Saturday, May 24, 2008

Korean Students are So Nice!

Yes, blog reader, Korean students can be so nice and complimentary to their hard working "Sung-sang-nims" or teachers. I traveled 6,500 miles from Los Angeles to Suwon to be called: Poop, monkey, dirty, dungy and Red-eyes. My student over whelming think my hair line is that of a monkey's and that I smell like poop, am dirty and supreme dung (crap) maker. Maybe my lesson plans are crap and for sure my eyes are blood shot from the constant assault of pollution and dust from riding my 80 dollar bicycle to work. I can see how my receding hair line can resemble a monkey...but, reader, I really revel in the joy of teaching and gloat like the capitalist I am! Think of it: I am indoctrinating them into Western ways and guiding them with the invisible hand of capitalism so when they are college graduates and start their jobs, they will speak English and buy Western products! I am doing my share of "keeping America strong." I feel so patriotic. I especially like how these students do not withhold their thoughts or feelings towards me or each other for that matter.

Last week I had a student throw her binder at me in frustration. Half her homework was completed; she did not understand the other half of the assignment. So, she decided throwing her binder would be the best solution. Off to the Director's office I sent her, in tears. She cried and cried. She was sorry. Really. I think.

The week before a student charged at me like I was a matador in a bullpen in Spain; brave blog reader I dislodged like a matador master the over weight bundle of fat into Never land--and when he returns from MJ's place he will only be squealing like a pig.

Most recently a student decided it would be funny to just fart at me. I am not paid enough money to put up with this monkey crap. He laughed and I punished him by wrapping his head in cloth and water boarding him in the kid's sink while his classmates laughed and made fun of him. Take that "Bong-goo" (fart) boy! Nice "so called" friends, too.

Yesterday, Dio, who's back from some sort of sabbatical from my class, decides to just let a lot of his drool foam up and foment all over his right side of his mouth and face. It was disgusting and he wanted a reaction from me. I made him wash his face in the classroom sink. Remember Dio? He was the really lazy, and somewhat slow moving boy who's mom met with me a month ago. The school was upset about the loss of him and a few other of my students. The Director, Assistant Director, the Owner and the parents met with me to discuss the situation. Well, she later pulled him from my class; now he's back. He even tells me now that he "loves" me. He has improved his writing skills during that interim, perhaps thanks is due to his better and more competent teacher named Tracy. Or it could be that his mom got all over his lazy ass and told him to stop being so lazy? I dunno.

Then there's Peter, a student who I watch during my lunch hour in another teacher's class. Part of my job is to help administer lunch every day for one hour. Today, Peter, holding his crotch and doing the universal "pee pee" dance, needed to pee badly. I told him to run fast like "bali bali" (very fast) and so he drops his pants right there in class. His naked ass revealed; the students are so nonchalant, they continue eating, yelling. Then Peter realizes that the bathroom is 25 feet away and so pulls up his trousers and dashes off to the restroom. Yes, I am in combat some of the time.

I guess I am just venting. It definitely beats working for Bill and having to call Armani of Beverly Hills to arrange for a suit fitting for him with their visiting Italian tailor or the time when his wife missed her limo to JFK in New York City and me, being so inept, left the limo company his wife's cell phone number as a back up. Of course the company called her cell phone to say they were waiting for her. She never got the message because she doesn't use or bring her cell phone!! She took a cab to JFK--how pedestrian. I was supposed to ask Bill first about his wife's cell number...Or how about the time when Bill would constantly re-arrange his calendar to fit in more important business meetings than meet with students; after all, he is a professor and business and Board meetings are more important than the lowly needs of students. Or the times when...don't get me started, blog reader! I definitely don't wipe anyone's ass anymore! I don't wipe asses here either except mine, of course!

Monday, May 19, 2008

Ajuma Perma Haircuts

In Korea married, older women in their late 40's and above are called "Ajumas" (A-Jew-ma-s"). They are women who have born children, married for years and often have grand children. They are everywhere, these ajumas. They are short, tall, wrinkled. One distinct feature they have, and one way of recognizing the "old" school ajuma from the "new" school, is the ugly perma (permed) haircut.

Like in the West, ajumas get their permed haircuts at saloons. There are six saloons in my area of "Go-pan" (my affectionate term for this changing "ghetto" of abandoned trash and constant sound of buildings constructed). You know that scene in Alien when they discover an alien sitting behind some machine, dead from lack of food? The ajumas here are seated in barber chairs, they are attached to these big, alien-like machines with black wires and thin tubes, the apparatus spins clockwise blasting heat over and under the plastic curlers.

Koreans all hair straight hair. I guess when you have been married a while, born a few kids, hips flaring outward and breasts sagging downward and tired looking at your husband's Buddha-like gut, ajumas run to the nearest saloon and get funky. The permas are not attractive. They look fake...Ugly...Big, thick curls don't look natural on these ajumas, soul brothers and sisters! (Edgar reference).

One way to differentiate between the "old" school ajumas and the "new" school ones is the tightness of the permed curl and the clothing they wear. The "old" school ajumas are usually short, over weight and wear ugly non-sensical blouses with off-patterns and those off-gray plastic-looking nurse shoes you see for sale a block away from any hospital. You know, the kind with the thick padding and concave soles? They don't wear make-up and hobble about, limping from years on the farm and raising kids who have given birth to their ajuma grand kids--those brats I now teach! Ugh! (Last week was difficult teaching them kids, I tell you!). Their curls are big, thick and ugly. They look like vertical bed springs that have broke free from their matresses, shooting skyward with that "boing," "boing" sound you hear in cartoons!

The "new" school ajumas, are thin, stylish and wear designer jeans, nice clothes and heels. They are very coiffed and their children are becoming the same with dyed hair and expensive western clothing which I hate seeing here and in the States. Their permed curls are wavy and natural looking.

Ajumas are a fact of life. If I was a detective searching for a lost Alzheimer ajuma, I could find the missing one in a day. They stand out like orange suspenders on a tuxedo or pink hair at a funeral. Are they rebelling or is this a cultural movement? What is next for these ajumas? I think there should be a sociological study on ajumas. If I can get some funding, I could research this phenomena and find out the "truth" about the perma!

Saturday, May 17, 2008

When students have stripper names

Do Korean parents purposely give their daughters American stripper names? Or is the World of Disney so persuasive and perverse that 6,500 miles from their Burbank Headquarters, children choose their "innocent" English pseudonyms as some sort of Walt Disney fantasy and conspiracy?

I have a student named Princess. She's 11 years old. Princess is a stripper name. I should yell at her mom and dad. To see a real Princess, go to 4Play in West Los Angeles. Princess will make cooing sounds for you as she swivels around pole number three with her four inch heels and white tiara.

Another student here is named Barbie. Like a Barbie doll... Barbie is a 40 year old, tanned and pruned ex-stripper with "D" cups working in the heart of Burbank, probably still the receptionist for that busy law firm of Dewey, Cheatim and Howe. She still wears low cut blouses showing off ample cleavage. My student Barbie is a cute 6 year old who dons yellow and pink nail polish. Isn't she too young for that stuff? When children take images from the Disney machine and make them their own, that is not magical stuff.

Then there's Angel. I bet you my nice salary of 2.2 million Won that there's an Angel in every strip club from Los Angeles to the eastern tip of Montauk Point, New York. And who doesn't like angels, right? The anti-Christ probably. Angel is classic stripper name. It used to be cute and fun, now it's a cliche. Old and wrinkled like Barbie's time sun tanning at Venice Beach. Jesus!

You know when dog owners resemble their dogs after a while? Well, Cherry a 6 year old student in my school looks like a cherry tomato! It's also a more updated version of the classic stripper name of Angel. The Cherry here is a tiny thing with a round, cute Cherry tomato face and matching "bowl" bang haircut. She's sweet. The Cherries of strip joints are the ones who wear the "G" string thong with three cherry hearts on them. They will rob you of your money, like some Rod Stewart song.

Korean parents, if you ever read one post of this forsaken blog, don't name your kids any of these names. They are reserved for strippers. Do you want your daughter to be lap dancing on some businessman or college jar head's lap? No! A name can be self-fulling prophesy. Do you know of any Melvins, Marvins or Bettys now? Drop the stripper names and use something reasonable. Walt Disney would be disappointed that his magic has failed but who cares about the world they create? Would you want your daughter to become a Disney employee who must answer the phone with a smile saying: "Welcome to the magical world of Disney, how can I help you?"

Monday, May 5, 2008

American Gangsta Rap invades Canada

My colleagues at my language institute in Suwon, South Korea are mostly Canadian. I forget what area they hail from. It doesn't matter in this global economy which is border less and invaded by American Gangsta rap.

The other night a bunch of us went to the "Nori Bon," a Korean style Karaoke singing bar where you pay about $13 for two hours to sing and drink with your friends. They had a huge selection of songs, both in Korean and in English. You can also eat food and drink at these places. They are everywhere in Korea. Everyone has their own room; there are couches and air conditioning. It's fun and comfortable. Many have blinking lights, tambourines and all have a wide screen projector and a nice sound system. Just lay off the reverb, eh buddy!

A lot of the songs selected by the Canadians were American rap music like "Gangster's Paradise" by Coolio, Fifty Cent's "In da Club" and an obnoxious Snoop Dogg tune. I am pissed off by this. A bunch of white and mixed, Canadians rapping and singing American Black Gangsta rap in Suwon, Korea. What do they know about urban black people's struggle? Probably nothing. I know I don't that much and I live in L.A.

With the risk of sounding like an idiot and an uptight old fart, this style of music contains and portrays violence, drugs as an end into dealing consumerism and vitriolic misogyny. It has no place in Canadian culture and vocabulary with my 20 something co-workers. American Imperialism has landed in Canada and in South Korea. It is sad and pisses me off.

Many people relate to this music and that's fine. It's unfortunate that this music is exciting, fast, fun, angry and has garnered so much popularity. Rap music portrays people who are fighting for their rights on some level which I can't relate to. This style of music sings of respect, money, dignity, freedom, sex and other things that protest songs did but in an urban, ghetto setting with guns, lots of guns (Matrix reference).

I guess I am mad about the medium in which it's delivered. I am for music that expresses those qualities but there is something "wrong" about hearing this music from the hood of L.A. in the provincial city of Suwon, South Korea. It is fucked up, really. This music is not cool. What would you rather do? Chill to Pink Floyd or Snoop Dogg? There's a terrible "hardness" to this music that is contagious and cancerous. Gangsta rap has infected cultures across the globe and people like it!! I think that's fucked up too.

Maybe if I go back in time to Chicago, Illionois circa 1950 and go to a blues bar to hear Muddy Waters play with Little Walter on harmonica, I could somehow juxtapose that and related to gangsta rap of 2008? People would look at me in my 1950's clothes, a white guy, that buttermilk spot in a sea of black faces and they would think and ask: "What the fuck is this guy doing here?" How could I relate to the blues of Muddy Waters, a cotton picker from the south? I can't but I can get the blues. I can feel sad and joyous like many of Muddy Water's songs. In any case, blues music contrasts to the culture we live in now. A society of easy gun access, shootings in schools, violence, dealin drugs, fighting turf wars with other gangs, a gangsta's life style. I don't get it. If I go back in time fifty years from now (2058) and visit the clubs where Snoop and his ilk played, me with my white face in a sea of mixed people, they wouldn't say: "What the fuck is he here?" But how could I relate even then?

Maybe I'll re-write this piece or delete it.

Palmer in Korea signing off and out.