Our friend Min Hwa invited us to come with her to a traditional Korean circus outside of Seoul. It's the same type of performance (and some of the same performers) as featured in the popular Korean movie: The King and the Clown (which you should be able to find with English subtitles if interested). Min Hwa is not from Seoul, but from the city of Busan in the South, so she's interested in the same kind of touristy stuff we are. We met her at a bus station and when we got there from the subway (a little later than expected) she had already bought our bus tickets for us. So we purchased a few snacks and hopped on the bus, no questions asked.
An hour and thirty minutes later, we show up at the bus station in Ansan. We get off the bus, and immediately Min Hwa looks upset and confused. She says were looking for a local bus number 15, but she doesn't see anything like it. We go inside and ask, she gets a more confused and upset look on her face. Then she tells us to wait outside while she gets more information. So we wait outside and try to enjoy the sunny autumn day and contemplate why Korea lacks a certain charm you usually find in other places while traveling.
Min Hwa takes forever, so we go back inside to find her, now looking very nervous and embarrassed. Turns out we took the bus to Ansan instead of Ansang, which are similar-sounding, but two totally different places. We do a little more wandering around, Min Hwa apologizes profusely for buying us the wrong tickets, and we try to make her feel better by telling her that it's okay; we like a good adventure (not only that, but it did make me feel better that even native speakers of Korean can have a hard time differentiating the sounds). We decide to carry on with our journey instead of taking the bus right back to Seoul, so we buy bus tickets to Ansang this time, accepting the fact that we'll be a little late for the performance.
Another two hours later, we arrive in Ansang, and the bus driver instructs us to find a taxi to where we're going to save time. So we do, the cab driver knows where it is, and takes us there. We're a little late, but easily find a comfortable place to sit among the crowd of mostly parents and children. The show is free, funded by the government in order to promote tourism in the small town. Min Hwa translates some of what the performers are saying to the crowd and we shiver in the cold, clapping along to keep warm while watching the performers jump and dance and twirl and bang instruments. At one point some gymnasts look for foreigners to pick on in the crowd, but luckily we were in the shadows so the guy didn't notice all the Korean kids pointing at us screaming "Yo-gi! Yo-gi!" (Over here! Over here!). Instead he found a skinny, nerdy Japanese guy who spoke no Korean to pick on. It was pretty funny.
When the show was over we called the cab driver to come pick us up and rode another bus for two hours back into Seoul. Then we had another hour on the subway to get back. It was an exhausting day even though we were sitting the whole time. I would like to go back sometime in the spring or summer, when the weather is warmer and we know to pay attention to the "g" sound at the end of Korean place names.
by Katie
26.10.07
Sports Day
Male Teachers vs. Third Grade (9th graders) boys. The mostly older, out of shape male teachers and I faced off against the much more fit and trained third grade boys soccer players. I dreaded it all day. Waiting to have to play soccer in front of the intently watching eyes of several hundred middle school students, whose eyes automatically affix themselves to my strange features and foreign ways.
I awkwardly walked onto the field, a sandy gravel courtyard between the three buildings of the school, and donned a bright green jersey. I was wearing a brand new pair of the cheapest running shoes I could find, which I purchased the night before in preparation for this event, and I'd changed out of my dress shirt, too. I was still wearing my baggy khakis, which have either gotten bigger on me since we arrived because of the lack of a dryer, or I've gotten smaller from all of the kimchi. (I have been told more than once that my face looks thinner.) Nevertheless, as the token white guy on the team, the other teachers had every intention of me looking nice out there, but of keeping the ball away from me.
It came to me twice. The first time was a tall lob from the other side of the field, and I cowered and nudged the ball with my upper arm as it fell from the sky, tried to kick it, and it was taken away by one of the third graders. They made me take the far side, and intended for me to run up close to the goal. But the ball never came my way. Against younger and more fit opponents, the fit male P.E. teachers were doing more than there fair share keeping up the defense.
The boys team quickly scored a goal. Play resumed. A couple of the male teachers on the opposite side of the field could get the ball close to the net. One of them passed, another shot. The goalie dove effortlessly to catch the ball. One of the male teachers ran up and kicked it out of his hands. Less than honorable, but accepted by the male teacher referee.
It was a tie game. A little back and forth, the boys were going easy on the teachers. I decided it was time to take off my jacket, look a little more serious. I handed it to a student, put my jersey back on and ran up to the opposing teams goal. The teachers were getting closer, but couldn't score. The boys weren't getting the ball to their side either. The male teachers had no intention of losing to their students.
Then it happened. The ball was coming down my side, there was a wide gap, no students were defending against me. Someone passed the ball, it came straight to me. I looked around, I was the farthest forward, there was no one to pass the ball to. I only had one choice, to shoot. I hesitated, and then dribbled the ball forward, shot and, goal!
High fives ensued, the students cheered. The male teachers were glowing with joy, and perhaps frustration that they themselves didn't score the goal. The game was ended immediately, to ensure the male teachers victory.
As I walked back to my office, in front of all the students, they erupted in cheers and called for high fives. I enjoyed a moment of celebrity, the closest I'll ever come to being a sports star.
I awkwardly walked onto the field, a sandy gravel courtyard between the three buildings of the school, and donned a bright green jersey. I was wearing a brand new pair of the cheapest running shoes I could find, which I purchased the night before in preparation for this event, and I'd changed out of my dress shirt, too. I was still wearing my baggy khakis, which have either gotten bigger on me since we arrived because of the lack of a dryer, or I've gotten smaller from all of the kimchi. (I have been told more than once that my face looks thinner.) Nevertheless, as the token white guy on the team, the other teachers had every intention of me looking nice out there, but of keeping the ball away from me.
It came to me twice. The first time was a tall lob from the other side of the field, and I cowered and nudged the ball with my upper arm as it fell from the sky, tried to kick it, and it was taken away by one of the third graders. They made me take the far side, and intended for me to run up close to the goal. But the ball never came my way. Against younger and more fit opponents, the fit male P.E. teachers were doing more than there fair share keeping up the defense.
The boys team quickly scored a goal. Play resumed. A couple of the male teachers on the opposite side of the field could get the ball close to the net. One of them passed, another shot. The goalie dove effortlessly to catch the ball. One of the male teachers ran up and kicked it out of his hands. Less than honorable, but accepted by the male teacher referee.
It was a tie game. A little back and forth, the boys were going easy on the teachers. I decided it was time to take off my jacket, look a little more serious. I handed it to a student, put my jersey back on and ran up to the opposing teams goal. The teachers were getting closer, but couldn't score. The boys weren't getting the ball to their side either. The male teachers had no intention of losing to their students.
Then it happened. The ball was coming down my side, there was a wide gap, no students were defending against me. Someone passed the ball, it came straight to me. I looked around, I was the farthest forward, there was no one to pass the ball to. I only had one choice, to shoot. I hesitated, and then dribbled the ball forward, shot and, goal!
High fives ensued, the students cheered. The male teachers were glowing with joy, and perhaps frustration that they themselves didn't score the goal. The game was ended immediately, to ensure the male teachers victory.
As I walked back to my office, in front of all the students, they erupted in cheers and called for high fives. I enjoyed a moment of celebrity, the closest I'll ever come to being a sports star.
24.10.07
Been A While / Two Months
Not much new to report. Things are getting routine and last week and this week are going by pretty fast. We were put through a torturous night of noraebang (Korean private-room Karaoke) with Katie's co-teachers last night. And this Friday I'm signed up to play soccer on the teachers team against the students team. I fear that they actually think I can play soccer well.
Oh, and today is the 24th, which means it's payday, which also means it's been officially two months! 1/6 of the way.
14.10.07
fireworks and relaxation
We have had a pretty relaxing and altogether chilled-out weekend. We did a lot of walking though. On Friday night, Richy and I went out to dinner at Bennigan's in Nowon, hoping to find a club sandwich. Instead we found what might possibly be the most unhealthy "sandwich" on the face of the planet: deep fried Monte Cristo with processed cheese. Even our combined eating powers couldn't finish it. That was definitely the most calories we've consumed in a meal since being in Korea. The salad bar was good though, and after dinner we serendipitously came across Nowon's International Street Performance Festival and watched an interesting magic show which had a plot much like that of a Korean soap opera.
The next day, Saturday, we met our new friend from the Netherlands, Nora, in Itaewon, so we could show her one of the few English language bookstores in Korea that actually sells used (and thus, affordable) books. She was a bit late though (after taking the wrong bus in the wrong direction) and so we spent sometime in a cafe, on the balcony, sipping drinks and people watching in the absolute most diverse area in all of Korea. It's quite interesting how you can tell the difference between those "Westerners" that are here with the military and those who are here as English teachers. After Nora showed up we spent some time in the book store and bought some books. Then with time to kill, we wandered around Itaewon a little more, parted ways with Nora, and moved toward Mapo Station to see about finding a place to observe the Seoul International Fireworks Festival. After walking several kilometers to find our way to the waterfront, Richy and I decided to split up so he could stake out a position in the rapidly filling riverside park and I could go find some picnic food and meet our friends Tom and Lindsey. Our tentative picnic plan was to get some cheese, baguettes, beverages, and a roasted chicken from a roadside vendor to make some sandwiches. Unfortunately Mapo seems not to be the neighborhood for chicken. After crisscrossing the area for more than an hour, I couldn't even find a fried chicken restaurant, whereas in the rest of the city you can usually find a roast chicken vendor every few blocks. On top of that, Tom and Lindsey were more than 30 minutes late, so I wandered back to find Richy only with rolls, cheese, beverages, and sore legs to show for my efforts. Eventually Tom and Lindsey found us, and although we ended up waiting more than three hours for the fireworks, the show was spectacular, the company was good and the wine Tom and Lindsey brought tasted great with the cheese and bread.
My favorite part was the finale when the fireworks literally filled the sky with gold glitter. It was also amazing how well the sound of the explosions carried over the water, literally shaking us with each burst. After watching each of the three fireworks shows (one for Japan, the US, and Korea), we joined a mass exodus of hundreds of thousands (possibly more than a million) Seoulites returning to various parts of the city. Getting on the subway at that point was out of the question, so we walked toward Tom and Lindsey's place near Sinchon and enjoyed a dinner of chicken and pickled radish at a little hole in the wall restaurant where the waitress oddly refused to give us more than two glasses of water for the four of us to share. All in all, it was quite an enjoyable weekend.
by Katie
The next day, Saturday, we met our new friend from the Netherlands, Nora, in Itaewon, so we could show her one of the few English language bookstores in Korea that actually sells used (and thus, affordable) books. She was a bit late though (after taking the wrong bus in the wrong direction) and so we spent sometime in a cafe, on the balcony, sipping drinks and people watching in the absolute most diverse area in all of Korea. It's quite interesting how you can tell the difference between those "Westerners" that are here with the military and those who are here as English teachers. After Nora showed up we spent some time in the book store and bought some books. Then with time to kill, we wandered around Itaewon a little more, parted ways with Nora, and moved toward Mapo Station to see about finding a place to observe the Seoul International Fireworks Festival. After walking several kilometers to find our way to the waterfront, Richy and I decided to split up so he could stake out a position in the rapidly filling riverside park and I could go find some picnic food and meet our friends Tom and Lindsey. Our tentative picnic plan was to get some cheese, baguettes, beverages, and a roasted chicken from a roadside vendor to make some sandwiches. Unfortunately Mapo seems not to be the neighborhood for chicken. After crisscrossing the area for more than an hour, I couldn't even find a fried chicken restaurant, whereas in the rest of the city you can usually find a roast chicken vendor every few blocks. On top of that, Tom and Lindsey were more than 30 minutes late, so I wandered back to find Richy only with rolls, cheese, beverages, and sore legs to show for my efforts. Eventually Tom and Lindsey found us, and although we ended up waiting more than three hours for the fireworks, the show was spectacular, the company was good and the wine Tom and Lindsey brought tasted great with the cheese and bread.
My favorite part was the finale when the fireworks literally filled the sky with gold glitter. It was also amazing how well the sound of the explosions carried over the water, literally shaking us with each burst. After watching each of the three fireworks shows (one for Japan, the US, and Korea), we joined a mass exodus of hundreds of thousands (possibly more than a million) Seoulites returning to various parts of the city. Getting on the subway at that point was out of the question, so we walked toward Tom and Lindsey's place near Sinchon and enjoyed a dinner of chicken and pickled radish at a little hole in the wall restaurant where the waitress oddly refused to give us more than two glasses of water for the four of us to share. All in all, it was quite an enjoyable weekend.
by Katie
9.10.07
Teachers Sports Day
Today my classes started at 8:40am. Normally they start at 9:00, and I get there at 8:30. Also, the classes were only 40 minutes long instead of the usual 45. All of this was so that classes could end at 2:05, so that by 2:30 teachers sports day could begin.
I was given the choice between teaching my afterschool class or participating in teachers sports day. It was my intention to do the afterschool class. It seemed like the path of least resistance, and the choice that my head teacher wanted me to choose. But my other main co-teacher helper woman suggested that I should do the sports activity to get on the good side of the other teachers at the school. That seemed like a good enough excuse for me to not have to teach the afterschool class which is 90 min. instead of 45 though I get paid for two overtime periods at 30,000 Won per period for 60,000 Won per afterschool class (hmm maybe I should have chosen the afterschool class), so I had them sign me up.
I was signed up for jump-rope and badminton. The jump rope competition was quick, and our team won. I was one of the two rope spinners. Most of my co-teachers were the jumpers. It was quite strange seeing them bobbing up and down in unison in front of me, especially with the knowledge that any mistake on my part would be taken quite seriously. Competition in Korea is intense. They take things very seriously. Anyway, I didn't count, but I think the five or six teachers collectively jumped more than 30 times, which was several more than the second place group. They were all quite pleased. I think I won a prize, but I didn't get it.
Next, badminton. I was assigned randomly to a science teacher (female) whom I had never met before. She, and everyone else, was decked out in their expensive workout clothes (Koreans take everything very seriously, remember, and this means if you are going to work out, you'd better spend a hundred dollars on a specially made workout shirt - it has been said that Koreans are the best dressed hikers in the world for instance - it's quite similar to the REI aesthetic in the northwest, except they take it very seriously). So I was in my Khakis and dress shirt. And I was wearing my school slippers. The surprised look of disappointment on the science teacher's face was unnecessarily conspicuous.
I won't bore you with the match point for point details. I think the final score was 21-10. We had the 10. She was frustrated but friendly. It begs mentioning that they must spend a lot of time playing badminton. I doubt that any comparably fit selection of American teachers could last even as many points as I did. They take everything very seriously here, remember.
-Richy.
I was given the choice between teaching my afterschool class or participating in teachers sports day. It was my intention to do the afterschool class. It seemed like the path of least resistance, and the choice that my head teacher wanted me to choose. But my other main co-teacher helper woman suggested that I should do the sports activity to get on the good side of the other teachers at the school. That seemed like a good enough excuse for me to not have to teach the afterschool class which is 90 min. instead of 45 though I get paid for two overtime periods at 30,000 Won per period for 60,000 Won per afterschool class (hmm maybe I should have chosen the afterschool class), so I had them sign me up.
I was signed up for jump-rope and badminton. The jump rope competition was quick, and our team won. I was one of the two rope spinners. Most of my co-teachers were the jumpers. It was quite strange seeing them bobbing up and down in unison in front of me, especially with the knowledge that any mistake on my part would be taken quite seriously. Competition in Korea is intense. They take things very seriously. Anyway, I didn't count, but I think the five or six teachers collectively jumped more than 30 times, which was several more than the second place group. They were all quite pleased. I think I won a prize, but I didn't get it.
Next, badminton. I was assigned randomly to a science teacher (female) whom I had never met before. She, and everyone else, was decked out in their expensive workout clothes (Koreans take everything very seriously, remember, and this means if you are going to work out, you'd better spend a hundred dollars on a specially made workout shirt - it has been said that Koreans are the best dressed hikers in the world for instance - it's quite similar to the REI aesthetic in the northwest, except they take it very seriously). So I was in my Khakis and dress shirt. And I was wearing my school slippers. The surprised look of disappointment on the science teacher's face was unnecessarily conspicuous.
I won't bore you with the match point for point details. I think the final score was 21-10. We had the 10. She was frustrated but friendly. It begs mentioning that they must spend a lot of time playing badminton. I doubt that any comparably fit selection of American teachers could last even as many points as I did. They take everything very seriously here, remember.
-Richy.
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