jeonju routine

Things that are certain here at Jeonju: Hallways are not heated, so stepping out of my room is just as cold as stepping outside. Toilet paper is on a roll outside the stalls. Kimchi and rice are a given with every meal. Coffee is instant. There is no cheese. Snacks are odd, but handed out by instructors at least twice a day. Bottled water for drinking. The lines for the elevators are ridiculous--so I stairs it 8 flights 8-10 times a day. My gluts are lookin good.

"korea is dynamic"

We've been at Jeonju almost 5 days now. What have I learned more than anything? The same lesson I realize I was being taught from the beginning of applying for this position: Korea is Dynamic. They love saying it. Also, Every situation is different(ESID for short). Hear, hear. It's all about going with the flow. We're never exactly sure what's going to happen, or even, if we're doing things right. Easiest thing to do? Follow. Enjoy.

Not knowing where or who we're going to be teaching means no point wasting time thinking past this week--except that all of us teachers-to-be have a week of not knowing and getting to know each other. Maybe just a moment. Ice broken. We (most of us, at least) have no phone, no way of knowing who will be in your group, how they will divide you and it changes so frequently that the only thing really sure is that you can talk to the person right next to you. Instant potential travel buddies down the line. Remember the face, look at the name tag if you can, otherwise, just talk. Connect. Go with it.

Classes everyday (even saturday) are hit or miss, but I'm finally getting excited about teaching. Finally getting an idea about what that means, even. They're all about their lesson plans, and even more about being able to adapt when something throws your plans out the window for you. It's not that they're trying to make it hard for you, we're told, just that the system isn't designed to be smooth. Just adaptable. And it all makes sense to everyone here, so if we get fussy about it we just look like idiots overreacting over nothing. So this is EPIK's role. Prepare us to understand Korean culture and how our job will work within it. We're being conditioned to not worry too much, be prepared for whatever, and go with the flow.

Understanding this helps me understand Confucianism so much better here. Submitting to strict roles and social hierarchies ensure that everyone is taking care of what they need to, so that in the end, everything runs smoothly (even though it doesn't seem to). Keep a steady balance, follow when you're supposed to, be proactive when you're supposed to. Most of all, be respectful and content in it. It's not my job to know where I'm going--it's the Provincial Office of Employment. It's my job to be learning and absorbing right now.

The idea of collectivism did not excite me; no sir, individuality the way to be. But really, the collective values of South Korean's Confucian structure resonate quite nicely with my notions of nonviolence and the importance of community. It's not about zapping away your personality or your sense of self--it's about putting that sense of self into a selfless spot (or my way of rationalizing). I know my role enough to know how I can affect others--not just immediately, but in all their connections as well. And because I am aware of that power within myself, it is my responsibility to make sure I don't spread anything negative. It's conflating the individual and the community; recognizing that they can never be separate in cause or effects. At least, this is what I've been chewing on.
Respecting these roles of authority--age, or my employer, etc, will make it run smoother for everyone involved. And if I allow myself to be a part of it, I know the chain of respect goes both ways. I will be looked out for. Selfishly Selfless. right?

More philosophical ranting than I intended. But on the flip side of the world, it's bound to happen. All this idea and experience and story and moment sharing is overloading me. So on to the soju, where we can loosen up and really get deep! It's where I see it the most, actually, even though it's mostly a bunch of us foreigners taking over a place the way we do best. But it's about the communal enjoyment--we've already adapted. They don't split the tab here. And they want everyone involved. Whether it's just us westerners or with help from Koreans who join in our fun, we're figuring it out. We watch, we follow, we do what makes us all feel good. together.

kimchi and macaroni salad: first tastes of south korea

So after too many hours of moving standing sitting waiting, here I am in South Korea.  Jeonju University, which is not in Seoul, as I thought, but in Jeonju.  Of course.  I seem to forget that the obvious could be true here, since so much is uncertain.  I am not the only EPIK teacher who doesn’t know my destination.  Turns out, of the 340 of us in this intake, a good chunk of us only know our province.  The big metropolitan cities are their own province, and everyone destined for Busan and Daegu are stoked.  I call Gyeongbuk our mystery province.  We have no clue—that’s one big blob on the map we could be scattered through.  Keepin my fingers crossed for the coast.  It’s funny how much of our interactions—we English speaking strangers—keep coming back to the anticipation of where we’re going.  Who cares about where we’ve been?  Even stranger is where we are now—this odd cultural limbo.  Unmistakably in Korea, but not completely out of the West.   

Processing all of this comes most obviously through food these first days.  At the airport I was overwhelmed at mini marts where plastic wrapped sushi and mystery sandwiches were right next to the obvious hard-boiled eggs and bananas.  Then there’s freeze-dried squid and sardines with little cartoons of the live versions glaring at you a bit.  I wouldn’t be happy to be sliced up and laid flat in plastic with all my innards showing for the perusing snacker either, I guess.  But also are completely unrecognizable items likes these little squishy pink or white balls (I later find out are rice filled with a bean curd paste, dessert).  And yet, even in a slightly altered form, there they are: starbucks, pepsi, kellogg.  Keeping to my principles, I avoid them, opting for a coffee from a small café and a small Korean version of Crustables with strawberry jelly and cream? in the middle.  Alright snack.  And at the truck stop I learn everything here is sweetened, even the garlic chips I bought—and later even the spaghetti we are served.  And definitely the coffee.

Coffee here is the worst adjustment all of us are complaining about—presweetened powder or cold in a can.  Instant.  No black gold here.

We get three buffets a day.  Guaranteed rice and kimchi (LOVE the tang of it), watery soups—broccoli, soy, etc.  Haven’t figured all the options yet.  Then some sort of curry style mix of veggies, and one with meat.  And, assuming to accommodate us and ease our stomachs into this mix, are macaroni salad (can’t lie was my fav), corn flakes, spaghetti.  Lots of fish, lots of ham, some green veggies, very little dairy. 

Last night we feasted.  It was AWESOME.  EPIK even made a cake and we sang for all the birthdays this week.  The spread was tables and tables long, and luckily they still gave us forks.  Rice, kimchi, stir-fry, gobs of things in so many colors (I hope to figure out), and tons and tons of seafood.  Beautiful.  And the most colorful dessert table ever: tiramisu meets cream puff tacos and cakes and spikey little lychee fruit.   And then in the middle chefs were fresh-frying crab, squid, veggies, soups.  It didn’t seem to end.  And it hasn’t really, because I am still full this morning, getting ready to begin our training.   

 

 

 Perhaps that meal was our first real step onto Korea, Korea’s first real step into us.  I’m looking forward to being more adventurous and trading in my fork for chopsticks (not as scary since they still use a spoon).