I looked sideways at him in his ninja suit. The man wears pajamas all day long, and we’ve just spent an hour practicing somersaults and handsprings. “It’s not that hard to fry an egg,” I said. “You can do both.”
“Not Korea man job,” he insisted. “I have wife.” He was about to say more, but he was at least wise enough to sense a tirade coming, so instead he said, “Pass.” That’s our conversational safe word for when cultural differences threaten needless arguments. With one last withering glance meant to transcend language barriers, I reminded myself that it isn’t my job to come over here and impose my own value system on others. Still, it niggles. This isn’t the only instance of sexism here in Korea. In general, I look past it, because I know that I can do anything I want, and usually that’s enough for me. But it’s fairly pervasive in this overwhelmingly patriarchal society. It often feels like women are just about 15 per cent less of a person here. For just a moment there in the van, I forgot what decade I had wandered into.

Actually, that’s been a pretty common theme here. Fads come in and out like the weather, and I can never tell if Korean culture is so trendy that these dated fads are coming back, or are just now getting here. Example: when I first arrived, Korea was going through a serious New Kids on the Block phase. I emphasize serious here, because it’s not like they were enjoying it in a cutesy reminiscent sense, the way I like, say, Guns’n’Roses. No no. Grown men sported NKOTB tee shirts, and the radio stations played New Kids mash-ups. Really. I missed the American NKOTB phase by a couple years, but that still puts Korea about twenty years behind.

2PM

Naturally, it follows that there are dozens of boy bands, and some girl bands too, dominating the pop scene. At first, I failed to find the joy in what are essentially the Korean versions of the Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls (remember 1998?). But, one of the dubious benefits of teaching is always being clued in to pop culture via the students. After a couple months, I realized I couldn’t fight the K-pop wave, and it was better to just embrace it. As such, I’d like to share this link to a video of my favorite K-pop boy band, 2PM. (Album title: The Hottest Time of the Day.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUgReo37ECw
Please go watch this. It will bring you immeasurably closer to my experience here.

G-Dragon.

Japanese maple trees on my street

Ellen's last day in Korea

Just before my birthday, I sent Ellen off to India for Yoga school. We had a really nice last day in Seoul, taking care of our Christmas shopping at the market and eating samgyetang, which is a chicken and ginseng soup with supposed healing properties. It's no Campbells chicken soup, either. There's a WHOLE chicken in each bowl! Ellen made a friend. And, while on the topic of food, I got to help the women in my hapkido class make kimchi recently.

kimchi making

hot peppers ready for kimchi

Have we talked about kimchi? Kimchi is the traditional food of Korea. It's pickled cabbage (sometimes radishes) mixed with hot peppers. This, too, is better than it sounds. Now, at least. When I first got here I was fairly offended by it, but then this weird thing happens like four months in and you start to just crave it. Then you start to be able to judge its quality, and you can be properly offended if you go to a restaurant and they serve you the crappy kimchi because they figure you're a foreigner and won't notice. That's when you know you're going to make it here. Anyway, I was mostly a mule on kimchi day, hauling 500 pounds of wet cabbage up several flights of stairs to the kimchi room. It was right after class, so I was dressed in my hapkido suit. I have never felt so Korean!

earning my red belt

If the hourly reminders weren’t enough, I’m assaulted by Christmas cheer so bold and bright it’s nearly offensive each time I walk into the Lotte Mart. There are artificial trees of every shape and size in a flashing display of gold and silver, draped in violently pink tinsel and blue lights. I don’t quite remember Christmas being so neon at home, but I’m sure it isn’t so different than the Wal-Mart displays.

this little kid was adorable

so many people at the snowboarding deal!

No matter. It’s bound to be a nontraditional Christmas for me, which ever way you look at it. It’s my first one away from home and nothing feels quite right. I’ve managed to block my location on the internet so as to get Pandora playing holiday music, and although I sent out Christmas cards and gifts for the family home last month, I still can’t quite sense Christmas in the air just yet. That's not to say there aren't wintry events. Yesterday, I went to a pre-Olympic qualifying snowboarding event in Seoul with Hannah, Michelle and our Korean friend, Ben. This is the first time the event has been held in a city center, so it was super packed, and it was a very cool deal. Still, Christmas is a time to give in and think about home, so here goes.

There’s no snow here, for one thing. I know it happens, because there was snow on the ground last February when I first arrived. We’ve had a couple dustings. But it’s nothing like the thigh-deep mess I’m used to. For once, I wouldn’t even mind that, because I don’t have to drive myself anywhere here. It’s all different. Consider: I haven’t made the standard harrowing journey home from Idaho, a normally four-hour trip turned into six by torturous back roads, painted slick with black sheets of ice by the Grinch himself. I haven’t faced Mom’s reproving looks at my disproportionate ratio of rum to hot butter mix, nor suffered through thirteen consecutive screenings of Ralphie showing how the piggies eat. There won’t be any strange but welcome run-ins with old high school friends doing last minute shopping runs. The priest at St. Joe’s, who always managed to make even Christmas a heavy-hearted affair, refusing proper decorations until the Eve, won’t be insisting we forsake thoughts of shiny papered packages beneath our trees. As to that, I didn’t get to see Dad struggle to put up the tree this year, muttering decidedly unChristmasy words beneath his breath. I have opted to go with the significantly less sentimental Christmas Bamboo Stand this year, as I’m morally opposed to fake Christmas trees, and a solid Douglas Fir is hard to come by here.

And it definitely isn’t Christmas without incessantly arguing with my three siblings over—well, anything. Music selection. Board games. Ornament placement; that’s always been a big issue of contention. Andrew lacks the spatial awareness to place the heavier ones near the trunk, on the inner boughs, and Matthew refuses to throw away the homemade ornaments from our Catholic school youth, although Mom has secretly been tossing about six or seven a year in her quest for “just once, a really nice Christmas tree.” She thinks we don’t know. And they all think I’m too bossy. I probably am. “Little Miss Perfect,” Julie should be sneering, right about now. “Who never does any tiny little thing wrong, ever.”

I remember when I was in high school, trying to escape Family Decorating Night. I wanted to run off with my best friends, or go to a party where someone’s parents had left Schnapps, or later, to indulge in mistletoe-inspired mischief with my boyfriend. There was always somewhere else to be. All that family togetherness was so embarrassing. Who were we, the Waltons?

I miss it now.

Don’t misunderstand me: I’m aware that my situation is not particularly unique. There are millions of displaced people all around the world now, many of them, also, quietly humming Bing Crosby tunes to themselves. I won’t be alone, but will be spending the holiday with the aformentioned Michelle and Hannah. Although I’m far away, my interim country is not war-torn, and I won’t be dodging bombs or taking guard duty. I have many wonderful experiences across more oceans to which I’m looking forward, and these dreams justify the distance. I know that occasional homesickness is what a traveler trades for adventure, and after all, it’s only fair. I’m lucky to have a reason to long for the faces and hearts of home. All in all, there is much to be thankful for. And That’s what it’s all about, right? Wishing you a happy new year, and a Seoulful Christmas. Ha! Sorry, couldn’t resist.

written by  alli_ockinga on December 12, 2009 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: I go Korea!
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Michelle, Ben and me at the Snow Jam

As you may have guessed, in a land with a significant Buddhist overtone, Christmas isn't as big of a cultural deal here. There are a few department stores echoing the American bombardment of holiday cheer, but overall, it's a much more low-key affair. So the holiday was celebrated a bit differently this year. I had a four-day weekend, almost all of which was spent with my surrogate family at Hannah and Michelle's apartment. We spent the Eve watching Christmasy movies and drinking our homemade eggnog and mulled wine, then went our separate ways for Christmas morning to call our real families. We got a skiff of snow on Christmas day, which made us all happy.

Rock Tigers!

Christmas night, we met back up in Seoul for the Rock Tigers. These guys are awesome. They're a Korean rockabilly band, and they always put on an amazing show. Also, it seems
to be my lot in life to fall for completely unattainable Korean rock stars, so that happened, again, this time with the stand-up bass player. [A cautionary note for my more PC readers: extreme honesty ahead!] Still with me? Okay, so when I first got here, I was not psyched about the dating pool, because at first glance, all the men appeared to be gay.

The Rock Tiger that stole my heart

The North Tower at the top of Namsan Mountain

Seoul from the North Tower

And that wasn't even the coolest part. At the bottom of the Tower is the Lock Wall: a long chain-link fence enclosing the grounded observation deck, that people have turned into a monument to love. Koreans really love love, as you can see here. The tradition is to bring a padlock, and decorate it however you wish. Some got really elaborate, with etched pictures of couples and families, while others were just two names and a date. When you've inscribed your message on the padlock, you lock it to this fence, and pass the key on to someone else--children, best friends, your other half--and they return to the tower and look for your lock. It's a very beautiful, simple tradition. So, I locked my lock, and now I know that there will always be a little part of me still in Seoul, after I leave and live the rest of my life--because my Key People won't get them until I come home.

lock wall

Which, by the way, is five weeks plus two NZ months from now. WOW. By the way, I tested for and received my BLACK BELT last week, so look for that post soon. Hope everyone is enjoying the holidays!

written by  alli_ockinga on December 26, 2009 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: I go Korea!
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1. We ate blowfish!

I ate this!

Well. What's life without a little adventure. For a being with the alleged ability to create zombies, it was actually quite tasty. We ate it raw, as sushimi, and cooked over noodles and veggies, as bok. It's similar in taste and appearance to halibut. Evidently, our chef prepared the meal correctly, because we're all still here.

2. I GOT MY BLACK BELT!!

kids and me at the black belt test

3. Continual absorption of culture

King Sejong at Ghwangwamun Square

4.And, it's been snowing here, to the delight of pretty much everyone.

HOW CUTE IS THIS?!

I suppose that's enough for now. Hope everyone had a happy, fun and safe New Years. See you in three months!

written by  alli_ockinga on January 2, 2010 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: I go Korea!
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There’s so much that I’m going to miss here, and so much that I’m looking forward to when I get home. It seems like everything is double-edged, here. Like, I know I’ll long for the accessibility of Seoul’s public transportation, but I am thrilled to know I’ll never have to listen to another subway salesmen hawking pipe cleaners or spandex sleeves on the train. I can’t wait to go shopping and buy the pair of jeans I like the most, as opposed to the ones that offend me least; on the other hand, I love how people express themselves here by wearing whatever the hell they want and if you don’t like it then forget you. I like that there’s always someone in a weirder outfit than me here. This has not always been the case in my life.

I won’t miss how I attract attention to myself merely by existing. I’ll bid a cheerful farewell to my loyal companion Racial Discrimination, and his friend Blatant Sexism. I never did get used to the culture of indirectness, and I really, really really won’t miss the Korean woman whine. But oh, how I will miss not paying rent, ninja gymnastics, delicious street food for a dollar, and of course, my students and friends. I think I’ll probably see many of my teacher friends again. After all, it may be a big world, but it’s full of small circles. Then again, maybe I just don’t like saying goodbyes. My Korean friends are another matter. The Japanese word for goodbye—sayonara—literally means, “if this is how it must be.” I guess that’s how I feel about it. There are great people everywhere on earth, if you seek them out, and it’s a shame I can’t just pick my one hundred favorites and form a little haven full of them.

As for my students, some of them know I’m leaving, and some don’t yet. Of the ones that do, some are more tore up about it than others, as expected. They know that foreign teachers are a rotational bunch, and so the older ones are used to teacher changes. But my younger ones don’t understand why I’m going. It’s always hard to explain to people why you have to go away, and doubly so when those people are seven. There’s a handful of them that I’m always going to wonder about. Did Tae Sun ever become a robot scientist like she wanted? Did Kyu Hyuk ever learn to tie his shoes? Fingers crossed for that kid. Hopefully they’ve been able to learn a little from me this year, if not about grammar, then at least that foreigners are people too.

I know I have been changed by Korea, but it’s hard to say just how right now. I think that I’m a little less a citizen of a nation and a little more a resident of the world. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that people are essentially the same all over the world, albeit with different packaging. The society is different, and so are the words we use to talk about it, but we’re all singing the same songs.

And so, I take off in a week. Not just me; most of my friends’ contracts end in the next month or so, as well. Additionally, Hannah’s teenaged brother, Jonny, has been here the past month, visiting on his semester break from college. Last night, we took him out to a noraebang. Literally, a noraebang is a small “singing room,” just like your own private karaoke place, only big enough for about six people. (I’m happy to report that Koreans have lived up to the stereotype of Asians loving karaoke.) Amidst the musical chaos and flashing lights, we asked him what he’ll be telling his college friends about Korea.

“Lots and lots of people,” he said. Right.
And about English teachers living in Korea?
“Lots and lots of beer.” Right…so, we didn’t manage to subvert that particular stereotype. Well. One thing at a time.

written by  alli_ockinga on January 23, 2010 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: I go Korea!
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This one might only make sense to people that have actually lived and tried, valiantly, to understand this country:
http://dokdoisours.blogspot.com/
I don't know. I'm currently having a hard time remembering who I was before here.

And this is probably one of the greatest things to hit the internet, ever. Period. Go to Ask A Korean. For starters, check out the translated North Korea jokes:
http://askakorean.blogspot.com/2010/01/ask-korean-news-north-korean-jokes.html

Peace!

written by  alli_ockinga on January 25, 2010 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: I go Korea!
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