Friday, November 09, 2007
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
A Birthday to Rival All Others
First, I'd like to say that I have the best.friends.ever. I had really been looking forward to my 24th birthday. It's my first birthday living on my own and living in Seoul. Thus, the possibilities were endless. My goal was to make the celebrations a weekend-long event, and I'm proud to say, "Mission accomplished."
I. Shopping
It all began with shopping. Yes. You read correctly. I WILLINGLY went shopping. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, my Korean class is held at Ewha University. That area is buzzing with shops, young women, and emasculated boyfriends. (It's rare to see a boy NOT carrying a girlfriend's purse there.) I wanted to buy a birthday outfit, which included but was not limited to a coat and scarf. Margaret and Janaki met me at Coffee Bean, and we set out.
First stop, a coat shop. Success! I bought a coat that is, if I don't mind saying, "city style." I definitely look more grown up, if only because this is an adult half-trench coat rather than the worn-out wrinkled fleece I throw on in the morning. Step one to becoming Korean-ified. It was around this time that I knew the three of us were a shopping match made in heaven. I can't imagine what we looked like to the sales staff, but images of flighty birds come to mind. The worker gave me a free grape drink because it was my birthday and a $5 discount because they were ready to close.
Second stop, a coat for Margaret. Success! It has cute round buttons. Third stop, scarves. Success! "Holy crap. Is it possible that I'm actually having success shopping?" I thought.
But the awesomeness didn't end there. The next day, the three of us went out in our "city outfits" to...do more shopping. We wanted clubbing clothes. As we left the apartment, across the street they were filming some sort of Korean drama. The set consisted of a bus, an actor, and a bunch of extras. We watched for a few minutes while they repeated the 10 second scene 5 times. Acting sucks. I'd hate to be that guy, walking up to the bus again and again, only to have to do it again because an extra sneezed. We didn't recognize the main actor, but that's not surprising. All I know is he was tall, effeminate and wearing make-up. That doesn't narrow the field.
In the end, we spent all day looking at clothes in various locations. Janaki bought a Korean shirt-dress with sparkly leggings. It's now her official Korean outfit because we're pretty sure that people at home won't understand.
II. Bars
Korean fashion in tow, we hit the town. The party started at Dos Tacos with potato burritos and margaritas. It's rare to find good Mexican food in Korea, and this place had guacamole...and margaritas. Next stop, an indie bar in the artsy/creative bar district. The great thing about this place was that it had a sign welcoming "Residents and aliens." It was a lucky find because it's not a typical Korean bar. You don't have to order food. Women smoke. The bartender encourages foreigners to come in. I'm not going to be spreading the word too much though. I want to keep it the way it is. When we entered, various misunderstood and brooding struggling artists dotted the eclectic landscape. Customers draw all over the walls and people leave you alone. It was made even better by the apple wine drink we ordered.
Next stop: The Ho Bar. Yes. The Ho Bar. Actually, we hit up the Ho Bar original. There are something like 10 Ho Bars around. And yes, they do exist.
{Tip for readers: when it's your birthday, buy a cake, carry it around, and get lots of free stuff.}
The Ho Bar plays this awesome Korean-rock-birthday song and flashes strobe
lights when you light the birthday candles on your cake. This draws the attention of everyone in the bar and gets you even more free drinks. Always give them cake in return. As luck would have it, the guy next to us bought us...Budweisers. Because, obviously, all foreigners drink Bud, an elite beer in Korea. We gave that table half of the cake.
The Ho Bar staff gave me a flaming shot of Kahlua and something else. I wasn't quite sure what it was ... because it was ON FIRE. I had to drink it in a straw before the straw caught on fire and melted. It was yummy. I then gave more cake to one of the really cute waiters...should've gotten his number. He came over and shook my hand to wish me a happy birthday personally...maybe next time...
Janaki, Margaret, and I got our polaroid taken, and are now fixtures on the Ho Bar's wall.
A guy from the table next to us was a snowboarder and wanted to talk to us. Throughout the course of the conversation, it was obvious he was single and looking for a girl. However, language barriers can complicate things. For example, he called Margaret a Korean word that translates to "treacherous, wicked" and me a "princess." "I like princess," he said. Luckily, we've devised a system to tell each other when we disapprove of boys and are ready to move on. We simply mention Steve. That's the cue to go. Not long after treacherous Margaret was taken aback, and I had pawned off our remaining cake to the rest of the waiters, Janaki used the Steve card. Actually, I believe her exact words were, "Let's Steve this joint." So, I'm pretty sure we broke his snowboarding heart. I'm also pretty sure that he couldn't remember his heart was broken the following morning.
III. Clubbing
Usually, Korean clubs are hopping on Saturday nights. Somehow, we managed to pick a near-deserted one. We paid 15,000 won, so we didn't want to leave. Turns out, it was a good choice to stay because we had room to dance. The DJ played some great music. The best part, however, was the bartender. We told him it was my birthday. He gave us free Jack Daniels shots. Wait. It gets better. This particular bartender must've been really bored. There weren't many people in the club. So, after we took the shots, he grabbed a bottle of something himself, and guzzled. Ok, he must be cool with drinking on the job. But no. Instead of swallowing the booze, he SPIT FIRE. He became a human flame thrower. He lit a bottle of something on fire, then started spinning it in all directions: over the shoulder, around the back, in the air. Yep. He was pretty much awesome. I asked if he was there everyday. He is. I'm going back.
A group of Koreans invited us to after-clubbing drinks. We had been dancing with them and they seemed nice enough. We had kiwi soju (the best flavor of soju) and some plate of food that I don't remember. We talked about...stuff. Actually, I don't remember much of what we talked about. I do remember trying to explain why I love my Korean students...in Korean. They were confused. My Korean is terrible. Hahaha. We didn't have to "Steve" that joint, but were kicked out by the staff because it was...6 AM. Yep. We said our goodbyes, hopped in a taxi, then slept like babies.
IV. Musical Sunday, we slept in, then ran to the longest-running musical in Korea. It's called Line 1 (named after the subway line) and is a rock musical accompanied by a live 5 piece rock band. Oh, and we literally ran to the show. It was clear across town, and the traffic was terrible. We must've looked ridiculous, frantically searching for the theater. We even stumbled into an anti-FTA demonstration, where we politely asked for directions. The demonstrator smiled at us and set us in the right direction. Gotta love Koreans.
Thus, an epic birthday came to a close. I've never had so much fun in my life. The only casualties of the shebang were Margaret's scarf (MIA), our clothes (smelled like essence-of-clubbing), and my knees, which were incredibly sore from dancing.
BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!
I. Shopping
It all began with shopping. Yes. You read correctly. I WILLINGLY went shopping. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, my Korean class is held at Ewha University. That area is buzzing with shops, young women, and emasculated boyfriends. (It's rare to see a boy NOT carrying a girlfriend's purse there.) I wanted to buy a birthday outfit, which included but was not limited to a coat and scarf. Margaret and Janaki met me at Coffee Bean, and we set out.
First stop, a coat shop. Success! I bought a coat that is, if I don't mind saying, "city style." I definitely look more grown up, if only because this is an adult half-trench coat rather than the worn-out wrinkled fleece I throw on in the morning. Step one to becoming Korean-ified. It was around this time that I knew the three of us were a shopping match made in heaven. I can't imagine what we looked like to the sales staff, but images of flighty birds come to mind. The worker gave me a free grape drink because it was my birthday and a $5 discount because they were ready to close.
Second stop, a coat for Margaret. Success! It has cute round buttons. Third stop, scarves. Success! "Holy crap. Is it possible that I'm actually having success shopping?" I thought.
But the awesomeness didn't end there. The next day, the three of us went out in our "city outfits" to...do more shopping. We wanted clubbing clothes. As we left the apartment, across the street they were filming some sort of Korean drama. The set consisted of a bus, an actor, and a bunch of extras. We watched for a few minutes while they repeated the 10 second scene 5 times. Acting sucks. I'd hate to be that guy, walking up to the bus again and again, only to have to do it again because an extra sneezed. We didn't recognize the main actor, but that's not surprising. All I know is he was tall, effeminate and wearing make-up. That doesn't narrow the field.
In the end, we spent all day looking at clothes in various locations. Janaki bought a Korean shirt-dress with sparkly leggings. It's now her official Korean outfit because we're pretty sure that people at home won't understand.
II. Bars
Korean fashion in tow, we hit the town. The party started at Dos Tacos with potato burritos and margaritas. It's rare to find good Mexican food in Korea, and this place had guacamole...and margaritas. Next stop, an indie bar in the artsy/creative bar district. The great thing about this place was that it had a sign welcoming "Residents and aliens." It was a lucky find because it's not a typical Korean bar. You don't have to order food. Women smoke. The bartender encourages foreigners to come in. I'm not going to be spreading the word too much though. I want to keep it the way it is. When we entered, various misunderstood and brooding struggling artists dotted the eclectic landscape. Customers draw all over the walls and people leave you alone. It was made even better by the apple wine drink we ordered.
Next stop: The Ho Bar. Yes. The Ho Bar. Actually, we hit up the Ho Bar original. There are something like 10 Ho Bars around. And yes, they do exist.
{Tip for readers: when it's your birthday, buy a cake, carry it around, and get lots of free stuff.}
The Ho Bar plays this awesome Korean-rock-birthday song and flashes strobe
lights when you light the birthday candles on your cake. This draws the attention of everyone in the bar and gets you even more free drinks. Always give them cake in return. As luck would have it, the guy next to us bought us...Budweisers. Because, obviously, all foreigners drink Bud, an elite beer in Korea. We gave that table half of the cake. The Ho Bar staff gave me a flaming shot of Kahlua and something else. I wasn't quite sure what it was ... because it was ON FIRE. I had to drink it in a straw before the straw caught on fire and melted. It was yummy. I then gave more cake to one of the really cute waiters...should've gotten his number. He came over and shook my hand to wish me a happy birthday personally...maybe next time...
Janaki, Margaret, and I got our polaroid taken, and are now fixtures on the Ho Bar's wall.
A guy from the table next to us was a snowboarder and wanted to talk to us. Throughout the course of the conversation, it was obvious he was single and looking for a girl. However, language barriers can complicate things. For example, he called Margaret a Korean word that translates to "treacherous, wicked" and me a "princess." "I like princess," he said. Luckily, we've devised a system to tell each other when we disapprove of boys and are ready to move on. We simply mention Steve. That's the cue to go. Not long after treacherous Margaret was taken aback, and I had pawned off our remaining cake to the rest of the waiters, Janaki used the Steve card. Actually, I believe her exact words were, "Let's Steve this joint." So, I'm pretty sure we broke his snowboarding heart. I'm also pretty sure that he couldn't remember his heart was broken the following morning.
III. Clubbing
Usually, Korean clubs are hopping on Saturday nights. Somehow, we managed to pick a near-deserted one. We paid 15,000 won, so we didn't want to leave. Turns out, it was a good choice to stay because we had room to dance. The DJ played some great music. The best part, however, was the bartender. We told him it was my birthday. He gave us free Jack Daniels shots. Wait. It gets better. This particular bartender must've been really bored. There weren't many people in the club. So, after we took the shots, he grabbed a bottle of something himself, and guzzled. Ok, he must be cool with drinking on the job. But no. Instead of swallowing the booze, he SPIT FIRE. He became a human flame thrower. He lit a bottle of something on fire, then started spinning it in all directions: over the shoulder, around the back, in the air. Yep. He was pretty much awesome. I asked if he was there everyday. He is. I'm going back.
A group of Koreans invited us to after-clubbing drinks. We had been dancing with them and they seemed nice enough. We had kiwi soju (the best flavor of soju) and some plate of food that I don't remember. We talked about...stuff. Actually, I don't remember much of what we talked about. I do remember trying to explain why I love my Korean students...in Korean. They were confused. My Korean is terrible. Hahaha. We didn't have to "Steve" that joint, but were kicked out by the staff because it was...6 AM. Yep. We said our goodbyes, hopped in a taxi, then slept like babies.
IV. Musical Sunday, we slept in, then ran to the longest-running musical in Korea. It's called Line 1 (named after the subway line) and is a rock musical accompanied by a live 5 piece rock band. Oh, and we literally ran to the show. It was clear across town, and the traffic was terrible. We must've looked ridiculous, frantically searching for the theater. We even stumbled into an anti-FTA demonstration, where we politely asked for directions. The demonstrator smiled at us and set us in the right direction. Gotta love Koreans.
Thus, an epic birthday came to a close. I've never had so much fun in my life. The only casualties of the shebang were Margaret's scarf (MIA), our clothes (smelled like essence-of-clubbing), and my knees, which were incredibly sore from dancing.
BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
An unexpected call
Today, the MC from Golden Bell called. As I predicted, I didn't know who he was. He said he was "disappointed" that I didn't remember him. For the record, he introduced himself as "Kim," one of the most common names in Korea.
He called to ask me whether an answer on the show should be considered correct or wrong. The answer was diaspora but the student answered diasporan. To make matters more nerve wracking, this was question #50, and determined whether the student won the top prize or not. The MC remembered I studied anthropology and knew I spoke perfect English (hahaha, yeah right), and called me for clarification. The question called for a noun as the answer. The correct answer is diaspora, I told him.
He called back 10 minutes later to make sure. Again, I told him it was diaspora. "Ok, thank you. I'm in Busan now. I'll call you when I get to Seoul." ("Yeah right!" I thought) "No problem. Eat some good fish down there. Bye!"
I must be becoming more Korean than I thought...wishing him good eating and all.
For the record, I went online and found his name. 김현욱 (Kim Hyeon-ook) And now, I've got his number programmed in my phone so I know who's calling me when he calls...which is unlikely, but fun knowing that I've got a celebrity's cell # at my disposal. ^^
He called to ask me whether an answer on the show should be considered correct or wrong. The answer was diaspora but the student answered diasporan. To make matters more nerve wracking, this was question #50, and determined whether the student won the top prize or not. The MC remembered I studied anthropology and knew I spoke perfect English (hahaha, yeah right), and called me for clarification. The question called for a noun as the answer. The correct answer is diaspora, I told him.
He called back 10 minutes later to make sure. Again, I told him it was diaspora. "Ok, thank you. I'm in Busan now. I'll call you when I get to Seoul." ("Yeah right!" I thought) "No problem. Eat some good fish down there. Bye!"
I must be becoming more Korean than I thought...wishing him good eating and all.
For the record, I went online and found his name. 김현욱 (Kim Hyeon-ook) And now, I've got his number programmed in my phone so I know who's calling me when he calls...which is unlikely, but fun knowing that I've got a celebrity's cell # at my disposal. ^^
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Sometimes I hate looking foreign in Korea
Last night, I hung out with Margaret and Susie. We made cookies (which turned out white and elastic...but that's another story) then returned to my apartment. The beautiful weather and our aversion to drinking that night inspired us to buy fruit, sit on a bench, and people watch. Now, when I say "people watch" I don't mean in a creepy stalker way. People watching consists of noting specific things in what's going on around you, particularly related to the people.
While sitting on our public bench, we got more than our fair share of interesting people interactions. Those of you who are in Korea will probably know exactly what kind of story I'm going to tell next. Those of you who haven't been to Korea on a Saturday night, on a public bench situated next to a multitude of Family/GS Marts, kimbap places, and noraebangs, well, just read on.
I was just eating my apple. I was thoroughly enjoying fresh produce with good company on a comfortable September night. Susie, Margaret, and I were talking about nothing noteworthy when the inevitable happened: we were approached by less-than-sober older Korean men.
Now, for the record, I've NEVER felt unsafe in Korea. This remains true, though I have to admit that I have felt uncomfortable/awkward/livid in Korea.
The first guy kinda hobbled up to us. He approached alone, though I'm pretty sure his wife was the lady standing a couple feet away from him. He cocked his head sideways and stared at me. I could see the wheels creaking in his head (rusty from soju), trying to formulate something to say. Finally, he says to me "Is that apple delicious?" (in Korean) I replied, "Nae." (Which means "yes" in Korean.) He looked shocked that I understood him and this must have momentarily distracted him. He checked his balance then said, "Is the apple really delicious?" and gestured like he was eating an apple himself. "Nae," I said. Then he stepped closer and reached out his hand. THIS momentarily shocked ME. "I'm not giving you my apple," I said in English and shook my head. I had to giggle for the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. This guy was trying to steal my apple! This repeated itself twice more, with the addition of Margaret laughing in the background. The man then asked where I lived. "I'm not telling you where I live, " I replied in English. He asked if I lived here. "Cheonan-si," said Susie. (Another city outside of Seoul, to those of you unfamiliar with Korean geography.) He asked where I lived again, and again we shot him down. The guy again took a while to process this information, saw that his friends were leaving, and departed, but not before cracking a grin and saying, "You pretty," to me as he left.
When he was gone, the three of us shared a few laughs about the effects of late night drinking. I shook my head and shuddered to get over the event. A group of Chinese business men passed by on their way to another bar. They unabashedly stared at us and talked about us in Chinese. We made comments amongst ourselves about dirty old men.
We were just settling into a nice evening, when once again, we were approached by a less-than-sober older Korean man. This one had seen the first one talk to us and must've gotten the guts (and the idea) to do the same. We all sighed as the new man (we'll call him Adjussi2 - "adjussi" means adult man in Korean) walked precariously up to us.
Now, I can't recall the details of what transpired, but this is the gist of it. Adjussi2 asked where I'm from and where I live. He didn't believe that Susie was American and didn't even seem interested in Margaret. (I've got the only blue eyes of the three of us.) So, I was subjected to the brunt of his attentions. By this time, I was tired of being polite, and just replied bluntly in English. He asked for my phone number. "There's no way I'm giving you my phone number. You're a stranger." He asked where I lived again. "You're a stranger. I don't know you." He then goes into a drawn-out story about his daughter who comes home at 1 or 2 AM after studying. It was now clear that Adjussi2 wanted me to tutor his daughter. At one point he got really close to me and reached out to touch my shoulder. I said sharply, "Don't touch me." "Ok, I no touch,"Adjussi2 said, and he kept on talking. The one-sided conversation kept on going until Susie took the initiative to get rid of him buy loudly saying, "NO." This slowed him down, but he didn't leave. I then spoke terrible Korean in an effort to get our point across. "Adjussi, yogi, chigum, an iagiheyo." (This translates to "Mr., here, now, not want to chat.") I forgot a grammar rule when saying it, misplacing "an" when it should have gone before the "heyo." Regardless, Adjussi2 looked at me, put his hand to his chest and said, "Ok, I understand. Goodbye." He came up to me and wanted to shake my hand. Since he was leaving, I shook his hand. "Phone number?" he asked. "No!" "TOEIC? (and some more Korean)" "No! I'm not tutoring your daughter." He nodded a bit then left.
We all sighed with relief. Margaret chuckled. Susie said she had never experienced that before (because she's Korean-American and doesn't get approached like that). She said she was happy to have experienced it because now she knows how to advise the new ETAs who find themselves in similar situations. Then a strange thing happened, I became upset. I mean, I didn't cry or yell or anything dramatic like that. But, the rest of the night I felt a pit in my stomach, even when I knew I shouldn't.
I couldn't put my finger on why that situation made me emotional. Nowadays, it takes a lot to get me upset with Korea. However, that night managed to make me feel angry, disgusted, and sad - then guilty about feeling those things.
Most people would've recommended to walk away from the situation to avoid it escalating. I know this is probably the wisest thing to do, and I've done it in the past! I've walked away from something like this more times than I can remember. But, this time I stood my ground. I was sick of being run off. I feel I have a right go to public places, even though I am foreign. I hate changing my plans because some Koreans assume foreigners want to tutor strangers' kids. When I go out in public, I don't like being treated like a novelty, amusement, or free language partner. I DON'T WANT TO BE HARASSED BY DRUNKEN OLD MEN! Is that too much to ask?
Susie mentioned how responding in English that the Koreans can't understand didn't help the situation. I realize this and agree. It didn't help. But, at that moment, I was TIRED of politely telling the non-sober old men that I don't want to give them private information. I was tired of playing by their rules. I was tired of them not blushing when making me feel uncomfortable. If they were going to approach me in an obviously intrusive manner, I felt it perfectly acceptable to respond in way that made them a little uncomfortable too.
Talking to a foreigner is a cheap thrill to guys like the first man who approached me. Do they ever realize how they're making ME feel? Would Adjussi2 want a foreign man approaching his daughter at 10 PM in a foreign country? Have they ever stopped to think about it? I doubt it.
That's why I was angry. No matter how culturally understanding I try to be towards Korea, it isn't always reciprocated toward foreigners. It's really frustrating. I hate being pushed around. I hate feeling like someone has the upper hand in the situation. I hate feeling mistreated because I'm foreign, because I'm a girl, because I'm beautiful in a relatively exotic way.
This is yet another reason why I should learn to speak Korean. As soon as I was home, I looked up the Korean phrases for "stranger" and "I don't want to talk to you." Hopefully, next time I'll be confident enough in my Korean to simply explain my feelings and avoid a similar situation altogether.
Ok, I feel better now. Venting complete.
While sitting on our public bench, we got more than our fair share of interesting people interactions. Those of you who are in Korea will probably know exactly what kind of story I'm going to tell next. Those of you who haven't been to Korea on a Saturday night, on a public bench situated next to a multitude of Family/GS Marts, kimbap places, and noraebangs, well, just read on.
I was just eating my apple. I was thoroughly enjoying fresh produce with good company on a comfortable September night. Susie, Margaret, and I were talking about nothing noteworthy when the inevitable happened: we were approached by less-than-sober older Korean men.
Now, for the record, I've NEVER felt unsafe in Korea. This remains true, though I have to admit that I have felt uncomfortable/awkward/livid in Korea.
The first guy kinda hobbled up to us. He approached alone, though I'm pretty sure his wife was the lady standing a couple feet away from him. He cocked his head sideways and stared at me. I could see the wheels creaking in his head (rusty from soju), trying to formulate something to say. Finally, he says to me "Is that apple delicious?" (in Korean) I replied, "Nae." (Which means "yes" in Korean.) He looked shocked that I understood him and this must have momentarily distracted him. He checked his balance then said, "Is the apple really delicious?" and gestured like he was eating an apple himself. "Nae," I said. Then he stepped closer and reached out his hand. THIS momentarily shocked ME. "I'm not giving you my apple," I said in English and shook my head. I had to giggle for the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. This guy was trying to steal my apple! This repeated itself twice more, with the addition of Margaret laughing in the background. The man then asked where I lived. "I'm not telling you where I live, " I replied in English. He asked if I lived here. "Cheonan-si," said Susie. (Another city outside of Seoul, to those of you unfamiliar with Korean geography.) He asked where I lived again, and again we shot him down. The guy again took a while to process this information, saw that his friends were leaving, and departed, but not before cracking a grin and saying, "You pretty," to me as he left.
When he was gone, the three of us shared a few laughs about the effects of late night drinking. I shook my head and shuddered to get over the event. A group of Chinese business men passed by on their way to another bar. They unabashedly stared at us and talked about us in Chinese. We made comments amongst ourselves about dirty old men.
We were just settling into a nice evening, when once again, we were approached by a less-than-sober older Korean man. This one had seen the first one talk to us and must've gotten the guts (and the idea) to do the same. We all sighed as the new man (we'll call him Adjussi2 - "adjussi" means adult man in Korean) walked precariously up to us.
Now, I can't recall the details of what transpired, but this is the gist of it. Adjussi2 asked where I'm from and where I live. He didn't believe that Susie was American and didn't even seem interested in Margaret. (I've got the only blue eyes of the three of us.) So, I was subjected to the brunt of his attentions. By this time, I was tired of being polite, and just replied bluntly in English. He asked for my phone number. "There's no way I'm giving you my phone number. You're a stranger." He asked where I lived again. "You're a stranger. I don't know you." He then goes into a drawn-out story about his daughter who comes home at 1 or 2 AM after studying. It was now clear that Adjussi2 wanted me to tutor his daughter. At one point he got really close to me and reached out to touch my shoulder. I said sharply, "Don't touch me." "Ok, I no touch,"Adjussi2 said, and he kept on talking. The one-sided conversation kept on going until Susie took the initiative to get rid of him buy loudly saying, "NO." This slowed him down, but he didn't leave. I then spoke terrible Korean in an effort to get our point across. "Adjussi, yogi, chigum, an iagiheyo." (This translates to "Mr., here, now, not want to chat.") I forgot a grammar rule when saying it, misplacing "an" when it should have gone before the "heyo." Regardless, Adjussi2 looked at me, put his hand to his chest and said, "Ok, I understand. Goodbye." He came up to me and wanted to shake my hand. Since he was leaving, I shook his hand. "Phone number?" he asked. "No!" "TOEIC? (and some more Korean)" "No! I'm not tutoring your daughter." He nodded a bit then left.
We all sighed with relief. Margaret chuckled. Susie said she had never experienced that before (because she's Korean-American and doesn't get approached like that). She said she was happy to have experienced it because now she knows how to advise the new ETAs who find themselves in similar situations. Then a strange thing happened, I became upset. I mean, I didn't cry or yell or anything dramatic like that. But, the rest of the night I felt a pit in my stomach, even when I knew I shouldn't.
I couldn't put my finger on why that situation made me emotional. Nowadays, it takes a lot to get me upset with Korea. However, that night managed to make me feel angry, disgusted, and sad - then guilty about feeling those things.
Most people would've recommended to walk away from the situation to avoid it escalating. I know this is probably the wisest thing to do, and I've done it in the past! I've walked away from something like this more times than I can remember. But, this time I stood my ground. I was sick of being run off. I feel I have a right go to public places, even though I am foreign. I hate changing my plans because some Koreans assume foreigners want to tutor strangers' kids. When I go out in public, I don't like being treated like a novelty, amusement, or free language partner. I DON'T WANT TO BE HARASSED BY DRUNKEN OLD MEN! Is that too much to ask?
Susie mentioned how responding in English that the Koreans can't understand didn't help the situation. I realize this and agree. It didn't help. But, at that moment, I was TIRED of politely telling the non-sober old men that I don't want to give them private information. I was tired of playing by their rules. I was tired of them not blushing when making me feel uncomfortable. If they were going to approach me in an obviously intrusive manner, I felt it perfectly acceptable to respond in way that made them a little uncomfortable too.
Talking to a foreigner is a cheap thrill to guys like the first man who approached me. Do they ever realize how they're making ME feel? Would Adjussi2 want a foreign man approaching his daughter at 10 PM in a foreign country? Have they ever stopped to think about it? I doubt it.
That's why I was angry. No matter how culturally understanding I try to be towards Korea, it isn't always reciprocated toward foreigners. It's really frustrating. I hate being pushed around. I hate feeling like someone has the upper hand in the situation. I hate feeling mistreated because I'm foreign, because I'm a girl, because I'm beautiful in a relatively exotic way.
This is yet another reason why I should learn to speak Korean. As soon as I was home, I looked up the Korean phrases for "stranger" and "I don't want to talk to you." Hopefully, next time I'll be confident enough in my Korean to simply explain my feelings and avoid a similar situation altogether.
Ok, I feel better now. Venting complete.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Disappointment (not surprise)
Lame.
Jeongbok just informed me that many of my students' poem from last year, are indeed, not original. Apparently, lots of them are old Korean/Chinese poems and songs just translated to English. I knew that some of them wouldn't be original, but it stills breaks my heart a little. I don't know how to take the news: should I be devastated or laugh it off? Now I wanna go through them and delete all the plagiarized ones. Gotta enlist the help of native Koreans or learn more Korean and Chinese poems first...
Jeongbok just informed me that many of my students' poem from last year, are indeed, not original. Apparently, lots of them are old Korean/Chinese poems and songs just translated to English. I knew that some of them wouldn't be original, but it stills breaks my heart a little. I don't know how to take the news: should I be devastated or laugh it off? Now I wanna go through them and delete all the plagiarized ones. Gotta enlist the help of native Koreans or learn more Korean and Chinese poems first...
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Golden Bell
I've made my television debut in Korea!Pungsan High School was invited to participate in the Golden Bell game show. I was invited back to Andong to join in the festivities. It was a blast! (Except, they put make-up on me. I
was FORCED to wear stuff on my face. They covered all of my freckles! Well, they tried...I wiped it off in the bathroom ;) ) I asked a question in English, microphone, camera and all, and chatted with the students. Golden Bell is a quiz game show. 100 students answer 50 questions. If you reach #50 with
all correct answers, you ring the golden bell and win an awesome scholarship to college, a trip abroad, and other stuff. One kid got all the way to question 49, but missed the final one. I was hoping Pureum would make it all the way, but she went out around question 40 or so. I'm still proud of her!Jen and I made awesome signs to cheer on the students. I thought mine was particularly clever: We BELLieve in you. Cute, right?
I met the MC and his beautiful assistant, who happens to be almost exactly my age. The MC asked if I live in Seoul, asked if I drank alcohol, and asked for my phone number. Well, the conversation wasn't ONLY him asking those questions. It sounds much shadier than it actually is. I gave him my phone number because I doubt he'll ever call. And if he does call, I'll probably not know who the hell he his and decline his invitation. In fact, I have no idea what his name is. 
hahaha I'll have to look that up. An interesting fact, though, is that the MC majored in Spanish in college. That's a really rare thing in Korea. Spanish is almost unheard of here. So, we spoke a little in Spanish to each other (what I could remember) and he seemed genuinely impressed. I was impressed with his awesome English, but was distracted by his pink and purple striped tie and shiny gray suit. I wonder if he dresses himself...
Saturday, September 08, 2007
In which Noelle says "yes" where she would've said "no" in the past
So, today I was at Kyobo Bookstore. I had just finished purchasing another 3 books to add to my ridiculously large library in Korea. (How can I possibly justify lugging around 50+ books around the world?) I was walking out of the store when a man approached me and asked if I was an English teacher. I said I was and he asked if I'd be kind enough to help him with a VISA application. Now, normally people would apologize and say they didn't have time. I was about to explain how I was really sorry, but busy. However, I caught myself. His demeanor implied a normal guy who honestly needed help. I thought about how brave he was to ask for help from a foreigner in the first place. He must have gone to Kyobo in hopes of finding a person willing to help out a stranger. Having just read Yes Man by Danny Wallace, I made the decision to do just that.
I edited and helped format his cover letter, while he explained how he wanted to go to New Zealand for a 4-week language program. After the program, he told me, he is going to go back to his native Pakistan and open an English language institute in his hometown. So, we sat there for about an hour, fixing his application materials, and he offered to buy me dinner. We went to Itaewon where there happened to be a damn good Pakistani restaurant and ate to our hearts' content. I have the leftovers in my fridge. At the end of the meal we drank real chai tea. *Sigh. It was fantastic.
Khan, as he calls himself, gave me his contact information in Pakistan, you know, just in case I found my way there. I happily took it because, you know, I might find my way there. I have a tendency of making friends in foreign countries and taking them up in their offers of hospitality.
I'm happy I said, "yes," when I normally would've said, "no." Khan was "praying for an angel" to help him out, and I was happy to oblige...though I'm no angel. It just goes to show that most people in this world aren't creeps; they just want to work things out and live contentedly. This includes myself. Tonight, I'll sleep well with good food in my belly and an addition to my "if I ever feel the need to go somewhere new" address book.
I edited and helped format his cover letter, while he explained how he wanted to go to New Zealand for a 4-week language program. After the program, he told me, he is going to go back to his native Pakistan and open an English language institute in his hometown. So, we sat there for about an hour, fixing his application materials, and he offered to buy me dinner. We went to Itaewon where there happened to be a damn good Pakistani restaurant and ate to our hearts' content. I have the leftovers in my fridge. At the end of the meal we drank real chai tea. *Sigh. It was fantastic.
Khan, as he calls himself, gave me his contact information in Pakistan, you know, just in case I found my way there. I happily took it because, you know, I might find my way there. I have a tendency of making friends in foreign countries and taking them up in their offers of hospitality.
I'm happy I said, "yes," when I normally would've said, "no." Khan was "praying for an angel" to help him out, and I was happy to oblige...though I'm no angel. It just goes to show that most people in this world aren't creeps; they just want to work things out and live contentedly. This includes myself. Tonight, I'll sleep well with good food in my belly and an addition to my "if I ever feel the need to go somewhere new" address book.
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