Dog soup

New pictures!!! Clicky clicky, on the right. I've added some of my classroom and some from dinner tonight. Just to make you jealous.

Well, it's happened. After waffling back and forth on whether or not I could bring myself to eat dog meat if it was offered, we had dog soup for lunch yesterday. Of course my co-teachers only told me what it was after I had already taken some, so I had to eat it. It tasted just like any other chunky soup in the cafeteria, so I should probably reserve judgment until after I’ve eaten it somewhere else, if I ever do. Whew, glad that's at least behind me.

This is not the dog soup. But it was tasty!

But wait! Is it? While I was out with a group yesterday evening, I filled them in on my newest culinary adventures (over free mashed potatoes and beer, natch). The group, which included a native Korean, insisted that the soup couldn’t possibly have contained dog, since eating dog is now illegal and dog meat is expensive these days. I have absolutely no reason to distrust either party in this argument. Perhaps my co-teachers were just testing me to see how far I would go to avoid insulting them? I sure hope I passed that one.

I ought to be on the happy list at school, one way or the other. I may not be a stellar teacher, but I do formal written lesson plans! Apparently this is a big deal, and my co-teachers think I'm working too hard. Thing is, as inexperienced as I am, that's the only way I can effectively think through an entire lesson. Also, when the principal came around at our teachers' dinner on Tuesday and demanded "One shot!" of me (a Korean version of "bottoms up"), I did exactly that. Gone was my beer, and smiley was the principal. Score?

I also learned last night, post-beer and mashed potatoes, some very useful Korean phrases. I believe these will come in handy during the cleaning period when I have to supervise many pre-teen boys who are hell-bent on hanging out in my classroom, making noise and generally doing anything but cleaning. The main problem with this scenario is that when I yell at them, they have only the slightest clue what I'm saying. But there is a solution.

I now present to you the English Teacher in Korea's Classroom Survival Vocabulary (Please excuse the poor Romanization. I'm working with what I've got here.):
Haji-ma! Don't do that!
Manjiji-ma! Don't touch!
Crokay-ma haji-ma! Don't say that! (particularly useful for those students fond of using the f-word in class)
Idiwa! Come here!
Ya! Hey!

And to close, my life these days, summed up in pictures: http://roketship.com/
I actually got the small face compliment today. (See, Mom, not everyone thinks my nose is big!)

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.

Shingwang Middle School

In the mornings, I walk about 5 minutes up to my school in high heels, just like everyone else.  But I now know the reason why Korean women can stand to walk around the streets in their heels all day: they don't wear them at work!  Just inside the front door of my school (as in Korean homes, most restaurants and some offices) is a large cabinet of shoe cubbies.  I pop my heels into the cubby with my name on it and put on a pair of nice, comfy sandals, which they call slippers here.  My first day, I just wore the slippers with bare feet, but I noticed that everyone else was wearing tiny socks or stockings (hence the abundance of cute sockies that I see in stores everywhere).  That night I went to the Home Plus and picked up my own pair.  So now I have Korean feet, if nothing else about me fits in!

Grades are divided by school, rather than in consecutive grade levels as in the US.  Thus, I teach middle school grades 1-3 (elementary school includes grades 1-6 and high school has 1-3).  My students are anywhere from 11 to 14 years old, as Koreans count age differently than we do in the West.  They basically count the time that you are in the womb as one year, so you are one year old when you are born.  Then you add a year to your age not on your birthday, but on each New Year's day.  I would be turning 30 this New Year's in Korean age, so I will be sticking with my western age, thankyouverymuch.

I have a desk and a computer in the grade 2 teachers office, which all of the grade 2 teachers share.  I'm not sure if the male teachers have a different office, or if all of the grade 2 teachers are women, but it's all women right now.  The office also serves as a break room for students between classes, where they can get a drink of water from communal cups, wash their hands, and bother their new English teacher.  They peer at my computer screen to see what I'm working on, not that they can understand any of it. (Though to their credit, they have a far better idea of what's going on with my Korean operating system than I do. Once again, thank God for pictures where they appear.)  Some of them come to me several times a day with new questions, to brag about something ("I've been to the US," "I'm a fighting champion!" or "I am number one in the class!"), or to tell me something (usually uncomplimentary) about one of their friends ("She's a pig!" "He's crazy!").  This is far better than when they try to brag to me as I walk by to check on them in the middle of class, when they're supposed to be doing group work or something of the like.  The compliment of the day today seems to be "pretty eyes!"  Koreans all have brown eyes, and I can just imagine them talking to each other in the hallways, telling each other to go check out the new English teacher with the freaky green eyes.  I haven't had the question yet myself, but other native English teachers are often asked (by elementary students the most) whether they see green or blue because of their eye color.

With the exception of classes that require a special classroom, such as music or P.E., students stay in one room and the teachers rotate around.  I tried this, but since my Mac doesn't hook up to the projectors to allow me to use PowerPoint (I need a special adapter and I'm not even going to try to get that question translated at the electronics store), I have adopted the English Lab as my own classroom.  It's a very nice room, with a retractable screen, a desktop computer, lots of pictures and English quotations, a huge white board, and plenty of English-language books and DVDs.  The back of the class has a huge English map and a couple of couches.  The room is called the "English Only Zone", though that doesn't seem to keep the students from speaking Korean in my classes anyway.

Lunch seems to be free.  At least, there's nowhere to pay for it in the cafeteria and no one has told me about setting up an account or anything yet, but perhaps that's coming.  Lunches always include a healthy mix of fruit & veggies with some sort of meat and rice. I always eat with the other teachers, as communal meals are very important for building relationships.  I need to work on making conversation more, as so far I've been spending most of my lunch listening to incomprehensible conversations going on around me and trying my best not to flip some sort of saucy food into my lap with my chopsticks.  One of my co-teachers has taken to handing me a napkin (or a facial tissue, which is what they use here) as soon as I sit down.  I guess it didn't take me long to make a messy impression.  Everyone brushes their teeth after lunch, which is a nice habit, but it's kind of funny to see the kids walking down the halls with toothbrushes hanging out of their mouths.  They try to say hello to me as I pass anyway, which comes out somewhat garbled with toothpaste.  Most days after eating lunch, I am invited to someone's classroom for (instant and overly sweet) coffee and some halting English conversation.

I wonder if I'll be so popular once the novelty wears off.....

Too much to write about. So I didn't until now.

Sorry guys, I know I'm delinquent.  Too much soju and crap beer + dancing to the wee hours of the morning several nights in a row + rain every day keeping me from taking pics of the neighborhood + just waaaayyy too many experiences to write about = my head imploding and me not writing about any of it.  So I'll try my best to rectify that with apologies in advance for skimming over some details.  I'll come back to them later (unless I don't).

I moved into the apartment on Thursday afternoon. There are pics on the Picasa page for your viewing pleasure (you can now just click on the gadget to the right instead of digging for the link).  It's much bigger than I had anticipated -- more than one room! -- and kind of cute.  I mean seriously, my tiny refrigerator has flowers on it. Everything in Korea is the decked-out version of what we have back home, though unfortunately it's usually covered in neon-colored flowers and sparkles and then they slap a big bow on it.  And everything plays a song when receiving commands -- the a/c, the TV, the washing machine, the key pad lock on the door, the elevator, even the bell at school -- it's kind of like being in an amusement park of cute.

So aside from the fact that my water heater isn't working (thank God it's summer and I don't mind the cold showers quite as much) and that the washing machine dumps water all over the floor because, as far as I can tell, the drainage hose goes nowhere, things are peachy.  I already have cable -- or perhaps their basic TV package includes 70-some channels? -- and I can sporadically steal internet from someone else in the building with an unsecured signal.  The other things will be fixed sooner rather than later, I hope.

The location is great, too.  I live less than a 5-minute walk from my school (you can see my building from the front door of the school), I'm told that I'm close to a great university nightlife spot, and there's a Home Plus just a couple of blocks away, which is HUGE and has just about anything you could possibly ever want to buy.  It contains a McDonald's, a Dunkin' Donuts, a Baskin-Robbins and its own restaurant/cafeteria thing.  It's probably a bit pricier than the mom & pop shops around, but boy, is it convenient. And every so often a song will come on the PA system and all of the employees will stop what they are doing, right where they are, and do a little calisthenics routine.  Entertainment!

Waygooks in downtown Gwangju

Speaking of entertainment, the fun just keeps going on and on in this city.  It never really shuts down.  You can get deep fried pieces of unknown seafood at any time of the day or night simply by pointing at a plate and handing a couple thousand won to the smiling ajuma standing over the fryer.   No Korean necessary!  And the only reason you might end up on the street outside the seafood stand in the first place is because the owner of the expat bar you were busy dancing at finally kicked you out so he could go home and sleep.  On top of that cake (as any good travel experience is an exercise in self-discovery), I have recently learned yet another fact about myself: accents are very bad for my willpower. It seems these Brits and Irish can talk me into anything just because they sound all charming with their missing consonants and antiquated words.  Fortunately, they’ve all been good people so far and not lured me into anything too detrimental.  Yet.

However, behind all of the newness and excitement lurks the fact that I have never been so helpless since I was a small child.  I have to give myself a pep talk every time I walk out the door.  Yes, you can take the bus, Caitlin.  You can go grocery shopping, figure out what to buy (even though you can't read any of the labels) and even communicate with the cashier who doesn't understand that you don't speak Korean (charades teaches important life skills).  You can go out into your neighborhood and, if you get lost, you can figure out how to ask for directions to get back again.  My first night out, I was physically trembling at the thought of finding a taxi to meet the other waygooks (foreigners) downtown.  And no amount of self-pep-talking will change the fact that I must rely on my head co-teacher for other basics like communicating with my landlord, doing all of my paperwork and bills, reading the bus route map, getting my internet and phone set up when it comes time....I don't even know how to check my own bank balance!  It's an experience that has caused me to start regressing in ways that have nothing to do with my inability to read or speak in this country.  Like my brain is automatically reverting to high school mode.  However, I can proudly say that I am still worlds ahead of my middle school students, whom I met today for the first time.

So, self-discovery lesson #2: I was most definitely NOT born to teach.  Today was such a huge bomb.  I don't think my lesson was that bad -- just an introduction about myself, making name tags and going over class rules.  But 3.5 out of the 5 classes I taught talked the entire time, and there was nothing I could do to get them to shut up.  I just don't have the heart to make them stand at the back of the classroom with their hands in the air or anything of that ilk (plus how effective is it when half the class is standing back there?), and I'm certainly not going to carry around a bamboo stick and thwack their desks (and perhaps them?) every so often like one of my co-teachers.  I can only improve from here, I suppose, I just have to figure out how.

At least 3 of my 4 co-teachers are fairly young, so that should help me in developing some sort of rapport with them.  My head co-teacher is a mom with a son in high school and another one working in Seoul.  She's quite nice, but has kept me at arm's length so far.  The students, on the other hand, want to get as close as possible.  Physically.  As close as possible.  And then ask me all kinds of weird questions about my age, marital/dating status, height, etc., etc.  Then they make a loud, choral "oooooh!" sound when I tell them how old I am.  I'm not sure if they think I'm really young or really old.  They run down the hall and come into whatever room I happen to be in just to stand close to me, giggling.  I was told that I'm pretty at least 10 times today and got 2 or 3 "I love you"s, which was not quite as big of a confidence booster as the principal & others saying that my entire two-word Korean vocabulary is quite good!  And I pronounce it well!  Koreans are just so nice.  I take it all with a healthy pinch of salt.

Being a Korean tourist

Before we get to the meat of this post,  I have an important announcement:

I've found cheese!!!!

Well....sort of.  I mean, it's technically cheese in that it's on a pizza (that is also topped with green peppers and bulgogi - go figure) and it's not totally disgusting, but I'm not sure it truly deserves the name of cheese.  The crust was stuffed with something purporting to be cheese, as well, but......yeah.  Still looking.  But this is the first cheese-like substance I've seen since coming here, so it was exciting!

Between our 9-5 days of lectures, Sunday was Korean Culture Field Trip Day.  And so it was that after many years in DC spent grumbling about tourists and heading the other direction as soon as I saw a tour bus (particularly one with Korean writing on it), I have now become a Korean tourist myself.

We had the Korean tour buses, we had the matching shirts, we even had the "If found, please return to..." name tags.  We massed on sidewalks and in roadways, blocking foot and road traffic, and even crashed the locals' campsites and watering holes.  To make up for it, we provided plenty of entertainment for anyone who was around.  Koreans were taking pictures of the herd of foreigners covered in paste trying to decorate traditional paper fans, then busted out the video cameras when we were coerced into joining in some sort of elaborate, noisy traditional dance in the Hanok village.

We also saw the Keumsan Temple - a place that I understand rather little about, except that it's a very old but still operating Buddhist temple complex that tourists like us like to visit.  Anyway, there are some photos of that and the rest of our tourist day here.

Over my time at orientation, I've learned a lot about English, as well.  For instance, did you know that British people still use the word "fortnight"?  In the US we only learn that word when we're studying Shakespeare.  They also say things like "the bees knees" and call lunch "dinner".  And when we tell them that they're using stuffy language, they remind us that our country has cheese in a tube, and I, for one, must acquiesce.

This entire orientation week has been a lot of fun.  We've had a ton of information crammed into our throbbing noggins, but it's all been good information.  And everyone has had a lovely time making new friends, experiencing new things, and speculating about the year ahead.  It's almost been like being back at college -- dorm rooms with roommates, cafeteria meals, classes, group projects, drinking almost every night -- I even got tapped on the shoulder the other day, which was so very grade school that I almost laughed in the person's face.  But that's really been the pervading atmosphere here, so I can hardly blame him.  But sadly, this little bubble is about to burst.

Later today we meet the heads of our POE/MOEs (Provincial/Metropolitan Office of Education), who are basically our bosses.  Then tomorrow we'll be whisked away out of English-Speaking Fairy Land and into the real Korea where we will be left to fend for ourselves (mostly).  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared shitless, but I am definitely looking forward to unpacking and settling into my apartment!  No internet at home until I get my ARC (alien registration card), so the blogs might be a bit sporadic for a while (not like I've been on the ball so far or anything).  Just so you know.

Strange things that Koreans believe: Lesson 1

Most important things first: I am completely floored that people are actually reading my blog -- and commenting, too!  You've made me even more excited about this little bloggy endeavor.  Let's hope I can keep things interesting so it's worth your while to keep reading and commenting!

I should also beg your forgiveness up front if this post is a little wonky.  I'm not sure if it's the jet lag finally catching up with me or the 1-hour Korean/Hangul crash course that I just finished, but I'm suddenly exhausted and my brain feels like jelly.  That probably won't keep me from going over the survival Korean chapter in our orientation handbook, though, as it looks like it might help clarify a lot of what the Korean teacher was so encouragingly throwing at us at warp speed.  While others are watching a Korean movie or hitting up the soju, my roommate and I are going to exercise our typing fingers and then hit the sack.

Yesterday I finally figured out why our a/c unit keeps shutting itself off: fear of FAN DEATH (dum dum dummmm).  I had been told about this before, but had forgotten about it.  Apparently it is a widely held belief in Korea that if you leave a fan or an air conditioner on overnight, it will suck the oxygen out of the air and kill you.  This is a phenomenon known (at least to westerners) as fan death.  The extremity of this belief is increasingly giving way to the milder version that sleeping with a fan or a/c on just makes you sick (instead of killing you), but being as how I've slept with both a fan and a/c on all night for most of my life, I am not inclined to buy into this.  And I kind of resent waking up at night in the Jeonju summer heat (which is 10 times worse than DC summers -- I swear the humidity borders on 99% here) because someone decided to protect me from my own reckless sleeping choices.

Fortunately I slept pretty well last night thanks to a rather tiring round of Korean-style karaoke.  We had originally intended to just find a bar in which to sample some of the local selection of soju, but the university seems to be on the outskirts of the city, and since classes aren't in session right now, we were hard pressed to find a place that was open.  Instead, we purchased some not-so-fine beer and soju from a FamilyMart and plopped down on the steps outside one of the closed establishments.  It hadn't cooled off much, and the preying mantises (manti?) presented a challenge in avoidance (they're like moths in the US, flocking in droves to lighted store windows -- perhaps after the other bugs that are drawn to light?), but there's something kind of fun about drinking in the street.  Probably because it's a serious no-no back home, and the last time I did it was in Paris, so fond memories and all.  Our group slowly grew larger as others in the same bar-less situation glommed on, and someone suggested that we find a karaoke room.

Yes, room; not bar.  They're little, in this case underground, BYOB establishments where you rent a small room for a certain amount of time and regale your group with your vocal (and sometimes dance) talent.  This is good, in that mass embarrassment is replaced with small-scale humiliation.  It's bad in that each person gets much more singing time, and people feel the need to put additional pressure on the more reluctant participants (i.e. me).  I've never really been one for karaoke -- I can never hear well enough to stay on pitch and the mediocre musical stylings of my tipsy fellow bar denizens pains my musical sensibilities.  Last night, I was the one causing pain, as I had warned my companions would happen.  They did not listen; I went ahead and got it over with; I was not asked to sing again.  The night ended with all of us belting out a long round of classics en masse and then retiring a good hour before our 1am curfew.  All in all it was good fun and another opportunity to get to know my fellow teachers.

This morning we had to report in shifts for the health check (necessary to secure an alien registration card), which brings me to the second item in Strange Things That Koreans Believe.  This exam included the works: height & weight, blood pressure, eye exam, blood work and a chest x-ray, all conducted in an assembly line of wide-eyed, green EPIK teachers.  I felt rather like a horse that was being looked over before purchase -- if I don't pass, will they not buy me?  We were told to fast for 6 hours before our designated examination time.  The strange thing about this was that water was also on the forbidden list.  I understand the need for fasting before bloodwork, and am accustomed to fasting for 8 hours rather than just 6.  But no water?  No coffee, no soda, sure.  But water??  And there was a pee test involved in the exam, which proved rather difficult for many people.  They gave us a small (perhaps 6 oz) container of orange juice after the phlebotomists had finished with us, but when you haven't had any water since the night before (and in my case are even more dehydrated from drinking the previous evening), your body just sucks that up like a sponge.  Nothing goes through, at least not for quite a while.  Add to that the fact that my exam shift wasn't until 11am and the toilets made available for our use were squatters, and I had some serious issues with peeing in a cup.  Now I'm no medical professional, but I can't see what purpose this served.  Perhaps they just wanted to make sure they got a very concentrated urine sample, which they certainly did from me.

I'm sure there must be some weird/unfounded stuff that Americans or other westerners believe, too, but as an insider it's hard for me to think of any.  Anyone else know of something?  Or perhaps have an insight into the water ban?

Oh, who am I kidding.  I'm going to bed now.  I'll study my Hangul later.  I need to rest my brain so I can make it through a full day of classes tomorrow.

Never underestimate the importance of pictures

I made it!  Safely, soundly and surprisingly uneventfully.  My international flight experiences are never so simple and smooth, so I'm probably in for it on the trip home.  In the mean time, I'm just thankful that both I and my luggage made it through more than 30 straight hours of travel in one piece.  And without going completely stir crazy.

I've already had my first run-in with cultural differences.  When we boarded the buses to take us from Incheon/Seoul airport to Jeonju for orientation, 8 volunteers were requested to help load luggage on the bus.  I hopped up and went to take my place in the luggage-loading assembly line, at which point the Korean coordinator came up to me and told me that I was the first lady ever to volunteer for that job.  I'm not sure whether that was a nice way of saying "Ladies can't carry luggage" or "You're bucking the system" or if he was simply making an observation.  Either way, it seems I've already overstepped the traditional Korean boundaries for women.  That didn't take long.

I am currently at Jeonju University for a week of orientation, where I will presumably learn how to teach Korean kiddies and survive in a country where I am, at least for now, functionally illiterate.  I have never been so grateful for the little pictures that accompany the words on signs before.  Want to claim your bags at the airport?  Follow the little picture of a suitcase.  Want to find the stairwell rather than wait on the elevator?  Follow the sign with a man running up stairs.  If it weren't for these things, I would be unable to complete the most mundane of everyday tasks (or it would take me two to three times as long).  Case in point: the a/c unit in our room.  It can only be controlled with a remote control, which has no pictures.  We just press buttons until it does what we want it to (sort of.  It seems to only run for so long before it shuts itself off, leaving me to wake up gasping in a puddle of sweat.)  It's a strange feeling, not being able to read.  And even if I could read Hangul, I wouldn't know what any of the words meant.  I have a lot of studying ahead of me.

Upon arrival, we were handed gift bags with an EPIK towel and an alarm clock, both wrapped neatly in pretty paper; some snacks and water; and 3 books somehow related to Korean education and getting by in Korea, all of which I'm sure we'll have to read.  This won't be a lazy man's orientation week.

This is our room.  It's much nicer than I had expected.

I'm staying in a dorm with a large chunk of other EPIK teachers.  My roommate is from Canada, and so far I've also met teachers from South Africa, Ireland, England.....my accent-loving cup runneth over.

The Korean bathroom - no shower, just a shower area and drains in the floor.

One of the desk/storage areas

The view from our window (14th floor)

I know the placement's not so nice looking on those photos - I'm still learning the quirks of this bloggy thing.  And speaking of the internets, can anyone tell me how to make my Google searches show up in English???

Both meals we've had so far have been decent.  We're eating in the dorm cafeteria.  Kimchi, rice and some sort of tofu soup alongside canned peaches, strangely-colored scrambled eggs and slightly soggy toast.  I'm not sure if the eggs and toast are standard or if EPIK is just trying to make us feel more at home.  More kimchi, more rice, potatoes, sweet-ish pickles, macaroni salad, bulgogi, more soups and some slightly unusual-tasting yet yummy spaghetti at lunch.  And watermelon and peach tea - for the US southerners?  It seems they put a variety of vegetables in everything, regardless of what the traditional recipe calls for (see spaghetti, scrambled eggs and macaroni salad).  It also seems that no coffee or related drink (tea, coffee "beverages" in a can at convenience stores, etc.) comes with any less sugar than it takes to rot the teeth out of your head on the spot.  I skipped the chopsticks at breakfast but tackled them at lunch.  Koreans use metal chopsticks, which I find more difficult to manipulate than the wooden kind.  But I certainly won't starve, and there are the fork and spoon backups.

I'm off to the opening ceremonies now, map in hand, which is really just a big, complicated picture.