Sunday

The cerulean sky seems to be saying it's warm out, even though the last few weeks have been deceptively blue-skied yet freezing. The patio tables are empty. Koreans have a phobia of being cold. I leave the tea candle burning and carry my cup of Papua New Guinea hand drip. This coffee provides the only communication the Korean owner/barista and I have with each other. She proudly says "Papua New Guinea issoyo" with a smile and I understand and thank her with a nervous smile/bow. (In the Southern part of the US, the general way of acknowledging or thanking another human being - say, if a driver lets you cross in front of his car - is with a smile. Here, it's with a bow. There are tons of different levels of bows for different social occasions, but I've only worked on one, and I believe I've just about got it so my neck doesn't look like it's spasming when I'm trying to respectfully greet to a student's mom. In any case, when I'm talking to someone face-to-face, my Southern roots demand me to smile, so I do this strange jittery, giddy head bow, especially when I'm about to be served my favorite delightful cup of coffee.)

Cup in hand, I grab my phone and paperback copy (finally!) of George Orwell's BURMESE DAYS. She may be irritated I left the candle burning, but reduced intelligence is usually inferred when dealing through a language barrier. It's become a habit to conform. She says, "Anyonghikaseyo," as I head toward the door, so I smile as though about to speak and raise the white ceramic cup I'm carrying out to show her I'm just going to sit on the patio. She nods and looks uncomfortably disapproving at the thought of my sitting in the 50 degree weather.

Next door, there is a Chinese restaurant with a picture of the chef on the front sign, and a life-like picture of him ushering and 어서오세요ing ("welcome" - one of my favorite Korean words because of its sound) you into the actual restaurant door. At the wood slat table, I arrange my phone and earbuds, although there is no one talking out here so I don't use them, and my Papua New Guinea, getting colder by the second. The chef, THE chef, appears at the squid tank in front, wearing the same chef's coat and tall white hat. I wonder if he's Chinese. He reaches into the tank to check out a squid by picking it out carelessly by its tentacle, like a dog with her teeth. He seems dissatisfied, so he takes to washing a few panes with the sponge in his other bare hand, dusting algae into the water and stirring the clams from their rest. He's a suta chef, which means he makes all the noodles in his restaurant by hand, stretching long thin lines of dough out and then doubling them over again to continue the process. I hear suta makes you feel full longer, but I've never compared them to any other kind. On the front sign, and usually in the window below the sign, the chef can be seen making the noodles, pleased with his business. Finally, he decides on a squid, scoops it up with the red plastic basket that has been floating and carries it inside, as a trail of green water marks his way behind him.

By now, it's 3:45 and people have starting lining up at the croquette place (for the Southerners with us today, pretty much pistolettes) on the other end of the complex. Every day, there is a line out of this place at least 45 minutes before it opens, and it grows to about 100 people or more, before the magical moment at 4:30. When I first noticed this place, it was almost dead winter. Still, the line formed, huddled, drank tea. I thought I HAD to try this heavenly goodness that I was being separated from by the longest line I'd ever seen, save the cables cars at Seoraksan Mountain (hightest in Korea) and roller coasters at Six Flags. One day, at the coffee shop, I noticed the line forming and thought I'd try it. Daniel and I stood in the "queue" for well over an hour and finally got to see what the fuss was all about. We got some curry croquettes, some cream ones, and a few scones. (Now, you can get scones well after the line is gone. No one wants them. The croquettes are what it's ALL about.) So we got home, excitedly opened them and scarfed them down. It was the most disappointing meal of my life. I honestly think people go there just because there is a line and they think, as I did, that they're missing out on something breathtaking. Not the case. I still get scones whenever I have the chance, even though the price has gone up. Maybe the good stuff is finally catching on.

I consider the forming queue with a chuckle, deciding an hour is too long to wait for a scone, notice the increasingly cold wind flapping the pages of my book, and go inside to see if my candle is still burning.

"Big Bird" Stadium. I've been to two soccer games to watch the Suwon team (about 30 minutes from me) at this stadium. The team is the Blue Wings so the stadium is called the Big Bird, and you can see the shape of the outer structure is like wings. It's a really pretty, colorful stadium. The team is no good though. I cheered for Pohang, the opposing team, last time I went though because I went there on vacation this summer and had fun. Pohang won, too!

The real show at these games is the crowd. On one side of the stadium, the crowd goes completely blue and they never stop chanting. They have two huge flags with Che Guevara on them. I can't figure out why, but it's entertaining to think about.

Cambridge Class

I realize I'm becoming a mother who wants to show off her children to people who couldn't possibly care as much as I do, so I'll keep this brief. I took all of these the first week I met these kids. This is Cambridge class.

Nicholas again, at his finest. These kids go to the 'nurse teacher' for hangnails, invisible scratches, and mosquito bites. It's out of control. However, a kid in a different class did go to the doctor during school this week because he took an actual bite of his pencil because he was hungry.

Alice. She reminds me too much of every annoying know-it-all but overly sensitive quality I had as a seven year old.

Arthur, smartest kid I teach, at times.

He graced us with this gem. The other kids just wrote their new problem as "My pencil broke. I got a new one."

Josh Na.

Joshua, future K-pop star.

Elbin.

Solbie.

Victoria.

Emily.

to the farm

First field trip with Jukjeon.

Meet Nicholas, cool as a cucumber, ready for the farm.

Making ice cream.

Flattering, I know.

may: art and lanterns

I decided to look through the pictures I've taken over the last few months and post some of what I've done, seen, and taught for some of you who I unfortunately don't get to talk to regularly.

One of my last posts was about my changing school and being full of uncertainty about the idea, but it's been the best decision I've made here. I love my new kids infinitely more (but it's going to be so much harder to leave them!) and feel like I'm actually responsible for them and need to care for them in every way. The working environment is also much more comfortable and positive. My coworkers, especially the Korean co-teachers I share classes with are wonderful and are actually my friends now instead of just people I check in with to make sure I'm giving the right test every now and then.

This is my last day of class in Sunae at my first school. The two girls closest to me were my favorites. Let's focus on the one in the purple dress, Julia. She's the coolest little girl I've ever met. That always-in-the-front-row kind who is normally annoying, but I was lucky enough to see her through the four months that were her transition from kindergarten to elementary and teach her in both age groups. The kids can come to ECC for kindergarten from age 5-7 (4-6 Western age), for three years, if they start early enough. When they turn eight, they go to elementary school but most kids come back in the afternoons for classes at ECC. During this transition, they actually start looking different - most of them have gotten cell phones for graduation presents, some have finally gone to the eye doctor and gotten cooler glasses, new haircuts and clothes, and a whole new attitude. For some, that was a bad thing, but Julia only got better. I used to have to call students in the evening for five minutes so their parents could hear them speaking English, and one time I called Julia, asked what she was doing and she said, "Listening to instrumental music." She introduced me to the kayakum, which I guess is what you'd imagine Asia to sound like...(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WLQEBnaoIk&feature=related)

Anyway, this picture below is the present she gave me when I left. I'd like you to form your opinion of what it is before you go on.

I quite possibly will be on my own on this one, but when I looked at this and she said, "I made it for you." I immediately thought cookie with chocolate chips and candy on top! Wrong. It was clay. Which I didn't find out until part of it was in my mouth. Yes. That happened. Luckily it was soft and better able than Humpty Dumpty (yes, I sing this in my sleep) to be put back together again.

I took this the first week of May, walking to my new school in Jukjeon. Buddha's birthday is at the end of May - we got the day off of school actually - and there were lanterns all over the country to celebrate the whole month.

The next four pictures were from the last weekend of May, when I had that day off. I thought it would be festive to go to a temple. And so I did. This is my favorite temple, Wawoojeongsa. I came here in 2008 and this was my first visit back to it.

This is the view from my favorite spot to sit and read, write, think or have a picnic with a friend. It's the most peaceful place I've ever been, if there aren't kids running around knocking the rock stacks down at that moment!

More than Adrien Brody

I love live entertainment. Shows on the side of the road with open guitar cases, kids having a break dancing contest, teenagers singing Christmas songs in a subway station, or an actual concert by a world-famous pianist. All of these I have stumbled onto since I've been in Korea. I don't know if it's just finally being in a city, or it's Korea specific, but I love it either way.

On Christmas Day, I went to AK Plaza - a huge shopping center surrounding one of the most popular subway stations in Bundang with a big open plaza in the middle that's always decorated for the season or showcasing something. I met some friends for dinner and then called it an early one since it was Sunday night. As I walked through the plaza to get to the bus, I saw a small crowd formed around a bench so I stopped to look. It was a girl and some of her friends singing Christmas songs, and Maroon 5 staples, of course. It was one of the best moments I had had in Korea so far. (Honestly, I don't even remember if I'd already blogged about it, but I'm going for a theme here...). I stood there and listened for probably 30 minutes and then they just started singing the same songs over and over. It was wonderful.

Other times when I'm out with people in Seoul at night, I see street entertainment and always wish I wasn't headed somewhere to meet people so I could stay and watch. One time, a lot of teenagers in matching clothes were having what seemed to be a break dancing competition, and one little guy danced to Beyonce and it seemed like he was doing the actual dance she does. The guys were talking to the crowd inviting everyone to dance lessons, I think.. or maybe to watch them perform again the next night. He was a little flustered when he tried to speak English to us, so I'm not entirely sure what we were invited to. Nevertheless, it was a good show.

And for grand finale of shows so far... Today, I was out shopping by myself in AK Plaza, and I went through the plaza to get to the other side when I heard loud orchestra music and piano and saw a huge crowd all filming and taking pictures of whatever was going on in the center, but I couldn't see it at all. AK is an atrium so I went up to the second floor, where it was always really crowded but I thought I'd have a better chance, and after looking for 5 minutes to find a space where I could stand and see what was going on, it's this tattooed non-Korean guy playing a grand piano so vigorously. It was amazing. I stood for a while in awe of how good he was, just taking in how lucky I'd been to stumble onto this concert, before I looked around to see a sign of who he was, which was written in Korean, but I googled what I thought it said and found him.

Croatian pianist Maksim Mrvica. Look him up.

The picture's not that great, but you can see the crowd. After the show, he stood up, bowed, and walked off into one of the stores followed by the security guards, who always stand outside of these stores anyway. So I went out to look for an American Apparel that doesn't exist, and when I came back, he was in the middle again signing autographs. I looked for how to get in line, but as you can see in the picture, the stage was a circle, so I couldn't find where a line started. He went back inside before I would have made it to him anyway. Still an extremely cool experience.

I don't like titles

Unexpected things are happening. I mean, I didn't go into this year knowing what to expect or having any sort of plan. But Korea teaches you to forego all expectations because it's going to try its best to defy everything you know and understand.

I'm four and a half months into teaching at YBM's Nam-Bundang campus and I got asked this week to transfer schools. Luckily, to our sister school whose foreign teachers I'm already friends with. One of their workers, also a friend of mine, got a university job and is leaving soon and they need someone urgently who's already in YBM. Still, this was a surprise and will be a big change. I'm moving to a new apartment (to continue my life's trend of never living in the same place a whole year), working in a new school with different teachers that I've only known socially, and trading all my annoying and adorable children in for a new mystery batch. Feels like I just dumped all my Scrabble letters.

I realized tonight, in constantly thinking through every detail of this change, that most of what I'm actually trying to figure out is how to make myself come out ahead of everyone else. How can I get the best living arrangement? How can I have the easiest schedule? How can I make the most money?

So I decided tonight to stop. I came to Korea to have an adventure, and this wasn't part of the plan, but I want to embrace it, good or bad, as part of what I signed up for and be happy about it. Some parts of it are going to be awkward, uncomfortable, strange, confusing, and/or annoying to be sure. And so I've been trying to work out every kink in my mind before any of it actually happens - until one friend simply told me tonight, "Life's awkward sometimes."
So true. I don't have to try to circumvent it. So I'm embracing it all as part of the adventure that is Korea.