Seoul in February

My Way Home: Hongdae Exit 9

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Ssamziegil,Insa-dong

The Horvaths Visit Korea

The Usual: Protests Outside the US Embassy

Military Training at the War Museum

Gwanghwamun Square

이대

Frozen Han

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One of Many New Faces ^^

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Family Ties

About an hour ago my host mom came back from her business trip. My host dad picked her up at the bus station and brought her back to an empty house, aside from myself. My host brothers came back from their music lessons a few minutes later and quickly showered her with a perfect blend of teasing and hugging that fully displayed their affection, while still maintaining their toughness (not even Korean boys are going to admit to being momma’s boys). Finally, 엄마 is back and the boys can stop trying to pass off their seared spam slices as a meal(s).

This is what we look like when Ma comes home.

The fact that my host mom came home from a 4-hour bus ride and immediately started preparing food for tomorrow’s meals barely scratches the surface of her selflessness, but there will be many more posts on that in the future (and the past) . She was only gone for 48 hours but for the two quiet evenings with fruitless desserts it felt like the house had lost its soul. My host mom is the keystone to the Kim family and her return tonight reminded me of so many other times when the love of Korean families got glossed over in the daily shuffle.

From local university students telling us about their weekend hikes with their fathers, to our Korean language teacher reminding me

No sweetie, it's pronounced "nucular."

that, at 28, she still lives with her parents (because she is unmarried), I realize that those ludicrously un-independent situations are bred from the nuclear Korean family. While I cringe at the thought of hanging out with my parents every weekend in the States or moving back home after my grant year I can understand it a bit more every time my host family silently nudges the food I like in front of me or my host brothers lovingly maul their mother after a “long” absence.

There is a goodness in their interactions that I will never personally experience—because I am American and too far gone—which I’m fine with, but watching boys lovingly razz their mother after a brief absence while most American teenagers would blow smoke at her gives me something to appreciate the next time I hear that a Korean in their mid-20s still lives at home.

The Week that Was: Friends, Art, and Inspiration

FRIENDS

On Tuesday afternoon one of my closest friends in Korea, Korena (I know, it still gets me too sometimes), came all the way down to Naju to visit. She unfortunately missed her train in the morning and was unable to observe my classes but we still managed to tour the campus– a campus that has around 1200 Koreans on it with about 15 of them being females. Due to this lack of exposure Korean adolescents have difficulty grasping the concept of a male and female being platonic friends (“Teacher, teacher! Girlfriend? You girlfriend?” questions flooded our senses). After we shook off the students and left school we walked downtown.

Naju doesn’t have much of a downtown scene to offer so we were able to cover the majority of it in the little time we had. I took Korena to “my place” for kimbap and ramen, our favorite dishes, and then we chatted at a temple and WaBar. We talked a lot about how our identities as Korean-Americans are being shaped through this experience. I’ll get to reporting on my findings one of these days haha.

Finally, we ate dinner at Anskar’s homestay and demolished plate after plate of samgyeopsol. After dinner we played with his 5 year old homestay sister on her trampoline and synchronized our choreography.

She warmed up to me...eventually.

ART

According to my school’s calendar Wednesday was “Picnic Day.” Without a trace of a basket or blanket each grade went on a field trip to different sites. The 9^th grade boys went on a hike while the 7^th grade boys went to a traditional cloth-dying museum. I opted to go into Gwangju with my 8^th graders and see the Biennale Art Exhibit.

After a brief and unexpected hike, we finally arrive at the venue.

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While in Korea I've thought a lot about beauty and whether it's inherent or constructed. The scars were self-inflicted for personal gain.

Outside of school and visiting a big city, the last thing a hundred 14 year old boys want to do is wander quietly through a modern art / politically charged art exhibit; I was skeptical about going to the exhibit because I’m not a big museum guy but it turned out to be a really great day (that is before lunch and alcoholic vice principal came around). I’m sure the boys enjoyed themselves, probably for reasons other than what the artists intended, so I was glad to be there to buy them some snacks, learn some names and bond with them.

I don't know his name yet but with a pose like that the whole world's bound to know it sooner or later.

Kim Bom Joon thank you for always knowing the answers in class.

Yong Seok please stop making me laugh in class and then following me to the bar after school begging for snacks.

All 100 of 'em.

Fellow teachers. Mrs. Joo (far right) is my biggest help and the man in the middle is the librarian / former star of a 1970s American cop drama.

INSPIRATION

Over the weekend we had the first Fulbright Conference in Gyeongju for current ETAs. The conference created a four-day weekend and was advertised by a renewee as “spring break.” I was excited for both of those reasons but surprisingly the reason why I enjoyed conference was because of something completely different: it was energizing.

I usually can’t sit still for more than 20 minutes and as college showed me there’s no way I can pay attention in a lecture hall for more than 30. Workshops during orientation over the summer solidified this and made Saturday’s prospects very bleak (presentations from 8am – 4pm). The presentations varied from human trafficking to learning your middle schoolers’ names and while there were a few bland ones I’d say that as a whole I really enjoyed the day. Seeing what my peers were doing and their devotion to teaching was really inspiring; even though it’s exceedingly difficult to adapt most of their plans to my situation (very few low-level middle school teachers but seemingly a lot of advanced high school ones)  it was great to watch people’s passion and drive.

The evenings weren’t what I envisioned (we only went out once) but, along with a few lengthy and sincere conversations I had with people I don’t get to talk to too much, the inspiration from Saturday’s workshops will be what positively color my memories of our fall conference.

Fun Fact: On our rest stop from Gwangju to Gyeongju a few elementary-aged kids thought I was a famous soccer player. The kids really thought I was Cha Du-Ri. Like enough to ask me to sign their shirts. I signed about ten arms and had several pictures taken of me because the boys honestly thought I was Cha Du-Ri. I guess they didn’t notice all of the Americans (or my lack of Korean language ability) friends I was around, maybe if they did they would’ve realized haha.

That's just not fair.

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Winter break plans have hit a few roadblocks over the last week (limited mutual availability and an unsuccessful internship application) but I’m still optimistic that things will come together. While Indonesia may be unlikely I’m still holding out for a few nights in Hong Kong and a few days on the beach in Thailand. And even though I didn’t get the internship with the KAEC (Korean-American Educational Commission) I’m hopeful that a few of my other interests (working with a junior researcher and contributing to an online start-up magazine) come through.

This week is only a four-day week because we all had off on Monday due to Conference. Halloween weekend looks like it will be in Seoul. So many buses, good thing I just snagged a netbook!

Big Brother knows you’re Hungry

“Are you guys hungry?”

“No no it’s okay.”

“Hyun-Bin there’s no way you’re full after that dinner, c’mon.”

“…it’s okay it’s okay,” You Bin says. I bring out another bowl of ramen and they finally admit that they’re hungry.

So at 11pm we had ramen together, as brothers. The parents were asleep and this sort of late-night snacking is not typical in our house. The boys were extremely grateful in a quiet and satisfied sort of way.

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The 20 minutes we spent bonding over hunger and ramen was largely unremarkable, just a simple case of an older brother looking out for his younger brothers. But that’s the thing, it was probably the first time that I really felt like their older brother. During a week that I had a conversation concerning my strong American identity it’s interesting that I’m also experiencing some of the most authentic Korean experiences as well (teachers and family love).

Great, more to add to the identity whirlwind haha.

***Off to the Fulbright Conference in Gyeongju this weekend! No teaching on Friday or Monday, hooray! Seeya back on the blog on Monday for a recap of The Week that Was. Stories will ensue.

Sacked in the Endzone

The cafeteria was filled with ravenous high school students and the faculty’s table was crowded. My boys were out digesting with a game of soccer and my tray was filled with its usual components—kimchi, rice, soup—as I struggled to get to my seat. I ate quickly in silence and headed back to my classroom.

My friend—Anskar—who teaches at the high school next to me was out to lunch with his principal that day. We don’t anxiously wait for the other to finish class so we can eat together anymore. We go to the gym, walk around and grab the occasional beer together but Anskar and I don’t go to Pizza School every day like we did back in August.

The change from pizza to principals has not come as the result of a deteriorating friendship (see Surprise Birthday) but rather because we’re comfortable in Naju. Wondering if I’ll get on the bus going the wrong direction is no longer an issue and I know how much my favorite foods cost by now. As bus schedules are internalized and restaurant owners are recognized the anxiety over living in Korea inevitably eases. We no longer need to vent about homestay frustrations or the lack of red sauce here to each other on a daily basis.

None of this is surprising.

We’re safe because we’re comfortable, but that comfort’s dangerous.

Subtract the fact that crime in Korea is nearly non-existent and there is very little reason for me to be comfortable in a country that I don’t even know how to order takeout. As I welcome the comforts of a less anxious weekly routine I also lose a lot of the urgency and concern that I ought to still have.

Time for facebook is encroaching on Korean language studies because I’ve survived two months in rural Korea with my current level of Korean. Why bother putting in the effort, right? No…wrong, right?

I’m hypersensitive to complacency. Most of the times I’d say I don’t do anything about it but I always feel worse off for having settled into it.

Life in Naju (and Korea) is great. Maybe that’s the problem though. Or maybe the issue is that I always need to complain?