There were many random things left in my apartment by the previous occupier, for example, a hula hoop, an exercise ball, two plants, paper lanterns from China, a life-size-penis-shaped bottle opener, a jump rope, a world map labeled in Korean...to name a few . But possibly my favorite was a tiny piece of paper that had been removed from a fortune cookie that simply said, "You will always be surrounded by true friends."
It has recently dawned on me that I have an amazing community in Korea. In just three or four short months a beautiful array of personalities surrounds me. And it would be safe to say no two are alike. I've always thought I possibly had some sort of magnetism for good souls, but it is certainly official.
The beauty of moving to a foreign land is that you befriend almost anyone that crosses your path, opening up your social life to supreme diversity. You want to leave all options open and build up a friend base, and ultimately a support group for what you know you will inevitably feel, homesick. When homesick moments arise, you know you can turn to these people to feel home again. They make you feel comfortable, like you maybe want to stay awhile and then you are reminded that home will always be there.
The one thing that is hard about my social situation in Korea is that people are always coming and going. Friendships have an easy option of being determined by contract length, vacations, or weekend getaways. But the good ones, I clench on to.
Today I had to say good-bye to a friend I had met just two months ago, his girlfriend I only met two weeks ago, and her sister who I had only met today. While these people hadn't been in my life a substantial amount of time, they made a substantial impact on my life. Although we live thousands of miles apart and it could even be years until the next time I see them, we shared something many people consider rare, a candid friendship made up of genuine people. And although, I've been told these sorts of situations are rare in one's life, I know I will always be surrounded by true friends...no matter which speck of Earth I have paused on.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Honeymoon is sooooo Over.
Stage three here I am. My honeymoon lasted longer than most, I think, but after three and a half months it is surely over. My days as a laid-back carefree teacher are now over with the dismissal of my Indianian c0-teacher, the leaving of the Massachusetts-hailing head-teacher, and the arrival of a new Wisconsinite teacher. This makes me the most experienced English teacher after only arriving less than four months ago. My responsibilities have surely increased. Not only am I training, but I am now creating the listening CD's for our students, creating material for our textbooks and helping form the bridge between the boss, the Korean teachers, and the two English teachers. I guess, to be honest, my job has become a real job and not just a walk in the park.
Other than my job, I now feel the need to get out of Gyesan (the area of Incheon where I live) and venture out as much as possible. This means I try to get to Seoul as much as possible. If I can't get to Seoul I go to Yeonsu. If I can't get to Yeonsu I go to Bupyeong. And the list goes on. I'm trying really hard to get even farther now and see even more of Korea. Have I mentioned that South Korea is about the size of Minnesota...
This little travel trick is what is going to keep me going. As long as I am experiencing new things, I am enjoying life. Daejeon, Cheonan, Cheongju...here I come!
Check out a map of South Korea! Zoom In and Zoom Out
Other than my job, I now feel the need to get out of Gyesan (the area of Incheon where I live) and venture out as much as possible. This means I try to get to Seoul as much as possible. If I can't get to Seoul I go to Yeonsu. If I can't get to Yeonsu I go to Bupyeong. And the list goes on. I'm trying really hard to get even farther now and see even more of Korea. Have I mentioned that South Korea is about the size of Minnesota...
This little travel trick is what is going to keep me going. As long as I am experiencing new things, I am enjoying life. Daejeon, Cheonan, Cheongju...here I come!
Check out a map of South Korea! Zoom In and Zoom Out
Friday, March 6, 2009
When did my name become teacher?
After three months of hearing Korean children scream, "TEACHER!!!" I finally feel like one. Or at least I finally realize that I am one. I have to say it is one of the best feelings I have felt. A few specific anecdotes have made me consider being a teacher forever...never subscribing to another desire in my employee career. Many of them come in the form of fantastic creative writing. My students constantly surprise me with their ability to express themselves creatively through their foreign language...and then I realize I may have something to do with it.
"Korea doesn't have any resources, so Korea made their people their resources."
"I can keep a promise, but I’m bad at keeping track of time. So I no longer make promises that are about time."
"My winter vacation was forty-two days short."
"Korea doesn't have any resources, so Korea made their people their resources."
"I can keep a promise, but I’m bad at keeping track of time. So I no longer make promises that are about time."
"My winter vacation was forty-two days short."
Their ability to write scholarly, sarcastically, or creatively isn't such as a surprise as their speaking. Our school largely focuses on writing, so while I am impressed with their writing, when developed and thoughtful sentences escape through their mouths, I tend to stop dead in my tracks...especially when they build one about me.
These few instances have been storms of thought and diction in a drought of English expression. Most of my students speak very slowly with very broken English. But, it is these breakthroughs that make me feel like maybe my job has merit and that to them I'm not just an alien-looking blonde speaking in a indecipherable language, but rather their teacher.
"Vanessa, you know a lot of Korean words, how did you do that?"
Me: "You know a lot of English words, don't you."
"Yes, but I have a good teacher."
After busting out my wallet to show kids what American driver's licenses look like...
"Vanessa, I respect you."
"I was just curious, who taught you English." ...good question. ha.
"I was just curious, who taught you English." ...good question. ha.
These few instances have been storms of thought and diction in a drought of English expression. Most of my students speak very slowly with very broken English. But, it is these breakthroughs that make me feel like maybe my job has merit and that to them I'm not just an alien-looking blonde speaking in a indecipherable language, but rather their teacher.
Monday, March 2, 2009
we've got no chance of recovery
I don't know how much more enjoyable my life could get at the current moment and it is all thanks to the people I have met in South Korea!
“Man can not discover new oceans
unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore."
click here for a more life-like version
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
The Age Experiment
Background/Hypothesis
What's in a number? What's in an age? Is it possible to make yourself forget how old you are? Is it possible to change your age? Korean's are quite strange about their age, and by strange I mean different than I. It's impossible to tell how old they are in the first place, and then they go and change the reality of their age through a cultural aging process. It makes me wonder a lot of things. For example, are they more pro-life since they become age one at birth? And when are you really legally able to drink, or buy cigarettes, or participate in other stupid activities that we are allowed to do when our age reaches a higher number? What is considered an adult? All these contemplations brought me to even more thoughts about age, however, this time in a more global fashion rather than a Korean-American thought process.
Why do we put so much weight on the answer to the question, "How old are you?" As we get older does age become more important, or less? What age we are largely determines who we hang out with, or who becomes our colleagues. But does it also determine how we are viewed. The age old saying "act your age" has strange connotations. When people first meet they tend to inquire about names, jobs, hobbies, living location, and age. However, when people reach a certain age it is considered rude to ask. When we are very young we break our age down to the halves and three-quarter marks. But what about in our mid-twenties to mid-thirties, when age isn't too disgraceful or embarrassing yet?
I conducted an experiment...not intentionally by any means, but I soon realized that the situation I was in was perfect to answer all my questions. I happen to be going into a weekend trip in which I would be meeting many new people, potentially from all over the world. I would see how long it would take for people to want to know my age. I was curious how important my age would be, or how it would reflect on who I was. I wanted to know how old people thought I was. My hopes were that the question would never come up and I planned to not ask the question unless asked myself. Could we make it through a whole weekend without feeling the need to define our age differences?
The Results
I made it through an entire 42 hours without anyone asking my age. I was truly impressed. This is when my experiment took an interesting turn. I decided to say my Korean age and see the reaction. The inquirer told me that I seemed 20 or 21. To my surprise, I was offended. And I didn't think age mattered to me. Seeming two or three years younger than I actually was, made me feel self-concious and that maybe I was acting immaturely. Age was only commented on two other times throughout the weekend. I was actually surprised. I also happened to be hanging out with an extraordinary breed of people, travelers, doers, go-getters... Maybe they all felt the same way about age as I did, unlike my Korean co-workers or my friends still in The States. Maybe they all thought I was crazy. Whatever the case, I learned a lot.
I have a new approach to age living in South Korea; where age seems more of a creation than authenticity. So how old do you feel? When I was young I wanted to be older, because with age comes wisdom, but as I get older sometimes I feel girlish, particularly when I fall into my foolish ways.
How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?
What's in a number? What's in an age? Is it possible to make yourself forget how old you are? Is it possible to change your age? Korean's are quite strange about their age, and by strange I mean different than I. It's impossible to tell how old they are in the first place, and then they go and change the reality of their age through a cultural aging process. It makes me wonder a lot of things. For example, are they more pro-life since they become age one at birth? And when are you really legally able to drink, or buy cigarettes, or participate in other stupid activities that we are allowed to do when our age reaches a higher number? What is considered an adult? All these contemplations brought me to even more thoughts about age, however, this time in a more global fashion rather than a Korean-American thought process.
Why do we put so much weight on the answer to the question, "How old are you?" As we get older does age become more important, or less? What age we are largely determines who we hang out with, or who becomes our colleagues. But does it also determine how we are viewed. The age old saying "act your age" has strange connotations. When people first meet they tend to inquire about names, jobs, hobbies, living location, and age. However, when people reach a certain age it is considered rude to ask. When we are very young we break our age down to the halves and three-quarter marks. But what about in our mid-twenties to mid-thirties, when age isn't too disgraceful or embarrassing yet?
I conducted an experiment...not intentionally by any means, but I soon realized that the situation I was in was perfect to answer all my questions. I happen to be going into a weekend trip in which I would be meeting many new people, potentially from all over the world. I would see how long it would take for people to want to know my age. I was curious how important my age would be, or how it would reflect on who I was. I wanted to know how old people thought I was. My hopes were that the question would never come up and I planned to not ask the question unless asked myself. Could we make it through a whole weekend without feeling the need to define our age differences?
The Results
I made it through an entire 42 hours without anyone asking my age. I was truly impressed. This is when my experiment took an interesting turn. I decided to say my Korean age and see the reaction. The inquirer told me that I seemed 20 or 21. To my surprise, I was offended. And I didn't think age mattered to me. Seeming two or three years younger than I actually was, made me feel self-concious and that maybe I was acting immaturely. Age was only commented on two other times throughout the weekend. I was actually surprised. I also happened to be hanging out with an extraordinary breed of people, travelers, doers, go-getters... Maybe they all felt the same way about age as I did, unlike my Korean co-workers or my friends still in The States. Maybe they all thought I was crazy. Whatever the case, I learned a lot.
I have a new approach to age living in South Korea; where age seems more of a creation than authenticity. So how old do you feel? When I was young I wanted to be older, because with age comes wisdom, but as I get older sometimes I feel girlish, particularly when I fall into my foolish ways.
How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?
Friday, January 23, 2009
My New Language
Don't expect this post to be about how I am learning Korean, because I'm not. I've picked up the necessities to get me fed and transported, but unfortunately that's as far as it goes.
Instead my new language is terrible English. I have reverted to talking like my students instead of correcting them with proper English. They yell, "confused, spelling!" And I begin spelling, "c-o-n-f-u..," without even hesitating to tell them the proper sentence, "Vanessa, how do you spell 'confused'?"
I speak in fragments such as, "sit, quiet, writing not talking," "homework check," "friday no here." I do all of this while using as much body language as possible. I have invented a new language, or rather conformed to my students way of communication. I have done this in order to get through a day and the material I'm required to finish. When I don't dumb-down my English, I have 5-10 dumbfounded students staring back at me. Therefore, I work at an "English Academy," and if I were to speak in coherent English, no one would be able to understand me.
Now that this revelation has occurred, I'm going to do my best to be a more valuable English teacher. I've also taken up vocabulary expansion, and for the first time since fifth grade, I'm attempting to improve my spelling. It is amusing how becoming an English teacher is making me teach myself English in quite an indirect way. Now if I could only stop saying borrowed instead of lent...
Now that this revelation has occurred, I'm going to do my best to be a more valuable English teacher. I've also taken up vocabulary expansion, and for the first time since fifth grade, I'm attempting to improve my spelling. It is amusing how becoming an English teacher is making me teach myself English in quite an indirect way. Now if I could only stop saying borrowed instead of lent...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
