And now I proudly present to you another list.

It occurs to me that I should probably rename this blog “Making Lists in Korea”, except this one was made in the U.S.A., so I can’t. I mean, I would, as I accept, and even own, the fact that I am a compulsive list-maker. It helps me arrange my life and understanding into an (often artificial) sense of order. But that's not what this post is about.

I’ve been back in the States, for a much-needed break from Asian life, for a couple of weeks now. From what I’ve seen so far, the city of Washington, DC still exists (YAY!), as do Northeast Tennessee and the Eastern Shore of Maryland (only slightly smaller ‘Yay!’). America seems to be getting on just as I left it, with perhaps a somewhat more dire case of the Crazy Congress Critters. I’ve actually been rather surprised at how fluidly I’ve re-taken to Western life, but there are still certain snags that I’ve run into. Below, an accounting of the Korean habits that have apparently become deeply ingrained in my psyche, for better or for worse.

Things that are normal, acceptable or necessary in Korea but that get you nowhere (or get you strange looks) in the U.S. of A.:

Expressions and phrases:

• “Let’s get some fish water from the chicken lady.”
• “Turn on the floor.”
• “I’m going outside to get some bean fish.”
• “Put it in the food bucket.”
• “Have you checked the Cheon Won store?”
• “Take a rest.”
• Also, using various non-American words or phrases. Living in an international hodgepodge of an expat community, I’ve picked up many of my friends’ linguistic habits and use them interchangeably with my own. I never know what’s going to come out when I open my mouth these days. Unfortunately, it sounds a bit pretentious here at home.

Gestures and customs:

• Bowing to…well…anyone and everyone. The grocery store clerks, in particular, think I’m really weird when I bow as I leave.
• Smiling and/or waving at every foreigner I see. This has many problematic angles. For instance, I can’t possibly wave or smile at every single non-Asian person that I see on the street. Should I switch things up and start smiling and waving at everyone who looks like they might be Korean?
• Using two hands to do things that really only require one hand, such as exchanging money or pouring drinks. In Korea, it’s polite. Again, kind of pretentious and a bit odd in the U.S.
• Sorting trash into five different receptacles. This is unnecessary in the States, and often impossible. Even the hippy-est of families usually only have three: recyclable, not recyclable, and compost. I often find myself over-thinking the disposal of my waste here.
• Tooth brushing in public. Most Americans feel that this daily hygiene routine is best done in private, and usually only twice a day. However, it is done shamelessly and extremely frequently in Korea, to the point where Korean teachers will actually make a phone call with toothpaste and a toothbrush hanging out of their mouths, and children walk down the hall in little cliques, brushing away. Though I sometimes find myself beginning to walk out of the bathroom to go talk to someone mid-brushing, I am not unhappy to have a break from all the foamy mouths. Ick.
• Making major decisions with a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. In Korea, this game unquestionably and inarguably solves all disputes and brings fair resolution to difficult decisions. If you can win a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, you are clearly a winner in other areas of life and deserve to be treated as such (until you get beaten out next time). In America, well, it gets less respect than a coin toss. Also, yelling “가위 바위 보!” instead of “Rock, paper, scissors” doesn’t go over so well.

Even when I do things the “normal” American way, I find myself just a little more conscious of what I’m doing than I used to be. Much of it is, “Ah yes, this is how we do things in America.” But sometimes it’s, “Oops, wrong country.” At times, I even press my palms together in greeting as if I were in Thailand (despite that fact that I was only there for 10 days and that was 6 months ago). I’m sure I’ll be all confused again when I get back to Korea. Perhaps that’s the plight of living abroad for a while – interchangeable cultural hangovers.

I'm leaving on a jet plane.....

...but I do know when I'll be back again!

My exploratory committee has informed me that I have enough support to secure another contract with EPIK, and I have decided to embrace that opportunity. In order to win over the hearts and minds of the people, I will be home for a 3-week visit in August before coming back to start my new contract/finish out this school year. (Korea runs on a calendar school year, so summer break is really mid-year.) The Caity Teacher Non-Korean U.S. Tour will be making stops in and around Northeast Tennessee, Washington, DC and Maryland's eastern shore. Please see Facebook for dates and times of public appearances. Campaign donations will be accepted in the form of Mexican food, nice cheese and alcoholic beverages. (And of course, actual money. Plane tickets to the U.S. in August are no joke, y'all!)

Now, you might be thinking to yourself, "Why should I support this woman? She's really been letting me down when it comes to regular blog posts recently." Well, I have heard your voices and this is what I have to say: I've been really busy preparing myself to be the best Native Englishee Teacher, and the best person, that I can be. Here's what I've accomplished in the past month or so:

• I planned and executed what I firmly believe was a successful open class. Feedback was positive from all arenas: Office of Education representative, Korean teachers and other native teachers. Well, I'm kind of guessing that the feedback was positive from Korean teachers because, though they can all presumably speak English, they of course gave their feedback in Korean. For 15 minutes each, followed by a 2-sentence translation from my co-teacher. Not sure what got left out, but at this point I don't really care.
• I paid a diplomatic visit to the Demilitarized Zone and subsequently drafted a motion to have all South Korean breweries taken over by North Korean brewers. Daily life might generally suck for North Koreans, but at least they have decent beer to knock back after a hard day at their state-sponsored jobs. I believe that this privilege should be extended to all citizens of the Korean peninsula. Good, affordable beer is a basic human right, and Cass and Hite just don't cut it.
• I attended two Native Englishee Teacher retreats at Myeongsasimri Beach in Wando. We discussed superior teaching strategies, how to keep the peace within our borders, and ways to improve and expand our territories....sort of.
• I conducted historical research in the city of Gyeongju, learning about leadership from the Great Shilla Kings.
• I attended a summit of EPIK teachers in Boseong, inspected some green tea fields for their efficiency, and acted as a mediator in the disputes between local crabs and mudskippers.
• I signed my new contract and successfully navigated the bureaucracy of the Gwangju Immigration Office on my own. The strange thing is, it was significantly more difficult to get the required drug test done at the hospital than it was to navigate the red tape of visa renewal. In fact, the immigration office was a remarkably timely and not-unpleasant experience. Kudos, Korea.
• I kicked off the season of goodbye parties for those brave and honorable folks who have served their schools well and are now returning to their respective homes. They will be greatly missed.
• I attended an international celebration of American Independence Day, forging lasting bonds with representatives from England, Ireland, Canada and South Africa, and introducing them to the American wonders of deviled eggs and apple pie.
• I completed my second Korean language course, thus allowing me to awkwardly communicate with Koreans in a slightly more effective way. We shall see on Tuesday whether or not I will get official credit for this (i.e. whether or not I passed the damn final exam).

As you can see, I have been working diligently to become the best that I can be. I hope that you will be able to overlook my blogging delinquency, and throw your support behind me once again!

In a future post, I will explain in detail my positions on certain key issues related to English education in Korea. In the mean time, may God bless the pilots who will be flying me home.

International Women's Day

Today is International Women’s Day. I’d only vaguely known, and never really thought, about this day while living in the States, where Mother’s Day is the main women-related holiday.

For reference among my American readers, International Women’s Day is like a combination of Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day, when appreciation is expressed for women and our roles in society, and our social progress is celebrated. It began as a socialist holiday, but has lost its political meaning in many countries and is still celebrated today with little regard for its potentially controversial origins. Just goes to show there are some ideas that are good no matter who puts them forth. Different countries usually have different themes for each year. This year’s United Nations/global theme is “Women and men united to end violence against women and girls”. You can read U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon’s Women’s Day address here.

It’s interesting to hear such words coming from a Korean, particularly given the plight of women in Korea despite its status as a modernized country. (Yes, I know he was saying them as U.N. Secretary-General and not as a representative of Korean society. Bear with me.) While no country – including the U.S. – is a stranger to violence against women, I’d not come face to face with this fact before moving here. I have found, from conversations with foreigners and Koreans as well as personal observation, that domestic violence in Korea is disturbingly commonplace.

One Saturday afternoon, my usual brunch-making routine was interrupted by a couple yelling at each other in the hallway. I was annoyed, but didn’t think too much of it, as at that point the woman was certainly holding her own. However, once the couple went into their apartment at the end of the hall, the yelling turned to desperate screaming from the woman and absolute rage from the man. In a flash of righteous indignation, I threw on my coat, shoved on my shoes and stormed down the hallway to do something about it. About a foot from the door, my courage evaporated as I heard the woman pounding on the door, continuing to scream as though her life were in danger, trying to get out. Standing so close and yet so far away, I had never felt so helpless in my life. What exactly was I going to do? My three sentences of Korean were not going to help in this situation – there was no way I could make myself understood. I was just as likely to make the situation worse as to help, and I had absolutely no means of defense if the man’s anger encompassed me and my intrusion. So I stood in the hallway, momentarily paralyzed, trembling with my heart pounding in my ears, before running back into my own apartment to call the police. But the police don’t speak English, either. So I just stood there, listening, hoping the woman would make it through all right, and feeling like a coward and a traitor to womankind.

I still feel guilty for not pounding on the door anyway. Much can be communicated by tone of voice. I later spoke to one of my co-teachers about the situation, and she told me that next time I could call her and she would call the police for me. Fortunately there has been no “next time” (at least none that I’ve heard), but I still wonder whether the police would even do anything about it. Addressing domestic violence is a tricky thing, particularly in a society that is still very patriarchal and tolerant of violence in everyday life. Several of my friends here have told me they’ve heard similar rows from their neighbors, and no one seems to have come up with a good solution. I am told that there are services for women who are victims of domestic abuse, but they must have a reference from the police. That means something really bad has to happen that somehow gets the attention of a Korean-speaking neighbor or friend, and the abuser must almost literally be caught in the act.

Evidence of how normalized domestic violence is in Korea slapped me straight in the face during my winter camp. I was a bad teacher and didn’t fully preview all of the music videos I was showing during a lesson on how to discuss preferences and tastes in music. The first one, a K-pop video, featured a scene in which the singer is hit several times by her boyfriend. (You can watch the video and see how she gets her revenge here.) Before beginning the intended discussion, I asked the girls in the class what they should do if a man ever hit them. Now, these were bright students; that’s why they were in my camp. I know they understood the words of what I was asking. But the concept just didn’t compute.
“You should break up with him, and maybe call the police!” I told them.
Blank stares. Why would they do that? In Korea, being in a relationship is of utmost importance. What’re a few knocks to be endured once in a while?

I have mixed feelings about special laws and protections for women. Ideally, these would not be necessary, and in a way I feel that putting women in a special category permanently makes us more vulnerable in the eyes of society and negates the equality that the measures themselves are striving for. But I have now been about as close as I ever want to be with the fact that, (almost) no matter what, a man will always be stronger than me. What can I do to defend myself? And abuse is never just about the physical violence. The accompanying power-play of emotional entrapment makes it extremely difficult for women to get out of abusive situations. The strength of men over women also applies in the halls of power in business, politics and religion. While I would rather ignore it or laugh it off, women are still marginalized and kept out, to some extent, of many of the real positions and gatherings of power in my own beloved and supposedly forward-thinking, equal-rights touting city – the one that should be a shining beckon of true freedom and equality for all the world to see. Are these initiatives promoting the defense and uplifting of women necessary to get us over what seems to be an ever-rising mountain ahead of true equality? Will we ever see the other side? And if so, will we have a need for Women’s Day at all?

Beaches (but no Bette Midler)

It's been an exciting week. Lots of bus riding, lots of beaching and not much teaching. Since I'm quite good at sitting on the beach and taking in the scenery as I ride down the highway, but not so good at getting my students to shut up and learn, I feel it's been a good week. We all like what we're good at.

Last weekend I had my first camping experience (aside from a very vague memory of a church camping trip when I was fairly young, so that didn't count). Through the miracle that is Facebook, some bright and aspiring social organizer got together a group of about 50 EPIK and hagwon English teachers on Myeongsasipri beach in Wando, about a 2.5-hour bus ride from Gwangju. Any time after August 15th is officially the off-season in Korean minds, so we were treated to an empty beach despite the near-perfect weather. The water was warm but refreshing, the waves were ride-able but not too rough, and even the mosquitoes stayed mostly at bay. We cleaned out the 7-11 of all of their beer, soju and prepackaged kimbap, then spent the day playing beach soccer/volleyball/frisbee and finished off the night with a bonfire and roasted marshmallows. Just up from the beach is a camping area with elevated wooden platforms covered by canopies, complete with a light and a set of electrical outlets (public facilities here always amaze me). We pitched our tents there, though I suspect that the sand would have been a lot softer than those boards. Note for next time: beach camping should be done on the beach. Or something softer than wood.

We packed up and came back to a one-day work week preceding the Chuseok holiday, which included plenty of Mr. Bean for my classes and the new best comment (compliment?) from my students: "Your eyes! They are like horror movie! Scary!" Thanks, kids. Monday night brought another first for me: a proper game of darts at the bar. Apparently I've never known how to keep score correctly in a game of darts. I still don't know how, but at least I know what I was doing before was wrong. The right way is far more complicated. Thank goodness most dartboards in Korea, like everything else, are automated and keep score for you. [Editor’s note: I am aware that darts are not the most interesting thing I have written or will write about, but I was told I should include it in my blog. So there you have it.]

On Tuesday we departed for Busan with a slightly different group than originally planned, partly due to the weather forecast and partly due to women and the infatuation that we can sometimes cause. (We're nothing but trouble, I tell you. Always breaking up the group.) At any rate, five of us met at the U-Square bus terminal and four of us hopped on the 3-hour bus to Busan, where we arranged to meet up with several non-Gwangju (and therefore slightly less cool) friends from EPIK orientation. Over the course of three days wandering around the city, we ran into about half a dozen other friends from our orientation classes, which was always a lovely surprise, though it made actually getting from A to B somewhat slow and difficult since we stopped to talk to everyone we saw.

Busan, where I had originally requested placement, is the second largest city in Korea and the fifth largest port in the world. It is also home to the largest spa in Asia, if not the world, though of course it was closed for Chuseok when we tried to go. Instead I was treated to my own version of a day at the spa: a shower in a western-style bathroom, courtesy of Jess, who decided to get a decent hotel room rather than cram four people into a hostel room with a set of bunk beds and a couch like the rest of us. The weather was sunny and cool with a nice, light breeze. Except for Wednesday, which was a cold, wet, miserable mess, like someone threw a November day in DC into the middle of our vacation. My co-teachers had told me that it would be too cold to swim (post-August 15th, remember), and we feared they may have been right. Thank goodness things cleared up the very next day, as though the universe took pity on us and flipped the late summer/early fall switch back on. Many shops and restaurants were closed because of Chuseok, but that also meant far less foot traffic and crowds to negotiate. We mostly explored Seomyeon, where our hostel was, and the Haeundae beach area. In Seomyeon we were introduced to the Old Record, a bar decked out in 1960s-era pictures and posters of rock stars and naked women. The owner has amassed a mind-blowing collection of vinyl that he keeps spinning all night in the small, dimly lit room that smells of stale cigarette smoke and probably hasn’t been aired out since it was first built. Customers can also request just about any song or artist that exists, and he’ll find it online and play it for you. We spent the better part of 4 hours there on Wednesday evening, draining the keg and lounging on the greenish, crushed velvet couches and love seats that are so oddly common in Korean bars.



We also did plenty of shopping, not least because of the unexpectedly fall-like weather that has descended so quickly (sooo happy my winter clothing care package is on its way from home!). This was my first foray into shopping in Korea, since we just got paid this past Monday (yay!). I’ve found it to be a somewhat intimidating and frustrating experience. Salespeople tend to hover just over your shoulder, and no matter how carefully you replace that shoe in the display, they will readjust it. And Koreans are usually so nice and full of compliments that it sounds even worse by contrast when they say anything negative or critical. While wondering around the Busan Home Plus looking for beach towels, I spied a counter full of denim leggings carefully packaged in individual plastic bags. This was more interesting to me at the time than towels, so I stopped. The salesman behind the leggings took one look at me and motioned for me to move on, followed by a series of gestures expressing in no uncertain terms that my butt was too big to wear what he was selling. Perhaps I should be glad that this was the first time I've been called fat by a tiny Korean, but it was still a very blunt reminder that was driven home by my inability to find pants in anything close to my size when we were exploring the underground metro station shops the next day. Most Korean women have at least one hollow leg and can eat as much as they want without gaining so much as a centimeter around their midsections. I am not a Korean woman, and there are consequences to the fact that I have a healthy appreciation for food. This also means, however, that I am shaped like a proper woman rather than a young boy. So take that, leggings man! American men like my ass! I’m hoping the shopping trip that I have tentatively planned with some of my co-teachers will turn out a bit better.



No grade 2 classes this week, as they’re preparing for midterm exams. I am now heading home to rest and recover and plan lessons for the other two grades. And buy things for my home that were a post-paycheck priority. I am a nester; I will find a way to make my apartment look more homey than the white wallpapered box that it is right now.

DC in Korea

Well, the English teachers’ meeting that I was so worried about turned out to be more of a welcome dinner. We talked a bit about school, my teaching and the kids, but mostly it was light, fun conversation over seemingly endless plates of very tasty foods. There were two entire plates with nothing but different kinds of mushrooms! The Korean love for mushrooms is an affection after my own heart. All in all, it was a lovely time. And it made me appreciate even more what fantastic co-teachers I have. I knew as much – certainly in comparison with some of the stories of frustration and difficulty that some of my fellow teachers have had right off the bat – but I genuinely enjoy them as people, and we seem to get along fairly comfortably. I’m sure we’ll have our share of miscommunication and some frustrating situations down the road, but I’m equally sure we’ll get through it without too much difficulty. And I have a shopping date with the two younger women after pay day – yay! What better way to solidify a relationship than over a clothes wrack? Except perhaps over a bowl of some unknown fermented fruit-type Korean alcohol….but why not both??

However, in order to plan any sort of shopping outing, I need to get a reasonable budget lined up, and that includes cutting back on spending on things like coffee (*wince*). God help me, I just spent the approximate equivalent of $18 on a tub of Folgers. There is better coffee to be had, but it comes in tiny packets that only last about a week, and I’m sure the cost would add up to waaaay more than what I just paid for that Folgers. I’m so glad I found that coffee shop up the street: Kenya Coffee, Enjoy our espresso coffee, Sweet-Smelling like devils temptation and hot like hell fire. I’m serious – that’s what’s on their napkins. But that adds up, too. Hopefully the Folgers will last.

On the same grocery run that landed me the Folgers, I also bought pine tree flavored toothpaste. It makes my mouth taste like Christmas – even after I’ve rinsed with Listerine. An odd sensation, but kind of fun.

This morning I watched coverage of the DC mayoral race – including the speculation of whether Schools Chancelor Michelle Rhee will stay or go – on the news. Yes, the Korean news. It appears that DC’s local news is not only national news, it’s international news. Now if only I could find it in English without having to track down an internet connection!

In another odd DC tie-in, I got my first electric bill today. The electric company here is called KEPCO. Here’s hoping it’s a far cry from PEPCO when it comes to actual operating practices.

Small victories

I begin this post with much good news and rejoicing:

1. I have hot water! Woohoo! After more than a week of bracing myself for a cold shower every morning, I no longer face the somewhat ineffectual task of shaving my legs while I have goose bumps. I'm told the gas company didn't want to turn on the gas because they think my landlord is a troublemaker (at least that's how my co-teacher put it to me). I have no idea what changed their minds, but I'm not arguing.
2. On Saturday, I successfully rode not only the bus, but also the subway, to my destination with no problems whatsoever. Score one for me! This may not sound like a big deal, but considering the fact that (a) I am directionally challenged, (b) I have not been able to get my hands on a bus or subway map, in English or Korean, (c) bus signs in English are few and far between, and (d) if I get lost, I may or may not spend hours trying to find someone who can help me get back home....it's a big effing deal. I'm so proud.

The subway is quite nice. I thought perhaps we Washingtonians rag on Metro too much, but the Gwangju subway sets a shining example to be aspired to. It's fairly new and there's only one line, but it's well-lit, well labeled and freakishly clean. My only complaint is that the automated voice doesn't seem to know her left from her right when instructing people in English on which side the doors will be opening. There are boutique shops, food shops, bank branches and plenty of other shops I'm sure I haven't seen yet. Oooh. Aaaah. I wish I lived closer to the subway.

My bus and subway journey on Saturday began an evening of ups and downs, including:
Up: Arriving at my destination unflapped and on time.
Down: Screwing up the bus thing again this afternoon, despite my earlier success (Yes, that's a jump in the timeline, but this isn't about chronology, it's about ups & downs). 
Up: Seeing a "Mexican" restaurant on the way to our movie night at someone's apartment.
Down: Discovering that "Mexican" just meant some sort of fried chicken. The Americans were crestfallen. The Brits didn't care.
Up: Purchasing and naming 6 Russian hamsters that are now living with my friend (Twinkles, Fat Dave, Hector, Speedy Gonzalez, Haile Selassie and Mr. Kim).
Down: Oh, who am I kidding? There's no down for this one. Hamsters are CUUUUTE.

Another teacher and I were discussing this afternoon that it doesn't quite seem like we're living in the real world. I mentioned before that it feels somewhat like being back in college again, but that doesn't quite capture it. In the land of limbo, where we will never quite fit in, you can purchase Russian hamsters for 3,000 won (a little less than $3) each and the cutest, fuzziest bunnies you've ever seen for just 6,000 won. As foreigners, we get to make our own mix of social rules -- a cocktail of British, American, Irish, Canadian, South African and South Korean -- while taking liberties with the surrounding culture by playing the foreigner card. In addition, logic never really made its debut in Korea, so the rules that we play by in the west don't always apply here. Gravity, yes. Aristotelian logic? I think not. Aristotle didn't make it this far. So it's important never to say, "That doesn't make sense." It will never make sense. Just accept it and move on. This alone will keep you sane. However, I do like that Koreans put much more stock in emotions where Westerners tend to ignore them and then suffer the consequences in the long run. I'm sure there's a place where a perfect balance of both logic and emotion are used in decision-making, but I have yet to find that happy little spot.  Humans probably don't live there, anyway.

It's also odd to be living in what functionally amounts to a community of about 200 people, give or take.  Perhaps more if you add in the hagwon teachers, but that's the approximate number of us EPIKers. I feel like I've already met a huge portion of the group of people who will comprise my entire social life for the next year. DC is small town, but not this small. If I screw up with these people, I am socially screwed. At least until August 2011. It's a sobering and somewhat worrisome thought.

Realization of the weekend: All of my students' praise is having an unfortunate effect on me. Now, when a nice young man tells me that I’m very pretty, my immediate reaction is, “You sound like my students.” Picturing overeager Korean ‘tweens every time I’m paid a compliment is surely is not going to be good for my dating life. At least most of the people who have said/will say that to me (outside of the classroom and in English) probably have their own students and understand.

Tomorrow begins my first day of real lessons. No more fun and easy PowerPoint about me, my family and my city.  Lesson planning takes me forever right now, to say nothing of whether the material I come up with is any good. I surely hope I can knock things out a lot faster in the near future.

It's official.

Let Friday, July 16, 2010 go down in history as the day that I finally got my Notice of Appointment.  Well, I don't technically have it yet, but it's on its way to the recruiters' office in Canada and will then find its way to my hot little hands, sticky with the heat and humidity of my last DC summer (for a year, anyway).  Thank God that's done.

*****Friday, July 16, 2010*****

Things always go down in history surrounded by asterisks and colored in hot pink.

Shortly after receiving this good news of great joy, I went through the slightly awkward right of passage that is resigning from my job for the first time.  In the past, I've ended my job because (a) it was an internship and it was supposed to end at a certain date, or (b) I got laid off.  We'll address that second one at some point in the future (maybe).  But I'd never actually resigned from a job before.  I was talking with a friend last week and we agreed that people tend to have this instinct for when one of their valued employees is looking to leave.  Bosses and coworkers then begin telling you how great it is to work with you, how much you're appreciated, how they don't know what they'd do without you, etc., etc.  This in turn creates a feeling of dread for the person who will, in fact, very soon, quit his/her job.

So after hearing my Boss tell me how much he appreciates me and mention his abandonment issues more than once, and involuntarily creating my own mental picture of my Coworker having a heart attack/aneurysm/exploding all over the walls when I tell her of my imminent departure, I was pretty freaked out about actually quitting.

To my great surprise and relief, the Boss was very supportive when we had our "I'm leaving you" talk.  He was very pastoral, which I'm sure has something to do with him being a priest, and even the Associate Boss was great about it.  Add to their credit that I really am leaving at a superbly shitty time: only two weeks remain before Boss goes on vacation for a month and Associate Boss runs the place without one of her key staff or with a brand new person on board trying to learn the ropes; I won't be around to train said person when (s)he comes on board; the parish is gearing up for a big capital campaign in the fall; a brand new website is being launched and people who usually do my kind of job are rarely savvy in this area....you get the picture.  We'll see if this general easy-going-ness continues through my last two weeks of work, but I feel blessed to have at least made it through that first Dreaded Conversation in one piece with no tears and no aneurysm of my own.  Speaking of, the Coworker(s) have yet to be told of my departure.  That will happen at staff meeting on Tuesday.  Pray for me (us), if you are so inclined.  Thanks.

Now all I have to do is pass my TEFL exam.  In a week.  Or I don't have the job after all.  Which is now what's causing me no end of strife and consternation.  I'm trying to stay positive and confident - after all, it's an open-book/note test.  How bad can it be?  It will, I'm sure, include sections that require detailed, well-thought-out answers that I, having only ever read about the art that is teaching, will have to hope I can produce with some degree of realism despite my lack of any real experience.  But never fear!  I am a communicator/PR professional, and BS is what I do for a living.  It's also quite handy in navigating the intricacies of Washington, DC, from securing funding for a cause to sneaking into the Capitol/House/Senate office buildings to do something that the Powers That Be don't really want you to do.  Look like you belong there and act like you know what you're doing.  And keep talking until they believe you.  Isn't that how most people pass the tests they have to take?

I've got to get started at some point.

My English teaching job with EPIK is 99.9% confirmed.  I'm just waiting for that all-important Notice of Appointment so I can quit my job and take care of the bajillion other little (and not-so-little) things that must be taken care of before I leave the country (preferably before I leave DC).  My recruiter, Footprints (who have been amazing, by the way, those crazy Canadians), says there's a package of appointment notices en route to their offices.  Hopefully mine is among the many, and I can get started sooner rather than later.

Something you should know about me: I'm a planner.  I like to plan ahead.  I like to have goals and a map of how I'll reach those goals.  In the latter segment of my life, I've been trying to balance this with a belief in Spirit and the Universe having its own ways, which is pretty tricky.  How do you both plan and "make it happen" while still being open to opportunities that are put in front of you, and back off of plans you were making when the Spirit says, "Um, that's so not gonna happen. Sorry."  So what I currently call flexibility is really more of me making Plan A along with Backup Plans B, C and D.  I'm ok as long as I don't have to resort to Plan E or some variation thereon, at which point I freak out.  But I'm really and truly working on it.  And my entire Korea teaching application process has been a powerful learning tool in this area.

There have been many last-minute scrambles and readjustments of the mental Plan (and Backup Plans) throughout the entire application process.  How does this happen to a Planner who gets started early and researches all the details she can possibly know ahead of time?  Suffice it to say that I had talked a dear friend from high school into going with me who is (a) not as much of a Planner as I am, (b) does not have the same understanding of "make it happen" as I do, and (c) doesn't have the ingrained ability to navigate bureaucracy as I have (something you learn in order to survive five years in the Bureaucracy Capitol of America).  We had our applications tied together so we could go have a grand adventure AND be partners in crime, but then we ended up with somewhat different timing when it came to acquiring and submitting our documents to Footprints, and, well.....yeah.  Our applications aren't linked any more.  God love him, he did try.  My mother was talking of mailing a cream pie to him but couldn't figure out how to get it to launch from the box into his face, so she gave up.  For my part, I'm bummed, but I'm not mad at him.  This whole Grand Adventure of our Late 20s was my idea anyway.  Live and learn.

So, why the name of the blog, you ask?  I'm told that the Koreans are completely uninterested in dairy, particularly cheese (and Mexican food, but that's secondary to the cheese).  And dairy is an inordinately large part of my diet, particularly cheese and yogurt.  Now, I can make yogurt myself; I'll just throw some packets of culture into my suitcase.  But cheese?  I think not.  So I will most likely be spending a proportionate [amount of time:searching for cheese] as [cheese has been:my diet].  And I'll report every delectable (or disgusting) detail back to you, the few readers that I might have, and hopefully I'll be able to throw in some humor/interesting situations/life lessons with it.

Oh, and the kitty needs a new home.  Neither of us is happy about it, but there's nothing much we can do about it.  The Koreans aren't keen on importing pets, which I can understand.  Besides, whether it'd be her or a baggage handler, someone would likely die during Sabina's transit to the other side of the world.  I certainly don't want her to die just so I can spend a year abroad!  So, who wants a charmingly fat, furry, talkative cat??  I'm leaving DC at the end of this month....