B-ball in K-town

Last night, we played basketball with a few Korean friends. Here's a switchup for you - usually I hate to play basketball because everyone is so aggressive and competitive that it makes me uncomfortable. Last night, the Korean brothers all gaped as I jumped right into the game and slapped the ball out of other players' hands. Suddenly, I began to feel like a monster - a little like that big furry guy that was Wolverine's rival in X-Men. Although I was just playing like I'm used to in the States, it is clearly a whole different ballgame here. The style of gameplay here is just so much more hands-off.

After the first round, our friend Chris said, "Azure, the next game will be brothers only." Although the number of players was uneven, I couldn't help but feel that it had a little bit to do with the fact that most sisters come to the courts in skirts and heels and practice dribbling and shooting between games. Rather than get offended or insist, however, I've come to appreciate that yielding to this difference is equal to respecting their culture. If a Taiawnese person came to the States and continued to belch loudly in public (one sister in my old congregation actually belched into a mic during her talk), people would be offended and no one would want to be around him or her. So let the boys have their b-ball. While not content to sit on the sidelines munching on rice crisps with the sisters, compromise comes in the form of a jogging track. Who knows, maybe one day I'll even join the group of middle-aged women in the aerobics room practicing the tricky solo waltz.

Photo to be added later!

Azure

Korean-American Flee Trade Agleement

We've now been in Gwangju for a week, and I know you'll forgive us for waiting so long to describe our initial experiences. It has been a whirlwind of activity - no, scratch that - it has been a bipolar week of frenzied plans and panicked preparation punctuated by moments of synapse-coagulating boredom. The definite impression is that it will be this way most of the time.

Let me give you a run-down of my day at school today as an example. I arrived at school at 8:30 am, hurried down to the supply area to laminate some flash cards. Walking down the hallway, I jumped over students who had tripped and run into each other because they were staring at me and exclaiming, "Waaaaaaaa! You are so beautiful!" It's quite an ego boost, but I can't help but think how disenchanted they'll be once they get used to me. After that, I started my first class, dancing around the classroom and acting out the vocabulary. Between classes, there is a ten-minute break - much too long for unoccupied students who generally just wreak havoc for 9 1/2 minutes while the teachers desperately seek the relative serenity of the teacher's work area. I say relative serenity because students are constantly in the teacher's area, being rebuked or turning in assignments or finding another reason to come in and gape at the new foreign teacher. After this, three more classes follow in succession. By this time, it's time for lunch - an entire hour during which basically unsupervised children do whatever they want. On most days, the building starts to shake at a certain point. Several students were having a water balloon fight in the stairwell yesterday. There is something to check the madness - the students clean the school after school every day. If that's not a deterrent, I don't know what is.

After lunch, I have nothing to do for three more hours but surf the internet, read a book, or just stare at that brown spot on the wall to try to decipher what it could be. Thrilling.

When school ends, I head back to our cozy new home. We have all the necessities - stove, A/C, washer - but none of the luxuries that we're used to at home, like a microwave, a clothes dryer, or cheese. Our home is located just off a street that is named for the special dish that nearly every restaurant on that street sells, called ttukgalbi.
It's beef short ribs, chopped up, cooked up, and wrapped up in a lettuce leaf like a burrito. Good stuff.
We'll post pictures of our place soon. For now, rest assured in the fact that we're safe happy, and "beautiful teacher!"

Azure