You've been taughten

I realize it’s been a while since I last made a post. You see, a group of us have gotten hooked on The Office. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the sitcom, it’s like The Drew Carey Show only funny.

After doing some blog reflecting I’ve realized that I have written very little on my teaching experience thus far, which is very disproportionate seeing that it occupies about 45 hours of my week. You may be interested to know that the traditional Korean word for teacher, pronounced geyosa, originates from the hangeul language and roughly translates to, photocopying strumpet. In the teacher’s lounge I find myself always rushing to the photocopier and making a dozen xeroxes here and there. I feel like all I ever do is make copies. To ensure it doesn't become a boring task I always try and use the photocopier with the Korean touchpad, just incase some stranger is looking over my shoulder and getting very impressed with my understanding of the language (I’ve memorized all the buttons... shhhhh!).

Recently things have been going much better in the classroom. I still wish I didn’t have to spend so much time worrying about classroom management with the younger kids, but I suppose I too was obstreperous at that age. The worst is when you’re in a class with 10 unruly students and you have to get their attention. You ask for everyone to focus and that doesn’t work, so you start by saying the names of each student individually: “Jenny eyes up front please, Sarah paying attention okay?, Dylan, James, Edward can you stop that, Michael, Leslie, Olivia, Jessica sitting in your seat please, Annie, good.” And by the time you’ve said “Annie,” Jenny has now become distracted by her pencil case, Dylan is picking his nose and the name game is afoot all over again. But for all of the bad things there are an equal number of good things (that's so Buddhist). One of my favourite things about the younger classes occurs when I mention the word "partners."
“Okay, so now we’re going to get into partners and practice our speaking.” At this point, all the girls are waving across their desks and pointing back and forth at each other like they’ve got an unabating palsy. They're so excited they can no longer speak in sentences, all that stutters out of their mouths is "me, you, me, you, me, you, you, me, me." The girls are not to be outdone by the boys though. Many of the young lads have strong bonds with their partners as well. They'll turn to their friend and give them a bear hug so tight you’d need the jaws of life to pry them apart. It just might be the most adorable thing in the world. So sometimes, when I am feeling a little low because of classroom management problems, I like to announce that we will be getting into partners so I can observe this precious ritual. “Oh, actually no, we don’t need partners just yet, sorry everyone.” (But really I am not sorry....shhhh.)

I also have older students and the other day, in arguably the most advanced class in the school, I almost broke out in tears. I was checking their homework; they had to use the conjunctions (conjunkie-what-tees?), "but", "though", "where", "because", and "so", and make their own complex sentences. All of the students in this class have spent a year living in the United States and travelling the world (all six of these 12 year-olds have been to at least 4 different countries in the world, and they’ve all been to New York City, The Grand Canyon and California). One girl in this class tries so hard to complete her homework, and spends many more hours studying than her counterparts so that she can match her other classmates. She’s a lamb of a student, and is so polite and respectful. If she didn't worry so much about the self-imposed burden she put on herself, she'd be answering questions all of the time and reading so much more strongly. Anyway, I was reading through her conjunction homework and came across the following sentences, “I try so hard, but it never enough,” and then two sentences later, “I can’t run very fast because I am heavy.” I almost broke down in front of the class. I didn't feel like teaching for the rest of the day because I was so despondent. I was also upset at the utter cruelty and insanity of a world that makes someone – a 12 year old no less – feel this way. While this is a sad account, it does demonstrate my favourite part of the job. I love having aproximately 60 students with whom I get to slowly learn new traits and characteristics about each and everyday. It’s a great thing walking into the classroom, and challenging yourself to try to connect with each one of them and gain greater insights into who they are, and then trying to use that knowledge to make them better people and educate them.

Below are some photos of my recent weekend travels. Some of the pics were taken in Seoul and some are from a lantern festival in a town called Jinju, about four hours southeast of Seoul.



Silkworm larvae. A Korean delicacy that no one who isn't playing Survivor should ever think about eating.


It's always Survivor time for Horse. 24-7


The Korean way to leave your mark and say, "Mike was here." or "Sarah and Tony 4 ever."


What would happen if David Suzuki quit his day job.

Licentiously,

Me

Eclectic Entries

When you’re in a foreign country that’s similar to the one you come from in many ways, and yet so different in others, it’s the little things that begin to irk you. The other day I was shopping for soap in a store identical to those in North America. The soaps were easy to recognize by their characteristic boxes and shapes; the only difference was the fragrances. I was looking for an invigorating and manly bar – something that screamed shirtless man in Ireland, whittling away at green slabs of lye – and instead I found things like green tea, cucumber and charcoal. It’s the almost insignificant things like this that can ruin your day. I guess I shouldn’t complain though, it’s probably much harder for a Korean to shop for soap in North America. Can you imagine being confronted with bars that have names like Icy Blast, Ocean Surf, Arctic Mist, Fresh Rush and Aqua Sport? Those aren’t fragrances, they’re snippets of poetry. Poor immigrants, “Okay Minho, don’t panic, there’s a lot of choices, just relax and think: how would the cucumber soap play this one?”




Another little thing that gets to me here in Korea are the cookies. They taste the exact same, the only problem is, they’re individually wrapped. This is devastating to someone who’s used to eating oreos by the sleeve. I was surprised that Korea, a country which is quite environmentally conscious, would allow unneccessary packaging. While it’s bad for the environment, I must say, it’s been quite good for my waistline. Come to think of it, individually wrapped cookies might even be saving the world; coronary bypass surgery probably has a huge carbon footprint.


It must be said that not all these little Asian idiosyncrasies are bad. Koreans love to use cartoons to market things and this always makes my day a little brighter. This past weekend I stumbled across a condom vending machine that had elected to promote their product with cartoon condom characters. Carl the condom says, “Treasure your life, stop AIDS.” I think my favourite part of the composition is the couple canoodling at the base of the latex glove in the lower right corner. The guy giving a high-five to the condom is a pretty awesome touch too. I also enjoy the green, female looking condom. I don’t mean to generalize, but I think it’s safe to assume that no male would ever personify his condom as a female. I mean boats, cars and baseball gloves are obviously shes, but unless your French (because then it’s le condom), I can’t imagine a prophylactic sheath being thought of as female. Especially on the outside of a vending machine in a park bathroom.

This weekend I stayed in Seoul and spent some much needed time with my co-workers. On Saturday I decided to wander around the city and soak up some of the sights, sounds, smells and, most memorably, touches of the place I call home. After a bit of a hike I found myself walking through a market that wouldn’t pass a health inspection in North America. There weren’t many people around and besides the vendors I think I may have been the only person there. (I later discovered that a massive corporate department and grocery store had opened up in the neighbourhood, and all but ruined the once thriving bazaar). Each turn in the labyrinth like market revealed a more remote, grungier and intriguing part of the shopping area. After about an hour of exploring, I came across a small clothing stall that was selling zip-up hoodies. In this stall there were shirts hanging everywhere and clothes stacked to the roof, as there was in every clothing vendor at this market. Upon showing an interest in the merchandise, a friendly, 60 year-old, Korean man, bursting with gaiety, appeared from behind the hanging sweatshirts. He was very excited to see me, as business was slow, and asked me to come inside and peruse all of his goods. He looked up at me with his watermelon slice smile and said “bigger,” while gesturing with his hands that I was much taller than him. I corrected his English and said “Taller. Yes, I am much taller.” All the while, we were both sniggering because of the awkwardness and confusion. He then lightly grabbed my arm, pulled me closer and correctly said “taller.” At this point I thought he was trying to measure us “back to back” only “front to front.” It seemed like a plausible scenario although there was something a little awry; his hand was firmly on my butt and he was pressing me up against him. I stood there thinking that perhaps he was unaware of where his hand laid. I thought that he was probably just happy to see a foreigner that had managed to navigate his way this far into the market, and was being extremely friendly because... and that’s when his hand cupped my genitals. I politely declined, said "no, no, no, no," freed myself from his embrace and left.



Now it’s a bit of a shame that I tell this story, but it is the way of the blog and life in general. I’ve been helped, guided and directed by countless kind individuals while in this country. Why just this afternoon, a lady at the post office showed me the utmost kindness and civility, but her mannerisms are not worthy of note. Instead, it is the pejorative man who concaved my junk that is the tale to tell. Now whenever Seoul, or Asian street markets are mentioned you’ll all be quick to recall that someone you know got the Michael Jackson treatment while in a lonley stall.

With burning embers of desire,

Ian

Taiwan ROCked

For Chuseok, Korean Thanksgiving, me and four other SLP teachers left Korea, a country which technically is always at war with its next door neighbour and could conceivably be attacked by nuclear weapons at any moment, and headed for Taiwan, a country which is technically always at war with its next door neighbour and could conceivably be attacked by nuclear weapons at any moment. I am thinking Iran, or maybe Syria for my next vacation, although I wouldn’t want to rule out Venezuela completely.

To give everyone the cole’s notes, in 1949 the Nationalist Chinese government (KMT) and the Chinese Communist Party were involved in a civil war in mainland China. When the battle was over, about 2 million people, many of whom were military personnel, Nationalist politicos and business-persons, refuged to Taiwan and thought they’d give a little something called capitalism a shot. Communist China didn’t take too kindly to this and considered (and still do to this day) this part of their Republic a “renegade province.” Mainland China reserves the right to bring Taiwan under control by any means necessary, including militarily action, despite the fact that the Taiwanese have their own democratically held elections and are all but independent. Five days before we left for Taiwan, the county’s bid to have a seat in the UN was thwarted by the General Assembly. Wang Guangya, China’s full-time, permanent UN representative averred, “The Taiwan question is purely an internal affair of China... Although China is not yet united, the fact the both Taiwan and the mainland belong to one and the same China has never been changed.” (And you thought this blog was all hot dog toasters and espying naked Koreans in spas). Of course not an ounce of this crossed our minds as we took to the city of Taipei for five days; I think the photos and accompanying stories will attest to this, but that’s the recent history of this island.


Thanks Lonely Planet, you called it.


Taipei 101. (Three gold stars to anyone who can guess how many floors it is). The tallest skyscraper in the world, until Dubai and it's oil filthy hands complete their 152 story, 1853 foot building in 2008.
P.S. Come 2008: take a seat C.N. Tower


Longshan Temple. Thanks Buddha. Keep on keeping.

The first night was spent at The Source, one of the handful of gay clubs in the city, because we were assured by Frederick, a man who’s lifestyle takes him to these types of clubs often, that we would have a good time. I guess there was a little part of me that wondered what might happen if things got out of hand, uncomfortable and guys started to hit on me uncontrollably (hey you never know, it could happen). Apparently, I didn’t have to be concerned with too much propositioning because I was drinking beer and that’s got “straight” written all over it. Turns out that the club was all but empty because of the full moon holiday in Taipei, so we had the whole dance club to ourselves. We poured our own drinks, powered up the DJ equipment and took turns spinning our own private party until the wee hours of the morning.


Just bust a move. Is that boy in the blue shirt raising the roof? Oh dear.


This club had stripper poles all over the place and while I probably wouldn't be hired by the Chip'n'Dales, I think Spiderman might be giving me a shout sometime soon.

On the third day we woke up bright and early and headed to Taroko National Park to enjoy the Taroko Gorge. Upon arriving we rounded up 14 other tourists and hired two 12 seater vans to take us on a tour of the Park. Our tour guide charged us $600 TD (about $20 Canadian... and American (oh snap!)) each for 6 hours of van time, a tour of his jade and marble shop, lunch, which was served in the restaurant attached to his jade shop, and a ride back to the train station in his deluxe coach bus, which picked us up from his jade and marble shop / restaurant. (That capitalism stuff I mentioned earily is catching on in this country). When we arrived at the train station we were informed that there was only standing room left for all returning trains back to Taipei, so we bit the bullet and got ready for being erect. Before getting on the train we bought a deck of cards to help make the three hours more enjoyable. Our train car had a group of Taiwanese teens (who didn’t speak any English) and eventually I started to perform some magic for them. It was great to do card and coin tricks for them while bridging the language barrier.


Buddha's like McDonalds around here. If you need a Big Mac and a place to discover the Four Noble Truths then Taiwan is the place. A Buddhist temple deep in the heart of Taroko Park.


The Taroko Gorge and a perfect photo for the Outdoor Life Network.


A monument built to comemerate the 241 people who died building the scenic road along the gorge.


Posing for a photo with a fan of magic. The train was packed. It wasn't Mumbai, but one could definitely use a sardine simile if they felt like being banal.


I thought the museum was a tad boring. Apparently I wasn't the only one.


The Grand Hotel, once one of the 10 best hotels in all the world, certainly lived up to its name. When you're this big they call you Grand.


Treating ourselves to classy drinks in the lobby of the Grand Hotel. I decided to whet my whistle with a snifter of Johnnie Walker, the finest whiskey Scotland has to offer. When in Rome... right?

All in all, the trip was a terrific 5 days of fun, education and tourism. A wonderful group of us just became that much closer after our five days in Formosa (Portuguese for beautiful island).

UN for Taiwan. Peace forever.

With my all my heart,

Chief (and Hankie)

Brief relief!

I am not sure what took me so long to realize it, but I’ve finally analogized that my journey is akin to a poor Korean boy from a small town being dropped in the middle of New York City, except that Seoul has 2 million more people... in half the space. I also realized this weekend, that to say you know New York state because you’ve been to the Big Apple is heresy because it neglects, the Catskills, the Finger Lakes, Niagara Falls and Buffalo – well, not Buffalo (Buffalo’s kinda like Beefaroni on an authentic Tuscan menu). This weekend I got away from the city and found that the majority of this country is gorgeous limestone cliffs and rolling mountains, endlessly blanketed with trees.


Korea outside of Seoul.

This weekend I met up with some fellow McMaster alumni. Dana, whom I have met a few times in my university days and Mona, whom I had never met, got together and enjoyed life in Donghae, a smaller, industrial town on the east coast of the country. I learned that in the smaller towns there are many stares and children simply adore you because of the colour of your skin. This makes a bit of sense considering the country is estimated to be about 99% homogeneous. On the local bus a group of 12 year old girls in school uniforms were very excited by my presence and immediately asked me to sit beside them at the back of the motorcoach. Had this been 1993 it may have been the greatest moment in my life. I must admit, it was fun to experience a moment in the day of the life of 98 Degrees, Avril Lavigne or a puppy brought in for show and tell.

All the children love to try their English on the foreigners: "Hello. Pleased to meet you." A couple of times there was even an "I love you," spoken from the safety of the other side of the street, followed by the blissful sound of children’s laughter. To most ESL teachers this is a very common occurrence and nothing worth noting, but as a Seoulian, I guess my skin colour isn’t as much as a spectacle or a rarity as in smaller towns.

The three of us kicked the night off with a few drinks and some singing at a noraebang, a personalized karaoke room for up to about 10 people. After some melodies, we decided that nothing would be better than finishing up the night with a 3 am trip to a jjimjilbang (a building with sultry saunas for people to enjoy at any time of the day or night). There are two parts to the jjimjilbang; a public, male and female room made for relaxing and saunaing and then there are private, male- and female-only rooms filled with hot tubs, cold tubs and more saunas. The single-sex rooms have only one requirement – nakedness (sorry, or thankfully, depending on who you are, but there won’t be any photos of this on the blog). Stereotypes and old wives tales had me believing that I would be a redwood in a forest of young saplings, relatively speaking of course, but as a curious (and honest) man I must say that Korean heads aren’t hanging... but some other anatomical parts are.

A night at the Noraebang quickly taught me: A) I can't sing B) I am a chorus whore who just mumbbles over the verses.

The next day the three of us ventured over to Hwanseondonggul and explored one of the largest caves in Asia. As someone who enjoys a good spelunk every now and again, this cave certain didn’t disappoint. Inside were cathedral-sized caverns, waterfalls, cascades and enough stalagmites and stalactites to force a geologist to retire from the field for she/he couldn’t possibly trump the experience.



I felt sorry for the inventor of the camera on this day because his wonderful contraption will never be able to capture the sights of the Hwanswongonggul cave.

Later on that night we treated ourselves to a much deserved Korean feast. We found a quaint, little family owned restaurant that required us to sit on the floor -- a standard Korean practice. It’s proper etiquette for the men to sit crossed legged, while the women are allowed to sit in either the cross-legged position or with their legs to the side. Korean dining isn’t a quick in-and-out experience and so after about 15 minutes of being in the lotus position, I begin to seriously ache. (If only I’d majored in duck, duck, goose. Not only would it be good for my current sitting predicament but I’d probably have more job opportunities than I do with this English degree). Ideally, I would be able to hide my legs under the table and hope for the best, but the dining tables aren’t high enough for such lethargy, so I usually end up putting my legs to the side. On this night, the kind Korean man sitting next to me tapped me on the foot about 45 minutes into the meal and told me to "man up." Of course it was said in Korean, and with joculairty, but the message was loud and clear: "pussy." It’s so easy for Koreans to sit in this position because they’re released from the womb sitting cross legged (and you thought getting the shoulders out was the toughest part). But that man can't understand, I am so tall, and genetically inflexible, and my hair was in my eyes, and my dog ate my homework, and on top of all that, it’s my first day on the job.

Benevolently,

E. Stiffy

I don't smell... odor I??

Either there is something in the food that is opening my pores and making me sweat, or there's something in the air that's opening my nasal passage. Regardless, I stink; and they don't have deordorant sticks here, because Asians have fewer apocrine glands (the kind that make one reek) than other non-Asian folks.

Also, ever notice how French rhymes with stench; coincidence? I pose that it is not!

Whole heartedly,

Ianinski

Sue boo way stat tea on?

"Sue boo way stat tea on?" Imagine you’re spending a day in your nearest, major, North American, metropolitan city and a conspicuous foreigner came up to you and utter those words. You’d be dumbfounded to say the least. Yet, this is basically how I spent much of my weekend, as I explored Seoul with BK, a terrific friend who was in the neighbourhood. The Korean pronunciation for a subway station, or "sue boo way stat tea on" for the phonetically impaired, is "jihacheol yeok," a word which by nature is designed to be butchered by foreigners. The two of us spent much of our Saturday and Sunday walking up to complete strangers and flubbing the Korean language by grunting out the words "jihacheol yeok" and talking monosyllabically like cavemen (or cavepeople for those of you who are for gender equality. Although thinking about it, I bet if one wanted to get historically accurate it would be more correct to say cavewomen. Please, come join me on my tangent. The males who lived during the "caveman" era spent most of their time out of the cave hunting and scavenging, and, in fact, it was probably the women who spent a significant amount of time in caves. So perhaps cavewomen should be the more correct term, seeing has how they are the ones who spent the majority of the time in caves. Don’t worry, I’ll contact the fine lexicographers at Webster’s and Oxford and run it by them).


Seoul at dusk. She's a big one!

BK, a fellow Grand Canyon traveller, is also teaching here in Korea for a year and decided he would take the four hour bus ride to experience the lunacy that is Seoul. (I feel like I have more friends visiting me on the other side of planet then I did back home). I’ve been married to my Lonley Planet, Seoul edition since purchasing it last weekend, and I hoped that I could delude BK and make him believe that I was a competent tour guide who knew the intricacies of my home city.

Me cuddling with my Lonely Planet Seoul.... Slip it the tongue!

On Saturday night we scaled, after a little bushwhacking, the 262 m high Namsan hillock, which is home to Seoul Tower and provides an amazing, panoramic view of the Seoul skyline. On Sunday we went to Bongeunsa, "a thousand-year old Buddhist temple at the heart of Seoul" as the ESL pamphlet so adequately put it. It really was quite profound to walk through the gates of this temple and all but escape the busyness of a city that is comprised of 10.7 million people. BK and I spoke very little, walked slowly, and spent much of our morning just sitting on prayer mats with our eyes closed and our minds dancing. In a world where humans try and do everything quicker: speed walk, speed date, eat fast food, etc. it’s such a contrast and refreshing change to slow down and almost come to a complete stop.
A buddhist temple, plop in the middle of Seoul.



BK and I on a bicycle built for two in Olympic Park. Quite the romantic date... Slip him the tongue?

Afterwards we headed to Olympic Park, the home of the 1988 Olympic games. Naturally, as Canadians we paid our homage to the place where Ben Johnson made history so many years ago. For those of you don’t remember, Ben Johnson’s 100 metre, 9.79 second sprint was, as the kids say these days, dope. The Peace Gate at Olympic Park.

BK and I also learned a valuable lesson this weekend. Of the 5 or 6 strangers we asked for directions, how to get to the nearest "sue boo way stat tea on", or to take our photo, all of them spoke very fluid English. We would try our best to speak Korean – many of them complimented BK on his pronunciation – yet every time the natives responded to our questions in English. This is an important thing to have realized because I, quite ignorantly, assumed that people in this country can’t understand me when I am having a conversation with other English speaking people. Many times in the subway or on the street I’ve found myself using the occasional curse word inappropriately and not at curse word volume because I assume that nobody else can understand. Yet, as I learned this probably isn’t case. Also, it’s internationally known that when learning a new language the swear words are one of the first things you're told. So thanks solely to my poor behaviour there are a few Koreans out there thinking, "rude American."

Tenderly,

Ian "slip it the tongue" Horsewood

Overwhelmed!

I think everyone can admit that James Bond and I share many of the same qualities: the chiselled pecs, the lascivious British charm, a thirst for danger and perhaps most obviously our ability to "rise" to the occasion with international women. But, the Bond skill I could most use right about now is 007's ability to instantly melt into foreign countries. Bond seemingly knows every custom, tradition, language and way to act in every situation. He doesn’t pick up a bowl of rice off the table to serve himself because he knows that in Korea it’s impolite.

The last six days have been, in a word, overwhelming. I have had to learn to say things like "hello" and "thank you" in Korean, discover the city, figure out how to live in a city (Seoul ain’t no Greensville), remember student’s names, learn how to be a teacher, figure out lesson plans, move into my own place, learn to order and buy food so that I don’t die, and befriend my other foreign teaching colleagues.

I moved into my own bachelor pad on Thursday morning, after David, the teacher I am replacing went home to Canada. I only briefly got to meet my predecessor, but he seemed like a fine fellow. He had a impeccable sense of fashion, enjoyed going to the gym and drinking protein shakes, and is part of the queer community. (I wouldn't mention the last point if it didn't have some relevancy... read on). David asked me if he should throw out some of the clothes he wasn’t taking back with him, or if I would be okay with him leaving them for me to sort through. Being the frugal folk that I am, and because he seemed quite rushed, I told him not to worry about his apparel. I had the pleasure to go through his remaining wardrobe and sort through it. While some of the clothes didn’t quite fit, I have definitely expanded my fashion horizons; this is my first step away from nothing but blue shirts.

If only it was a little tighter...

My first day of teaching was anything but smooth. My very first class on Thursday was devastating. I arrived with the wrong phonics book and stared blankly at 14, seven year-olds, who could only understand very simple sentences and small words. I, a grown man, was owned by seven year-olds for 50 minutes and now on Tuesday I have to go and show them I am boss and not a complete boob... although the latter may be up for debate regardless of outcome.

I am also trying to adjust to living in a concrete jungle. Take a look at the Google earth image of where I live. The major road running north and south is the one I take each day to get to school. I dare you to find an open space.

Mail carriers have nightmares about places like this.

This past weekend, my old university roommate, Jenn, visited me in Seoul after recently completing her year long teaching stint about three hours outside of the city. It was wonderful to see one of my dearest friends for the first time in over a year. She blew me away with her knowledge of the city and Korea. She helped me out tremendously and I am so proud of her Korean eruditeness. If I learn and accomplish a fraction of what she has, I will feel successful.

Jenn and I polish off a bottle of soju (Korean vodka made from sweet potatoes)... at breakfast.

I still feel reluctant to comment on my experience and the Korean culture so far, as I don’t want to make any rash conclusion. I also feel like I’ve been zoned out since I arrived. For example, one of my fellow English teachers asked me at dinner, "So, how old are you?" I replied, "No... I mean yes. I mean... I am sorry." I still have much to absorb; I see things and am unable to ask myself questions or determine what I feel about this or that due to being so overwhelmed by every sight, smell, touch, sound and taste.

With utmost passion,

Ian Teacher