Thursday, July 31, 2008

Summer Break at a hogwan

It's summer break here at my hogwan. A one week sabbatical from the sounds of laughing kids, crying kids, screaming kids-- all to remind me that I am a teacher. There is no stinky, hot and humid basement to prep my lessons in and certainly no director to watch over us teachers who are consistently late for their classes. He said anyone with three tardies to any class would be dismissed. That has and will never happen. As much as we are indebted to the owner and school, they are also our slaves. They need us much more, however. We have the power, I think.

Yanne posed me the question: Do I miss my kids? I told her that I miss a few of them. The ones who make me laugh; who are fun, cute and cuddly. The others, no. Do I miss my EAS3 (ages 10-12) class of five? Nope. They can barely spell the word "blue" or "black." They are less smart and attentive than my kindergarten (ages 8-10) class of ten! Most of my EAS 3 are lazy and stupid.

My job as a teacher is to inspire, to create lessons that teach them to feel and be less inhibited in speaking and learning English. Where they can experiment with words and sounds. Hasn't happened. They are uninspired, un-focused and loud and obnoxious.

In that class a girl named Ji-Yun is picked on by SunJu and Lilly. They make her cry. They don't want Ji-Yun to sit with them. There are only three girls and the two boys in that EAS class. The boys don't want to sit with Ji-Yun either, which is understandable since they are boys and Ji-Yun is a girl. That little twit SunJu is totally mean towards Ji-Yun in the way that girls are mean to each other. It's really ugly. I feel bad for Ji-Yun. She is quirky and they are conventional and too cool for her. I've had the associate director come up and give the mean girls a little pep talk. I don't like the two mean girls. The boys are okay. But they detract from the class with their antics.

A while back I wrote about one of my students named Amy who was hit by her mother for not performing well in English class. Well, that Amy in my IEP3 class is still performing great but is a bratty and obnoxious kid who I don't like anymore. Maybe this is the result of her abuse or she is becoming a teenager or both or neither.

I worked really hard in that class and the kids are still bored. We've planted tomatoes, cared for them, used the Internet to learn about soil and tomatoes. We've read a play, done poetry, written silly things like "Dung is a good food to eat." I'm struggling with them. Maybe I am a terrible teacher or maybe they are so busy and feel forced to take English classes to appease their over worked parents. I feel frustrated with them.

My favorite class is my advance IKPA, kindergartners who are cute and fun and enjoy the learning process but do get bored. Most of them I like. We have fun with English, as in my other classes, but they seem to enjoy it and have fun. I like all of them but a few I missed this week.

There's Euro (her English name), a very funny girl who makes me laugh when she pretends she is mad at me and "scolds" me in Korean. I don't know what she is saying to me but the other kids are rolling on the floor in laughter. She may grow up to be a comedienne one day. She's a sweat heart who needs help with everything though. She can do the work but she decides not to. I sometimes need to stand or sit next to her to have her write faster and complete her work. She likes to raise her hand and answer questions. Recently, she decided it would be more fun if she raised her foot instead. Now, the other kids are copying her. In fact, they have fake phone conversations with their feet. They pretend their feet are telephones and raise it up to their ears to talk. (Phone rings...)"Yo-bo-say-o?"

Then there's Emma who finds everything I plan too easy and too slow especially when we play Simon Says. She is a very smart kid who has a real facility for languages. She's fun to teach and loves when I read to her. She gives me parts to read in the book and she will read the other parts aloud. Very cute and fun.

Dennis is like the super genius in that class. He gets everything. He is an ESL sponge. He's cute and fun and loves to draw. The class is too easy for him though. He will be ready in a few months for the next level and I look forward to helping him get there. He sits next to Ronnie James Dio, the dumb kid I wrote about who dropped two months ago and is now back, asthma and all. Dio is actually really bright so I don't know if he had a brain IQ spurt or he is maturing in age. I feel bad for him because he breathes really heavily. Maybe this interfered with his learning process. He is kinda gross. For example, he will sneeze and snot will be like two green daggers hanging from his nose. Disgusting. After a while he'll ask if he can get a tissue. Dio!

Then there's Sunny (her English name). She is a special kid who is so intuitive and insightful it may verge on being psychic. She is a joy to teach and has a wonderful sense of humor. She has said things to me in English that have been weirdly psychic. One day I was feeling down and she was talking to me in Korean and English asking me questions about how I feel. It was great. She has a big heart. She's in my lunch class twice a week and I had her and the other kids talk to Yanne on the phone. Sunny was asking if Yanne is my friend or girl friend and wanted to know how serious we are! Cute!

I have a few more days off before going back to work. I've been sight seeing, relaxing and playing Palmer style basketball. I am having fun and looking forward to next week, my last working week at the hogwan.

Monday, July 28, 2008

I Can't post my Comments

Hello blog readers! For the past four days, there have been website javascript errors on all the computers here at Joy PC Bong, the place where I write my blog entries from. I've tried different computers at different stations and at different times of the day. That makes me sad! But today it worked! I wanted to say thank you all for your comments the last week and for the last six months too! Thank you.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Safety and well-being in Korea

Suwon has a population of about 1.1 million people. It's an urban area. The main street which I ride my bicycle to and from work, consists of eight lanes and a maximum speed limit of 60mph. The city of Suwon is a large sprawl of apartment buildings, businesses, buses and at 4am, it's common to have traffic jams. With this in mind, I am continually amazed of the feeling of safety I feel and see here.

Parents leave their young child/ren sleeping in their cars, windows down, doors open, parked on the side walk while their parent/s are out of sight. Families walk together, their young kids running ahead, cars speeding by and scooter delivery guys sharing the side walk. Kids, ages 6-18 walking alone, during the day or late at night, to and from school. Families eating dinner at a restaurant; the child finishes her dinner, says nothing to her mom and dad, leaves the restaurant and rides her bicycle down the busy street. This would never happen in Los Angeles or any major urban area. People are scared. Bad things happen. Here in Korea, however, there is a trust among people. For example, although bicycles do get stolen or vandalized there is no incentive to steal one here. Most people have the same style of bicycle called a Lespo and what market is there for those Lespos when everyone has one or can buy a new one for $80?

Last August of 2007, I road my bicycle in Chico and San Luis Obisipo (SLO). I was looking for a new place to live and work and did a four day road trip up north. One of my litmus tests for safety is riding my bike in the morning and late at night. I had the same feeling of safety in those two places as I do here, in a city of 1.1 million people. I love it. People feel safe here. There are no guns owned by individuals, gang violence is very little, there are no "race" issues, people are college educated especially women and sharing is part of their culture. But I don't know the stats of safety and such and I am still guessing why safety here is not an issue like it is back in the States.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Cutting costs or good customer service?

As some of you know I like to patronize several restaurants in my area. One is Miso-Ya, a Japanese place that serves breaded cutlets, and the other, called (I forget right now!) that serves Mon-du and bibimbap. For the most part, they know I am a teacher and that I live or work near their restaurants. They do know my eating habits, however!

The other day I ate dinner with Bernard, a fellow teacher, at the Mon-du place in the Gok. The waitress commented to Bernard, in Korean, that I didn't finish my rice and it would be more cost effective if I ordered something else in which I can finish. Then on Saturday, after my kindergarten six year olds, I went to the Mon-du place again and ordered bibimbap. This time the waitress told me, in Korean, that I don't eat much rice so she would give me extra vegetables! I thanked her. Is this cutting costs or good customer service?

On Wednesday of this week, I ate at the Japanese restaurant and ordered my favorite dish, number 28. It is cooked rice with lots of vegetables and fresh, chopped sashimi. I think it's tuna. Not sure. I put some red paste over it for some spice and chow down, "chop chop" Korean style. Ooo! The cooks know I am not big on eating a lot of rice. Rice likes to settle in my gut region messing up my sexy abs. On Wednesday, she gave me a ton of extra lettuce. But today's number 28 had a 50 percent reduction in the rice! Is this cutting costs or good customer service?

I think it's cutting costs. Korean owners are very price consciousness and who isn't? I hear from all people that Korea has employment problems. How this translates to being price conscious is a big step! I imagine they cut costs whenever they can and since I am one of the few white westerner men who visit, they definitely notice my eating habits and style! Do they do this with other frequent customers? I dunno.

Korean department stores, restaurants and other service industries are customer-driven experiences. It is really quite good. They are helpful. If they can't help you, they find someone who can.

For example, when I bought my cheap-ass basketball at Home Plus, the representative took a new air pump from the shelf, opened it up and pumped air into the basketball. It was a warm day and he broke a sweat.

Another time I was shopping for Yanne in the cosmetic aisle at E-Mart. I spoke to a nice lady who took me around the whole store telling me about lip products in English. She helped give me choices in selecting something nice for Yanne. In the former and latter experiences, it is good customer service.

I am trying to think of the last time I walked into a Los Angeles restaurant and the waiter or waitress was nice, made eye contact, showed some genuine care or pride and provided great service? Hmm.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Chop Chop

I wrote about the Sound of Duk in my Ear, now comes a worse sound from Korea: Chop, Chop.

Every Wednesday when I have a break from 3-6pm, I run errands. I sometimes go to the Suwon library in Young-tong (which has books in English) near Home Plus or just read while having an ice mocha at Holly’s Coffee or Coffee Bean. If the weather is good, I stay at Home Plus and eat at their Food Court. There are many selections there of Korean food. And what else would you expect, gringo? However, if the weather is not so good, I stay in the area near the office. That’s when I get full, frontal Chop Chop.

Most Koreans I’ve had the pleasure to share a table or restaurant with, make this sound while eating. When it’s consistent in tempo and not sporadic, it is really irritating and ingratiating. A lot of my kids do it. In fact, they told me the name of the sound: Chop Chop. I say often say “Chop Chop” to them in the classroom in order to have them hurry or finish an activity. They laugh because Chop Chop is the name of the sound people make when eating.

It’s like the sound of smacking lips. It’s like that lazy sound dogs, in particular, make when lapping up their water. I think it’s partly due to people leaving their mouths open when they eat noodles or other food with slurping sounds-- in combination-- that helps make that sound. It’s definitely cultural and very Korean. When people make that sound, however, it’s annoying. Imagine a table of people making that sound.

I seem to have hit the sweet spot of chop, chop in this one Japanese restaurant called Miso-ya. About one block away from my office, this Japanese chain with its clean tables and fresh food and cheap prices beckons the penny wise traveler that I am. Nine out of ten times when it’s Wednesday, when the weather is not good, and I am stuck in the office, I often go to Miso-ya for a late lunch. And if it’s around 4pm, it’s also the time when the staff eats. I try to avoid the place at that time but if I am really hungry and I don’t want Korea food, which is usually the case now because I am burnt out on it, I eat at Miso-ya. Today, I left Miso-Ya with a lot of my food in my bowl: I was assaulted by their chop, chop sounds.

Without sounding like an ethnocentric racist, I’ve tried so many times to sit through a meal with people making that sound and conclude that I don’t like it, it’s annoying and though it’s their culture, they should stop doing it. Please!! Just like restaurants not allowing smoking anymore, maybe a good cultural trend (without making a law) would be for them to stop that noise! Ah! Have mercy on me!

When eating surrounded by Korean people at a restaurant, I always hope the music gets louder or they’re not hungry or I can find a table away from the choppers. But I have not been able to avoid it. I try to embrace it but it’s not working. When they come to America, they quickly realize, if eating with Westerners, that we don’t make that sound and they stop doing it, I hope. Another facet of American Cultural Imperialism working its magic. Maybe Americans make sounds that others don't like? Hmm.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

MLK


My students are reading about holidays in various countries called Days to Remember. It’s part of this Canadian curriculum distributed by my hog-wan here in Suwon. For example, ANZAC Day (Australia/New Zealand), Canada Day and Martin Luther King, Jr. day (MLK) in the U.S.

The unit focuses on these national holidays in attempts to make them aware of the soldiers who fought for freedom, consolidating provinces into a confederation like Canada and those individuals, like MLK, who fought and pushed for civil rights of African-Americans.

The other day I handed them two MLK worksheets. It had a picture of MLK and parts of “I had a dream…” speech. And the other had a comparison chart of MLK and “me” the student.

We did the comparison chart. It asked how many brothers/sisters did King have and how many does the student have. It asked what did King’s mother do for a living and what the kid’s mother does for a living, etc. You get the picture.

After they filled out the comparison chart, we went around the room and asked them the questions from the activity sheet. They liked it, it got them talking. I like when they talk in English.

I thought it would be great time to introduce the sheet with his most famous speech on it. Instead, they immediately started drawing. The kids decided MLK would look better if he had a full on beard, big horse teeth, Zulu style earrings and tattoos on his cheeks. They are very irreverent and disrespectful at the same time. I wonder if students back in the States would do such a thing? Would they do this to one of their Korean leaders of the past? I know I was serious about the lesson and activity but they were not. I am disappointed in them. If you are thinking about teaching English in Korea, maybe you should not.

All Apologies...

The other day, blog reader, I had an entry about a dude who bought my Korean made steel string guitar. He was out of it every time I called to confirm or give him directions to Seryu Train Station here in the Gok (AKA Gok-Pan). Maybe he was sick. If you read the blog entry, he wanted me to hand him the guitar over the exit rail so he wouldn't pay for the train fare even though it costs .80 cents. I thought he was going to run away with my guitar and kindly asked him to exit so he could sit down and play the instrument. I sold the guitar. Anyways, a day after the sale, he sent this email to me (a direct, unedited quote):

"Hey, sorry I was pretty angry because I had walked around a new station that wasn't on my map and got stuck there for an hour. I had to backtrack to the station on my map and switch trains, while my map said it was all one line that I could sit on. Anyway, thanks for the guitar!"

How about that?! An explanation of his behavior that day which is an apology too. When was the last time you got one of these? If you're like most people, it's pretty rare, I think. Wouldn't it be great if people could do this often?

In Korea many friends settle silly disputes by saying: Paper, Scissors, Rock. In Korean it's "Gao-ee, Bow-ee, Bow." They do the best out of three. The person who wins, gets his/her way or whatever the bet or dispute is about. My students also do this game but a lot of them cheat by changing their hand shapes in order to win. In any case, it would be cool if world conflicts could be resolved this way, peacefully. Wouldn't that be fun?

"Honey, I want to see the film 'Wanted'," he says to his baby.

"No, I want to see 'Sex in the City'," she replies.

"Oh, no! Not that! You made me sit through a whole season and I'm not doing that again..."

"I sat through two seasons of X files..."

"Yes, I know but you have a mad crush on Agent Fox Mulder."

"No, YOU have a crush on Agent Scully! By the way, what kind of name is that?"

"Let's decide the movie," he says, "Well, do Paper, Scissors, Rock. Ready?"

He lost.

Moral of this blog entry: When you get a sincere apology, take it, show the world, publish it, share it with family and friends. However, when you lose a bet to your SO (significant other), grin and bear it! :)

Monday, July 21, 2008

Homeward Bound

I am homeward bound in 10 working days or 20 calendar days if you include weekends. Yeah! I am excited to be with Yanne, family and friends. The only thing I will miss about Korea is bicycling to work.

Over 2 billion people do this daily without a desire to be stuck in traffic, listening to some jackass' loud stereo reverberating through their car or paying $4 a gallon. I love to bike to work. The sidewalks here are wide enough for me and the dozens of moped/scooter delivery guys who share the bike path. Yes, a little dangerous. Living 20-25 minutes away from work is a small item that I will miss about Suwon. Another item about Korea I will miss is.......nothing.

I think I understand why a lot of Koreans prefer living in Western countries. Our lifestyle, overall, is better. Our air, our infrastructure, medicine, education (post-secondary) all are strong pull agents. I'll miss hanging with Bernard and playing basketball at the local park court that needs some urgent maintenance. Nothing else comes to mind. Sad, maybe.

What about the students? I won't miss them. They are fun, cute and cuddly but managing their behavior takes up a lot of class time. They are mostly bratty and uninspired to learn a second language at this time. Maybe their teacher is uninspired too? I often refer to it as "baby sitting." Expensive baby sitting. I keep them occupied with good English activities but they get out of hand. They're kids. They want to play. It's not a good job and school management is not very good either although the owner is honest and a good guy. I imagine teaching is the same in inner city schools minus the guns, gangs, drugs, beatings, bomb threats and the like.

I needed Korea for financial, mental and emotional reasons I have written about before. I was in a funk. I go home to Yanne, family and friends and start new.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Selling stuff in Korea

Hello blog readers. I have used Craigslist.org here in Korea and sold some of my stuff already! I love that website. I got two hits on my cheap Korean bike, one on the guitar and one on the am/fm radio, but the latter was an Internet Paypal type scam. Not me, wise blog reader! I don't fall for that!

I went to a LA public library lecture given by Craig Newmark, the Creator of Craigslist, about two years ago. Rest assured, paranoid blog users. He's one of us, the peeps, workers, proletariat. Looking after for our Internet brethren. Fighting the spam, keeping the Internet free. One of his values is helping society. Although some may criticize him at that, what have you done lately for bettering society?

I sold my acoustic guitar today to some dude named Peter. Every single time I talked to him on the phone, he seemed so out of it! I called him at 12:30pm; it sounded like he just woke up. I called him another time at 7pm, it sounded like...he just woke up. He confused Suwon Station with Seryu Station today. He made me nervous. I could sense the "flake factor" creeping in. Like that terminology? So, I called him to confirm two times. He showed up at the Seryu subway station today--the correct station. It was pouring f-in rain. Typhoon. Raining baboons. Little baby baboons scratching themselves and throwing dung at everyone. I've never seen so much rain!

Anyway, he insisted that I hand him the guitar over the exit guard rail to inspect and play. WTF? No way! He could just run off with it! I would need a subway token just to enter and chase after him! He had one of those Korean T-Money plastic, rechargeable cards for the subway/rail transportation. The card is $3 and the refills are $5. Each ride on the subway is like 80 cents! Cheap bastard! It would cost him like 80 cents to exit and sit down and play the guitar he wants to buy! I told him no. Forgettabout. He relented and exited the turnstile and sat down and played. He liked the guitar. He bought it for 50.00 and off I went to wait for the 83-1 Suwon bus.

In two weeks I will sell my bike and hopefully my stereo. Anyone interested?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Ya!

The title hopefully got your attention. That’s what I learned in writing class back in high school. An interesting title. Well, this blog entry is about this Italian guy who is now living in my apartment.

I've been told I am "mellow" by more than a few people in my life. When that many people say that, you can believe them, right? My mood is generally the same; I am even-keeled about most things. On the rare occasion, however, when I get angry this big Italian mafia guy from Sicily appears, like my second shredded skin, with a stiletto in one hand and a 9mm gun in the other. The last month or two I am finding that Italian guy visiting often. It's like a 1950s Bogart film: the dark figure is sitting in my chair, the lights are out but the light from the outside casts a shadow, he's smoking a Camel and flipping a coin waiting for me to get home! The conversation goes like this:

"We got a job to do," Guido says in his horse accented voice.

"Oh, yeah?" I respond sounding like a tough guy. Guido stands up and walks over to me, pointing his finger.

"That Korean cab driver...let him have it!"

So I did! Guido let loose on that old "ajasi" asshole cab driver who was aggravated with me because I wasn't fast enough giving him his cab fare.

"Wait I minute!," I yelled. He muttered something.

"I am counting the fucking money from five people," I continued. He gestured wildly.

"What the fuck? Just fucking wait! Why is everyone in a fucking hurry in this country?!" but he didn't understand. By this time my co-workers have vacated the taxi. I don't know if they were scared. One of them asked, "Hey, Matt. Who was that Italian guy?"

The other day I am riding my Lespo 21 speed bike, a staple here in Korea; no one steals them because everyone has one. They're heavy, steel framed bikes with some dude named Sam Chully name on every seat. Every time I sit down, Sam gets some ass. Anyway, some mother f!#$er cuts in front of me. I hear Guido yell "Ya!" The driver ignored it. At least once a week this happens. You get cut off, Guido yells, and I feel better! Ya!

Koreans yell "ya" which means "hey!" It could be a toned down-between-friends "ya" which is "hey" or the elaborate, lung-busting-you-piece-of-shit"Ya!" which means "Hey!" It reminds me of Gary Larson's Far Side comic panel where a scientist discovers what dogs really say when they bark. The scientist's instrument panel translates dogs barking into the word "hey." Everything they say is "hey, hey, hey." Ya! YA! YA!!

I'm at the local grocery store, recently renovated, enlarged and re-stocked with the much needed and added PA system which the owner or manager uses by wireless mic to make announcements. I am shopping and all of a sudden, that mother F-er starts his ear-piercing 15 minute sales pitch! He won't shut the F-up! He's loud. He's obnoxious. He uses "ya" a lot. He talks to people shopping in the vegetable and fruit aisle. All of sudden, Guido's coin hits the floor and I hear: "No one is buying your crap! Go to the dry goods aisle, that's where your real margins are!" It's like that yelping dog next door that barks "hey" all the time, at inconvenient intervals, it drives me mad! Guido yells "Ya" at the man but he is too busy selling stuff to no one who is listening.

The other day me, Bernard and Lisa are eating at Miso-Ya (there's that word again) and four middle school girls, in their light blue blouses and navy blue skirts come in and sit down at the adjacent table.

"Oh, boy" I mumble to myself. "They're going to yap and talk loudly, giggle, argue the way any middle school girl or boy do..." and I black out. The next thing I know, Guido is telling them loudly: "Can you guys sit over there?!" They look scared. The next twenty minutes is peaceful: no loud middle school talk just me and my coworkers talking among ourselves. Later, my coworkers ask, "Matt, who was that Italian guy who just left?" Ya.

I know my patience will be back to normal in the States. This country drives you to the edge; people are sometimes more rude, busy and stoic about things then back home. You develop a hair trigger response. And when you do respond, people give you space. It's the polite thing to do.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Ruined Shirts

The other day, it was hot and humid. Like the geek I am, I place my pen in my engineer type ugly striped dress shirt pocket. It’s convenient and enhances my image of being so suave and cool. It’s efficient and until now, no spillage, no leaks. I know others will follow my fashion style since I am breaking new paths in what is acceptable here in Korea! Anyway, by mid afternoon, there’s a huge, blue splotch on my shirt! The pen leaked! And when I was sitting down, the shirt had folded unto itself causing the splotch to multiply by three! Now I have three ink stains. No one noticed in my kinder class! That’s okay and typical…

Another time I was in my kinder lunch class and Peter, holding his crotch and doing the pee-pee dance, asked if he could go to the bathroom. I said “Yes, go! Hurry.” The next thing I know he has dropped his pants and he is butt naked! In the middle of class, the students are eating and no one notices that Peter is butt naked and about to pee! I yelled, “No, not here! Run to the bathroom!” He picked up his pants and dashed off. The students acted like it was normal…

I threw away the cheap ass Mon Ami 153 pen which hasn’t changed at all since I was last here in Korea in 1997. And still, no pen clips! WTF?! How can you not have a pen clip? That’s ridiculous. Every time I bend over the pen flops out like boxer shorts without a front button.

When I went home that evening I took off the shirt and saw that the blue ink blotched my stomach and chest, too. I spent ten minutes rubbing it out of my skin. I soaked the shirt in detergent for one hour and threw it in the wash. The ink stains were still there. Three of them. I threw the shirt out. Forgettabout!!

The next day I took the shirt and garbage bag out for collection. I went up stairs and did another load of laundry, took a shower, ate breakfast, yada yada yada. When it was time to hang up the laundry in my small patio, that bloody blue ink stained shirt was still there! WTF? I threw that puppy out, I thought! Then, I realized that I threw out the other ugly striped dress shirt which is like the ugly striped dress and stained shirt! In all the confusion of being me, I didn’t pay close attention. After all, one stripped line shirt does look like another strip line shirt; the many I have! I ran downstairs but the garbage was already collected. Shit: now I am out of two dress shirts!

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Palmer is leaving Korea

I met with the director and owner of my hogwan (pronounced "hog won") a couple of weeks ago and my official last day is August 10, 2008. If they hire a new teacher sooner than that, I can go home before then. If they don't hire anyone by August 10, I can go home on August 10 and not pay for the airfare and visa fees the owner shelled out to get Palmer's ass in Korea! I've been here less than six months so I am liable for those fees. The owner said I don't need to pay him back. Cool, no problem.

In case you're wondering, I am not interested in teaching in Korea again and if I did want to, I would need to leave the country, go back home and renew my work visa, get finger printed again and an apostille showing that I am not a criminal, all at my cost. Besides, Yanne and I are officially in love and we are planning our future in Los Angeles. Though Taipei might still be in the picture for us at a later date...who knows. I have applied to jobs in Los Angeles. I have a lot that look interesting that fit my skill set. My resume is updated, my references are in order and my cover letters are customized for each position.

I feel okay about my stay in Korea ending. I have saved some money and learned a few things about my self and my teaching abilities and Korean culture. Although the director thinks my "rough housing" games are a big no-no, he and the assistant director, who have observed my classes, and read my lesson plans, think that my teaching is actually good. I actually got a referral letter from the Director which says my teaching is excellent. Yesterday, he sent a follow up email, out of his Directorial kindness, saying my teaching and classes have improved.

Anyway, he got rid of me and now this hogwan is down four teachers--in August four are leaving! I don't think I'm not a good match for teaching (some spoiled and bratty) kindergarten and elementary kids. I think they're funny and warm but I'd rather teach middle, high school or adults. Maybe it's my patience or maybe the kids are just impossible. Hmm. Sometimes I think I just needed a long "vacation," away from everything.

I was at a cross roads in my life and needed some major changes to propel me forward, to shake me loose and get a newer perspective. I love to travel and maybe it was too long a time away from the road? I have Yanne again and I feel very happy and good as we plan a future out with so many possibilities. I appreciate her in every way, her smarts, her beauty, and just her! It's been difficult for her and me, planning and talking the long distance, the continents and admire her for exploring and finding out her feelings about us and what we are planning for the future.

For the past three months we've been in constant communication and have begun a life affirming, love process, if you will (it's corny, I know. And there is beautiful violin music playing to accompany this love we have!). We love each other. We've known each other for years and I think we've grown as people and we will grow more as a couple. We will be together soon and that matters the most!

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Thus spoke the Vomit Man of Gok-Pan

This has been a disgusting month. First there are bits of yellow corn on my pizza and in my spaghetti sauce and then there is: Vomit Man! Before launching his projectile vomit your way, here is some of my own, in diatribe Palmer in Korea, fashion. BTW, happy past Fourth of July to ya Yanks out there! May America live long and prosper (Star Trek reference) while it continues to launch its missives onto peaceful or hostile countries whenever they interfere with our George Bushian "way of life."

Gok-pan (pronounced Goak) is in Suwon, South Korea. That's where I live. Please don't envy me. I know you do. I hear it in your voices over the phone. You say things like, "when are you coming back to L.A.?" Look, I have a pretty good lifestyle here. I bike to work. I live twenty minutes away. I don't pay rent. I work less than 40 hours a week. I actually am saving money. Of course I teach bratty kids but you knew that. I know you envy me for quitting a great job, selling my car, storing my junk and ejecting myself from the first world of America into a very polluted, noisy, confusing society of Korea that builds first and asks questions later. Well, sorry to disappoint you, Go-Pan fans, it is a dirty, noisy and disgusting place. Not all places are like Gok-Pan mind you. I miss my Yanne. In any case, I am venting: I can't sleep very well in the summer.

People are yelling at 2am on the street. I close my windows and I can still hear them. They scream and scream. Why are they screaming? Because they are drunken bastards who show no respect for the sober ones sleeping! Ay!! People come home drunk to my building, there shoes clicking loudly on the marble floor, cell phone ringers, loud and obnoxious. In my apartment I can do the white glove dust test and find a new, fresh layer of Gok-Pan dust every day on my furniture. Its the heavy industrial type too. Nice, black, fresh!

There are a few empty lots in Gok-pan where people spontaneously throw their refuse and furniture. (See the side bar for the picture of the scarecrow, located in one of those lots) Wild, feral cats walk the street. Some in heat, others looking for food. They tear open those yellow compost bags (see picture on side bar) and eat the food. My building's elevator chimes every three to four minutes; one for arriving and two for the ground floor. People are always slamming their doors. People are yelling at each other in the building. Couples fighting. Couples fucking.

Outside the building the good people of Gok-pan have gathered in front to loiter. Kids play soccer or race each other at night in front of my building. "Go somewhere else!," I yell. They just look at me. The cheap wooden gate that is in front of the ground floor restaurant has been knocked down and ripped away! Even the cafe/bar is closed down, vacated. On the street you hear people yelling and they are only asking for driving directions! If you want a good night's rest, don't live here. Gok-Pan is like that river area of State Line, the California-Nevada area, where all the college and older dudes go party each summer to get drunk on boats and throw their bikini tops off. And then there's the vomit. The main point of this blog entry.

In Gok-Pan vomit paddies line the street like twister-dots of different colors. Each weekend drunken Korean men drink heavily, vomit, stagger home or pass out in taxis. Their heads like chickens, swinging from side to side. Korean vomit is a colorful mix of food and that awful soju drink they like because its cheap and of course, their beer. Korea has these beer brands: Cass, Hite, Cafri and OB Lager-- all are terrible. They're cheap and would not survive a global market if better beer was allowed in without the heavy import tariffs. I could not imagine walking into a Western bar and asking the bartender without a smile, "A Hite draft, please."

One night of last I am riding my bicycle towards the Galbi restaurant a lot of the teachers like in my neighborhood. Suwon is the Galbi capital of Korea but the Galbi (barbecue pork) restaurants in Gok-Pan that serve the delicious delicacy, are not very good. I'm not sure if they really like the food or if it's just convenient for them. It doesn't matter.

Anyway, an older guy in his 50s or 60s, wearing a dark suit, has just left that restaurant, staggering. I follow his zig-zag path from behind him, left to right, then right to left. He is searching for his car keys or cell phone. I think to myself, "god, no! I don't want this fucker driving home. He could hurt someone." Then I realize he is just walking home. As I am passing him on my bike, I turn and look over my left shoulder. His eyes are red and glazed over and there's a steady vomit stream coming out of his mouth. It's yellow and viscous. He is walking and vomiting at the same time. He swallows it, it comes out again. It's on his jacket. It's beer colored. At a nearby table at another restaurant, others are watching him in silence. He is staggering and I am laughing in disgust and amazement of his drunken prowess. Thus spoke the Vomit Man of Gok-pan. I love Korea. I ride away as he turns the corner towards home.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

When coworkers remind you of relatives

One of the nice things about moving 6,900 miles away from the States is that those relatives I didn't like stay at home. At first emails are sent to say "hiya doing" and then after a while, they are no longer on your minds nor theirs. It is the natural order of things: when you are out of sight, you are often out of mind. Especially with those marginal relatives (think cousins, whatevers, etc) who you felt obliged to be nice to and visit on occasion with your mom or dad. They feel a relief too, I imagine. They may ask "how is (insert what's-his/her" name) doing?" but it's often not sincere or genuine. They know by asking by proxy that they are being nice. I'm not complaining, you see. Being so far away gives me an excuse and distance something that I like because when the math is done (simple subtraction), I didn't care for them that much and now it's obvious to them as is to me: nobody cared for each other...They would go to my funeral though.

You could argue that if they really cared about me, in spite of my malfeasance, they could have maintained contact. But, they didn't. You could argue that I should have maintained contact but I didn't. It rinses out in the wash, as they say in that cliche. I'm not complaining, you see.

We put up with our relatives (marginal and others) with their antics, inconsiderate behavior, we give them so much lee-way in being "who they are" simply because they are blood relatives. Who wants that anymore? Hmm. By not communicating with them shown that our culture and society has moved beyond blood ties? Is it the paradox of email that the more convenient it is to communicate, the less we do so? Has "losing" the traditional family arrangement made our society stronger or weaker or just indifferent? Is there anything gained or lost? The great thing about family, you can pick up where you left off from. So, in a month or year or two I could drop by and say "hello" and be welcomed. So, I think.

Oh, yeah! The purpose of this blog entry. Get to it Palmer! Bali-bali, Het-a (that's Korean for hurry up, yo-yo!) There's a coworker here who reminds me of a marginal relative there. I haven't talked to my relative in a long time. My coworker in Korea has very similar personality quirks that bring out in me certain feelings I don't like about my relative/s. I guess I am a little slow but 6,900 miles away I realize that!

That's the latest and greatest from Suwon, the Galbi capital of Korea. Have a great day.