On Writing

The post immediately below this one is heavier on sentiment and lighter on tightly-written prose than usual. It's more difficult for me to write those sorts of posts well, so I ask you to be more forgiving of their defects.

Omega Alpha

Today is the last teaching day of the month, which means it's the last day of classes.  Most students will re-register, and next month they'll be with many of the same classmates.  Those who decided to take--and managed to pass!--the exit test can re-register at a higher level; they'll join a new group of students.  Occasionally, with stronger classes, everyone passes the exit test, and they all move up together.  This tends to happen when students enjoy their class and they all get along well with each other; the stronger ones wait to move up for a month or so until the weaker ones are able to pass the test.  Of course, this is the most gratifying result--and probably the most desirable result all-around.  One of my colleagues had one such class.

Some students will choose not to re-register.  This is the worst case scenario from my employer's point of view (well, actually, the worst case scenario is when a student registers and drops the class before the refund deadline, but I didn't have any of those).  Sometimes, however, my preferences don't line up with theirs. For example, one of my students got the job he wanted, so he won't take another English class next month. That's a good result, as far as I'm concerned.  Though it's bad for business, and although I'm sorry to lose him, I'm happy for him.

My supervisor tries to rotate the teaching schedule, so that next month, I'll get new classes with new students.  It's nice to have a fresh start, and it's nice to be finished with classes that don't quite click, but it's sad to say goodbye to students and classes that are a pleasure to teach.  

I was particularly sad to say goodbye to one of my classes that ended this morning.  We held the class at a restaurant (which is my prerogative to exercise, once a month, for each class), and afterward we headed to Starbucks for coffee.  While there, they all thanked me for the class, expressing their gratitude for my patient and forgiving teaching style.  It was undoubtedly the most rewarding moment of my year--moreso, even, than my university graduation.  And I don't doubt their sincerity: It was my last class of the morning so I didn't need to get back to work right away; I, and almost everyone else, stayed to chat for hours after the class ended. We exchanged cell phone numbers before we went our separate ways. It made my day, which spurred me to write about it here.

Extraordinary Times

Every once in awhile something amazing happens: humans create the Internet; a nearby star goes supernova; philosophers solve one problem without creating at least two new ones; George W. Bush enacts good policy.  The list goes on. Well, folks, add another one--and it might top the list!  

The Saskatchewan Roughriders won the Grey Cup.  Never thought I'd see the day.

Define "Date"

According to my students, I went on a date on Sunday.  I was, um, surprised to hear this.  Our definitions differ.  But, hey, I had a good time, and so did she, so maybe it doesn't matter that much.

I felt like I had a handle on this in Canada, but now I feel like I'm 16 again, figuring out these things for the first time.

Update

Turns out our school isn't losing its best teacher after all. It's been a weird week, but things seem to have worked out for the best.

Photo Of The Day

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It's been a wild week and it's only Wednesday night. I've had two huge surprises thrown at me in as many days. Tuesday's put me on cloud nine, but today's slammed me back down to earth. I feel like a pinball, being shoved around by forces beyond my control. I'm upset, angry, disappointed, and depressed from today's news, but there's also the residue of ecstasy left over from yesterday's surprise. It's a wicked cocktail of emotions.

Bottom line: I'll be fine. I'm losing a great supervisor, and our school is losing its best teacher, but life will go on and I'll get over it eventually. So it goes.

Two Things

1) I have written, and will continue to write, words and phrases on this blog in Korean. It's possible that you won't be able to see these on your computer screen. If indeed you can't see them, likely you'll see small boxes in their place. This is because Windows computers lack Korean language fonts by default. Korean language packs can be installed, however, so if you want to remedy this, it's definitely possible. I'll try to translate any Korean into English, but I won't always do so.

2) Whenever I write Korean names, I'll follow Korean convention and write the family name first, followed by the given names. I won't suddenly start doing this with Western names, obviously, but it's something to be aware of.

See? Foreign Ingredients

김덕수 (Kim Duk Soo) is one of my favorite newly-discovered artists. He fronts a group called 사물놀이 (SamulNori), which shares its name with an entire genre of Korean music. It's best described as a fusion of jazz and traditional Korean stylings. It's generally upbeat, energetic, and very foreign-sounding. One of my students lent me one of the group's CDs (specifically, 난장-뉴호라이즌, if you're interested), and I owe her my thanks for it.

Ex Post Facto

I went to a fancy pants banquet tonight at the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Seoul, held by my employer. There was some good entertainment, good wine, and lots of good food--with more forks and fewer chopsticks than I've seen in awhile. There was lots of good company, too, like the cute Korean English teacher sitting beside me (unfortunately, she's from Daegu, which is about four hours away from Seoul). I got some compliments on my Korean pronunciation, no doubt because I didn't use much Korean beyond "thank you." Also, purely by accident, I ran into another Canadian expat from Saskatoon!

Beer Good

One of my Australian colleagues--well, supervisors, actually--took me out for a beer tonight. Both of us finished earlier than the other teachers (there are six native English speakers at my school) and I think he wanted an opportunity to chat with me. Plus, he said that in his experience Canadians have good taste about these things.

I suggested a place nearby that sells Big Rock beer. I hadn't walked in but I had seen the sign and I had recognized the name. Some of you might recognize it too. It's from Calgary, AB. So we sat down and had a beer from Calgary in a pub on the other side of the world in Seoul, South Korea. It wasn't something I expected to do before I arrived, but life is full of pleasant surprises. And sometimes it's not: as he expected, my colleague was impressed by my recommendation.

On Daemosan

I met a man on Mt. Daemo today ("san" means "mountain"). I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said that he was a bit pushy. He introduced himself, grabbed my arm, and spoke with me for a minute or two; before I knew it, he was asking me to converse with his daughter. He obviously wanted me to agree to the request: His hand grasped my arm as he asked. I had little else to do, so I politely acquiesced. I hesitated because his daughter didn't want to speak with me at first. Mostly she was shy and also, I think, deathly afraid of failing--in front of me and in front of her father. Her reluctance didn't come as a surprise to me. It's common of Koreans, especially children.

Her English skills were impressive for her age. I'd put her at an intermediate level at YBM, which is where I teach adults. We talked for awhile, and afterward her father asked me what I thought of her English ability. She was a nice girl, and I didn't want to get her into trouble, so I inflated my estimation. I told him that she was somewhere between an intermediate and an advanced level. He seemed satisfied with my answer and I continued on up the mountain.

Living as a visible minority in a society as foreign as this one will make anyone feel separate from it. But this encounter was the first time I felt this different from everyone else. I was the white male English teacher from Canada. In this society, all of that matters, much more than any of it matters in Canada.

Photo Of The Day

Oops!

10 Things To Do (And Not To Do) In Korea

1) Never wear your shoes in someone's home. Take them off at the entrance.
2) Slurping your food isn't rude. Do it guilt-free.
3) Don't leave your chopsticks in your bowl or on your plate. Leave them on a napkin on the table when you're not using them.
4) Don't tip.
5) Try to give and receive things, like business cards and cash, with both hands.
6) Wait for the oldest person at the table to start eating before you do. Likewise, don't leave until the oldest person has finished.
7) Offer to pour others' drinks when drinking with them. Reciprocate their offers.
8) Defer to your elders. Don't argue.
9) Assert yourself in crowds and on the street. Don't wait for cars. Be a bit pushy.
10) Come visit me!

Photo Of The Day

Photo Of The Day

Speaking The Language

One of the most common questions people back home ask me is whether or not I know the Korean language. I don't yet, not really. I do know some basic phrases, and my pronunciation is apparently rather impressive for a beginner. That's thanks to some Korean friends back home, who were enormously helpful teachers. I'm looking forward to seeing one of them again next month when she returns to Seoul. But despite the help, I can't say much beyond "yes/no," "hello/goodbye," "hurry!," "please/thanks/sorry," "may I have...?," "do you have...?," "how much does it cost?," "can you cut the price?," and some basic vocabulary. However, even this much is helpful if you want to be able to, for example, ask for more water in a restaurant--or a fork, for those dishes that are too hard to eat with chopsticks!

I can sort of read Hangul, and that's enormously helpful. Here's an anecdotal example. Until recently, I stayed in a motel. There was a dispenser on the wall in the bathroom, which dispensed three liquids. The first, reading phonetically, sounded like "sham-pu;" the second was "rin-see;" and the third was more or less "cleanser" (the sounds are difficult to replicate in English with the Roman alphabet). So I figured out which one to use to wash my hair. Obviously, knowing how to read isn't going to help you if the Korean words are completely foreign to you, but it does help from time to time. And, at least in my case, it's hard not to desire to learn more.

In The Jungle

There are, of course, a great many differences you notice upon arrival in Seoul, regardless of where you're from. Some are more acute than others. The sum of their effects, though, is to create an entirely unique experience for the first-timer. It's difficult to contain in words the sense of wonderment I felt immediately upon my arrival in Gangnam. It's another world I stepped into.

But first things first. If you're reading this, likely you have no idea what I mean when I refer to Gangnam. So right there, I think, is the best place to start. Seoul is massive. I mean really, really, really massive. It's one of the largest cities in the world by population. If you consider the entire Seoul National Capital Area, including Incheon, which is where the airport is, it's the second most populous metro area in the world, behind only Tokyo. But it's more densely populated than Tokyo.

Seoul is divided into districts. You can think of these as neighborhoods if you like, though the term "neighborhood" seems ill-suited--too rural--to describe them. Gangnam is one of these districts, and it's probably the busiest. Traffic jams are the norm. So perhaps it shouldn't be surprising to see cab drivers run red lights, or to see motorcycle riders weave through the gridlock, sometimes into oncoming lanes. Still, it surprised me.

In addition to its people, Gangnam is also home to a great deal of wealth. You can see evidence of this when you walk down the street. During the day and in the evening, walking on the sidewalk requires more than a little concentration in order to weave in and around the crowd of people, all dressed immaculately, stylishly, and with surprising individuality. No doubt many work in the corporate headquarters of multinational corporations, like Samsung, located in Gangnam.

The people, of course, are all Korean. Multiculturalism is an idea barely worth thinking about here. White people stick out; Black people don't exist. Appearances matter to Koreans, and it shows. Cosmetics stores are everywhere, outnumbered only, perhaps, by restaurants and clothes boutiques. Food and clothes are cheap by Western standards, even in Gangnam, but it's hard not to notice that at least some of the fabrics Koreans wear aren't up to Western standards. And the food is cheaper in Gangnam only if you eat Korean food. Thankfully, I enjoy the food--maybe more than Western food!--but I'm not a picky eater. Many people are. If they don't think they are before they arrive, they quickly realize afterward.

Skyscrapers are everywhere. Chain stores are ubiquitous. For example, I work at a YBM adult language school. There are four of these within a few city blocks of each other. There's one across the street from where I work. This sort of thing is not at all unique. You'll commonly see two of the same stores at once. It's amusing, although it can make navigation difficult; the streets of Gangnam are familiar even if you've walked down only a few of them. Right now, for me, there's nothing more exciting than walking down more and more of them.