The Sauna

Being a foreigner in Korea does wonders for your self-esteem. By default, I'm almost always more "handsome" (Korea's favorite word to describe foreign men) than Korean men, and I've even been called "beautiful" (Korea's favorite word to describe foreign women). These days it's almost a guarantee that if I meet someone new, they will call me handsome sometime in the first 10 minutes after we meet. I know I look different. I know I look exotic. And unless you look like Alan from The Hangover, you're gonna get the same treatment. I'm hardly complaining. This is something that I've gotten used to over the 10+ months I've lived here. However, for one reason or another, I can't get used to the stares.

When a person walks by me on the street (usually an older man or woman) and blatantly turns around or stops what he or she is doing just to make eyes at me, I still find myself having the same angry, knee-jerk reaction. I just can't get adjusted. There's millions of foreigners living in Korea these days - we're here and we ain't going anywhere.

Today at the sauna was no different. I think I did a decent job at curbing my frustration but I understand that most people in conservative, little Jinju don't expect foreigners to saunter into the jjimjilbang like they own the place. This place definitely provided an experience and it was the perfect rainy day to go.

Instructions:

1) Pay 10,000 won and receive a heavy robe that looks like a taekwando uniform.

2) Go to the changing room, strip, and put on your ridiculous robe.

3) Selected your sauna temperature (aka choose the little clay hut you feel like baking in).

4) Roast yourself in the dark while Koreans use the little light there is to decide if you look more like Gerard Butler or Sylvester Stallone (I've been called both...)

5) Don't pass out and get out before you do.

6) Repeat step 5 as needed.

7) Shower, dress yourself, depart.

Damn. Someone should really pay me to write a professional Korea travel blog. I'm providing a service here! Next time anyone Googles "Korean sauna" they're gonna stumble across this masterpiece and it will only make their lives easier when they go.

I just don't see it...

Sports Day 2

The third-year students were the eventual Sports Day champions and they had the most badass/effective tug-of-war strategy of all. Of course, it helps that they're the oldest and strongest but the kid beating the drum to the rhythm of each pull was an awesome touch.

Sports Day 1

Two weeks ago, my school held its annual Sports Day. I always enjoy the chance to interact with my students outside of the classroom and this day provided the perfect opportunity. The weather was perfect, parents cooked food, and it was clear that students and teachers alike enjoyed the various games and activities.

Each class put together a soccer team to compete in an all-day tournament. This midfield greeting is typically Korean and similar to the handshake line at the beginning of professional games

Perhaps the most absurd part of the day was the dance routines put together by first-year students. Most boys dress up as girl pop groups and the dances are often as inappropriate as they are hilarious.

Group jump rope.

Team tug-of-war.

The second-year student cheering section.

Korean English Speakers

I've been contemplating the idea for this particular blog post for a while now but I wanted to make sure I observed enough Korean people to begin to make some definitive conclusions. I've decided that one can categorize Korean people into four groups when it comes to their willingness to interact with English speaking foreigners. I've had over 10 months to observe these people and I feel confident in my assessment. In no particular order, here's what I have concluded.

High confidence/high ability: These Koreans tend to be university students or English teachers and most often major in English. English may have come easily to them in middle/high school or they may have had another reason to pursue the language. Those with the highest levels of confidence are currently involved in their university program and most have an English native speaker as their teacher. They've been exposed to idioms, slang and different types of English speakers. Most importantly, they're eager to learn more.

High confidence/low ability: This group of Koreans is easy to spend time around but exhausting to communicate with. Many Korean men become honorary members of this group when the soju starts flowing. One of the physics teachers at my school could captain this team. He has no reservations about trying to use the English he knows but he sounds like a squirrel with acorns in his cheeks when he tries to speak. If I'm to communicate with a member of this group, he or she will demand my full attention.

Low confidence/high ability: This group is a tricky one because it's much larger than I initially thought when I first came to Korea. Any Korean who formally studies English is drilled in grammar, reading and listening comprehension and it's likely they can articulate more English grammar rules than the average American. The problem with this group is that it's difficult to convince them to open up. You know the knowledge is there but they're terrified of making mistakes and will avoid eye contact at all costs if they think it will lead to a conversation with you. Many of my students fall into this category and it's frustrating to say the least.

Low confidence/low ability: Most of these people don't even try to speak English or they'll assume that since you live in Korea, you must know Korean. Some might cast a judgemental glance your way unless you try using Korean at least once in their presence, but most will likely ignore you. You might get a 'hello' or 'hi' out of them on a good day, but don't get your hopes up. This isn't to say that these people are antisocial by any means. They simply haven't found time, motivation, or a reason to study English and they're not as exciting/able to converse with English speaking foreigners as their friends in other groups.

Obviously not every Korean person will fall into one of these categories, but I've found that the majority can be placed somewhere along this spectrum.

Outback

I went to the Outback Steakhouse in Jinju for lunch today. Because it's an American-based restaurant, all of the waiters and waitresses had nametags with Korean and English names.

Many of the Fulbright ETAs choose to give their students English identities as a fun activity at the beginning of the semester while often making it easier for them to remember names. Popular names coincide with celebrities, sports figures, and musicians (i.e. Angelina, Kobe, and Lady Gaga).

Now I assume one of the many benefits of working at an Outback Steakhouse in Korea is that you get to choose your own English name for the nametag you'll wear to each and every shift.

On the way to our table I saw Amy taking an order. I saw Chris clearing some dishes off a table. And I saw Lisa showing some customers to their seats.

Our waitress's name was Lemon.

Lemon. Lemon. LEMON.

I hope she didn't know that when I started to laugh it was at her...

Where there's positivity, there's hope

This blog is not politically motivated. I don't feel pressure to please, humor, or shock my readers. Part of me believes these words aren't for them at all. In fact, I'm sure the number of readers who frequent this blog is insignificant and most who do probably hear more interesting and entertaining stories from me through less impersonal forms of communication. With that being said, there is one news story that has dominated the headlines in the American media and like the effects of the devastating earthquakes in Japan earlier this year, drifted into the immediate consciousness of the Korean people. If this post accomplishes nothing else, it will serve as a personal reminder when I look back on this blog that this news story broke May 2011 when I was winding down my time in Korea.

Osama bin Laden was killed this week during a U.S. sponsored raid on one of his many compounds in Pakistan. My understanding of the story from internet sources is that American intelligence suspected his presence in that particular compound at the time of the raid but that President Obama's decision to order the attack has been called "one of the gutsiest presidential decisions in recent memory." Gutsy or not, results were achieved and many pundits have argued that this decision and corresponding platform of "justice" will serve as a springboard for Obama's election to a second term. Time will tell.

The overwhelming amount of international reaction and feedback has been nothing short of staggering. My friend even went so far to tell me that he initially became aware of bin Laden's death through ESPN's website. Popular blogs and websites that I frequent during my days in Korea jumped on the story right away. Blunt headlines like He's Dead! and We Got Him! seemed to be the most common. Sheepishly, I was forced to defend the subsequent actions of my fellow Americans (i.e. dancing and singing in the streets) to confused Koreans whose apathetic feelings about bin Laden's death are closer to my own. Confession: when I heard the news, I asked my friend, "hasn't he been dead for years?"

Perhaps this is an indication on my personal struggles to keep up with current events. Maybe it's a larger commentary on the limited attention span or an "out of sight, out of mind" attitude of Americans in general. Either way, the news didn't shock me. I wasn't relieved or angry. I didn't (and still don't) feel like any measure of tangible justice has been achieved. Admittedly, I was not significantly affected by the attacks on 9/11 and I don't have anyone close to me fighting the larger War on Terror abroad. Perhaps, people with these sorts of intimate ties to the decisions and actions of men like bin Laden feel like wounds caused to their families and friends has been marginally repaired. A large part of me doubts it.

The reality is that men like Osama bin Laden will always exist. Evil, suffering and pain will always exist. As a history major, my studies led me to believe that when a man like bin Laden dies, ten more are waiting in the wings to replace him. More importantly, death does not lead to life. While the two are intrinsically linked, bin Laden's death will not bring back a single person who died because of his orders or immediate actions. That's not how this life works and there's a reason that Aladdin's Genie wouldn't do it either.

The conclusion of a human life is always accompanied by a conscious and unconscious rush of emotion, regardless of the circumstances surrounding it. I would hope that popular celebrities, 90-year old homebodies, and everyone in between has someone close to them who cares if they pass. Someone who will grieve, eulogize, and honor. The grieving process is natural, necessary and human. The progression of grief is organic and takes time but the path towards healing isn't meant to be backtracked upon. Always remember and honor the dead, but don't sully the memories of loved ones by regressing into anger and stooping to the same lows that our enemies have. Take the high road and set an example.

I'm the type of person who doesn't struggle to focus on the positives in life, but I've trained myself to be this way. Dwelling on negativity and committing actions in hate, anger, or spite are surefire ways to guarantee a life full of failure and distrust. Where there's positivity, there's hope. Where there's hope, there's love. And where there's love, there will always be something to live for.

Spring in Jinju

A fresh look to the path along the Nam River.

Some of the first flowers blooming in the Gyeongsangnam-do Arboretum.

채이 insisted on being in every single picture I took during this outing. The girl cries when she can't wear her ballet clothes to bed - I didn't want to find out what would happen if I pushed her out of the way.

Maybe the most conventionally artistic picture I've ever taken.

Cherry blossom trees across from my apartment.