Koreans surround me by day, westerners by night. And weekends. Such is the double life I am leading, where outside of school and the daily purchases I discard charades and broken konglish for English of many colors. This is the comfort zone that buffers us away from a fully korean life.
During the weeks, our English teacher community in Gumi usually meet up several times, for dinner, drinks, movies, ice cream. Regular haunts like Corona and Waegook Cook that foreigners past have already established. New trials, such as New York, New York, the Japanese fish fry, the movie theater. And now, my most recent fav, In Elf, an edgy little SK hof where we have Epik bombs (soju, coke and beer) and a decent array of food; I do believe we may be the first regulars of this bar--Korean or otherwise.
Last weekend visitors from farther East came to Gumi that I hadn't seen since our first reunion in Daegu. We met before lunch at Gumi Yuk. Hugs. Dropped off their bags at Jack's, with no Blake in sight (he missed the train). We stop at a corner shop for water and rice bars, chips, etc. Then we walk our 12+ westerners down the saturday streets in the sun, past my school, and up to Geumo San mountain. We make a collective goal to reach the waterfall and the temple--we don't really know what we're getting into, but after some snows earlier in the week, my coteachers warned of danger. But the day is beautiful, sunny, warm, and there are tons of Koreans taking advantage of a Saturday hike.
Past the sawn boats on the lake, past the village where we had our last EPIK meal, past the hotel, walking through skinny pines and broken sunlight, we find the "entrance" to the mountain. There are air guns where Koreans are cleaning dirt off their shoes, maps, a cable car, and many Koreans dressed to peak everest. We laugh at them in our sneakers and sweatshirts. Later they will laugh at us.
Beyond this point, the steady road ends. Even where paths have been made, the steps are uneven, sometimes rocky, and as we get higher, the path itself becomes a mix of dirt, boulders and higher up--mud. We are panting when we get to the first position at an old fortress entrance, bright turquoise rainbowed roof, red wood, brightly painted dragon looms above us as we pass through to continue our way into the mountain. Higher and higher, more and more uneven, and our lack of ability slaps us in the face when we see a woman in heels, old ladies, or the many korean children passing us up, darting around like agile little mountain goats.
Farther up is a buddhist temple. An old monk was shoveling snow. Gi and Laurie and I were a bit ahead, and after looking into one of the buildings, Laurie proves his energy with a Rocky recreation, running up the steps in his sweatshirt, my hoarse voice giving theme music, Gi acting as cameraman. The rest of the group joins us, and we have a random man take our pictures--a whole montage we find out later--on the steps of the temple. Rows of tiny Buddhas (including one on a cell phone) and a lit up shrine to Confucious give us some good will to continue upwards.
We continue to a cave, where the lack of sure footing and a very risky railing let my fears win out. Lindsay and I hand out for about 10 minutes while the rest go up. We see fathers with children on their shoulders, well above the guardrails making their way behind our crew--none of the natives seem to notice the uneven ground or the sheer drops next to them.
After a bit, we make our way over to the waterfall, and tiptoe our way under it to the other side. Here is the snow and slush my coteachers had warned me of. And it only gets worse going up.
Luckily, there are some stairs next. We huff and puff our way up, always questioning whether we are really going to continue. Lindsay stops at one landing, where she ends up having a wonderful conversation with a small Korean girl and her family, and is rewarded with oranges and a tomato. Libby, Sean, and I continue up behind the rest of them. Feel the burn.
It isn't until we reach a summit (not the very top, but still way way up) where we believe that Koreans actually do sweat some. The stairs end here. We all rest and have a look on the large rock.
There it is, Gumi. My lovely city, sprawled out across the valley past the lake, nestled between low mountains. Unreal. Here we are, on top of the otherside of the world, and looking out over what we now call home.
Well the stairs and clear path stopped there. The next 1 km to the peak looked like a mush of snow, ice and treacherous falls. That was no day to conquer fears, so I parted with the group (who surprising to us all, decided to continue). Still having only 2 phones total, Gi gave me her phone for the later meetup.
I went down with Lindsay, having a nice chat all the way down to the trainstation, where, as luck would have it, we were just in time to meet Blake from the later train. More hugs! We went back to mine, enjoying a Cass in a can while we waited for news from the mountain. Eventually Libby, Kevin, and Sean joined us with beer and snacks, and we made my small room a hangout while trying to figure out what to do. The others had gone to the top, and we later hear that they lost a waterbottle over the ledge, were pitied and given a walking stick/pick by some Koreans, and had a very scary time of it.
We went to dinner. Pizza Hut--my second time that week. Funny how when all of us westerners get together at these moments, we tend to go with the familiar. Really, I think we all are just missing cheese way too much.
Either way, after pizza, we are still waiting so we go back to Jack's, where a Korean queen-size-more-like-a-double bed (lucky man) is all there is. Beyond the point of exhaustion, the 6 of us pile on like puppies, and doze and giggle and wait. The lack of hugs, of touch, of human contact we get as outsiders here starts to wear on you. These few moments of mammal warmth are so restorative. By the time Jack, Tom, Sarah, Lois and Laurie come find us, we are a mass of giggles trying to pretend to be asleep, having had little more than a brief nap, but nonetheless feeling well and hole and energized again.
We all sit around drinking poor-man's Gin and Tonics and discussing our night. Then we head to Waegook Cook with the sole purpose of getting jolly and watching a few Rugby Matches. It is a classic night of pitchers, burgers, hammer game, cheers, and good conversations. At this point I know enough other foreigners in this city to mingle and mix with many, but the best find is Laurie's childhood friend, Portia. She's been here 6months, knows all the inside tips, and in general, one cool lady down to be buds. YES! Facebook connects are made.
By the end of the last match and the last pitcher, it's about 4am. We all plan to take taxis (we need 3) to Gumi Yuk. Well, Lindsay, Blake and I are the odd ones left, and end up dancing our way back where we reunite. They all get street food from the favorite vendor outside the station--meat on sticks, bulgogi, rice cakes, etc. I pass. We all head across the train station and those going the few block's to Jack's part ways with vague plans for meetups the next morning.
Blake and I head back to mine. Two Americans speaking in an amalgamated mix of drunken accents we've picked up over the night. Thanks to my previous resident, we have plenty of blankets to give him a semi-soft surface on the heated floor. We have hoarse and colorful conversations of tragedies and romances we left behind--typical late night chats. Shared experiences, insights; moments where we transcend being new friend and become two people tapping into the depth that is the human experience. We estranged people, connecting in all the moments we find it possible.
The next morning, after a brief night's sleep, we feel fantastic. Hydrate in a hurry. Hoarse and hopeful, we made our way to Jack's. No answer. No phones. Two payphones across the trainstation later we looked at overstocked fish tanks and colorful parakeets in the window of a pet store and find a meetup point. We're a bedraggled bunch of foreigners in Da Vinci Coffee, enjoying lattes and waffles (finally!). But we needed real food at this point.
We walk through downtown Gumi, desparately looking for a place for some kind of dining we could all agree on. Didn't find it. Instead, found a chicken joint upstairs. Many Korean restaurants only serve one thing, really. This one was chicken. But they gave us all a watery soup (quite good, actually) and I after struggling to order, a few people had chicken dishes and I had the best french fries I've every eaten--ever! Then we were off to find a place for some Sunday drinks and not one bar was open. None. In our quest for Max, we walked all over downtown Gumi, through the open-air markets and shop-lined streets. We finally settled on gas station bottle of Max, our best beer friend, and sat on the floor at Jack's, watching various You Tube videos and enjoying some relaxed and worn-out convos.
Then, sadly, it was time for the weekend to end. We all parted ways at the train station. Hugs, some last touches of energy to tide us over until next time. Annyong, annyong.
These friendships here are so momentous--both in import and in the sense of the moment. We can waste no time. We can't carry any baggage. It is, instead, a collection of warm, open, honestconnections. Communities being built around the world. Without EPIK, we may never have met. Without facebook, we couldn't reconnect. This modern world helps us make it last.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Staff Meetings
In Korea, staff meetings are not announced through an office memo in advance. They are day-of telephone game pass alongs. Last Monday, my first Monday teaching, Kim Dong Il, Nicholas Cage in English (and my favorite of the English staff) told me to pass the news on to Woody that we'd be meeting that evening after school. Where? Don't know. Ok. By the end of the day we'd gleaned enough info to meet June in her mini car at the green-awninged convenience store on the corner of our street. She proceeded to drive Woody and I over Geumo San mountain, past hiking trails and campgrounds (note made) to a traditional-style duck restaurant. I figured this out by the banner displaying a row of easter-white ducks (live for once, not happy cartoons).
Inside, shoes off (yay for normal socks that day), red slipper sandals on. Into a large, extended room with three long rows of tables and--oh yes!--chairs! Each table had its own burner, several dishes of garlic, greens, kimchi of many colors, a sweet potato salad I personally destroyed, bottles of beer (Hite, not Max), Soju, and cider. The English teachers already posted up at the end of the far table. Sit. Drink. NO water for you, Alissa. No, you are new. Beer it is. No problem.
I wiped my hands with the wet towel. Waited around for the cue. Oh, I guess I missed it. Eat Eat! Ok ok!
We all stab and grab at the salads. Soon enough the host brings strips of duck to lay on the burner in front of me. Looks good. Still not interested. Then #1 (Principal big boss man) comes to say hello, welcome me and encourage me to eat eat eat that duck. Nos be damned, I still agreed. Waited for him to leave, then continued to eat everything meatless on the table. Rice came. Soup. And refill upon refill.
Introduction time. At a mic and platform at the front of the room, each new teacher (7 in all, me of course, saved for last) was called up to make a speech. Mine, with the interpretation aid of MaryAnne (Korean English coteacher) went a bit like this: Thanks so much! I'm so excited to be here. I'll do my best. I really look forward to eating with all of you in the cafeteria.
Good speech I'm told.
Eating continued. Then Soju time. Shots at the table. Shots traveling around. #1 and #2 come to each of us to be sure we toast. #1, never tiring of "bottoms up" and "cheers" spends a good minute with me. We mingle as much as we can mingle, but I stick mostly to the english teachers. But most of them clear out to take care of kids since they didn't have notice to arrange for childcare. This leaves Woody and I with several of our male coworkers, #1 and #2, and the wildest bunch of partying karaokeing lunch ladies I've ever seen.
Oh yea, #1 would not let me by without a song. So, after much soju and scanning the book, I convince him to come up with us. "8 Days A Week" a la Me, My Boss, and Woody with a bottle of Soju in Hand. We quite easily beat the Beatles in our version. A little time after, sitting at the table with wobbley versions of Kpop chart toppers as our soundtrack, the principal turns to me to and says, "Alissa. You are very good at drinking." Laughs laughs laughs. I'm pretty sure this man thinks I'm the coolest, craziest, strangest thing EPIK could have delivered. If not for my English degree and good grades, he might have turned me away on the spot--I'm glad I keep impressing him.
After a bit, apologies are continually given that this is not the best kind of party because it is too late notice and we have to quit early. A small group of male teachers and Woody and I vanned it down to the nicest norae bang I've been in. Blue lights and fruit plates and more soju.
I tambourined it up. Those teachers got perfect points on their karaoke too.
A call from Boram gave Woody and I a ticket to leave. She picked us up, dropped me off. I'm feeling fantastic and it's not even 10:30. What a night.
Next morning, bright and early, I meet the other teachers. A week of work--if you can call it that-- and we have coffee breaks and share sarcasms around the office. June constantly tells me I eat like a little kid (mostly because I like chocolate and ice cream so much) and I constantly complain about the crappy coffee. We eat fantastic korean lunches together in the cafeteria, sharing small bits of conversation with the non-english teachers, learning bits of the language and mastering the chopsticks, while June constantly says, "Alissa use your spoon." No one gets up until everyone at their table is finished--but if you're over the line on the next table, they leave you. If it's warm and nice we stroll by the mountain. It's a good dynamic.
Last Thursday they announced we would be having our English meeting after school. Again, by meeting, they meant dinner. Much milder this time, though. We crossed the street to some giant mushrooms that were really buildings. Shoes off. Crap. Neon-skull-halloween-socks day. No slippers. Those got me some laughs, thank you mom.
The four of us who were early sipped jasmine tea and pronged at the salads and kimchis while we wait for the rest. My favorite: pickeled lotus root. Sweet and tangy and delicious. They brought a huge bowl of fishy korean spaghetti (I can't even try to remember these names) and rice.
When everyone else made it, we hurriedly stood up for #1 and #2. Pops of the knees and back and then we're sitting right back down again.
This one was much more low-key. Of course I was already full but, eat eat. Korea's hospitality is making me fat for sure. Then followed the Hite and toasts. I'm a heroine, I was told. Awesome. I'll take it. I gave a little speech, promising to do my best (no lie!) and we make small talk about the school, and everyone acted quite comfortable.
I was in the middle of failing at picking up a piece of lotus when someone finally got my attention--I'd found that the principal and everyone else was standing up. Dinner is over. That's it. Done.
What about all that food? But no, when he's done, we leave. Protocol.
We trickled out. Many many thanks. I'm stuffed.
Woody and I walk home. The other teachers have to go back to school! they are there so much it must make them crazy. But they smile, laugh, joke and seem to really love the students. And every morning they are there before Woody and I. Always working hard, just punctuating it all with jokes and smiles.
Yesterday, shortly after I had helped MaryAnne with some editing (it's wonderful being the expert at something!), the computer speakers are turned up and an impromptu 5minute dance party is announced. Woody sits and laughs as June, MaryAnne, Lilly, Sarah (all various middle-ages of Korean women) and I dance and kick and jazzercize it out right in the middle of the English office. Guemo san mountain smiled at us through the window. That was my favorite 5 minutes of school so far. Awesome.
I'm bringing in an exercise ball to sit on at my desk. They all love it, think it's a ridiculous idea, and already have plans of kicking and throwing it all over the room.
Welcome to the English Office at Gyeongsanbuk-do Foreign Language High School.
Inside, shoes off (yay for normal socks that day), red slipper sandals on. Into a large, extended room with three long rows of tables and--oh yes!--chairs! Each table had its own burner, several dishes of garlic, greens, kimchi of many colors, a sweet potato salad I personally destroyed, bottles of beer (Hite, not Max), Soju, and cider. The English teachers already posted up at the end of the far table. Sit. Drink. NO water for you, Alissa. No, you are new. Beer it is. No problem.
I wiped my hands with the wet towel. Waited around for the cue. Oh, I guess I missed it. Eat Eat! Ok ok!
We all stab and grab at the salads. Soon enough the host brings strips of duck to lay on the burner in front of me. Looks good. Still not interested. Then #1 (Principal big boss man) comes to say hello, welcome me and encourage me to eat eat eat that duck. Nos be damned, I still agreed. Waited for him to leave, then continued to eat everything meatless on the table. Rice came. Soup. And refill upon refill.
Introduction time. At a mic and platform at the front of the room, each new teacher (7 in all, me of course, saved for last) was called up to make a speech. Mine, with the interpretation aid of MaryAnne (Korean English coteacher) went a bit like this: Thanks so much! I'm so excited to be here. I'll do my best. I really look forward to eating with all of you in the cafeteria.
Good speech I'm told.
Eating continued. Then Soju time. Shots at the table. Shots traveling around. #1 and #2 come to each of us to be sure we toast. #1, never tiring of "bottoms up" and "cheers" spends a good minute with me. We mingle as much as we can mingle, but I stick mostly to the english teachers. But most of them clear out to take care of kids since they didn't have notice to arrange for childcare. This leaves Woody and I with several of our male coworkers, #1 and #2, and the wildest bunch of partying karaokeing lunch ladies I've ever seen.
Oh yea, #1 would not let me by without a song. So, after much soju and scanning the book, I convince him to come up with us. "8 Days A Week" a la Me, My Boss, and Woody with a bottle of Soju in Hand. We quite easily beat the Beatles in our version. A little time after, sitting at the table with wobbley versions of Kpop chart toppers as our soundtrack, the principal turns to me to and says, "Alissa. You are very good at drinking." Laughs laughs laughs. I'm pretty sure this man thinks I'm the coolest, craziest, strangest thing EPIK could have delivered. If not for my English degree and good grades, he might have turned me away on the spot--I'm glad I keep impressing him.
After a bit, apologies are continually given that this is not the best kind of party because it is too late notice and we have to quit early. A small group of male teachers and Woody and I vanned it down to the nicest norae bang I've been in. Blue lights and fruit plates and more soju.
I tambourined it up. Those teachers got perfect points on their karaoke too.
A call from Boram gave Woody and I a ticket to leave. She picked us up, dropped me off. I'm feeling fantastic and it's not even 10:30. What a night.
Next morning, bright and early, I meet the other teachers. A week of work--if you can call it that-- and we have coffee breaks and share sarcasms around the office. June constantly tells me I eat like a little kid (mostly because I like chocolate and ice cream so much) and I constantly complain about the crappy coffee. We eat fantastic korean lunches together in the cafeteria, sharing small bits of conversation with the non-english teachers, learning bits of the language and mastering the chopsticks, while June constantly says, "Alissa use your spoon." No one gets up until everyone at their table is finished--but if you're over the line on the next table, they leave you. If it's warm and nice we stroll by the mountain. It's a good dynamic.
Last Thursday they announced we would be having our English meeting after school. Again, by meeting, they meant dinner. Much milder this time, though. We crossed the street to some giant mushrooms that were really buildings. Shoes off. Crap. Neon-skull-halloween-socks day. No slippers. Those got me some laughs, thank you mom.
The four of us who were early sipped jasmine tea and pronged at the salads and kimchis while we wait for the rest. My favorite: pickeled lotus root. Sweet and tangy and delicious. They brought a huge bowl of fishy korean spaghetti (I can't even try to remember these names) and rice.
When everyone else made it, we hurriedly stood up for #1 and #2. Pops of the knees and back and then we're sitting right back down again.
This one was much more low-key. Of course I was already full but, eat eat. Korea's hospitality is making me fat for sure. Then followed the Hite and toasts. I'm a heroine, I was told. Awesome. I'll take it. I gave a little speech, promising to do my best (no lie!) and we make small talk about the school, and everyone acted quite comfortable.
I was in the middle of failing at picking up a piece of lotus when someone finally got my attention--I'd found that the principal and everyone else was standing up. Dinner is over. That's it. Done.
What about all that food? But no, when he's done, we leave. Protocol.
We trickled out. Many many thanks. I'm stuffed.
Woody and I walk home. The other teachers have to go back to school! they are there so much it must make them crazy. But they smile, laugh, joke and seem to really love the students. And every morning they are there before Woody and I. Always working hard, just punctuating it all with jokes and smiles.
Yesterday, shortly after I had helped MaryAnne with some editing (it's wonderful being the expert at something!), the computer speakers are turned up and an impromptu 5minute dance party is announced. Woody sits and laughs as June, MaryAnne, Lilly, Sarah (all various middle-ages of Korean women) and I dance and kick and jazzercize it out right in the middle of the English office. Guemo san mountain smiled at us through the window. That was my favorite 5 minutes of school so far. Awesome.
I'm bringing in an exercise ball to sit on at my desk. They all love it, think it's a ridiculous idea, and already have plans of kicking and throwing it all over the room.
Welcome to the English Office at Gyeongsanbuk-do Foreign Language High School.
Monday, March 8, 2010
an epic dance through daegu
Saturday was my first trip outside of Gumi since getting here. Woke up early to throw in a load of laundry, run to the PCbang for wild graspings at plans and communication. Woot for facebook chat. After some scramblings, we had plans to meet at dongdaegu station at 4pm. Never having been there before, I went to the station a bit early to try it out. Made the 2:15 train. 30min ride, only 2,500won--cheaper than a taxi to homeplus. Sit next to a Korean woman, not much talking, watch the mountains roll by. Mist mist mist. Then Jack and Gi come up and surprise me. We make our way to the cafe car, find Tom on the way. Try our best to shrug off the biggest know-it-all thinks-he's-hot-shit American who wants to tell us everywhere we should go, hang out with us in our free hour, follow us to a rave that night--and lucky for us, no cell phones, so, "bummer dude, guess we'll have to split ways." Good day sir.
When we get to the station, we walk a bit into the drizzling neon that is the town, grab the usually sorry excuse for coffee in a colorful little second-story shop. Relax. Feet dry. Then back to the station for the 4pm-not-so-sharp rendezvous. After about 30min, a chat with a very strange Korean rando, and a guilt-buy gum purchase from a man in a wheelchair, we have a solid group of epik reunitees.
Oddly enough, a little over a week away has made their faces feel like home. Exciting rush of joy. HUGS. We hit the subway, then we hit the city; scattered sort of buddy system keeping us together. And here is our Korea: flashing lights, narrow streets, west-meets-east in Gumi on steroids. Here is where I'll come to buy my boots. Fo sho. We're all cravin a bit of warmth, a bite of food, and where are Blake, Sean, and Lindsay most excited about: Burger King. almighty! the last thing that I could possibly missing. But we stand outside, and I do, yes, have a salty warm fry. Watch some free huggers, reunite with more Epiks in passing. And then move on.
Downstairs Beer Bar--all the foreign bottles you want. Not for 6,000won a bottle, so Korean Max all around, Kamsamida. We're the only ones anywhere we go in this early light. They bring us first cheerio-like snacks. then it's nachos. then it's strawberry and apples. O'malley's popcorn and peanuts has nothing on the bar snacks here. Few bottles down, tally it up, move on out.
Down a few more streets, can't decide where to go. Libby and I run upstairs to check a swanky spot out. First bit of Korean snobbery: completely empty bar, and we are told "No. Koreans only." What the wha?!? Well, alright, we'll take our big ol' group of spenders to a more welcoming place covered in post-it notes next door. Another bottle, more snacks, until--finally--we find a spot for food.
Out of the rain and into a posh industrial set up, Swankified second floor. Pasta plates made for the sharing, all the salad you want. And, no joke, a bathroom with two toilets set up to stair each other in the face. You can talk about how great the food is while you're both grunting it out of you. Ha. Roly poly stuffed and warm, split up the bill--only 7.50 per person. How bout that for cheap. Then it's out into the rain, into the new night that's not-so-dark, and look for a new place to drink.
Found some ex-pats with word of a Happy Hour. They lead us through the streets, dancing and dodging Koreans the whole way there, a new track for the soundtrack in front of every store. Holy Grill. Canadian ex-pat setup. Good music. Endless drink happy hour. Jarrod, Virginia, Lindsay and I have a go at some foozball. Phoenix is playing and it feels like partying back in the states. And, who's there but that big ol guy from the train (who, with the help of Blake, we are able to avoid). Darts, dance, drinks. And then, Lindsay puts in a whisper and the lights come on and we treat Jarrod to a "Happy Birthday" from everyone in the bar. The bartenders treat our crew to free shots. Nice.
Then, Happy Hour ends. A hug bell is rung, and it's free shots for everyone still in the bar. Pass 'em on back. Nicer.
Back to the rain. Work our way past all the shops with winking models and oh man will I be returning soon to do some shopping. We end up at the Monkey Bar (I think) Pay a cover, get a locker, and make our way in. Now we dance. Dark and smokey with no waegooks in sight, we create a circle of foreign dancers right by the bar. Shake our hair, beat it on down, and show this country how we do it back home. oddly enough, all the music we hear are the familiar American remixes with a dj singing along with his favorite lines. Ha. But it was great. Sweating through neon lazers, we danced off that dinner and then some.
After they (not me, no sir) had enough dancing, we make our way out to a place for billy bowling (pool-billiards combo). Sip on a few more drinks, and let the last vestiges of the night trickle by us until it's 4 or so and we make our way back to find a way home. We say goodbye to most everyone at the trainstation. Hug hug hug.
Jack, Gi, Tom and I get ourselves a ticket on the next train to Gumi. We have an hour at least to wait. So we look for food. Of course, everywhere by the station is closed. Walk towards some lights under the bridge, and we find a little korean dive. Soju. Rice. meat (not for me). kimchi. radish. garlic. Yummmm... Surprisingly my chopstick-fingers were highly adept even in these fuzzy morning hours. We thank her, pay, and make our way back to the train station, waving goodbye to the last few lights of Daegu, and up the stairs to the platform. There is a small group of Koreans--ending their night I presume. Strangely we all look very alive. On fire with it, I guess.
On the train there is Tekken and internet and two other westerners we share the car with. Our spirits are high--in many many ways. It was an epic night, well worth it all. As we roll into Gumi, we wish Tom well until the next stop, and Jack, Gi, and I make our way (luckily) down the same street, branching off at our respective alleys.
It's a little after 6:30 by the time the benadryl hits in. I sleep for the whole day. And come Sunday night, I am rejuvinated in so many ways. Daegu was excellent.
When we get to the station, we walk a bit into the drizzling neon that is the town, grab the usually sorry excuse for coffee in a colorful little second-story shop. Relax. Feet dry. Then back to the station for the 4pm-not-so-sharp rendezvous. After about 30min, a chat with a very strange Korean rando, and a guilt-buy gum purchase from a man in a wheelchair, we have a solid group of epik reunitees.
Oddly enough, a little over a week away has made their faces feel like home. Exciting rush of joy. HUGS. We hit the subway, then we hit the city; scattered sort of buddy system keeping us together. And here is our Korea: flashing lights, narrow streets, west-meets-east in Gumi on steroids. Here is where I'll come to buy my boots. Fo sho. We're all cravin a bit of warmth, a bite of food, and where are Blake, Sean, and Lindsay most excited about: Burger King. almighty! the last thing that I could possibly missing. But we stand outside, and I do, yes, have a salty warm fry. Watch some free huggers, reunite with more Epiks in passing. And then move on.
Downstairs Beer Bar--all the foreign bottles you want. Not for 6,000won a bottle, so Korean Max all around, Kamsamida. We're the only ones anywhere we go in this early light. They bring us first cheerio-like snacks. then it's nachos. then it's strawberry and apples. O'malley's popcorn and peanuts has nothing on the bar snacks here. Few bottles down, tally it up, move on out.
Down a few more streets, can't decide where to go. Libby and I run upstairs to check a swanky spot out. First bit of Korean snobbery: completely empty bar, and we are told "No. Koreans only." What the wha?!? Well, alright, we'll take our big ol' group of spenders to a more welcoming place covered in post-it notes next door. Another bottle, more snacks, until--finally--we find a spot for food.
Out of the rain and into a posh industrial set up, Swankified second floor. Pasta plates made for the sharing, all the salad you want. And, no joke, a bathroom with two toilets set up to stair each other in the face. You can talk about how great the food is while you're both grunting it out of you. Ha. Roly poly stuffed and warm, split up the bill--only 7.50 per person. How bout that for cheap. Then it's out into the rain, into the new night that's not-so-dark, and look for a new place to drink.
Found some ex-pats with word of a Happy Hour. They lead us through the streets, dancing and dodging Koreans the whole way there, a new track for the soundtrack in front of every store. Holy Grill. Canadian ex-pat setup. Good music. Endless drink happy hour. Jarrod, Virginia, Lindsay and I have a go at some foozball. Phoenix is playing and it feels like partying back in the states. And, who's there but that big ol guy from the train (who, with the help of Blake, we are able to avoid). Darts, dance, drinks. And then, Lindsay puts in a whisper and the lights come on and we treat Jarrod to a "Happy Birthday" from everyone in the bar. The bartenders treat our crew to free shots. Nice.
Then, Happy Hour ends. A hug bell is rung, and it's free shots for everyone still in the bar. Pass 'em on back. Nicer.
Back to the rain. Work our way past all the shops with winking models and oh man will I be returning soon to do some shopping. We end up at the Monkey Bar (I think) Pay a cover, get a locker, and make our way in. Now we dance. Dark and smokey with no waegooks in sight, we create a circle of foreign dancers right by the bar. Shake our hair, beat it on down, and show this country how we do it back home. oddly enough, all the music we hear are the familiar American remixes with a dj singing along with his favorite lines. Ha. But it was great. Sweating through neon lazers, we danced off that dinner and then some.
After they (not me, no sir) had enough dancing, we make our way out to a place for billy bowling (pool-billiards combo). Sip on a few more drinks, and let the last vestiges of the night trickle by us until it's 4 or so and we make our way back to find a way home. We say goodbye to most everyone at the trainstation. Hug hug hug.
Jack, Gi, Tom and I get ourselves a ticket on the next train to Gumi. We have an hour at least to wait. So we look for food. Of course, everywhere by the station is closed. Walk towards some lights under the bridge, and we find a little korean dive. Soju. Rice. meat (not for me). kimchi. radish. garlic. Yummmm... Surprisingly my chopstick-fingers were highly adept even in these fuzzy morning hours. We thank her, pay, and make our way back to the train station, waving goodbye to the last few lights of Daegu, and up the stairs to the platform. There is a small group of Koreans--ending their night I presume. Strangely we all look very alive. On fire with it, I guess.
On the train there is Tekken and internet and two other westerners we share the car with. Our spirits are high--in many many ways. It was an epic night, well worth it all. As we roll into Gumi, we wish Tom well until the next stop, and Jack, Gi, and I make our way (luckily) down the same street, branching off at our respective alleys.
It's a little after 6:30 by the time the benadryl hits in. I sleep for the whole day. And come Sunday night, I am rejuvinated in so many ways. Daegu was excellent.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Make me feel like more of a queen...
Well, sitting here facebooking (how productive right?) in the final hours of my friday when in walk 4 uniformed students with brooms, mops, opening the windows to air the place out, excusing themselves while they sweep and mop and empty our trash. And I'm saying "thank you thank you thankyouthankyou!" to which a polite 3rd grader replies with proper sounding british tones, "it's our duty."
Did I mention the bells that guide us to our destinations with happy little melodies? The snack and coffee table in the english room? The store downstairs where I make daily trips to get ice cream and chocolate at the recommendations of the other students?
Good good good first week.
Did I mention the bells that guide us to our destinations with happy little melodies? The snack and coffee table in the english room? The store downstairs where I make daily trips to get ice cream and chocolate at the recommendations of the other students?
Good good good first week.
dam near geniuses (haha, what a pun)
Alright, so my first week of teaching at Gyeongbuk Foreign Language High School is coming to a close. All of my classes are finished; Woody and I crossed the dam and took a hike around the lake after lunch, and all this misty mountainside is finally giving me the chance to be a bit reflective.
Back to day one: Tuesday, 8:20am I met Woody at the trash pile (no joke) between our apartments--best landmark we could think of. We walk farther away from downtown, to the edge of Gumi. Geumo-san looms tall over the dam, softer, fuzzier mountains surround us, and the school is there at the end of the street. Four-stories of red-brick and windows, little origami hedges everywhere. Walkways running between the Training institute (where I'll also work) the student dorms, cafeteria, and main school. The English office is on the 3rd floor, where I have a wonderful staff ow witty little korean coworkers, Woody, and a family of strange plants accenting my lovely view of the mountain (currently hugged in an eerie, ethereal sort of mist). I have my own desk, own computer (great since my laptop is broken; the SHIFT button sticks but I can backspace my yells away). I have my own room, the English Oasis, with a computer lab, a giant touch screen tv and maps, tables, comfy chairs, etc. We are serious about our learning.
So, first day, meet the rest of the teachers, besides June, my short and spunky Korean co-teacher (godmother more like). Then it's off to the opening ceremony. I sit next to June and Woody in the rows of teachers on the edges of the auditorium; All the 450+ students (we have a small, elite school in the province) are standing in rows in the middle. They wear uniforms. Giggle. Bow. And, most strange in a school setting: they cheer.
Speech-after-lulling-speech goes by (and I actually keep my eyes open, despite not understanding a word of it all, unlike many of my neighboring co-workers). Then, after all the big-boss men have had their say, after the Korean and school songs have been sung and a small student band performed, it is time to introduce the teachers.
New teachers first: We line up in a row on the stage, and one-by-one they call our name and we are to step forward. All the new Korean teachers step forward, do a quick bow while they are cheered, then step back. My name is called, I step up, give a sheepish wave, big ol' grin, then have my go at a bow. The kids go WILD. They scream for me like a rockstar. NEVER have I had so many little faces make me feel like MJ himself. Here I am, ready to teach. And there they are, little geniuses, so excited to learn.
After the assembly I had only one class for the day. All of my teaching for these two weeks at least will be shared with Woody. Then, we'll split each class and each of us will take 15, then swap half way through the semester. As a foreign language high school, the kids worked incredibly hard to get here (and thousands apply) and their english is damn near impeccable compared to highschools my peers will be working in. And, most exciting, is the fact that it is fairly laid back. No typed up lesson plans to turn in, no stuffy attire, no strict book or syllabus to follow. Our job, get the kids talking. After one week, it's been incredibly easy.
The high school is divided into grades 1,2 and 3 (sophomores to seniors). Each grade has 5 sections of 30 students, and depending on their focus--English, Japanese, or Chinese--we will see them either 1 or 2 times in a week. Grade 3, intensely studying for KSAT, only has English Conversation once/week.
So, this first week was all about introductions. Grade 1, new to Woody as well, we did a guessing game for them to find out valuable information about us (like blood type and our favorite Korean food) and in grades 2 and 3, since they already knew Woody, we let them play a question game where they got to drill me on basically anything they wanted. They talk, they listen, and aside from some seniors so exhausted from studying they're about to fall asleep, they genuinely seem engaged in the activity.
So far, they have cheered for us everytime we come to a class. They laugh at almost any witty bit of sarcasm or even the most simple jokes I throw their way. Things they all want to know about me: where did I get my hair done? Do I have a boyfriend? Do I have a brother? What do I think of Woody? What do I think of my Korean male teachers? What do I think of certain boys in the class? (the hormones really seem to be steering their mind in the direction of attraction here). But it's great. They are so easy to get along with, so easy to talk to--and understand.
And even outside of the class, the celebrity status continues. They all say hi, bow, and smile endlessly when I talk to them.
My coworkers are fantastic too. Super excited and impressed whenever I spout the two or three phrases of Korean I know. And I had a one-on-one with the princiPAL the other day. I'd dreaded walking in there after third period, but hopped on in. Sat in one of the huge cushy leather chairs across his table (super fancy) and chummed it up. We talked family, travels, studies. He gave me a red ginseng drink to make me strong and we practiced toasting and clanking our bottles. And all the while, he keeps stressing how excited he is to have me, how the school only gets the best, and how I need to be happy happy, no stress at all, make this my home for a year. And later, at lunch, he told all the other teachers how great and cheery I am. This place is feeling like one huge ego-trip. Welcome to Gumi.
We have fantastic authentic and fresh Korean food every day. We eat with the teachers. Take walks around the dam by the mountain after lunch. And Kim Dong Il (a coworker in the English dept) took me up to the roof yesterday where he escapes for his secret cigarette breaks (Woody didn't even get that treat). It's been easy to slip into feeling welcome here. And when I'm not teaching, I'm finally catching up on the internet I haven't got at home.
The banner over the entrance the first day read, "Congratulations! You are here all your dreams will come true." (Or something like that). Par for the course.
Back to day one: Tuesday, 8:20am I met Woody at the trash pile (no joke) between our apartments--best landmark we could think of. We walk farther away from downtown, to the edge of Gumi. Geumo-san looms tall over the dam, softer, fuzzier mountains surround us, and the school is there at the end of the street. Four-stories of red-brick and windows, little origami hedges everywhere. Walkways running between the Training institute (where I'll also work) the student dorms, cafeteria, and main school. The English office is on the 3rd floor, where I have a wonderful staff ow witty little korean coworkers, Woody, and a family of strange plants accenting my lovely view of the mountain (currently hugged in an eerie, ethereal sort of mist). I have my own desk, own computer (great since my laptop is broken; the SHIFT button sticks but I can backspace my yells away). I have my own room, the English Oasis, with a computer lab, a giant touch screen tv and maps, tables, comfy chairs, etc. We are serious about our learning.
So, first day, meet the rest of the teachers, besides June, my short and spunky Korean co-teacher (godmother more like). Then it's off to the opening ceremony. I sit next to June and Woody in the rows of teachers on the edges of the auditorium; All the 450+ students (we have a small, elite school in the province) are standing in rows in the middle. They wear uniforms. Giggle. Bow. And, most strange in a school setting: they cheer.
Speech-after-lulling-speech goes by (and I actually keep my eyes open, despite not understanding a word of it all, unlike many of my neighboring co-workers). Then, after all the big-boss men have had their say, after the Korean and school songs have been sung and a small student band performed, it is time to introduce the teachers.
New teachers first: We line up in a row on the stage, and one-by-one they call our name and we are to step forward. All the new Korean teachers step forward, do a quick bow while they are cheered, then step back. My name is called, I step up, give a sheepish wave, big ol' grin, then have my go at a bow. The kids go WILD. They scream for me like a rockstar. NEVER have I had so many little faces make me feel like MJ himself. Here I am, ready to teach. And there they are, little geniuses, so excited to learn.
After the assembly I had only one class for the day. All of my teaching for these two weeks at least will be shared with Woody. Then, we'll split each class and each of us will take 15, then swap half way through the semester. As a foreign language high school, the kids worked incredibly hard to get here (and thousands apply) and their english is damn near impeccable compared to highschools my peers will be working in. And, most exciting, is the fact that it is fairly laid back. No typed up lesson plans to turn in, no stuffy attire, no strict book or syllabus to follow. Our job, get the kids talking. After one week, it's been incredibly easy.
The high school is divided into grades 1,2 and 3 (sophomores to seniors). Each grade has 5 sections of 30 students, and depending on their focus--English, Japanese, or Chinese--we will see them either 1 or 2 times in a week. Grade 3, intensely studying for KSAT, only has English Conversation once/week.
So, this first week was all about introductions. Grade 1, new to Woody as well, we did a guessing game for them to find out valuable information about us (like blood type and our favorite Korean food) and in grades 2 and 3, since they already knew Woody, we let them play a question game where they got to drill me on basically anything they wanted. They talk, they listen, and aside from some seniors so exhausted from studying they're about to fall asleep, they genuinely seem engaged in the activity.
So far, they have cheered for us everytime we come to a class. They laugh at almost any witty bit of sarcasm or even the most simple jokes I throw their way. Things they all want to know about me: where did I get my hair done? Do I have a boyfriend? Do I have a brother? What do I think of Woody? What do I think of my Korean male teachers? What do I think of certain boys in the class? (the hormones really seem to be steering their mind in the direction of attraction here). But it's great. They are so easy to get along with, so easy to talk to--and understand.
And even outside of the class, the celebrity status continues. They all say hi, bow, and smile endlessly when I talk to them.
My coworkers are fantastic too. Super excited and impressed whenever I spout the two or three phrases of Korean I know. And I had a one-on-one with the princiPAL the other day. I'd dreaded walking in there after third period, but hopped on in. Sat in one of the huge cushy leather chairs across his table (super fancy) and chummed it up. We talked family, travels, studies. He gave me a red ginseng drink to make me strong and we practiced toasting and clanking our bottles. And all the while, he keeps stressing how excited he is to have me, how the school only gets the best, and how I need to be happy happy, no stress at all, make this my home for a year. And later, at lunch, he told all the other teachers how great and cheery I am. This place is feeling like one huge ego-trip. Welcome to Gumi.
We have fantastic authentic and fresh Korean food every day. We eat with the teachers. Take walks around the dam by the mountain after lunch. And Kim Dong Il (a coworker in the English dept) took me up to the roof yesterday where he escapes for his secret cigarette breaks (Woody didn't even get that treat). It's been easy to slip into feeling welcome here. And when I'm not teaching, I'm finally catching up on the internet I haven't got at home.
The banner over the entrance the first day read, "Congratulations! You are here all your dreams will come true." (Or something like that). Par for the course.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
communication break down
Well, this has been a lovely test of not having a cell phone or internet at home. WEll, I do, supposedly have internet at home, but my laptop doesn't want to respond to it. Found out there would be a tech coming this evening to have a go at it. Left school early to be there, waited until I thought he was a no-show then he finally did show. No English. None. Would've been fine if he was apple-literate, but no. And I am no PC. Communication failure #2 comes in hardware and software. After a bit of fumbling around, a knock comes and there at the door, another wonderful Korean repair man is there to fix my toilet seat (replacing it with some cushy floral version, which he was able to say the word "flowers" with a smile). Two Koreans, no English. One not-so-responsive computer.
After about an hour of fumbling around, talking to his daughter in broken English on the phone, and sitting and waiting in silence, I figure out how to switch the language on my laptop to Hangul (which I can no longer read to be any help with). The internet is finally working, he goes to reboot the thing and suddenly I have a computer that seems to have ODed on Korean Internet speed. Can't get past the bootup screen: gray-white panel with an icon flashing between an apple, a 'no' sign, and occasionally a folder with a ? in it pops in there. All the while, the whole machine seems to breathing quite hard and I'm sittin there wondering if I should be administering mechanical cpr and the man keeps trying to press ctrl+alt+del and f8 and esc. And god that is not helping.
Well, finally I have him use HIS cellphone to call my Korean co-teacher who tells me to send him home. I can't seem to pantomime this, so he has to call her again just to have her tell him to leave.
Poor guy, can't imagine how stressed he was, seeing how stressed I must've looked.
So here I am in a PC bang again. No phone. No net. Plenty of excitement.
Korea is dynamic. And not nearly as tech-savvy as I'd been told.
After about an hour of fumbling around, talking to his daughter in broken English on the phone, and sitting and waiting in silence, I figure out how to switch the language on my laptop to Hangul (which I can no longer read to be any help with). The internet is finally working, he goes to reboot the thing and suddenly I have a computer that seems to have ODed on Korean Internet speed. Can't get past the bootup screen: gray-white panel with an icon flashing between an apple, a 'no' sign, and occasionally a folder with a ? in it pops in there. All the while, the whole machine seems to breathing quite hard and I'm sittin there wondering if I should be administering mechanical cpr and the man keeps trying to press ctrl+alt+del and f8 and esc. And god that is not helping.
Well, finally I have him use HIS cellphone to call my Korean co-teacher who tells me to send him home. I can't seem to pantomime this, so he has to call her again just to have her tell him to leave.
Poor guy, can't imagine how stressed he was, seeing how stressed I must've looked.
So here I am in a PC bang again. No phone. No net. Plenty of excitement.
Korea is dynamic. And not nearly as tech-savvy as I'd been told.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Familiar like home, and yet...
Night three in Gumi as successful as the first two. It's quite easy to run into people at the bars here--just like back in Manhattan. The last few days have been comfortably fun shifts between chaos and nothing with enough walking around to give me shin splints and soggy shoes. Lovin it.
Woody, my American team-teacher and guide to the world that is Gumi--has been taking me around with his Korean fiance, Boram. English-meets-Korean, midwest-meet-far east. Best of both worlds there. I helped them move from across the hall of my apartment to a much swankier setup a half block away. They have a sweet pad and roof access where we take breaks and have a great view of the town and mountain. Fully excited for future BBQs and sunbathing. Plans for a kiddie pool are already in the works.
The blessings of Boram are already unlistable. Besides her insight to Korean culture and patient translation, she acts as an interpreter. Already she helped me order a meatless menu at this wonderful pizza place. We sat on pillows in a room where soup, bread, pickles, salad, pizza, coffee and cheesecake were brought to us by impeccable service (which I'm still adjusting to not tipping for) that only cost around $12. She also has a car, which is invaluable here for taking me beyond downtown.
She and Woody took me to Lotte Mart- a massive 5-story Targetish buy-anything-you-could-imagine sort of place. After navigating our way through crowds of Koreans, whose cart traffic is as chaotic a system as their roadways, she drove me back to my place where I made my first peanut butter and jelly since leaving the states. Good lord did I miss my Skippy.
Woody's southern midwest nature fits right nice with me--and the friends they've shared with me seem fully ready and willing for anything I could offer. There's such a mix of personalities here, yet we all share one thing in common: we are open, honest, and 100% genuine from the get-go. No wasting time with drama or masks. Travelers, I have always believed, step outside of the pettiness that exists in the stagnant life; Korea is proving this to be truer than I could have imagined.
I've gone out and run into several other people from my EPIK class. The past two nights several of the guys met up at Waegu (foreigner) bars. Corona seems to be the place for me, right across the train station, a few blocks walk. There is a good mix of Koreans and foreigners, so I don't feel completely cut off from the culture there, and the owners are incredibly welcoming and excited to see us. And there is whiskey. Ah, what a break from Soju, even if it is a bit more expensive. Warms my soul. And decent music, and a bit of dance party seems to find its what in each night. I even managed a bit of Hula hooping last night. Made me miss my sistas back in Manhappening. But no longer O'Malley's Alley, Gumi is the place to be.
Saturday night I got my first real look at the intensity of Korean honor codes. Jack, a guy from Wales who was in my group, met me and we made friends with several English dudes who had been in town a lot longer. First Corona, then over to Mai Tai where we drank coctails from buckets, then back to Corona where we melded into a larger group of Western revelers. A Korean man named Kevin had gotten himself good and sloshed and was chummin up with the group of us. PLayed a bit of Jenga (oh that really reminded me of home) and watched as Kevin's wife waited, dozed, and waited. Sometimes she would join us a bit, but it was clear she was much more aware and ready to leave. Well, sadly Mister Kevin was not, took a swing at her (thank god he missed) and the Korean DJ (who I hear is typically mild mannered) took after Kevin. Fists-a-flew. And, being in the Western bar, western minds stepped in, and there were Jack and some very big English arms trying to hold the two back. They tood it outside, we tried to get Kevin to leave, and all he kept spouting was that he was going to kill him. Kill him. The DJ, bent on his own rules of honor, wanted to kill Kevin (who in everyone's eyes, deserved it). I am told he is known for beating his wife, which is appalling since she is there taking care of him, waiting on him, feeling shame like no one could believe and still being the supporting wife. It did not sit right with any of us. And there was Kevin, his mouth all bloody, trying to tell me that the DJ shamed HIM and would die for it.
Soju brings out the best and worst of men; travel all the way around the world and it's the same. If not for the foreign interference, I have no doubt those two would have battled it out to the end. It's an odd tension I'm trying to get my mind around, this country--and my province in particular--where there is no crime towards others, you can safely walk the streets alone, and yet, if someone feels their honor has been taken, they will turn with an intensity to reclaim it. It's not the same as bar fights back home where people drunkenly brawl out for no reason at all; there is a charge that drives them here, and will probably cause it to end in extremes. But, luckily for the group mentality here, no one outside is included. It is a contained sort of violence.
Aside from that one insident, which was in a sick way, quite thrilling (especially for Jack, who said he'd never been part of a proper fight in his life), peace abounds. In this city that is bustling, people seem to be laughing, enjoying themselves, weaving in and out of each other with no problem at all. The mist clings to the mountains, the temple peaks out of all the bustle of everyday life, and the neon and hello kitty bring cartoonish fun to everything. Easy to slip into, easy to become a part of. And ridiculously easy to move into the close-knit community of foreigners living within it all.
I start teaching tomorrow. Big day. I'm excited to meet my kids and work with Woody and my Korean coworkers. I know I can handle Gumi; I hope it is ready for me.
Woody, my American team-teacher and guide to the world that is Gumi--has been taking me around with his Korean fiance, Boram. English-meets-Korean, midwest-meet-far east. Best of both worlds there. I helped them move from across the hall of my apartment to a much swankier setup a half block away. They have a sweet pad and roof access where we take breaks and have a great view of the town and mountain. Fully excited for future BBQs and sunbathing. Plans for a kiddie pool are already in the works.
The blessings of Boram are already unlistable. Besides her insight to Korean culture and patient translation, she acts as an interpreter. Already she helped me order a meatless menu at this wonderful pizza place. We sat on pillows in a room where soup, bread, pickles, salad, pizza, coffee and cheesecake were brought to us by impeccable service (which I'm still adjusting to not tipping for) that only cost around $12. She also has a car, which is invaluable here for taking me beyond downtown.
She and Woody took me to Lotte Mart- a massive 5-story Targetish buy-anything-you-could-imagine sort of place. After navigating our way through crowds of Koreans, whose cart traffic is as chaotic a system as their roadways, she drove me back to my place where I made my first peanut butter and jelly since leaving the states. Good lord did I miss my Skippy.
Woody's southern midwest nature fits right nice with me--and the friends they've shared with me seem fully ready and willing for anything I could offer. There's such a mix of personalities here, yet we all share one thing in common: we are open, honest, and 100% genuine from the get-go. No wasting time with drama or masks. Travelers, I have always believed, step outside of the pettiness that exists in the stagnant life; Korea is proving this to be truer than I could have imagined.
I've gone out and run into several other people from my EPIK class. The past two nights several of the guys met up at Waegu (foreigner) bars. Corona seems to be the place for me, right across the train station, a few blocks walk. There is a good mix of Koreans and foreigners, so I don't feel completely cut off from the culture there, and the owners are incredibly welcoming and excited to see us. And there is whiskey. Ah, what a break from Soju, even if it is a bit more expensive. Warms my soul. And decent music, and a bit of dance party seems to find its what in each night. I even managed a bit of Hula hooping last night. Made me miss my sistas back in Manhappening. But no longer O'Malley's Alley, Gumi is the place to be.
Saturday night I got my first real look at the intensity of Korean honor codes. Jack, a guy from Wales who was in my group, met me and we made friends with several English dudes who had been in town a lot longer. First Corona, then over to Mai Tai where we drank coctails from buckets, then back to Corona where we melded into a larger group of Western revelers. A Korean man named Kevin had gotten himself good and sloshed and was chummin up with the group of us. PLayed a bit of Jenga (oh that really reminded me of home) and watched as Kevin's wife waited, dozed, and waited. Sometimes she would join us a bit, but it was clear she was much more aware and ready to leave. Well, sadly Mister Kevin was not, took a swing at her (thank god he missed) and the Korean DJ (who I hear is typically mild mannered) took after Kevin. Fists-a-flew. And, being in the Western bar, western minds stepped in, and there were Jack and some very big English arms trying to hold the two back. They tood it outside, we tried to get Kevin to leave, and all he kept spouting was that he was going to kill him. Kill him. The DJ, bent on his own rules of honor, wanted to kill Kevin (who in everyone's eyes, deserved it). I am told he is known for beating his wife, which is appalling since she is there taking care of him, waiting on him, feeling shame like no one could believe and still being the supporting wife. It did not sit right with any of us. And there was Kevin, his mouth all bloody, trying to tell me that the DJ shamed HIM and would die for it.
Soju brings out the best and worst of men; travel all the way around the world and it's the same. If not for the foreign interference, I have no doubt those two would have battled it out to the end. It's an odd tension I'm trying to get my mind around, this country--and my province in particular--where there is no crime towards others, you can safely walk the streets alone, and yet, if someone feels their honor has been taken, they will turn with an intensity to reclaim it. It's not the same as bar fights back home where people drunkenly brawl out for no reason at all; there is a charge that drives them here, and will probably cause it to end in extremes. But, luckily for the group mentality here, no one outside is included. It is a contained sort of violence.
Aside from that one insident, which was in a sick way, quite thrilling (especially for Jack, who said he'd never been part of a proper fight in his life), peace abounds. In this city that is bustling, people seem to be laughing, enjoying themselves, weaving in and out of each other with no problem at all. The mist clings to the mountains, the temple peaks out of all the bustle of everyday life, and the neon and hello kitty bring cartoonish fun to everything. Easy to slip into, easy to become a part of. And ridiculously easy to move into the close-knit community of foreigners living within it all.
I start teaching tomorrow. Big day. I'm excited to meet my kids and work with Woody and my Korean coworkers. I know I can handle Gumi; I hope it is ready for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)