Before I get down to business, you need to know that everything, everything, in this country can be ordered delivery (I already mentioned the scandalous Coffee Girls). But did you know you can get McDonald's delivery here in Korea? That's right, fast food delivery. And somehow, the Koreans manage to stay thin. I don't think we're ready for such things in America yet. But perhaps someday...
I love the T-shirts with English words on them in this country. They're proof that we English teachers are not doing our jobs. Why, you ask? Well, you'd think, between the T-shirt designer and the T-shirt wearer, ONE of the two parties would speak English. But they don't. The proof is pretty self-evident. Walking down the street, you are likely to encounter "Fangs are Fntastic," "Please Go-Go Strike 32," and, oh yes, "Boston, Massachubatts" (not a baseball shirt). And that's excluding all the F-bomb shirts worn by mothers and children..
I saw a good amount of these T-shirts the shopping district, where I encountered a other few interesting things. The first was a man who stood outside one of the New Balance stores. We referred to him as Stink Eye Guy. He is an overweight, sweaty, bald man with balance issues whose job, the best anyone can ascertain, is to stand outside the store and give people the "stink eye." Hence the name. Understand, he is not a guard, he is just there to give people dirty looks. No uniform, no weapon, not even a name tag. Yet he resides outside the store, like a troll under a bridge, lurking, waiting.
Also while in the open air markets, I sampled a Naju Pear. People, people, you must know: the western world got the pear wrong. The Naju pear is a beautiful thing. It's about the size of a baby's head and it's crisper, juicer, sweeter, and better shaped than our green reject pears. Plus you don't need to let it ripen. I also had a aloe drink, quite tasty, kind of like an energy drink with little aloe beads floating around in it. If it's not already in the States, mark my words, it soon will be.
As for the teaching aspect, I love teaching these kids, but I feel bad for them. Korean students go to school from 8:00 in the morning until 9:00 at night. They go to regular Korean school during the day (8:00 to 3:00) and then head out to places like where I work - hagwons, where they get drilled with English, Chinese, Math, and every other subject under the sun until, well, the sun goes down. They don't really get a lot of time to be kids and go home and play with their friends. Sounds torturous, but there is a plus side.
Korea is so unbelievably safe. The kids get so disciplined, by the time they're eighteen and going off to college, their whole rebellious, criminal, evil impulse nature has been squashed. And they stay working hard all throughout their lives. They don't have time to be criminals. This translates to strange phenomenon you would never see in America, like children walking alone on the city streets at ten at night. With crime, they definitely have their stuff figured out.
And speaking of discipline - it's official, I have found the most badass thing in Korea. I've taken up Kumdo. What's Kumdo, you ask? Well, for you non-Korean speakers, Kumdo is Korean sword fighting. Allow me to repeat that for effect:
Korean Sword Fighting.
I know, I know. Dan Foley is going to be a ninja. Let's be honest, who didn't see that coming? And no, this isn't some lame-ass fencing club.We wield bamboo swords, meditate, and then hack at each other until only champions and bruises remain. If you're interested, Google or Youtube "kumdo" and see the sheer awesomeness unfold.
The instructor doesn't really speak English, the only thing he really knows how to say is "CALM DOWN WHITEY!" but I seem to follow his instructions okay. One guy in the Kumdo gym actually speaks Spanish though, I can stumble my way around most questions by relying on memories from high school Spanish IV.
I've been thinking a lot about language since I've been here, this tool we use to communicate with one another. You know, I came to this country knowing little Korean. I'm going to start taking courses and I've been trying to learn little tidbits here and there (like "please", "thank you", "will you marry me," etc.) but more than anything, I've relied on bilingual people and a lot of pointing. I already mentioned how the woman at church helped me with the hymnal (now anyone sitting next to me helps) but it's not just exclusive to the Godly bunch. Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere people have bent over backwards to communicate with me in English. I am more than appreciative of it, I am humbled. But, the reason I bring this up, (here comes the philosophical part) is because it makes me sad.
Because this would never happen in America. Maybe on a small scale, certain kind people helping out immigrants here and there, but not on a country-wide scale. Total strangers will come and talk to me, welcome me, as I am a stranger in a strange land. And it can be scary. And they see that. And then I look at the way people treat immigrants here, the whole "speak English or get out" mentality. I understand it to a certain level, yes, people should make the effort to learn English if they live in this country. I'm not saying we all need to join hands and sing Kumbaya, I just wish, instead of condemning them - we were more willing to help the random foreigner in America. Just some food for thought.
But that's enough for today. I must return to my Kumdo training. Little piece of advice: next time you see me, I will be so highly trained that I will have the ability to kill a man just by looking at him. Not that I ever would, of course. Unless they deserved it.
I miss and love you all.
-Ninja Dan
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