Bulejji, Man!

Well, it’s Sunday evening once again, and this time around I am trying to look at the coming week not as a purgatory to be endured or fast-forwarded if at all possible, but as an actual, enjoyable part of my life, not unlike the weekend. After all, I like my job, and I usually come home before five. I just have a built-in panic mechanism that kicks on when I watch the weekend die. It happens every single week during the school year, and I would probably be much happier if I learned to shift my perspective. Certainly Chris would; he seems a little tired of the Sunday-evening consoling routine.

Yesterday we went on excursion in true Korean style. Our successful imitation of Korean-style day tripping was due to the fact that our school founder, Mrs. Chung, arranged this bus trip for all faculty and Korean staff. Mrs. Chung is wonderful, so naturally most of us wanted to take her up on her generous offer. Not everyone came, but close enough – 60+ teachers and 30+ Korean staff members were there. Part of the appeal of such a cattle-herd type outing is spending time with the Korean staff, many of whom we would love to know better. Not least of them is David (in the photo on the left), who is really more monkey than man, and is about as generous with his hugs as Chris is uncomfortable receiving them. Well, if there's anyone Chris will permit to hug him excessively, it just might be David.

We embarked in three yellow buses at 7 a.m. to drive across the peninsula and visit a scenic Buddhist site, Woljongsa Temple. The temple was built during the Shilla kingdom, so it’s quite old (the web says 643 AD, although I'm not sure I'm buying that - somewhere else it was described as "over 1,000 years old), but you’d never know to look at it. From what we can tell, all or most of the many Buddhist temples in Korea are in immaculate upkeep, which may enhance their overall touristic value, but limits the “scenic rusticity” I find myself seeking when I look at them. We took the picture on the left; the one on the right came from the Internet - they must have taken it while some armed guards held the hordes at bay, because I can't imagine it's ever that deserted.

Well, in summary, although the landscape (particularly at the hike we did after the temple visit - the deciduous trees are just starting to change, and it looks the way I imagine the east coast does this time of year) was stunning, droves of tourists inevitably cause me to appreciate beautiful scenery less. The curious thing is that Koreans don’t seem to mind. Apparently, driving to this particular temple during this particular season is a Korean tradition, so everyone knows that they won’t be enjoying any solitude at their destinations. They also realize that their return trip will be anywhere from 1 – 3 hours longer due to the massive traffic created by all the day-trippers. So we spent between 7 and 8 hours on the bus yesterday, and approximately 2 hours outside of it.

So, our cultural discoveries were less about Buddhism or native Korean tree species, and more about crowds of Korean tourists and action movies. On the bus we were privileged to view The Island, a futuristic clone-fantasy with Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johansson (this must be a few years old, but I had never heard of it), which I enjoyed despite its half-baked plot and half-assed acting; and Die Hard 4, which may have seemed stupid because I could barely hear it, or may (and this seems more likely) just have been a very, very stupid movie. I also learned a new phrase that sounds like “Bulejji, man” (it’s probably just one word, but the ‘man’ on the end makes it far easier for me to remember), meaning, roughly, “Stop pushing me!” This is intended for the ruthless ajumas – the term refers to middle-aged women who roam Korea in droves (usually 3 abreast on sidewalks, walking slowly and making sure to block those moving faster from passing them), using their elbows, umbrellas, and any number of other accoutrements to ram the hell out of everyone else, foreigners and Koreans alike. These are the same women who favor the lengthy visor. They also enjoy cutting in line in front of people – particularly clueless, foreign people, I think – so Chris, rather than mastering “Bulejji, man,” has taken to brute force, grabbing them and removing them from the line. This is proving even more effective than learning Korean. Note: I found this informative entry on someone else's blog, so in case we are too disorganized to ever put together such a thorough exposé of Korean-style hiking, this will give you all the shocking details: http://www.moonfun.net/Korea_Files/Nigel_Korea.html

Other cultural discoveries this week – I started listening to a folky guy named Mason Jennings, and when I asked Samuel about him, was told that he was “a little light, no?” (this is all too true; Mr. Jennings is already entering the “music I like but am somewhat ashamed of” category). Samuel proceeded to inform me that he preferred Shooter Jennings, and it was thus that I learned that the late, legendary Waylon has a son who is actually named SHOOTER. I really wish that this man’s music weren’t quite so low-budget – I really want to like Waylon’s son; who wouldn’t? I have managed to find a few tolerable songs, but can’t bring myself to enjoy the Paradise City cover. (Can you guess just from the photos which is Mason and which is Shooter?)

Finally, all the tech training I spent last week’s entry whining about paid off somewhat. This morning I recorded my first podcast to use with my Spanish classes. I haven’t come up with any fun uses of podcasting – much like blogs, podcasts seem designed in part for people who are enamored of their own words. But they may turn out to be pretty useful for teaching. I can record myself and make my students listen to oral samples for homework, and with any luck, I can persuade some native speakers (hint hint . . . Samolo, are you reading this?) to contribute as well.

See you all next week – we’re touring the DMZ on Saturday, which, as our Korean teacher put it, has to be “the most BORING place on the planet – there’s nothing there! Why do all foreigners want to go there?” So that should make for some exciting blogging. Did you know that, since no treaty was ever signed, the Koreas are still officially at war? (Am I a horrible daughter for telling you these things, Mom?)

Jess

It's Like A Sauna In Here

Several weeks ago Jess and I paid our first visit to a Korean sauna. The public bath and sauna house, or jjimjilbang, is alive and kicking here in Korea. Apart from the glowing red neon crucifix, the sauna's cartoonish soup bowl and four wavy rising steam lines is the most common advertising sign seen in Seoul.

Most of these spas cost around 7,000 won (7$) with the fancier ones being a bit more expensive and the seedier ones being a tad cheaper. Your entrance fee gives you access to several baths (ranging in temperature from mountain stream cold to lobster boiling hot), dry and wet saunas, workout equipment, massage chairs and a whole host of other facilities.

With the combined popularity and cultural perspective, why then, you may ask, did it take us so long to actually make a sojourn to the jjimjilbang? Public nakedness mostly. We both felt oddly modest about visiting the sauna for the first time with fellow co-workers. Naked with strangers, not a problem, you'll never see them again anyway. Naked with friends, heck, your exposure with them goes deeper than cloth layers. But, co-workers were a bit different, it was sort of an in-between land of not caring crossed with self-conscious embarassment. Does that make any sense? Ah well, our first visit quickly quelched any of those shy and self-effacing feelings.

Welcome to the Daeduck jjimjilbang. Upon entering and paying your fee you receive his and hers attire. Styling blue jumpers for men and dashing pink jumpers for women (children wear yellow, although we do not know at what age they move up to the blues and pinks). Then, it's off to your respective single sex locker rooms, baths and saunas.

This particular jjimjilbang contains eight different temperature baths, two steam saunas and one dry sauna. Men of all ages relax in the pools sharing conversation and laughter. There is a general sense of comfort and peacefulness moving from pool to pool (my favorite bath was the waterfall pool in which a huge plume of water comes crashing down upon your head). If the saunas do not soothe tired muscles then there are options for foot, face and full-body massages.

After soaking one can don the fancy blues or pinks and meet in the co-ed area. This large area between the two single sex saunas is a place for women and men to meet and show of their ultra sexy clothing. It contains a bar, restaurant, more saunas (see picture: our particular favorite was the ice room complete with a snowman), massage chairs (total awesomeness) and areas to sleep. Your 7,000 won entry fee is good for 24 hrs so many people will use the jjimjilbang as a place to spend the night (notice the tiny little sleeping hole cubbies behind Jess in the second picture). We were thinking that this is might be a cool (and cheap) form of housing the next time we decide to cruise around Korea on a multi-day trip.

Yup, the saunas will definitely be a mainstay during the long upcoming winter months. Now,the only thing left for us to decide is would it be too pathetically sad if we started bringing papers to grade to the jjimjilbang?

Sunday Evening Blues

It’s become lovely here in Korea.

The sun is out, the air is crisp, and the leaves are poised to change colors, but holding off for just a little while so that we can enjoy the anticipation. The only thing is, I’ve been working all day, so the perfect weather does nothing but sharpen my angst. It’s been a difficult day of self-pity, after I realized this morning that an erratic school schedule for the week (PSAT testing, computer training and a Friday inservice) was robbing me of 5 hours of planning time (roughly all I have). Of course, unless I’m ready to start playing movies and ignoring my classes (I’m not, at least not yet), those 5 hours have to come from somewhere, either from my Sunday or the weeknights I already spend grading. And every hour seems claimed to begin with. Is this the stage of adulthood when I start holding my breath and counting the days until retirement? It seems like it’s a little early for that.

This is nothing new. Teaching is too much work during the school year, but pays off with many vacations, including a long summer. We shouldn’t whine. I’ve been doing this for five years with a minimum of whining, so why start now? I guess it’s because we’re surrounded by newness that we feel compelled to absorb – language, culture, food, countryside – and work seems like an unfair obstacle to our process of adjustment. But then again, work paid for our plane tickets, and pays for our housing and our taxes, not to mention all of our expenses and travel extravagance, with some savings left over.

When I think about it that way, I know that despite the stress and a workload that sometimes seems unfair, we’re getting a very good deal. We just finalized our reservations for three weeks in lovely New Zealand at Christmas. I found the time last week to compare different dive shops in the Philippines so I could pick the best scuba certification course in February. And Sunday we hiked 20k or so in beautiful forest ridges just east of Seoul. This is a good life, and I am enjoying so much of it; I guess all the new experiences have begun to make me greedy.

Parent teacher conferences were a little intense, but generally positive. My overall assessment is that Korean parents are less crazy than their American counterparts – wait, let me narrow that down: affluent, suburban, Korean parents are slightly less crazy than affluent Catholic suburban parents in the U.S. They do seem to put too much pressure on their children: a friend told us that the father of one of her best 7th-grade math students said to her, “He’ll never get into MIT with these grades!” The student has a 94% in her class. What grades was he referring to? Also, parents of the handful of kids who are in real academic trouble are intensely embarrassed here. The father of one of my ‘F’ students had to get up and leave the table abruptly – I had the impression that he was about to cry.

Unlike some of the unhappier moments I can recall at Eastside Catholic conferences (my all-time favorite: “Spanish used to be our son’s favorite class. He wanted to major in it in college. But this year in your class, that all changed. Now he HATES Spanish!!”), I never felt that these parents blamed me for their children’s struggles in my classes. And some of the kids are definitely struggling, after last year’s “Fiesta & Siesta”-style Spanish teaching. On the contrary, I scored some odd but entertaining compliments. In the course of explaining why her daughter was enjoying Spanish II this year, one mother said, “Well, she really appreciates attractive people. And you’re good-looking, so she likes your class very much.” Another remarked in a confidential whisper as she left my table, “I just love your voice.” This may go without saying, but NO one loves my voice, and I can guarantee that in five years at Eastside, not a single kid went home and said to his or her mom, “Yeah, Spanish is great this year, because Ms Barga is just so good-looking." This must be a cultural thing, because a guy we met on the hiking trail yesterday also told Chris while nodding very vigorously, “Handsome face . . , you have very handsome face!” (See the photo of Chris and his admirer, the self-appointed but much-appreciated hiking guide we picked up along the way, to the left.) If this type of positive feedback keeps coming, we may have to stay here forever.

Well, after this and last weekend’s blog ramble, I’m starting to worry that the whole project is turning into a forum for some serious whining and very little substance on my part. I promise to turn the trend around and go back to photographing Chinese men in their underwear! I will also encourage Chris to finish his entry about Korean women and their Darth Vader visors. For those concerned about sun exposure, the Korean ladies have some fashionable tips. We are working on the subtle photography (here's a sneak preview, on the left) needed to accompany that exposé. Oh, the other photo -- Geoff, we took this one for you, hoping that the ruggedness of the K2 model would be visible in the photo (this really doesn't do him justice). Don't worry, along with The Redface and Kolon Sports, your company seems to have great a presence here. You all should have heard the fit the Korean hikers were throwing about us wearing sandals to hike! (The word for 'sandal' is apparently almost the same in all languages, from 'sandalia' in Spanish to 'sandal-sshi' in Korean.) This may be because, in order to hike up a gentle hill on a mild autumn day, the average Korean requires every article of gear and clothing from the Himalaya Extreme section of the REI Catalog.

Good night,
Jess

Google Earth and other assorted time-wasting

So, I’ve taken the time today not to plan my classes for the week, outline strategies for dealing with parents at our three solid afternoons (!!?!) of P-T conferences, or learn my Korean, but to investigate new methods of wasting time on the Internet. The tool of the day has been Google Earth, paired with Panoramio, a place you can store your photos so that they’ll be visible on Google Earth and another world photo map application. I spent at least an hour tonight uploading and meticulously posting some impressively uninspiring photos of our neighborhood and our apartment (admittedly, it would be hard to take an inspiring photo of our Woomi Apartment Tower, dear though it may be to us). When I made the mistake of clicking on “view popular photos on the world map” and realized that most people who waste their time in this fashion actually do so to post breathtaking photos of places people want to visit, I felt a little foolish, but only for a minute.

Just like the blog, Google Earth (which you should play with right now, if you haven’t already – in the U.S. you can even type in your address and immediately look at satellite photos of your home, but then again, since you have nice English maps of your area readily available, seeing your location from a regional bird’s-eye perspective may not thrill you quite the way it does us) exists and succeeds in part because it gives people the illusion of an instant audience. Hey, maybe it’s not even an illusion. I can’t tell you how excited I was when I found some mundane photos of places near our home here, just because they confirmed that I knew where I was on the (otherwise unlabelled) satellite map. Our new-ish suburbs are fairly uncharted, so maybe some other Suji newcomers can use my equally mundane documentation to get their bearings in the concrete-tower jungle we occupy.

This entry was supposed to go in another direction – I meant to talk about international school teaching in general, and lament what must be many teachers’ biggest and most paradoxical complaint: we’ve been provided with a delightful crowd of colleagues who, in many cases, share our tastes, habits, and ideas (not to mention our language and profession), so how the hell will we ever score a real Korean friend here? Our social needs are already taken care of, so how are we supposed to learn anything about Korea and Koreans beyond the superficial foods and basic vocab knowledge we’re solidifying now? I don’t think I have enough space or energy for that particular rant in this entry, so instead I’ll post a few random photos and go to bed.

On Sundays, Woomi Apartment sets up the weekly recycling party outside, with huge bins that appear some time in the morning (or later, depending on how much soju the security guards had last night) and attract all residents at some point in the day. I’m pleased to say that just about EVERYTHING is recyclable in this country. And apparently, if your neighbors notice that you’re throwing your recyclables in the trash, they can call the police on you!

We spent the afternoon at LotteMart, an enormous store with just about everything (except a section for un-hideous clothing or shoes for big western feet, unfortunately – they do have MGD samples, at least). Since I’m trying to eat healthier these days, I thought I’d try some of these miniature yogurt drinks that seem to garnish every health-food section in the grocery stores. I bought an 8-pack and the stuff tastes good enough. But some serious labor with my Korean dictionary once we got home resulted in some surprising news: this is a DIET FIBER YOGURT, and the name translates to – no joke – Happy Stool. I’m too ladylike to report on the actual effects of this product, but it may end up in the food waste section of the recycling party, along with all of my past experiments from the ever-popular “sweetened seafood” genre that one can never escape over here.

The National Geographic Photo of the Day is of New Zealand! It must be a sign. We’re still trying to scrape together a plan for the coveted most expensive Christmas flight of our lives . . .

Have a good week! I’m looking forward to some entertaining exposition about Korean parents after our upcoming conferences, so stay tuned –

Jess