Seven Good Things, Week Whatever/Back At It

Saturday: On Saturday I helped Tiff move to her new town. This was a hard day for me, because I realized that I would be totally on my own in Jeonmin-dong from then on. The bad thing about my job is that there isn't really anyone I am able to interact with on a level beyond "Today do lesson 3, yes? OK?" on most days. That means that some weeks I'll wind up going three or four days without actually speaking, out loud, to anyone in a complete sentence. That can get really hard. It certainly makes me miss having a flatmate and colleagues with whom I could chat or joke around. That being said, I was happy to see Tiffany in a nice place, in a beautiful apartment, and glad to be able to help someone I care about.

Sunday: I spent Sunday mainly with the boy. We had lunch, then finally saw "Frozen," which was actually super cute. Then we had Mexican food and a long walk. It was a beautiful day.

Monday: I can't remember anything about Monday, really. I managed to get a lot of administrative-type tasks done, though, so that was a plus.

Tuesday: I went to the chiropractor, which always refreshes me, and then I had chicken and beer with the girls. We got a bit punchy and laughed way too much.

Wednesday: I finally managed to choose a song that the Koreans could react to during forced Karaoke: Billy Jean was the winner.

Thursday: John got a job! That was such a relief. It's in another town, but that doesn't matter at all. If anything, we'll see more of each other now that he is on day shift.

Friday: One of my coteachers actually went out of her way to bring me lunch and sit and eat with me. This was so nice. I so often feel ignored and unappreciated at my school, so it was nice for somebody to go out of their way to do something nice for a change.

Taipei: the Food

Taiwanese food, man. It is so good. We ate mainly street or market food, but that didn't mean it was not awesome. I had easily the best dumplings I've ever tasted, both of the large soup dumpling variety and of the tiny, delicate-skinned in a broth variety.

Our food on the short plane ride: an omelet with spicy tomato sauce, roasted potatoes, and chicken sausage along with fruit and yogurt. It was only a sign of things to come.

I got this dumpling on the street near our hostel. Inside was a thick broth, a slice of tender marinated pork, and sauteed vegetables, all tucked inside a chewy dough dumpling with a crispy sesame shell. It spilled all over my clothes, but it was totally worth it.

snails from the night market with a garlicky, sesame-scented broth

These shrimp, pork, and vegetable dumplings came in a delicate broth flavored with ginger, lemon, and chili. They were then topped with crispy sauteed bean sprouts and fresh cilantro sprigs.

The various smoothie sellers all had their displays of fruit out; you could also buy portions of beautifully diced fresh fruit. They would hand out little samples on long toothpicks, so I got to try a variety of fruits that I'd never had before.

Thai iced tea: the smoothies and drinks were all handed out in these convenient little carrying bags.

Not pictured: the dozen or so Hazelnut lattes I had from the 7-11, which were the perfect blend of frothy milk and hazlenut flavor with no cloying sweetness and could be had for 1.60 USD. My breakfast rolls of sweet rice and barbecued meats, all wrapped up in smokey seaweed. Various pastries from the bakeries scattered across town, all of which made prodigious use of butter.

Yelling

The people in my office have the tendency to yell at each other. Not in an angry way (I think?), but rather just to have conversations from across the office at the top of their lungs. Being as that I don't understand what they are saying to me it sounds like random noises combined with the occasional "AAAYYYYYEEEE" or "WWAAAEEEE" or "GAAAAAAHHH." Random whiny noises and incredibly loud "MMMMMMMM"s are also scattered in there. (I'm seriously amazed at the ability of Koreans to put volume behind their hums.) They also do this in public, such as on the bus or in a shop. At least people over the age of thirty do so.

Between that, the Hungarian tendency to just randomly shout announcements into a room, and Spanish people generally being Spanish, I must admit that I'm rather confused as to why and how Americans got the stereotype of being loud. I mean, we are. But it seems to me like pretty much every other nationality is as well.

Hualien, the Food

When we first got to Hualien, we had a snack at the 7-11. And by snack, I mean a drink: our very first Bar Beer, and a strange mixed shot of knock-off Kahlua and Bailey's. It was exactly 5:00 PM. Doritos were also involved.

We came to love Bar Beer. It was made by Kirin, and cost about a dollar for a normal 330 ml can at the nonstop. The thing is, it was actually tasty. There was a flavor profile to it. So at the end of a long day of sight-seeing, we'd happily have a Bar Beer or two.

Our first night we went to a buffet of sorts, where your food is weighed and you pay by the gram. I got some sort of curried-pork-schnitzel thing, fish, squid, veggies, and omelet. Along with some thick and pungent sauces, and the omnipresent white rice, it was a great meal for about 6 USD.

We had these stir-fried noodles with mushrooms and vegetables deep within the Taroko Gorge National Park for about 2.60 USD. The mushrooms were so delicious, with this really unique toothiness to them that I hadn't experienced before.

The last night, we went to the night-market, where I had a fresh pineapple-and-cream smoothie, this beautiful pork dumpling, and stir-fried noodles with shaved lamb and fresh spring onions. I also tried some sweet-potato fries and traditional ice cream, but I don't have pictures of those. Night markets are the best place to eat, for sure!

Not pictured: various sweet breads and kimbap-type things (non-fish sushi rolls) purchased at the 7-11 and eaten as breakfast/snacks. 

Hualien, Taiwan

The first stop of my trip this January was Hualien, Taiwan. We arrived to the Taipei airport and took the bus into the city. Then we bought the next available train tickets to the countryside town. While still at the train station, we were pleasantly surprised to discover that Taiwan was a little bit different: people spoke great English and seemed genuinely happy to help us. The coffee at the 7-11 was delicious, and then man who sold it to me understood my little mumbled joke about not knowing what each piece of money it was. The lady I sat next to on the train was friendly and chatty, asking me about her life and telling me about her own. It was amazing.

The train ride, on the slow train, was also great. We were heading south along the eastern coast of the island, so to our right were these green cliffs, while to our left was the sea. Unfortunately, it was impossible to get a decent photo. It was very beautiful, though.

We arrived in the late afternoon and got a snack before checking into our hostel and resting a bit before heading out for dinner. We went to bed very early the first night because we were tired, our bed was almost too comfortable (it was actually hard to get out of!), and we were waking up early the next day to go hiking.

The next day we woke up early and walked back to the bus/train station, where we bought our day tickets for the Taroko Gorge National Park. We took the bus into the depths of the mountains, gaping at the sharp elevation differences and fearing slightly for our lives as we flew around corners on narrow mountain roads. The last stop was a sort of visitor center, and then we headed off for the waterfall path hike. It was beautiful, and relatively empty of crowds. At one point, we came out from a tunnel into the sparkling sunlight, and the waterfall was perfectly framed by the rock, and we all sort of gasped.

A stray mountain dog rests in the sun.

The best bathroom selfie: the sinks were outside in the open air, and about two meters behind us was a cliff.

The hiking trail was along this deep gorge made by this impossibly blue river through the mountains.

The waterfall, as framed by the entrance to the rock tunnel, with a terrifying suspension bridge below.

me and the waterfall

After completing that hike, we returned to the visitor center area for lunch, then checked out the Buddhist temple complex nearby. Finally, we headed back to the park entrance to see the botanical garden paths there, along with the entrance gate and the river delta, dried up in the winter but still determinedly reaching out toward the sea.

The Temple Complex, as seen from atop the seven-story pagoda, gleams in the sunlight.

my feet at the top of the double-helix staircase inside the pagoda

delta and, in the background, the sea

After heading back to town and resting some more, we went to the little night market on the other end of town for dinner. The next day we slept in and had a bit of a wander before catching the train back to Taipei.

Writing on a Saturday

Well, first off, I'm on an intercity bus and it's too dark for my kindle, which of course I left the light of at home. Second, I only blogged once last week, which was mainly a form of self preservation, to keep myself from saying things I'd come to regret on the internet. So I figure I owe the internet a bit of a catch up.

The sixth graders graduated on Wednesday in an interminable ceremony. I must admit I'm sad to see them go: while I sadly can't say I even know many of their real names, there were some that I had lovely conversation with regularly, or a fun and easy vibe in the lesson, and I felt I was having some sort of impact on them. I was able to differentiate the lessons for them pretty well because they were willing to work together and help each other. I'll miss them. I really hope the fifth graders mature a little bit now that they'll be the "big kids on campus." Because right now the maturity and level differences between the graduating and rising sixth graders is staggering.

After graduation the teachers took a sort of little excursion to eat pork and walk around a park area. As usual, all but my coteachers absolutely ignored me, but the food was delicious and the scenery was beautiful so I had a good time nonetheless. Thursday and Friday I was just deskwarming, alone in my office, which was relaxing and productive in its own way. I have two more days of that to look forward to next week before everyone comes back on Wednesday and I have to, like, start wearing proper clothes again.

I saw my friends in the evening on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. That was much needed.

Today I helped Tiffany move to her new city. I got up super early and then basically just helped her carry a few things and acted as a sounding board, as she'd hired movers for the majority of the stuff. So I feel like I didn't do all that much, but she assures me that it was a help. I also got to organize her kitchen; we all know how much I love creating systems so that made me very happy in that calming-my-demons sort of a way. Now I'm on the bus home from her town. I'm pretty sleepy, but not sleeping, for whatever reason.

Documentation

So. I didn't blog on Friday or yesterday because, frankly, I was pretty livid.

At school, I have an English room: English Room Two, precisely. It's a big room which I only use half of because the back half is taken up by storage, a stage, and a ton of computers. The special education classes also use the room, and we seem to have reached the agreement, without actually ever discussing it because I can't communicate with anyone at this school, that the back half of the class is theirs to mess up while the front half is mine to keep tidy.

Anyway, when I started teaching here I decided that I wanted my students to sit in groups, so I moved my strange trapezoidal tables into the best groups I could configure. Once or twice a week, I would come into my classroom to discover that my tables and chairs had been moved around. I mentioned this to my coteachers and was told that various and sundry groups used my classroom in the afternoon, so certainly they were just moving my tables to fit their needs, and also could I please leave the boards clean when I left after my lessons? I thought nothing more of it.

On several occasions I would come into my classroom in the morning to discover that things were a bit weird: blinds lifted, the sofa moved around, chairs knocked over. I figured that the afternoon teachers were letting the kids be overly rowdy on their way out of the classroom, something that is certainly an understandable assumption in this country where students hit, kick, and even bite each other in front of teachers who don't blink an eye. I would mention this to my coteachers, and they would, essentially, say "huh." So I let it go.

Fast forward to last Tuesday. I was leaving work (actually off campus already, on the sidewalk in front of the school yard) when an older man I'd never seen before, but assumed from the giant parcel of keys on his belt was a custodian of some sort, came up and started yelling at me. Like, literally yelling, in Korean. I said, repeatedly, that I didn't speak Korean. He yelled "window!" and then more Korean, for about five minutes, until he threw up his arms in frustration and stormed off.

So I asked my coteachers about it, and apparently a window was left open in my English room, and everyone was angry about it. Now, I had checked that Tuesday that my classroom was totally locked down, closed the doors and windows, and left. So, clearly, someone had gotten into my classroom again, and left a door open. Somehow this snowballed into a whole big thing. How was it possible that people had been getting into my classroom (the windows don't latch and the one door's lock is tricky and sometimes jams), Why didn't I tell anyone (I did, many times, and was blown off), Why didn't I make sure everything was closed when I left (I did).

So that started a new "you must check your classroom constantly and so must your coteacher" policy. Never mind the implication that I am unable to effectively check if windows are, in fact, closed on my own. This was a significant new amount of... if not work, then hassle. But, ok, fine. So I did that, and checked my room several times throughout each afternoon and before leaving for the day. In the meantime, the janitors came and wired the windows that opened to the hallway shut, so that students are definitely not able to climb through them any more.

Yesterday I got a phone call at home asking if I'd left a window open. When I got to work today, I wailed on the hallway windows and doors but they would not budge. So, obviously, somebody has a key to my classroom. Why they're going in after four thirty and opening windows in February is beyond me. But the locks aren't going to be replaced because there is no budget for them. I offered to buy the new locks myself, but they want to "wait and see."

The thing that most bothers me is that nobody seems to understand why I'm upset. The understanding that I'm too much of a moron to successfully close windows aside, there is the issue of liability. If someone is getting in here under unsavory circumstances, they could easily steal something. They could break the huge flat screen TV or a computer. Who would be liable for those damages, since I am so clearly responsible for everything that happens in this room even after I've left the school at the end of the day?

Or, terrifyingly, what would happen if it is students breaking in here, and they get hurt? What if they fall out of one of those windows they are leaving open? Who would be responsible for that? Am I expected to believe that the powers that be would accept the blame for not fixing this situation? Or would it suddenly turn out that I had magically never informed anyone of the security flaws?

So, obviously, I'm upset. Everyone thinks I'm overreacting. I was actually berated today, and told *while being berated* that nobody is blaming me or scolding me at all. I feel like this is all some kind of a joke, like somebody will jump out at any second and be like "Hahaha! Isn't this funny? You're on candid camera!" I kind of have to think that, or else I'd believe that they were just trying to stress me and hurt me on purpose.

I don't know. This is my documentation, I guess, if any of those worst-case scenarios mentioned above do happen. 

2013 in Review (with random vignettes for fun) Part Two (finally)

(See part one here.)

July: My dad arrived right at the end of June and we headed off on an adventure. We spent a day goofing around Budapest on bikes, then headed to Romania. It was a lot of fun, and nice to spend time with my dad, even though he flew all the way to Europe for only a week!

My dad left in the morning, and that evening Lyla and I headed to Azerbaijan. After being super pleasantly surprised that our printable visas were actually accepted (thank goodness), we found our lodging around 5 AM and crashed for a few hours. Then it was off to explore the city for a few days. Baku is actually a shockingly beautiful, cosmopolitan city, albeit one by all accounts trapped in a tricky situation of a country. New bumps right up into old in a rather surprising way. It was about a thousand degrees the whole time we were there, but with a strong, cold wind. It was one of those winds that gets you excited, that burrows under your skin and whispers tales of the sights it has seen. We also took an excursion out to swim in the Caspian Sea at perhaps the most terrifying beach ever. The people! They were so kind, welcoming, and lovely. The food... oh, man, the food.

I loved Baku. A lot of people have problems with Azerbaijan, but I adored its capital.

The bus system in Baku is crazy: you get on in the middle, and either get off from the front, paying as you go (if you can) or get off, walk to the front of the bus in traffic, and then pay the driver if the bus is too crowded. Tickets also cost like 10 cents. It's madness. Much crazier than matruskas, but I have since used Filipino jeepneys, so I don't know if it's the craziest system I've seen anymore.

The rest of the month of July I spent hustling around Budapest trying to see people, taste things one last time, and sell as much of my stuff as I could. I had lingering meals with friends, and my eyes welled up with tears every time I crossed the Danube. I moved out to Magda's in the suburbs for my last week, and spent a lot of the time clutching my confused ratties to my chest. It was also a billion degrees. I ate sztrapacska fusion tacos, and got pissed that I had never done so. I cried in the back seat of a taxi at 5 AM, sober but desolate, until the taxi driver pulled over and shared his disgusting Hungarian cigarettes with me somewhere in the empty streets of the outer sixth district, street lights painting the cobbles that color that only exists in Budapest.

And then, on July 29th, I got up by myself, kissed the furries goodbye, got in a taxi, and left.

Viszlát, Budapest. Isteni volt.

I don't know when I'll see you again, but I know that I could never be the same. I would not trade one second of my time in that beautiful, maddening city. As Örkény István defines it: HUNGARY. A mania (med. fixa idea) with a population of ten million. It is now generally regarded as curable, though this would take away much of its charm.

August: I spent the first two-and-a-half weeks of August in the States, bouncing between my dad's new house and my mom's old one, with a brief interlude of sleeping on the floor at my sister's while her cats danced on my face. As usual, I saw my family and my Little, hung out with the dogs, and binged on American food. It was a strange time, being "home."

Ginger is offended by your existence; Mia is offended by nothing.

August 19th, I arrived in Korea for orientation. Orientation was a blur: I attended classes on teaching that I'd heard a million times, I attended lectures on Korean life and culture that left me somewhat apprehensive, I learned my first few Korean words, and I met a whole metric ton of awesome and amazing fellow teachers. I also danced as the butt of a dragon. Then it was off to Daejeon and Munji Elementary School (문지초등학교), celebrating my 27th birthday, and settling in to my new town. August, you are a blur.

September: In September, teaching started in earnest. I also started to actually make friends in my town. I had a reunion with Isaac, got super wasty at a welcome party, and babysat other wasties at a different welcome party. I bought a bike and got a phone. I decorated my little flat, explored my town, started going to KOTESOL workshops, and just generally got to know how my new life would be. I also traveled to Busan and the coast for the five-day-weekend I had mid-month for Chuseok, the Korean version of Thanksgiving. That was beautiful.

Smokey also passed away. RIP my little friend. I hope you're up there in Rat Heaven beating up cats and gorging on peanut butter.

October: The first weekend in October was a long weekend for me, so I took advantage of the opportunity to hop the only available low-cost flight and go check out Osaka and Kyoto, Japan. It was totally awesome. I ate delicious food for every meal (including far too many orea mochis), saw beautiful temples and castles, and relaxed by myself. It was a great trip, and good to get away by myself after the flurry of socialization that was my first six weeks in Korea.

I traveled to Seoul for the international KOTESOL conference and learned a whole lot. I started volunteering at the animal shelter here. I watched a bunch of people dress up as zombies and then chase runners doing a 5K. I met a sweet boy. I celebrated Halloween twice in two towns. October was definitely busy, but it was also pretty awesome.

November: November started with a bang for me. I saw my first Korean wedding and then traveled to Daegu for my first Korean opera. I also did a temple stay mid-month, which was a crazy experience involving many bows and a lot of delicious vegetarian food. Then we made kimchi, which was fun.

Thanksgiving happened and was sort of a nonevent, as I was at work and conferencing. I got a new coteacher. I visited the dogs again and got into the habit of seeing the boy each weekend. Yeah, November was pretty chill.

December: It started to be pretty darn cold! That led to me discovering the joys of ondol, Korean-style floor heating, and spending a lot of time wrapped up in my blanket on the floor while watching TV. I was (am) a happy little caterpillar in a cocoon. The first weekend, I went on an overnight trip with my school to the west coast of Korea, and it was beautiful.

I got a language exchange partner, and started sort of learning Korean in earnest. There were many festivals at school, and very little teaching, so I relaxed and got ready for camp. Anna and Ryan visited Daejeon, leading to a ridiculous night of singing and dancing. Then it was Christmas time, but it didn't feel like it, despite receiving lovely packages from both my mother and father. I went to Jecheon the weekend before Christmas, then to Busan for Christmas day at the spa. Both were lovely trips in and of themselves, even if neither was super Christmas-y.

I rang in New Year's Eve with some barbecue and the group of girls that somehow became "my group" over the course of the fall, though I could never tell you exactly when. We laughed and drank champagne in the street before heading off to our various beds and boyfriends, and I felt hopeful and excited for 2014. It was a good way to end a beautiful year full of new things.