Jeonju Hanok Village

Way back in August, during orientation, we had a day-long excursion. In the morning we learned how to do lion dancing, which I've already blogged about, and made a pencil case out of traditional craft paper. Then we had bimbimbap for lunch and visited the traditional Hanok village. It is a preserved village of old-fashioned Korean buildings, as well as a palace and a temple.

 This fountain was covered in painted stones, each with a wish or a greeting on them.

 blooming trees in the Buddhist temple school

 The entrance to the Buddhist temple with a foggy mountain behind it.

 froggy

 old water wheel with a windmill

pretty colors on the palace wall

Friday's Post

Simple but heartfelt. Taking my taxi home tonight along the river, breathing in the air and drinking in the sights, I realized that I am content here. After only a month, I feel comfortable and at home.

I think that's pretty cool.

Acceptance

One of the things I most love about Korea (and about any small nation, really) is the delight the people show when you show any interest in their culture or language. Their whole face lights up. They grab your hand. They say thank you an awkward number of times or for remarkably insignificant things.

I brought in the cakes. The principal said she loved me. Her English is limited, but I knew what she meant. The viceprincipal held my hand. My colleagues gasped and ooohed. The shy gym teacher finally spoke to me in English.

The head teacher asked me if we have this first paycheck tradition in the States. When I said no, she said I was like a Korean. From a Korean, that's pretty high praise.

It's not the gift that won them over (though everyone likes cake). It's that I followed this tradition. I really did feel more integrated today.

First Paycheck

Here in Korea, when you get your first paycheck, the tradition states that you have to buy gifts for your coteachers, principal, and vice-principal. I went today and ordered cakes. I was careful to get a larger one for the principal, and I got a pre-sliced multi-flavor set up for my office.

I'm terrified that I'm going to mess this up somehow. That's right, I'm afraid that I will somehow offend people by giving them cake. Etiquette is a bit crazy in this country!

Cheeseburger!

And now to write the most stereotypical Daejeonite expat blog.

House Grill. Both locations. Oh my God. So good! Great burgers, good fries, friendly service. Go there and eat until you are fat and happy. Om nom nom. 남남남!!!!! ^^

Hiking Daejeon, part one

So there isn't actually a part two coming up immediately. It's just that hiking is a really big activity here, so I am sure there will be more hikes to come! This was my first hike, already a few weeks ago now, with Song and Arielle. We thought it was going to be a short, light hike followed by swimming in a reservoir. Except that there didn't wind up being any place to swim, and we wound up going on a 12 km, intensely hilly, four hour hike. It was awesome. We were also adopted by an old Korean man who stayed with us for the second half of the hike and made sure we didn't get lost in the woods.

 the most water we saw

 a Korean ajumma all decked out against the sun

Koreans are super into hiking. They all have little matching hiking outfits, and camelbacks, and walking sticks. We sort of stuck out in our workout clothes and ponytails!

 the view from the top

sweaty but feeling accomplished at the top

Smokey

My sweet boy Smokey passed away. He was buried in Varosliget. Dexter is doing fine, even though I'm sure he misses his brother. It's so funny. They're so small, and to so many people such insignificant little animals. But they attach themselves to your heart, and you can't help but to love them. Smokey had such a stubborn, curious personality. He was never a cuddler, but he did like to run up and grab my face or hands between his little paws and groom me. He was so brave: escaping, fighting cats, getting trapped in drawers. I missed him even before I left Budapest.

Rest in peace, my beautiful boy.

 youth

 bright eyes

 chasing strings

 so curious

 bath time

doing tricks for peanut butter

Tiny Mewling Cub

I am, once again, a helpless infant who needs every single little thing done for her.

When I first moved abroad, to Spain, I spoke the language and could generally fend for myself. Plus, I was in the happy little bubble of study abroad. At most, I needed to ask where things were.

The second time, moving to Hungary, was much more difficult. I didn't speak the language. I wasn't in a bubble. I figured it out, but it was all so difficult. I'm experiencing this again here in Korea. I need help for opening accounts, getting phones, using the bank, paying bills, everything. I'm trying hard to remember that I've done this before and that it will get easier. Certainly, I'm doing better than many other Korean newbies are: I can ride the bus, take taxis, and buy food successfully. There is that.

Yesterday I went to try to get a cell phone. We were there for three hours, and I left without a cell phone! I almost cried. I'll head back there in a few minutes to try again with my new and improved banking setup. It better work, or I might actually lose it!

Chili paste and shame

Here in Korea, it is about to be Chuseok, which the Koreans translate as Thanksgiving but to my understanding is a blend of Thanksgiving and All Soul's Day. Anyway, one of the traditional foods at this time of year is Songpyeon. These are small rice cakes, traditionally filled with a paste of either sesame seeds or red beans mixed with honey.

Last week, the home-ec teacher brought some songpyeon into the staff room for us. She was extra excited for me to try them, as a foreigner. The sixth graders had made them, and she had taken one from each student to share with the teachers.

I popped one into my mouth. Instead of delightful honey-tinged sweetness, though, I tasted fire. I spat out as much as I could. The rice cake is sticky, though, and a lot stuck to my teeth. Tears ran down my face. I chugged water.

Some of the sixth grade boys had filled their songpyeon with chili paste. The sort of chili paste of which you put one spoonful into a pot of soup. The home-ec teacher was furious.

On Friday, there was punishment. Laps were run. Bows were made. Begging definitely happened. Somehow, I doubt those boys will be making chili-paste desserts again. Poor things. I almost felt bad for them.

Frustration

My school is at the end of a dead-end street, so there is only one way to get there. Which means that every morning on my way to work, I am forced to walk at a snail's pace behind small children wandering aimlessly down the road. It's been even worse this week, as they are all carrying umbrellas that are much too large for them, so they can't even see anything.

It takes me 6 minutes to walk HOME from work. It takes me 13 minutes to walk TO work. Argh.

Volleyball and Awkwardness

My first day at my new school, a Wednesday, there was a volleyball game. I was dressed to impress, without a change or sneakers, so I didn't partake.

The second Wednesday I came prepared, but there was no volleyball.

Yesterday I brought my stuff. There was no volleyball.

Today, in a surprise turn of events, there was volleyball. Of course, today, I had no stuff with me. So I sort of awkwardly batted the ball around during the warm up, then sat down for the actual game. Alone. Awkwardly.

Eventually one of the teachers nearby made eye-contact with me. I smiled, hugely. She looked terrified. I said hello. She forced out a few sentences. One of them was in French. So I ran with it, and spoke horrible French with her for twenty minutes. Now, I know you're thinking, "But Lauren! You don't speak French!" You're right. I don't. But I speak more French than Korean and understand a heck of a lot more. So I did it. It was less awkward than sitting alone and pathetic while the Koreans run about in their full volleyball gear to spontaneous (and perfectly simultaneous) cries of "fightING!!"

Colors

Korea is a very colorful place. I don't mean that euphemistically, either. I mean there are colors everywhere. Traditional buildings are ornately painted in many bright colors. Modern buildings are covered in blinking, scrolling, flashing neon. Bags and shoes are adorned in candy colors. Don't even get me started on the K-pop, either. I sort of love it. There is always something to look at.

Bowing

Situations in which I have now, to my mind at least, successfully executed a bow:

• while walking and talking to other people than the one being bowed at
• while speaking Korean
• while going up and down the stairs
• while eating, including soup
• while riding a bike
• while getting off a bus
• while dancing
• while teaching

Situations in which I have now UNsuccessfully executed a bow:

• while getting distracted as a result, and walking into a phone pole

School Signage

At my school, there is signage everywhere. There are posters for all sorts of things. My favorite, by far, is the stair signage. I guess Koreans deliberately switched their walking direction a few years back, so most stairs have arrows still showing that you should go up on the right and down on the left. At my school, they come with additional signs all focused on reading and respecting your parents. Korea!

"Have a dream in your heart, have a book in your hand."
and
"I'll repay my parents for their love."

"Reading is mental food."
and
"Time is the only comforter for the loss of parents."

Handsome Adventurers

Oh, I miss my ratty boys so much! Still, I am happy knowing they are with someone who is taking care of them and letting them have adventures in their advanced age.

Sweet boys.

Work Shoes

I bought work shoes.

Now, in Hungary I kept work shoes as well, since I mainly biked to work in my sneakers. Korean work shoes, however, are something else. Everyone wears large plastic sneakers inside of the school. Or maybe croc-esque things. Some of the ladies have more stylish ones, but I have enormous feet by Korean standards, so I was stuck getting totally fug man shoes.

The thing that kills me is that Koreans put a huge importance on appearance. You have to dress nicely for work. No shoulders can be shown. You have to spend tons of money on anti-aging creams, because if you appear to be older than thirty your career is pretty much over. They even go so far that plastic surgery is a huge thing here.

So you get up, rub spendy creams into your face, put on lovely clothing, and head to work... where you slip into some gym/shower shoes.

With socks. Oh yeah.

Road Runner

I like to run. I'm not entirely sure if running likes me back, because I'm not very good at it. I'm not super fast, I get really red in the face, and I look rather dorky while I run. What I can do is run for a long time. I just trot along, and it makes me feel happy. Music blares into my ears, I breathe in the air around me, and I start to feel connected.

I particularly like to run outside. I think running indoors, or on a track, is a bit boring and lame. I like to run outside, on the sidewalk, where there are actually things to see and wonder at.

So this week I headed out for a run. I went the back way, around several research facilities in my area. The sidewalk was lovely: padded and sort of resembling a track. The cool breeze blew and the sun shone. And yet I came back unhappy.

Because I was GAWKED at. An old lady yelled at me. People pointed and laughed.

Now, I know I'm a foreigner and obviously so. I know that I have... curves that Koreans don't have, and that they move somewhat when I move. Still, though, this was stressful for me. I guess I will have to wait until it cools down quite a bit and I can run in a jacket again, or something. Or run at six am. Gross.

Work Dinner

Tonight was my first informal work dinner (last week's retirement gala doesn't count). It was actually quite chill. We went to a place in my neighborhood, just my office and the PE teachers, and ate bulgogi. It was to say goodbye again to Mr. Cho, the retiree, and to welcome myself and Ha-Lin into the office. I was bullied into taking only two mini-shots of soju. (I think I can fairly say that I am not a huge lover of the stuff.) I gave a toast, in English, which only about half of the people there understood. A few people, in particular my coteacher, Ji-he, and the nutritionist, Brooke, chatted with me a bit, but mainly I just sort of chilled out and ate. Which is, you know, fine with me.

A note on Brooke: she is the school nutritionist. Each school in Korea plans its own local menu. She does the sourcing and meal planning for my school. Lunch has been pretty good so far, so I think she must be good at her job. Also, she spent some time in New Zealand with her kids. That's why she's adopted an English name. Most of the teachers and students at my school do not have an English name. It seems to have fallen out of favor here.

And now, on to the bulgogi.

The bulgogi is brought out raw, with sweet potato noodles and veggies and such.The pan has a sort of lump in the middle, so the meat can brown out of the broth.

You have to sort of stir it around and separate it with the provided tongs as it cooks.

The side dishes: (bottom) peppers and onions with soybean paste, kim, spicy tofu and (top) kimchi, sesame-dressed greens, and dried buk (acorn jelly) (Buk is delicious in its dried, firmer state, but quite gross in its wiggly jelly state.)

First Two Days of Lessons

I started teaching on Thursday, which means that I've already seen some of my classes twice with how my schedule works out.

The first lesson, I showed the kids a powerpoint about me. I tried to make it fun with silly pictures and whatnot. Then, they had to play bingo. I printed off bingo cards with a bunch of key words from my presentation. They had to ask questions to get me to say those key words. For example, one of the words was "twenty-seven" so they could ask "How old are you?" The winners got temporary tattoos. It was fun, the kids got to talk a bit, and get to know me.

The second lesson, I did an extended nametag activity with the kiddos. They had to write their name with Latin letters in the middle of a sheet of paper. Then they answered a question in each corner. I asked what they had for dinner, where they went on summer vacation, what they are afraid of, and where they want to visit. (But you could adjust however you want.) Once that was done, they asked the questions of their deskmate. Then the fun part kicked in, as they traded cards with their pairs and repeated the process with a new partner, this time masquerading as whoever was on their card. With the sixth graders we managed to trade a few times, and it was pretty silly and fun. Plus, they were talking, asking questions and answering them differently, the whole lesson. Except when they were writing. I liked it.