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.

Learning: It's what schools are for

Disclaimer: These are really just my own ideas from personal observation during 11 months of teaching in Korea and having completed K-12 in the American public school system. (Back in the 80s-90s, admittedly. It’s entirely possible that U.S. schools have already adopted some of these suggestions, but I doubt it.) The list is far from exhaustive, the ideas are not studied or polled, and they are far from scientifically proven. In addition, it should be noted that I, myself, am about as far form being an expert in this area as I can be. I am also an extremely talented bullshitter. Take that as you will.

What American schools can learn form Korean schools:

• Metal lunch trays. Yes, they conduct heat and you sometimes burn your hand, but kids learn pretty quickly. And they are the most durable things EVER. Buy them once and you’re set until doomsday. Plus no questionable plastic-y chemical content!
• Give students an hour break for lunch. Encourage them to play soccer or badminton (or something a bit more American) when they finish eating. It’s like recess for middle and high school students, and it’ll keep them from being so fat.
• At the end of each day, have students clean the classrooms themselves. It teaches them responsibility and helps them feel some ownership of their environment. Theoretically (key word there), this means they will take better care of the school.
• Turns out uniforms aren’t such a bad idea. I would’ve hated them as a student, but they really do level the playing field a bit.
• Require more formal respect for teachers and authority in general. Small acts of formalized respect provide a far less serious line for rebellious students to cross when they feel like testing their limits.
• Require every student to study a foreign language, beginning in early elementary school when they have a better chance of becoming fluent. The fact that we are lucky enough to have been born speaking the international lingua franca is no excuse for willful ignorance of other languages and cultures. Also, studying a foreign language helps students better understand their own language and culture.
• OMG, we had some seriously crappy and generally unhealthy school lunches compared to Korean schools. Work on it.

What Korean schools can learn from American schools:

• Have professional cleaners come in at least a couple of times per semester. Honestly, the kids just don’t cut it in the long run.
• Never require uniforms that consist of plaid pants and striped shirts/jackets. It’s just not right.
• Encourage your students to question authority, find their own answers and problem-solve. (This can be done in a respectful and productive manner. We just have to teach them how.) Creative, free-thinking adults are much more beneficial to society than memorization robots.
• 14 hours of school per day, plus occasional Saturdays, is just too much. Give them time to be children (and pre-teens, and teenagers). That way they’ll be ready to actually be adults when the time comes.
• I’m pretty sure it actually takes less energy to heat/cool a room and then keep it at that temperature than it does to constantly turn the heat/air conditioning on and off all day. It also helps to keep the temperature in the hallways regulated as well, so there’s not a blast of cold/hot air to fight every time a student opens the classroom door (which is very often). Even if all that’s not true, it most certainly does not help to have the windows open while you’re running said heat/air conditioning.
• Students who are not sweating or freezing tend to pay attention better during their lessons. And teachers teach better. And we all think better.

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.