Tuesday, December 31, 2013

A Poem, on Deskwarming

How much time can one person spend
     on Facebook
          or Buzzfeed
               or cooking blogs
                    or Slate
                         or wherever?
On Monday I cut circles out of cardboard.
Today I painted them:
Gold, Silver, and Brown
     (to pass for Bronze).
Next I will glue ribbons to them.
               Also,
I watch television
     on my computer.
Then I go on the internet

                         yet

                         again.

(Forgive me this sarcastic exercise.)

Monday, December 30, 2013

My Monday Posts Have Grown Boring

Everything I want to write about on a Monday seems too personal to write about. The need for self-preservation does rear its ugly head when one is alone and left to one's own thoughts. It doesn't really matter how secure, settled, and content one feels at other times. That might even make it worse.

The fact remains that I'm transient, that my life is painfully and wonderfully unstructured and free. I have no idea what I want to do with myself. I love teaching *under certain circumstances* and I love writing *about some things* and I love traveling *in a particular way.* What the sweet hell will I be like when I'm older and even more set in my ways? Thank God I did travel and push myself out of my boundaries, because otherwise I'd be a hermit for sure.

So I have these ideas. These grand goddamned plans. But no real steps are taken towards them, because that would be terrifying.

(It's not that I don't think my life is real life. It totally is, and thus far I wouldn't change the choices I've made. It's just that there is... more? something else? The word is hard to find. Whatever it is, I'm starting to want that.)

And the hilarious thing is how well I seem to trick everyone. Everybody seems to think I'm this capable, rational adult. People think I'm a good teacher. Friends and colleagues trust me to organize things and come to me for help. Smart people (much smarter than me, for sure) take my advice! (The really funny thing is I was just telling someone to not worry, that we all feel like frauds. And here I go. I can't even have original crises.)

I really should not be left alone. I literally have not spoken a word out loud today. 8 hours to myself and I freak out.

This part is not a freak out: I think I want to go home. Home, as in the USA. Not right now, and I don't know for how long. I'm not sure where or what I would do there, though I do have ideas. There. I've written it down, so now it's time to make plans instead of just thinking thoughts.

Today I made 72 4-cm diameter cardboard circles. I seriously underestimated the amount of time that would take, though it probably would have taken less had I not stopped every few circles to do absolutely nothing on the internet.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

One, Two, One-point-two

Sometimes, I just want things to be simple. I want things to fall into my lap, and be easy. And, sometimes, they are. Sometimes they are beautifully easy. You hold them gently in your cupped hands, staring at them with wonder, afraid to blink, scared to believe they exist. You touch them, ever so softly, and find that they push back under your fingers, tangible. Real.

On a totally unrelated note, I've been relying on Youtube for music since the untimely death of my external hard drive in August. I was feeling like listening to some Shakira, so now I'm watching those videos. Sweet. Baby. Jesus. Her new (to me) videos are some of the sexiest things I've ever seen. Even the one with literal break dance fighting.

On a semi-related note, after I had my monthly soul-crushing sob alone in my classroom today (stupid Christmas, stupid womanhood, stupid uncertainty), my coteachers noticed my state. They all surged into action. I now have an action committee. They really are beautiful people.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Jimjilbang

I spent Christmas day with my friend Tiffany, eating crazy pretzels for breakfast, bingsu for lunch, and Burger King for dinner. We paid a quick visit to the beach this morning, but spent most of the day at the spa. Now, in Korea, spa doesn't mean what it means in the States.

Basically, it's the 70s here in Korea. If you know what I mean.

I also endeavoured to remove every cell of dead skin from my body with the help of a pink scratchy rag and, given that I still glow a faint pink, I think I did an ok job of it. I sauna-ed for a bit, and spent some time in the outdoor rock spa as well. There is just something about being naked outside, particularly in the winter, that makes me feel calm and connected to the world. (Seriously; I'm not being snide there.)

So it was a good day, and I'm not sad any more. Which means that today's plans of distraction did their job. Success!
outside the train station upon arriving in Busan

Haeundae beach

on the train home

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

A Blog that Evolved in a Surprising (?) Way

As I get older, I feel things harder. More intensely. This is somewhat upsetting.

It's Christmas Eve, and it's my first Christmas away from home. I'm pretending that it's not happening. I have tomorrow off work, so Tiffany and I are going to Busan. We're renting a love motel and drinking wine while watching movies tonight. Tomorrow we'll spend the day at Spa World before heading home in the evening. I'll make some phone calls tomorrow morning, others tomorrow night, and still others Thursday morning... adjusting to different schedules on the other side of the world.

I won't open any presents. I won't eat any cookies. I won't cling shrieking to my father's back as we tear across the frozen pond, Otto chasing us, ears tucked in a high-speed, low-drag configuration. I most certainly will not watch It's a Wonderful Life. There won't be shrimp for dinner tonight, or kielbasa for breakfast tomorrow, or any pierogies at all. I won't go to Nayaug Park and laugh at the monstrosities of Christmas light hubris. I won't run out into the cold night with no coat to take pictures of the Christmas house, pictures that I already have from years and years before but feel compelled to take just the same.

Of course, I might not have done those things even if I'd been in the States. This Christmas would have been different.

Some of my officemates brought in chicken and pizza, so we ate that. I didn't have the heart (or the vocabulary) to tell them that I'd never eaten meat on Christmas Eve before. So I ate it.

I'm not Catholic anymore, I don't think. I certainly don't attend mass, and I don't hold with the teachings of the church. I guess I'm one of those super-typical lapsed Catholics. But things like eating meat on holy days still sit wrong with me. It's hypocritical and silly of me to feel that way, but there it is. I still feel that rush of anticipation before I enter a church, and I still feel God glaring down at me while I'm inside, demanding to know where I've been.

This weekend I wound up spending a few minutes inside of a church. Not a Catholic one, but still. It was the first time I'd been inside a church for reasons other than tourism in years. I guess I attended mass a few times while working in Spain, but I spent that time shushing children, and was obligated to attend, so it doesn't actually count. I'm not sure when I last attended Christmas mass with my family: definitely not last year, and I don't think the year before that, either. But then I was going to not cause a fuss, and I didn't participate in the communion, so I don't think that actually counts, either. I think the last time I willingly entered a church for the purposes of religion was for Ash Wednesday service in 2012. Then, I sat like an interloper, listening to the service in a language I spoke, but not quite well enough, and slipped out before the ashes were actually administered, feeling greasy and guilty. Before that, I have no idea.

Not that my few minutes inside of a church this weekend count as going to church. But it was still a little bit strange, and it got me thinking, and feeling.

Plus, it's Christmas.

One of my happiest memories is sitting in a series of Christmas Eve masses, sitting in the semi-dark, and all of a sudden the lights would come on, and the congregation would surge to its feet as one, and everyone would sing. Joy to the world! Joy to young Lauren, at least.

Generally, I deride religion. It leads to so much silliness, and suffering, and just general close-minded awfulness. But I do miss that certainty, that feeling of calm, the ritual of my prayers before bed. I miss the community of mass: everyone, all around the world, reading the same words in their own tongue each weekend, taking the same meal, reciting the same creeds. I miss that connectedness.

I still feel it. I feel it when I lock eyes with a stranger and feel their soul touch mine. I feel it in nature. I feel it with couchsurfing. I feel it when I touch my friends and loved ones. I feel it when a warm breeze caresses my cheek. I feel it in kindness and sadness. It's just less predictable now. I have to chase it a bit harder, and catch it a bit faster when it dances, fleeting, in the corner of my eye. I have to hold onto it a bit tighter.

So maybe I don't believe in the Church. But I certainly believe in love, and I definitely believe in people, and please trust that I believe in you.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Camp Book

Merry Christmas to me! Today I received a coteacher who can speak English (for a limited time only, but I'll take what I can get), a box from my mom full of snowboots and chocolate, and my camp book in from the printer! What a labor of love: 50 pages, tons of text, SO MUCH unseen editing work, images, graphics, etc. Four days of camp in a little booklet. I'm so proud.

the title page and my Santa hat
camp schedule
border crossing dialogues and some of the countries that we'll visit
codes
Spanish meals

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Wasting Time

Every two weeks, we have to update and scan our work computers. This is a six-step process, each step containing a series of smaller sub steps. All in Korean.
My coworkers could do this for me, being that they speak Korean, in three minutes. But every two weeks I have to do it. And it takes me about two hours as I click on buttons that I don't understand.
Click. Red.
Click. Red.
Click. Red.
Literally hours later... Click. Green.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Feeling Better

Is there anything worse than getting sick? I always feel as if my body has betrayed me. (Though actually in this instance I sort of betrayed my body. I certainly have been overdoing it with the stress, and not balancing that with the proper amount of vegetables and exercise. It's no wonder that I fell into the sneaky grasp of the ear infection monster.)

On the other hand, getting better after even a short illness shines a bright light on my own luckiness, the kind that I normally forget about. I can breathe! Air flows into my nose and gives me the power to go about my day without getting exhausted and light-headed! How damned amazing is that?

I'm lucky in other ways. I have some incredible friends. Two friends visited me (well, Daejeon, not just me) this weekend. I met them at the train station and was immediately crushed into one of those hugs that sort of hurts while simultaneously smashing all your broken pieces back where they belong. After dropping them at their hotel, I went and had dinner with my coteacher and her husband. The food was not that awesome, but the invitation, the kind welcoming warmth of it, was keenly felt. Then it was out again, for drinks and noraebang (karaoke) with all my favorite people in Korea: a super fun night.

Sunday morning I lay on my warm floor, the sun peeking in through my too-sheer curtains, all wrapped up. I dozed in and out of focus, too content and calm to do anything except listen (I barely remember what to, which goes to show how truly my focus had gone) and watch dust motes waft glowing around the room. My muscles relaxed, my jaw unclenched, and I melted into a little limp puddle. It's so rare for me to feel calm like that. It was really hard for me to drag myself out into the real world again.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Diligence

In Korea, you are expected to work. If you are not dead, then you are at work. My coteacher is like 14 months pregnant, and she's at work, wheeling about in her desk chair and hitting the students on the head with papers when they misbehave. (I'll miss her so.)

So I have an ear infection (granted, this is a self-diagnosed ear infection since the doctor wouldn't even look in my damned ear yesterday when I went complaining of severe ear pain, but since I've had an ear infection at least yearly for my entire life, I feel confident of this judgement). I'm congested as hell and can barely speak. But I'm at work! My coteachers tried to send me back down to the nurse's office to rest, but I insisted that I can go to class and watch the "How to Train your Dragon" Christmas special. So I'm skipping the first two lessons, where the kids are actually learning, and sitting in my office blowing my disgusting nose, coughing pathetically, and blogging. I'll "teach" from 10:40-12:10, eat lunch, teach again from 13:10-13:50, and then go sleep in the nurse's office until it's time to go home.

In the meantime, I'm sure I'll infect one of my coteachers with some sort of horrifying funk. Will it be the pregnant one, the one with a three-month-old baby, or the one with an immunodeficiency?

I was not a fan of Hungary's policy of "Oh, you've got a cold? Stay home for two weeks." But I have to say, I'm not a fan of Korea's "Oh, you've got a cold? Come to work and then do nothing!" policy either. What's wrong with staying home for a day or two and actually getting better?

Monday, December 16, 2013

Nothing to Say

Except I have a million things to say, really. Too many things, all jumbled up together in my mind. I've had this window open since I got home this afternoon, and I got home early because it turns out I have an ear infection. I've kept returning to stare at it. I've just got too many thoughts right now, all disorganized in my head, pushing and jostling at each other.

So I guess I'll go back to bed.

Friday, December 13, 2013

7 Photos for (the rest of) Kyoto

I've already talked about Sangusangendo Temple and the Karamon Gate of Nishi-Honganji, but what else did I do during my day in Kyoto? Well, as always, I mainly walked around. Mainly I looked at my map and walked to the next thing that appealed to me. So I checked out some temples, some markets, and a cemetery. I bought a few things, mainly from an artist that created the most adorably whimsical pictures of wee bunnies having adventures. I also ate udon and sashimi that I watched be cut from the side of a fish in a fishmonger's. Here is a bit of what I saw.

lily pads at the Toji temple grounds
one of the buildings in the Nishi-Honganji complex
a gate in the Kiyomizu-dera complex
more of the Kiyomizu-dera complex
overlooking the city
Hi!
udon

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Rant. Not *entirely* safe for work.

Huuuuuu, have I got a temper on me. (Cue my family deadpanning a "You don't say?")

So, first of all, camp. In January I'm going to have to lead a four-day camp twice. We'll be using the same camp both times, so I just have 16 hours of lessons to plan. I was told that I should pick a theme, and prepare fun activities for the kids to do. Now, silly Lauren, I assumed that being given almost no direction or guidance meant that I had pretty broad freedom to plan what I wanted, with the normal expectations regarding cost, safety and appropriateness.

*Excuse me while I go laugh hysterically for a bit. And I'm using the original definition of hysteria there. (Well, not the one about women being sexually unfulfilled, I guess, but the "emotionally unhinged" one.)*

Ok, I'm back. As it turns out, there were all sorts of expectations on camp! Like, really incredibly detailed wants and expectations. Which I was supposed to know psychically! Now, for one thing, my idea of "fun educational activities" is apparently totally off. Because, in my mind, both of those descriptors are valid. Here, though, I'm apparently expected to just preside over absolute chaos, as the students (fifth and sixth graders!) finger paint, make sandwiches on their desks, and play with balloons.

Those aren't me being snide. Those are real things that I apparently should have planned for these adolescents.

I planned a Eurorail themed camp with cross-curricular activities. The plan is to make passports and then "travel" to different countries. In Hungary we'll do paper art, in Sweden we'll learn about the Aurora Borealis, in Spain we'll make tapas, and so on. I was pretty darn pleased with what I created. I thought it was educational, interesting, mostly fun. I was excited to teach it and I thought the kids would like it, too.

Here's the thing. I don't buy into the whole "learning should be super fun all the time" educational concept. I think learning should be interesting, compelling, rewarding... and often fun, sure. But the sad fact of life is that life is not super happy fun times all the time. Life is waiting in line, buying the boring healthy cereal, staring at your horrible work computer as it takes three minutes to complete a google search, and so on. So yeah, sorry kids, but sometimes you have to sit through three minutes of boring exposition so that you can have the context to justify spending an hour-and-a-half building castles and then staging battles. I think the trade-off is pretty fair, but apparently those kids are going to just slit their wrists from the boredom of taking a second to consider whether a square is stronger than a circle and why.

And here's the other thing. If what was wanted was a totally fun camp totally lacking in any sort of pedagogical justification, I could have planned that camp. I would have rolled my eyes, but I would have planned it because I'm used to just doing what I'm told after this many years abroad. But don't tell me that I can do whatever I want, and that it should be nicely educational, and then expect balloon volleyball. I have a damned degree in this stuff, and you never let me use it, so don't tease me with that carrot and then replace the carrot with disorganized, non-contextualized finger painting.

Ok. So that's camp. Why don't you go get a nice cup of tea?

Then there is my landlady. Who is totally spying on me, because she has sent me messages stating exactly how often and, much more creepily, at what hours certain people are in my flat. With those messages has come the statement that she knows that Americans have more flexible morality, but that I'm in Korea now, and that I would do well to pay attention to Korean standards of morality. (She also flipped out because I lent a chair to my neighbor. Which, I mean, I paid a freaking enormous security deposit, so if the chair gets damaged, take it out of that.)

So I'm fairly certain that she's been coming into my flat without warning or permission. Which is totally not allowed, even here. At the very least, she is watching the CCTV for me like a hawk.

Regardless, she is not my mother, nor my priest. So what I do (quietly and in a nondisruptive fashion) in my own apartment is none of her business. I could have ten people in here having orgies, and as long as we don't disturb the neighbors or break the furniture, she can go suck it. So, yes, there is one gentleman caller over here somewhat often now. If that makes her so angry, and if she cares so much about some misguided morality, then she shouldn't rent to foreigners! Problem solved! In the meantime, I'll go about having my sweet and non-scandalous relationship, and please leave me alone, crazy witch.

I'm willing to bet so much money that she hasn't said a word to my male Korean neighbor who watches really loud porn and masturbates loudly at all random hours of the day and night. I despise the foreigner/female double standard so much.

One last thing. I promise.

My coworkers are forcing me to teach singing. Not to use songs to teach vocabulary or do exercises, but just to spend one forty-minute lesson learning a single Christmas pop song. As one friend figured out, that's going to be, at a conservative estimate, 220 minutes of Mariah Carey. Nobody should have to live through that. I explained that I wasn't comfortable teaching singing, and maybe they could lead the lesson, or we could watch a movie, but no. Nope. They want me to do it. And it has to be singing, and it has to be pop Christmas music, not even proper carols.

I have not asked to not do a single thing all school year. You'd think the one time I do that request would be honored, but you'd be mistaken.

I'm so angry today. It's beautiful outside. The snow is falling in big flakes that flock the trees. But even that can't cheer me up.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Not Blogging Today

If I blogged today, it would just be swear words.

So, here. A lovely song that nobody reading this will understand. This was actually Hungary's Eurovision entry last year. I did not like it at the time, but it's grown on me for sure.


Nincs most más, csak a kedvesem, az én kedvesem, ő
Bárhol jár, az úgy jó nekem, az úgy jó nekem, mert
Mindig rám talál, az én kedvesem, az én kedvesem
Úgy dúdolná: Ez így jó nekem, ez így jó nekem

Monday, December 9, 2013

Kyoto's Karamon Gate

The Nishi-Honganji Temple ("Western Temple of the Original Vow") Gate sits tucked down an alleyway in Kyoto. You walk down it, surrounded by plain tan walls, and then you catch sight of the Karamon Gate, or Chinese Gate. It was constructed in 1573 and just drips with detail. I think I stood looking at it for a full ten minutes.





Friday, December 6, 2013

Teacher Trip

I'm about to depart on an overnight trip to an island with most of the teachers from my school. Here is the schedule, kindly translated (in brief) for me:

Friday
3:30 Departure
5:00 Arrive and settle in
5:30 Raw Fish Dinner (yum!)
7:00 Party

Saturday
8:00 Breakfast
9:00 Bus
9:30 Forest Time
10:20 Bus
11:00 Walk Among the Reeds (sounds poetic)
11:50 Bus
12:00 Lunch
1:00 Bus
1:10 Fabric Museum
2:10 bus
2:30 Bird Exhibit
3:30 Bus
3:50 Market
4:30 Bus
6:00 Arrive Home

Will I wind up drunk on this teacher trip, as I have on all others abroad? Will the bus be a karaoke bus? Will the raw fish be the still-wiggling octopus so popular here? Will I fall into a body of water? Check back on Monday for the answers to these and other pressing concerns.

Yay, a rant post!

(I can't embed at work, just click.)

This video just breaks my heart.

Is it any surprise that young people, and young girls in particular, are so obsessed with the way they look? Or that they think how they look doesn't measure up? In a world filled to the brim with images of perfection, how is real life supposed to compare? I'm not going to go into the whole photoshop rant. It's been done, and it can be found ad nauseum on the internet.

I would be absolutely terrified to raise daughters. I mean, the thought of raising children in general is a pretty scary one. But daughters, man. How do people go about that these days? It's all a terrifyingly fine line to walk. Girls can be anything they want to be... but you don't want to lie to them, either. How do you teach a girl that she should never walk home alone with earbuds in without terrifying her? How do you teach her to keep herself fit and healthy without making her feel ugly? How do you encourage her to study what she wants without pushing an agenda? And so on and so forth.

When I was a kid, I certainly thought other kids were ugly. But now, as an adult (and I think especially as an educator), I don't think there is a single kid on this earth that is ugly. Kids are beautiful! But goodness me, I can understand where they're coming from.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Masochism

Looking out the window at the thick, soupy haze that is covering the square concrete buildings of 전민동, I decided to google image search "Christmas Budapest."

Yeah, that was a bad choice. Most csak vágyom a forralt borra, a kürtõskalácsra, és egy kis somlóira.

Don't get me wrong, I dig it here. But there aren't Christmas markets, so there is absolutely no socially acceptable way for me to while away an afternoon drinking mulled wine from plastic cups and eating liver sausage. The streets don't twinkle with lights dripping from every tree. The smell of chestnuts and cinnamon don't fill the air. Snow doesn't crunch under my feet and children don't give me gifts of mandarins studded with cloves. Nobody is singing carols or force-feeding me gingerbread or even (shudder) beigli. I don't have a stove, so I won't be making mountains of cookies to bring into work. There are no advent wreaths to roll my eyes at in class.

I guess I just miss walking up to people I know and kissing them twice on the face. That feels much more Christmas-y than bowing. 

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Twinge

I feel a small twinge of perverse satisfaction when I screw with the Korean system. I just sat down on the bus next to a man who is older than me. I sat fully down, rather than half sitting on the edge of the seat. As a result, he had to *gasp* actually close his thighs and sit like a normal person. I can feel his displeasure and I do not care. It's six in the evening, dude. You don't get two seats to yourself, even if you are a middle-aged man.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Numbers

I had a whole day of deskwarming today (the kids were writing finals). So I wasted a lot of time on facebook, stole cardboard boxes from around the school, and ate many mandarins. I also graded the third grade tests (is there anything in the world more soothing than grading multiple-choice tests with a wax pencil?) and planned a bit more for camp. The most important thing I did today, though, was to write up my Christmas cards.

I'm sad that I won't be delivering them in person this year, but I think the fact that Christmas is such a non-event here will help me to forget about the sadness.

Writing the addresses and grading the tests, I realized that I've almost entirely stopped doing Hungarian-style numbers now. My ones are straight more often than they are hooked, and my nines don't look like gs anymore. I'm still struggling to adjust to the closed Korean four, but it's happening. That sort of makes me sad, too. Isn't it sort of funny, how even something as basic as how we write numbers can change in a new place?

Monday, December 2, 2013

Blogs

Aren't blogs a funny thing? Who decided that it would be a good idea to keep a diary, but publicly, on the internet?

My weekend:
Chicken, tv, sleep.
Conference, dinner, wine, more sleep.
Burrito, dog walking, dog escaping, dog catching, bleeding on the bus.
Grinning like an idiot.

I can't seem to stop with the grinning.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Thankful

I'm sort of in a dark place at the moment. I am just desperately homesick. Like, feeling a weight sitting on my heart, pressing down on my lungs, making it hard to breathe levels of homesickness. And the funny thing is that I'm homesick for America for the first time ever, or at least the first time that has lasted more than a few hours. I've been gone for so long that I was starting to think that I was immune to homesickness, that I truly was a nomad without a home, and that I could count myself as blessed for that immunity and the freedom it conferred. But I actually feel much more lucky for being homesick. I miss America! I miss the country on my own passport! What a crazy idea. Add to that Hungarian homesickness, and... wow. Expat Thanksgiving will happen this weekend, except that I won't be there. I'm so happy that it will happen, but I'm also really really sad.

(My first Thanksgiving in Hungary, a lifetime ago, I got drunk in a freezing cold house and then yelled at Balint that he was being a bad coteacher. I yelled at him for translating "igen" for me, because what kind of an idiot did he think he was?, even though he was actually just being kind. I fell down a flight of stairs and pulled him with me while walking him down to his scooter. I then proceeded to go back upstairs and steal all the champagne in the house. I woke up the next morning, mortified and hurting, but discovered that, much to my continued amazement and delight, this wasted mistake, this vulnerability, had made us friends. I think I will always think of Balint on Thanksgiving.)

So. Dark place. Crying at work whenever someone messages me, and being pretty much near tears the rest of the time. I need to snap out of this, so I'm going to attempt to make a list of things that I am thankful for. They're not in order of importance, but just in the order they've been sitting on my mind. I have tried to exclude superficial things, though, as thankful as I am for my new electric blanket...

  • At this time last year, I was just starting to accept that I was really quite sick. I'm so, so thankful that it all turned out to be nothing more than a very-treatable brain-stem infection, and not the tumor I was absolutely certain it was. It's crazy to think that just one year ago, I was pretty much certain that I was dying, and here I am fit as a fiddle.
  • I am thankful that I have a beloved best friend who knows me, deep down inside, and actually loves me more for the ugly parts. I am thankful that we have traveled the world together, and that I know what real love (real sharing, abiding love) is as a result of having known her. I'm even thankful for how very much I miss her.
  • I am thankful that I have a good job that I care about which also allows me time and money to do other things that I care about. I'm really thankful to not have to be constantly worried about my job any more. I'm thankful that I can support myself and pay for all my needs and reasonable wants.
  • I am thankful for the new friends I've made here in Korea, because this would all really be pretty much impossible without them. I am thankful for my coteachers and their unflagging patience.
  • I am thankful that I have lived in beautiful, complex countries that have touched my heart and molded me into myself. I am thankful that I have left little pieces of my heart in other places, because they keep me connected to the rest of the world and remind me just how small and vulnerable I actually am. I am thankful for the three Laurens that exist in three distinct languages.
  • I am thankful that I have been able to travel to and around thirty-seven marvelous countries. I am thankful to have met their people, seen their sights, tasted their food, and spoken their languages. I am thankful that this won't be coming to an end in the foreseeable future.
  • I am thankful for my family: how very close my dad and I have gotten over the past few years, my mom's making a way for herself, my sister and I talking again, and my grandparents still being around to worry about me.
  • I am thankful for my friends who are far from me, but still close in my mind and heart. I wish I could see you all every day.
  • I am thankful for all the tv shows, movies, and books that give me something to look forward to, think about, pick apart, and obsess over.
  • I am thankful to Magdalena for taking care of my sweet Dexter in his old age, because knowing that he is loved and cared for is the only reason I was able to leave him.
  • I am thankful for hope, butterflies and dumb leaps of faith. I am thankful for a heart that is not so scared that it won't jump.
  • I am thankful for my parents' dogs and for the cats I've lived with over the years and all the happiness and silliness they have brought into my life. I'm thankful for my rats and all the sweet tummy kisses and playfulness.
  • I am thankful that I am mostly strong and independent. I am also thankful that I can be needy and that I cry at the drop of a hat. I am particularly thankful that I don't cry easiest when I am sad, but when I am touched by the kindness of another. I am thankful that this is getting worse and worse as I age and turn into a bigger sap.
  • I'm thankful for cooking, running, writing, and all the other things that bring a moment of silence into my loud-mouthed brain.
  • I'm thankful for my older friends and the wisdom and patience they have shown me while they helped me to become a better person. I can only hope to be as amazing as you.
  • I'm thankful that tomorrow will be another day for me to eat up, and that so many people will be helping me do so.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Grumble

"Lauren. We need you to do this thing. But we also need to work on your computer. So... go sit there for awhile."

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Me, in a physical sense

I like my hair. I know that it does well for me. It's curly without being too crazy, and it's an interesting color: dancing along the border of red and blonde and brown, but the color of gold in the sun. I like that's it's easy, in that as long as I make the effort to keep it soft I don't have to much worry about it, and can just wash it and let it do what it wants to. This saves me a lot of time in my life, I know.

I like my eyes. I've developed an off-color spot in one of them over the past year or so that I'm not crazy about. But I like their color, and their size. I like their expressiveness (except when I'm trying to hide my feelings!) and that I still only need glasses occasionally, when I am very tired. I recently received a compliment on my smile lines, which was a bit unsettling as it was the first time someone other than my mother or a paid beauty professional has talked about them. I don't mind, though. I'm twenty-seven years old, and if I have to start wrinkling up, I'm glad that it's caused by my tendency to smile and laugh too much, rather than the opposite.

(I remember that after my year with the Americorps, I had a defined line straight down the middle of my forehead, and that at only twenty-one! I moved away, and my life got happier, and it went away. It seems to be staying away. I'm very thankful for the life changes that allowed that to happen.)

I like the bump on the end of my nose, because it is the only piece of my face that is my dad's.

I like my broad shoulders and my long neck. I like my big, strong hands which are capable of carrying many things at once or rocking an enormous ring. I like the lightning-bolt scar on my back, because I think it's cool, and because it's on my back rather than my forearm or face. I like my freckles, particularly the little ones that spring up after a day in the sun and then fade back into hiding.

I don't like my feet, which are long and wide and shapeless, and which require special care to not crack and hurt me. I do appreciate their propelling me about the world, however. I do not like my arms, which are too long for most shirts and too big, too. I do not like the mole on my right side that catches on shirts and hurts me.

And here I realize that I'm pretty darn lucky. Because I can't think of another part of me that I really dislike. My thighs spring to mind, because the tops are soft, but the bottoms are strong and hard... and my thighs let me run and bike. I wish the skin on my face was a bit less shiny, but I'm glad that it isn't too dry. Nobody likes their feet. Feet are gross. My arms are ok, and I guess reaching things is handy. It makes sense to dislike a mole that gets caught on stuff, because it's annoying.

The only part of my body that I'm actually truly self-conscious about is my eyebrows. I can deal with that.

Monday, November 25, 2013

*Click*

You know when something has been confusing, and you've been pondering it in a somewhat obsessive way? Like, really working on it with your mind? And then, all of a sudden, you get a new idea, so you do some research and suddenly *click!* it all makes sense in your mind?

Well, that just happened for me. I didn't even have to run too far for the realization. Which is good, because it is damn cold outside.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Waygookin Chopstick Challenge

A fun staff-dinner game: take a whole chicken, including bones and skin, stuffed with super-dense rice. Cover it in opaque herbal broth that boils for several minutes after being served. Use a pair of chopsticks and a dull spoon to remove the skin and bones, place them on a nearby plate, and crack open the chicken to get at the rice. No fingers!

At least my coteachers thought my explanation of, "This is a foreigner chopstick nightmare!" was hysterical.

Playing Hookie

Should that be an -ie, or a -y? Shows what a square I am, I guess.

Jihei and I went for a training that ended quite early. Rather than head back to work, we got coffee and chatted. Then we discovered that taxis don't come to the area we were in. So now we're on the village bus, heading slowly back into town where we can actually catch a cab back to our hood. We will be late to staff dinner. Oops!

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

And I'm the crazy person

If you've spent time abroad or even just with people from another culture, you've experienced this moment.

Something abso-freaking-lutely insane is said. You say, "I'm sorry, what?!" They say it again. You say, "I'm sorry, why?!" It goes on like this. You get upset. They get frustrated. The language barrier grows.

You remain baffled, and the worst thing is that everyone is clearly looking at you like you've lost your mind. Because they are used to this particular piece of insanity, but you are not, and they simply do not understand it, just as you simply do not understand what the hell is going on.

This is culture shock.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Three Months

I left the States three months ago. It feels like I've been in Korea forever and ever, though. Since I got here, I've visited six other cities. I've attended two conferences. I traveled to Japan. I've lost six kilos. I've gotten quite drunk twice. I've made new friends. I've made kimchi. I've slept in hostels, beds, on the beach, and on the floor. I kissed three people, one of whom I plan to keep kissing. I've learnt how to order my food and make a modicum of small talk with the taxi driver. I've settled into my job and I feel like I'm making a difference in these kids' educations. I've built my own comfortable little world all over again.

Today it started to snow. When my sixth graders noticed, joy and delight spread across their faces. They ran to the windows and flung them open, catching the tiny flakes on their hands and giggling like the children they still actually are. I didn't have it in me to call them back to their seats. It made my heart ache.

I found out that one of my two coteachers is leaving and I'll be teaching with someone else. On Friday. My other coteacher is very pregnant and will be leaving soon to have her baby. My whole life is going to change.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Lazy

Being sick and tired has ruined my motivation to blog. I'll be back next week... I'm off to a temple stay tomorrow morning!

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

I found that word!

I was right. It is a German word.

Vorfreude (n): the joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures

Expo Park

On my side of the river, there is the old Expo Park. The city built it in 1994 for an exposition. It's freaky and futuristic, but sadly rather run-down and unused. Occasionally there are science or craft fairs for students, and the Daejeombie race was held there, but it's mostly empty. Some exhibits are still open, but they're in Korean, so not much use for me. It's a fun place to walk around, though!





Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Sick in Korea

I had to go running out of my second-period class today to be sick. So I got to spend the rest of the day at work, but in the nurse's office, curled up between two heating blankets and asleep. Except when I was woken up at lunch to go sit at the lunch table and eat some soup.

My coteachers took me to the doctor after work was over. I was prescribed a variety of pills, which you can see above in their adorable little packets (morning, noon, and night). I have a bad cold. Possibly the flu. My coteachers also bought me two servings of porridge (juk) which you can also see above. It has shredded chicken and is the Korean equivalent of chicken noodle soup. I was so touched that I cried in the pharmacy. Then they all called to check up on me. More tears.

I'm never more aware of the fact that I am an extrovert (just a judgy one) than when I am sick. I just want someone to come lay with me, pet my hair, and talk to me! My energy is so low and I become a giant ball of need. But movies help. Porridge, too.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Camp Plans

I worked on camp plans so long and so hard that today I had to wear my glasses to work. I forgot the word "archer" for several long minutes. I coughed all day.

It was amazing. I love to create.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

A Step Back

Take a deep breath. Ask.
Discuss. Take a step back.
Act accordingly. Feel your heart take a surge forward.
Watch it go.
Shrug. What can you do about it?

(I guess you can write strange, obscure, free-form quasi-poetry about it on your blog.)

Also, I need to figure out where in the world to go for winter holiday.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Teaching as a Drug

You stand at the front of the classroom and the kids come rushing in. Smile. Make the appropriate hand motions so that they sit down and get settled. They're ready for lesson. And you're so ready to teach them.

When you prepare a good lesson, when you're in sync with your coteacher, when the stars align and the angels smile down on you... man, there is nothing better than teaching. And when everything goes wrong, and the kids are rebelling and your coteacher has no idea what's happening... it's still pretty damn amazing.

I feel so alive in the classroom. All of my senses are on alert. I can teach a grammar point while writing on the board and narrowing my eyes at a student about to misbehave without breaking stride. I can understand questions asked in a language that I don't even speak. I can express whole ideas with a quirk of my face or the softest touch of my hand. Feeling connected to twenty-six growing minds is a really humanizing experience. That's why I spend so much time reading about it, finding new techniques to try, and talking about it in real life and online. It really is my number-one hobby and interest.

The best thing about teaching is that, when I'm doing it, everything else goes away. No stress. No worries. Everything that is bothering me about the rest of the world ceases to exist. Everything that is making me happy about the rest of the world disappears, too. I feel like I exist purely for this service. I imagine this is what the religious feel like, except I feel this way about verbs and phrases, and that moment when realization washes over a child's face.

When they cancel my lessons, as they did today, I feel the pang of withdrawal. Don't they know I need this?

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Kyoto's Sanjusangendo Temple

When I went to Kyoto last month, I didn't really know what to expect. I was woefully unprepared, and I wound up not even making it to the Royal Palace, but I really don't care. Because, after a quick flip through the convenient little guide book given me by my hostel in Osaka, I decided to head to the Sanjusangendo Temple, with its one thousand golden Buddhas. There was a long, dark hall. You took off your shoes and went in, then turned the corner and felt the wind pull out of your lungs.


Literally as far as you could see, there were life-size golden Buddhas, stacked up in rows of one hundred, ten deep. Each was slightly different, as they were made individually. In front of the Buddhas were various other gods, also life-sized. They also had glass eyes in their faces, so they were rather creepy. Of course, there was an incredibly strict photo ban. Oddly enough, there are limited photos online as well. I will just have to remember them.


In the center was one large golden Buddha, surrounded by incense and prayer bells. It was rather staggering to reach the center Buddha after what felt like a lifetime of Buddhas, and realize that you had just as many Buddhas left to see. It was all rather overwhelming, and at one point I actually took a break to lean against the wall and close my eyes. It's crazy to think about the deep faith of the past.

So after I eventually wandered out blinking into the light, I checked out the gardens and such, which were also very lovely.

 washing station
Sooo... why the cups, then?
 pond
 selfie!
 prayer bell

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Twenty-four Hours in Daegu (Plus a Train Ride)

Saturday afternoon I headed to Daegu, a town about two hours away on the slow train. I arrived and found my friend Jackie, who had graciously agreed to host me. We hung out for a bit, chatting about various things, until her friend Stefanie also joined us. Then the conversation took a fun turn towards post-feminism and pornography. (Sorry, Grandma!) So we had a really fun and animated conversation, on a topic that I haven't really been able to revisit lately. It's amazing how much just talking about something important can wake you up, and how much connecting with strong, positive women can make you feel powerful and safe.

So then we headed downtown, where there were various Halloween festivities going on. It was super fun. I sang, I danced, I ate too much junk food. I ran into nice people I'd met at orientation and friends that don't even live in Daegu. We clung to each other, hands locked onto each others elbows, grinning stupidly into each others' faces. At about four in the morning, we decided to get "bag drinks" (cocktails mixed together to take away in a heavy-duty ziplock) and they gave us sparklers. So we ran through the streets, trailing pixie dust behind us, and I was happy.


Sunday morning I was, to put it mildly, much less happy. The perils of trying to hang with the twenty-two year olds! But Jackie went out and brought back sweet bread and coffee, and I managed to get myself up and dressed for the opera. The bus ride was a bit brutal, for sure. At one point we were stopped at a light and someone was literally jackhammering on the sidewalk. Jackie groaned, "I feel like they're doing it to me on purpose."

So we got lunch, and met up with others, and headed to the opera house. Tannhauser was good, even if the male lead left something to be desired in the acting department. Observations: in the party scene, all the Korean extras came in with their cell phones and started taking selfies. Non-iron applause feels disorganized, insincere, and just generally wrong. What does the pink paper mean?! Then it was time for dinner and catching the train home.

The train ride home started innocently enough. I was sitting, happily reading articles on motivation theory, when I realized that my seat partner had changed. In place of the old lady that had gotten off at the last stop, there was now an old man. Staring at me and rubbing himself, breathing on my neck. I did what I always do, and blatantly took a picture of him with my phone. He was undeterred, so I got up and changed cars. He followed me, and again when I changed cars a second time. I was contemplating just locking myself in the bathroom when I found the dining car, where I could successfully hide myself in a group of families with children, and he wandered off. This all happened on the totally crowded, well-lit train!

And then I got really livid. Because, seriously, how is this an okay thing?! How is it possible for the actions of one individual to so quickly and totally steal away all the feelings of happiness and connectedness that I was feeling, and leave me scared and alone? Why do we still live in a world where women have to be constantly aware? Because that's the thing that men don't understand. It's not that women live our lives afraid or worried or scared. It's just that we have to live them aware. Aware of our surroundings, aware of the looks that rest on us, aware of the length of our skirts and the grabability of our hair. And it's bullshit.

I caught a taxi home, arms and legs shaking with impotent rage, and Tiff made sure I was ok. Sure, I said. It's happened before, I said. At least he didn't touch me, I said. How sad is it that that is the standard? He violated my privacy, personal space, and sense of security. He violated my personhood, turning me into an object to be used for his needs. But at least he didn't touch me. How sad is it that so many women just nod, because they've lived this countless times, too?

Monday, November 4, 2013

Surprise

Things keep happening unexpectedly in this country.

I ended my work day on Friday just exhausted. It had been a very fun week, with all the Halloween festivities, but it sort of took it all out of me. So I did some yoga and had a nap, pretty typical night, really. Except then I left my house and things took a turn for the much less typical. It was all somewhat... unsettling? But that's not the right word. I feel off balance and somewhat uncertain, but not in a bad way.

What is it when you feel simultaneously nervous and comfortable? Is there a word for that? I'm sure there is in German, they win at the very specific emotional descriptors. In the meantime, I'll just call it Korea and spending too much time inside my own head.

Friday, November 1, 2013

Stuff I have had to make my students say

This is not a post dedicated to the ridiculous things my students say of their own free will. This is a post dedicated to the phrases I have been forced to teach my students, to make them repeat them ad nauseum until they were etched into their little brains, thanks to the Korean national curriculum.

  • The lemon said, "I'm bigger than an orange."
  • There is a penguin standing at the magic bus stop.
  • May I have a fork? (uttered of course by the hapless waygookin child who can't use chopsticks)
  • Do you remember what the kiwi bird said?
  • You look like a Scotsman.
  • How **** it is!
  • My face pouch has many songs.
  • Yes. I'm your Daddy-Long-Legs.
  • Sorry, but you may not have your dress.
  • I rode Rony, a flying cat.
  • Look at the blue cap! Oh, it's a blue cap. This is a blue cap for you. (WHAT IS IT?!)

The upcoming unit is entitled "King Sejong Invented Hangeul." It includes the following exchange:
  • Jiho: He invented Hangeul, the Korean alphabet. Now everyone can read and write.
  • Amy: He did a really good job!
  • Jiho: Yes. He did many things for us. He made a water clock, too.
  • Amy: He's amazing.

Jeezy Creezy.

Oh, Happy Day

I have found a pub that I like. It has good food, cheap beer, and friendly staff. The music is pleasant and does not require you to shout to your table mates. Best of all, it's only a 5000 won taxi ride home.

I'm totally infatuated. I can't wait to return. This could be the start of a beautiful relationship.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Too Many Video Games

I taught my fifth grade students about various monsters today. At one point, I asked, "How do you kill a zombie?" One tiny boy, who I had literally never even heard speak before put up his hand. Shocked, I called on him. In a perfectly calm voice he responded, "Head shot."

Playing It Cool

It seems like everyone I know is going on dates, so the conversations I've been having of late have widely been of the "What the hell does this mean?" and "Is it too soon to reply?" and "God, how damn hard is it to orchestrate a simple kiss in this country where old ladies hiss at you for PDA?" I feel like I'm back in high school again, with all the positives and negatives that come along with that. Basically, it boils down to what I've come to refer to as "fear of crazy."

I hate that you're not allowed to be excited about people. You meet someone cool, but society dictates that you have to pretend to be almost bored about them, otherwise you seem like a stalker. What bull. For all you know, the other person is equally excited and equally frustrated by this nonsense game.

Seriously, when did people become such commitment-phobes that "Hey, wanna meet up again?" now apparently means "Hey, wanna get married and have dozens of babies together?" Just get together and make out! Why does it have to be so hard?

Other than the old ladies, of course. They are pretty scary.

(I put 10:1 odds on my dad commenting "NO MAKING OUT!")

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Missing

I miss Lyla.

I miss her the way people seem to miss their significant other when they are separated for a long period of time. I feel like I've lost a tangible part of myself. An arm. At least a thumb. I feel the little phantom pangs where that part of me used to be. I try not to itch them because then sometimes I cry, random and ugly, on a street corner or in my office. The tears well up hot hot behind my eyes without warning. Damn it.

It can't be healthy to be this attached to one's best friend. 

I seriously enjoy television less without her. I get bitter over the fact that I have to choose one thing off the menu, because my person who invariably is torn over the same two items as I am is missing. Going out is not as much fun, and hangovers hurt worse when I can't whine to her and hide from the sun together. I bake less, because I have to eat it all myself. Nobody gives me high-fives for using amazing vocabulary, fangirls out with me, or listens to my hyper-analysis, so I find myself less esoteric.

Worst of all, I don't have anyone to call me on my bullshit. It's not often that you find someone who well and truly makes you a better person. I'm afraid of worsening.

Monday, October 28, 2013

Sea Squirt

I have been hearing of a creature called a "sea squirt" that was showing up in my waygook friends' lunches. This creature was reviled as disgusting, awful, and even inedible. I scoffed. How could a sea creature be THAT bad? Particularly in a soup, as it was apparently usually served?

Today, I was happily eating my squid soup (while letting my thoughts drift to adorable smiles brought about by the mention of Miguel de Unamuno... not fair) when my mouth was suddenly drenched in a sour, acidic, soapy taste. It was so sudden and repulsive that my entire upper half convulsed, if only slightly. I was sitting at table with my principal, after all. My teeth were gripping a small piece of something rubbery and hard. As surreptitiously as I could, I took that thing out of my mouth. I immediately filled my mouth with kimchi and a pepper. Anything to get rid of that taste.


This is what was waiting on my tray. Except they were even more horrible looking: somewhat gray and more knotted.

I had fallen victim to the sea squirt.

Friday, October 25, 2013

Daejeon is Pretty


I spent high school in New Mexico, gaping at sunsets that turned the whole world shades of pink and purple and night skies that featured the dull glow of the milky way tracing its way across the sky behind millions of tiny tiny stars.

I studied in Salamanca, a town dripping with history, paved with ancient cobbles. The whole city is built of sandstone, glowing a warm gold under the sun and the sodium lights that illuminate the city at night. I'd cross the old town wall, walk down to the river, and turn around to gape at the magnificent city rising above me, reflected perfectly in the still waters of the River Tormes, in the place where fiction began.

I moved to Budapest and burst into tears the first time I saw the Parlament. I wandered cemeteries full of tombstones larger than most homes and more ornate than many churches. I felt the wind that had traveled down the Duna to brush my cheeks as I traipsed happily across suspension bridges to sit in dark, sexy gardens and drink bitter herb liqueurs. I traced the patterns in tile roofs with my eyes and never grew tired of the curved lines and bright colors.

Then I moved to Daejeon, a city of neon lights and new, square, beige buildings. I liked it straight off, but I was not sure if it was beautiful. Interesting, dynamic, exciting? Of course. But beautiful? I had my doubts.

I found the river. I found the parks. I found the mountains. I discovered that small children and shop assistants smile at me wherever I go. I bought a bicycle and went for runs at dusk. The cold weather came, and with it new colors and scents.

Daejeon's beauty is growing on me. I'd even go so far as to call it pretty.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Cute Moose + ESL = WIN

I don't know if anyone reading this teaches, particularly younger kids. But if you do, check out Maple Leaf Learning's Youtube channel. It features many videos featuring popular ELL-friendly topics, often including several on a particular grammar point or idea. There are many for all the popular holidays as well. They are clearly articulated and include catchy songs. Best of all, they feature candy-colored backgrounds and adorable cartoons and puppets.

The star is a moose puppet called Marty who has all sorts of mishaps. I love him.

East vs. West

Adjusting to a new job is hard. Adjusting to a new country is hard. Adjusting to an entirely different cultural viewpoint and mindset is really, really, really hard.

You can google the differences between Eastern and Western frames of reference and get a general understanding of what I'm talking about. (This is a pretty good link. Or if you want a slightly longer read, click here.) Basically, it's entirely different. And sometimes it's incredibly frustrating.

For example, when students are being scolded here, they look down to show respect. If they're really sorry, they will smile to try to appease the scolder. And while my mind understands that, the rest of me is shouting, "Look me in the eye, damn it! Stop smiling, I'm mad at you!" because it just feels so disrespectful to me. So I have to take a deep breath and walk away, because otherwise I'll be unreasonable.

Expressiveness in voice and facial expression can be seen as either demonstrative of low intelligence or aggressive. Directness is seen as an insult. So that's fun. I think I scare my coteachers sometimes. And again, the brain understands it, and I try really hard to speak obliquely and in the softest voice I own. But then I feel as if I've robbed myself of my own voice, and that makes me cranky. And I do the wrong thing all the time, because I don't understand that their facial expression when telling me to do something actually means I should do the exact opposite, or whatever.

It just seems to me that society here is breeding a group of incredibly meek individuals, who then hit the magic age of 55 or so and become incredibly bossy, because they are now the "high" ones or whatever. Obviously, it's working for these economic powerhouses. Obviously, they're doing something right. It's just sort of hard to wrap one's mind around here on the ground.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Reaping

Last week, my school had a rice festival. The children have been growing rice in pots, and the time finally came to harvest it. Sure enough, they went through each step in the harvesting process, though I doubt that any of the rice was actually consumed in the end for sanitary reasons. There were also snacks and music going on, so it was a fun way to spend the morning for sure.

Step one: cut rice. Each child receives a handful.
Step two: comb rice through metal rakes to remove much of the rice from the stalk.
Step three: the threshing machine removes any stubborn rice still clinging to the stalk. It is powered with a step-pedal and has metal hooks on it. The rice bunches are gently hit onto it while it spins.
rice in the husk
Step four: the rice is pounded in this large mortar-and-pestle setup to remove the husks from the grain.
Step five: the rice is sifted carefully so that the husks fly away.
Step six: the stalks are twisted and braided into rope for various purposes (in this case, a souvenir for the kiddos).

Step seven (not pictured): the rice is taken to the mill and ground into flour. Obviously, this step didn't actually happen at the school.
Step eight: the rice flour is mixed with water and pounded with heavy mallets for ages and ages to break it down and make it sticky.

Monday, October 21, 2013

So excited

I just get the feeling that Halloween in Korea is going to be pretty intense. And I'm super psyched about it!

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Sunday Post!

I didn't blog on Friday, as I was exhausted. So I figure I owe everyone an extra post.

After work on Friday, I ran some errands. I went to the HomePlus, where I hit up Uniqlo and bought two nice button-down shirts, and the super market, where I bought a blankie and coffee-making accouterments. Then I came home, relaxed, watched TV, and went to bed early. Saturday I went to the Daejeombie Charity 5K, featuring zombies. It was awesome, if a bit more low-key than I expected. I then grabbed blowfish soup with Jason, Bola, and Amanda E before checking out a fancy cupcake place. Sunday was a day of rest. I cooked some pretty awesome paprikas csirke, went on a long bike ride, and met a new language exchange partner.

It was a chill weekend, but a good one. It was nice to actually be in Daejeon, see friends, and relax for the first time in a month!