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.

School emails according to Google Translate

Korean and English are very, very different. And they're not only different in the obvious ways - writing system, vocabulary, basic sounds. They also have nearly opposite sentence structure and entirely distinct approaches to verb conjugation, the use of articles, and even which words need to be included in a sentence at all. This is on top of the divergent cultural approaches to linguistic expression. In short, Korean and English are, appropriately, about as different as East and West.

And that is why, despite its valiant efforts to accurately translate from Korean to English, Google Translate often spits out some of the most nonsensical and hilarious sentences I have ever seen. That said, it is still the easiest and most reliable method that I have for translating inter-office school emails, so I continue to use it. My daily Google translations have become more of an entertaining pastime than an actual information-gathering activity these days, so I thought I'd share with you some of the better snippets I've collected. Google translations are in italics; my thoughts/interpretations are added in plain text.

If you're a 10,005-year-old children, school staff refer to official documents, please contact your office

We don't take kindly to mummy-students in the classroom. They require more paperwork than normal students.

Concerts ever since the resurrection of the teachers.

Zombie musician teachers!!!!

I think that our school will make shine gloriously.

This sounds more like it should have been written in North Korea.

Check the status of clean and ask the map to go to class.
Uneducated maps will lead our students astray.

Student Ministry ovule is zero.
Um.......

To establish availability and expertise of our colleagues held hostage every time the kidney will be OK.
If you have healthy kidneys, your most expert and available colleagues will be abducted by terrorists.

Lee, Jin Sam's moans, the office ...
The reason
So do not you come in each subject's test range .....
Please help the tears to cease .....
Seriously, guys, get within those subjects' test ranges or this woman is never going to stop moaning.

Two won by modifying the objective Taxonomy send back riohni
Because subjective taxonomy is just unscientific.

For information contact, our Chairman of the teacher to contact you when the Nordic Council session to say how you want to rust.
I would like to rust slowly into a nice burnt-orange color that brings out my eye color.

Hard to do two days rest to start a new Monday ildeulgo many hair pushed hard for everyone is not working well right? There are no see pony up more jobs.
The hair pushing isn't keeping everyone busy enough. Better find more jobs to give them.

Clean the area around the ruins remain drawn out sludge schools are a lot of things to do.
Sludge schools are commonly found in sewers and at the bottoms of ponds.

Teachers need to please take advantage of you.
It might be wise for me to quit soon if this email has been translated correctly.

The creature in the night

‘Twas the first night of camping, when all throughout Jeju
Not a camper was stirring, not even for soju.
The tent poles were placed on the platform with care;
The sleeping bags, bug spray and scooter were there.

The waygooks were nestled all snug in their tent
While visions of beaches all through their dreams went.
And I in my hoodie and Paul in his wooly hat
Had just settled down on our take-a-rest mats.

When outside the tent there arose such a sound,
We nearly stopped breathing, hoping not to be found.
Shivering with cold, we clung to each other.
Ok, maybe with terror. What could be that creature?

The moon gave no light through the trees in the woods,
And the flashlight was dead; we’d no batteries with our goods.
And what was it that our straining ears did hear?
A barking loud and guttural, inspiring much fear.

With breaking of branches and crackling of leaves,
The creature made its way nearly under our eaves.
We two novice campers froze in our shelter
While conjuring images of demons and specters.

“Cait, what was that?” Paul barely breathed.
“Shhh! Don’t move!” I hissed, imagining claws unsheathed.

Near the front of the tent, then the side, then the back,
The Jeju Forest Monster was plotting its attack.

The creature circled and the braying continued.
Our muscles grew stiff, every tendon and sinew.
We slept not a wink on that frightful eve,
Listening for the creature, praying it would soon leave.

In the bright morning hours as the sun warmed our tent,
The creature finally went back to its den.

We laughed at ourselves as we packed up our campsite,
For things in the night aren’t so scary in daylight.

Careening through the mist down the winding mountain road,
We set our sights on Jungmun and a new camping abode.
With our super-hero poncho-capes billowing out behind,
Scooter anxiety replaced monster fear in my mind.

We set up our tent in the sand and the silt,
But down toward the water our campsite did tilt.
It turns out that sand’s not so soft after all,
And we awoke at the bottom of the tent in a ball.

With three hours of sleep as we got on our way,
And the weather bringing four seasons in one day,
We decided a love motel was the way to go,
So we packed up once more and went to Seogwipo.

Showered and fed, we toured the island:
Oranges and pineapple, and mushroom-like stone men,
A lava tube, a waterfall, the World Sex Museum;
The good and the bad tourist sites, we did see ‘em.

On the last day we headed north to the ferry
That would take us to Mokpo, then back to our city.
Paul’s patience endured throughout our vacation.
Though I was proud of myself, he was our salvation.

Upon our return, the internet I did search
For in the back of my brain, the Jeju Monster still lurked.
After hours on Google, I found what caused such great fear.
“We’re such pansies,” I told Paul, “We were afraid of a roe deer.”

Deskwarming and Microsoft Paint

Koreans are magnetically attracted to foreigners. Physically, not metaphorically.

This happens consistently.

So this is what death tastes like....

Because my last post on food garnered such interest, I am here to entertain you with yet another food-related adventure. Ladies and gentlemen, I tried 홍어 (hongeo) last night.

To be fair, I was unknowingly tricked into trying it. I had heard of this food-horror before, and had planned to do my very best to avoid it at all costs. However, Koreans are sneakier than I had imagined.

My head co-teacher and her husband decided that Paul and I needed to be exposed to the most traditional Korean meal possible before we leave their beloved country, and the other English teachers were brought along. We hopped in the car and rode to what is unquestionably the most beautiful restaurant I have yet seen in Korea. We had a traditionally decorated room to ourselves, floor-chairs with backs to them (hooray!), and our own hanbok-clad hostess who took very good care of us waygooks the entire night. In the midst of this beautifully presented, tasty meal of more traditional Korean dishes than I could count, there appeared a three-part dish of steamed pork, kimchi and what looked to be a variety of fairly standard raw fish. The hostess put a slice of the fish on top of a slice of pork with a piece of kimchi in between and placed the protein sandwich on my little dish. I was worried about fitting the whole thing into my mouth, but that should have been the last thing on my mind. As I chewed, I discovered that this fish, whatever variety it was, was riddled with a strange kind of cartilage-bone that, while not quite as gag-inducing as other bony fish, was nevertheless quite unpleasant. And then it hit me. The overpowering, throat-searing, nostril-tingling, eye-watering sensation that someone had slipped one of those pink urinal cakes into my food, only without the chemical-flowery smell that normally goes with it. It was like chewing on a bony bottle of old-school desk cleaner. The ammonia taste and smell was overpowering. I have never swallowed such an enormous lump of food in such a hurry. It’s a wonder it didn’t get stuck and scorch a hole in my esophagus. Probably the only thing that saved me was the large quantity of makgoelli that I immediately poured down my throat.

I do not pee. I am a freak.

홍 어, as it turns out, is fermented skate meat. Skates (along with rays and sharks) apparently don’t pee. No kidneys, no bladder. They just excrete their waste through their skin. That means that when you ferment skate (or ray, or shark) meat, you end up with the equivalent of fish soaked in concentrated urine (ammonia). Now, who in their right mind decides to willingly eat that a second time, let alone feed it to unsuspecting Westerners?

Other than that little side show, the meal was quite lovely. The food was enjoyable, the company was good, and the conversation flowed as best it could between parties who don’t share a native language (rice wine is a very nice conversational lubricant). I guess it had to come with some little unpleasant shock, or I might risk being lulled into a false sense of security.

I have another English teachers’ dinner on Thursday with my visiting school. I’m rather hoping for a proper raw fish dinner. I will gladly eat multiple plates full of wiggling live octopus before I ever touch 홍어 again.

WHOOSH!

One day, while I was sitting in my local 김밥천국 chowing down on some 돌솥 비빔밥 and wondering whether to go drinking at Speakeasy or Soul Train that evening, the Six Month Mark whizzed past me with barely an “안녕”. (The Six Month Mark is kind of rude.) In three days, I will have been in this country for 7 months, a fact I’m having difficulty getting my head around. I’m more than halfway through my stay here and I feel like I barely have my act together enough to navigate daily life like a semi-normal person. And now, with my head still spinning from the passing of month #6, I’m already being asked whether I will be leaving or renewing my contract. This is not a good question. In fact, I refuse to answer that question. I am going to sit here, inert, until the universe hands me the answer on a divine silver platter. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, EPIK.

In the mean time, school has begun again, and with it another round of Find the Open/Cracked Door/Window and CLOSE IT So It's 3 Degrees Above Freezing Rather Than Just 2. Although with spring slowly making its entrance, it is now frequently colder inside the school than it is outdoors. Much colder. Figure that one out. I suspect it has to do with buildings in Korea somehow being made entirely of poured concrete, which grips the cold like the hand of death and stingily holds onto it until summer arrives and then *poof!* suddenly we’re all sweltering again.

This semester has brought a few changes with it. I am now working at two schools instead of just one, like most people in EPIK. This means I spend three days at my main (old) school, two days at my visiting (new) school, and get paid an extra 100k won per month just to walk a bit farther two days a week. I’m teaching four more hours than I did last semester, but so far the only thing being negatively affected is my Facebook presence. I don’t really have much more lesson planning to do, which is good because I never did get any planning done over the break. I teach grades 2 and 3 at my main school and grades 1 and 3 at my visiting school, but I’m teaching one of the two grades at each school straight from the textbook. This is not my idea, mind you. I find the textbook material more than a little bit boring, but the regular English teachers are having a hard time getting through all of the material, so it falls to me to pick up the slack. Not only does this cut down on lesson planning, it also helps make up for the fact that, after two months off, I’ve forgotten how to teach (not that I really ever learned).

There are definitely some perks to being the new teacher again this semester, at least for two days of the week. More curious students staring at my eyes, screaming “I love you!” in the halls, telling me that I’m pretty and giving me candy (even though they’re not in any of my classes). With 6 months of teaching under my belt, I knew what pitfalls to watch out for in the first weeks, and I hope I’ve begun on a better foot with my visiting school students than I did with my main school students last semester. Only time will tell if I can hold it together or if this is just another honeymoon period. I have once again been blessed with good co-teachers at the new school, and the one co-teacher I didn’t like at my main school has moved on. And! The principal at my visiting school is not only a very warm and friendly woman, she is a woman who likes decent coffee and has a drip coffee pot in her office. We are friends. Coffee friends.

You can check out the photos for other stuff I’ve been up to recently, including attending my second soccer game ever (not nearly as exciting as baseball in this country). Intermediate Korean language classes begin in a couple of weeks (God help me), and I plan to fill my spring with many interesting activities so that I may entertain you with a recounting of them.

Until next time! (or until the Japan-centered nuclear holocaust reaches Korea)

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?