You want me to put the what in the what? March 23, 2008

I’m not going to beat around the bush on this one.  I have plumbing issues.  Not just a “I can’t flush much tissue down the toilet”; it’s more of a “I can’t flush ANY tissue down the toilet”. Ever.  I was warned about this horrible plumbing issue from the previous teacher who occupied the space and I think my Western brain couldn’t process the concept of not flushing any toilet paper down the bowl.  I just nodded my head with a slightly agape mouth and said, “Ummm, okaaaayyy”. 

Naturally I presumed she really meant that I wouldn’t be able to flush a whole boat load of tissue but I soon found out that even the minuscule amount of TP causes it to stop working.  I immediately went to the director of my school the following day to report the problem.  I assumed I would get a maintenance man sent to my apt to fix the problem but she sent the head assistant who handles all of our apt problems to my place to check out the damage. 

The head assistant comes over that evening and highly confuses me when she whips out a bottle of Drano.  From the looks of it, this problem has passed the point of Drano and needs plumber assistance.   After she pours the drano, she says, “Okay done”.  Yes done for that day but what about the next day and the next?  She speaks limited english so I figure I will re-explain to my director that I need an actual plumber dispatched to my apt and the confusion will be settled.  Not so.  

The next day, my director tells me the head assistant told her my toilet stopped up because I flushed tissue down the drain and to never put tissue down it again.  What do you mean, never put tissue down the toilet again?  That’s insane right?  Well no, it’s actually not insane here.  Apparently, Korea has plumbing issues and many people still don’t flush much tissue down the bowl.  They put the used tissue in a bag in the trash next to the toilet.   I hate to sound negative but I was severly grossed out and I didn’t want to get down with this. 

But unless I want to use a plumbing device every time I go to the toilet, I am being forced to get down with it.  I use to always throw around the term, ”I have an open mind” and can deal with mostly anything but my “open mind” is quickly losing ground with this toilet fiasco.  

I just got a bit unlucky though because some toilets can handle tissue while others simply cannot.   So when you guys are having a tough day, say a prayer for me and be happy that you can flush TP.  We gotta count the mini-blessings right…  

    

Photos… March 17, 2008

I haven’t bought a camera yet but for the meantime I am going to post some of my coworker’s photos.  All of the photos below are of my neighborhood (Suyu) so you guys can get a glimpse of what I look at everyday.  He is a really good photographer so enjoy!

This work by William George is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

There is no last call March 10, 2008

I danced with a cute gay man, learned some Korean and stayed out till 5am but not all in that order.  Saturday started with me and another teacher (D) trekking to a community center to take free Korean lessons.  I have been warned by other teachers to tackle learning the language as soon as you arrive to this country before the complacency sets in and you become comfortable with pointing to what you want. 

After the class, D and I went to eat at an amazing Shabu restaurant which counted as the best meal I have had so far in Seoul.  We were flirting with the idea of going out to a bar later in the night with another fellow teacher but not fully committed to going.  I kept insisting that I would only go out if I knew that I would be back home by 1am.  I had Sunday service to attend the next morning afterall. 

We ended up in the foreigner’s part of town which has at least 20 bars in a 1 mile radius.  This could be dangerous.  This area at night has a spring break vibe to it; young people walking on the streets, out of one bar on to the next.  We started at a straight bar, had some shots with a group of expats and boogied on a makeshift dancefloor by the DJ.  J(other teacher) dragged us to a gay bar he frequents every weekend and I followed because I had no concept of time at this point. 

A cute gay boy was eyeing D all night but soon realized he was straight and proceeded to dance with me for the rest of the night.   D wasn’t feeling the gay bar after my umpteenth dance with cute gay boy and suggested we go home.   I glanced at my watch as we got in the cab and saw 4am.  What the?  Did I not hear them say last call?  D said there is no last call in Korea and you have to keep track of time some other way.  

He wanted to go flirt with some bartender at a local bar after spending 3/4’s of the night in the gay bar and I easily complied.  As I drank my last beer, I thought about how I would be singing church hymns in less than 5 hours.  Oh, where was the last call when I truly needed it… 

I think I live in the ghetto… March 8, 2008

It’s always hard to describe one’s exact thoughts or views about a city upon the first sighting.  After the initial shock of being in a new place washes away, it’s easier to decide how you feel about a city.  When I moved to Boston for undergrad, I remember thinking how old and historical the city felt every time I walked the streets.  Los Angeles seemed so fresh, expansive and sunny when I first arrived there. 

My first impression of Seoul left me thinking I had disembarked in Neon heaven.  Neon signs are literally everywhere in my neighborhood.  There is even a church right by my apartment building that showcases a neon sign.  I live in a grimy, edgy district of Seoul and the people in this area seem to be working class.

Last weekend I took a subway ride to another neighborhood to get a different visual perspective on this urban jungle.  I went to a part of town that is close to a lot of universities and it was absolutely gorgeous.  There was less neon, cleaner streets, neat looking boutiques and cool cafes. 

So on the following Monday morning, I asked one of the other foreign teachers how Seoulites viewed the area we live in and she said, “Oh, some consider it the ghetto”.  Hmmm, I wouldn’t have necessarily gone as far to call it a ghetto but every culture has its own meanings for words.  However, according to encyclopedia brittanica, a ghetto is:

• a quarter of a city in which members of a minority group live especially because of social, legal, or economic pressure   

There are definitely no minorities in this neighborhood outside of the few foreign teachers who trickle in and out of the area for their year contracts and I’m not sure about Koreans having to live here vs other nicer neighborhoods due to social, legal or economic pressures because I don’t know any Koreans to get their opionions.  But, I have recently learned that the mafia opened a lot of brothels in this area and it is considered the red light district. 

Yep, you heard me right, I live in the red light district of Seoul!  There is even a street where women sit in windows waiting for potential suitors to come and give them employment.  I haven’t been to this street yet but I will be making a journey down there soon enough to see if it rivals the red light district of Amsterdam.

Although it is the red light district, this area still has a very family oriented vibe to it.  In the mornings, I see parents taking their kids to school and senior citizens having their morning walks.  There are a vast array of nice restaurants of Korean, American, Chinese and Japanese cuisines within 5 minute walking distance to my apartment.  There is even a body shop (facial products) in this area which would never be in any ghetto back home.   I think Seoul might be on to something.  Just because you live in the red light district, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be able to go have a nice dinner and then go pick up that new exfoliating mask you’ve been eyeing in the store window… 

So far so good March 5, 2008

I just finished my second day of teaching and I made it out alive.  Okay, it wasn’t that serious but it was tiring.  I was exhausted yesterday; I forgot how much energy kids take.  I’ve also never had a job where I had to be “on” all day.  No time for secretly Im’ing friends, online shopping or just plain slacking on the job.  I guess that’s a good thing. 

I have to teach roughly 4-6 classes a day depending on the day of the week.  When I got here, I found out that I was going to be a kindergarten teacher because one of the teachers had just given her 2 week notice to leave.  So, I got switched from middle school to kindergarten.  I quickly learned that I would be teaching a “real” kindergarten class when I went through the orientation.  I was prepared to teach elementary and middle school kids english after they finished up with their Korean school but the kindergarten program entails teaching english, music, drama, math, phonics, science and art.  Korean schools start with first grade so some parents choose to send their kids to english kindergarten school so they can get a head start on learning english.  Of course everything always sounds much easier than it actually is so I thought I could do it no problem.

However, the problem lies in teaching kids these subjects when the only english they know how to say is hello.  They all know how to sing the ABC song but when you point to say a P in the alphabet, they go, “C”!  Another thing that we have to do is give them “english” names.  A few of the children are able to grasp the concept of my korean name vs my english name but most of them just stare at you blankly when you call their english name.  I can’t have half blame them because if someone just started calling me Han Ming one day, I would look at he/she crazy too.  The other teachers tell me that one day they just ”get it” and start to answer to their english name.  

They are really cute though and extemely respectful of their elders.  They bow to me whenever they have to leave the classrooom to go to the bathroom.  But I’ve heard that once they get more comfortable with the teacher, the mischievious side comes out a little in some of them.  Today, one little girl was fascinated by my hair.  While I was helping one of the students with a word, she kept lifting my hair up and down.  I kept trying to tell her no but she would still try and lift it up.  I’m sure I am the first black person all of them have seen which breeds curiousity.

So far being a teacher is fun but I’ll have to wait and see if I feel the same way after preparing my 100th lesson plan…    

      

I just want to understand and be understood March 2, 2008

The meaning of novelty has changed a lot for me in the past few days.  A few weeks ago, I would have never thought it was a novelty to be able to understand the words coming out of people’s mouths.  The ability to communicate is boldly automatic when one is communicating in its native language.  

When you can’t communicate at all, you start to resort to gesturing and pointing.   I went to buy a cellphone yesterday and the salesman knew how to say hello in english.  I knew how to say hello in korean and that was the extent of our communication.  But through gesturing, pointing and laughing, he managed to sell me a really cute phone and I left a happy customer. 

So far my communication at stores has been something like this:

Me: Annyong – haseyo

Clerk: Annyong – haseyo, jibberish, jibberish, jibberish

Me:  Ummm, Yes

Clerk: Jibberish, jibberish

Me:  Ummm, this one (pointing to something that I want to buy)

Clerk:  Aahhhh, jibberish jibberish jibberish

They take my money and the transaction is completed.  It’s quite funny to be honest and once I learn a little Korean, I will be able to understand some of the jibberish and not feel so confused.  Luckily Korean people are really nice and trustworthy.  If they weren’t, I would be probably be ripped off beyond belief due to the language barrier.  

Here I am, In Seoul… March 1, 2008

It’s been almost 1 month since my last post but I was at home for awhile sans internet with my folks.  I left my parents last Friday at 11:30am and hopped a plane bound for Seoul, Korea.  As I sat in the Dallas airport, I honestly still couldn’t believe I was going to Seoul. 

Many thoughts ran through my head such as, “Will I hate it”, “Will I never want to leave”, “Will I get stared at constantly” and more importantly, “Will I ever learn any of the language”??? I had 14 long hours to contemplate my future in Seoul as the plane glided through the air.  At first, I didn’t think the flight was so bad but by hour 11, I wanted to land anywhere even it was the Pacific ocean.

When I deplaned, I got my bags and exited out of customs in less than 15 minutes.  I was so excited to see a man holding a sign with my name on it.  I’ve always secretly dreamed of having my name written on one of those cardboard signs!  I presumed someone from the school I am working at was going to be there to pick me up but I soon realized it was just an ordinary cab driver who knew no lick of english. 

I kept trying to ask him questions and he shuck his head no a few times.   Looks like we were about to have a silent ride to the school.  When I walked out of the airport, I caught my first view of Seoul.  All I saw was dirty grimy smog.  The smog effect in Seoul makes LA’s smog look like a newborn baby before it hits the terrible two’s.  

Next up the cab driver couldn’t find the address on his GPS and we waited in the Airport parking lot for an additional 30 minutes while he called the school and got directions.  From what I have heard from the other teachers, no one knows how to find anything here in Seoul because the buildings are marked funny. 

So after 2 hours, I finally reached the school.  I met the director and she seemed really sweet.  She took me for dinner to a tiny Korean restaurant that had this yummy spicy chicken dish that I can’t pronounce.  After we left the restaurant, I kept looking around in awe.  Everything was so colorful; I felt like I was in a hybrid between Las Vegas and NYC.  So much energy abounded from the streets as people walked, ran or drove on their mopeds and cars.  I even saw cars parked on sidewalks. 

After dinner I went back to the apartment I am staying at and got acquainted with a few of the teachers.  They were all going out to a bar that night and I tagged along.  I was freakishly still awake and was prolly on my 15th wave of new energy for the day.  The bar was in the foreigners part of the town which I swore I would avoid but I couldn’t pass up a first night out on the town.  The bar played house music so that was right up my alley.  

Of course I had a not so chic entrance into the bar.  There was a long flight of stairs to get down into the bar and I tripped on the last step which made me fall flat on my face.  The whole bar just looked at me with blank stares while the people I was with yelled, “Oh my god, we killed the new teacher!”  But after 3 drinks I forgot all about my collaspe and enjoyed the night.  This is how it all started in Seoul and I’m sure it will get even more interesting from here..