Second Day Crisis

Yesterday I was brimming with optimism. Today I nearly had a crying fit outside the school and sulked during dinner. I have the emotions of a pregnant woman (and apparently the figure, too—Seol Hee, one of my darling fifth graders, decided to start the year by calling me fat. Again. She’s lucky vengeful is not usually in my emotional spectrum.).

I have no idea what I’m doing this semester, beyond just trying to make it through. I have no goals—long- or short-term—no plans, no vision…I’m just winging it. And it’s not going well. And this is only the first day! Part of the problem is that there is, as usual, no direction. My co-teacher hasn’t talked to me at ALL, beyond “Hi” and a beckoning finger, dragging me to useless meetings where I’m forced to listen to lengthy speeches in Korean that I cannot follow, despite my best efforts. I’m really on my own this semester—this is becoming clear. And it’s also apparent that I’m going to have to be more wily—there is absolutely NO WAY I am giving the school another hour and a half of my time for a worthless meeting. I know that no one else finds them particularly entertaining or useful, either, but they are paid to be there. I am not, and I’m going to escape.

But I digress. My second big problem with teaching is that, given no guidelines or directions again, I’m still not sure what to do. I really should have this figured out after a year and a half, but I don’t. I’ve yet to figure out a program that really works. I think I have something good lined up for first and second grades, but I flounder in the other years. Do I go back to the book? It would be easier, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the higher-ups really want me to do that. I never was able to figure out if the kids were being tested on this material or not, but I think perhaps they were. Plus, some of them seem excited about their English books—they all brought them to class today and were poring over them. But then I remember how boring I found them. Plus, it would be admitting defeat. So…what to do? In response, I sit at my desk, pouring endless cups of tea, biting my fingernails nervously and incessantly checking my email, awaiting inspiration. It’s not coming.

How am I going to make it through 18+ weeks of this????

Oh, and to make my day even better, I arrive home (after a ridiculously large meal with the other teachers, for the second night in a row) to a guest. I’m already dreading the obligatory exchange I’ll have to endure with some farmer friend of host dad’s (they always like to give me a hard time), but no. It’s the crazy “fine farm” guy I met last December! He found me! So instead, I had to make awkward conversation with this insane man (he told me I “looks dynamite,” whatever that means…old creep) and then wonder what was going on from the sanctuary of my room. I am not sure at all if my host family knows him or if he is actually stalking me. I sincerely hope it’s the former, even though I’d have to question their judgment of friends. I really have to stop talking to strangers—or at least, I have to lie about where I live.

First Day Musings (Monday, March 3)

It’s the first day of school and I’m sitting by myself in my darkened classroom. The shades are drawn because we watched Shrek on Friday and I’ve been too lazy to pull them back up, and I don’t have the lights on because I like to think I save the Earth with all the little things I DON’T do: take showers, flush the toilet, drive, turn on lights. I’m sure it’s not significant (especially when I am simultaneously cranking the heater to warm this large room for myself), and yet…it pleases me to do my part. Or to at least think I am.

I realized today the extent to which the school’s staff has been gutted when I looked around at the opening assembly and could hardly find a familiar face. There are only four people remaining who have been with me since I came: Kim In Kyu, the former gym teacher (and now, perhaps, head teacher?) I LOVE; Kwon Sook Ja, the former fifth grade teacher (and now first grade teacher) who I also LOVE—I think she is so beautiful, in the most elegant, classy way, and she simply oozes serenity and goodness; the kindergarten teacher, whose name I still do not know; and the principal. I think two of the cafeteria ladies have been here that long, too, but it’s hard to say. I haven’t kept track of their faces that closely. And of the people who came last spring, who I’ve known a year, only three remain: ____, the former fourth grade teacher (who is, apparently, not teaching this year, but doing some other random job I wasn’t able to determine); ____, the former third grade teacher (and still is—his class is going to be a NIGHTMARE since they were already problematic and now are going to be shaped by his incompetence); and Hong ____ (or “Red Bible”), the other kindergarten teacher. And into this mix have stepped a sea of new faces—more than I think we could possibly have jobs for, but what do I know? I do know we have a new groundskeeper, a new nurse, and a new bookkeeper, and I do know many of the new teachers are actually, surprisingly, teaching. As for the rest…well, I’m sure I’ll figure it out. What I am most curious about, and most anxious about, is…who is my new co-teacher? Where is this English teacher they promised me? I didn’t hear anything about it in the bits and pieces I deciphered this morning, and certainly no one has approached me. Which is fine, except…now I don’t know anything at all. Who I will teach. When I will teach. What I will teach. I was relieved to hear I will not start today, at least, but I hope I have more reliable access to information in the future than cornering someone in the break room and haltingly stringing together absurd Korean sentences. Not to mention the fact that it hurt my dignity to receive a reply in carefully enunciated, elaborately gestured baby talk. So I’m hiding out here, wasting electricity, until lunch, when I can corner someone again, in the hopes they’ll have real answers for me.

My kids have changed so much in two months. Some of them are hardly recognizable! And it certainly doesn’t help that some of them actually are strangers—a nearby school shut down this year, so we are taking in their students. It’s fun to see them all grow up, but painful, too…they’re so cute for a while, but then by about third grade they begin to get awkward and gangly and geeky, and then they’re hopeless. I can’t even count how many of them get glasses. It seems to be a rite of passage. And the number with truly horrific haircuts…I don’t even want to count. I will never be convinced that blunt heavy bangs are a good look for a girl, or that permed hair is the way to go for a boy. One thing’s for sure—I’m not going to be taking any style critique from them!

Now it’s afternoon and I’m killing time in my room before we all go out to dinner tonight. I finally did find out who my co-teacher is—she seems nice enough, but I have serious doubts about her English ability. She is definitely NOT an English teacher—she’s teaching one of the fourth grade classes—and our two conversations (if I could even call them that) were conducted entirely in Korean/mime. In fact, everyone speaks to me in Korean these days. I suppose I shouldn’t encourage it, since I AM here to teach English, but I hate to make approaching me such a chore. I figure I should meet them on their turf, since this is Korea and everything. We’ll see what happens.

This past weekend was invigorating, but exhausting…it was all I could do to make it home last night, and I could hardly rouse myself out of bed this morning! I don’t know what it is—it could be sickness (I almost threw up on two occasions…not sure what sparked THAT), it could be physical exhaustion (I was incredibly sore after two mornings of moderate hiking…it’s frustrating to be so out of shape again, remembering how I used to bound up hills like a bear only months ago!), it could be mental fatigue (the stress of getting around rural Korea on my own)…I really don’t know. But I’m tired. At least my legs don’t hurt so much anymore.

I decided to go way south for the weekend—the southernmost tip of peninsular Korea, as a matter of fact. There were a couple provincial parks that sounded interesting down there, and I was hopeful that in this case south would equate with warmth. Well, it wasn’t terribly warm, but at least I didn’t hit too much snow! It sure can get windy on those mountainous ridges, though. Neither of these mountains were particularly large, but both were barren at the top, which is unusual for Korean mountains. Usually you can’t escape the trees—much to my torment, because I never get a view!

I spent Friday afternoon in transit—a bus, a train, a bus, and another bus took me to my destination, Daeheungsa Temple in Jeollanamdo. The temple is one of the district heads of the Jogye order, I believe, and was really quite massive. I didn’t see it until Saturday, though—it was nearly dark when I arrived, so I decided to concentrate on dinner (I hadn’t eaten much beyond a couple of delicious apples I bought at the Nonsan train station) and lodging. It turns out a popular product of the region is a particular type of mushroom which could be found in many dishes, so I was quite happy with the food selection. I had mushroom stew with a slew of side dishes that night and it was excellent. I’ve been eating so well since I’ve been back in Korea! And I spent that evening watching silly TV programs on celebrities—the only thing I could find in English. It’s funny how ridiculous they seem when you’re not accustomed to watching them. I mean, two hours of Britney and Janet before/after photos? Really? No WONDER they have weight issues! I do, too, and no one stalks me, intent on taking unflattering photos!

On Saturday I woke early and attempted to conquer the mountain. Turns out it’s not that big—it only took me three hours, even with all the stops I made. I also spent about an hour poking around the temple grounds, where I saw one prayer room overflowing with tiny jade Buddhas, all carved in different poses, all wearing identical fluorescent orange robes. It was an awe-inspiring sight, to see that wave of sameness rushing out at you. I did make a middle-aged man friend while hiking, of course, but I think he was all right. At least, I didn’t get any pedophile vibes from him. He did give me a hard time for speaking such poor Korean and hiking so slowly, but I guess it didn’t bother him too much, since he kept trying to talk to me and waited for me to make it through the rough spots (steepness + iciness = slow slow Jen). It was actually a great opportunity to practice Korean and I found myself speaking more than I usually would, responding beyond the basic answers. I know I destroyed the language in the process, but I think he understood, which was reassuring, because I did have trouble talking to him at first—he was initially hard to understand.

After hiking, I treated myself to tea in the temple shop. I couldn’t really figure out what any of them were, so I told the lady to give me the most delicious one, which I later bought for the outrageous price of 50,000 won. I think it’s the most I’ve ever spent on tea, especially considering how tiny the container is. It was a great tea, though, and locally produced, so how could I not buy it? I later found out it is the first picking of green tea (there are three in all, and each have a different flavor). The shop was really nice—I’ll have to go back someday when I have more money! And while I was there, I made some more friends—a family from Seoul was traveling for the weekend and I talked to the grandfather and grandson while they waited for Mom, Dad, and lil bro to walk up to the temple. The boy had spent two years in Houston, so he spoke English well. I hardly talked to the grandfather, but I guess he liked my face, because he gave me his card and invited me to stay with him in Seoul. I’m so touched by these random kindnesses Korean people often show me. I know a lot of it is due to my white face, but still…I’ve never gotten this warm reception anywhere, except maybe Taiwan, and I can’t think of any other place where people are so spontaneously and whole-heartedly generous. My weekends are like a series of Good Samaritan acts…people are always helping me, befriending me, and I usually don’t even have to ask. This, to me, is the singular most amazing thing about Korea.

I did venture down to the tip that afternoon (known as Ttangkkeut, but absolutely impossible for an English speaker to pronounce), and that was scenic, though it did require a few long bus rides. I accidentally ventured by a military area while strolling along the coast—oops! But no one shot me and I made it to the bus stop safely (though I did try to walk softly, and I did curse myself for buying the bright red backpack instead of the cameo one).

And then it was another few bus rides to Cheongwansan, where I planned to hike on Sunday morning. I’d been able to find little information on the place beyond a one-sentence mention in my book, so it was difficult to find, but again, a nice place once I got there. There’s not much tourist infrastructure, though…the bus stopped about a kilometer away and there was only one restaurant open when I arrived—good, because I was STARVED. This restaurant had the best sanchae bibimbap of all time…it was so good. And the place was so cute…I loved it! There weren’t any nearby motels, though, so the other people at the restaurant gave me a ride back to the main road and even found me a room (where they were reluctant to let me sleep on the floor, claiming it would be uncomfortable…however, I’ve yet to find a comfortable motel bed in Korea. At least the floor is toasty warm!).

Sunday, I hiked. Seven hundred meters up, and seven hundred down. And I wandered the country roads, because I got a little lost and I also wanted to go back to that restaurant to try the nokcha jeon (green tea pancake)…it had captured both my imagination and my tummy. So trek I did, and it was worth it…there were even mushrooms in the thing! Soooo delicious! I think the restaurant lady thinks I’m crazy, though…coming here alone, eating like an animal, walking everywhere. Maybe she’s right…what kind of person does this, really? But it does make me happy—happy enough to face the onslaught of another teaching week. Happy enough to get me through these months. Happy enough to make me consider staying in Korea (but NOT as a teacher!)…

Soju-Induced Sentimentality

Last night marked my last outing with six of my now-former co-workers—my co-teacher, Jeong Sook, is moving to a school in Daejeon, Eun Soon will be in Cheonan, Kyeong Hee Sam and Ho Seong will transfer to Buyeo, my favorite third grade teacher whose name I always forget will be at a teachers’ institute in Cheongyang, and I believe the groundskeeper is leaving as well. (I didn’t know about the last one until last night, when they all made farewell speeches…at least, I think that’s what happened! We’ll see who shows up on Monday…) We all went out for a huge meal of duck (I had egg instead), during which, predictably, we all stuffed ourselves to the point of explosion and the men got astoundingly wasted. I definitely ate more than any sane person should…my tummy was still making strange digestion noises hours later when I went to bed! But how could I resist the closing courses of roasted sweet potato (cooked in the embers of our duck-roasting fire) and nurungi (a rice porridge that I am positively addicted to but rarely have—my family eats strictly rice)? We’d gone out for lunch that day, too—back to the restaurant I’d loved the week before, and for the same meal: dwaenjangchigae baek ban (a bean curd soup with tons of vegetable side dishes). I discovered, too, that it was only 4000 won! I will definitely be bringing Mom and Beast here. I am thinking maybe it was a good thing I lost all that weight on vacation…there’s been such an abundance of good food around lately I’m bound to grow about the girth. It doesn’t help, though, that I’ve been a little down lately. I tend to feed my soul via my stomach.

Food wasn’t the only thing in abundance yesterday—emotions were high, too (perhaps this was spurred by the consumption of soju, for the women seemed remarkably composed). Toward the end of the dinner, the vice principal—a comically short, Smurf-like man—beckoned me next to him, clasped my hand, and told me, in barely recognizable English, “I love you.” And the man would not let go of my hand while he attempted to explain to me his dilemma of having a lot of thoughts, but being unable to express them in English. I’m sure he meant nothing by it, but I felt highly uncomfortable all the same. I don’t know when I’ve ever had a more awkward moment. And, of course, all of my possible saviors left at that precise moment in a mass female exodus to the door, leaving me helpless with a table full of drunk, boisterous men. But the fun did not end there—oh, no. We went to the noraebang, where I finally gave in and sang a song (“Build Me Up Buttercup”—it’s the only one whose lyrics and melody I am passably familiar with). I think they were disappointed, though, because no one else really knew it. They later decided to play “I Will Always Love You” and try to make me sing it, which was NOT going to happen…that’s only about the hardest song EVER to sing! Doesn’t Whitney have a ridiculous octave range or something?

The most surprising, and touching, part of the night for me came toward the end, when the first grade teacher, Ho Seong, told me goodbye. I have absolutely no basis for this, but I’ve always been terrified of the guy—he’s never been mean to me at all, but he’s very unapproachable, very too-cool-for-school. So imagine my shock when he takes me aside to tell me, in halting English, that he’ll miss me, that he’s always respected me as a teacher, and that I work very hard! (This last may have once been true, but not lately…not that I’ve taken to planning my lessons in the half hour before class starts for the day. I’m remorseful. I’ve got to try harder!) I’m only sorry that we had this chat in the final hour. Perhaps I should take this as a reminder to foster deeper relationships with my co-workers. The current state of affairs is quite pathetic. None of the women even told me goodbye!

Now that my co-teacher’s gone, I’m left wondering what will happen. I have no idea what or when I’ll be teaching, who I’ll be working with…Monday will definitely be a day of surprises!

Snow Day

Korea is the whitest I’ve ever seen it. Much of it has melted by now, of course, but when I woke this morning, there were at least a couple inches of snow blanketing the Hongsan hills. Regardless, I hardly expected school to be closed…and yet, it was! The caretaker met me at the gate, where he was shoveling snow, and told me, “No English.” It’s amazing to be in a place where a mere two inches can stop school—in Montana, it could be 40 below with six feet of snow and I think we’d still have school! I was quite happy to have the time off—sure, it wasn’t the best hiking weather, but I did have time to think and plan and dream while making my mark across the subdued landscape. I bused (via Buyeo) to the nearby town of Imcheon, from where I walked to Daejosa, where there is a large statue of the Buddha of the Future. I think it’s ten meters. Ten impressive, imposing meters. Evidently it’s nothing remarkable artistically—the draw is the size. I also visited the fortress next door and slid around on the walls, getting all wet in the process. And then I walked back to Hongsan—about 14 kilometers, I’d estimate. It took me two and a half hours of steady trudging. I was tired of striding by the end, but I was glad I’d decided to forgo the bus—I’d had enough of waiting around for small-town buses last weekend. Plus, I got to try out my navigation skills and was impressed I was able to identify the hills of Hongsan from a distance, coming from a direction I’d never been before. Perhaps I will become a successful navigator after all.

I was thinking as I was walking today about the sublime. Last night I read a section about sublimity in my new book, The Art of Travel, and it struck me as supremely relevant to my current quest for mountains and majestic beauty. Alain de Botton writes that
There are few emotions about places for which adequate single words exist; we are forced instead to make awkward piles of words to convey what we feel as we watch the light fade on an early-autumn evening, or when we encounter a pool of perfectly still water in a clearing.
But at the beginning of the eighteenth century, a word came to prominence by means of which it became possible to indicate a specific response towards precipices and glaciers, night skies and boulder-strewn deserts. In their presence one was likely to experience, and could count on being understood if one reported that one had felt, a sense of the sublime. (p. 159)
This is what I have been searching for: the sublime. I feel I am constantly encountering such beauty in the world, be it stark snow-covered branches against a shimmery blue sky, or massive rock shards threatening the sun, or a quiet temple nestled against a mountainside, or any number of other things I see every day and try and fail to capture with my camera. This is what makes my life worth living: that glimpse of simple beauty, of raw majesty, of unreplicable awe and amazement. In de Botton’s words: “Sublime places repeat in grand terms a lesson that ordinary life typically introduces viciously: that the universe is mightier than we are, that we are frail and temporary and have no alternative but to accept limitations on our will; that we must bow to necessities greater than ourselves” (p. 167). Is there anything more exhilarating than this humility before nature? This affirmation of inclusion, however small, in such a gorgeous world?

In the less lofty recesses of my mind, I also was thinking about this guy we encountered while hitchhiking in Taiwan. Specifically, I was regretting, again, we’d never said goodbye—we hung out for a night with this non-English-speaking, fashionably-crimped-haired guy at this resort town in the middle of nowhere, communicating via the miraculous ice-breaking powers of whiskey and karaoke, but then we never saw him again. Well, we never saw him after 9 am, when he came by, haggard and worn, woke us up, then promised to come back and didn’t. I mention this because I received a mysterious message in my inbox today, almost entirely in Chinese (excluding the greeting: “Jennifer how are you”), which I had to decipher with the help of Google Translator. I can still only recognize about 5 Chinese characters. I’m not entirely sure who it’s from, still, but I can’t imagine anyone else I met writing me in Chinese. I’m hopeful.

The one other piece of news is that I’m home alone with host dad, which is AWKWARD. We’ve always been a little weird with each other, and the male-female dynamic only complicates things. I’m sure I’m supposed to be fixing him dinner, but he beats me to it every time! I try to compensate by doing the dishes. Hopefully I won’t be kicked out of my homestay for neglecting my womanly duties!

Combating Culture Shock

I was overambitious in my planning this weekend. After some consideration and consultation with the good old Moon handbook, I decided to conquer the Yeongnam Alps, a belt of 1000m mountains ranging between Busan and Daegu, in two days of tough hiking—just what I needed, I thought, to bring clarity and purpose back into my life. I feel as though I’ve been drifting, dreamlike, in the time I’ve been back, never able to focus or really be a vibrant force anywhere. Two months of travel has disintegrated my sense of self and I am just now realizing how adrift I am. I need time to think, to theorize, and this I do best striding up a mountainside. But this time, they eluded me, and now another week of work stands between me and peace of mind.

I spent Friday afternoon journeying to Unmunsa Temple in the northernmost regions of the Yeongnam Alps, from which I planned to work my way south. However, the next morning I was informed that hiking in that area was not possible—from what I gleaned from the signs, the trails were closed, probably for maintenance, until the end of the year.

I was still hopeful I could salvage a half-day hike, but this was not to be. I was advised to reroute to Miryang and from there to another temple, a journey which would require four different buses. I missed the first one by four minutes and had to shiver through another hour waiting for another, then I had to wait there for another hour for the next bus, then I missed the stop, then I had to wait in another town for two hours for the next bus back…by 1 pm, I decided to cut my losses and get out of there. It would be far easier and more productive to return to Miryang another weekend, when I’d have two days for hiking instead of just one.

Back in Daegu, I indulged myself in Korean city life—first, with a trip to the bookstore, which left me 30,000 won poorer; then, with an hour and a half in my favorite tea shop, sipping bori cha and reading The Prince of Tides; and finally, with some twilight street snacking of mandu, pizza, corn, and sweet potatoes. Disappointment makes me ravenous. I’ve never really spent much time in a Korean city by myself before and I was surprised at how many people approached me to chat. I was interviewed twice in the bookstore and ambushed once by an older man asking for explanations of idioms in the book he was reading, Why Men Marry Bitches. He was carrying the other book in the Bitches set, too…must be a fan. So I had the pleasure of explaining to him why “My clock is ticking” would be listed as something men don’t want to hear. Only in Korea.

Back at my favorite Daegu yeogwan, I watched Seven Years in Tibet, the only remotely interesting program on TV. I have a vague memory of attempting to watch it many years ago and finding it terribly boring, so I was hesitant at first, but this time I found it riveting. It’s funny how taste can change. I suppose, too, that the material is much more pertinent to my life and interests now. I missed the first part, unfortunately, but I’m glad I was able to watch it, especially as I’m contemplating journeying to Tibetan China next summer.

Yesterday, I did get to hike a little bit through Apsan Park south of Daegu. I figure I got about six or seven miles in, though the terrain wasn’t that challenging. It certainly wasn’t the body-numbing, mind-clearing hike I envisioned, but at least the weekend wasn’t a complete waste in that respect. I did get to use my crampons on the hike down, where the trail had transformed into a sheet of ice, and skipping down it with my clattery spikes made me deliriously happy.

Hopefully these little joys will tide me over. I am afraid of becoming a culture-shock cocktail—of the fiery, destructive variety.

Full Moon Feasting and Other Entertaining Encounters

Today was a day of interesting encounters with Koreans. And just when I was feeling frustrated with my language skills…though I can’t claim to be good, at least I am able to understand these little interactions that make living here so entertaining!

First, there are my always amusing co-workers. We all had lunch downtown again—an evidently big-deal meal of various vegetables and bean rice in celebration of the first full moon of the new year—but when I asked one of the teachers what we would be having, he told me, “Maybe…rice?” Ok, we only have rice at EVERY meal, including ones that are based on noodle dishes! I don’t know when I’ve ever gotten a vaguer answer.

Then later, as we were sitting down and beginning to eat, my principal, who is sitting directly opposite me, starts a discussion with me about body types. In Korea there’s this concept of an S-line—the curves in a side view of a woman’s body make an s-shape, evidently—and today he told me not only that my S-line was good, but also my V-line and my Y-line, which I’d never heard of before. No one else had heard of the latter, either—sounds like another one of his strange theories to me, much like his sports analogies for dating at various ages given to me last spring. A V-line refers to the shape of the face (Koreans are obsessed with making their faces appear smaller), and a Y-line refers to a rear view. I guess I’m glad he’s not calling me fat or accusing me of having dozens of babies in my stomach, but it’s a little strange to know your old boss is checking out your figure under your lumpy winter clothing.

And then, of course, we get soju. At lunch. I refuse initially, only to have my favorite teacher shake his head at me and say, “No, it’s good! Delicious!” and pour me a full glass. No one drank much at all, so they consolidated the bottles and brought them back to school. God only knows what happened then…probably soju and kim in the teachers’ room. Teaching in the U.S. is going to seem so tame after the antics of my fellow teachers here!

I ducked out of the afternoon meeting to take a quick hike. I was not the only one to have this idea—for about the first time ever, I saw others on the trail—three others! I ran into the first man at the top of the first hill and we ended up hiking together. He was pretty fast for an old guy—or I’ve just gotten really slow in my months off. I could hardly keep up! We talked for a bit (boosting my conversation skills a lot—yessss…), but I guess he knew pretty much all there was to know about me already. He even pointed out my house to me! And then he proposed beer after our walk, but I had to decline. I’m trying to avoid creepy old men these days. Not that he was especially creepy, but…they all seem to get ideas, these guys. And he did tell me I should marry a Korean…

Life Conspires Against Me

As comforting as it is to be back home, with the stability of a day-to-day routine and the support of a caring Korean network, it’s overwhelming, too, to catch up on two months of life. I didn’t realize how much I missed—or how much I changed—until I was back. I’ve forgotten how to teach, I have mounds of correspondence demanding responses and way too many photos to sort through, my Korean is nonexistent, and I am unable to think because I drink tea by the liter and it keeps me up at night. I’m overwhelmed. And on top of everything, I have another big goodbye coming up that I am already dreading. I will be leaving Korea so soon—maybe not for months yet, but I’m sure it will roll around before I am ready. There’s still so much I want to do this semester—mountains to climb, festivals to experience, food to eat…there’s not time enough for it all. So I have a ton of planning to do, too, and no time to do it because I am so frazzled. I suppose it’s a good thing I have these two weeks to pull myself together before the semester REALLY starts and I freak my students out. I’m having trouble becoming reacquainted with the familiar—or perhaps, reconciling my memories of the familiar with the actualities. Reverse culture shock…it gets me every time…

Electronic Misadventures

I nearly lost my camera on a hike today. I was wandering Mansusan, a “recreational forest” near Hongsan, and realized it was missing when I tried to put my malfunctioning ipod away. And now my computer is having fits. What is happening today?!? Luckily, I did find the camera, but it involved a lot of backtracking, so I didn’t get to explore nearly as much of the mountain as I planned. I realized today I hadn’t been there since last spring sometime…I had a vague memory of attempting to pick wild berries and text Bianca the last time I walked that path. Today, unfortunately, it was barren and snow-covered. It’s hard to believe it’s been so long already! I guess I never made it back last semester because the transportation is so difficult to figure out. There are only three buses per day to Oesan, the nearest town—otherwise, I have to go to Guryeong first and it ends up taking up to two hours instead of 15 minutes. Today it worked out, though it was cold waiting for the 5:50 bus back and on the subsequent twilight walk home. Again, thank goodness for central heating at home!

Tea Party of One (A Return to Solitude)

I’m having a tea party in my room and it’s amazing. I had to reorganize all my teas and tea-related implements last night—I have so much now they will no longer fit on my desk and I had to dedicate my massive wardrobe drawer to them instead. I acquired seven new teas, two new tea sets (one for school and one that’s travel-sized), a set of carved wooden trays, a few new tea cups (including two exclusively for sniffing), and various tea snacks (tea plums, jackfruit chips, horse beans, and dates) while on my trip. Now I am busily sampling them all. Tonight I’ve been catching up on home life, trying to get my life back in order after such a long absence, while sipping on teas—first Alishan High Mountain Oolong, which was an excellent light brew, and now Darjeeling “Golden Glitter,” which is a little stronger but still good. I do prefer the lighter variety—what they call spring or first flush teas, I believe—but I do like to mix it up. It’s no fun if they all taste the same! This tea craze is getting a little out of hand, admittedly, but I figure it’s all good as long as it’s my one indulgence. I mean, tea IS good for you…I don’t know if I feel a discernible difference in my physical health, but sipping a good brew is certainly spiritually calming. Especially on a cold winter day!

Today was my first day back at school. I am definitely rusty in the teaching department—and the students are equally rusty in the learning department—but it wasn’t too bad. I’m sure it will get better as we get used to one another again. I’m teaching 16 students in grades 3-5 (soon-to-be 4-6). It was nice in a way to see them again. I found myself thinking I shouldn’t rule out teaching English entirely yet…it really is a pretty sweet job. Maybe I could do another year of this after all, though certainly not in Hongsan. I’ll need a change of scenery at least. As much as I do like the countryside, I do want a life at some point! I’m normally not much of a city person, but I find it calling me lately, if only because I’d have access to so many things there—potential friends, language classes, good food, better transportation options, other classes…it’s something to think about, certainly.

And it was surprisingly nice to see all the familiar faces at the school. However, it seems so many of them will be missing this coming year! Kyoung Hee Sam will be teaching in Buyeo, my co-teacher will be in Daejeon, Ho Seong (the first-grade teacher) will be in Buyeo, the third-grade teacher I love will be in some other district, the kindergarten teacher will be in Naesan, Eun Soon will be in Cheonan…and one teacher died a couple weeks ago. He was very old, but still…very sad. I only hope the replacements will be at least as good! I suppose it doesn’t matter much, since I’ll be leaving so soon anyway, but I am very hopeful there’ll be someone young who will be interested in being friends. It’s kind of pathetic I’ve been here so long and I have absolutely no Korean friends. I will have a new co-teacher—an English teacher, actually, which is a definite improvement!—and I hope that will work out well. I’m told she’s young and beautiful. Is kind and interesting too much to hope for?

After work I hiked the good old Hongsan ridge, my favorite climb of old. It was nice to see those rocks again! I definitely am out of shape, though, even if I am much thinner. My co-teacher actually asked me today if I was okay…evidently I look like I’ve wasted away! I doubt this will last, though, the way I’ve been gobbling down Korean food. I love it even more now after two months away!

And I'm Back!!!!

I’m back in Hongsan after a 57 day absence. It feels good to be here—I was getting tired of traveling and living out of my bag. It’s cold, but at least the skies are blue and buildings are heated! I’m sure I will survive…spring is just around the corner, after all.

I spent the weekend in Seoul, lazing around with Susie. We made a lot of tea, snacked on fruit and ddeok and kimchi and ddeokbokki, and talked. I needed some rest time before tackling the home front and all the work that awaited me. Last night we went out in Hongdae for drinks and dancing. It was fun, but I don’t think I’ll be doing that again anytime soon—I am so exhausted now and I feel like a waste of human potential. Besides, the hills are calling me. We’ve been separated so long—I’m really looking forward to hitting the Korean trails again! I have a lengthy list of places to visit this spring, and not nearly enough time to do it.

Tomorrow I start teaching again, but only the winter break class. I’ll have 15 students for a couple hours a day for the next two weeks. It’s not ideal—I’d rather be out exploring, of course!—but hopefully the classes will go well. I spent much of the day trying to lesson-plan and I am realizing I am sorely out of practice. I suppose this will be a good warmup for the coming semester.

I have so little time left in Korea, I am realizing. Only five more months! In that respect, it’s been a bittersweet reunion…I am happy to be here again, but the time we’ll have together is so short and I am already dreading leaving a bit. Perhaps I’ll have to follow the lead of Janaki and co. and make some arrangements to stick around!