Late

I've never had insomnia.  Not real, stay up all night, tossing and turning, mind whirring, insomnia.  The closest I've come is an hour or two falling asleep or upon waking in the middle of the night -- and these are extremely rare instances.  I get this trait from my father, who falls asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.  There should be a word for that -- upon pillow-hit.  He says his deep sleeping is the sign of a clear conscience.  I'm not sure what that says about my mother.

Tonight, I have decided to pull an all-nighter.  Or rather, the all-nighter was decided for me when I realized I had three hours of sleep left.  Actually, it was decided when I -- according to custom -- grossly underestimated the amount of time I would need to pack and clean before my flight.

As a non-insomniac, I find myself without an armory of middle-of-the-night distractions.  Compounding matters is the decision I made at a cafe this evening that went something like this:

Me: What should I get?
Lauren: Do you want caffeine?
Me: No.

Past Siobhan is clearly an optimistic little fuzz bunny.  I'm also thanking her for vowing off online TV for Lent.

**

I've had a very difficult time deciding what music should accompany during my vigil.  My gut reaction was something peppy to energize me, but that quickly sounded obnoxious.  New music is too much of a gamble.  So I went with classical: non-invasive, good company.

I'm terrible about the names of classical music.  I'm bad with composers, too.  Even pieces of music that I've played for years.  There are certain types of information that, if I'm not intentional, will slip through my mind the minute I hear them.  Classical music names, strangers' names, directions.

My classical music slips into Backstreet Boys, which is the best way to keep oneself from becoming pretentious about music: remnants of middle school tastes.

Read more »

Day 357 - What I will miss about Korea

I'm not exactly sure what day I'm on, but it must be around the 357 range, because my contract is a year, and I'm leaving in five days, a bit before it officially ends.

I am sometimes very bad at creating closure with people, places, ages, etc., but my goodbye to Korea has been slow and long, so I thought I'd take a moment to write out some of the things I will miss.

Things I will miss about living/teaching in Korea:

- Walking around by myself past midnight and feeling completely safe.  I have never felt as safe in a country as I do here.  (Which is ironic, as I'm on the border of a crazy-eyed, nuke-happy dictator). 

-  Low crime in general.  I haven't had to think about pickpockets.  My friends have had phones and wallets returned to them.  I've left my bags outside for one reason or another. 

- Public Transportation.  It costs me a couple of dollars to get to Seoul -- an hour away -- on a direct bus.  The buses are direct and extensive.  The metro is clean, fast, and extensive.  It's great not having to be dependent on a car.

- Not worrying about taxes when shopping or eating out.  The price listed is what you'll pay.  How pleasant.

- And on that note, not worrying about tipping in general.  I'm not miserly, and I know that tipping in the States is the bulk of the waiter/waitress' salary.  But it's nice that it's built in here.  And that it's still cheaper (Korean food), or similarly priced

- Korean food.  Mmmm.  Inexpensive access to delicious Korean barbeques, soups, bimbimbop, kimbop, etc.

- The tight knit community of foreigners in rural areas.  I live near a small town called Geumchon, and it's pretty cool to walk around and bump into friendly faces. 

- Free rent, inexpensive health care, cheap phone bills.

- "Service".  Service is what Koreans call little gifts that are thrown in for free with purchases.  Free drinks, free time at noraebong, free random stuff...

- Noraebong!  Noraebong is Karoake in a purer form.  It's private rooms with couches, tamborines, and giant TVs and mics set up for singing.  You and your friends choose all the songs, and you can be as ridiculous as you want.

- Kind and hospitable Korean people.  I've had so many stringless free lunches here.  And people who come up to me and help me carry things (suitcases, guitar cases, etc.), or just want to chat.  Strangers who help me with directions. 

- The children here.  Are. So. Incredibly. Cute.  It's absurd.

Ilsan 

- My students and the quirky, sweet things they say.  The ones who really want to communicate with me, so they come up and repeat "How are you?" over and over, or say "This is for you," and hand me random things from my desk (I think every ESL teacher grows to resent that lesson...).  The students who insist on taking photos with me, who try to have Google Translate conversations with me, who request Justin Bieber songs...And the quiet sweet ones who bow at me and murmer "Hello."  The artwork and failed attempts at spelling and grammar....

- My co-teacher.  Her muttering to herself in English and Korean and then saying "Why?!" when I laugh at her.  Her endless dramas with her bf.  Her existential crisis over teaching.

- My apartment.  It's a good size, and it's in the middle of a street that has restaurants, grocery stores, pharmacies, bakeries, convenience stores, etc.  I love living alone.

- Pizza School. These are a chain of pizza places that have 5 dollar pizzas (actually, more like $4.50 if you convert it.)  Pretty delicious...

- All the quirky things I take for granted.  Subway arrival music.  Larva cartoons on the bus.  Street food.  The everpresent feel of Psy...

**

There are probably many more things, but these are the ones that came to mind first. 

Read more »

The one about Valentine's Day

When I was eight, my classmates drew names for Valentine's and then decorated a cupcake and made an acrostic out of the person's name.  A kid called Justin (I think?) got me and used the "I" in my name to write "I like her a lot," which we both got teased about. 

Korea is the mother of cute.  Really.  Everything is ribbons, pink, hellokitty, skirts, dresses, heels, kpop, cursive all-year-long.  Couples wear matching outfits -- shirts, pants, shoes, coats, hats, all-year-long.  (As my friend Lauren asked: When/how do they have that talk?  Is it around the three month mark?  Are the guys into it?) 

My wardrobe has not been immune to the cute.  Pink is now all over my wardrobe, I have floral headbands, multiple hair ties with flowers, little bow hair clips, etc.  But I digress.

Valentine's Day in Korea, is the first in a three month celebration of love/singleness.  February 14, March 14, and April 14 are all holidays that revolve around the subject.  February is for girls to give to guys, March (White Day) is for guys to give to girls, and April (Black Day) is for singles to get together and eat black noodles. 

Apparently Valentine's Day is about chocolate and White Day is about candy.  Two of my Korean friends have told me they have made chocolate for boyfriends on past Valentine's Days.  It feels much less inyourface here -- I haven't seen any flower/chocolate deliveries to the school, and definitely don't feel the advertising in the same way. 

Chocolate companies do make specialized chocolate bars like in the States, though.  Here's one I got: 

I'm pretty sure there's no good way to interpret "Calorie Down" written on each block of chocolate.  The bar itself was wrapped in a pink HelloKitty valentine wrapper, so these weren't meant as weight loss treats.

**

I like holidays.  I like traditions.  I like that they add and remind us of the meaning in our lives.  I like that New Years is about growth, Valentine's Day is about love, Easter is about hope, Independence Day is about patriotism, Thanksgiving is about gratitude, Christmas is about Love.  Birthdays and mother/father, etc. days are about celebrating lives of individuals.  They are all about community, celebration, appreciation; and they allow us to give and receive and be cheesy.

 
That said, I do think that turning romantic events (V-day, proposals, asking someone to prom, etc.) into crazy huge pressure competitions is usettling and sad.  Kudos to the guys and girls who go all out because they are genuinely intense romantic people.  (Though they make everyone else look bad.)

An especial kudos to the gentleman who thought it would be a good idea to tie the ring to a helium filled balloon when proposing:   

  And the dude who knocked his girlfriend out:

And of course, the following viral proposal is fabulous:

Alright, and here's some real romance.  If you haven't watched the movie, you're cutting corners. 

Happy Valentine's Day!  :)

Read more »

The Deal with Winter Camp and Desk Warming

Winter Camp

Winter English Camp is a camp during winter vacation that most public school teachers are required to teach.  Depending on your school, it can range from a few days to a few weeks.  During the rest of the school holiday, English public school teachers are still required to come in, even though there are no classes and no other teachers.  We affectionately call this time "Desk Warming."

Winter Camp is entirely in the hands of the English teacher.  (Or, most are.)  I was the one who planned it and taught it.  It runs from 8:30-12:30, with the afternoons free for planning.  Mine was set up so that 9:00-9:40 was 1st/2nd grade for two weeks, and 9:50-12:10 was 3/4th grade for the first week and 5th/6th grade for the second week.  I had 18 or so 1/2nd graders, around nine 3/4th graders, and two 5/6th graders.  Yes, two.  (Six signed up, and three came the last day). 

From what I can tell, the school doesn't actually expect the kids to greatly improve their English at Winter Camp.  It's more about having fun doing silly activities and reviewing/picking up some new vocab along the way.  Initially (before Summer Camp) I had been excited for the camps to teach new grammar and subjects outside the book, but I quickly learned that the kids are in vacation mode.  Oh, and they don't particularly care about English.  Did you care about High School Spanish?

Supplies

My school has a pretty good English budget, and they offered us a few hundred thousand won (a few hundred dollars) for Winter Camp supplies.  I made a list of what I would need for the activities, my co-teacher got the list approved, and we went shopping together with a school credit card.

Some schools have really low budgets, and every school is slightly different in their approach.

My supplies included colored paper for projects, tape, balloons, cookie ingredients, etc.

Ideas for Winter Camp

Waygook.com will save your life.  Really.  It's a site where ESL teachers in Korea upload lesson plans, games, ideas, and other materials (crosswords, worksheets, etc.)  It has forums for different themed Winter Camps: Harry Potter, Space Camp, Olympics, etc. and they are filled with really useful material. 

For 1st and 2nd grade, I did a simple craft/art project about very basic vocabulary every period.  For example, we learned some weather vocabulary, colored umbrella top cutouts, and taped them to chopsticks.   

3+4th and 5th+6th I was able to get more advanced.  We learned English songs -- I printed out the lyrics with a bunch of words removed for them to fill in -- and made/ painted paper mache heads, played review games, watched Elf, did an Egg Drop, and made no-bake cookies.

Ideas that flopped:

1) Making a music video.  This might have worked if my kids were all outgoing/dancy/enthused about memorizing an English song.  They weren't. I have some pretty terrible footage of a few kids mouthing "Love me do."  Lots of blooper footage.  Maybe I can make a blooper movie and add the real bits at the end. 

2) Learning feelings, writing them in the snow and taking pictures.  Also, snow angels.  The kids had zero desire to go outside "Teacher! COLD!", which was understandable -- most of them had no hats or gloves.  (Dear parents...). 

Also, in spite of showing an inspiring Youtube video about how to make snow angels, my kids weren't enthused about trying them out.  Except one boy who ran ahead, stopped still, and then flung himself face-forward into the snow, flailing his body around.  It was beautiful.

3) S'mores.  This wasn't my idea, nor is it my story, but it makes me laugh so I will share it.  My friend Asrune has a tumultuous (read: bizarre/insane) relationship with her co-teacher.  Asrune sat down with her before camp to go over the supplies that the co-teacher would need to get for the Winter camp.

They discussed s'more ingredients for about 20 minutes, with Asrune explaining very carefully what a s'more was, and giving her a list of optional types of chocolate, graham crackers/biscuits, and marshmellows.

When Asrune returned from vacation to start winter camp, she looked at the s'more ingredients that had been supplied.  Well, actually, she didn't know they were s'more ingredients because they were so off-base -- she assumed they were random snack foods.  Here is a breakdown of her co-teacher's s'more ingredient interpretation:

Graham crackers became: Ritz cracker cheese sandwiches. 
Plain chocolate bars became: chocolate candy bars
And the topper -- Marshmellows became: MINI SAUSAGES.

What? 

Yes.  She couldn't find marshmellows and thought that mini sausages would be an appropriate substitute. 

Desk Warming

There are a ton of complaints about desk warming because it seems pointless and inefficient, and other teachers have the vacation days off.

I kind of enjoy it.  They're paying me to relax in a warm (oh yes, the heater is on when I'm here alone) room with internet access, a phone and a fridge.  Nobody checks up on me, and I have no work to do.  Which means I get to blog, read, write, take care of emails, make phone calls, Skype, and watch Community.  Which is so.amazing.love.

When camp ended last week, the kids whined and asked if they could visit me this week.  I gave them an hour on Monday and Tuesday.  I have no idea if I'm breaking laws, but I assume I'm not.  Today they came in and we watched K-pop music videos.

Kpop is the Korean pop music genre.  It consists of a million all-boy and all--girl pop groups that have around eight people with the same height, body, and face (they change up hair colors).  The girls are really cutesy with long hair, big eyes, and scaryscarytiny little waists.  The boys are the same, but with shorter hair and angstier expressions.  They mostly sing about relationships, from what I can tell of the English phrases thrown in (Girl, you're my caffeine; so I love you, so I hate you...)

They've got some catchy songs.  It's pop.  Here's a Girl's Generation video called "I have a boy." 

    

 One of the extremely popular boy bands is called Beast.  (Which has made for some fun English lessons: "No, not I want to meet the Beast.  Just Beast.)  Here is their song Bad Girl.

One of my kids spazzed out when showing me a video of them.  "Handsome!  Ohhhh!"  She turned to me and pointed at the screen.  "Handsome?"

I shrugged.  "They're so little."

"What?"

"Uh.  Baby.  Baby."  I made baby rocking gestures and pointed at Beast.

"Teacher, no!  No baby!"

"Yes!"  And then I told her I was 66.  She freaked out and started jabbering to her friend who also freaked out.  They pulled up Google Translate and typed in "How old are you?"

I repeated 66, and translated "Plastic Surgery."

"???"  They pointed at my face.  I pointed at my eyes, nose, chin, and then made a waving motion over my body.

One of them typed some Korean into Google Translate.  "66, huh?"  Not a bad translation.

And then.  "Her face is 20."

I laughed.   "Thank you." 

Read more »

Adaptibility, the good, the bad, and the pretty

Throughout high school, my class was told -- as every class should be -- that we were bright, capable, full of potential, and the future was not simply in our hands; it was us.  We were also told that we were special because we had grown up overseas and had a sense of the changing world, of cultural interactions, of adaptability.  Highly adaptable, they told us.  Highly adaptable from the moving, the transitioning, the juggling of culture and language and family and streams of friends passing through. 

I've been thinking about adaptability lately, or rather, I've been thinking about what it often comes hand-in-hand with -- getting used to situations.

"Man is a creature who can get used to anything, and I believe that is the very best way of defining him."

Dostoevsky would have our adaptability define us -- not just TCKs, but everyone -- and I think few would argue that it isn't an essential part of our nature.

Pauline Chen, a surgeon, lends an interesting perspective, describing the first time she made an incision on human flesh:

Like doctors-in-training before and after me, I wrapped my fingers around the handle in a kind of death grip and winced as the belly of the blade touched the patient’s body. And as much as I’d like not to admit it, my hand shook, so great was my fear of pushing too hard and slicing too deep.   

She says this is a common initial reaction for surgeons, but that after years of practice, "cutting began to feel second nature to me, the scalpel merely an extension of my fingers."

It's a slightly disturbing idea, isn't it: Getting used to cutting live human skin.  The cringe aspect was purposeful, as she continues her article with a discussion of why the public is relaxing about goverment atrocities.  Man can get used to anything.  

Adaptibility.  On one hand, there are people adapting and thriving in new, difficult environments.  On the other, there are people becoming complacent about problems that once horrified; shrugging about distant violence, accepting with a blink the pictures of swollen stomached children that once at least stirred us enough to click the Donate Now button. 

It's a coping mechanism, a defense mechanism, an evolutionary reality, an unbelievable asset, problematic in addictions (as we adapt to our input and crave more drugs, alocohol, porn, food, power), and depressing when resultant in complacency.

Perhaps I'm using the wrong word.  Perhaps getting used to violence and thriving in a new environment shouldn't be accredited to the same source.  I don't know.

**

"I've grown accustomed to her face..."

I take things for granted.  I have to, in order to perform as a functional human.  If I were constantly thinking about how amazing my body is (wait for it), with the blood rushing, and the synapses sparking, and the nerves doing their signal sending spiel -- I wouldn't get anything done.

There's a Ted Talks about falling in love, and how the world would be a scary, awful place if the infatuation period were permanent.  Well, not scary and awful so much as unproductive.  Nobody would get anything done.  They would be writing crappy songs and driving miles to find rare flowers and spending all their money on trinkets and failing any exam or work problem that required mental energy.  OK, maybe not exactly like that...

In the same way that you have to release aspects of the puppy love phase, you also have to release constant appreciation of the wonder of the world (which you once had.  really.  watch a baby or a little kid for a while...or read Calvin and Hobbes).  The sun and the stars and the ocean and mountains and flowers and animals (animals!) and how it all fits so perfectly...you can't walk around thinking and talking about it all the time.  Socially, that doesn't work so well -- like Adam, the Asperger's title character of Adam, who strikes up intense and lengthly conversations about the Solar System as part of small talk. 

So instead of marveling over it, I live in it.  And, probably, if I were from some awful, dirty, frigid planet and came to ours, I would greatly appreciate Earth for...oh a couple months.  And then it would be routine. 

**

My point...Let's go back to the love analogy.  Sure, puppy love ends (supposedly lasts up to two years though?), but that doesn't mean you have to lose an overall sense of appreciation for the one you're with -- you don't lose the love, just the puppy.  (That didn't work...)  But sometimes it takes intentionality...rekindling the sense of awe at the beauty and craziness that we see, eat, breathe, touch...

Read more »

Ring out, wild bells

"Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
   The flying cloud, the frosty light:
   The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. "

--Tennyson



On New Year's Eve, one of Sweden's traditions is a Swedish reading of Tennyson's poem, In Memoriam, on national TV.  It's the ideal New Year poem; ringing bells to beckon in the good, flush out the bad, and give cause to hope.

2012 was an eventful year for me. I visited three new countries, moved to Korea, spent hours lost on busses and subways, made great friends, changed jobs, said goodbye to new friends, explored a foreign culture, got bruised from kickball, took on too many languages, ate jellyfish legs, learned yoga, got a cat, saw two babies come into the world via Facebook (no, not live), discovered that I can almost deal with cold weather, learned new recipes, made friends online, taught my kids to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, joined a band, got a smartphone, cut my own hair (x2), bought clothes without trying them on, survived a typhoon, discovered tights, joined a writer's group, went to a mud festival, calmed way down about flying, experienced a New Moon party on a beach in Thailand, celebrated the New Year in Hong Kong, got into Ted Talks, developed an English/Korean/hand gesture language with my co-teacher, ate a lot of pasta and banana milk shakes, and turned a quarter of a century old.

I almost wish I had numbers for you: the average amount of times I have return to my apartment because I've forgotten something, the amount of pounds of rice I've eaten in Korea, the number of bus rides I've taken, the number of times per day that I bow in greeting or thanks, the number of photos I've taken, of times I've told my kids to speak English, of shrugs I've made when people have commented on my weight, of impromptu songs sung with Asrune, of times I've tried to explain where I'm from...

The desire to quantify is simply the journalist in me who I can never quite stomp down -- always support with authority and numbers.  In this case, it's better to leave things nebulous; the best things in life can't be quantified.  (Seriously, Bhutan. with your index of happiness).

**

This year I shall say goodbye to my two homes of the past few years; my family's elegant apartment in Ostermalm, and my own little studio in Bongilcheon.  There is always a sadness and nostalgia surrounding goodbyes, but in this case, there is also great anticipation for the future.  Future adventures, locations, ideas, loves, books, foods, stories.  Stories.  My own and others.

Strandvagen, Stockholm

Seoul

Read more »

Trekking along, and a note to my future self

I had a blog where I posted almost daily for a year.  I actually think the yearly posts were over 365 because I often posted several times a day.

I was unemployed.

Actually, that's not entirely true.  I was unemployed for a few months, and then part time employed.  I think the key to consistent writing, though, is just that: consistent writing.

Today, though I have nothing exciting to say, I thought I'd post anyways, if only to try to be more consistent in my output on here. 

So:

My time in Korea is winding up.  I have less than three months left in the country, and only a month or so of actual classes to teach.  This year went by so crazy fast, that I cannot help but wonder if it will one day be a smudge on my memory -- a blurry snapshot of a pleasant, odd time.

Of course, that won't be the case because I'll have a ton of awesome blog posts reminding me of my experience.  Including today.

Dear future self,

I have chosen, at random, this day to memorialize.  You're welcome.  I wonder if your humor will have evolved to a point to find this completely stupid.  I hope so.

This morning I almost missed the bus because I didn't get out of bed until 7:30, which is technically the time I like to walk out the door.  I managed to get out at 7:40, and actually looked quite presentable.

In the afternoon we had the first real snow of the year, and the kids went crazy pointing and yelling out the window until we had to close the curtains to start class.  (After I too got a good look).  I always forget how magical snow is until it makes its first yearly appearance, blanketing everything in a layer of white and frosting the trees, glittering the air, making everything soft and light.

Enjoying the snow.

It was Wednesday today, which meant I taught three classes, totaling two hours of the total eight I spend at school.  I tried to be productive with my free time, and I got a few lesson plans done, before deciding to work on a personal writing project, before deciding that my fingers were too cold to be removed from my gloves.  So I sat, wearing my hat, mittens, three layers and a massive down coat, and I watched Freaks and Geeks on Youtube.

We were let out an hour early and I walked to the bus stop in time to see my bus pulling away.  I ran and yelled like a proper character in a movie.  I then waited 45 minutes in the blizzard, watching various buses come and go.  None of which were mine.  The bus machine that tells you when the next bus was coming was broken, so I wasn't able to leave for fear of missing the next bus.  I eventually got home later than I do on normal days.

At night I had band practice.  We were all a bit run down from the week, but still managed some weird jokes (Peanut butter?  No...) and got some music in.  Music Music Music Music, would I miss you if I were deaf?  Would I look at everyone singing and swaying and feel a sense of loss, deeper than missing out on normal sound?  Would I read the words and feel the poetry and wonder how it would sound spoken...sung?

OK, that's about all for now.  You're looking good.

-- Past Siobhan

Read more »