A lot has happened in the last moneth, although Andong life is slow. I'll write notes here for myself to remember later and to give you a taste of what's to come, and later I'll write in more detail.
My boyfriend, his mother, and I went out to eat dog meat and go sing karaoke (노래방).
My boyfriend and I went on a watercolor picnic date to one of Korea's 15 national treasures.
We threw a little birthday party for his mother.
We had a party at his mother's apartment with his aunts, his uncle, and his cousins (all younger).
We packed up and came back to Seoul to stay with his father for a few days before leaving for America together.
We saw some of our friends for the last time before going to America.
Today we ate at VIPs, a popular buffet restaurant, with his father and little brother until we were so full we felt like we would surely die.
Tomorrow we will go to Everland (Korea's Disneyland) and reap the benefits of winning a couple contest: free entry, free private safari, free special dinner, free special seats for fireworks, free git set, etc.. Because our couple story is so special, we will be featured Christmas Day in one of Korea's most famous newspapers, and maybe also on TV.
Christmas Day, we're heading to America together~ almost home! I must admit I'm pretty homesick.
That's December. More details later. Intrigued?
On March 26, 2009, I left my life in America and moved to South Korea. I put my worldly possessions into two suitcases and a backpack and got on a plane. On December 8, 2012, I returned not to my hometown of Detroit, but to Silicon Valley, California, where I married an Indian engineer. In 2020, I divorced and moved to southern California. In this blog are my successes, failures, and observations of life in different cultures.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thanksgiving Day
As most of you probably know, Thanksgiving is coming up in one day (for me) or two days (in America). Try explaining to Koreans that Thanksgiving is always on a Thursday so there's no real day of the year they can mark on their calendars. Also, in America we have the Easter four: Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. I don't even know how those are decided. Not to mention our Monday holidays which very few people actually celebrate. What ever happened to normal holidays like Christmas, which is December 25th every year. Or, better yet, holidays like the 4th of July and Cinco de Mayo, which tell you the day in their very names! Anyway, confusing as it may be, it's Thanksgiving time and I didn't realize it until I saw it on my Facebook news feed. I don't know how I remembered any holidays, especially birthdays, before Facebook.
Anyway.... since my parents divorced about ten years ago, my family holidays have been a muddled mess of calendar days regardless of the confusing nature of day-of-the-week-based holidays. So, I don't really consider the day itself as important as the people and the activities that go along with it. So, if I have five Christmases on five different days like I did once two or three years ago, that's totally fine with me. Plus, for me, Thanksgiving has never been a huge deal, so not celebrating it is also fine with me. It's just... strange not to have everyone else around me celebrating it. It's strange to have the urge to draw an elaborate hand turkey and show it off to... all the people who have no idea what it means. For me, tryptophan, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin or rhubarb pie after a long day of watching older family members cook and playing with cousins and/or my brother makes my mouth water and my heart pang. Remember when dressing up like a pilgrim was a drag and dressing up like an Indian made you a cool kid for the day? Remember when hand turkeys were sacred expressions of individuality rather than cute, silly things? Growing older, remember when you first got to drink wine or champagne at dinner for Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year's Eve? Even though most of us hated it, we pretended to like it because it was oh-so-forbidden. I spent one Thanksgiving with my best friend's family in high school, and there were so many people there and so much delicious food. She and I set the table and helped out with a couple other things, and I felt so useful and needed and like I was part of something special- something that only happens once a year. Last year, my roommate and I invited my mother and brother, and some of my English students (international students studying at our university) to our apartment and hosted a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. I want to do that type of thing here, but I don't really know how to cook the food in the tiny gas-fire oven with approximate temperature in Celsius, and I wouldn't know where to buy it in the first place. Plus, I'm sure most is expensive. Maybe next year or the year after that I'll try.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, have a happy Thanksgiving, all you Americans. I really miss it. Not celebrating Easter or Independence Day was okay, but now I'm really missing the food holiday. Whether you realize it or not, food is one of the most important aspects of culture. Every (excuse the possibly inaccurate generalization) society in the world has rituals surrounding the consumption of food, including table manners, distribution of responsibility, and even restaurant manners are different. For instance, in Korea, one must call the waiter or push a call button for service. In America, waiters come to the table periodically and it's embarrassing to call one. Also, most importantly, what we like to eat is largely culture-based. In Korea, more than half of the food contains red pepper (the spicy one, not bell pepper) powder, paste, and/or peppers themselves. Most Koreans don't feel like they are eating if they don't have kimchi and rice, and prefer to have more choices of side dishes as well. In America, side dishes are included on the same plate as the main dish, because the utensil you eat with must not touch food other people might eat. There are separate serving utensils. Your food is all together on one plate, but it is seen as barbarian to mix it together. In Korea, you usually only need chopsticks and spoons, and everyone has a small dish on which to combine ingredients (like lettuce, pork, and kimchi) or to let food cool, or to avoid spilling soup on the table. So, your spoon or chopsticks make a line from the shared dish in the middle of the table to your dish (or just above it) to your mouth. Every type of food is served on a different dish. Therefore, if you are served a dish consisting of separate parts, you mix them all together before eating so it's all one dish. For instance, bibimbap, one of the most popular Korean foods in the world. It's basically rice, some vegetables, beef, and a fried egg stacked in a bowl. You add red pepper paste and mix it together before eating with a spoon. If you use chopsticks to pick out each piece separately, you are quite strange indeed. Another point about food is that culture also determines (mostly) what we are willing to eat. Yes, most of us like kung pao chicken and fortune cookies, but have you ever tasted real Chinese food? Some menu items include bugs or parts of animals Americans never thought of as edible. Even here in Korea, dog meat was traditionally eaten, and is still available. Many younger people refuse to eat it on moral principle, and others only eat it on special occasions on which dog meat is the required traditional food. But, if you think about it, how is eating a dog any different from eating a pig? Pigs are smart, clean, and make great, family friendly pets. The reason pigs that live outside roll in the mud is that they don't sweat, so they use the mud to act as sweat, allowing their body heat to escape by transferring to the evaporating water. They don't have tusks like elephants do to splash water on themselves. Anyway, dogs weren't usually pets in Korea before Western influence incited their popularity. I intend to try dog meat because I'm curious, just like I've tried almost every other food offered to me here. It's not a moral thing, it's just food. And no, Koreans aren't going to eat your dog, just like you wouldn't eat your neighbor's pet pig, chicken, cow, deer, fish, etc.. That's just xenophobic thinking.
It's interesting that an American with a Hyundai car and an LG cell phone and a Samsung TV could think that a Korean would eat their dog. Before I moved here, people asked me if there were cars in Korea, or if I was going to North or South Korea, or what language people speak in Korea. Funny to think that a few years ago, I didn't know anything about Korea either. What an oddly inspirational country!
A few years ago, I would be eagerly awaiting a week of Thanksgiving leftovers. I wonder what I'll have for dinner tomorrow.... I wonder if I can even buy turkey for a reasonable price here.....
Anyway.... since my parents divorced about ten years ago, my family holidays have been a muddled mess of calendar days regardless of the confusing nature of day-of-the-week-based holidays. So, I don't really consider the day itself as important as the people and the activities that go along with it. So, if I have five Christmases on five different days like I did once two or three years ago, that's totally fine with me. Plus, for me, Thanksgiving has never been a huge deal, so not celebrating it is also fine with me. It's just... strange not to have everyone else around me celebrating it. It's strange to have the urge to draw an elaborate hand turkey and show it off to... all the people who have no idea what it means. For me, tryptophan, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin or rhubarb pie after a long day of watching older family members cook and playing with cousins and/or my brother makes my mouth water and my heart pang. Remember when dressing up like a pilgrim was a drag and dressing up like an Indian made you a cool kid for the day? Remember when hand turkeys were sacred expressions of individuality rather than cute, silly things? Growing older, remember when you first got to drink wine or champagne at dinner for Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year's Eve? Even though most of us hated it, we pretended to like it because it was oh-so-forbidden. I spent one Thanksgiving with my best friend's family in high school, and there were so many people there and so much delicious food. She and I set the table and helped out with a couple other things, and I felt so useful and needed and like I was part of something special- something that only happens once a year. Last year, my roommate and I invited my mother and brother, and some of my English students (international students studying at our university) to our apartment and hosted a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. I want to do that type of thing here, but I don't really know how to cook the food in the tiny gas-fire oven with approximate temperature in Celsius, and I wouldn't know where to buy it in the first place. Plus, I'm sure most is expensive. Maybe next year or the year after that I'll try.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, have a happy Thanksgiving, all you Americans. I really miss it. Not celebrating Easter or Independence Day was okay, but now I'm really missing the food holiday. Whether you realize it or not, food is one of the most important aspects of culture. Every (excuse the possibly inaccurate generalization) society in the world has rituals surrounding the consumption of food, including table manners, distribution of responsibility, and even restaurant manners are different. For instance, in Korea, one must call the waiter or push a call button for service. In America, waiters come to the table periodically and it's embarrassing to call one. Also, most importantly, what we like to eat is largely culture-based. In Korea, more than half of the food contains red pepper (the spicy one, not bell pepper) powder, paste, and/or peppers themselves. Most Koreans don't feel like they are eating if they don't have kimchi and rice, and prefer to have more choices of side dishes as well. In America, side dishes are included on the same plate as the main dish, because the utensil you eat with must not touch food other people might eat. There are separate serving utensils. Your food is all together on one plate, but it is seen as barbarian to mix it together. In Korea, you usually only need chopsticks and spoons, and everyone has a small dish on which to combine ingredients (like lettuce, pork, and kimchi) or to let food cool, or to avoid spilling soup on the table. So, your spoon or chopsticks make a line from the shared dish in the middle of the table to your dish (or just above it) to your mouth. Every type of food is served on a different dish. Therefore, if you are served a dish consisting of separate parts, you mix them all together before eating so it's all one dish. For instance, bibimbap, one of the most popular Korean foods in the world. It's basically rice, some vegetables, beef, and a fried egg stacked in a bowl. You add red pepper paste and mix it together before eating with a spoon. If you use chopsticks to pick out each piece separately, you are quite strange indeed. Another point about food is that culture also determines (mostly) what we are willing to eat. Yes, most of us like kung pao chicken and fortune cookies, but have you ever tasted real Chinese food? Some menu items include bugs or parts of animals Americans never thought of as edible. Even here in Korea, dog meat was traditionally eaten, and is still available. Many younger people refuse to eat it on moral principle, and others only eat it on special occasions on which dog meat is the required traditional food. But, if you think about it, how is eating a dog any different from eating a pig? Pigs are smart, clean, and make great, family friendly pets. The reason pigs that live outside roll in the mud is that they don't sweat, so they use the mud to act as sweat, allowing their body heat to escape by transferring to the evaporating water. They don't have tusks like elephants do to splash water on themselves. Anyway, dogs weren't usually pets in Korea before Western influence incited their popularity. I intend to try dog meat because I'm curious, just like I've tried almost every other food offered to me here. It's not a moral thing, it's just food. And no, Koreans aren't going to eat your dog, just like you wouldn't eat your neighbor's pet pig, chicken, cow, deer, fish, etc.. That's just xenophobic thinking.
It's interesting that an American with a Hyundai car and an LG cell phone and a Samsung TV could think that a Korean would eat their dog. Before I moved here, people asked me if there were cars in Korea, or if I was going to North or South Korea, or what language people speak in Korea. Funny to think that a few years ago, I didn't know anything about Korea either. What an oddly inspirational country!
A few years ago, I would be eagerly awaiting a week of Thanksgiving leftovers. I wonder what I'll have for dinner tomorrow.... I wonder if I can even buy turkey for a reasonable price here.....
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Andong- the little big city explained
This is what I meant to write last time, but instead I ended up writing about visa inequality.
Andong is, compared to anywhere I have ever lived in America, a big city. But, Koreans laugh a little when they think of living in Andong, because it's the countryside. With busy streets and very few buildings less than three stories, how is this a small town? There are looming apartment buildings and the people who live in them in constant motions on the sidewalks. There are bars, restaurants, grocery stores, clothes stores, bakeries, flower shops, cafes, billiards, PC rooms, motels, convenience stores, a movie theater, and much more all in walking distance from the apartment I share with my boyfriend and his mother. And, we can get on a bus and go pretty far away to get to downtown, which is even more bustling. To me, that is a big city.
Now here are some facts to consider (from the wonderful CIA World Factbook):
South Korea has a land area of 96,920 sq km, much of which is mountainous and therefore almost uninhabitable. That makes South Korea basically a mountain range/peninsula "slightly larger than Indiana".
The population of South Korea is about 48,508,972 people (25th in the world). Women bear an average of 1.21 children, and the population growth rate is .266%, making it 178th in the world. 81% of those people (growing at a rate of .6% a year) live in cities. Notice the correlation between density (read the next paragraph) and growth.
Population density is difficult to describe in Korea because of the large amount of uninhabitable land, but here's a useful tool: The National Atlas of Korea. We live in Gyeongsangbuk-do, if you want to look at the chart. The national average population density is 474 people/square km, according to this source. Other sources report it even higher. According to Nations Online, it has the 15th highest density in the world.
Again according to the CIA factbook, The United States has a population of about 307,212,123 people (6.3 times more than South Korea) and a land area of 9,161,966 sq km (94.5 times larger than South Korea). Doing simple math with those numbers gives a population density of about 34 people/square km.
For every one person you bump into in America, there are 14 people in South Korea.
Not to make this read like a textbook, but those are some interesting numbers. Those numbers can easily explain why Andong is big to me, but small to Koreans.
In 2000, the population of Detroit, MI metropolitan area (my home) was 4,456,428. Just Detroit has a population of 912,062, according to this source. Detroit, although quickly shrinking and more or less crashing and burning due to the failure of the Big 3 (Chrysler, GM, and Ford), is one of the 15 biggest cities in America.
Not including metropolitan ares- Seoul's 2005 population estimate was 10,147,972. Busan's was 3,719,989. Incheon: 2,716,702. Daegu: 2,595,202. Daejeon, Goyang, Gwangju, Seongnam (where I lived in Bundang district, next to Seoul), Suwon, and Ulsan all have populations over 1,000,000. That's 10 cities in an area comparable to that of Michigan with more than 1 million people. Detroit, Michigan's biggest city, without its metropolitan area, has just fewer than 1 million people.
Andong has 176,164 people. Now that looks small!
East Lansing, where I go to college, has 45,857 people. In 1990, around the time I moved there as a child, Southgate, MI had a population of 30,771 people. The city in which my parents live now has a population of 69,014 people.
Andong has 176,164 people. Now that looks big!
Sorry, that was a lot of numbers, but I thought that aside from the "little big city" thing, a simple country comparison was long overdue. Especially in the Seoul area, I just don't see familiar faces in Korea. Part of the reason for that is that I don't know many people here. Part of the reason is that there are so many darn people here.
What's interesting about Andong is that I feel like I'm in a big city and a small town at the same time.
Small town- People here usually speak with an accent strong enough for me to tell the difference. If you've ever learned another language, you know that you have to be really fluent to notice accents unless they're super obvious. There are often groups of elderly people lounging around in small park areas next to the sidewalk, passing the time relaxing together. My boyfriend has two aunts who own restaurants in walking distance of our apartment, and one of them usually closes early, walks across the street, and works at her sister's restaurant for the evening. Big-city chain stores can be out-competed by locally-owned stores. You can't order chicken or pizza after about 11pm.
Big city- Everything is in walking distance in multiples and stacked on top of each other in multi-story buildings. There are almost always people on the sidewalk (less than Korean big cities, but more than a small town in America). My eyes are assaulted by advertisements when I walk outside. Famous people come to Andong to perform sometimes (this places it in the middle, but definitely is not a small town thing). Apartment buildings. Oh my god the apartment buildings in Korea- I saw a town in the countryside nestled in a valley from a train window once, and there was an array of about 20-40 (I'm not good at estimating numbers) apartment buildings reaching into the sky like long, skinny fingers digging out of the flat plain. So, in Korea, giant apartment buildings are not an indication of big cities. It's just how people live.
One last thing for this post. I thought of this the other day while blowing my nose in the shower. Bodily modesty has different standards in different countries. In Korea, sneezing, burping, coughing, farting, spitting, blowing your nose, and other such natural bodily functions are totally okay and require no verbal or gestural apology or excuse. No "God bless you" when someone sneezes, no "excuse me" after any bodily sound, no embarrassed face. Farting and burping on purpose are frowned upon or laughed at depending on age and gender and other social factors, but spitting in the street isn't impolite at all. On the other hand, facial expressions in Korea are more modest. Koreans are generally more "poker-face" people than Americans. I think part of the reason for that is that the Korean language has words for emotions that Americans have no words for, and instead express with our faces, bodies, and voices. When Korean women laugh, they usually cover their mouths with a hand or something they're holding at the time. It's rude to let someone see the inside of your mouth. There's a crossover in which Americans' disdain of bodily functions and Koreans' aversion to the inside of the mouth influence a disdain for chewing with an open mouth and yawning or coughing without covering the mouth. Of course, as always, these are my own observations and postulations, so don't take them to be 100% true, because I could just see a strange aspect of society.
Andong is, compared to anywhere I have ever lived in America, a big city. But, Koreans laugh a little when they think of living in Andong, because it's the countryside. With busy streets and very few buildings less than three stories, how is this a small town? There are looming apartment buildings and the people who live in them in constant motions on the sidewalks. There are bars, restaurants, grocery stores, clothes stores, bakeries, flower shops, cafes, billiards, PC rooms, motels, convenience stores, a movie theater, and much more all in walking distance from the apartment I share with my boyfriend and his mother. And, we can get on a bus and go pretty far away to get to downtown, which is even more bustling. To me, that is a big city.
Now here are some facts to consider (from the wonderful CIA World Factbook):
South Korea has a land area of 96,920 sq km, much of which is mountainous and therefore almost uninhabitable. That makes South Korea basically a mountain range/peninsula "slightly larger than Indiana".
The population of South Korea is about 48,508,972 people (25th in the world). Women bear an average of 1.21 children, and the population growth rate is .266%, making it 178th in the world. 81% of those people (growing at a rate of .6% a year) live in cities. Notice the correlation between density (read the next paragraph) and growth.
Population density is difficult to describe in Korea because of the large amount of uninhabitable land, but here's a useful tool: The National Atlas of Korea. We live in Gyeongsangbuk-do, if you want to look at the chart. The national average population density is 474 people/square km, according to this source. Other sources report it even higher. According to Nations Online, it has the 15th highest density in the world.
Again according to the CIA factbook, The United States has a population of about 307,212,123 people (6.3 times more than South Korea) and a land area of 9,161,966 sq km (94.5 times larger than South Korea). Doing simple math with those numbers gives a population density of about 34 people/square km.
For every one person you bump into in America, there are 14 people in South Korea.
Not to make this read like a textbook, but those are some interesting numbers. Those numbers can easily explain why Andong is big to me, but small to Koreans.
In 2000, the population of Detroit, MI metropolitan area (my home) was 4,456,428. Just Detroit has a population of 912,062, according to this source. Detroit, although quickly shrinking and more or less crashing and burning due to the failure of the Big 3 (Chrysler, GM, and Ford), is one of the 15 biggest cities in America.
Not including metropolitan ares- Seoul's 2005 population estimate was 10,147,972. Busan's was 3,719,989. Incheon: 2,716,702. Daegu: 2,595,202. Daejeon, Goyang, Gwangju, Seongnam (where I lived in Bundang district, next to Seoul), Suwon, and Ulsan all have populations over 1,000,000. That's 10 cities in an area comparable to that of Michigan with more than 1 million people. Detroit, Michigan's biggest city, without its metropolitan area, has just fewer than 1 million people.
Andong has 176,164 people. Now that looks small!
East Lansing, where I go to college, has 45,857 people. In 1990, around the time I moved there as a child, Southgate, MI had a population of 30,771 people. The city in which my parents live now has a population of 69,014 people.
Andong has 176,164 people. Now that looks big!
Sorry, that was a lot of numbers, but I thought that aside from the "little big city" thing, a simple country comparison was long overdue. Especially in the Seoul area, I just don't see familiar faces in Korea. Part of the reason for that is that I don't know many people here. Part of the reason is that there are so many darn people here.
What's interesting about Andong is that I feel like I'm in a big city and a small town at the same time.
Small town- People here usually speak with an accent strong enough for me to tell the difference. If you've ever learned another language, you know that you have to be really fluent to notice accents unless they're super obvious. There are often groups of elderly people lounging around in small park areas next to the sidewalk, passing the time relaxing together. My boyfriend has two aunts who own restaurants in walking distance of our apartment, and one of them usually closes early, walks across the street, and works at her sister's restaurant for the evening. Big-city chain stores can be out-competed by locally-owned stores. You can't order chicken or pizza after about 11pm.
Big city- Everything is in walking distance in multiples and stacked on top of each other in multi-story buildings. There are almost always people on the sidewalk (less than Korean big cities, but more than a small town in America). My eyes are assaulted by advertisements when I walk outside. Famous people come to Andong to perform sometimes (this places it in the middle, but definitely is not a small town thing). Apartment buildings. Oh my god the apartment buildings in Korea- I saw a town in the countryside nestled in a valley from a train window once, and there was an array of about 20-40 (I'm not good at estimating numbers) apartment buildings reaching into the sky like long, skinny fingers digging out of the flat plain. So, in Korea, giant apartment buildings are not an indication of big cities. It's just how people live.
One last thing for this post. I thought of this the other day while blowing my nose in the shower. Bodily modesty has different standards in different countries. In Korea, sneezing, burping, coughing, farting, spitting, blowing your nose, and other such natural bodily functions are totally okay and require no verbal or gestural apology or excuse. No "God bless you" when someone sneezes, no "excuse me" after any bodily sound, no embarrassed face. Farting and burping on purpose are frowned upon or laughed at depending on age and gender and other social factors, but spitting in the street isn't impolite at all. On the other hand, facial expressions in Korea are more modest. Koreans are generally more "poker-face" people than Americans. I think part of the reason for that is that the Korean language has words for emotions that Americans have no words for, and instead express with our faces, bodies, and voices. When Korean women laugh, they usually cover their mouths with a hand or something they're holding at the time. It's rude to let someone see the inside of your mouth. There's a crossover in which Americans' disdain of bodily functions and Koreans' aversion to the inside of the mouth influence a disdain for chewing with an open mouth and yawning or coughing without covering the mouth. Of course, as always, these are my own observations and postulations, so don't take them to be 100% true, because I could just see a strange aspect of society.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Andong- the little big city
Today my boyfriend had internet set up in the apartment, so I'll post more than once a month. Sorry about keeping you all in the dark. Anyway, this one will be short.
We bought couple plane tickets to America. We will sit next to each other on three planes for the approximately 20-25 hour journey. Then he will return to Korea on my birthday, March 25. Bad timing, but that's the way the allowed 90 days in the country fall. There is only one other option, after extensive research, that is available to us that would allow him to stay in the USA for more than 90 days. We could get married. We have neither decided to do that nor ruled it out.
Why is it that I can get a visitor's visa to Korea in 3 days with no interview and very little information given, then leave and return twice, extending my stay to 9 months? But, my boyfriend was told he had a 70% chance of failure getting a travel visa to America if he applied, which would require extensive paperwork, proofs of wealth and residency, proof of intent to leave America in a limited amount of time, and an interview. If he failed, he would not be allowed to enter the United States for a year. At all. Not even for 90 days. I know Bush's policies were intended to cut down on terrorism, but how many South Korean terrorists have you ever heard of? South Korea and the United States are extremely close and economically intertwined allies, and therefore I think the immigration and visitor policies for this country should be relaxed. It's like telling a Canadian he or she can't come to America. How ridiculous is that?
Anyway, ranting over for today. More later, as always.
We bought couple plane tickets to America. We will sit next to each other on three planes for the approximately 20-25 hour journey. Then he will return to Korea on my birthday, March 25. Bad timing, but that's the way the allowed 90 days in the country fall. There is only one other option, after extensive research, that is available to us that would allow him to stay in the USA for more than 90 days. We could get married. We have neither decided to do that nor ruled it out.
Why is it that I can get a visitor's visa to Korea in 3 days with no interview and very little information given, then leave and return twice, extending my stay to 9 months? But, my boyfriend was told he had a 70% chance of failure getting a travel visa to America if he applied, which would require extensive paperwork, proofs of wealth and residency, proof of intent to leave America in a limited amount of time, and an interview. If he failed, he would not be allowed to enter the United States for a year. At all. Not even for 90 days. I know Bush's policies were intended to cut down on terrorism, but how many South Korean terrorists have you ever heard of? South Korea and the United States are extremely close and economically intertwined allies, and therefore I think the immigration and visitor policies for this country should be relaxed. It's like telling a Canadian he or she can't come to America. How ridiculous is that?
Anyway, ranting over for today. More later, as always.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Unfortunately, there is no internet in my home now, so my posts will probably be more infrequent. I'm in a cafe now with my boyfriend, an iced cafe mocha, and a chocolate mousse cake. My taste buds are so happy!
I have yet to take pictures of the apartment I now share with my boyfriend and his mother, but I will eventually. It keeps slipping my mind. Anyway, we're very comfortable, although the language barrier makes me very shy around his mother. It's also the cause of many laughs. For instance, we were talking about how people stare at me all the time in Korea, especially here in the countryside city of Andong, and she asked if people will stare at my boyfriend when we go to America. I explained, "미국에서는 외계인이 많잖아요" which means "As you know, [unlike in Korea] in America, there are many aliens." The word "외계인" (wae-gae-een; alien) sounds like the word "외국인" (wae-goog-een; foreigner) to me, so sometimes I make that mistake. So, rather than assuring her that her son would blend in in America much better than I do in Korea, I assured her of the common knowledge that there is an ongoing extra-terrestrial invasion in my home country. Mostly, I just listen, nod, and look confused most of the time. My boyfriend's translation skills are rapidly improving, as I'm sure mine will in America.
Speaking of translation skills, as I mentioned before, my father came to Korea on a business trip a while ago. My boyfriend and I took the subway in Seoul to the express bus terminal, from which we took a bus to Andong. Once we arrived with all of my earthly belongings in tow, we rested a while and then left for Ulsan late at night. We arrived in the wee hours of the morning, and my friend 성동 (Sungdong) picked us up from the train station and took us to our friend Reza's house. We all talked for a while, then 성동 (Sungdong) went home, Reza made up a bed of blankets on the floor for my boyfriend and I, and we all slept. In the (later) morning, we woke up and Reza walked us to the bus station and gave us directions to my father's hotel.
Walking with my so very American father and my so very Korean boyfriend in Korea was... strange for sure. Not bad, just really, really, somehow intrinsically wrong. It would be even stranger if we were in France, I suppose, and then I would have a lot more translating to do because I'm the only one of the three of us who knows French. I'm sure there are a hundred million ways it could have been stranger, but I can't explain how odd it felt. As I expected, it was a jumbled collision of two worlds. It was so strange to hear my father trying to say Korean words and sounding so American, whereas in the past seven months I have begun to forget that I'm not Korean. It was so strange to have a melt-in-your-mouth filet mignon at Outback Steakhouse for lunch, speaking almost exclusively English with a person I've known my entire life in America, then stepping outside to be reminded that no, this is not America, this is Korea. It was strange to be so excited that my father had brought me American deodorant (I have yet to find deodorant in Korea I don't have to re-apply 5 times a day) and s'mores ingredients, whereas a year ago those things were just everyday items.
Now I have to sidetrack about s'mores. When we brought the marshmallows, Hershey's chocolate, and graham crackers back to Andong and shared them with my boyfriend's mother, she asked if they were expensive. I laughed, then realized that this simple food I think of as a cheap, fun part of a normal summer or autumn was a novelty to my boyfriend and his mother. Actually, my boyfriend loves s'mores, and his mother likes them, but his little brother hates them. I never imagined someone not liking s'mores, except one of my best friends, Anna, who abhors chocolate. Still, I'm sure she likes marshmallows and graham crackers. There was so much ado about s'mores in the apartment, it made me understand how I'm perceived here sometimes. In Ulsan, we walked by a cart/booth/kiosk (very common in Korea) where a man was selling fish. But it wasn't fish- it was bread shaped like fish. I was thinking, "it's shaped like a fish, so it must be fish-flavored." I've never been a fan of fish, so I was very reluctant to try it until I was informed that it had nothing to do with seafood. My dad bought one for each of us, and as soon as I bit into it apprehensively, I was elated. It was delicious! Hot, soft, sweet bread with soft red (sweet) beans inside. I love soft food, and I love sweet flavors. It was absolutely savory, and even as I'm writing this now, I'm craving another. And how clever- bread shaped like a fish! I've seen ice cream shaped like a fish, but that was the first fish-shaped bread I tasted. My boyfriend was so amused. That food is a traditional autumn food in Korea, and each one costs 1000 won, which with the exchange rate the way it is is less than $1. It's just like s'mores for my boyfriend and his mother.
After lunch in Ulsan, we walked around, alternating tour-guide roles. My father has been to Ulsan maybe five times now on business trips, and always stays in the same hotel. Like me, he's an explorer, taking the first opportunity in a new place to walk around and get the lay of the land, so he knew a bit about the area. My boyfriend is Korean, as you all know by know, so he knows more about Korea than my father and I do, and is obviously fluent in Korean. I'm between worlds; at this point I know a lot about Korea (not nearly half, I'm sure, but a lot), and I have an American perspective, so I knew what things about Korea would be the most novel for my father, and could draw interesting similarities and contrasts between cultures, much like I try to do here in my blog.
In terms of language, my boyfriend can understand the gist of English conversation better than I can understand Korean conversation, because his English vocabulary is larger than my Korean vocabulary. But, I still had to do some translating. However, as I just mentioned, my Korean vocabulary is somewhat lacking. So what I did was translate from English to couple-ish. That's my new name for the English, Korean, Konglish (Korean directly translated into English), and Youngeul (my name for the reverse of Konglish) that my boyfriend and I mix together into our own language. My boyfriend does the same (Korean -> couple-ish) for me when we talk to Koreans or watch TV.
Speaking Korean, around my father was really strange. When I left America, I had one semester of Korean class behind me, so I could read and write and say simple present-tense sentences. Now I'm using more complicated grammar structures by habit, and my vocabulary of everyday words has expanded to an almost fluent level. So, to the untrained ear, it can sound like I'm fluent in Korean even though I sound like a child to Koreans. Where I'm going with this is that Here I am in Korea, chatting away in Korean with my Korean boyfriend and then shifting to English with my American father in America-wait no- still in Korea!
Anyway, I have a lot of things to take care of, so I will write more later, as always. I hope this satisfied curiosity for a while. :)
I have yet to take pictures of the apartment I now share with my boyfriend and his mother, but I will eventually. It keeps slipping my mind. Anyway, we're very comfortable, although the language barrier makes me very shy around his mother. It's also the cause of many laughs. For instance, we were talking about how people stare at me all the time in Korea, especially here in the countryside city of Andong, and she asked if people will stare at my boyfriend when we go to America. I explained, "미국에서는 외계인이 많잖아요" which means "As you know, [unlike in Korea] in America, there are many aliens." The word "외계인" (wae-gae-een; alien) sounds like the word "외국인" (wae-goog-een; foreigner) to me, so sometimes I make that mistake. So, rather than assuring her that her son would blend in in America much better than I do in Korea, I assured her of the common knowledge that there is an ongoing extra-terrestrial invasion in my home country. Mostly, I just listen, nod, and look confused most of the time. My boyfriend's translation skills are rapidly improving, as I'm sure mine will in America.
Speaking of translation skills, as I mentioned before, my father came to Korea on a business trip a while ago. My boyfriend and I took the subway in Seoul to the express bus terminal, from which we took a bus to Andong. Once we arrived with all of my earthly belongings in tow, we rested a while and then left for Ulsan late at night. We arrived in the wee hours of the morning, and my friend 성동 (Sungdong) picked us up from the train station and took us to our friend Reza's house. We all talked for a while, then 성동 (Sungdong) went home, Reza made up a bed of blankets on the floor for my boyfriend and I, and we all slept. In the (later) morning, we woke up and Reza walked us to the bus station and gave us directions to my father's hotel.
Walking with my so very American father and my so very Korean boyfriend in Korea was... strange for sure. Not bad, just really, really, somehow intrinsically wrong. It would be even stranger if we were in France, I suppose, and then I would have a lot more translating to do because I'm the only one of the three of us who knows French. I'm sure there are a hundred million ways it could have been stranger, but I can't explain how odd it felt. As I expected, it was a jumbled collision of two worlds. It was so strange to hear my father trying to say Korean words and sounding so American, whereas in the past seven months I have begun to forget that I'm not Korean. It was so strange to have a melt-in-your-mouth filet mignon at Outback Steakhouse for lunch, speaking almost exclusively English with a person I've known my entire life in America, then stepping outside to be reminded that no, this is not America, this is Korea. It was strange to be so excited that my father had brought me American deodorant (I have yet to find deodorant in Korea I don't have to re-apply 5 times a day) and s'mores ingredients, whereas a year ago those things were just everyday items.
Now I have to sidetrack about s'mores. When we brought the marshmallows, Hershey's chocolate, and graham crackers back to Andong and shared them with my boyfriend's mother, she asked if they were expensive. I laughed, then realized that this simple food I think of as a cheap, fun part of a normal summer or autumn was a novelty to my boyfriend and his mother. Actually, my boyfriend loves s'mores, and his mother likes them, but his little brother hates them. I never imagined someone not liking s'mores, except one of my best friends, Anna, who abhors chocolate. Still, I'm sure she likes marshmallows and graham crackers. There was so much ado about s'mores in the apartment, it made me understand how I'm perceived here sometimes. In Ulsan, we walked by a cart/booth/kiosk (very common in Korea) where a man was selling fish. But it wasn't fish- it was bread shaped like fish. I was thinking, "it's shaped like a fish, so it must be fish-flavored." I've never been a fan of fish, so I was very reluctant to try it until I was informed that it had nothing to do with seafood. My dad bought one for each of us, and as soon as I bit into it apprehensively, I was elated. It was delicious! Hot, soft, sweet bread with soft red (sweet) beans inside. I love soft food, and I love sweet flavors. It was absolutely savory, and even as I'm writing this now, I'm craving another. And how clever- bread shaped like a fish! I've seen ice cream shaped like a fish, but that was the first fish-shaped bread I tasted. My boyfriend was so amused. That food is a traditional autumn food in Korea, and each one costs 1000 won, which with the exchange rate the way it is is less than $1. It's just like s'mores for my boyfriend and his mother.
After lunch in Ulsan, we walked around, alternating tour-guide roles. My father has been to Ulsan maybe five times now on business trips, and always stays in the same hotel. Like me, he's an explorer, taking the first opportunity in a new place to walk around and get the lay of the land, so he knew a bit about the area. My boyfriend is Korean, as you all know by know, so he knows more about Korea than my father and I do, and is obviously fluent in Korean. I'm between worlds; at this point I know a lot about Korea (not nearly half, I'm sure, but a lot), and I have an American perspective, so I knew what things about Korea would be the most novel for my father, and could draw interesting similarities and contrasts between cultures, much like I try to do here in my blog.
In terms of language, my boyfriend can understand the gist of English conversation better than I can understand Korean conversation, because his English vocabulary is larger than my Korean vocabulary. But, I still had to do some translating. However, as I just mentioned, my Korean vocabulary is somewhat lacking. So what I did was translate from English to couple-ish. That's my new name for the English, Korean, Konglish (Korean directly translated into English), and Youngeul (my name for the reverse of Konglish) that my boyfriend and I mix together into our own language. My boyfriend does the same (Korean -> couple-ish) for me when we talk to Koreans or watch TV.
Speaking Korean, around my father was really strange. When I left America, I had one semester of Korean class behind me, so I could read and write and say simple present-tense sentences. Now I'm using more complicated grammar structures by habit, and my vocabulary of everyday words has expanded to an almost fluent level. So, to the untrained ear, it can sound like I'm fluent in Korean even though I sound like a child to Koreans. Where I'm going with this is that Here I am in Korea, chatting away in Korean with my Korean boyfriend and then shifting to English with my American father in America-wait no- still in Korea!
Anyway, I have a lot of things to take care of, so I will write more later, as always. I hope this satisfied curiosity for a while. :)
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Family in Korea
I'm moving to the countryside this weekend. My boyfriend's mother lives in 안동 (Andong), which is about four hours away from Seoul by bus or train. You might remember from an earlier post that my boyfriend and I visited there together a while ago. We will move there together this Saturday. In the next couple of weeks, we'll figure out how to get him on the same planes as I am to America on Christmas Day.
My father will be in 울산 (Ulsan) this weekend on business. You might remember from an even earlier post that I have a couple of friends there and went to visit them for a weekend over the summer. It works out quite nicely so that my boyfriend and I can go there Saturday night or Sunday and see my father and my friends Reza and 성동 (Sungdong). We'll be a bit tired after this busy weekend, but we can take some down time after moving in to rest.
So there's the cold version of my moving and seeing my father this weekend.
Here are my thoughts about it.
I won't have to pay rent, just earn enough to pay off the credit card balance my Japan trip racked up and to grocery shop and travel a little bit. My boyfriend will also be working. That means I don't have to worry about rent for a whole two months. I love that. It's so stressful working and studying and always traveling here and there to meet friends and students. Also, one big stress in my relationship with my boyfriend has been that we both wake around noonish (me usually even later) and work in the evenings, and we live an hour and a half away from each other. Somehow we still manage to see each other every weekend and usually once or twice during the week, but the difficulty of organizing our lives takes its toll. In Andong, even if we work our butts off, we will come home to each other. We can cook together, watch TV before bed together, even clean together. I really love him. People are starting to ask if we're getting married (Korean society is more conservative than American society) and it doesn't freak me out. I just say, "I hope so, much later."
Anyway, I'm terrible at living alone. I love the freedom, but at the same time I loathe it.
I love that I can eat anything I want anytime I want to, but I hate eating alone and I'll never cook delicious, healthy food for myself. I live mostly on ramen, 삼각김밥 (convenience store triangle sushi rolls), and egg fried rice unless I go out. Living with someone else encourages me to have a normal eating and sleeping schedule. Also, because my boyfriend and I both enjoy cooking, we can rotate meals and have motivation to make more and more delicious food.
I love that I don't have to study or do my homework, but I hate that it's so easy to forget about my online courses that I'm falling dreadfully behind. I hate myself for it, but as usual, I'm much better at wasting my time doing nothing and feeling busy anyway than I am at studying. I think I'm allergic to studying. My boyfriend has promised to make me study, and even to "take" my classes with me, like Physics, my worst subject. When I lived with other students, seeing them study made me feel guilty for not studying and I got my homework done and went to class for the most part. Living with my mother was even more conducive to study because she's got the motherly nagging thing down. I guess I never thanked her for that. Thank you. :) Another problem now is that online classes don't feel real to me, whereas sitting in a classroom however many times a week makes me feel like they're obligatory and therefore I'm more likely to complete assignments because I'm accountable to a real person. Basically, I need to be held accountable to study. Messed up, I know. I just prefer learning via the sponge method to making a conscious effort. I also learn better that way, anyway. For instance, I've learned Korean much faster by making friends and living in Korea, although I don't really actively study aside from curiosity, than I did taking a class which I mostly ignored. I willingly admit that this is a mental problem I have, and that I'm not fighting it as actively as I could be. Although I know my procrastination and detachment is a completely ridiculous issue that exists only in my head and that I could change it if I tried. But on the other hand, I can't seem to find a way to light that fire under my own ass and get my life in gear. I'm lazy and a hard worker at the same time, but my priorities are not in order. Living with someone else, especially someone who loves me and cares about my future and is willing to push me toward it, helps me get my life in order.
I love that I can watch whatever I want on TV without thinking about what anyone else may or may not like. I hate that the TV is my only friend. It's lonely. Even if I talk to five people on MSN while the TV is running so there are voices in my room; even if I think about the fact that almost 100 people also live in 2m x 2m rooms on my floor... I'm so lonely living alone. I'll gladly give up my freedom of TV programming in order to have a warm body on the couch next to me. Especially if that person I'm sharing the couch with is cuddly and lovable.
Anyway, about seeing my dad... it's strange. Now my two worlds are colliding. My Korean friends whom I happened to become friends with in America and also met in Korea don't constitute a collision of worlds in my head because they've always been associated with Korea. My father is rooted and anchored in America. The only time I've seen him in another country, although he goes on many international business trips, was when we went on a family trip to Germany and England about 15 years ago. Being in Korea, I've left America in a corner and concentrated on my life here, my new start. But I only have two and a half months left before returning to America for six months. It's really helping to pound that reality back into my head. I'm on cloud nine, but I have to find a balance between that and the real world. And, I have less than a year to choose a country, a career, allegiances, direction, etc.. I'm pretty sure I want to stay in Korea, but for how long? What comes next? I could imagine myself living in either Korea or America, but having them collide makes it more clear that they are separate by nature and that I can only have one at a time.
Thinking way far ahead, I would prefer that my children grow up in American schools, because the Korean educational system has issues I've already discussed in terms of the extracurricular network of academies Korean children are expected to spend all of their spare time in. Also, attending English-speaking schools will increase their chances in global job markets, because Korean is not a global language. But, at the same time, I want my children to have Korean culture and to love Korea. This is, of course, assuming I marry a Korean man, perhaps even my current boyfriend. Another important factor concerning my future children is that I obviously have wanderlust, which is either genetic or a result of moving so many times during my childhood. I think it is both a gift and a curse. I want my children to have a concrete idea of a place they can call home, but at the same time I don't want them to be so anchored to home that they can't break free and find their own paths. At what point to I ignore my wanderlust so that I don't damage my children's lives? To what extent to I follow it so that I instill cultural acceptance, social skills, and independence in them? Being forced to start over in a new school is a painful but rewarding process. How do I know how much is too much? Why am I worrying about children when I don't even know where I'll live and what I'll be doing next year? Am I growing up? Haha.
My father will be in 울산 (Ulsan) this weekend on business. You might remember from an even earlier post that I have a couple of friends there and went to visit them for a weekend over the summer. It works out quite nicely so that my boyfriend and I can go there Saturday night or Sunday and see my father and my friends Reza and 성동 (Sungdong). We'll be a bit tired after this busy weekend, but we can take some down time after moving in to rest.
So there's the cold version of my moving and seeing my father this weekend.
Here are my thoughts about it.
I won't have to pay rent, just earn enough to pay off the credit card balance my Japan trip racked up and to grocery shop and travel a little bit. My boyfriend will also be working. That means I don't have to worry about rent for a whole two months. I love that. It's so stressful working and studying and always traveling here and there to meet friends and students. Also, one big stress in my relationship with my boyfriend has been that we both wake around noonish (me usually even later) and work in the evenings, and we live an hour and a half away from each other. Somehow we still manage to see each other every weekend and usually once or twice during the week, but the difficulty of organizing our lives takes its toll. In Andong, even if we work our butts off, we will come home to each other. We can cook together, watch TV before bed together, even clean together. I really love him. People are starting to ask if we're getting married (Korean society is more conservative than American society) and it doesn't freak me out. I just say, "I hope so, much later."
Anyway, I'm terrible at living alone. I love the freedom, but at the same time I loathe it.
I love that I can eat anything I want anytime I want to, but I hate eating alone and I'll never cook delicious, healthy food for myself. I live mostly on ramen, 삼각김밥 (convenience store triangle sushi rolls), and egg fried rice unless I go out. Living with someone else encourages me to have a normal eating and sleeping schedule. Also, because my boyfriend and I both enjoy cooking, we can rotate meals and have motivation to make more and more delicious food.
I love that I don't have to study or do my homework, but I hate that it's so easy to forget about my online courses that I'm falling dreadfully behind. I hate myself for it, but as usual, I'm much better at wasting my time doing nothing and feeling busy anyway than I am at studying. I think I'm allergic to studying. My boyfriend has promised to make me study, and even to "take" my classes with me, like Physics, my worst subject. When I lived with other students, seeing them study made me feel guilty for not studying and I got my homework done and went to class for the most part. Living with my mother was even more conducive to study because she's got the motherly nagging thing down. I guess I never thanked her for that. Thank you. :) Another problem now is that online classes don't feel real to me, whereas sitting in a classroom however many times a week makes me feel like they're obligatory and therefore I'm more likely to complete assignments because I'm accountable to a real person. Basically, I need to be held accountable to study. Messed up, I know. I just prefer learning via the sponge method to making a conscious effort. I also learn better that way, anyway. For instance, I've learned Korean much faster by making friends and living in Korea, although I don't really actively study aside from curiosity, than I did taking a class which I mostly ignored. I willingly admit that this is a mental problem I have, and that I'm not fighting it as actively as I could be. Although I know my procrastination and detachment is a completely ridiculous issue that exists only in my head and that I could change it if I tried. But on the other hand, I can't seem to find a way to light that fire under my own ass and get my life in gear. I'm lazy and a hard worker at the same time, but my priorities are not in order. Living with someone else, especially someone who loves me and cares about my future and is willing to push me toward it, helps me get my life in order.
I love that I can watch whatever I want on TV without thinking about what anyone else may or may not like. I hate that the TV is my only friend. It's lonely. Even if I talk to five people on MSN while the TV is running so there are voices in my room; even if I think about the fact that almost 100 people also live in 2m x 2m rooms on my floor... I'm so lonely living alone. I'll gladly give up my freedom of TV programming in order to have a warm body on the couch next to me. Especially if that person I'm sharing the couch with is cuddly and lovable.
Anyway, about seeing my dad... it's strange. Now my two worlds are colliding. My Korean friends whom I happened to become friends with in America and also met in Korea don't constitute a collision of worlds in my head because they've always been associated with Korea. My father is rooted and anchored in America. The only time I've seen him in another country, although he goes on many international business trips, was when we went on a family trip to Germany and England about 15 years ago. Being in Korea, I've left America in a corner and concentrated on my life here, my new start. But I only have two and a half months left before returning to America for six months. It's really helping to pound that reality back into my head. I'm on cloud nine, but I have to find a balance between that and the real world. And, I have less than a year to choose a country, a career, allegiances, direction, etc.. I'm pretty sure I want to stay in Korea, but for how long? What comes next? I could imagine myself living in either Korea or America, but having them collide makes it more clear that they are separate by nature and that I can only have one at a time.
Thinking way far ahead, I would prefer that my children grow up in American schools, because the Korean educational system has issues I've already discussed in terms of the extracurricular network of academies Korean children are expected to spend all of their spare time in. Also, attending English-speaking schools will increase their chances in global job markets, because Korean is not a global language. But, at the same time, I want my children to have Korean culture and to love Korea. This is, of course, assuming I marry a Korean man, perhaps even my current boyfriend. Another important factor concerning my future children is that I obviously have wanderlust, which is either genetic or a result of moving so many times during my childhood. I think it is both a gift and a curse. I want my children to have a concrete idea of a place they can call home, but at the same time I don't want them to be so anchored to home that they can't break free and find their own paths. At what point to I ignore my wanderlust so that I don't damage my children's lives? To what extent to I follow it so that I instill cultural acceptance, social skills, and independence in them? Being forced to start over in a new school is a painful but rewarding process. How do I know how much is too much? Why am I worrying about children when I don't even know where I'll live and what I'll be doing next year? Am I growing up? Haha.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Japan Trip #2 and More
Because my multiple-entry C-3 Korean visa allows me to stay in Korea for 90 days after each entry, I had to leave for the second time last week. I lined up the 90 days perfectly so I left the day my visa expired and will leave again the day it expires, December 25 Christmas Day. That meant I was in Fukuoka from Tuesday September 22 to Saturday the 26th. The 27th marked exactly 6 months that I've lived in Korea. Half a year!!
Anyway, I didn't have much money, and I went to Japan alone, and I find Japan rather creepy, so I mostly stayed in my room eating convenience store food, reading textbooks, and watching Korean movies on my computer. I also find Japan frustrating because while I can understand more Japanese than I can Korean, I've been in Korea so long that I think in Korean and can't remember Japanese vocabulary when I'm trying to speak. Also, I can't read Japanese well because they use so many kanji, Chinese symbols. In Korea, I can read just fine. I'm a little slow, and I often don't know the meaning, but I can look up the words in my cell phone's English-Korean dictionary. Anyway, I accidentally spoke Korean to a few people, then corrected myself in Japanese, then asked if they could speak English or French.... it was pretty ridiculous.
Just after I checked into my hotel room, I asked the front desk if they had power converters for American or Korean plugs. They didn't. I asked where I could buy them, and was given a map and directions to a store. I went there, but I felt like I had gone too far and was getting lost. It was dark, although not very late, and everything was unfamiliar. All of the people looked different... I'm used to Koreans now, and I'm used to Americans and the American mix of ethnicities, but Japanese people look different and are, on average, significantly shorter. In Korea, I'm still shorter than the average man if I don't wear high heels. In Japan, I think I might be taller than the average man! When I finally got to the store, there were so many signs and arrows and people and everything was Japanese. I was so lost. I asked the information counter, showing my laptop charger and converter for Korean outlets, and used what Japanese I could throw together. She directed me to the second floor, where I found one for my American computer, but not one for my Korean cell phone. So I asked an associate, who walked with me to the third floor and asked someone else, who led us to the right section. Eventually there were three guys who worked there all trying to understand that I wanted a converter for BOTH American AND Korean plugs because I'm from America but I live in Korea so I have something important to plug in from each country. Finally, after about 15 minutes, one of them presented me with a converter for my three-pronged computer plug and my Korean plug- both in one! It's great, because I was expecting to have to buy two different ones. I was very happy that despite the language barrier, I ended up with something better than I expected. As I paid, the cashier apologized profusely and thanked me way too much. I know this is just Japanese culture, but I'm almost offended by the excessive apologetic atmosphere in Japan, as if the people are patronizing and self-depreciating at the same time. If the same situation occurred in Korea, the worker would apologize once- maybe twice- for taking so long, thank me for buying something, and ask me to come again. Same as in America. I guess I have a culture bias that favors Korean culture based on the things I like about American culture.
Let me elaborate on that whole culture bias thing. In America, being white from some unknown mix of European countries and either Native American or gypsy, I always thought I had no culture. My friends whose parents or grandparents came from other countries had culture: Chinese, Egyptian, Korean, German, Italian, etc. My African American friends had culture. My half African American, half German friend hit the culture jackpot (I love you E.B. haha)! So how is it that I can recognize in myself a culture bias when I am devoid of culture? Well, I'm like a goldfish in a tank with many other goldfish and a few different exotic fish. I can see that the exotic fish are different, but I never think about the water I'm in or about the other goldfish as being distinctive. Now I'm the goldfish in a bowl full of one kind of "exotic" fish. Who's exotic now? I'm still figuring out just what it means to me to be a goldfish, and at the same time, I'm changing my scales a bit to adjust to my new surroundings. Why do I like Korean fish better than Japanese fish? That's complicated.
In American culture, people are often very bubbly and friendly to strangers, which sometimes even puts foreigners on edge. Japanese are not at all bubbly and friendly to strangers; instead, they are distant, polite, and cordial. An American will tell you more than you ever need to know about their life if you happen to be sitting next to him/her on a plane. A Japanese person will tell you the basic facts and then get back to his/her book or newspaper. Koreans are in the middle. While Americans can be a little rude, and Japanese cold, Koreans are genuinely kind, or just too shy to say anything at all. Of course, these are generalizations, and therefore only apply to maybe 60-80% of people from each country, and I have by no means met everyone from each country. Even within each country, people vary according to regional culture. San Fransisco, Detroit, New Orleans, and Washington D.C. are all vastly different, for instance.
In American culture, everyone pays equally for everything. If two friends go out together, they either split the check or one person pays and the other person owes him/her the same thing later. In America, I always had to remember how much I owed this friend, how much that friend owed me, etc. It's very confusing and stressful. In Korea, the older person pays. Or, the person with more money. That's it. Now, the younger generation is embracing the idea of "Dutch pay" so groups of friends often split the price to alleviate the burden on one person. Or, one person buys dinner and another pays for drinks at the bar and another pays for a singing room, because you don't just do one thing when you hang out in Korea. I don't know the custom in Japan, but I like the one in Korea. Partly because I'm just about the youngest of my friends, and partly because it just makes sense. Right now, I'm still a college student and can't get my career off the ground until I graduate. Therefore, I don't have the opportunity to make a lot of money. A year or two from now, I'll have a stable job, a stable income, and a home, and I'll have more money to spare to buy dinner for my younger friends. I love when people buy things for me, and I love buying things for people. It's the Christmas effect. I know that when someone pays for me, they enjoy the smile on my face, and when I pay for someone else, I enjoy the smile on his or her face.
In America, we drive on the right side of the road. Korea, too. In Japan, it's the left side. So confusing to me when crossing the street. I guess in that respect, British people would prefer Japan.
In America and Japan, signs, commercials, and other everyday parts of the man-made environment are usually in the no-funny-business style. Simple, block print. Easy to read, mildly eye-catching, professional. Here, "under construction" signs have adorable pictures of construction workers who look like children. Restaurants often have cute illustrations of smiling pigs or fish on their signs. Part-time working girls in cute outfits do silly dances on stages on the sidewalk to attract customers. My boyfriend wars socks with cartoon depictions of G-Dragon (a popular singer), Jack Skeleton, and 윤지후 (Yoon Ji-hoo) from 꽃보다남자 (Boys before Flowers, my favorite popular Korean drama) and that's totally not gay here. T-shirts are cuter, the text on signs is adorable, the commercial jingles are catchier in a cute way, even office supplies and decorations in legitimately professional institutions are often cute. Korea is so cute, it makes me smile every day. Japan and America are mildly depressing in their efforts to look more professional than the competition.
Just a personal preference: I like the voices and melodies of Korean pop better than any other country's pop I've heard. Of course, I love 70% of music, and couldn't live without listening to and playing music on a regular basis, so that's not really a huge factor in why I prefer Korea.
Because of the devastation following the brutal Japanese occupation of Korea from 1910-1946 (Japan was forced to relinquish Korea after being defeated in WWII) and the exhausting Korean war (which never technically ended, resulting in the shaky situation surrounding the DMZ or JSA) from 1950 to the armistice in 1953, almost everything in Korea was built in the past 50ish years. On top of that, Korea has a very trend-based society, valuing the newest and rejecting the oldest (unless it's the historically meaningful brand of old). So, the buildings are quite modern and clean, usually white or light gray or completely walled by windows. The main streets are wide, as well as the newer subway stations. Japan, on the other hand, seems to me to be in the American 70's style of dark colors, although there is an interesting mix of architecture styles because of the naturally occurring replacement of dilapidated buildings with modern ones, and because of the inevitable localization of wealth in certain areas. Because most of the infrastructure was established before the advent of cars, the streets are narrower, and the older subway system has smaller stations because as technology advances, wider holes in the ground are possible. I personally follow in my mother's footsteps in appreciating open spaces and bright colors. Japan just feels ominous and eerie to me.
Actually, when I'm in Japan, I feel just as lost and confused and 답답해 (tapdaphae; no real English translation, but usually translated as 'stuffy' or 'anxious') as I did when I first arrived in Korea over sis months ago. The difference is that I lack passion for Japan, whereas I'm in no short supply of passion for Korea. I can see how another American could easily have the exact opposite opinion of the two countries as I do. Japan has a rich variety of, well, everything. Korea has variety, but has fewer cultural collective outliers than Japan and America do. Most people like the same music, as opposed to the constant battle of the genres in America (I must mention that there are distinctive genres in Korean pop, but most Koreans like all of them that are suitable for their age group). Most people like the same general types of food and can't live without kimchi and rice. Most people follow the same general fashion trends. If you want to stand out in Korea, it's not a hard thing to do. I dare you to go to Harajuku in Tokyo and try to stand out. If you aren't familiar with Harajuku, Google "Harajuku fashion" and click "images" for an idea.
Anyway, aspects of Korean and American culture are the same. Some things I don't like about American culture aren't as pronounced here, like overly aggressive men, lone-wolf valorization, impossibility of bargaining in most circumstances, and P.C. (politically correct) fever. Some things I do like about American culture are stronger here, like friendly customer service (it's also FAST in Korea!), being able to ask any stranger for directions without fear, curiosity, and lenience. If you stay past check-out in a hotel in Korea, they call the room and ask you nicely to leave, but they don't charge you extra.
Of course, there are things I don't like about Korea. Koreans usually don't have ovens or dryers, which are generally assumed indispensable in American homes. The Korean language has three levels of formality, and knowing when in a relationship to switch from the "normal" language to 반말 (banmal; informal language used for close friends and younger people) is confusing, and I don't think I'll ever become comfortable with that. The grammar used in the most formal language is so difficult that I just decide not to use it, but at this point I can understand it as well as the other forms. Considering that I'm a foreigner and have been living here only 6 months, people are satisfied with the level of formality I use in my speech and text messages. I have my whole life to master the language, so I'm not too stressed about that point.
The Korean education system is frustrating and unfair for the children. Because government employees can't be fired, including public school teachers, there is no competition among public schools and they come up short of satisfactory for most Korean parents. Therefore, those who can afford it go to private academies after school and study to exhaustion starting in elementary school. Thus, those who can't afford private academies have an inferior education and are less likely to break out of poverty, much like the issue of inner city school districts vs. suburban school districts in America. In Korea, no child wins. Also, the Korean (generally, the Asian) education system trains people to be machines by testing them all in the same tasks and rewarding empirical excellency. Put in anecdotal simplicity, imagine a 30-student class reads a novel and is assigned a three-page paper. In America, this paper would most likely have a topic including the words "analyze", "think about", "compare", or "draw from your own experiences". The teacher expects 30 completely different papers, and suspects plagiarism if two are too similar. In Korea, the paper assignment may be a summary or a specific research assignment into the history or author of the novel. The teacher expects 30 almost identical papers and punishes papers that are different by subtracting points for incorrectly completing the assignment. This is good and bad. It is the reason for the American stereotype that Asians are human calculators and encyclopedias, like perfect robots with whom nobody can compete. It also robs Korea from out-of-the box innovation. Korean companies have been accused of copying foreign designs and concepts, whereas the companies themselves probably intend to follow the trend and make it empirically better. Nobody can deny the global success of Korean companies like Hyundai, LG, and Kia. Nobody can deny the perfect, even haunting musical technique of many Asian musicians. But, how many Asian composers are praised for their originality? Although, that particular topic is a whole thesis, book, encyclopedia of volumes including the difference in how different cultures perceive intellectual property rights or lack thereof.
In other news, My boyfriend and I are probably moving from Seoul to Andong, a "countryside" city (compared to where I lived in America, every city here is a big city) next weekend. His mother lives there, so he has asked her to let us live with her, and she's thinking about it now. Then, on Christmas, we will fly together to America and stay there for 6 months. Again, this depends on his mother's decision because she would be funding his plane ticket. Assuming we're still together after that (I think so), we'll come back to Korea next summer, perhaps permanently, perhaps not.
Anyway, I didn't have much money, and I went to Japan alone, and I find Japan rather creepy, so I mostly stayed in my room eating convenience store food, reading textbooks, and watching Korean movies on my computer. I also find Japan frustrating because while I can understand more Japanese than I can Korean, I've been in Korea so long that I think in Korean and can't remember Japanese vocabulary when I'm trying to speak. Also, I can't read Japanese well because they use so many kanji, Chinese symbols. In Korea, I can read just fine. I'm a little slow, and I often don't know the meaning, but I can look up the words in my cell phone's English-Korean dictionary. Anyway, I accidentally spoke Korean to a few people, then corrected myself in Japanese, then asked if they could speak English or French.... it was pretty ridiculous.
Just after I checked into my hotel room, I asked the front desk if they had power converters for American or Korean plugs. They didn't. I asked where I could buy them, and was given a map and directions to a store. I went there, but I felt like I had gone too far and was getting lost. It was dark, although not very late, and everything was unfamiliar. All of the people looked different... I'm used to Koreans now, and I'm used to Americans and the American mix of ethnicities, but Japanese people look different and are, on average, significantly shorter. In Korea, I'm still shorter than the average man if I don't wear high heels. In Japan, I think I might be taller than the average man! When I finally got to the store, there were so many signs and arrows and people and everything was Japanese. I was so lost. I asked the information counter, showing my laptop charger and converter for Korean outlets, and used what Japanese I could throw together. She directed me to the second floor, where I found one for my American computer, but not one for my Korean cell phone. So I asked an associate, who walked with me to the third floor and asked someone else, who led us to the right section. Eventually there were three guys who worked there all trying to understand that I wanted a converter for BOTH American AND Korean plugs because I'm from America but I live in Korea so I have something important to plug in from each country. Finally, after about 15 minutes, one of them presented me with a converter for my three-pronged computer plug and my Korean plug- both in one! It's great, because I was expecting to have to buy two different ones. I was very happy that despite the language barrier, I ended up with something better than I expected. As I paid, the cashier apologized profusely and thanked me way too much. I know this is just Japanese culture, but I'm almost offended by the excessive apologetic atmosphere in Japan, as if the people are patronizing and self-depreciating at the same time. If the same situation occurred in Korea, the worker would apologize once- maybe twice- for taking so long, thank me for buying something, and ask me to come again. Same as in America. I guess I have a culture bias that favors Korean culture based on the things I like about American culture.
Let me elaborate on that whole culture bias thing. In America, being white from some unknown mix of European countries and either Native American or gypsy, I always thought I had no culture. My friends whose parents or grandparents came from other countries had culture: Chinese, Egyptian, Korean, German, Italian, etc. My African American friends had culture. My half African American, half German friend hit the culture jackpot (I love you E.B. haha)! So how is it that I can recognize in myself a culture bias when I am devoid of culture? Well, I'm like a goldfish in a tank with many other goldfish and a few different exotic fish. I can see that the exotic fish are different, but I never think about the water I'm in or about the other goldfish as being distinctive. Now I'm the goldfish in a bowl full of one kind of "exotic" fish. Who's exotic now? I'm still figuring out just what it means to me to be a goldfish, and at the same time, I'm changing my scales a bit to adjust to my new surroundings. Why do I like Korean fish better than Japanese fish? That's complicated.
In American culture, people are often very bubbly and friendly to strangers, which sometimes even puts foreigners on edge. Japanese are not at all bubbly and friendly to strangers; instead, they are distant, polite, and cordial. An American will tell you more than you ever need to know about their life if you happen to be sitting next to him/her on a plane. A Japanese person will tell you the basic facts and then get back to his/her book or newspaper. Koreans are in the middle. While Americans can be a little rude, and Japanese cold, Koreans are genuinely kind, or just too shy to say anything at all. Of course, these are generalizations, and therefore only apply to maybe 60-80% of people from each country, and I have by no means met everyone from each country. Even within each country, people vary according to regional culture. San Fransisco, Detroit, New Orleans, and Washington D.C. are all vastly different, for instance.
In American culture, everyone pays equally for everything. If two friends go out together, they either split the check or one person pays and the other person owes him/her the same thing later. In America, I always had to remember how much I owed this friend, how much that friend owed me, etc. It's very confusing and stressful. In Korea, the older person pays. Or, the person with more money. That's it. Now, the younger generation is embracing the idea of "Dutch pay" so groups of friends often split the price to alleviate the burden on one person. Or, one person buys dinner and another pays for drinks at the bar and another pays for a singing room, because you don't just do one thing when you hang out in Korea. I don't know the custom in Japan, but I like the one in Korea. Partly because I'm just about the youngest of my friends, and partly because it just makes sense. Right now, I'm still a college student and can't get my career off the ground until I graduate. Therefore, I don't have the opportunity to make a lot of money. A year or two from now, I'll have a stable job, a stable income, and a home, and I'll have more money to spare to buy dinner for my younger friends. I love when people buy things for me, and I love buying things for people. It's the Christmas effect. I know that when someone pays for me, they enjoy the smile on my face, and when I pay for someone else, I enjoy the smile on his or her face.
In America, we drive on the right side of the road. Korea, too. In Japan, it's the left side. So confusing to me when crossing the street. I guess in that respect, British people would prefer Japan.
In America and Japan, signs, commercials, and other everyday parts of the man-made environment are usually in the no-funny-business style. Simple, block print. Easy to read, mildly eye-catching, professional. Here, "under construction" signs have adorable pictures of construction workers who look like children. Restaurants often have cute illustrations of smiling pigs or fish on their signs. Part-time working girls in cute outfits do silly dances on stages on the sidewalk to attract customers. My boyfriend wars socks with cartoon depictions of G-Dragon (a popular singer), Jack Skeleton, and 윤지후 (Yoon Ji-hoo) from 꽃보다남자 (Boys before Flowers, my favorite popular Korean drama) and that's totally not gay here. T-shirts are cuter, the text on signs is adorable, the commercial jingles are catchier in a cute way, even office supplies and decorations in legitimately professional institutions are often cute. Korea is so cute, it makes me smile every day. Japan and America are mildly depressing in their efforts to look more professional than the competition.
Just a personal preference: I like the voices and melodies of Korean pop better than any other country's pop I've heard. Of course, I love 70% of music, and couldn't live without listening to and playing music on a regular basis, so that's not really a huge factor in why I prefer Korea.
Because of the devastation following the brutal Japanese occupation of Korea from 1910-1946 (Japan was forced to relinquish Korea after being defeated in WWII) and the exhausting Korean war (which never technically ended, resulting in the shaky situation surrounding the DMZ or JSA) from 1950 to the armistice in 1953, almost everything in Korea was built in the past 50ish years. On top of that, Korea has a very trend-based society, valuing the newest and rejecting the oldest (unless it's the historically meaningful brand of old). So, the buildings are quite modern and clean, usually white or light gray or completely walled by windows. The main streets are wide, as well as the newer subway stations. Japan, on the other hand, seems to me to be in the American 70's style of dark colors, although there is an interesting mix of architecture styles because of the naturally occurring replacement of dilapidated buildings with modern ones, and because of the inevitable localization of wealth in certain areas. Because most of the infrastructure was established before the advent of cars, the streets are narrower, and the older subway system has smaller stations because as technology advances, wider holes in the ground are possible. I personally follow in my mother's footsteps in appreciating open spaces and bright colors. Japan just feels ominous and eerie to me.
Actually, when I'm in Japan, I feel just as lost and confused and 답답해 (tapdaphae; no real English translation, but usually translated as 'stuffy' or 'anxious') as I did when I first arrived in Korea over sis months ago. The difference is that I lack passion for Japan, whereas I'm in no short supply of passion for Korea. I can see how another American could easily have the exact opposite opinion of the two countries as I do. Japan has a rich variety of, well, everything. Korea has variety, but has fewer cultural collective outliers than Japan and America do. Most people like the same music, as opposed to the constant battle of the genres in America (I must mention that there are distinctive genres in Korean pop, but most Koreans like all of them that are suitable for their age group). Most people like the same general types of food and can't live without kimchi and rice. Most people follow the same general fashion trends. If you want to stand out in Korea, it's not a hard thing to do. I dare you to go to Harajuku in Tokyo and try to stand out. If you aren't familiar with Harajuku, Google "Harajuku fashion" and click "images" for an idea.
Anyway, aspects of Korean and American culture are the same. Some things I don't like about American culture aren't as pronounced here, like overly aggressive men, lone-wolf valorization, impossibility of bargaining in most circumstances, and P.C. (politically correct) fever. Some things I do like about American culture are stronger here, like friendly customer service (it's also FAST in Korea!), being able to ask any stranger for directions without fear, curiosity, and lenience. If you stay past check-out in a hotel in Korea, they call the room and ask you nicely to leave, but they don't charge you extra.
Of course, there are things I don't like about Korea. Koreans usually don't have ovens or dryers, which are generally assumed indispensable in American homes. The Korean language has three levels of formality, and knowing when in a relationship to switch from the "normal" language to 반말 (banmal; informal language used for close friends and younger people) is confusing, and I don't think I'll ever become comfortable with that. The grammar used in the most formal language is so difficult that I just decide not to use it, but at this point I can understand it as well as the other forms. Considering that I'm a foreigner and have been living here only 6 months, people are satisfied with the level of formality I use in my speech and text messages. I have my whole life to master the language, so I'm not too stressed about that point.
The Korean education system is frustrating and unfair for the children. Because government employees can't be fired, including public school teachers, there is no competition among public schools and they come up short of satisfactory for most Korean parents. Therefore, those who can afford it go to private academies after school and study to exhaustion starting in elementary school. Thus, those who can't afford private academies have an inferior education and are less likely to break out of poverty, much like the issue of inner city school districts vs. suburban school districts in America. In Korea, no child wins. Also, the Korean (generally, the Asian) education system trains people to be machines by testing them all in the same tasks and rewarding empirical excellency. Put in anecdotal simplicity, imagine a 30-student class reads a novel and is assigned a three-page paper. In America, this paper would most likely have a topic including the words "analyze", "think about", "compare", or "draw from your own experiences". The teacher expects 30 completely different papers, and suspects plagiarism if two are too similar. In Korea, the paper assignment may be a summary or a specific research assignment into the history or author of the novel. The teacher expects 30 almost identical papers and punishes papers that are different by subtracting points for incorrectly completing the assignment. This is good and bad. It is the reason for the American stereotype that Asians are human calculators and encyclopedias, like perfect robots with whom nobody can compete. It also robs Korea from out-of-the box innovation. Korean companies have been accused of copying foreign designs and concepts, whereas the companies themselves probably intend to follow the trend and make it empirically better. Nobody can deny the global success of Korean companies like Hyundai, LG, and Kia. Nobody can deny the perfect, even haunting musical technique of many Asian musicians. But, how many Asian composers are praised for their originality? Although, that particular topic is a whole thesis, book, encyclopedia of volumes including the difference in how different cultures perceive intellectual property rights or lack thereof.
In other news, My boyfriend and I are probably moving from Seoul to Andong, a "countryside" city (compared to where I lived in America, every city here is a big city) next weekend. His mother lives there, so he has asked her to let us live with her, and she's thinking about it now. Then, on Christmas, we will fly together to America and stay there for 6 months. Again, this depends on his mother's decision because she would be funding his plane ticket. Assuming we're still together after that (I think so), we'll come back to Korea next summer, perhaps permanently, perhaps not.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Homesick at Last
I had felt a little homesick before now and then, for instance, missing American treats like Slurpees or Taco Bell. Sometimes something reminds me of a friend or family member and I miss him or her, but that happened back in America, too. My extended family has never exactly been geographically close, and since going off to college I haven't spent much time at home. Also, my parents are divorced and the last two years before going to college I lived only with my mom. So, it's been about 5 years since I lived in the same house as my father, brother, or stepfamily.
What's interesting is that my homesick reinforces what I already knew: I don't have a geographical place that I call home. Another dimension has been added, too: my home consists of different points in time. I miss my different Christmases. Watching James Bond and frosting sugar cookies in unnecessarily elaborate ways with my mom and brother. My grandmother's last Christmas, with four generations in Illinois at my aunt's house. Hanging ornaments on the tree as a kid, making sure they were high enough that the cats wouldn't eat them. I miss my high school friends. Going to so many rock concerts I can't remember all of the bands we saw. Hanging out at Caribou Coffee after school. Sleepovers and memorizing lines of stupid movies like The Faculty and Zoolander. Coming up with creative birthday presents for each other and silly nicknames based on TV shows. I miss Michigan State University. Douglas J Aveda Institute haircuts are the best I've ever had and at such low prices. Menna's is enough food for two meals, but if you're still hungry you can get Pokey Sticks from Gumby's Pizza. I met all kinds of people from around the world in Japanese class, including one of my three best friends. I miss the fact that almost everything in America is in English. I miss that movie theaters show all the movies that are out at one time, instead of 3 or 4 per day. I miss Corn Day in Adel, Iowa in the summer and eating snow mixed with soda or pink lemonade in the winter. I miss driving manual transmission- I don't drive at all here. I miss walking in the rain with no umbrella; here I'm constantly warned of acid rain. I miss Meijer Grocery Store. I miss living in a space larger than 9 square feet and I miss having a window so I can keep my beloved plants. I miss having my own bathroom, because let's face it, everyone poops and it's not something you wanna share with 50 other people. I miss having a kitchen with a full spice cabinet and tons of dishes. I miss home, but I'm not really sure where or when that is. I have to settle down and start my own family before I have a clear idea of home again, I think. So, I'll be a lost wanderer for a few more years while I figure out where I'm meant to be.
My boyfriend is going to come to America with me. We're not really sure yet how we're gonna make it work, but we will somehow. Learning English will be faster and easier if he's in America, and the language barrier is a big stress in out relationship. And, we don't want to be separated for six months. One month is bearable, but six months is unthinkable. Also, it will bring us closer if he can see where I'm from, like I've seen where he's from. I've met most of his family and been to his hometown. I want him to meet my family, too, and to see where I grew up. That will require a lot of road trips, but I want him to experience an American road trip, too.
What's interesting is that my homesick reinforces what I already knew: I don't have a geographical place that I call home. Another dimension has been added, too: my home consists of different points in time. I miss my different Christmases. Watching James Bond and frosting sugar cookies in unnecessarily elaborate ways with my mom and brother. My grandmother's last Christmas, with four generations in Illinois at my aunt's house. Hanging ornaments on the tree as a kid, making sure they were high enough that the cats wouldn't eat them. I miss my high school friends. Going to so many rock concerts I can't remember all of the bands we saw. Hanging out at Caribou Coffee after school. Sleepovers and memorizing lines of stupid movies like The Faculty and Zoolander. Coming up with creative birthday presents for each other and silly nicknames based on TV shows. I miss Michigan State University. Douglas J Aveda Institute haircuts are the best I've ever had and at such low prices. Menna's is enough food for two meals, but if you're still hungry you can get Pokey Sticks from Gumby's Pizza. I met all kinds of people from around the world in Japanese class, including one of my three best friends. I miss the fact that almost everything in America is in English. I miss that movie theaters show all the movies that are out at one time, instead of 3 or 4 per day. I miss Corn Day in Adel, Iowa in the summer and eating snow mixed with soda or pink lemonade in the winter. I miss driving manual transmission- I don't drive at all here. I miss walking in the rain with no umbrella; here I'm constantly warned of acid rain. I miss Meijer Grocery Store. I miss living in a space larger than 9 square feet and I miss having a window so I can keep my beloved plants. I miss having my own bathroom, because let's face it, everyone poops and it's not something you wanna share with 50 other people. I miss having a kitchen with a full spice cabinet and tons of dishes. I miss home, but I'm not really sure where or when that is. I have to settle down and start my own family before I have a clear idea of home again, I think. So, I'll be a lost wanderer for a few more years while I figure out where I'm meant to be.
My boyfriend is going to come to America with me. We're not really sure yet how we're gonna make it work, but we will somehow. Learning English will be faster and easier if he's in America, and the language barrier is a big stress in out relationship. And, we don't want to be separated for six months. One month is bearable, but six months is unthinkable. Also, it will bring us closer if he can see where I'm from, like I've seen where he's from. I've met most of his family and been to his hometown. I want him to meet my family, too, and to see where I grew up. That will require a lot of road trips, but I want him to experience an American road trip, too.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Falling Into Place
Between the time I made the last post and now, I was able to enroll in another class, bringing me to a full-time student load of 12 credits rather than the original 16 I had before that fiasco. I got the problem with my classes showing up on the website fixed, found out what textbooks I need, and ordered them. It is now 8am, I'm done freaking out, and I'm going to do some laundry and take a shower. Not to mention I'm going to take a few deep breaths and try to stop hating my beloved Michigan State University.
School Frustrations and Big Decisions
I finally had it worked out. I was changing my major to International Studies and Psychology instead of Asian Studies and Psychology, and I was registered for 16 credits of online courses for the fall. I was so caught up in making that work and living my life that I forgot to tell my parents about the tuition deadline. Well, it passed, and I was disenrolled. I was told that I need to re-register, a new bill would be sent out, and everything would be fine. Well I tried, but two of the classes I was in are now full so I have 10 credits; not a full time student load. I emailed the professors for overrides, but they won't give them to me. On top of that, I can't access any of my courses, so although I'm enrolled I can't actually see my classes. I don't know what textbooks I need and it takes a long time and a lot of money to get them to Korea. So I have too few credits, no other choices, no time, no books, and I can't see my classes! What the hell is going on here?!? I have spent so many late nights making this work and it's all falling apart. If I drop out of school I have no future and student loans to pay back that I don't have the money for. I'm stuck with no choice but to attend school and no way to do so. Where do I go from here???????!!!!!!
I felt better a few days after my last post, and then all of these school problems fell on me, so I fell even harder. On top of that, I got really sick again. I was vomiting, had a fever and diarrhea, I hurt from my head to my toes, and had no energy. My boyfriend came all the way from his home across the city (2 hours) to take me to the hospital (hospitals here are somewhere between a hospital and a family practitioner). Apparently it was a flu, and although the chances of it being H1N1 were almost nonexistent, the doctor told me to stay home for one week. No work, no seeing friends, nothing. Well, I felt mostly better the next day but I had already told everyone I couldn't go out for a week. It was probably another case of food poisoning, but just in case I'm taking the week off anyway. I need a rest because of all this stress. I was so relieved when I finally had all of my classes worked out, and then...... back to square one.
I have a plane ticket back to Detroit for December 25, 2009. I was planning to return to Korea in January, but if my last semester of school will be as stressful as this one online, maybe I should just suck it up and return to East Lansing for four months. I could live in Owen Hall, where the rooms I once thought were so small are more than twice the size of where I live now. I could keep tutoring English, and many Koreans and other international students live in Owen Hall, so I could avoid all of the traveling from student to student that caused me so much stress last year and causes me some stress now. Also, with my Korean language skills I would be more of a commodity and could charge higher rates. After living in/around Seoul for almost half a year, I'm used to public transportation and walking long distances, so by living on campus I wouldn't feel the need for a car. I do miss some of the places around Michigan State University. Bubble Island, Taco Bell, Udon Sushi, the Red Cedar River, Gumby's Pizza, etc.. I miss my friends, too. And, living in Owen Hall, I could keep using Korean as much as I wanted, and there is a piano so I could still practice and compose music.
That's about four months away. Four months is forever; four months is the blink of an eye; four months can and has changed everything. I have a life in Korea. I have friends, I have a boyfriend whom I love, and I have confidence. I feel like I belong here. Maybe four months in Michigan would tell me if Korea is my home. Four months in Michigan, one month in Missouri with my grandfather, maybe some time in Iowa with my other grandparents, and if my brother moves to California, some time there. Six months in America. Five months in Korea has told me that nowhere in America is my home because I don't long for it at all. Will six months in America after nine months in Korea make me long for it? When I decided to leave America, I couldn't wait to leave. Now that I'm deciding to go back to America, I'm dreading that day. One thing that I've discovered about myself through all of this is that I'm impulsive in following my heart, but I'm also measured when it comes to following through. In weighing the stress of completing school while living in Korea vs. completing one last semester in America, I can swallow my pride and admit my defeat. I have to go back to East Lansing for the Spring semester.
I think I've already found the direction I was looking for in coming here. As I mentioned before, there's a unique business that I want to open here. I won't tell you what because I don't want anyone stealing my idea, but I think I'm uniquely suited for it, and I have a passion for it. After a few years, I want to marry a Korean guy and have adorable mixed children who speak Korean and English, and I want to raise them in Korea where it's safe and they will have a culture they can be proud of. I want to speak Korean like a native and write songs in Korean and sing them while playing piano for my friends and family. I want to live on my own schedule so I can wake up in the afternoons and work hard late at night and into the early morning, like my body is comfortable with. I want to inspire people and be inspired by them, and I feel like I have a purpose when I'm in Korea. In America, I'm lost- a nameless face in a crowd of other lost people. I like just about everything about Korea better. The food tastes better. The music is better. The fashion is better. The average person is nicer. It's safer. The environment just fits me better. I know my father hates coming to Korea, and I'm sure my mother and brother would, too. Most of my non-Korean friends would think Kore is cool and interesting as an exotic place to visit a friend, but would never imagine living here.
I will view returning to America not as a defeat, but a test of my conviction. If I still have the same dream when I'm on the other side of the world, then I know that these nine months here are only the beginning. If I find some other path, I'll know that coming to Korea was 100% worth it anyway.
I'll keep working out this semester online (probably ending with bad grades), and register for courses on-campus for the Spring semester (hopefully ending with good grades for the first time since Spring 2007). I'm sorry to everyone in Korea who expected me to come back in January, but you'll have to wait six months for me instead of one. I'm sorry to everyone in America, but I'm not coming back for you. I will be happy to see you, but I will leave again like I did in March. Everyone has their own place, and don't ask me why, but I think mine is here in Korea.
I felt better a few days after my last post, and then all of these school problems fell on me, so I fell even harder. On top of that, I got really sick again. I was vomiting, had a fever and diarrhea, I hurt from my head to my toes, and had no energy. My boyfriend came all the way from his home across the city (2 hours) to take me to the hospital (hospitals here are somewhere between a hospital and a family practitioner). Apparently it was a flu, and although the chances of it being H1N1 were almost nonexistent, the doctor told me to stay home for one week. No work, no seeing friends, nothing. Well, I felt mostly better the next day but I had already told everyone I couldn't go out for a week. It was probably another case of food poisoning, but just in case I'm taking the week off anyway. I need a rest because of all this stress. I was so relieved when I finally had all of my classes worked out, and then...... back to square one.
I have a plane ticket back to Detroit for December 25, 2009. I was planning to return to Korea in January, but if my last semester of school will be as stressful as this one online, maybe I should just suck it up and return to East Lansing for four months. I could live in Owen Hall, where the rooms I once thought were so small are more than twice the size of where I live now. I could keep tutoring English, and many Koreans and other international students live in Owen Hall, so I could avoid all of the traveling from student to student that caused me so much stress last year and causes me some stress now. Also, with my Korean language skills I would be more of a commodity and could charge higher rates. After living in/around Seoul for almost half a year, I'm used to public transportation and walking long distances, so by living on campus I wouldn't feel the need for a car. I do miss some of the places around Michigan State University. Bubble Island, Taco Bell, Udon Sushi, the Red Cedar River, Gumby's Pizza, etc.. I miss my friends, too. And, living in Owen Hall, I could keep using Korean as much as I wanted, and there is a piano so I could still practice and compose music.
That's about four months away. Four months is forever; four months is the blink of an eye; four months can and has changed everything. I have a life in Korea. I have friends, I have a boyfriend whom I love, and I have confidence. I feel like I belong here. Maybe four months in Michigan would tell me if Korea is my home. Four months in Michigan, one month in Missouri with my grandfather, maybe some time in Iowa with my other grandparents, and if my brother moves to California, some time there. Six months in America. Five months in Korea has told me that nowhere in America is my home because I don't long for it at all. Will six months in America after nine months in Korea make me long for it? When I decided to leave America, I couldn't wait to leave. Now that I'm deciding to go back to America, I'm dreading that day. One thing that I've discovered about myself through all of this is that I'm impulsive in following my heart, but I'm also measured when it comes to following through. In weighing the stress of completing school while living in Korea vs. completing one last semester in America, I can swallow my pride and admit my defeat. I have to go back to East Lansing for the Spring semester.
I think I've already found the direction I was looking for in coming here. As I mentioned before, there's a unique business that I want to open here. I won't tell you what because I don't want anyone stealing my idea, but I think I'm uniquely suited for it, and I have a passion for it. After a few years, I want to marry a Korean guy and have adorable mixed children who speak Korean and English, and I want to raise them in Korea where it's safe and they will have a culture they can be proud of. I want to speak Korean like a native and write songs in Korean and sing them while playing piano for my friends and family. I want to live on my own schedule so I can wake up in the afternoons and work hard late at night and into the early morning, like my body is comfortable with. I want to inspire people and be inspired by them, and I feel like I have a purpose when I'm in Korea. In America, I'm lost- a nameless face in a crowd of other lost people. I like just about everything about Korea better. The food tastes better. The music is better. The fashion is better. The average person is nicer. It's safer. The environment just fits me better. I know my father hates coming to Korea, and I'm sure my mother and brother would, too. Most of my non-Korean friends would think Kore is cool and interesting as an exotic place to visit a friend, but would never imagine living here.
I will view returning to America not as a defeat, but a test of my conviction. If I still have the same dream when I'm on the other side of the world, then I know that these nine months here are only the beginning. If I find some other path, I'll know that coming to Korea was 100% worth it anyway.
I'll keep working out this semester online (probably ending with bad grades), and register for courses on-campus for the Spring semester (hopefully ending with good grades for the first time since Spring 2007). I'm sorry to everyone in Korea who expected me to come back in January, but you'll have to wait six months for me instead of one. I'm sorry to everyone in America, but I'm not coming back for you. I will be happy to see you, but I will leave again like I did in March. Everyone has their own place, and don't ask me why, but I think mine is here in Korea.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Depression
Yes, folks. You knew it was coming. Nobody can move to the other side of the planet alone at 21 years old with no solid plan without hitting that solid wall of depression sooner or later.
I think a big part of it is that I live in a room the size of my mother's walk-in closet, maybe even smaller, with a window to the dark hallway. I share a bathroom and a kitchen with tons of strangers who looks at me like I'm some kind of exotic species, and I can't make much noise lest I disturb my neighbors in their 2 meter x 2 meter cells.
Another big part is that my life is going nowhere and I know it, but I don't know what the hell to do about it.
Another is the pressure from everyone.
Pressure from people in Korea: move closer to the place I usually work, move closer to my boyfriend, don't move. Moving is difficult for many reasons, like money, work, etc. but staying is even more difficult. When am I going back to America? Stay. Don't go. Stay. Stay in Korea.
Pressure from school: I must graduate, I must take certain classes, I must change my major (now it's a Bachelor of Science in International Studies and Psychology), I must get textbooks because classes start next Wednesday- when did it become September?
Pressure from home: I must keep in touch. I should move home. Am I failing in Korea yet? What am I really doing? Why not just go back home and everyone will be happy! Don't stay in Korea. Come home. What am I doing? What is the exciting life of Kristin like? Am I still alive? Helloooooo? Honestly, if I were dead, people would be informed. I do have my passport. Anyway I'm pretty sure Bundang is the safest place I've ever lived and life is actually pretty normal now. I have a daily routine and a social life, and when I feel the urge to spill my revelations onto the internet I do so for all to read. I never talked to anyone when I lived in America, and I haven't changed. I try to keep in touch a little more, chatting via this blog, letting everyone know what's up. Don't you know more about my life now than you have for the past 3 years?? I know I've been a distant daughter, friend, sister. It's just my nature. Only the things and people in front of my face feel real, and there are so many of them that it's difficult to reach out beyond them to the things and people not included in my daily life. I'm sorry, okay? It's just who I am, so please stop pressuring me because it's driving me insane.
Pressure from myself: Where is this amazing epitome I'm looking for? Where is the new start? It feels like the same thing with different scenery and characters. Like Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. I love it here so much, but why haven't I changed? I still forget about my responsibilities too much, I procrastinate, I back out of friendships when I get annoyed, I ignore the people who care about me, I sleep way too much and it affects my life in negative ways, I can't handle being alone, I need other people to admire me in order for me to admire myself. What has changed? Where is the new, stronger, Kristin? Why am I still like this? Didn't displacing myself completely light a fire under my ass to shape up and start acting like a responsible adult? I'm paying bills on time and being a nice person, but that's not enough. When is the magic moment when I don't need my mom to remind me to take care of things anymore? How do I make myself take care of myself? Why do I keep looking for someone to take care of me? Grow up already!!!!!!
Pressure from the lack of.... : I still have nowhere that really feels like home. I love my family but I've never felt like I belong in it. There is no geographical place that I'm attached to. I love my boyfriend but I'm terrified that this relationship could fall apart. Where am I even going with my life? Where will I be this time next year? Even if our relationship is still strong then, will I even be living in the same country? What kind of job will I have? I have a dream of starting a particularly unique business but I know absolutely nothing about business and I don't have the money or Korean citizen status or Korean language fluency necessary to start a business here even if I had the money, so where will I find a partner? Do I have enough passion for it? My future is a complete blank so I completely lack motivation to do anything. What goal am I reaching for? I'm headed in a direction, I know, and I'm working toward something, but it would help if I knew what the hell that something is!
I'm overwhelmed and under-supported. I don't mean that you all aren't supporting me enough. It's just that your support, while helpful, uplifting, and greatly appreciated and comforting, is not really tangible unless I'm sitting in front of my computer reading it. What about the other 23 hours a day? And the support of my friends in Korea is the same. When I'm not looking at their faces or reading their text messages or talking to them online it's not tangible. The support from my boyfriend is the strongest here, but he is only one man and he lives quite far away, so when I've needed him every day this week it's been physically impossible for him to be here for me. I've always been a very physical person, and things and people, as I said before, if they are not in front of me they are easily forgotten. Not in a malevolent way; it's just that I'm not good at remembering five bajillion things at the same time, and because my life is not very focused, there are always enough things going on immediately around me to push thoughts of the more distant things away. And, I'm only good at focusing on one thing at a time. So if I'm working, I'm only working. I am 100% there. And when it's over, it's over until the next time I work. When I'm with a friend, I am 100% with that friend. When I'm with my boyfriend, I'm 200% with him. When I'm not singularly occupied, thoughts explode in my head and I can't sort them all out. If there's too much to do, I do nothing because I'm overwhelmed and I can't make choices like where to start. If there's one thing to do, I will be more focused than most people ever can be. Basically, what I mean by under-supported is that I need so much more support from others than I should need, because I can't be my own supporter. I don't know how. And until I figure that out, I will always have this depression no matter where I run and no matter who I rely on and no matter what I do. To be my own supporter, I have to have more than the pride I hold in my talents. I have to have an outlet for those talents that I can be passionate about, and I have to see myself accomplishing something and constantly improving.
I am improving a lot. My Korean language skills, my patience (which I already had a lot of), my flexibility, my interpersonal skills, my radar for detecting people's intentions (i.e. if a guy wants to be my friend because he likes me, or if it's because he wants inappropriate things), my ability to laugh at myself, my knowledge about the way I think and assess the world, the fourth piano song I've been composing, etc.. I'm even gradually losing weight and gaining self-confidence, although like almost every person on earth, I am still very self-conscious.
But all of these things are a hodgepodge, a mess of random talents, personality traits, and insights. There's no focus, nothing to apply them to. Like the classes I'm taking just for the credits toward graduation. I feel like I'm killing time, that I don't even need school except for the stupid piece of paper that tells the rest of that world that I'm smart. I'm smart without the paper. Any of you who know me personally can attest to the fact that I am a clever, insightful person with academic knowledge equal to that of a person holding a bachelor's degree. I'm a language and music composition genius, and although I often downplay my intelligence in other areas, I'm also great at science, writing (note: I don't edit or plan these blog posts so they're not the best sample of my writing ability), and a very philosophical and intuitive thinker. I'm not very good with numbers or remembering names, but anything that can be thought of as a puzzle, progression, or pattern is simple to me. Well, not Rubiks cubes. But I'm sure if I applied myself to figuring one out without getting bored before finishing like I usually do, I could. I'm also eerily good at figuring out what people are thinking without them having to say it, which helps me a lot as an English as a second language teacher. It's also the reason, coupled with my patience and lack of judgmental answers, that many of my friends come to me with their problems. No, I'm not perfect, but I'm good enough to have that stupid diploma so I can get my life started already. After five years, I am tired of working and going to school at the same time. I want to do one or the other. My grades are suffering because I just don't care anymore. Last year, one of the biggest reasons I almost failed was that I cared more about tutoring English to foreigners than I cared about my classes, interesting as they were.
Last year, I was also devastated over my grandmother's death, and working way too hard and still not making enough to pay the bills which resulted in more stress. I won't even go into the other reasons I've discovered. Basically, I ended up a pretty self-loathing and world-loathing human being and lost all care for anything. I would not like to repeat that. So no, I am not going back to that place where all of those memories are, where it is winter for six months every year, where Detroit is dying and everyone is calmly digging their graves, resigned to slowly dying with it. I prefer my prison cell-like room and all of the complaints I have in this entry to that gloom and the stale air. Yeah, it's fresh and clean air because of its chemical purity thanks to the Great Lakes, but it's suffocating all the same. I realize now that the only reason I always thought of Michigan as my home was that I had nothing to compare it to except my one horrible, maladjusted, friendless year in Florida.
So basically, sorry this is not chipper and humorous, but I am a human, and humans get depressed, so I thought it a valid and very integral part of my journey to include in this journal. I have had more than enough time here to think about it. Funny, though, I still haven't found my answer.
That doesn't mean I won't find it. That just means I haven't yet.
I think a big part of it is that I live in a room the size of my mother's walk-in closet, maybe even smaller, with a window to the dark hallway. I share a bathroom and a kitchen with tons of strangers who looks at me like I'm some kind of exotic species, and I can't make much noise lest I disturb my neighbors in their 2 meter x 2 meter cells.
Another big part is that my life is going nowhere and I know it, but I don't know what the hell to do about it.
Another is the pressure from everyone.
Pressure from people in Korea: move closer to the place I usually work, move closer to my boyfriend, don't move. Moving is difficult for many reasons, like money, work, etc. but staying is even more difficult. When am I going back to America? Stay. Don't go. Stay. Stay in Korea.
Pressure from school: I must graduate, I must take certain classes, I must change my major (now it's a Bachelor of Science in International Studies and Psychology), I must get textbooks because classes start next Wednesday- when did it become September?
Pressure from home: I must keep in touch. I should move home. Am I failing in Korea yet? What am I really doing? Why not just go back home and everyone will be happy! Don't stay in Korea. Come home. What am I doing? What is the exciting life of Kristin like? Am I still alive? Helloooooo? Honestly, if I were dead, people would be informed. I do have my passport. Anyway I'm pretty sure Bundang is the safest place I've ever lived and life is actually pretty normal now. I have a daily routine and a social life, and when I feel the urge to spill my revelations onto the internet I do so for all to read. I never talked to anyone when I lived in America, and I haven't changed. I try to keep in touch a little more, chatting via this blog, letting everyone know what's up. Don't you know more about my life now than you have for the past 3 years?? I know I've been a distant daughter, friend, sister. It's just my nature. Only the things and people in front of my face feel real, and there are so many of them that it's difficult to reach out beyond them to the things and people not included in my daily life. I'm sorry, okay? It's just who I am, so please stop pressuring me because it's driving me insane.
Pressure from myself: Where is this amazing epitome I'm looking for? Where is the new start? It feels like the same thing with different scenery and characters. Like Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. I love it here so much, but why haven't I changed? I still forget about my responsibilities too much, I procrastinate, I back out of friendships when I get annoyed, I ignore the people who care about me, I sleep way too much and it affects my life in negative ways, I can't handle being alone, I need other people to admire me in order for me to admire myself. What has changed? Where is the new, stronger, Kristin? Why am I still like this? Didn't displacing myself completely light a fire under my ass to shape up and start acting like a responsible adult? I'm paying bills on time and being a nice person, but that's not enough. When is the magic moment when I don't need my mom to remind me to take care of things anymore? How do I make myself take care of myself? Why do I keep looking for someone to take care of me? Grow up already!!!!!!
Pressure from the lack of.... : I still have nowhere that really feels like home. I love my family but I've never felt like I belong in it. There is no geographical place that I'm attached to. I love my boyfriend but I'm terrified that this relationship could fall apart. Where am I even going with my life? Where will I be this time next year? Even if our relationship is still strong then, will I even be living in the same country? What kind of job will I have? I have a dream of starting a particularly unique business but I know absolutely nothing about business and I don't have the money or Korean citizen status or Korean language fluency necessary to start a business here even if I had the money, so where will I find a partner? Do I have enough passion for it? My future is a complete blank so I completely lack motivation to do anything. What goal am I reaching for? I'm headed in a direction, I know, and I'm working toward something, but it would help if I knew what the hell that something is!
I'm overwhelmed and under-supported. I don't mean that you all aren't supporting me enough. It's just that your support, while helpful, uplifting, and greatly appreciated and comforting, is not really tangible unless I'm sitting in front of my computer reading it. What about the other 23 hours a day? And the support of my friends in Korea is the same. When I'm not looking at their faces or reading their text messages or talking to them online it's not tangible. The support from my boyfriend is the strongest here, but he is only one man and he lives quite far away, so when I've needed him every day this week it's been physically impossible for him to be here for me. I've always been a very physical person, and things and people, as I said before, if they are not in front of me they are easily forgotten. Not in a malevolent way; it's just that I'm not good at remembering five bajillion things at the same time, and because my life is not very focused, there are always enough things going on immediately around me to push thoughts of the more distant things away. And, I'm only good at focusing on one thing at a time. So if I'm working, I'm only working. I am 100% there. And when it's over, it's over until the next time I work. When I'm with a friend, I am 100% with that friend. When I'm with my boyfriend, I'm 200% with him. When I'm not singularly occupied, thoughts explode in my head and I can't sort them all out. If there's too much to do, I do nothing because I'm overwhelmed and I can't make choices like where to start. If there's one thing to do, I will be more focused than most people ever can be. Basically, what I mean by under-supported is that I need so much more support from others than I should need, because I can't be my own supporter. I don't know how. And until I figure that out, I will always have this depression no matter where I run and no matter who I rely on and no matter what I do. To be my own supporter, I have to have more than the pride I hold in my talents. I have to have an outlet for those talents that I can be passionate about, and I have to see myself accomplishing something and constantly improving.
I am improving a lot. My Korean language skills, my patience (which I already had a lot of), my flexibility, my interpersonal skills, my radar for detecting people's intentions (i.e. if a guy wants to be my friend because he likes me, or if it's because he wants inappropriate things), my ability to laugh at myself, my knowledge about the way I think and assess the world, the fourth piano song I've been composing, etc.. I'm even gradually losing weight and gaining self-confidence, although like almost every person on earth, I am still very self-conscious.
But all of these things are a hodgepodge, a mess of random talents, personality traits, and insights. There's no focus, nothing to apply them to. Like the classes I'm taking just for the credits toward graduation. I feel like I'm killing time, that I don't even need school except for the stupid piece of paper that tells the rest of that world that I'm smart. I'm smart without the paper. Any of you who know me personally can attest to the fact that I am a clever, insightful person with academic knowledge equal to that of a person holding a bachelor's degree. I'm a language and music composition genius, and although I often downplay my intelligence in other areas, I'm also great at science, writing (note: I don't edit or plan these blog posts so they're not the best sample of my writing ability), and a very philosophical and intuitive thinker. I'm not very good with numbers or remembering names, but anything that can be thought of as a puzzle, progression, or pattern is simple to me. Well, not Rubiks cubes. But I'm sure if I applied myself to figuring one out without getting bored before finishing like I usually do, I could. I'm also eerily good at figuring out what people are thinking without them having to say it, which helps me a lot as an English as a second language teacher. It's also the reason, coupled with my patience and lack of judgmental answers, that many of my friends come to me with their problems. No, I'm not perfect, but I'm good enough to have that stupid diploma so I can get my life started already. After five years, I am tired of working and going to school at the same time. I want to do one or the other. My grades are suffering because I just don't care anymore. Last year, one of the biggest reasons I almost failed was that I cared more about tutoring English to foreigners than I cared about my classes, interesting as they were.
Last year, I was also devastated over my grandmother's death, and working way too hard and still not making enough to pay the bills which resulted in more stress. I won't even go into the other reasons I've discovered. Basically, I ended up a pretty self-loathing and world-loathing human being and lost all care for anything. I would not like to repeat that. So no, I am not going back to that place where all of those memories are, where it is winter for six months every year, where Detroit is dying and everyone is calmly digging their graves, resigned to slowly dying with it. I prefer my prison cell-like room and all of the complaints I have in this entry to that gloom and the stale air. Yeah, it's fresh and clean air because of its chemical purity thanks to the Great Lakes, but it's suffocating all the same. I realize now that the only reason I always thought of Michigan as my home was that I had nothing to compare it to except my one horrible, maladjusted, friendless year in Florida.
So basically, sorry this is not chipper and humorous, but I am a human, and humans get depressed, so I thought it a valid and very integral part of my journey to include in this journal. I have had more than enough time here to think about it. Funny, though, I still haven't found my answer.
That doesn't mean I won't find it. That just means I haven't yet.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Pictures Posted
If you hadn't noticed already, I've posted links on the sidebar to all of the photos of my Korean life that I've uploaded thus far. I just added more today from of the Korean countryside as seen from a train window around sunset.
Here you can find a lot of pictures I took from the train on the way back from my trip to 안동 (Andong):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2698201&id=2356262&l=7714f19d2a
Here are some from 서울 (Seoul) and 부산 (Busan):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2708203&id=2356262&l=fc9c9b4279
These are from when I first arrived:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2676050&id=2356262&l=3be7996bda
And these are from a few weeks after I first arrived, during the cherry blossom festival:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2683709&id=2356262&l=e5df13907c
Here you can find a lot of pictures I took from the train on the way back from my trip to 안동 (Andong):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2698201&id=2356262&l=7714f19d2a
Here are some from 서울 (Seoul) and 부산 (Busan):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2708203&id=2356262&l=fc9c9b4279
These are from when I first arrived:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2676050&id=2356262&l=3be7996bda
And these are from a few weeks after I first arrived, during the cherry blossom festival:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2683709&id=2356262&l=e5df13907c
Sunday, August 9, 2009
More Traveling!! And not just me...
Wow so busy~!
Last weekend I went to 안동 (Andong) with my boyfriend. I had a long weekend so I told him I wanted to travel. We each chose two places we wanted to go, and then chose one from that list. His mother and aunts and grandmother live in/around 안동 (Andong) so it was the least expensive choice and he's familiar with the area.
My boyfriend's family really likes me. When we got off the bus in 안동 (Andong) Friday evening, we walked around for a ridiculously long time seeing a couple of sights and being cute together, then caught a taxi to his mother's apartment pretty late at night. At first I was really shy because 1. I was meeting my boyfriend's mother and 2. I can't speak Korean all that well. But, she was so excited to have us there and prepared some watermelon, beer, and snacks and we all chatted and ate together. There was a lot of "pass" said, which is what my boyfriend and I say when we can't understand each other, but it's amazing how little those moments detract from conversation.
Saturday we went to his aunt's restaurant, which is within walking distance of his mother's home. I swear, his aunt makes the best 육계장 (yukgae jang, a spicy beef and vegetable soup that is my favorite Korean food) and delicious 김밥 (kimbab, like Korean sushi rolls). His aunt asked me some questions, and with only a little trouble, I was able to understand and answer. Granted, they were simple questions like "When did you come to Korea?" "How old are you?" "Are you a student?" "Why did you come to Korea?" "How do you like Korea?" etc. I hear those questions all the time so I'm used to answering them in Korean. Then, while my boyfriend and I were eating, his cousins came in because their mother called them saying "규원이 (Kyu Won) is here with his girlfriend". They were two young boys, and very curious but shy. The younger one didn't believe I was really dating his cousin. My boyfriend wanted me to speak to them in English, but I didn't know what to say, and when I asked the younger one simple questions like "What is your name?" and "How old are you?" and "Do you go to school?" he didn't answer me. I felt like a monkey in a zoo, with everyone talking in Korean and looking at me and expecting me to do something, but neither I nor them knew what that something was. It was seriously awkward and I kind of wanted to disappear. But I knew that if I spent more time with them it would become more comfortable, so I put on a smiling face and tried my best. Then his other aunt and little girl cousin came. No kidding, that little girl speaks English better than even my boyfriend. She was by far the best among all of them, and also the youngest. She studies in an academy with a native English speaking teacher, and she wants to study in an English speaking country. At first, though, even she was shy. She also couldn't believe I was dating her cousin. It took a while to prove it.
My boyfriend and I were planning to go to a fish festival or just wander together, but his cousins wanted us to go to their grandmother's house with them. Since I don't really like fish and I was curious about the Korean countryside, I was up for it. So we crammed into a taxi with his aunt and three cousins and headed to the countryside. It was so beautiful. I was really nervous to meet his grandmother because I've heard that many Korean grandparents would never approve of their grandchildren dating foreigners. But, she really liked me. We all sat around in the living room chatting (mostly me listening and watching, understanding very little) and eating fruit as quickly as his aunt could cut it. Everyone kept giving me more fruit even when I was still eating, so I ended up with a toothpick topped by a peach (maybe peach?) in each hand and a nervous giggle. Culture note: around his grandmother, I had to sit on the couch with my feet flat on the floor, not touching my boyfriend at all. The older Korean generation's definition of PDA (public displays of affection) is very strict. Holding hands in public is as bad as making out. So when we were sitting together and his arm was around me, his grandmother walked in the room and fussed and separated us. Then his cousin told me to uncross my legs, because I guess that's disrespectful or unladylike here. I'm not 100% sure why on that one, but lesson learned.
After eating fruit, we went with the cousins to wade in the nearby stream and hang out. By the time we waded down the stony, mossy stream to the little dam, nobody was shy anymore. His cousins were teasing us and picking cattails to make couple rings. The little girl picked some flowers for me. They were all trying to use as much English as they could and were teaching each other and asking questions. I was trying to use as much Korean as I could, too. Then we were called back to the house for dinner. We ate home-cooked, flavorful, melt-in-your-mouth 불고기 (bulgogi = beef) and country side dishes (every meal in Korea must have side dishes- they even serve pickles with pizza) outside. His grandmother insisted that I try everything and even handed me some potato. Everyone wanted to do something for me, and when it was time for my boyfriend and I to go to catch the bus, his cousin ran inside the house to get my purse for me. His grandmother gave him travel money and walked us to the bus stop, and even gave me a hug when we left, making sure to tell the bus driver where we were going so he could tell us when to get off. On the bus, the passengers were chatting with each other and with the driver, and they were sharing corn with everyone. I was handed two ears of corn with smiles, and my boyfriend and I munched all the way. When we finished an ear of corn, we simply threw it out the window like everyone else. After returning to civilization, we wandered around for hours and then returned to his mother's place. We all watched TV together, and we ate watermelon and snacks again.
Sunday, we wandered around, ate more delicious food, and got on a train back to Seoul. I should also mention that his mother gave me a shirt, some hair ties, and a 하회탈 (ha hweh tal- please correct my Korean spelling- traditional Korean mask, a symbol of 안동 (Andong) and of Korea) necklace that was won in a marathon and therefore very special. Anyway, I'm looking forward to returning there and visiting all of them again in the future.
I didn't come to Korea to be just a tourist, so getting to meet my boyfriend's family and go to the true countryside (which some Koreans haven't even seen) was a great experience. Actually, it reminded me a lot of my own family. Much of my family lives in the countryside, and I actually spent many years celebrating corn in Iowa every August with my mother's grandparents, parents, and so many relatives I couldn't remember all of their names. My great-grandparents passed away when I was in high school, so we don't go to that small town every year anymore, but those memories will always be an integral part of my childhood. Interestingly, the corn in Korea tastes very different than the corn in America. I can't really describe it. They're both good. Anyway, most of my father's side of the family lives in a small town in the middle of nowhere, Missouri. I'm related to probably a third of the people in the county, and my various relatives farm pecans, corn, soybeans, and even pigs. I'm sure I'm missing a few crops, but again, I don't even know the names of many of my relatives. I have hundreds of relatives and I don't see them much. Despite all of the glaring differences, like rice fields and mountains instead of endless plains of corn and cattle, Korean countryside people seem to be, at the core, the same as American countryside people. Relaxed, friendly, sharing, and appreciative of the simple things in life. Of course, this is a broad generalization of both nations, but this is just my experience. When I walked into my boyfriend's grandmother's house, my heart ached for a moment because it looked and felt and even smelled similar to my great-grandparents' home in Iowa and my great-grandmother's home in Missouri (she's still alive and farming). Even the way his family treated me was the same way my family treats new boyfriends and girlfriends who are brave enough to meet all of us. For the first time in my life, I really feel like a country person. I think there's a little farmer in me that will never quite fade. Although I don't want to live in the countryside, I feel at home there. It's a strange contradiction, I know, but the atmosphere feels so familiar and cozy to me. The problem is that I'd go stir-crazy and get bored. So far I love the big city because every day is different and I see so many different faces that I don't have to worry that they're making rumors about me or that I have to be careful of my actions so they won't judge me. Also, everything I need is within walking distance and public transportation is amazing. But sometimes I really wish I had someplace to be alone, to scream, to cry, to sing, to write, to breathe, to relax, to be a person instead of feeling like there are eyes on me. I have to be quiet in my room because the walls are thin and many, many people live here. I have to be respectable in public because I'm a representative of American culture, and on a more basic level because I'm a person and I don't want to look stupid in front of other people. I've developed one dual identity: human and American. Now I'm developing a second: country girl and city girl. In America, I was always a suburban girl, so it's strange that I've become somewhat homesick for a countryside life I've never actually lived.
Upon returning to Seoul, I met my friend Reza, who was visiting from 울산 (Ulsan). You might remember him as one of the friends I visited when I went there a few weeks ago. Here's a hint: he's the British one. Anyway, because we met so late at night we stayed out all night and ate, chatted, and hung out in an Indian-style cafe, then took the first train home (well, him to a hotel, me to home). Then I got a little sleep and woke up the next day feeling kind of sick, with a mildly painful case of diarrhea. Ignoring that, I went out again Monday night with Reza, my friend Julia who just moved here less than a month ago, and my boyfriend and two of his friends. Out of the foreigners, my Korean was the best. Out of the Koreans, my boyfriend's English was the best. My boyfriend and I have a hard time communicating relatively often, so you can imagine the six of us had quite the struggle. But, we all had a great time. One of my boyfriend's friends came up with the idea that at dinner, we should all introduce ourselves in the other language (Koreans in English, foreigners in Korean). It was both hilarious and a good language-barrier ice breaker because I think I was the only one who didn't have much trouble. I've been introducing myself in Korean for four months so I have that pretty much down-pat. It's the whole 'real conversation' thing I'm still working on. At the end of the evening, contact information was exchanged and we all said goodbye. It was one of the most awkwardly fun nights I've had in Korea. I love when people can try hard and laugh when they fail. Most of the conversation was in English, because they speak more English than we do Korean. Well, I might be even with them by now but I stumble a lot, and my vocabulary is only very utilitarian. I can talk about myself, make plans, buy things, give and ask for directions, and tell simple stories (the latter usually ends up extremely choppy). Most Koreans I know have a more well-rounded English vocabulary because they learned English from books, but they have a lot of trouble speaking because they don't learn speaking in class and they don't have many chances to practice. Also, I think the biggest problem is confidence and the intimidating fact that I'm often the first native speaker they've tried to talk to. I know I'm still nervous to talk to Koreans in Korean, Japanese people in Japanese, and French people in French. A couple of my friends have told me that my biggest problem speaking Korean is that I lack confidence so sentences often come out as questions because I'm more asking if I'm saying something right than just saying it.
Tuesday I was really sick. Abdominal pain, diarrhea, vomiting (which I haven't done in years), and lightheadedness. My boyfriend had had a stomachache, too, on Monday, so we guessed it was food poisoning from something we ate together in 안동 (Andong). I canceled all of my plans and spent half the day trying to sleep but being called every hour or two (unusual... most Koreans just text) and the other half between the bathroom, the computer, and bed. On Wednesday when I re-emerged into the real world, one of the first things I heard was "Wow you got a lot slimmer! Did you lose 2 or 3 kilograms?? Maybe I should get food poisoning!" Actually, that reminds me- I don't know if I mentioned it before but I've lost almost 10 kilograms since coming here. That's about 20 pounds, I think. I was at a pretty heavy weight, even for me, when I left America, so I still have to lose another 5 kilograms to be the skinniest I've been since early middle school. Causes of weight loss: public transportation, healthier food, and living alone but sharing a kitchen with many people (just think about the last one and you can imagine my eating habits at home).
This week's strangest encounters with people: I was in an elevator with a guy on my way to work and he said "hi" when we had almost reached the first floor. He then walked with me out of the building, talking in Korean and English, gave me his business card, and asked me for my phone number. He works for Rosetta Stone, the company I have to thank for SharedTalk.com which is where I have met most of my friends here including my boyfriend, and he seemed nice, so I gave it to him. He called me a few days later, but I was busy. We might get dinner later, we might not. It doesn't really matter to me because as a business contact he probably couldn't be of much use to me, and I have a boyfriend whom I love so there's no romantic intrigue. On Wednesday- or maybe it was Thursday, more strangers randomly talked to me than any other day I can remember. It was truly strange and I have no explanation except maybe cosmic coincidence. Yesterday evening I got out of the shower and a small, drunk, middle-aged woman who had been trying to puke in the toilet said "미안해요" ("I'm sorry") and hugged me for at least a minute, talking in a continuous stream that I couldn't understand. I didn't know what to do, so I just rubbed her back in a comforting way. Then she pulled away a little and apologized again, and she looked like she was going to kiss me. I was freaking out a bit, so I said, "I'm sorry but I should go to my room" as I stood there with wet hair, wrapped in a towel, and holding my shower basket and underwear. She said "I know that too, but I'm sorry," and hugged me again. She talked some more, then let me go and said "고마워요" ("Thank you"). I left, confused, and almost forgot to leave the bathroom slippers in the bathroom as I stepped out. The owner of my 고시원 (goshiweon) keeps asking me to spend half an hour chatting with him in the kitchen. He always mentions this when I'm going out, coming out of the shower, or otherwise obviously busy. I want to talk to him, but it's a very awkward situation in terms of timing. Also, he can't really speak English and I can't really speak Korean. He wants me to help him with English, I think. Usually I don't understand most of what he says. If I don't get something, he just says it more slowly instead of using easier vocabulary.
I'm watching Shrek 2 dubbed in Korean. Odd.
Side note - my earlier post "Fame" is getting a lot of attention. I thank everyone for your encouragement, insight, support, and even for your criticism (the valid and constructive kind, not the childish kind). Since that aspect of my experience here is such a hot topic, I'll make a conscious effort to include events and thoughts related to my minority status in future posts.
Last weekend I went to 안동 (Andong) with my boyfriend. I had a long weekend so I told him I wanted to travel. We each chose two places we wanted to go, and then chose one from that list. His mother and aunts and grandmother live in/around 안동 (Andong) so it was the least expensive choice and he's familiar with the area.
My boyfriend's family really likes me. When we got off the bus in 안동 (Andong) Friday evening, we walked around for a ridiculously long time seeing a couple of sights and being cute together, then caught a taxi to his mother's apartment pretty late at night. At first I was really shy because 1. I was meeting my boyfriend's mother and 2. I can't speak Korean all that well. But, she was so excited to have us there and prepared some watermelon, beer, and snacks and we all chatted and ate together. There was a lot of "pass" said, which is what my boyfriend and I say when we can't understand each other, but it's amazing how little those moments detract from conversation.
Saturday we went to his aunt's restaurant, which is within walking distance of his mother's home. I swear, his aunt makes the best 육계장 (yukgae jang, a spicy beef and vegetable soup that is my favorite Korean food) and delicious 김밥 (kimbab, like Korean sushi rolls). His aunt asked me some questions, and with only a little trouble, I was able to understand and answer. Granted, they were simple questions like "When did you come to Korea?" "How old are you?" "Are you a student?" "Why did you come to Korea?" "How do you like Korea?" etc. I hear those questions all the time so I'm used to answering them in Korean. Then, while my boyfriend and I were eating, his cousins came in because their mother called them saying "규원이 (Kyu Won) is here with his girlfriend". They were two young boys, and very curious but shy. The younger one didn't believe I was really dating his cousin. My boyfriend wanted me to speak to them in English, but I didn't know what to say, and when I asked the younger one simple questions like "What is your name?" and "How old are you?" and "Do you go to school?" he didn't answer me. I felt like a monkey in a zoo, with everyone talking in Korean and looking at me and expecting me to do something, but neither I nor them knew what that something was. It was seriously awkward and I kind of wanted to disappear. But I knew that if I spent more time with them it would become more comfortable, so I put on a smiling face and tried my best. Then his other aunt and little girl cousin came. No kidding, that little girl speaks English better than even my boyfriend. She was by far the best among all of them, and also the youngest. She studies in an academy with a native English speaking teacher, and she wants to study in an English speaking country. At first, though, even she was shy. She also couldn't believe I was dating her cousin. It took a while to prove it.
My boyfriend and I were planning to go to a fish festival or just wander together, but his cousins wanted us to go to their grandmother's house with them. Since I don't really like fish and I was curious about the Korean countryside, I was up for it. So we crammed into a taxi with his aunt and three cousins and headed to the countryside. It was so beautiful. I was really nervous to meet his grandmother because I've heard that many Korean grandparents would never approve of their grandchildren dating foreigners. But, she really liked me. We all sat around in the living room chatting (mostly me listening and watching, understanding very little) and eating fruit as quickly as his aunt could cut it. Everyone kept giving me more fruit even when I was still eating, so I ended up with a toothpick topped by a peach (maybe peach?) in each hand and a nervous giggle. Culture note: around his grandmother, I had to sit on the couch with my feet flat on the floor, not touching my boyfriend at all. The older Korean generation's definition of PDA (public displays of affection) is very strict. Holding hands in public is as bad as making out. So when we were sitting together and his arm was around me, his grandmother walked in the room and fussed and separated us. Then his cousin told me to uncross my legs, because I guess that's disrespectful or unladylike here. I'm not 100% sure why on that one, but lesson learned.
After eating fruit, we went with the cousins to wade in the nearby stream and hang out. By the time we waded down the stony, mossy stream to the little dam, nobody was shy anymore. His cousins were teasing us and picking cattails to make couple rings. The little girl picked some flowers for me. They were all trying to use as much English as they could and were teaching each other and asking questions. I was trying to use as much Korean as I could, too. Then we were called back to the house for dinner. We ate home-cooked, flavorful, melt-in-your-mouth 불고기 (bulgogi = beef) and country side dishes (every meal in Korea must have side dishes- they even serve pickles with pizza) outside. His grandmother insisted that I try everything and even handed me some potato. Everyone wanted to do something for me, and when it was time for my boyfriend and I to go to catch the bus, his cousin ran inside the house to get my purse for me. His grandmother gave him travel money and walked us to the bus stop, and even gave me a hug when we left, making sure to tell the bus driver where we were going so he could tell us when to get off. On the bus, the passengers were chatting with each other and with the driver, and they were sharing corn with everyone. I was handed two ears of corn with smiles, and my boyfriend and I munched all the way. When we finished an ear of corn, we simply threw it out the window like everyone else. After returning to civilization, we wandered around for hours and then returned to his mother's place. We all watched TV together, and we ate watermelon and snacks again.
Sunday, we wandered around, ate more delicious food, and got on a train back to Seoul. I should also mention that his mother gave me a shirt, some hair ties, and a 하회탈 (ha hweh tal- please correct my Korean spelling- traditional Korean mask, a symbol of 안동 (Andong) and of Korea) necklace that was won in a marathon and therefore very special. Anyway, I'm looking forward to returning there and visiting all of them again in the future.
I didn't come to Korea to be just a tourist, so getting to meet my boyfriend's family and go to the true countryside (which some Koreans haven't even seen) was a great experience. Actually, it reminded me a lot of my own family. Much of my family lives in the countryside, and I actually spent many years celebrating corn in Iowa every August with my mother's grandparents, parents, and so many relatives I couldn't remember all of their names. My great-grandparents passed away when I was in high school, so we don't go to that small town every year anymore, but those memories will always be an integral part of my childhood. Interestingly, the corn in Korea tastes very different than the corn in America. I can't really describe it. They're both good. Anyway, most of my father's side of the family lives in a small town in the middle of nowhere, Missouri. I'm related to probably a third of the people in the county, and my various relatives farm pecans, corn, soybeans, and even pigs. I'm sure I'm missing a few crops, but again, I don't even know the names of many of my relatives. I have hundreds of relatives and I don't see them much. Despite all of the glaring differences, like rice fields and mountains instead of endless plains of corn and cattle, Korean countryside people seem to be, at the core, the same as American countryside people. Relaxed, friendly, sharing, and appreciative of the simple things in life. Of course, this is a broad generalization of both nations, but this is just my experience. When I walked into my boyfriend's grandmother's house, my heart ached for a moment because it looked and felt and even smelled similar to my great-grandparents' home in Iowa and my great-grandmother's home in Missouri (she's still alive and farming). Even the way his family treated me was the same way my family treats new boyfriends and girlfriends who are brave enough to meet all of us. For the first time in my life, I really feel like a country person. I think there's a little farmer in me that will never quite fade. Although I don't want to live in the countryside, I feel at home there. It's a strange contradiction, I know, but the atmosphere feels so familiar and cozy to me. The problem is that I'd go stir-crazy and get bored. So far I love the big city because every day is different and I see so many different faces that I don't have to worry that they're making rumors about me or that I have to be careful of my actions so they won't judge me. Also, everything I need is within walking distance and public transportation is amazing. But sometimes I really wish I had someplace to be alone, to scream, to cry, to sing, to write, to breathe, to relax, to be a person instead of feeling like there are eyes on me. I have to be quiet in my room because the walls are thin and many, many people live here. I have to be respectable in public because I'm a representative of American culture, and on a more basic level because I'm a person and I don't want to look stupid in front of other people. I've developed one dual identity: human and American. Now I'm developing a second: country girl and city girl. In America, I was always a suburban girl, so it's strange that I've become somewhat homesick for a countryside life I've never actually lived.
Upon returning to Seoul, I met my friend Reza, who was visiting from 울산 (Ulsan). You might remember him as one of the friends I visited when I went there a few weeks ago. Here's a hint: he's the British one. Anyway, because we met so late at night we stayed out all night and ate, chatted, and hung out in an Indian-style cafe, then took the first train home (well, him to a hotel, me to home). Then I got a little sleep and woke up the next day feeling kind of sick, with a mildly painful case of diarrhea. Ignoring that, I went out again Monday night with Reza, my friend Julia who just moved here less than a month ago, and my boyfriend and two of his friends. Out of the foreigners, my Korean was the best. Out of the Koreans, my boyfriend's English was the best. My boyfriend and I have a hard time communicating relatively often, so you can imagine the six of us had quite the struggle. But, we all had a great time. One of my boyfriend's friends came up with the idea that at dinner, we should all introduce ourselves in the other language (Koreans in English, foreigners in Korean). It was both hilarious and a good language-barrier ice breaker because I think I was the only one who didn't have much trouble. I've been introducing myself in Korean for four months so I have that pretty much down-pat. It's the whole 'real conversation' thing I'm still working on. At the end of the evening, contact information was exchanged and we all said goodbye. It was one of the most awkwardly fun nights I've had in Korea. I love when people can try hard and laugh when they fail. Most of the conversation was in English, because they speak more English than we do Korean. Well, I might be even with them by now but I stumble a lot, and my vocabulary is only very utilitarian. I can talk about myself, make plans, buy things, give and ask for directions, and tell simple stories (the latter usually ends up extremely choppy). Most Koreans I know have a more well-rounded English vocabulary because they learned English from books, but they have a lot of trouble speaking because they don't learn speaking in class and they don't have many chances to practice. Also, I think the biggest problem is confidence and the intimidating fact that I'm often the first native speaker they've tried to talk to. I know I'm still nervous to talk to Koreans in Korean, Japanese people in Japanese, and French people in French. A couple of my friends have told me that my biggest problem speaking Korean is that I lack confidence so sentences often come out as questions because I'm more asking if I'm saying something right than just saying it.
Tuesday I was really sick. Abdominal pain, diarrhea, vomiting (which I haven't done in years), and lightheadedness. My boyfriend had had a stomachache, too, on Monday, so we guessed it was food poisoning from something we ate together in 안동 (Andong). I canceled all of my plans and spent half the day trying to sleep but being called every hour or two (unusual... most Koreans just text) and the other half between the bathroom, the computer, and bed. On Wednesday when I re-emerged into the real world, one of the first things I heard was "Wow you got a lot slimmer! Did you lose 2 or 3 kilograms?? Maybe I should get food poisoning!" Actually, that reminds me- I don't know if I mentioned it before but I've lost almost 10 kilograms since coming here. That's about 20 pounds, I think. I was at a pretty heavy weight, even for me, when I left America, so I still have to lose another 5 kilograms to be the skinniest I've been since early middle school. Causes of weight loss: public transportation, healthier food, and living alone but sharing a kitchen with many people (just think about the last one and you can imagine my eating habits at home).
This week's strangest encounters with people: I was in an elevator with a guy on my way to work and he said "hi" when we had almost reached the first floor. He then walked with me out of the building, talking in Korean and English, gave me his business card, and asked me for my phone number. He works for Rosetta Stone, the company I have to thank for SharedTalk.com which is where I have met most of my friends here including my boyfriend, and he seemed nice, so I gave it to him. He called me a few days later, but I was busy. We might get dinner later, we might not. It doesn't really matter to me because as a business contact he probably couldn't be of much use to me, and I have a boyfriend whom I love so there's no romantic intrigue. On Wednesday- or maybe it was Thursday, more strangers randomly talked to me than any other day I can remember. It was truly strange and I have no explanation except maybe cosmic coincidence. Yesterday evening I got out of the shower and a small, drunk, middle-aged woman who had been trying to puke in the toilet said "미안해요" ("I'm sorry") and hugged me for at least a minute, talking in a continuous stream that I couldn't understand. I didn't know what to do, so I just rubbed her back in a comforting way. Then she pulled away a little and apologized again, and she looked like she was going to kiss me. I was freaking out a bit, so I said, "I'm sorry but I should go to my room" as I stood there with wet hair, wrapped in a towel, and holding my shower basket and underwear. She said "I know that too, but I'm sorry," and hugged me again. She talked some more, then let me go and said "고마워요" ("Thank you"). I left, confused, and almost forgot to leave the bathroom slippers in the bathroom as I stepped out. The owner of my 고시원 (goshiweon) keeps asking me to spend half an hour chatting with him in the kitchen. He always mentions this when I'm going out, coming out of the shower, or otherwise obviously busy. I want to talk to him, but it's a very awkward situation in terms of timing. Also, he can't really speak English and I can't really speak Korean. He wants me to help him with English, I think. Usually I don't understand most of what he says. If I don't get something, he just says it more slowly instead of using easier vocabulary.
I'm watching Shrek 2 dubbed in Korean. Odd.
Side note - my earlier post "Fame" is getting a lot of attention. I thank everyone for your encouragement, insight, support, and even for your criticism (the valid and constructive kind, not the childish kind). Since that aspect of my experience here is such a hot topic, I'll make a conscious effort to include events and thoughts related to my minority status in future posts.
Monday, July 27, 2009
New Places and New (and familiar) Faces
I took a weekend trip to 울산 (Ulsan) on the south side of Korea last weekend to meet my friend, who has been an email and instant messenger friend since January or so. His name is 성동 (Sungdong), and I helped him find a British friend a while ago, whose name is Reza. I spent the entire weekend with those two guys. We went to 부산 (Busan) as well and met Reza's friend Eve and some of her friends. Basically, it was a social bonanza and exactly what I needed to get over my stir-craziness. As far as my impression of the area, it's about the same as the Seoul area, but with a beach and higher mountains. It's gorgeous, really, and I look forward to returning whenever I get the chance. I feel right at home with 성동 (Sungdong) and Reza, like they could be my cousins or brothers, and I'm sure I will miss them after a while. By the time I got back to 분당 (Bundang), I was refreshed, a little tan, exhausted from traveling, and missing my friend 규원 (Edward) a lot.
I got back home and back to daily life. 규원 (Edward) took me to a 찜질방 (jjimjilbang, like a sauna and public bath house) Monday night. He researched which one was the most famous in Seoul, as he had done for a noodle restaurant the week before. It turned out to be the new spa at Garden 5, an under-construction 3-building mega-mall which takes up 3 city blocks. It was difficult to find, and when we finally got there he tried to explain what I was supposed to do. For all of you Americans, let me just say it's something you've probably never tried before. There are separate shower rooms for men and women. When you enter, you get a key that works for two lockers: one for your shoes and one inside the shower area. You also get two hand towels (Koreans generally don't use large towels like Americans do) and a shirt and shorts; in this place brown for women and tan for men. When I walked in the door to the women's side, the first thing I noticed (which 규원 (Edward) had warned me of) was that most of the women there were 100% naked and completely unashamed. Korean society is very conservative about sexual things, and here before my eyes were girls and women of all ages with absolutely no clothes on, acting completely normally. I asked a middle-aged woman in lacy lingerie where I was supposed to go, adding that it was my first time. She led me to a locker with my number (17) and said to put everything in there and then the shower room was the other way. I was unsure and embarrassed, and started taking off articles of clothing one by one, starting with my socks, jewelry, and hair tie. I watched as another woman wearing clothes passed me to go further into the locker area. I pretended to be primping and checking cell phones messages until I saw her walk by the other way, completely naked and holding a towel. Thus, I was assured that was what I was supposed to do. By then I was in pants and a bra, so I stripped and followed suit. In the shower room there was a large bath with some women relaxing and girls playing, and rows of half-height showers with mirrors and stools. There were also full-height showers without any dividers, like swimming locker rooms in high schools. I saw a couple of women getting massages, too, but I didn't know if you had to pay for that or not. I was still self-conscious about my naked body so I didn't want to draw attention to myself by exploring or asking questions. I just found a shower with a stool in an empty row, sat down, spent about 3 minutes figuring out how to turn the water on, and grabbed the bar of soap. After bathing, I walked back to my locker completely bare past all of the other completely bare women and donned the brown shirt and shorts. With my key on its stretchy bracelet around my wrist, I entered the main area to meet 규원 (Edward).
He had said to meet him in the 찜질방 (jjimjilbang), which is the sauna area, in 20 minutes. Neither of us had ever been there, so we couldn't have anticipated the fact that there were 3 of them, plus 2 freezer rooms (don't ask me why Koreans have cold rooms and hot rooms in their spas, but 규원 (Edward) didn't think it was odd). There were also two rows of what look like Western half-circle brick fireplaces at the entrance, but are person-length tube-like room things with heat lights in them. Sorry for the choppy description, but it's not something I'd ever seen before so I don't really know what else to compare it to. Anyway, the place also had a hot and cold water purifier (standard just about everywhere like water fountains in America), a little playground area for kids, a snack bar, a restaurant, a coffee shop, a large flat-screen TV in view of a row of massage chairs, a PC room with internet at every computer, an indoor balcony area with a view of an indoor park on the floor below, a room decorated like the outside with a bird in a birdcage and a bench swing, a movie theater downstairs with lazyboy chairs in rows, a pile of sleeping mats, and two or three super-hot sauna areas that look somewhat like Native American medicine man sweat lodges if I had to compare them to something Western. I might have missed something in that list because it was quite overwhelming for me and we didn't do everything.
Anyway, I was petrified. Here I was, my cell phone in my locker, the only foreigner, where everyone was dressed the same, and I didn't know where the hell to wait for my friend. I looked in all of the 찜질방 (jjimjilbang) but I didn't see him, so I figured I had come out before he had. But what if he was waiting for me somewhere? What if I was just stupid and couldn't find the right place? I asked a little girl where the 찜질방 (jjimjilbang) was, just in case I had misunderstood what I was seeing and there was one big one where I would find 규원 (Edward). She confirmed what I thought, that there were three of them, and scampered off. I like asking children questions because I don't feel as ridiculous and insecure, and because they use easier words. I checked all three, but he wasn't in any of them. I decided to go back to the main area in view of the men's shower exit, and I watched TV while keeping a nervous eye on the door, above which was a clock. After what felt like forever because I was so anxious (I just did something completely new by myself and then emerged to a place where I was helpless and with which I was also completely unfamiliar), but the clock said was only about five minutes, 규원 (Edward) emerged.
After exploring a little, we decided to check out the movie room, which was showing American Gangster at the time. Neither of us had seen it before, so we settled into neighboring, big, comfy chairs (being clumsy and nervous, I almost knocked mine over), and started to watch the movie. After a while, he asked if it was okay if he took my hand. With butterflies in my stomach I agreed, and we spent the rest of the movie hand in hand, occasionally chit-chatting a little. I guess you could say that was the moment we started dating.
규원 (Edward) is pretty crazy in a way I really like. Not destructive or cruel crazy, just individual crazy. So far the only problem I can imagine is the language barrier problem. At the beginning of any relationship, if you forsee problems, it's doomed to fail. But, I'm learning Korean quickly and will try even harder for him, and I'm sure his English conversation will continue to improve as it has been over the last month or however long we've known each other. He read this blog and could understand 95%, and he reads English language newspapers and has very little trouble understanding. So, vocabulary and comprehension isn't an issue; he's just not used to listening and speaking (very normal in Korea because of the traditional educational system's stress on test-taking rather than conversation when it comes to English). While I'm learning a completely new language, he's learning a pretty new aspect of a familiar language. We'll keep getting closer and closer to meeting in the middle and eventually we won't need excessive body language anymore. He's completely devoted to me, as I'm quickly becoming to him. He lives far away from me, but that hasn't been much of a hindrance, as he's willing to come all the way to where I live with no complaints. I would gladly go to him as well, but recently I've had almost no time and have been constantly exhausted for more than two weeks. Now, because of the new subway line 9, which literally just opened, it takes half an hour for him to get to 강남 (Gangnam) instead of the hour it took before. 강남 (Gangnam) is about 20-30 minutes away from my home by bus, depending on which bus I take and how the traffic is, plus there's usually up to a 15 minute wait for a bus. So, distance isn't a real problem anymore thanks to serendipity and Seoul Metro. I haven't had a chance to do something half as nice for him as he does for me on a weekly basis, but I'll think of something. Sorry, the only pictures we have together are on his cell phone, but I'll try to remember to pull out my camera next time I see him.
Well, as always, I have written way more than necessary on one topic. Now I'm really tired and it's 4am so I can't tell you about the other exciting news I have. I'll jot down the other biggest event to satisfy your curiosity. My friend Julia from Korean class back in America (a year ago) moved to the north side of Seoul two weeks ago. FINALLY, I got up to see her with my friend 선형 (Seonhyeong/Sunhyoung) and we had a girls' night at Julia's place on Friday. I don't even wanna talk about my transportation nightmare that turned a 2-hour trip with time to spare to see 선형 (Sunhyoung)'s new room into 3 hours with no time to spare. Anyway, we had a good time, and the next day Julia went home with me. We got some breakfast and I showered while she watched cable TV in Korea for the first time (hers doesn't work), and then we went out to meet someone for a short while. Then we shopped, watched a little more ridiculous TV, talked, and headed to 강남 (Gangnam) to meet 주환 (Joohwan). Remember him? It's been about 3 months since the last time I saw him! Way too long~! It was really great to meet again, and he and Julia got along well so it wasn't too awkward or anything.
When I say it was really great to meet 주환 (Joohwan) again, I mean that in a few ways. One, of course, is that we're friends and it's been a while and I missed him. Two is that I have an old friend in Korea now. I know 4 months isn't a really long time, but with all the changes and new experiences I've had, it feels like a lifetime. I barely even remember living in America at this point! Also, I've had a lot of friends come and go, but seeing 주환 (Joohwan) again is like validation that I can and have made a lasting friendship out of all of this. Even when we couldn't see each other, we sent texts back and forth periodically, which is something I don't generally do. I'm one of those if-you-call-me-it-should-be-to-plan-a-meeting people. Here, I send texts just to keep in touch with 주환 (Joohwan) and also 성동 (Sungdong, the friend I traveled to visit in the south). I barely even keep in touch with my own family, so it's really surprising to me that I do that. Mostly it's replies, but I've even initiated a couple little conversations. This shows me something I hadn't expected: I'm learning to value friendship more and to lean on simple conversations for emotional support. Just knowing that my friend on the other side of the country is hanging out with his friends this weekend makes me feel like I have a little more meaning in my life. Places change, many friends come and go. Oddly, though, those are the only two of my friends here that I value in that way. Maybe it's because they're both around the same age as my brother and they treat me like a little sister. I do miss my brother quite a bit, so maybe because my friendships with them remind me of him they're very comforting. Also, I feel like I'm important to them to about the same extent that they are important to me. I don't like unbalanced friendships in which a friend relies on me more than I rely on that friend, or vice versa. Although it's very rare that I rely on a friend for anything more than trivial favors or trivial advice. That's reserved for my two best friends: Anna (my longest-lasting friendship ever) and 은영 (Jenny) (my former roommate). For me, I have to really feel close to someone to call or send a message when I'm in trouble or feeling down or afraid. Maybe my walls are coming down as I'm growing up here.
Oh, and now it's 4:35am. Really, I'm going to sleep now. Oh my god. So yawny.
I got back home and back to daily life. 규원 (Edward) took me to a 찜질방 (jjimjilbang, like a sauna and public bath house) Monday night. He researched which one was the most famous in Seoul, as he had done for a noodle restaurant the week before. It turned out to be the new spa at Garden 5, an under-construction 3-building mega-mall which takes up 3 city blocks. It was difficult to find, and when we finally got there he tried to explain what I was supposed to do. For all of you Americans, let me just say it's something you've probably never tried before. There are separate shower rooms for men and women. When you enter, you get a key that works for two lockers: one for your shoes and one inside the shower area. You also get two hand towels (Koreans generally don't use large towels like Americans do) and a shirt and shorts; in this place brown for women and tan for men. When I walked in the door to the women's side, the first thing I noticed (which 규원 (Edward) had warned me of) was that most of the women there were 100% naked and completely unashamed. Korean society is very conservative about sexual things, and here before my eyes were girls and women of all ages with absolutely no clothes on, acting completely normally. I asked a middle-aged woman in lacy lingerie where I was supposed to go, adding that it was my first time. She led me to a locker with my number (17) and said to put everything in there and then the shower room was the other way. I was unsure and embarrassed, and started taking off articles of clothing one by one, starting with my socks, jewelry, and hair tie. I watched as another woman wearing clothes passed me to go further into the locker area. I pretended to be primping and checking cell phones messages until I saw her walk by the other way, completely naked and holding a towel. Thus, I was assured that was what I was supposed to do. By then I was in pants and a bra, so I stripped and followed suit. In the shower room there was a large bath with some women relaxing and girls playing, and rows of half-height showers with mirrors and stools. There were also full-height showers without any dividers, like swimming locker rooms in high schools. I saw a couple of women getting massages, too, but I didn't know if you had to pay for that or not. I was still self-conscious about my naked body so I didn't want to draw attention to myself by exploring or asking questions. I just found a shower with a stool in an empty row, sat down, spent about 3 minutes figuring out how to turn the water on, and grabbed the bar of soap. After bathing, I walked back to my locker completely bare past all of the other completely bare women and donned the brown shirt and shorts. With my key on its stretchy bracelet around my wrist, I entered the main area to meet 규원 (Edward).
He had said to meet him in the 찜질방 (jjimjilbang), which is the sauna area, in 20 minutes. Neither of us had ever been there, so we couldn't have anticipated the fact that there were 3 of them, plus 2 freezer rooms (don't ask me why Koreans have cold rooms and hot rooms in their spas, but 규원 (Edward) didn't think it was odd). There were also two rows of what look like Western half-circle brick fireplaces at the entrance, but are person-length tube-like room things with heat lights in them. Sorry for the choppy description, but it's not something I'd ever seen before so I don't really know what else to compare it to. Anyway, the place also had a hot and cold water purifier (standard just about everywhere like water fountains in America), a little playground area for kids, a snack bar, a restaurant, a coffee shop, a large flat-screen TV in view of a row of massage chairs, a PC room with internet at every computer, an indoor balcony area with a view of an indoor park on the floor below, a room decorated like the outside with a bird in a birdcage and a bench swing, a movie theater downstairs with lazyboy chairs in rows, a pile of sleeping mats, and two or three super-hot sauna areas that look somewhat like Native American medicine man sweat lodges if I had to compare them to something Western. I might have missed something in that list because it was quite overwhelming for me and we didn't do everything.
Anyway, I was petrified. Here I was, my cell phone in my locker, the only foreigner, where everyone was dressed the same, and I didn't know where the hell to wait for my friend. I looked in all of the 찜질방 (jjimjilbang) but I didn't see him, so I figured I had come out before he had. But what if he was waiting for me somewhere? What if I was just stupid and couldn't find the right place? I asked a little girl where the 찜질방 (jjimjilbang) was, just in case I had misunderstood what I was seeing and there was one big one where I would find 규원 (Edward). She confirmed what I thought, that there were three of them, and scampered off. I like asking children questions because I don't feel as ridiculous and insecure, and because they use easier words. I checked all three, but he wasn't in any of them. I decided to go back to the main area in view of the men's shower exit, and I watched TV while keeping a nervous eye on the door, above which was a clock. After what felt like forever because I was so anxious (I just did something completely new by myself and then emerged to a place where I was helpless and with which I was also completely unfamiliar), but the clock said was only about five minutes, 규원 (Edward) emerged.
After exploring a little, we decided to check out the movie room, which was showing American Gangster at the time. Neither of us had seen it before, so we settled into neighboring, big, comfy chairs (being clumsy and nervous, I almost knocked mine over), and started to watch the movie. After a while, he asked if it was okay if he took my hand. With butterflies in my stomach I agreed, and we spent the rest of the movie hand in hand, occasionally chit-chatting a little. I guess you could say that was the moment we started dating.
규원 (Edward) is pretty crazy in a way I really like. Not destructive or cruel crazy, just individual crazy. So far the only problem I can imagine is the language barrier problem. At the beginning of any relationship, if you forsee problems, it's doomed to fail. But, I'm learning Korean quickly and will try even harder for him, and I'm sure his English conversation will continue to improve as it has been over the last month or however long we've known each other. He read this blog and could understand 95%, and he reads English language newspapers and has very little trouble understanding. So, vocabulary and comprehension isn't an issue; he's just not used to listening and speaking (very normal in Korea because of the traditional educational system's stress on test-taking rather than conversation when it comes to English). While I'm learning a completely new language, he's learning a pretty new aspect of a familiar language. We'll keep getting closer and closer to meeting in the middle and eventually we won't need excessive body language anymore. He's completely devoted to me, as I'm quickly becoming to him. He lives far away from me, but that hasn't been much of a hindrance, as he's willing to come all the way to where I live with no complaints. I would gladly go to him as well, but recently I've had almost no time and have been constantly exhausted for more than two weeks. Now, because of the new subway line 9, which literally just opened, it takes half an hour for him to get to 강남 (Gangnam) instead of the hour it took before. 강남 (Gangnam) is about 20-30 minutes away from my home by bus, depending on which bus I take and how the traffic is, plus there's usually up to a 15 minute wait for a bus. So, distance isn't a real problem anymore thanks to serendipity and Seoul Metro. I haven't had a chance to do something half as nice for him as he does for me on a weekly basis, but I'll think of something. Sorry, the only pictures we have together are on his cell phone, but I'll try to remember to pull out my camera next time I see him.
Well, as always, I have written way more than necessary on one topic. Now I'm really tired and it's 4am so I can't tell you about the other exciting news I have. I'll jot down the other biggest event to satisfy your curiosity. My friend Julia from Korean class back in America (a year ago) moved to the north side of Seoul two weeks ago. FINALLY, I got up to see her with my friend 선형 (Seonhyeong/Sunhyoung) and we had a girls' night at Julia's place on Friday. I don't even wanna talk about my transportation nightmare that turned a 2-hour trip with time to spare to see 선형 (Sunhyoung)'s new room into 3 hours with no time to spare. Anyway, we had a good time, and the next day Julia went home with me. We got some breakfast and I showered while she watched cable TV in Korea for the first time (hers doesn't work), and then we went out to meet someone for a short while. Then we shopped, watched a little more ridiculous TV, talked, and headed to 강남 (Gangnam) to meet 주환 (Joohwan). Remember him? It's been about 3 months since the last time I saw him! Way too long~! It was really great to meet again, and he and Julia got along well so it wasn't too awkward or anything.
When I say it was really great to meet 주환 (Joohwan) again, I mean that in a few ways. One, of course, is that we're friends and it's been a while and I missed him. Two is that I have an old friend in Korea now. I know 4 months isn't a really long time, but with all the changes and new experiences I've had, it feels like a lifetime. I barely even remember living in America at this point! Also, I've had a lot of friends come and go, but seeing 주환 (Joohwan) again is like validation that I can and have made a lasting friendship out of all of this. Even when we couldn't see each other, we sent texts back and forth periodically, which is something I don't generally do. I'm one of those if-you-call-me-it-should-be-to-plan-a-meeting people. Here, I send texts just to keep in touch with 주환 (Joohwan) and also 성동 (Sungdong, the friend I traveled to visit in the south). I barely even keep in touch with my own family, so it's really surprising to me that I do that. Mostly it's replies, but I've even initiated a couple little conversations. This shows me something I hadn't expected: I'm learning to value friendship more and to lean on simple conversations for emotional support. Just knowing that my friend on the other side of the country is hanging out with his friends this weekend makes me feel like I have a little more meaning in my life. Places change, many friends come and go. Oddly, though, those are the only two of my friends here that I value in that way. Maybe it's because they're both around the same age as my brother and they treat me like a little sister. I do miss my brother quite a bit, so maybe because my friendships with them remind me of him they're very comforting. Also, I feel like I'm important to them to about the same extent that they are important to me. I don't like unbalanced friendships in which a friend relies on me more than I rely on that friend, or vice versa. Although it's very rare that I rely on a friend for anything more than trivial favors or trivial advice. That's reserved for my two best friends: Anna (my longest-lasting friendship ever) and 은영 (Jenny) (my former roommate). For me, I have to really feel close to someone to call or send a message when I'm in trouble or feeling down or afraid. Maybe my walls are coming down as I'm growing up here.
Oh, and now it's 4:35am. Really, I'm going to sleep now. Oh my god. So yawny.
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