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

Ramping Up

It's bizarre to speak of another country as home. The fact is, though, that South Korea will be our home for the next year (and, depending on how things go, who knows how much longer). However, it's starting to become easier to think of this new life in that light. On that note, two otherwise seemingly incongruous idioms converge here : 1) Home is where the heart is; and 2) Love means knowing and loving someone's faults. These sage sayings, when put together, accurately illustrate how I have begun to feel about South Korea. There are many aggravating things (delayed decisions, prejudice, vanity), but there are also so many exhilarating, beautiful, unique things to balance them out, things which we have begun to outline in earlier blogs.
We've only been here two weeks - I'm being overly sentimental, I know. Not to mention the fact that we haven't begun working yet. A month from now, this blog will probably turn into a rant and rave page to vent our frustrations. But let the magic continue for a bit. Imagine this - one month from now, Joel and I have trouble making time in our schedule for all our Bible studies. We walk into the Kingdom Hall and are surrounding by loving, supportive fellow workers. Five days a week, we jaunt happily into school, knowing that each day will be filled with fun activities and enthusiastic students. Every night, we go home to a perfectly peaceful apartment, ideal for rest and study. To top it all off, we savor every succulent, spicy bite of our favorite Korean dishes.
Maybe none of this fantasy will be realized. Maybe half of it will be. I have to believe that attitude plays a large role. Watching the Olympic swimmers offers an admirable model - the last few moments right before they dive into the pool, they stare intently down the wide racing lane, appearing to be entranced by the ripples. But any athlete knows this is no zen relaxation technique; the Olympians are picturing in their mind every stroke to the most minute detail. They know that in order to be successful, they must not only be prepared physically, but mentally. Only by visualizing a winning race can they actualize what they envision. Life abroad is no competition, or if it is, it is only a competition against oneself. However, envisioning the most successful outcome has never failed in the past to bring me closer to that ideal situation. So fire the starting pistol - we're ready to go.

Azure

P.S. Guess what this is . . .

Still in Seoul

Monday afternoon, three days left of training. Thursday night we're supposed to know what school will be our new home. We're anxious. We'd like to know exactly where it is in the city, where our place will be, etc. Simply stated, we're anxious to settle down and begin.

The EPIK classes are relatively interesting. There have been a couple odd classes, where the stated purpose does not correspond to the actual information/instruction. What can we say? It's Korea!

On a different note, we took a field trip yesterday to a Korean folk village. That was kinda cool. There is a genuine feel that Korea is trying to hold on to traditions of yestermillenia, but as with everywhere in the west, it's proving vain.

Thus we begin...

Here we are, in Seoul, Konkuk University more precisely. Orientation has begun. So far, it's been really nice. All the employees for EPIK have bent over backwards to help everyone. They room us in college dorms (pretty sweet rooms with awesome views), they feed us three times a day, and they do their best to provide meaningful instruction and entertainment as well.

Are there problems? Sure...things are a bit disorganized. One girl who has taught in Korea for five years calls it organized chaos. For instance, the training manual we're given is fantastic. Lots of good suggestions for classroom instruction are provided. However, none of the employees seem to know what's in the book! They look at it as if they have never seen it before!

Problems? Sure...there will always be problems. Anything we can't deal with? No way! Truth is, the majority of the teachers here seem very ready to overcome any hurdle to being good teachers and guests in Korea. The few that aren't...well, they simply won't make it and we'll be seeing their posts on Dave's ESL website!

I Found My Thrill on Dangdaemun Hill

"Besame . . . besame mucho." The lilting, softly accented voice was somewhat overpowered by the electronic keyboard. Neither were any match for the sparkling personality of Mr. Han, the self-proclaimed "Korean Louis Armstrong." The fedora-topped elderly gentleman approached us while we searched one of the many electronic markets in Seoul for a converter. After inviting us to a "nightclub," the dance hall for empty nesters where the following video took place, Mr. Han regaled us with stories of his karaoke escapades and attempted to cajole us into drinking with him. Young people chuckled as they walked by, noticing how the white-haired crooner had cornered us. Mr. Han claimed, "I love to talk to foreigners," and although his touchy-feely approach made me wonder whether he was on ecstasy, it was a fun detour during our night exploring the vibrant city of Seoul.
Azure

South Korea's got Seoul..........

Ya ya, corny I know. But Seoul is a soulful city. It is a case study in uncontrolled urban expansion. It is a case study in capitalism gone wild. It is a case study in 20 million people running everywhere they go.

Sound bad? It's not. Seoul is amazing. However, Azure and I are glad we aren't living here. Gwang-ju will be a great town to work, with Seoul being a great town to visit. Hey, it's only four hours away on the most comfy bus you'll ever ride on!

More later....time to find breakfast.
Joel