SungSou, a friend from Madison, is both a Business major and a French major, while being practically fluent in English. We were finally able to see him on Friday for the first time in months, and what a treat it was! We met near Hangkuk University of Foreign Studies, where he attends, so that we could be exposed to a true Korean university experience. After wandering down winding alleys lined with brightly-decorated restaurants with delicious-smelling offerings, he led us into a packed restaurant. The decor was quintessently made for university students: christmas lights strung on the ceilings, enormous soju posters hung on the walls, and markers all around so that everyone might discover their hidden artistic talents, with only the walls having to pay a small sacrifice. Regardless, the restaurant is apparently famous for its delicious, enormous, and best of all, cheap pajeon. And, surprise surprise, it lived up to its reputation! Deeeelicious. (Pajeon is a type of doughy Korean pancake, usually stuffed with seafood, green onions, and whatever else is around the kitchen that the cook is trying to get rid of. A favorite!)

Being wooed by Adam's amazing French skills

Basking in the French-speaking glow

The day itself was less than ideal, as it was overcast with a slight drizzle falling throughout the course of the afternoon. But this soon did not seem to matter, as I

Before the candy-bribing begins

The majority of the rest of the afternoon was spent traipsing around as Dooly the Dinosaur), asking all of the children if they wanted pieces of candy.

Just doing ourthing...

Dooly and the students

Of course the students are smiling, they just received candy!

All of the lucky native speakers

Clothing plays a central role in most cultures, even if the members do not comprehend the full implications of their style of physical representation. Originally used solely as protection from the elements of nature, it has evolved to become one of the most visible forms of self expression that most individuals have access to. It betrays one's social status, their general level of income, their preferred tastes, and even, if we dare take it this far, their general outlook on life. One who invests heavily in their appearance most likely has a greater concern for a need of acceptance than those who are willing to don whatever is closest to their reach. While obviously impossible to make blanket statements about all countries’ manner of dress, a closer analysis reveals certain patterns reveal general attitudes about the role of others in one’s personal path of self acceptance.

The state of one’s appearance takes on a pivotal role in the Korean culture, so much that both men and women care equally about how they are perceived by others. Each student has their own personal mirror and comb, which they use multiple times in a single class period. The girls use curlers in the morning to ensure that their straight hair has just the proper amount wave to it throughout the day, and even the boys constantly adjust their hair so that it falls “just right”. My friend Nick’s Korean cell phone has a second purpose when not lit up: the screen becomes a mirror so that one will never have to be without a reflective surface again!

The obsession goes past one’s physical appearance to include a rigorous upkeep of one’s wardrobe. Fashion trends have never moved through a country as quickly as they do here. If any particular manner of dress has been modeled somewhere in the world, the Koreans will adopt it as their own, add their own twist to make it authentically Korean, and continue the style until a new and better one arrives to take its place. While almost all trends are accepted, very few people stray from what they already know will be met with approval. Yet from an outsider’s perspective, it seems as though the people of this country are willing to pay whatever it takes in order to insure that they look the same as everyone else.

I am beginning to wonder if ties can be drawn between the intrinsic values that the culture has purported since each person’s birth and the dedication to a collective faction. Instead of believing in the ideal of individuality of the West, Koreans believe that it is always better to be seen as part of the group than as a separate individual. All actions are undertaken only once they have been confirmed as not disrupting the harmonious balance that the culture strives to maintain between the various Confucian relationships of the people. Perhaps the obsession with their appearance can be attributed largely to the fact that they strive to remain seen as belonging to the crowd, and not as people with their own sense of individuality. Or, expressed in a different way, Korean people seek their version of individuality through the ideals that their culture has prescribed to them, and see their clothing as an ideal opportunity to confirm that they do indeed belong to the collective whole.

written by  Rachel in Korea! on October 29, 2008 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: South Korea, 2008-2009
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The hike itself was within my range of capability, but my small fear of heights was tapped as we neared the top. The peak of the moutain is nothing but boulders, and in order to get to the top without needing a harness and some sturdy rope, we had to climb a staircase that somehow managed to forget that it needed actual stairs. It's true! It was a red skeleton of what it should have been, so every step up was only a few bars ineffectively hiding the distance to the safe ground below. But the staircase from hell was absolutely worth it once we got to the top and were able to see the scenery surrounding us. What beauty!

The Koreans are fiercly proud of their mountainous region, and it is not at all difficult to understand why. The mountains have assumed themselves as part of the Korean character, and have provided an unprecedented backdrop on which the scenes of Korean history have been played. Much of the culture of Korea revolves around the influence that the mountains have had on everyday life.

People come to the mountains seeking a brief respite from the chaos into which their lives have evolved. Throughout the hike, I felt as though I was not only partaking in a typical pasttime of Korea, but also being shown a sliver of the origin of the intoxicatingly fierce nationalistic pride.

written by  Rachel in Korea! on October 20, 2008 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: South Korea, 2008-2009
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Fiction: I actually don't have a mailing address to call my own. BUT,
Fact: I'm mooching off of the oh-so-generous Koreans at my school and using theirs instead. Take THAT, Korea!

Here it is:
Rachel Bowline
482-870)
171 Sinsal-ri Nam-myeon
Yangju-si Gyeonggi-do
South Korea

How do I know this is right? Because the parents were the first brave souls to attempt what seemed to be the impossible: sending precious gifts of English books over the Pacific. And, I found out exactly one hour ago on the minute, it actually worked. Even though the address is in the Latin script. Ohh, how I love the globalization of the English language! Not only has it given me a job in a foreign country where I have no clue the exact reason why I'm here, but it also allows me and everyone back home the privilege of not even having to attempt writing in Korean. Go us.

Technically there is still the address of my apartment, but I have a feeling that one is not to be trusted. Why, you might ask? Refer to the points listed below:
1. The Entrance to the mailbox is a slit less than one centimeter wide.
2. The slit is proven pointless when one realizes that all one has to do is open the mailbox. It opens for everyone.
3. The box itself is rather small. Maybe big enough for a Chipotle burrito with chicken, guacamole, corn salsa, cheese, and sour cream, but that's it. Not as though that's a hint. :)
4. Packages do not seem to be allowed in the building. There is nowhere for them to be put, shoved, or otherwise dealt with.

Regardless, the one at the school seems to work fine. I will continue to bribe the administration to give me packages in exchange for homebaked cookies. These function as their weight in gold over here! Ohhh, Korea.

written by  Rachel in Korea! on October 09, 2008 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: South Korea, 2008-2009
tagged NamMun
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One of the teachers seems to have taken a liking to me. She's extremely sweet, speaks broken English, but has really tried to show me how much she cares. For example, as a token of her affection, a few weeks ago she came to school with a big jug of kimchi. She was so proud! Especially when she told me that she had dug it up from underground where she had been storing it for the last three months! Apparently they believe that the longer it sits in the soil, surrounded by the natural elements, the longer it has the chance to fermet and become truly delicious. That jug is still sitting in the back of the refridgerator, unopened and without hope of ever being eaten.

Yesterday was even better. I was sitting in the library (on the opposite side of the school campus) when she found me. In her hand was a plastic bag, and I was immediately more than a bit wary. A second later, she pulled out a sandwich in a fast food wrapper with as much pride and delicacy as if she were handling a newborn. "This," she whispered, "is a shrimp hamburger I bought for you LAST NIGHT." She had been keeping it in her desk all morning for safekeeping, eagerly anticipating the moment she could bequeath me with her delicious prize. Feeling it, I knew she spoke the truth: it was indeed a cold, leftover shrimp burger from the night before. She asked me to take a bite, I did, and all I could stutter was, "Delicious!"

written by  Rachel in Korea! on October 09, 2008 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: South Korea, 2008-2009
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I continue to adjust to my new life over here, and am constantly reminded of the very different culture in which I have been submerged. There are moments in which I feel as though I have become accustomed to various aspects of my new life, only to be somewhat unexpectedly reminded that it is a danger to become too comfortable in a situation that refuses to allow the process to be an easy one.

School remains a priority for me, which will hopefully be a pattern I can continue to maintain. After-school classes have been going well, with the students seeming extremely willing to learn and engage with the material I provide. Whether or not the rest of the school's students are willing to learn is another story, but I'm determined to push them to discover their potential. One struggle for me is realizing how much the teachers oftentimes aren't willing to put for the energy to care enough about the personal tribulations and triumphs of each of the students, instead only looking at how the performance of the students is reflected on the school's reputation. I'm slowly learning when to push for change and when to accept things the way that they are presented to me. It's not easy, as I'd much rather be allowed to customize the circumstances into what I think would be ideal, but I've realized that while my opinion matters as that of a foreigner, it is seen more as an interesting spectacle rather than something to seriously consider.

The see-sawing scenario at school has led me to pursue interests outside with much more ardor than I might have been willing to exert had circumstances been different. Friendships have been initiated, which are constantly leading me into directions that I would not have expected myself to have taken based solely on my own accord. Growing in directions that I did not even know existed has already provided me with new adventures, both externally and within. Who knows what will happen in a year's time?

Continue to check back for future updates. While time spent exploring life here is precious, equally important is maintaining the ties with life back home. As adventurous as I'd like to consider myself to be, I'm not quite sure if I can tackle this game we label life on my own.

Good things. :)

written by  Rachel in Korea! on September 30, 2008 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: South Korea, 2008-2009
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Last night Adam and I had the pleasure of being invited over to the high school gym teacher's home for dinner with his family. Wanting to bring something as a gesture to say thanks, we asked both of our co-teachers what the proper gift is. And get this: whenever Koreans go over to each other's homes for dinner, the traditional thing to bring is boxes and boxes of tissues. The teacher that we went with brought SIX boxes. (As a sidenote, whenever anyone has a housewarming party, typically about 90% of the guests bring the lucky family laundry detergent. Where do they put it all?!)

We didn't exactly feel like adding to what I can only assume is an overstuffed closet bursting with tissue boxes, so we decided to play up the foreigner card and bring a cake. Yet what was supposed to be a fallback on our blissful vision of normalcy became instead a clash of cultures. When we went to the bakery to pick out our offering of gratitude, the lady behind the counter kept asking how old our baby was turning! After unsuccessfully insisting that the cake was not going to be for the birthday of our nonexistent child, I finally caved in and accepted the pushy woman's offering of a candle for the fateful moment of presentation. But, with a twinkle in her eye, she outfitted our cake with FIVE candles and TWO noisemakers. Not to mention the decoration of two hearts stuck in the middle of the cake with "Sweet Love" splashed between the two. If I had been able to stop laughing, I might have noticed how nice of a presentation it would have been for the make-believe baby.

The dinner itself was delicious. Mrs. Chae, the wife of the gym teacher, made a dish called bulgogi, which is apparently quite the hit with foreigners. As much as I hate falling into stereotypes, I fell into this one as if it were meant to be. The dish consists of thin strips of beef simmered with onions, carrots, and innumerable spices, served with bean rice. Mmmmm. The food continued to be served and the conversation was lively. It grew more and more boisterous as the alcohol continued to be served. Mr. Chae was very proud of his collection, boasting that he had over 30 different types of liquor. A strong Catholic, he perceived much of his controlled drinking as a way to stay healthy. I quickly understood why... The traditional soju was served, but other, more interesting drinks followed. First there was the fruit drink, which tasted like an extremely strong, aged port. To him, he claimed, since he couldn't taste the alcohol, it wasn't alcoholic. Huh, who knew? Next came the most popular liquor of Taiwan, which he picked up during his travels. At 58%, it burned the entire way down, but I somehow managed a smile amidst the choking. Last was the most interesting. Most likely something that I will never, ever, even if I wanted to, forget. It came from a 3-liter case in the back corner of the cabinet, reserved for special occasions and, as he was proud to share, aged for three years. It was some sort of homemade concoction that had now-colorless white carrots fermenting at the bottom. It tasted like a mixture of sweet potatoes and seafood all at the same time, and I was secretly pleaing that there were no shrimp sharing the same fate as the carrots. Whew! I managed to get it down! That moment I felt almost as proud as when I managed to swallow boiled tofu in front of the teachers, with only minor gagging.

Thoughts of the carrot conconction from hell were quickly erased once the dinner had finished and the five year old twins were allowed to play. While eating the cake that we had brought (which tasted like marshmallows), the twins decided to make Adam and myself their personal playtime assistants. Sooo much fun! While the adults were glued to the TV to learn about the latest developments in North Korea, we chose to remain somewhat oblivious to the troubles of the world and instead remember what it was like to be amused by the some of the purest pleasures life has to offer.

Don't you wish life could always be so simple?

In order to be able to keep all of the screaming students straight, I sat them down and had them answer seven questions:
1. What is your name?
2. What is your favorite color?
3. What is your favorite food?
4. What is your favorite place?
5. What is your favorite kind of music?
6. What is your favorite subject in school?
7. What is your favorite activity to do after school?

By the end of my hour with the students, we had learned each other's names and how to successfully do the macarena. Who knows what will happen next?

written by  Rachel in Korea! on September 08, 2008 from Seoul, South Korea
from the travel blog: South Korea, 2008-2009
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Earlier in the week I was invited to a welcome dinner for the new foreign language teachers. I was told that the principle was so impressed with our first impression that she wanted to host an official dinner to welcome us to Korea. So, in true Korean fashion, an upscale sushi restaurant was chosen.

What an event! The dinner began at 5:30 and didn't finish until after 9. Even before the any of the food was brought to the table, soju bottles appeared and the principle along with the two vice principles of the schools offered up welcoming speeches and toasts. Unfortunately they were all in Korean but I guessed they were directed at us due to the continuous stares in our direction, and the mumbling of our names in the speeches. Either way, I was extremely impressed with the formalities exhibited by all of the teachers and administrators, who, while solemn in the dictates of tradition, were cheerful to the occasion and made us feel openly welcome to their group.

The group out for sushi

Throughout the meal, shots of soju were taken. This tradition was somewhat confusing for me. On one hand, I wanted to be polite

Adam serving my oppa (brother)

Overall, the meal was an absolute blast and circus all rolled into one. Despite the language barrier encountered with a few of the administrators, many laughs and smiles were shared. I'm beginning to understand the meaning behind the statement that offering a smile is speaking in the universal language that all people can understand. Evidence and examples of the traditions of Korea were numerous, and although I didn't understand all of them, went along with as much as I could, hoping that soon I will understand. But really, when surrounded by welcoming smiles, how can one possibly feel anything but content?

I'm learning!

After countless bottles of soju