Ding Ding Ding

I’ve only seen 2 fights in Korea.  The first involved an intoxicated young female breaking a beer bottle over her own head in a fit of rage, then attempt to cut the man sitting across the table from her, with said bottle.  That incident occurred during my first month here in the ROK and, as far as fights go, it made sense - I understood that fight. Inebriated and sleep deprived male and female pairings, fighting at 6am isn’t something you only see once in your lifetime.  Sober, female, i’m assuming fully rested, kindergarten cooks at 12:30 in the afternoon, however, is something I doubt i’ll ever see again.

It was my first week at PSA. I was still in the throws of my depression, so socializing during lunch was somewhat along the lines of torture. I preferred to sit and gaze at inanimate objects and feel sorry for myself and luckily on this day, my anti-social behavior allowed me to be privy to the entire spectacle that was “Cafeteria Beat Down 2012”.

As I was pushing some sort of meat and vegetable dish around my trey, I heard a noise that sounded like yelling.  Lethargically I looked up to see one of the younger lady cooks in a pink hairnet angrily grabbing a vat of food and walking out of the kitchen.  At this point I didn’t think much of it, because when Koreans talk, I often think they are angry, but what i’ve come to learn is that the tone I mistake for anger, is generally just the way in which they communicate.  I had just gone back to moving things around my plate when I heard a screech that was most definitely not just excited banter about kimchi.  The yelling was coming from an older cook wearing a standard black hairnet.  I glanced around the cafeteria to see if anyone else was scouting what was happening in the kitchen.  Unsurprisingly, all the other teachers were tending to their students and not paying attention to the escalating situation happening behind the food.  I, however, was now enthralled.

Within seconds of reentering the kitchen, pink hairnet and black hairnet were nose to nose, yelling what I can only assume are some pretty harsh Korean insults.  Black hairnet must have gone for the verbal jugular because pink hairnet snapped.  Before black hairnet could react, pink hairnet slammed down a spatula and thew a right haymaker directly at her face--connecting solidly against her jaw.  Black hairnet, clearly dazed, stumbled, recovered and charged pink hairnet, slamming her into the commercial size refrigerator.  There were a few body shots thrown from either side before the hairnets came off altogether as the hair-pulling began.  One of the other cooks made a feeble attempt to break up the brawl, but she was thrown aside like a child.

By this point the rest of the cafeteria had become aware of the melee and the responsible adults in the room started scurrying to get the kids up and out of the room.  I, however, being in a state of emotional apathy, just sat and watched as the two cooks pulled hair, kicked, yelled, and slapped.  During this period I, half ass, gave a couple no eye contact commands to the kids to go to the hall.  Looking back, I now realize what middle age men go through when trying to watch sporting events with young children around.  After a short time, I slowly got up and walked out to meet my class in the hallway, eyes still fully focused on the kitchen. Three men from the managerial staff and another female co-worker finally managed to pry the two gladiators off of one another. Thus, feeling like i’d just watched the NBA Championship, I half floated back to my classroom.

The next day I was like a child on Christmas, waiting to go back to the cafeteria and see which of the ultimate fighter cooks was still employed, if either.  As it turned out, the younger cook took her victory and quit PSA, never to be seen again.  Black hairnet, however is still serving up food and i’m sure to give her a “thanks" and a smile whenever possible --mostly because she terrifies me and because anyone who can body slam another individual into an industrial size kitchen appliance and still manage to keep her job, must be doing something right.

That’s a Start

A little over 2 weeks ago at 4am I stumbled off my plane and into the Seoul/Incheon International Airport for my second go round here in Korea.  Thanks to the jet lag, i’ve been head bobbing, near passing out around 9pm every night and waking up each morning anywhere from 5:30 to 6:00.  I’ve been starting off each day with a good cry, either soft sobs into my pillow or angry, rage filled tears depending on my level of depression.  Then I begin making manic phone calls to a handful of people from back home.  Eventually, I pull myself together enough to get dressed and make my way to work.  Little did I know that first Monday back, that waking up and crying would be a relatively easy part of my day.

Even after living here for just over a year, i’m still very unschooled in the ways of the Seoul bus system.  The subways are in english, relatively straight forward and difficult to screw up, thus I usually opt for the underground mode of transport, even though at times it’s much more time consuming.  The distance between my new apartment and my new school by subway is a bit of a trek, being that there is no direct route.  So on Sunday before my first day I went around to figure out which bus might provide and easier trip to school each day.  After talking with numerous locals in broken English and a few key phrases in Korean, I found out that the 143 is just about door to door from my apartment to my school.  A couple of the Koreans even muttered phrases about a bus stop called “something something something Ga Apartments”.  Feeling proud of myself, I headed home to watch some episodes of Glee before my 9pm bedtime.

The next morning I woke up and had my cry, which was particularly hysterical because it was my first day back at work. Couple that with my jet-lag and severe emotional comedown from the last two weeks spent in the US and I was quite the mess, but wanting to make a good impression on the first day I pushed though my location induced depression and got ready for school. I  carefully selected my most teacher-esk outfit, shellacked on some waterproof mascara and trotted down to catch the bus.

Once on the bus I found a seat and settled in for the trip across the bridge.  I had been peering out the window looking for things that I recognized when I realized I was on the correct street, if we were to keep on in the same direction we’d run into my school.  I was once again very proud of myself and just as I was mentally patting myself on the back and stroking my ego over my impeccable direction skills, the bus made a right turn down a residential street and I panicked.  Shit. Shit where’s he goin? Nope nope nooope I need to go straight. Ahh I need the bus to go straight. Why are we going this way? Oh god I need to get off before I end up in some other district.  Crap did he just say “apartment”.  Ahh this must be it! Maybe. Ahh. I’m going for it.  And then I bailed off the bus.

Unsure of exactly where I was I check my phone to see what time it was.  It was 8:40.  Twenty minutes to get back on track and find the school.  I assured myself that if I just made it though the wooded residential area, i’d be right by PSA, so I briskly walked down the narrow roads, ignoring the morning traffic and crosswalk attendants, much to their disapproval.  Once out of the wooded area I looked around to see that I recognized absolutely nothing.  More panic.

After checking the time and seeing 8:44 I began to sprint, surely I could not be so far off course.  Wrong.   A minute or so of running in the 90 plus degree heat and 80% humidity, I was near passing out.  I began yelling at random Koreans on the street, pleading to people in cars as they rolled up their windows...

8:46 - “Apgujeong Yuk?! Anyone Apgujeong Yuk?!”
8:47 - “Taxi! TAXI!” Amazing. first day of school and i’m gonna be late. Awesome 
8:48 - “Taxi!!! TAXI! FUCKING TAXI I KNOW YOU SEE ME!”
8:49 - “Anyone Apujeong yuk? Please anyone! Do you know where Apgujeong Station is?!” More running and tears begin to fall.
8:50 - “Please someone! Apgujeong yuk? Apgujeong station? I know you can hear me!” - directed at a Korean businessman who had diverted his eyes.

A short while later I was hunched up against a wall, holding back sobs while I attempted to call my principal and explain the situation, when I realized I had no minutes on my cell phone.  Then, feeling completely defeated, hating everything about my situation, including myself, a kind ajushi with no English phrases under his belt hobbled up and said “apgujeong yuk?” I shook my head and he guided me around the corner to a bus stop.  The 143 bus stop.  The same bus I had been on minutes before and bailed on.

Three stops later and I was at the front door of my new school, red faced, drenched in sweat, puffy eyed and shaking.  Someone was kind enough to hold the elevator, which was packed with children and parents.  That person ended up being Daniel, the person who I would be replacing at PSA--Good morning Lily Class. I’m Lydia Teacher.

Springing Around

The weather’s gotten nicer and my ability to sit in front of my computer and write about, my now, seemingly normal and at times mundane life has become really difficult. I’m quickly approaching the 10 month mark, which I feel unbelievably prepared for, but also caught off guard by.  here’s the quick and dirty of my last couple months here in the ROK.

I like boys more than girls

Ever since I started teaching I could tell that I had a soft spot for the adorable little guys in my class, but now that they’re older and their personalities show through in every activity, every day, it’s become glaringly obvious just how much cooler boys are than girls, specifically 5 year olds boys.

On the girls side of Elephant Class we’ve been dealing with manipulative behavior, lying, alienating, bullying, name calling, jealousy--they are me 10 years ago.  These mini-premadonnas are vicious little instigators and their behavior is once again making me question their future as human beings. 

Thus, I focus my energy on the happier half of my classroom. The happy-go-lucky, fun loving, slightly out of control, yet receptive little men are light of my life. 

Not only are they easier to deal with and more fun, but they’re overall smarter than the girls. They’re even up to date on current world events.  Regardless if their information comes from their misinformed and highly neurotic Korean parents.  

Here’s a video of my kids explaining the earthquake in Japan, or “errscakes” as WoongJay calls it.  

After the earthquake and following nuclear meltdown, there was a pretty big fear of a fallout here in Korea, especially when rain clouds coming from the east covered the city of Seoul.  In this take WoongJay and Henry give a pretty scientific explanation of what happens if you get some of this, so called, radioactive rain on your head.


Overall they’re just a lot cooler than the girls.  Hopefully the ladies pull it together at some point, but until then i’ll keep talking about Power Rangers and Transformers.


Mary Takes Korea 

Mary Whiteside came to visit in mid April and along with her came a bag full of goodies and treats from the states.  Mom, the Brita water filter has completely changed my life.  Dead serious.

We ate a lot of food...

Some of it was really bad. Like the messy disaster of sauce and seaweed shown below.  I don’t know what we were thinking when we decided that out of all the food trucks, in all of Gangnam, we should select this squid and octopus fried delicacy.  It was far from tasty and we ended up throwing it out after 2 bites.  

She’s laughing because it’s disgusting...

 We went and saw the cherry blossoms and rode some bikes...

We drank tea...

Took pictures next to an ox made of grass...

Then Mary got lost.  I had gone to the gym in the morning and had made plans to meet her at the main intersection and we’d walk to Reggio together.  Somehow she got mixed up in the ping pong ball machine looking streets of my area and took a right when she should have gone left.  About 5 minutes past our planned meeting time I used my friends phone and gave her a call to see if there was a problem.  She had panic in her voice, but I thought nothing of it because there had been a twinge of panic in her voice since before she left the states.  I tried to stay calm, asking what she saw around her.  “Holly’s Coffee on my left” she replied.  I said “Good! Keep going straight.” completely overlooking the fact that there are Holly’s Coffee’s roughly every half block in Seoul.  After waiting a bit longer and running around trying to find her, I decided to hustle to school and try to call her again.  Once at school and on the phone with her, we realized what had happened, I instructed her to a cab, had a Korean give directions to the driver and within 15 minutes she was at Reggio, this didn’t stop the tears though.  Oh there were tears.  And frustration.  And a little scolding.  But after the panic attack subsided everything was fine and the kids were very very excited to see her.  

Then we went to Seokcho on the East Sea.  Our first night we went to a traditional Korean fish restaurant.  At one point there were 4 plats of food that were still moving.  I had some trouble with this meal and Mary didn’t eat much at all.  Fun experience, but i’m not looking to ever do it again.

We got fireworks.  The devil’s fireworks.  They were the kind you light, hold in your hand, and they shoot out balls of exploding fire.  These particular fireworks must have been poorly packed because even if held straight, the fire balls would boomerang and explode on the ground directly behind you or somewhere else in the near vicinity.  So there you are with a stick of gun powder and fire, petrified with fear, firework shrapnel flying everywhere, unable to decide a plan of action that might take you away from this perceived harm.  Looking back on it now, we very easily could have placed the fireworks into the sand, but that option didn’t even occur to anyone at the time.  

Did a lot of seashell hunting.

Went hiking. 

Then after 12 glorious days Mary went back to the states : (  

The Ostrich Farm 

I don’t know who gets the ideas for some of our field trips, or where they get these ideas from, but the trip to the ostrich farm was one for the books.  I spent the whole time freaking out trying to keep my kids away from the ostriches.  I can’t say i’ve spent much time around ostriches, but they are truly disgusting and frightening creatures.  They stare at you, much in the way that the velociraptors stared at prey in the movie Jurassic Park.  Simply terrifying.

Then we got to feed bunnies, which was a welcomed change from the vicious birds of prey.



Thankfully we made it through the day with no breakdowns, bites or injuries.  Some classes weren’t so lucky.  Shota in Dolphin class got to close to a horse and it bit his little arm.  There was mass hysteria amongst the Korean teachers followed by a trip to the hospital.  Fortunately for me and the Elephants, the day was all smiles.

Then we went on another field trip.  This time to see Dibo and the Super Band.  During the show they turned off the lights, gave out glow sticks to all the kids and had laser lights fit for a Vegas club.  It was like a rave for little people.  It was pretty overwhelming for a lot of the kids and WoongJay spent the whole time on my lap crying.  Poor little guy.

Seoraksan...again...

Just two weeks after visiting Seokcho and Seoraksan with my mom, a group of us went back for a long weekend.

I climbed inside a statue of a man outside of Emart....

We hiked. Again.  This time was far different from the leisurely hike I did with my mom.  This hike is intense and challenging, with some 800 stairs going up a sheer rock face.  I’ve done it before, which is why I continually questioned why I suggested we do it again.  

Took some videos documenting our progress.  

But we made it to the top! 

All in all it’s been a busy and bustling past 2 months.  Filled with a lot of fun and a good amount of homesickness.  At times damn near debilitating homesickness.  Thankfully that has passed.  Summer seems to have arrived and i’m about to sign my second contract.  See ya someday USA.  

we are excited. yes we are.

In only 2 short weeks Mary Whiteside will be hopping on a plane and heading out to Seoul to spend some time site seeing, shopping and hopefully cooking me a lot of food.  I am like a child before Christmas and my excitement for my upcoming visitor has been discussed greatly with the people that I spend time the most time with, Elephant Class.  They are also very much looking forward to meeting "Lydia teacher’s mommy”.  I think they are also betting on receiving some pencils or Pokemon cards or Power Ranger Engine Force memorabilia from the States.

The fact that they’re capable of discussing more than animals and colors now makes it a lot easier for us to have conversations about my current favorite topic. 

This was one of the first days we talked about our April visitor, so we were still working out the details.

So this is what a 20 grand a year kindergarten education looks like in Korea....


And lastly...sorry it’s a few days late....



The paper chain is being made tomorrow! Love you and can’t wait for you to get here!!!!

so there’s that...

Spring is just about here in the ROK and I, for one, could not be happier.  To say that the weather between late November and late February were cold is a gross understatement.  It was painful.  It was miserable. It was depressing.  I never wanted to leave my house (and for the most part I didn’t).  It was a tough couple of months.  But even though it felt as though it would never end, here we are mid March, in the mid to upper 40s, no longer battling a sever case of SAD and no longer refusing to get out of bed for anything other than a contractual agreement that allows me to stay in this country.

Along with the increase in temperature, attitude and overall outlook on life, there has been an renewed sense of desire to get out and experience the city a bit more.  With that comes a lot more subway rides and journeys around Seoul.  Now days these journeys aren’t spent gripping my own body for warmth, wiggling my toes to avoid frostbite, and assessing all possible areas that might be left uncovered and exposed to the air outside.  Since I no longer have all of these things to do on the subway, I’m able to get back to people watching.  I almost forgot how wonderful Seoul is for that exact thing.

A few weeks back I was headed somewhere by myself, when 3 elderly people sat down across the train from me.  At first glance they looked like normal Koreans over the age of 65, but before I looked away I noticed a significant amount of sparkle reflecting off all their clothing.  As I inspected it became clear that they must have put on every fur/sequin/multi-colored/flannel piece of clothing they owned.  It was at that moment that I realized it was my duty to take a picture.  My heart was pounding because I was nervous that they’d see me, or that my camera would flash, or if I did take a picture with out flash it wouldn’t turn out, then they’d of course get off at the next stop, causing another missed opportunity for greatness, so I decided to take a video.

So here’s a video of 3 Korean senior citizens that i’d love to spend some time with, maybe have some drinks with, maybe go to Vegas with.



What’s frustrating and sad about this video, is that it doesn’t even come close to giving these people’s outfits the justice they deserve.  There was so much shine.  So much fur.  So many layers.  So much, and I mean so much fake hair (those clip on ponytails are huge here in Korea) and i’m pretty sure the gentleman on the right also buys into the hype.

On another pleasant weekend afternoon, a couple of us girls went to the foreign market in Itaewon to buy some hard to come by spices and overpriced potato chips (the real, not airy kind).  After shopping we were walking around trying to figure out a place to eat when we ran into a fiery Korean woman that had a few choice words to say to foreigners that partake in unfavorable activities here in her homeland of Korea.  And like any patriotic activist, she had pulled up a chair on the street corner in the foreigner district and put her thoughts on display...

Just to clarify her sign reads “Drug foreigners return to your country! If not we will kill you on the road in daytime.”  
cold blooded murder > drugs 

 I don’t think anyone in their right mind would question this woman’s moral priorities or logic.  They seem pretty airtight.

When she noticed us taking interest in her sign she decided to show us a pamphlet she’d made which had a picture of Obama holding and uzi.  She kept muttering something about “Korean politician” and pointing at Obama.  I was thoroughly confused.  And entertained.  As can be seen in the picture below...

Skyler and I with the Korean lady who’s fightin the good fight.  

Later on that same day, about a minute and a half later in fact, we ran into some people partaking in something that I thought you might actually get killed in the street for. In the states you’d at least get taken to the streets if you did this openly in a major city with absolutely no shame.  Right outside the subway on the way to the Wolfhound we saw a Korean man dressed in black face, with a dread-lock wig, screaming something while holding a sign.  

In all honesty I found this more shocking and appalling than the woman who was threatening to kill people in the street in daylight (questioning my moral priorities at the moment).  This Korean had a crowd gathered around, everyone looking to their left and right trying to decide who was going to make the first move and at least say something about how inappropriate it was.  But as we stood there we saw people of all different races and nationalities walking by, shaking their heads in laughter, so we decided to walk away without causing a bigger scene--but not without getting a picture first. 

If the guy in the red sweater is smiling and not punching the guy behind the banner out, who am I to play moral police?

It’s really great having even the slightest want to be outside and if my outings continue to be this comical and entertaining I’m gonna be going out all the time.  So keep it up Seoul.  

spaghetti day!

When I was growing up my mom would always break spaghetti noodles in half, thus making them easier for a child to consume, but also taking away a significant amount of enjoyment from the whole spaghetti eating experience.  I remember it being a battle of wills whenever it was spaghetti night at my house.  My mom, trying to pull a fast one on me by breaking the noodles without me seeing, and me adamantly and sometimes angrily begging for her to keep them whole.  After seeing my class eat spaghetti, I understand why she was so staunchly opposed to serving us kids full length noodles.

I would also like to say that it’s on this day, and this day only, I skip up to the second floor, salivating and excited for lunch.  It’s a bit crazy how emotionally attached we westerners are to spaghetti, even if it is, like everything else in Korea, doused in sugar and MSG.  Even though the sauce is always a little on the sweet side, spaghetti day is always circled on the monthly lunch menu and I always have a smile on my face, knowing that no where on the lunch table will I see seaweed or squid.

one would think that eating spaghetti noodles with chopsticks would be like eating any other noodle, but for some reason my kids (especially JiAhn-surprise surprise) have a really hard time maneuvering spaghetti into their little mouths using chopsticks.  

Henry looks like he’s in pain here...

If you say those aren’t the cutest cheeks in the world you’re a liar. 

3 noodles at a time. 

Check out the bling around Daniel’s neck. Piimp. 

I think Andy’s mom is doing the haircutting in the Lee household. Maybe with dull scissors.  And maybe after drinking soju. 

These trainer chopsticks are pretty brilliant. I know a few adults who could seriously use a pair of them.  

Evidence

The following video confirms my earlier posting regarding the intelligence level of some of my students.  In this little clip Heather and JiAhn are attempting to play a game of Paper, Rock, Scissors--which might I mention, is a Cat Class favorite.  In the video Andy, the infant in my class (I think his mom and dad lied on his birth certificate to get an early start on his education) is well aware of the winner of the PRS battle, but JiAhn and Heather are absolutely clueless. In this relatively simple game, JiAhn thinks paper beats scissors.  Then later Heather just decides to hold her hand out in paper, and Tweedle Dum throws out a matching paper 3 or so times, all the while Andy (the infant) is aware of the correct winner and correct English name of the game...baby genius.

Brilliant.

The Boy with the Sharpie Tattoo

I’m no stranger to bizarre things happening in bars.  Working as a bartender throughout college I witnessed many odd behaviors, outbursts and an enumerable amount of embarrassing moments.  Nearly every shift we’d dub someone Patron of the Night.  This title would most often go to the drunk girl crying in the corner, or the person grinding on a pole while simultaneously using it as a brace to keep upright, but sometimes someone really special would come along and change the game completely.  There was one evening in particular where a young techno loving gentlemen came in with a group of lady friends and proceeded to fight with inanimate objects and shoot fake arrows at my co-worker and I.  You had to see it to really appreciate the beauty and creativity of this lad’s dance moves, but let me just say, it made an impression and i’m reminded of him every time I see a bow and arrow (not as if that’s often). I don’t know if anyone will ever top that individual, but last weekend while a group of us were out in Itaewon, someone came close. Very close.

Upon arrival at The Wolfhound, everyone hustled to the bar to snag pints of specially priced Red Rock, I however, having drank a considerable amount of soju on the cab ride over, opted to wait it out for a bit.  Once situated I naturally took a look around the bar to survey the patrons and almost immediately I was struck by the vibe a young Korean man was putting off from the bar.  Dressed in all black with his back  towards the bartender, both elbows overconfidently placed atop the bar ledge, beanie pulled down, eyes focused outward.  It was easy to see that he was trying to channel some sort of Korean James Dean, badass and mysterious, but it just came off looking awkward, forced and intense.  Strange vibe and all, I didn’t think much of it and went on conversing with my co-teachers.

After some time had passed I grew thirsty and decided to go get a beer.  I headed to the bar and quickly walked to the first opening I saw.  As I stood waiting for the bartender to acknowledge me, I looked to my right and noticed that there standing next to me was the Korean wannabe Brad Pitt from Fight Club.  After a few seconds he introduced himself.
“Hello.  I am Jin.  Where from?”
“Hi. Lydia. From America.”
“You teacher?”
“Yeah I am.  I teach......” And that’s when something odd caught my eye.  On both his arms, which were now place in front of him on the bar, were markings, at first glance they looked like sleeve tattoos, but as I looked closer, cocking my head to the side to get a better look, I realized that the markings were not made from tattoo ink, but from sharpie ink.  At this point Jin realized that I wasn’t concentrating on our conversation, because I was curiously and confusedly staring at his arms, then a creepy smile took over his already slightly creepy face, as if to say “yeah you like those?”

As everything fell into place, my confusion turned into giggles then quickly turned into booming laughter when I started to make out some of the things he’d written on his arms.  There were math equations, elementary drawings of animals, words like “strength” and “honor” and i’m 99% sure he had e=mc2 written on his wrist.  I’m still kicking myself for not getting a photo to document the greatness of this kid’s attempt at awesomeness, because describing it really doesn’t do it justice.  I’m talking full on, hand to shirt, writing, drawing and scrawl.  Use your imagination--then double it.

What I did next was beyond mean, and I feel bad about it, but like a giddy child with no sense of personal space or right and wrong, I licked my thumb and attempted to rub off one of his “tats”, completely forgetting that he was a real human being with boundaries.  When he realized what I was doing and snapped his arm back I came back to reality, said, “oh my god i’m so sorry”, grabbed my beer and took off.

I was still in shock when I arrived back at our table, partly because of his tattoos, but mostly because of my behavior.  And now looking back I can’t help but wonder what is more strange, a dude who sharpies on tattoos in an attempt to look badass in a bar, or a girl who, after a few drinks, develops turrets, licks her thumb and attempts to rub marker off a complete stranger.  Jury is still out, but I hope Jin found whatever he was looking for.

“Your daughter...she’s...she’s so creative. So so creative.”

There are a number of things that i’ve learned from being around children and “teaching” for these past few months.  First and foremost, I really don’t know what i’m doing.  I often think to myself as i’m preparing a lesson, or doing something that doesn’t require my full attention, how funny it would be if people knew how much I make up on the spot, or how everything feels a bit like a leap of faith, because i’m never sure if what i’m doing will pan out.  The fact that Cat Class is communicating in English and seem to have learned a significant amount is still baffling to me.  It’s also a fact that not a day goes by that I don’t become a devout christian for about 20 seconds and thank Jesus that I teach kindergarteners, because i’m pretty sure that if I were teaching older kids they’d see me for the sham that I am, and berate me with their words and i’d be ridiculed daily.

Next I realized that my job title should probably be something more like “preventer of complete and utter chaos” rather than “teacher”.  It seems that what I spend most of my day doing is keeping these tiny humans under some sort of control.  In psychology I remember learning about this thing called “the Id”, which is basically that instinctual drive to find pleasure and avoid pain.  As you grow older, people learn that you have to live within boundaries and completely giving into your Id isn’t possible, because instant gratification and living on impulse isn’t possible (some people take this to heart more than others).  I’m no expert so I don’t know if it’s all kids this age, but the member of Cat Class really haven’t grasped the concept of delayed gratification and patience is still very much a word, not a practiced virtue.  I’m in no way saying I don’t understand how this is so, because at 24 i’m still trying to get a grip on both those things.  Maybe they’ll get the hang of it earlier in life then I did, but for now it’s pretty entertaining to watch the Cats struggle with even the most simple of patience requiring tasks....


Note clever little Lara, placing the cookie in her napkin and then putting the whole napkin wrapped cookie in her mouth.  Ah K, Lara, you win.

Probably the most shocking thing i’ve learned from teaching is that some kids are just dumb. Clearly I didn’t come into this expecting every child to be a miniature Bill Gates, or well on their way to a full ride at an Ivy League or MIT, but I guess I wasn’t prepared for such a discrepancy in ability and overall intelligence.  Now i’m not saying that the less then stellar kindergarten students of the world won’t turn out all right, I myself was in the lower reading level for most of my elementary school years (difficulty sounding things out and telling left from right).  I wouldn’t be shocked if Ms. Walker or Mrs. Carlton thought to themselves, “Oh that poor little Hu girl, she’s really gonna have a tough time, that one”, I wouldn’t be shocked because that is exactly what I think about a couple of the little birds in Cat Class. But then I have to take a step back and put myself in their miniature shoes, which are more than likely on the wrong feet, because although it’s not scientific, in my experience, shoes on the wrong feet is a sure fire sign of a lesser intelligence, and realize that they’ll probably turn out alright, and if they don’t, hopefully they inherit some money or marry well.

Below is a picture of Heather and JiAhn, or Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee as I like to call them, holding cakes they made in art class of edible and inedible objects.  Surprisingly both of them have their slippers on correctly.

Next we have a couple pictures of the two little ones right after I discovered that they had eaten a significant amount of the edible AND inedible decorations that were hot glued to the cake.  Their faces really say it all....

halfway around the sun

In some ways it’s hard to believe i’ve been living here for 6 months.  Part of me feels the same as I did when I arrived here--alien and out of place.  Yet so much has changed in my time here.  It’s hard for me to believe that I was scared of the subway, the streets seemed overwhelmingly frightening and I couldn’t figure out how to eat a decent meal without a guide only a few short months ago.  So much good has come out of growing comfortable and finding my feet, but the novelty of my life here has most definitely worn off and there are many things that have made it difficult during these winter months.  This is not to say that I don’t still love and enjoy it, it’s just coming to the realization that it’s not all bad food, poorly translated signs and a big joke for me to laugh at.  But i do still laugh at it. Most of it that is.

Some of my life as of late...

The food has grown on me and by grown on me, I mean i’ve learned to stomach it and enjoy it - sometimes and moderately.  I eat kimchi.  I eat squid and octopus.  The abundance of seaweed is still a little disconcerting, but i’m living with it.

I walked outside this weekend and for a moment...just a moment...I think the sun warmed my face.  If this really happened and wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, things are looking up and there is a light at the end of this frozen, frigid, drafty, inescapable tunnel.

Cat Class got a new member the day we returned from Christmas vacation.  He cried for 3 days straight. And when I say he cried for 3 days straight, I mean this child cried for 6 hours straight, from 9am-3pm continuously for 3 whole days.  At one point I sprinted out of the room and cried a bit myself.  Thankfully, he’s doing better now and has turned out to be quite the little sweetheart.  It was a terrible start, but things are looking up for Henry.  Here’s a video from one of his first days in class.




A while back I lost my coat and i’ve been searching for a new one all over Seoul, but it’s become very clear to me that people here have T-Rex arms.  This is in no way an exaggeration.  I have actually pointed this fact out to numerous other people and many of them also agree that, proportionately, Koreans as a race simply do have shorter arms.  I’d be happy to place a wager with anyone who disagrees with me.  I’ll gladly video document my trials and failures of coat shopping for anyone who cares to lose a bet.  

Putting up the double peace sign started as a joke, but it’s become my standard move in photos, thus proving that Koreans are rubbing off on me far more than i’m influencing them.  God knows i’m speaking more like a Korean child then a college educated American these days.

These past two months haven’t been a cake walk here, but hopefully the food will continue to sit well, the sun will keep getting warmer, Henry will save the crying for times when Lena teaches, i’ll find a jacket that hits below my forearm and the peace sign heyday ends. Here’s to hoping.

Kid Art

At this moment, I don’t believe there is a place that could possibly be colder than it is here in Seoul.  Earlier this week it was colder here than it was in Moscow, Russia. Yeah. Russia.  Currently I’m in my apartment, floor heat cranked, space heater on blast and oscillating, leggings, sweaters, hat and wool socks on my body.  Before this I’d never given much validity to seasonal depression, but being here has given me reason to reconsider.  Maybe living in California for the past 5 years has made me seriously weak when it comes to dealing with anything below 50 degrees - or maybe that’s what I tell myself as to not feel bad about continuing to whine about my frozen situation.  If I were to write a recap of my life at this point in time, it would read simply as incoherent and angry ramblings, because no matter what I try to think about, or write about, my thoughts always seem to revert back to my disdain for the weather or my growing case of cabin fever.  

So! Here are some more kid drawings, because even thought I live in a frozen tundra with no happiness and overwhelming gloom, the kid’s art always makes me laugh.  

 For some reason every drawing this kid makes has the crazy meth addict coming off a 5 day binge eyes.  WoongJay gave this to me after he’d be sitting in timeout.  I think this was his way of saying ‘i’m sorry’ and/or i’m going to kill you....with my legs...cause I don’t have arms.  

I really don’t know what David was going for here....

I feel like someone’s parents aren’t enforcing age appropriate television.  

Ryan’s happy dinosaur.  

Heather is still trying to figure it all out, but at 6 months in i’m not sure she’s going to. 

“Leedia teacha! Pwesent!”
 “Aww thanks Ryan! Who is this? Who did you draw?”
“Des es Leedia teacha.”
“Ah. It’s perfect. Thanks buddy.”

Thailand Part 2 - The Crash

I heard a lot about the “Koh Phangan tattoos” before heading to Thailand.  Mopeds are the most convenient and cheapest way to get around and scooter novice backpackers, hopped up on Chang and Thai whiskey, often make the poor decision of getting on their bikes, which often results in a crash, which often results in some sort of painful physical marking, hence the term “Koh Phangan Tattoo”.  I’d been mentally preparing for the dangers of Thailand scooter driving, drawing upon all my past knowledge of 2 wheel vehicle navigation and safety - I was confident that i’d come out on top, successfully avoiding becoming a statistic or “oh you should see what happened to my friend on the island” type of story.  And i’m happy to say, I did just that.  I followed the rules of the road, and while I was in control of the scoot, there were no crashes, not-a-one.  But I wasn’t the only one operating the blue scooter from Golden Hill Resort.

I don’t blame him.  I really don’t.  It’s easy to get the gas and the brake mixed up.  People do it all the time. You get situated on the bike, half asleep girl on the back, groggy because it’s 7am and the decision’s been made that going on a journey to get breakfast sounds better than simply walking up and ordering something from the kitchen, and it just happens. You turn the right instead of squeezing the left.  Easy mistake.  I’m assuming Saba was eyeballing the best route to take to get up the unpaved and treacherous terrane of our bungalow’s driveway when he gunned the gas like we were in a motorbike drag race.  Before I even had time to react I was sailing through the air, barreling toward one of the people doing yard work on a patch of grass, below a coconut tree.  After we hit the bump that sent me flying, Saba was able to regain relative control of the bike, staying on board, just clumsily and ungracefully tipping over the bike.

This little mishap left a scrape on my leg and ended up costing a bit of money when we returned the bike later that week, but all things considered we made out pretty well.  There were no broken bones, the damage costs weren’t outrageous and my leg has more or less healed.  Nothing permanently harmed or broken - except maybe Saba’s scooter driving ego...I think that may be gone forever.

Thailand Part 1 - BAM! You’re welcome Bangkok.

Coming back to Korea after 8 days in Thailand has been difficult.  These past two days in the minus 15 degree weather/reeling off the high that is traveling to a foreign place and doing whatever you want, whenever you want, has left me dangling on the ledge of depression, questioning why I even liked it here in the first place.  I’m sure Korea will gain its light back, but right now the pictures and thoughts of Thailand are still in the forefront of my mind and all I can think about is getting back there. It was a truly amazing week and knowing that i’ll go back there as soon as possible will get me through these cold couple of months ahead.


My time in Bangkok was more like a stop off.  Our flight arrived at 5:45 and we got to Koh San Road at about 7pm.  This was after I told my good old buddy old pal, Saba, that we’d be there at 2:45 - I’m still sorry about that.   Once the 3 of us arrived (Steph, Karin and I) we threw our backpacks in our rooms and headed out to do some shopping.

...As it turns out i’m the worlds worst barterer.  If I were taking the easy way out, i’d blame the sizable Changs for my poor addition and subtraction skills, but i’m not gonna do that, it was completely and utterly my inability to undersell these Thai people.  Especially when they were continually calling me “friend” and telling me that they’d “give me good deal”.  I guess I believed that while I was sifting through the racks of sweat shop clothing, that they’d marked up 300%, we’d had some sort of connection and surely they weren’t gonna rip me off.  Saba stood back and watched this amateur American tourist hour a handful of times before he stepped in.  After I offered an honest looking Thai woman 1200 baht for 3 dresses priced at 350 Baht each, he put a stop to the slaughter and from that point on all negotiations were discussed with him first.  All in all, i’m sure Thailand economy is thankful for my visit to the vendors, as I did leave with a whole new wardrobe - a wardrobe that’s going to lie dormant in my Seoul apartment until the frost melts and the blistering heat returns.  None the less, it was fun.

It’s no surprise that Bangkok is a complete tourist trap -these people make a living of ripping off wide eyed fools like myself.  However I wasn’t expecting the in your face aggressive nature of it all.  The physical pushiness of Korean people is quite different from the verbal sort dealt with in Bangkok.  Saba had been there for a couple days already, thus knowing not to entertain their offers with even the slightest glance, but this proved to be another failure for me.

Whenever one of them would walk up and say “tuk tuk?” then whisper “ping pong show?” i’d always lose a bit of focus and look at them in what must have signified interest, because then once again Saba would have to step in and shoo them away.  I don’t know what kind of look I was giving these people, something tells me i’m not the typical ping pong show frequenter, so i’ll need to figure it out and correct that behavior before my next trip.  If I hadn’t been with someone else, along with paying a few Thai people’s mortgages, i’d also have the images of a ping pong show burned into my memory.

The next morning at 5am Saba and I headed to the airport to catch a flight to Surat Thani and then hop on a catamaran that would take us to Koh Phangan (also known as Heaven).

Tough time at the airport.

More to come.....