... forget the rose colored lenses. my world is colorful enough...

Friday, December 31, 2010

old man cold man gumi can't take it

So Koreans are very proud about having four seasons--they seem surprised sometimes to hear that, yes, a good portion of the world on the same latitudinal lines share this phenomenon...  And YET when inclement weather hits, like snow, for example, you'd think they'd never dealt with it before.  To be fair, the past year or so has brought more snow to South Korea than the country has seen in over 30 years, but considering it snowed freakishly in April and has now snowed enough in the past two weeks to cover-thaw-freeze-cover- every driving and walking path of Gumi, you'd think they'd be a bit prepared.
Don't get me wrong, the snow is beautiful, and brings a bit of a relief to the annoyingly bitter cold, sun-shining deceptive cold.  Bring on those fatty flakes and all the fun that comes with them...
Except the streets are mush and ice, cars are fishtailing and skidding and I'm watching people bite it right and left, fearing a bit for my klutz-prone self.  But if I could, if there was some way to pantomime without slipping and eating ass on the icy streets I'm trying to save them from, I would try and communicate a lesson or two to these folks who don't seem to own salt or shovels or have the sense to walk down icy sidewalks without their hands in their pockets or can't seem to take their foot off the accelerator long enough to consider other ways of getting their car unstuck...oh the hilarity.




















Wednesday, December 15, 2010

a holiday letter home

So I know I've been horrible at updating, but it has been a very hectic fall-into-winter.  I wrote a letter home for the holidays, rehashing and reflecting on where I'm at now.  It's a holiday letter for the family, so it's long and sappy, but sums up the feeling of my year in Korea in as brief a way as I can (and still SO much is missing, GAH!)



성탄절 보내요!a
메리 크리스마스!b


December 2010

Happy Holiday from the Eastern Hemisphere!
Since the holiday season kicked off, and let’s just include everything from July 4th potluck bbqs to Thanksgiving feasts to the quickly approaching Christmas and New Year’s revelries, being on the other side of the world makes celebrating a bit trickier.  In fact, being on the other side of the world where ovens, cheese, bread, and decent wine and chocolate are rare, the reality of missing out on these holidays settles even stronger in the deep recesses of my soul, namely, my stomach.  But the cravings for home are burdens I am always ready to face when the opportunity of a new adventure presents itself.  Alissa takes on Asia

Almost a year in Korea and this country and all its odd charms have worked very hard to fill the holes of a home back in the states.  I’ve eaten some amazing (김치, 김밥, 파전, 호떡) and not-so-amazing things (worst being 번데기, silk worm larvae), drank even more amazing things (oh 막걸리 makeolli, how I will miss you), and amazed myself with my mastery of chopsticks.  I bow to all adults and elders, exchange gifts with the proper hands, and leave my shoes at the door without a second thought.  Navigating the Korean culture comes naturally now.  I even take my toilet paper with me to the bathroom, fetch the water at the kimbap shops, and never expect a divided check.  I am used to the “Conundrums of Korea” as I like to call them, where following a strict code and the-way-things-are-is-end-all-be-all attitude (don’t even try to change an item on a menu, even leaving a strip of ham off of something they are making fresh) and then schedules and plans will change last minute, with no warning.  I respond to these conundrums with an “Oh, Korea” acceptance and go with the flow, perhaps the best lesson this culture can teach anyone.  There are some things, however I will never adjust to, such as the smelly bathrooms, squat toilets (where I refuse to go #2), the pushing and shoving and horrible queuing etiquette, and not being allowed to try things on in the shops.  It’s all part of my Korea, though—good, bad, funny, smelly—this exciting chapter in my story. 

My Korea isn’t just Korean—it’s actually less Korean than you’d think.  I’m not a tourist, and not a Korean, but a Waegook, a foreigner (Western/English speaking) living in Korea.  There are loads of us, and we do what any Westerners that don’t know a language would do—we glue ourselves together by our mutual outsider-ness, our mutual stranded-ness in small apartments, and our mutual love to party.  So every weekend, every evening, we slip outside of the very Korean world that is our work life and come together with an excitement appropriate for reunions with long-lost family members.  Oh yea, we have fun.  We meld our cultures together, collide it with Korea, and a strange amalgamation of accents, customs and dance moves is born.  And this is our community, our friends, our family.  All of us, only digitally connected to our home continents, have bonded with a waste-no-time-this-is-it intensity.  Inside jokes, nicknames, trust, love, all the things we take years to develop in our comfortable lives happens in moments over here.  It’s wonderful.  My “Korean Family.”

With the help of my Korean and Waegookin companions, I have made this year the most eventful one of my life, determined not to waste a moment.  Every weekend I set a rule for myself: a bit of culture, a bit of partying.  Balance is important.  So taking advantage of Korea’s excellent infrastructure, I set out on a new adventure and leave my wonderful city of Gumi almost every weekend (I think so far, I’ve stayed in Gumi about 5 weekends since I’ve been here).  I’ve seen more of Korea than most of my coworkers or students—as of yet I’ve been to all but one of the provinces.  I hunted down every excuse to visit a place I could find: Green tea festivals, Strawberry festivals, Soju and Makeoli festivals, Mask festivals, Cherry Blossom festivals, Breakdancing festivals, Fireworks, Graffiti festivals, Lantern festivals (Korea loves its festivals).  My favorites were the Boryeong Mud festival where we rolled around in anti-aging mud on a beach like a bunch of three year olds all weekend, or the Jisan Valley Rock festival where I camped in the mountains with amazing music and dancing and revelry.  The weekend adventures are fantastic.

Better than the weekends though, are the real holidays.  Beijing for a week was my first visit to China, where I walked on the Great Wall and saluted Mao (to the chagrin of the guard next to me) and visited temple upon temple.  A week in Beijing in a heatwave reinfused me with a whole new love for Korea, and made even Korea feel clean.  Another week was spent on Jeju-do (Korea’s Hawaii) where we rode scooters and swam on black sand beaches and met the sunrise from the cliffs of a crater (yea, I climbed it twice at 5am).  And one of the best times of the year was a 2 1/2 week visit from my friend Kacye from back home, where I got to get excited about Korea all over again, desperately, and somewhat defensively, trying to prove to her how wonderful my Korea is.  And I got to share a piece of home with everyone here.  The goodbye was a bit sad.

My adventures continue, and I can’t wait.  In my sights are Malaysia, Thailand, more of Korea.  When my heels are clicked and I find myself back in Kansas, I can’t wait to see what I find; just as much of an adventure will come in Kansas as it did in Korea.

This whole experience makes me feel simultaneously more and less connected with the people I love—all across the world.  Skype, Facebook, Email, these digital tools that make us feel connected and yet remind us that we aren’t connected in the warm-blooded way we need to be (like hugs) at least give us something.  But while I am terrible at keeping constant correspondence, or even keeping my blog updated, all of you are with me, all the time, in every experience.  When Grammie died, it hit home even more, how far away I am from everyone back home, but how strong we are still connected.  And while every experience here is different (and sometimes lacking) from the way things are done back home, I am able to enjoy the new things and gain a whole new appreciation for what I’ve left behind (and will definitely relish when I return to it). 

It doesn’t matter where I am or who I meet or how much time I have with them, it what I do in that time that matters.  I don’t want to be just a red herring in someone else’s story; I want to be a positive force that contributes to the story.  It’s about impact.  It’s about infusing every moment, every interaction, with all the honesty and joy and love I have to offer.  Sharing, building, passing it on.  It’s too bad that all these feel-good thoughts only seem to enter the mainstream discussion around the holidays.  Cliché as it sounds, we should be treating everyday like the holidays, living and sharing to the extreme.  I didn’t need to travel halfway around the world to learn that life should be a celebration, but it sure has helped me keep celebrating the new tastes along with the old. 

Wishing you all the constant revelry and wonder that comes when we share our lives with those around us.  Keep the connections strong and keep feeling the Happy Holidays all the other days. 

Love and Peace from the East!



P.S. To all of you who have followed my adventures with interest, who have given me the gift of your thoughts, love, time, or goodies (especially the goodies ^_^), thank you so much.  You have filled me with so much happiness and love I could burst into thousands of brilliant colors (I still have fireworks on the brain).   

a. “Seongtancheol jal bonaeyo” = have a good Christmas
b. “Merry Chrismusuh!” = Merry Christmas

Monday, November 8, 2010

we mean business

Koreans take education serious--WAY more seriously than anything I've ever encountered before.  Even in higher levels of academia, I've never seen the end-all-be-all, your-fate-depends-on-this-test attitude until I came here.  From students walking like zombies from lack of sleep and fueled by packets of Maxim gold, to parents coming to pray outside the schools, there is a loom and doom that far outweighs any excitement or enjoyment in learning.

And now I get to experience the level of importance in my role as an educator first hand.  Today, I will be shipped off to a hotel with four other teachers, sequestered indoors with no communication with the outside.  Why the seclusion?  Because we are preparing the entrance exams for the student applicants to the highschool.  My precise job?  Write 2 interview questions (already did it) for the one student who is applying to the advanced program, who is guaranteed into the program already.  But just in case we aren't trustworthy enough, the school board can't risk us potentially leaking the questions.  Just in case, they better keep us locked up for 24 hours...

Friday, October 29, 2010

holes

Korea is putting holes in all of my socks.  All those colorful holidays mom gave me are slowly being eaten away by a crappy washing machine.

Friday, October 15, 2010

distance sucks

As much as I love to travel and live abroad, occasionally I get reminders of how much a life like this can also suck.  Separation.  Distance.  Heavy heavy things...
As much as new technology kids us into feeling connected, it also just reaffirms how far away we are.  How disconnected we become.   We're mammals.  Face it, without contact, without presence, what are we to each other?

Today I found out my grandma died through facebook.  Thank you technology, for keeping me so well informed.  I actually missed the first clue of a status update from my aunt, announcing the news.  I actually sent her a wonderfully supportive condolence message, thinking I was referring to her mother-in-law.  I actually still didn't make the connection that it was, indeed, her mother, my grandmother, she was talking about even after the "call me asap" urgent email from my mother.  All this distance has made me dense.  Well, international dialing failure and poor cross-hemisphere timing resulted in me getting the news through a facebook chat with my little brother.  Having this news broken in blunt text in a little box under pictures of the last makeoli night is a bit surreal.  Nice poetic juxtaposition with the abandoned revelry we're having over here.  Indulgence vs. loss...god did I feel like an asshole.  Okay, not yet.  I felt a bit shocked.  Then quite heartbroken.  Then blubbery.  Then like an asshole for being clear across the world wanting nothing more than to give my dad a hug.

After a bit of confusion with my boss who apparently saw my tears, and thought my request to go home was to return to America, I finally made it home for a skype with my parents.   Suddenly I am no longer in the future.  Suddenly I am the one listening for the news.  Skype with tears and broken silence.  Strange.  And still, no touch.  No way to reach out.  Strange how these losses can even bring us together in the digital age, but still keep us so so so far apart.  Man.

I'm not the first of my friends over here to experience this.  But wow, did not expect it.  And when will it sink in fully?  When I return home and there's no Grammie Lou.  No house in Horton to visit?  No more sugar cookies and buckeyes at Christmas?  Usually it's her tears at the family get togethers, but now those will be transferred to everyone else's cheeks.

I'm pretty ok with death.  In fact, me and Grammie, we're cool.  We connected through the sunshine this afternoon, through warm feelings and wind and memory.  Her face is still sharp and lovely in my mind (I don't care how cheesy you think that sounds).  The heaviest part of all of this is being separate from everyone else.  I immediately think of my dad.  Of both my parents with all their kids now far away...man.  And my aunts and uncles and the holidays coming.  And how my generation, all of us cousins, really aren't as connected.  This too shall pass.  What glue is going to be there when we're the adults, scattered all over, communicating way less frequently despite the modern ease of it.  This kind of change is a heavy thing.

I'm crap at keeping up contact over distance.  I wrote her another letter a few weeks ago and I am lucky it arrived just in time.  Lucky me, she got to hear how much I missed her food.  How touching.  I last saw her on my way to the casino with Jason, to play in my first poker tournament (which I did quite well in, considering...).  That visit was a completely last minute event, and how wonderful those moments in the kitchen were.  And then I came to Korea.

But really, it's times like these that just reinforce the importance of connecting, making the most of every moment we're together.  The people I love are with me every day, and even if they only hear from me in the occasional letter, I just have to trust that they know how much I carry them with me.  Over distances like these, instead of feeling disconnected, I have to believe that we are strong forces in each others' lives--not just as memories, but as a constant presence, so we are never really alone, connected despite being worlds away.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

gathering for dancing!!!

SoKo has delivered me some great shows.  Headin to Seoul today for Global Gathering.  It's gonna be sick.

Check out the lineup here: Global Gathering Korea

pumped to see justice again...


Tuesday, October 5, 2010

bliss in juice and steam

Last night I climbed a thorny tree outside my apartment, stealth style, armed with a soju buzz, and liberated four fat pomegranates.  Red juicy little kernels, each tiny bite an explosion of flavor and excitement at dodging the landlord.

Tonight I returned to the sauna with Portia for the first time in months.  Soaking, salting, scrubbing.  Steam and chat, soggy and relaxed.

Just a few of Korea's love letters.