A New Term

It’s Sunday night, and tomorrow marks the start of the new spring term, my third here in Korea. At this moment, I’m feeling a little bittersweet. On the one hand, I’m excited for the new term to start. I’m going to be teaching four upper level iBT classes, plus four lower-level regular classes, which should hopefully be a nice mix. Also, I’ve finally worked my way into getting Saturdays and Sundays off, so I’m going to have my first real weekend since I’ve been in Korea. That should give me some occasions to do a lot more travelling than I’ve gotten to so far, and with the weather turning in the right direction, that’ll hopefully make for some good times.

At the same time, though, I’m going to be a little sad to see this past term go. In the last month or so, I felt like I had really begun to make a solid connection with the students—in just about all of my classes—so it’s tough to know that I’m going to lose all of that and have to start over. I think one thing I’ve learned about teaching is that having a good relationship with your kids can go a long way, and at least for me, that takes time to build. I’m hoping that I will at least get some of the students I had this past term in my new classes, so that should help some in the adjusting period.

Before I go, I’ll leave you with a couple of funny “I’m in Korea” moments that I had this week:

1) On Tuesday, I had my day off, and because it was a beautiful day (60 degrees and sunny) I decided to take advantage of it and go to the zoo that is about 10 minutes away from Pyeongchon on the subway. I had a nice time walking around the park (although there were a bit too many bondaegi stands—those silkworm snacks—for my taste) and checking out the pretty impressive variety of animals they had. At one point, a young girl, probably 15 or 16, came up to me and asked me to take a picture. I smiled and told her, “Sure,” assuming that she was asking me to take one of her and her friend who was standing nearby. I soon realized, when got up close to me and handed the camera to her friend, that what she actually wanted was to take a picture with me. I’d heard of this phenomenon before, but it was still a bit strange to be approached for a picture by a random person whose sole purpose in asking me was so she could show the picture to her friends later and say, “Look at me with this white guy!” I felt a bit like the gorillas in the cage behind me.

2) On Thursday afternoon, I left my apartment and hailed a cab on the street outside for the ride to work. As soon as I got in, the cab driver turned around, noticed I was white, and got this huge smile on his face. Before I could even tell him where to go, he asked, “Hagwonga?” He was right, but I wasn’t that impressed with his prediction abilities, given that just about all white people in town work on the same street of hagwons as I do. As he pulled away, he started asking me questions about who I was and where I was from. Then, he did perhaps the strangest thing a cabbie has ever done to me in my life: he popped open the glove compartment, pulled out two clementines, and handed one to me. At first, I wasn’t really sure what to do—the ride to school is really only about 5 minutes from my place—but after a moment I regained my composure, took the fruit from him, and thanked him for his generosity. I didn’t know if it’d be rude to eat it in the car, but when he started peeling his, I did the same and ate it right there in the back of the cab. When we got to school, I had the urge to give him a little extra money in appreciation for the snack, but since the concept of tipping doesn’t really exist in this country, I wasn’t going to have much luck even if I wanted to.

Quote of the Week

While I was sitting at my desk the other day grading some essays in one of my iBT 2 Reading and Writing classes, I came across a sentence that made me laugh. Literally. At this point, I had the strong urge to save the quote so I could show it to someone else in the future. This has happened a number of times in my various classes before, either with something a student wrote or said, but I've never actually followed up on it.

So here I am, presenting the quote of the week from a student Kelly (since that’s her fake English name, I figure I’m preserving her anonymity enough). In essay about whether it’s better to learn a foreign language at home or in a native-speaking country abroad, Kelly wrote:

"However, if they visit to U.S.A. or other English-using country, may be the students can't understand lots of word, because they didn’t learn slang, joke or shorten word such as BFF (Best Friend Forever)."

And who said American culture never taught anyone anything?! Yeah. I’ll leave it at that.

On the Road

So as I mentioned in my last post, last weekend was the Lunar New Year, which for me meant a real four day vacation from my job dancing in front of classrooms full of Korean children. To take advantage of that, I booked myself a roundtrip train ticket and three nights at a hostel in Busan, which is Korea’s second biggest city at around 3.5 million people, and is situated on the Southeastern coastal tip of the country, about as far as you can get from Seoul without getting in the water or passing through a communist dictatorship.

On Sunday morning, tired and terribly sore from hiking the day before, I took the subway to Seoul station on boarded the KTX bound southward. This is Korea’s version of the “bullet train,” and apparently goes as fast as 300 km/hr, so it can get you places in a hurry. The train was very clean and pretty comfortable (although I could have used a little more leg room), and I slept most of the way there. As it turned out, I probably could have gotten away without paying for tickets in either direction; no one ever asked me to look at my ticket, but the train was pretty packed so having a seat reserved was worth it.

The first place I headed was my hostel, Zen Backpackers, to drop off my bag and get my bearings for the city a bit. The place was a little difficult to find, but located in Seoyeon, a very busy neighborhood downtown. There, I met June, the innkeeper of what was basically a converted apartment, and resident spiritual guide and horoscope reader.

I’d actually made up my mind earlier in the day that the first place I would visit in Busan was going to be Hoesimcheong, the biggest jimjilbang (Korean spa) in all of Asia, so that’s where I spent Sunday afternoon/evening. It was my second experience at one of these places, the first being with Howie while he was here visiting in Seoul. That experience was so relaxing that when I read about this place in my guidebook, I knew I had to check it out.

Hoesimcheong is five stories tall and includes in it a huge same-sex spa area with about ten different heated pools, multiple sauna rooms, and even an outdoor pool that I checked out but didn’t spend much time in, on account of the significant shrinkage. There is also a full restaurant, snack bar, work out area, and lounge with big-screen televisions. While the experience involved seeing more naked Korean men than one should ever have to face in a lifetime, it was really, really relaxing, especially for my aching body.

On my way back to the hostel, I stopped and walked around Seoyeon, which by that point in the night was a pretty happening place. I was hungry, so decided to grab some dinner at one of the many food stalls on “food street,” and ended up settling on a couple plates of sundae, which is not ice cream in any form but rather beef intestines stuffed with rice. It might not sound good, but served with a large spoonful of samchang (bean paste sauce) it was really quite delicious.

On Monday, I started out the morning by visiting Beomeosa Temple, which according to the guidebook was the tourist attraction. Afterward, I took the subway to Haeundae Beach, which is the largest and most popular in the city. I’ve seen pictures of the place during the summer, when it gets jammed packed with beach umbrellas and sun-crazed Koreans, but on this day (with the temperate around 40° Fahrenheit) it was much less crowded. I took about an hour and just walked up and down the beach, enjoying the fresh air, the views of the water, and the feel of the sand under my shoes.

At a certain point while I was walking, I stopped to listen to a group of older Korean men who had set up on the boardwalk with a guitar, microphone and speaker, and were singing what seemed to be some Korean classics (based on the old women standing, swaying, and singing along with them in a group nearby). As I did this, one of the men motioned to me, holding out a small paper cup of soju. Not wanting to disrespect him and interested in having a little adventure, I graciously accepted the shot from the man and sat down next to him.

Over the next hour or so, I proceeded to have a long conversation with the man while we drank, and drank, and drank some more. In the end, we’d each downed about a bottle of soju a piece, and our conversation had degraded to smiles, hand gestures, and head nods. The guy was already fairly drunk when I sat down, and while he spoke some English, me going shot for shot with him didn’t particularly assist his linguistic capabilities. Nevertheless, we were able to get along really well, and we spoke about a wide range of topics, from life in America to his time in the Korean army to subjects that I’ll keep reserved for less polite company. I’d say overall I understood about 60% of what he said, with that number dipping as the soju bottles were emptied and tossed to the ground. Still, it was a really enjoyable experience, and I now can finally say that I got drunk with some real ajashis, something I’ve been meaning to do basically since I got here and saw my first Korean man stumbling home in his well-pressed suit.

Su and I made quite the pair, I’d say. We even ended up exchanging numbers, and he called me later that night and was planning to take me out until before his wife got home and apparently ruined the fun. Instead, I grabbed dinner and a beer with Osman, a really nice Greek guy I’d met at the hostel the day before.

On Tuesday, I again went out to get in my last day of touring in Busan. I visited Jagalchi Market, which is a huge, multi-story seafood market right on the water, apparently the biggest in all of Korea. I spent some time watching shoppers haggle for fish and old women skinning sea snakes, then wandered around Gukje, a huge outdoor market just opposite Jagalchi. I even bought a pair of pants, about the second article of clothing I’ve found here that fits me (and that’s only somewhat of an overstatement). Afterward, I walked to Yongdusan Park and took the elevator up into Busan Tower, at the top of which I got a pretty awesome birds-eye view of the whole city.

In the late afternoon, I grabbed a bus from that area to Taejongdae, which is a big park right on the edge of the ocean with an observatory where I got some beautiful pictures of the sun setting behind the rock cliffs above the water. For dinner, I returned to Jagalchi determined to have at least one seafood meal before I left the city. I found a restaurant near the main market, hailed the woman working there, pointed at the tank of eels outside, and then went in to take my seat. I ended up with a sizable feast of vegetables cooked with the eel in a hot sauce that had me sweating profusely from the forehead, reminiscent of my first days in the country.

Before going back to the hostel, I capped off the night with a visit to Gwangalli, another one of the city’s famous beaches. By that time in the night it had gotten pretty cold, but the feeling of the wind on my face, the sound of the waves, and the sight of the city’s nightscape in the distance was a perfect way to bring my vacation to a close.

And there I was, on the KTX early the next morning and back in the classroom by the afternoon. Overall, it was a fantastic long weekend, my first real significant trip in Korea. Busan was a beautiful city, big but with a small town feel. I figured that I’d use this vacation as a feeler for how well I would do travelling on my own, and I think I realized (on the advice of Lorie) that as long as your open to meeting new people and trying new things, travelling on your own can be a really unique, really rewarding experience.

A Walk in the Woods

For those of you keeping Asian score, this weekend marked the beginning of the Lunar New Year. Now that might not mean much to you, but in Korea, it’s a pretty big deal; actually, it’s the most important holiday of the year (or so I’ve been told by the natives). As such, we had classes cancelled from Saturday through Monday, an unprecedented amount of time off for Chungdahm standards. Adding in the fact that one of my regularly scheduled days off is Tuesday, I had a four day weekend on my hands. It’s hard for me to express what that meant to me, but suffice it to say that it’d been a while since I really felt off from work.

Over the week or so before the holiday began, people at work and some other friends in Seoul had been sending emails and facebook messages about organizing some kind of getaway. Unfortunately for us, though, we didn’t find out about our short vacation until a little while ago, and the Lunar New Year’s standing as the most celebrated holiday of the year also happens to make this weekend the busiest travel time of the year. Because the holiday is celebrated with family in people’s hometowns, I was told that the traffic out of Seoul would be absolutely terrible—think Thanksgiving on some kind of hardcore drug. Of course, this meant that all of the buses and trains out of the city on Saturday and returning on Monday were booked, so that basically ruled out local traveling for most of my friends.

But like I said, this weekend was the vacation time that I’d been waiting for, and I wasn’t about to let that slip away because other people couldn’t travel. My long weekend made traveling much more flexible for me, so on Thursday night, I said, “to hell with everyone else and their indecision- I’m getting out of this damn city!” and proceeded to book train tickets to Busan—Korea’s second largest city on the Southeast coast—for Sunday through Wednesday morning.

That still left all of Saturday to do something fun and not at all related to teaching English, so I made plans with some friends to head to Bukhansan National Park, which is actually technically still in Seoul-proper, and go hiking for the day.

I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before, but hiking is an extremely popular pastime in Korea, probably the most popular recreational activity. If your ever here and ride the subway for even a short period of time, you are bound to see some older men or women decked out in full hiking gear: boots, pants, jackets and hats made by Northface or some cheap knockoff off (and there are a lot of those, including some funny ones like “Redface”), plus backpacks and always hiking poles. I’ve always found it mildly entertaining to watch these people; the first time I saw them back in August, I assumed they were some intense backpackers or something, but then the frequency of sightings made me realize that it was standard operating procedure. Koreans tend to take everything they do seriously, especially when that comes to sporting paraphernalia (the swim instructors at my pool wear full wet suits while teaching).

When we arrived at the park on Saturday morning, we were of course surrounded by hoards of Koreans of all shapes and sizes—well, mostly short and stout—completely equipped for some intense hiking. Of course, us North Americans (wow, look how politically correct I've become) were all dressed in jeans and tennis shoes, expecting the hike to be a gentle walk in the park. As we started up the trail, passing hiking gear stores and small shops selling snacks, soju, and makgeoli (Korean rice wine), we started to realize that the layer of snow which had build up the night before was making for some slippery going.

We stopped to get our bearings, and noticed that just about all the Koreans passing by us were wearing metal spikes on their shoes to give them better traction in the snow. Of course, I again chalked this up to the Korean tendency to take everything overboard where equipment is concerned, but when Andrew decided to take the plunge and bought a set of the spikes for only 5,000 won, the rest of us decided that it would probably make for a worthwhile investment to get a pair for ourselves.

And boy were we glad we did that; this was no gentle walk in the park. Apparently, Koreans don’t really believe in switchbacks, so while the trail was only about 4 kilometers from base to summit, it was basically all straight up hill. The icy, snowy weather made the trail infinitely more treacherous, but we were taking our time either way- all of us were very winded almost the entire way up. The hike up Baugundae Peak (at 836 meters, the highest point in the park), while strenuous, was well worth it; all along the way, we weaved through snow-covered forest that glistened in the afternoon sunlight- it was really a beautiful trail.

Near the top, the path got progressively steeper, more slippery, and significantly scarier. I’m not one to back away from a challenge, but for most of the last kilometer or so, we were basically hoisting ourselves up the mountain by metal cables installed along the trail, and the steepness of the mountain coupled with the weather conditions made slipping or falling an extremely undesirable outcome.

Finally, though, we made it to the summit—which was an area only about 20 square feet cordoned off by more metal cables—and enjoyed a breathtaking view of the mountains around us and the city below us. The nervousness in our guts and the burning in our calves and quads from the way up were all worth it.

In the end, I made a couple of worthwhile conclusions from the experience. First of all, I realized that I was not giving Koreans enough credit for the intensity of their hiking prowess. All along the trail behind and in front of us were little kids and older ajashis and ajumas, some of whom I really couldn’t understand how they’d made it up the mountain in one peace. I have a newfound respect for Koreans, their hiking, and their tendency to spare no expense when dressing for the occasion. We certainly wouldn’t have made it up the mountain without those metal spikes, so I have to tip my cap to them in that respect. Being outside in the fresh air out of the city (or at least what felt like it was out of the city) made me remember how much I like that sort of thing and made me promise myself I would try to do more outdoor activities while I’m in this country. Koreans love hiking for a reason- there is plenty of opportunity, even within a day trip of a mega-city like Seoul.

I still need to recount my adventures in Busan, but I will save that for my next blog entry, when I have a little more time and a little more energy to do some more writing.