Exercising, punishment and Buddhism (My week in a nutshell)

I've been in South Korea for almost one month. Sometimes it's hard to believe the level of comfort with which I get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, slipping on the bathroom shoes as if I've been doing it my whole life. The embarrassment of not speaking Korean has faded, and I've worked up the gumption to walk into local coffee shops, markets and banks by myself, communicating through a series of nods, sign language and broken Konglish.

Actually, I've regained a degree of independence. My host parents were gone one morning this week for some kind of conference in Gumi, and I made my own breakfast! I even washed the dishes and served myself curry rice for lunch. Now I feel the freedom to open the refrigerator for a glass of milk without asking permission.

On Monday, I finally received my identity card from the office of immigrations, and I got a cell phone. To tell the truth, I made the purchase for the Korean-English dictionary built into the phone rather than because of the phone itself. Electronic dictionaries are more than $100 otherwise. But I know it makes everyone feel more at ease to know they have a way of reaching me if I should get lost.

Exercising

My life has slowed down considerably since the end of English camp, and it's almost like I don't know what to do with myself. I like it. I finally had the chance to exercise this week in the morning.

Mountain climbing is a popular hobby near Daegu, but I think the series of steep hills I hiked this week would fall short of what I call a mountain. However, the hike was strenuous enough that I broke a sweat and had to catch my breath several times.

On Tuesday, Emma and Hyunsuk came along and showed me the way. I discovered we had pretty different plans for the outing. I wanted to raise my heart rate, and they wanted to stroll through the forest, chatting with one another. "Kaja! Bali-bali" I kept saying. "Let's go! Hurry, hurry!" I didn't want to be rude, but I wasn't going to let the relational obligation, which would be lost in translation anyway, hinder my workout. They were there for me anyway, so I guess I thought a little coaching wouldn't hurt. They laughed at my Korean attempt the way Americans laugh at a rough accent from a foreigner.

On Wednesday, Hyunsuk and I went together, and by Friday, I was alone in my hike. Haha! I didn't mind though. I learned the Korean words "up" and "down" during my hike with Hyunsuk, but on Friday, I enjoyed the silence, even if I got a little lost along the way. At the top of each hill, there is a work out station with several pieces of equipment. As people hike, they can stop and do some crunches, bench press at low intervals, do pull-ups, or hula-hoop. I'm yet to see a hiker use the equipment for anything but a resting place.

I hope to make it to the health center soon. Part of the delay was due to my lack of exclusively-indoor tennis shoes--a Korean custom for health clubs. My tennis shoes were clearly and visibly not that. In fact, the sole of my shoe has worn down so much that I can stick my finger through it. So I purchased some Puma's on sale this week.

Corporal Punishment

Meanwhile, classes are going well! I'm starting to remember their names. Many of the English camp students are now showing up in my regular afternoon and evening classes. When I don't have to deal with behavioral problems, then I really enjoy my classes. Forrest taught me "Jing Jing dae ji ma" meaning "Don't complain" in Korean. The students laugh when I say this, and it usually works!

Corporal punishment is more acceptable in Korea. Kimchihey told me that about ten years ago, it was okay for a teacher to slap a student in the face if they misbehaved. Now, of course they cannot be that harsh. However, Justin encouraged me to punish students who don't do their homework. He recommended having the students do push ups or count to fifty in English--a slight embarrassment to add a flame to my fire as a teacher.

I tried this week to have a student count to thirty in English. One girl started to cry, and I felt terrible. I patted her on the back and asked her to sit down before she reached twenty. I saw myself in her. As a student, I would already be bruised by the guilt of having not completed my homework, and a punishment would only add insult to injury. Another girl laughed as I observed her form during ten push-ups. Both of the students did their homework for the rest of the week, though. Other students have been less visibly sensitive, and in general, I think it's helping them to take me seriously. But I still feel like a jerk sometimes.

Eunhasa Temple

Today, I went to Eunhasa Temple with Emma. (My batteries ran out, so I didn't take any pictures. Sorry!) I felt nervous about it before, but it was a tourist attraction sort of temple. A Buddhist monk gave me a tour of the temple museum. I wish you could see his bald head, monk clothes and kind face! He was pretty funny, and actually, he was so unlike the solemn image I have in my head of Buddhist monks. He said the temple is famous, and many people from all around the world come to stay there and study Buddhism. One of the staff members was from Sri Lanka. (Eh, Sumudu?)

Evidently, some Buddhists do believe in heaven and hell. He explained that in this world, there are many opposites--hot and cold, high and low, fascinating and boring. So he assumes that heaven and hell exist. He showed me some artwork depicting famous Buddhist people who "saved" people from heaven or hell. Maybe he meant they took people to heaven or hell. I'm not sure. And I'm not sure how it works out with reincarnation either.

In the worship part of the temple, I noticed Korean women rising and bowing continuously in front of a big, gold Buddha. I watched one of the girls, who looked about twelve, stop to straighten her pants and catch her breath, and then resume the exercise. Emma said they are making a wish, and then they must bow 108 times to make it come true. The Buddhist monk clarified that each bow is for a different problem in life. Either way, it looked a bit strenuous... aerobic even. Impressive, maybe.

Other Notes

It's been a great week! But again, I'm looking forward to going to Dongshin Church and seeing some English-speaking friends tomorrow.

I thought about taking Korean classes, but Justin seems to think it's silly if I'm only going to be here seven more months. I feel eager to learn because I want to be able to talk with people more and be understood.

I finished The Kite Runner. I recommend it to anyone who is curious about Afghani culture. Though I have to be honest, I don't know how much of it is true. Then again, it's written by an Afghani to an American audience. I can't imagine he would want to fabricate much past the point of the fictional story line.

I suppose I'll continue reading Love and Respect now, although it might be a touch less exciting. More reflective, I suppose.

A Weekend Reunion in Seoul

Last weekend I reunited with some Korean friends I knew from UNI. The trip had been planned before I left for Korea, and the timing was important because my travel buff friend, Hong, is leaving on Friday for Finland.

I had a bus mishap on the way home from Daegu a while ago. (I took the wrong bus and wound up riding the public transportation for about two hours.) So my host family, and especially my host mom, was very worried about me going to Seoul. She spoke with my friend, Juyoung, several times on the phone about the transfer I would take in Hayang on the way back and about the other arrangements. But on Saturday morning, they graciously greeted me with a plate full of sushi for breakfast and a ride to KyungSan Station, where I would take the subway to Seoul.

It was so surreal and dream-like to be in the capital city of South Korea with people I'd seen and spent time with in the United States. I found Juyoung with about three more inches of pony tail and dressed in a mini stirrup-skirt, a style which seems to be popular in Korea. Jackson, or Jea Jun Yoo, met us in the bus station as well. He left the U.S. only days after I did.

First, we went to Insadong--a tourist shopping spot with plenty of Asian-style fans, flutes, and traditional garb. I paid 3,000 won ($3) to try on a traditional Korean dress for ten minutes. (Gotta live it up sometimes.) For lunch, we ate a cold noodle soup with pear slices called nayng mo mil. The shopping was OK, but what I really enjoyed was chatting about my "firsts" in Korea, voicing my impressions to welcoming Korean ears who remember what first times can be like in a foreign country. They wanted to know what foods I'd tried and liked or disliked. They wanted to know what I thought of the showers and how classes were going. They were curious about my host family. I had a new curiosity and sensitivity about their firsts in the United States.

Most of the afternoon was spent walking around one of the most famous land marks in Seoul--Gyeong Bok Gong palace. The history was great, especially the king's throne room, but again the company trumped the learning experience. I enjoyed taking pictures around the palace and joking with Ju and Jackson about Ju's desire to live in the palace as a princess.

As we left the palace courtyard, we thought of other people in Korea I might know, and we arranged to meet them in Myeong Dong. According to Ju, Myeong Dong is the hip, cool place, where young people hang out in Seoul. So true. Myeong Dong was hopping at about 7 p.m. on Saturday. Kiosks filled the narrowish streets between strip malls of boutiques, department stores, coffee shops and bars. Pedestrians had to dodge each other like football players in order to make it from one block to the next. I bought a couple pairs of cheap earrings at a cheap earring stand, and we escaped the crowd in a Tous Les Jours. For the first time, I tried a popular Asian treat that I cringed at before--Red bean and ice. (It's so unusual in the U.S. to use beans for a sweet treat. It's pretty normal in Korea.)Our dish was topped with green tea ice cream and almonds. It looked like an ice cream dish at first, but a sloshy ice burg rested underneath the mint-colored scoops. When Jackson mixed all the parts together, it was like a glorious dessert soup with beans, cream, nuts and cold, ice water. Delicious! I will request it for my birthday.

We met Bill (or Jungho, a Korean friend) and James Combs-lay (a UNI student whose student teaching in Seoul) at a nice-ish place for beer and hors d'ouerves. Like the U.S., drinking is kind of taboo among Christians. So I didn't figure my host family would offer me any chances to sample Korean beer. Truth be told: it pretty much tasted like any old beer.

Again, it was such a joy to be with my friends in their home country. After the small meal, Bill led the way to a No-Rae-Bang or singing room for some karaoke. No need to mention the songs we performed in that little room, I'll leave it for the acoustic walls to tell. The first forty minutes was pretty fun and entertaining, but after too many dramatic ballads, my eyes began to feel heavy and my legs hungered for a permanent resting place. We said goodnight, and Ju and I took the subway back to her apartment for the night.

On Sunday, we slept in and adjusted our afternoon plans to attend a 12 o'clock English service at the "Church of Love" in Seoul. Denise told me on Monday that the church is famous and one of the biggest in South Korea. We met Hong after church in Upga-Jong for another cold noodle lunch and a walk in the park. Being with Hong and Ju reminds me why it's fun to travel, even if it's sometimes lonely and difficult.

Ju helped me board the train for Jilyang at 6:30 p.m., and I read "The Kite Runner" the whole way back. It was a wonderful weekend!

Six blind men and one spiritual skeptic

Today was the final day of English Camp. Last night, the children performed plays they'd been working on in Drama Class. The younger children performed "The Enormous Turnip" and "The Shoemaker and the Elves." The older children performed "Six Blind Men and the Elephant." They also performed several songs including Mama Mia, Do-Re-Mi, and Edelweiss. I thought you might be interested in hearing this recording from our dress

rehearsal. I'm sorry the picture is not very good.

I experienced a bit of a flashback as I watched "The Six Blind Men and the Elephant." I remember that someone once told me the story is an allegory for universalism. Six blind men try to "see" an elephant by feeling it's parts, and none of them see the whole picture. One blind man feels his tail and says an elephant is like a rope. Blind man number two feels his legs and says an elephant is like a tree trunk. Blind man number three feels his hard body and says he is like a brick. Another feels his ears and says he is like a fan. Another blind man feels his tusk and says an elephant is like a spear. The last blind man feels the elephant's trunk and says the elephant is like a snake.

At the end of the play, all the children yell, "We are all wrong! We are all right!" At Summit, I learned that this is literature's way of telling us that all religions have some parts of the puzzle right and some parts wrong, but there is no way to know because we are all blind. As a follower of Jesus, we can't believe that because Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. But I do believe I have a lot to learn about Jesus.

God gave me the grace to desire his word today, and his grace was on me as I taught classes this afternoon and evening. When I came home, I walked up the church stairs past the sanctuary where a worship service was in session. I heard a woman wailing and swaying to "There is none like you," and Moxanim muttering some kind of prayer from the pulpit that sounded like an auctioneer doing his work. I've seen him do this before, but for some reason tonight, I felt God lead me into the Sanctuary to get a closer look. I planned to observe only. After all, I really didn't know how to participate in this free style of worship. To my left, Hyunsuk sat in her pew and swayed to the rhythm of the spirit. She looked....like she was in a trance. The prayer/worship/trance seemed long. Kimjimin and Kimminwoo got up to leave, and I got up with them, but Jimin told me to wait for Moxanim to pray a blessing on me. I don't want a blessing from the minister. I have enough blessings already, I thought. I don't know about this. Doesn't only God give blessings?

But I sat back down, waiting for God to release the need in my heart to be there in that room for the remainder of the service. I thought of Nick, who might be upstairs trying to talk to me on Skype. I thought of a brief conversation with my coworker Patrick, who said he was too lazy to be religious. I thought of my understanding of God's purpose for my trip here: a honeymoon with Him.

Moxanim prayed over a woman in a pew just a few rows in front of mine. He put his hand on her head, and "auctioned" as she coughed and coughed. With her coughs, Moxanim spoke louder and stronger. I furrowed my brow, feeling the strain on my forehead. What is he doing? I was afraid he was hypnotizing her, exercising some kind of ungodly control over the people in the room. I wanted to leave. The woman continued to hack into a tissue, and Moxanim reached for a roll of toilet paper for more. (Koreans use toilet paper a lot, but not for the bathroom.) I didn't know if I wanted him to pray for me or not. Did she just fake that cough? It seems like she's trying. I thought of Jesus words to the unbelieving viewers who always asked for more signs. Yea, but he's not Jesus. Didn't Paul say something about desiring the "greater" gifts while keeping love "the greatest of these" at bay? I couldn't deny the abundance of love I felt from the Kim family, even if I did struggle with the culture differences.

Hyunsuk joined me in the center pew and translated some of his words with the Korean-English dictionary tool in her cell phone. "The precious blood of Jesus." "Holy Ghost." "Prayer, blessing." She tried to catch his eye as he switched from one recipient to another. She tried to explain that he would pray for me. I asked if she could just pray for me, and she said no. I wondered why. Was it a headship thing? Or was it just a minister thing? I told her maybe I wasn't ready to be blessed. She asked why. I had to think about it, I replied.

She gave me the most puzzled look I've ever seen her make. "Think?" she asked. "No...just..." Hyunsuk held her hands out and closed her eyes as if she were waiting to receive a gift from God, demonstrating to me the sort of pose I should assume. I became emotional...

I was scared. I was afraid. I thought of the times people were so afraid of Jesus that they sent him away. Maybe Christianity is supposed to be a little more like this. A little less stoic or intellectual. A little more...scary. He prayed for me and moved my head in a circular motion as he did. It bothered me, to be honest. Was he moved by the spirit or trying to exercise control over me?

Afterward, Hyunsuk got emotional. She used her dictionary to tell me that through Jesus she could feel my heart and it was sometimes...the dictionary said "stuffy, closed." Maybe she is right.

I think that if Jesus is the elephant, then it's possible there are parts of him I've not let myself see. Ok...that might be a rough analogy. I'm glad English Camp is over. I plan to spend this weekend with some Korean friends I know through CIEP.

Managing the classroom

I like class to be fun. Or if not fun than at least bearable. But the truth is students...kids...complain. Some of them complain no matter what task you are asking them to complete. Most of the time I can't hear the student's exact complaint because it's spoken in Korean, but I can tell when a student is whining. Whining is the same in Korean as it is in English.

Some of my classes handle games or fun activities better than others. If there is one thing that irks a smart little girl off, it's getting paired up or put in the same group with a boy that she thinks is stupid or annoying. I may not hear the complaint, but when I fetch a translator, I find out shortly why the stubborn child, who was otherwise compliant, refuses to move from her nine-year-old desk. And the boy is not short on reactions. Sometimes he gets mad and sits down in his chair just as stubbornly. Another time, he refused to move from his chair when he was paired with a smaller boy he thought was less smart. (I don't pair them this way on purpose. I just number them off.)

During my first week, I tried a game that I'd seen Chris model, where I say a word or ask a question and students must race to the board to write the word faster than the other team. Usually, it goes very well, and the students leave with a smile on their face and a "Sally-teacher-is-great" look in their eyes. (At least, that's what I think their peepers are saying.) As a teacher, I leave satisfied because I know the students actually practiced their vocabulary and increased their learning speed for the sake of the competition. But one time, the game ended when a fight broke out between a girl and a boy. I don't know what happened, but the sight of the boy yelling back at the girl and reenacting a harsh gesture with his knee told me that someone kicked someone in the crotch. From the looks of it, she had kicked him. I broke apart the fight and ended the game, warning them that if they couldn't play fairly then we wouldn't play games in class. (It must have worked because I haven't seen a fight in this class since then.)

I tried to remember: At what age did I learn it was inappropriate to hit people? Honestly, I don't remember ever being a violent child of any sort. (Correct me if I'm wrong, Mom and Dad.) Probably because I had bigger brothers who would overpower me if I ever tested my physical strength at home. I had my vocal chords, though, and I used them. These students use them, too! Especially the girls. I don't know why. But if I can get them to yell back when I say "Repeat after me!" then that's a good thing. It helps me to know they're awake and engaged.

Yesterday, Justin, my boss, mentioned that I would have a harder time managing the classroom than I would teaching the material. (I think he peeked in one of the windows during a difficult class.) He hit the nail on the head. I like the teaching part, but the classroom management part gives me a head ache. It's too bad one precedes the other.

I want to have fun, but also to listen and learn. Some of the most valuable Korean words I've learned are "Quiet," "Listen," and "Again." How can I gently remind them of my authority? I gave a quiz in one of my classes, and they already take me more seriously, I think.

If you think about it, when an instructor gives a quiz, it's a teacher test, too. It measures how much they taught as well as how much the students learned. To some extent, if students didn't learn, then the teacher didn't teach. I understand the value of the grading curve now.

There are two more days of English camp. Then all of my mornings will be free, and I will have more time to focus on my afternoon classes.

Gyeong-Ju and Dongshin Church

Things seem to be looking up for me here in South Korea, although my perspective seems constantly mixed. This weekend made a big difference.

My trip to Gyeong-Ju was relaxing and informative. When we approached the city limits, I noticed the traffic and the South Korean flags lining the streets. AhmJi, Emma's daughter, told me that Saturday was Kwangbukjar or Korean Independence Day. On Kwangbukjar, they recognize Korean independence from Japanese colonization. (I found it quite ironic that they were selling Japanese-style umbrellas on the sidewalk, which I purchased for 4,000 won or 4 dollars. I thought I was buying a Korean souvenir until AhmJi told me otherwise.)

First, we visited the tomb of the King of Silla, the ancient name of the region I live in. Then we ate a delicious lunch (in my opinion) of sam-bob, which is kind of like a Korean-style, build-your-own-lettuce sandwich. (Sam means lettuce. Bob means rice.) I was a pretty big fan of the fish. Then we visited a national history museum of Korea, where I took an English tour with AhmJi. An older Korean lady told me all about the history of the Silla kingdom and showed me artifacts from Korean tombs--their primary source of artifacts. Afterward, we went to the famous Emilay Jong (Read below.). Here are a few things I found intriguing:

• Before the onset of Buddhism in Korea, Shamanism was the most popular religion, which included a belief in the spiritual nature of rocks and trees as well as spiritual communication with ancestors. Koreans used to bury many items with a person's body, so they wouldn't be empty-handed when they rose. At one point, Koreans buried other people alive to keep the dead company.
• When Koreans bury the dead, they put a little mound over the person's body, like a small hill instead of a tombstone.
• The Korean character system is actually only a few hundred years old. In ancient Korea, they used the Chinese character system. Then the king of Silla decided it was unfair to use the Chinese character system because only the rich were able to learn it. He decided to create an alphabet for the people, rich and poor.
• Korea, as well as a lot of Asia, believe in the animal calendar. (You know. The year of the cow. The year of the horse.) But they also have animal representations for days of the week and times of the day. When Koreans get married, they often visit a fortune teller or someone who can gather the animal reps from each individuals year, day and time of birth and study their implications to determine compatibility.
• There is a famous myth about Emilay Jong, the giant bell. People say the king burned babies to produce the fire necessary to create the bell. They say he did this because it would make the ring sound sweeter. My tour guide clarified that this is just a myth as there is no written record for it and the story seems highly unlikely during a Buddhist era. She said the myth probably came about this way. Buddhist monks went from house to house requesting money to finish the bell, which was constructed throughout the reign of several rulers. At one point, a monk approached a house where a woman said she had nothing to give but could offer her child.

Finally, we went to a lotus field. The exotic beauty of the lotus stunned me during the ride to Gyeong-Ju, so Emma made sure I had a chance to see them up close. She actually picked one for me to sink in water and watch bloom, but bud hasn't budged yet. I'll let you know.

On Sunday, I went to Dongshin Presbyterian Church in Daegu. Much to my host mom's worry, I rode the public bus to the church by myself, which is about an hour from Jilyoung. The large church has an English service at 2 p.m., and I've never felt as blessed to praise the Lord in English than I felt yesterday morning. It was also incredibly refreshing to meet so many other teachers who have been through the exact same ebb and flow of excitement and frustration that a foreigner feels during their first two weeks away from home. They were so kind, and I was invited to be part of a women's Bible study on Friday nights. I spent all afternoon with them, attending a church picnic in the park with hotdogs and hamburgers, believe it or not!

God is so faithful. I think attending this church will not only help quench my spiritual thirst, it will also give me an opportunity each weekend to be independent. It will quench my American thirst. (Actually, I sort of got lost on the way back to Jily0ung--Hyunsuk's exact fear, but I didn't care too much because my heart needs had been met.)

Teaching success and girl time

My first small, but true teaching success happened this evening between 8 and 10 p.m. (Koreans study late even on Friday nights.) I had a one-on-one appointment with Kim Ji Su, the girl in the picture, who is just learning to read. She understands phonics enough to read, but her comprehension is very low. She is also incredibly shy and seems nervous, so our two hours together require patience and painstaking perseverance.

Tonight, we read two short paragraphs about musical instruments and completed a number of multiple choice questions to evaluate comprehension and vocabulary. She missed nearly every question of the reading comprehension before I discovered the reason: she simply didn't know the meaning of about 80 percent of the words she was reading. Most of her answers were guesses. After looking up a dozen words in my (actually, fairly lame) Korean-English dictionary and struggling through the first page of questions, I decided we should slow down and just focus on vocabulary. So we created flash cards with the English word on one side and the Korean word and a small picture on the other. I drilled her a few times on eight of the major vocabulary words. We finished the session with another fill-in-the-blank activity, and she aced it! I felt so proud of her.

Sometimes I leave class feeling like a babysitter. Tonight I left feeling like a teacher.

Kimchihey, my Korean sister, had a late night class at the hogwan, too, so we walked home together. When I first saw her, I said "Hi Kimchi!" ("Kimchi" is spicy cabbage--a common Korean side dish.)

"Kimchi?" she questioned. I realized my mistake, and we both burst out in laughter.

"Am I food?" she asked. "Maybe you are 'Salad.'"

I laughed again. We were both pretty tired from the day.

Later, she asked me if I wanted to "do masks"--apply a rubber, cosmetic mask to my face--with her and Kimjimin. I layed down on the bed while she applied the mask. Then she took my picture, and when I reacted playfully, she said I looked kind of like a marshmallow. Haha! I couldn't argue with her. My face did resemble a marshmallow.

Psalm 68:6 says "God sets the lonely in families..." I don't know what that meant when it was written, but I know how it applies me now, and I know why I stumbled across it the other night when I was discouraged. I'm so thankful for my Korean family.

Emma invited me to go with her to Gyeongju tomorrow--the former capital of Korea and one of the most popular tourist destinations. I can't wait to go! I'll try to take lots of pictures.

Culture shock, breakfast barriers, and teaching English

I took this picture from the back porch at the church/apartment I live in. My camera doesn't do the artwork justice.

This is me helping a student name Eun-young with a t-shirt painting activity yesterday. This girl and the girl in the back, Lily, are actually two of my favorite students. Those of you who are praying for me, please pray that I would memorize the student's names.

During my last semester of college, I took an Intercultural Communication class. We talked about culture shock: the honeymoon, negotiation and adjustment phases, which vary from person to person. I envisioned my honeymoon phase to be rather long because I have a natural fascination with other cultures. But actually, I feel like I've passed rather quickly into the negotiation stage. (Don't get me wrong. I still find some cultural differences endearing and fun. For example, I love the stout, little Asian cartoons used to advertise all kinds of products. They're so cute.)

One day, my boss and I went to the immigration office in Daegu to help me get an identity card. I was surprised, and shocked even, when he opened the back door and asked me to take a seat. He sat in the front, and I sat in the back for our afternoon errands. Is this normal? I wondered. I'm not sure. In all respects, he is a very kind man and has worked very hard to help me get adjusted. He even bought me a transformer for the computer I'm typing on. (Asian outlets are not like Western outlets.) But it was hard for me to understand why I would sit in the back seat and he in the front.

One woman who works at the English Clinic speaks very little English. She wants to learn just as much as I want to learn Korean. Yesterday, she said to me, through Denise's translations, that I was very pretty. She said I looked like a doll even. Then she said I needed to take better care of my skin. Today, she said my hair looked better up. Honestly, I wanted to say, "I don't know you very well. Please don't comment on my appearance anymore." I'm probably being too sensitive. But I don't think Koreans feel embarrassed by remarks on personal appearance like the way Americans do. I've heard stories much worse than this. Over Skype, Kimchihey told Nick right away that she thought he was handsome. Then again, maybe we do comment at first meeting occasionally, although only if it's positive.

Hyunsuk serves me all the time, and she doesn't accept my help for much of anything. Every morning, she serves me breakfast, which is rather heavy in Korea. They usually eat a bowl of rice with some kind of meat or vegetable and maybe some fruit. In an effort to meet my needs, the Kim family took me to Costco to buy breakfast foods I might like. We bought muffins, cereal and bagels as well as several other things for the family. This morning, she served me one plain bagel, homemade yogurt with jam, sliced tomatoes with honey drizzled on top, and a bowl of Campbell's New England Clam Chowder. She had served me the clam chowder for breakfast the day before, and I ate it, mostly out of politeness, but I was reticent this morning because I didn't want to send her the message that I'm crazy about clam chowder for my morning meal.

I told Denise, a Korean woman, at work that while I appreciated her preparations, I was hoping to have a little more freedom as far as what I would eat for breakfast. I hoped I would be able to pour myself a bowl of cereal in the morning, but I didn't want to step in her domain if that makes her uncomfortable. Not only was this less than ideal for me, I think it was causing an inconvenience for her and her children, whose presence at the breakfast table would then be requested at an earlier hour (for translation purposes, I think.) I asked Denise how I might approach the situation, and she said she would talk to Hyunsuk for me. "...More graciously" she said. But today, I couldn't handle all that was on my plate, and I didn't feel like pretending. I ate the bagel and the yogurt, then I explained that I couldn't eat the rest. I'm not used to eating so much for breakfast. I told her two things every morning is enough. Fruit and cereal. Or yogurt and a muffin. I think she took it well, but I was concerned, and I'm trying to be extremely polite in order to not hurt any feelings. Laughter and smiles through our attempts at communication keep me hoping our relationship is okay from both ends.

On one hand, it's nice to have a mom while I'm overseas. On the other hand, I guess it makes me realize that I like to do my own laundry and make my own breakfast. Strange. Isn't it?

Classes are going really well sometimes and not so well other times. I'm learning that the ESL market is...well, just that in Korea: a market, a business. A good class has to be a combination of learning and entertainment.

Chris explained it this way: Spend the first thirty minutes learning, whether it be reading or teaching new vocabulary words, etc. Then spend the rest of the time playing a game. If you end the class with a game, then that's what the students remember. The kids go home and tell mom and dad that they had fun in English class, and then mom and dad keep paying the bills. I kind of cringed when I first learned the truth about this, but it seems to work. Kids under the age of 13 only have about a 30 minute attention span anyway.

We play lots of games in class. Most of the time, we play hangman. In phonics classes, we play a game during which the students must jump in front of the "X" when they hear a particular sound in a familiar word. During English camp, we sometimes play spelling games during which students race to the white board to write a vocabulary word. Games, games, games. I need to take some time to search the internet for creative English-learning games. Let me know if you have any ideas, Tom and Forrest.

When a class goes well, then I feel pretty good, but other times I leave feeling disappointed in my on-the-spot togetherness. (I haven't had too much time to plan.) Jean was actually fairly impressed after watching me teach a phonics class the other day. My experience with international students has helped me develop a habit of using small words. Sometimes, the students love me. Some of the girls in my morning classes draw hearts next to my name on the board before I come in to teach. However, one student today used this message for a hangman round: "I am not happy because I study English." Yikes.

All in all, I think I will get the hang of it. I look forward to being able to put more time into it when English camp is over.

Mamy and friends

When I walk down the streets in Jinyoung, I notice I'm one of the only foreigners. People sometimes stare but not rudely so. They sometimes greet me with "Anyeoung Haseyeo," double-take at the sight of my skin, hair and eye color. Then, often after I've passed, they remember their little English vocabulary and code switch to "hello." I explored the block of shops and businesses yesterday for exercise. (When we finish the morning English camp, I would love to enroll in a taekwondo or yoga class. Also, Chris told me that the YMCA in Daegu offers Korean lessons on Saturdays. I might look into that as well. For now, I'm too busy.)

Yesterday, I went to church with the Kim family. Hyunsuk found me as soon as I came downstairs and made sure I had a hymnal with English, so I could follow along. Kimchihey helped me during the sermon. I couldn't understand anything, but their constant effort to help me understand brought tears to my eyes, which I tried to hide. I'm truly blessed.

Emma drove me to the hospital this afternoon, so I could have a check up and take blood tests necessary for an identity card. She doesn't speak very much English, and I don't speak very much Korean, so we speak very little when we're together. But I think she likes me or something because I've only been here for one week, and she has treated twice to coffee drinks.

When we stepped out of her vehicle at the hospital, I made a comment about the crazy-loud locust sound. The word is "mamy" in Korean, she told me. The check up was a blur of being pointed to and shuffled around for a wide variety of examinations. At one point, I had a difficult time understanding which articles of clothing I was supposed to take off and leave on for some kind of x-ray needed by the immigrations office. Pretty funny.

The time passed quickly, and we were back on the road to Jinyang and the English Clinic. As I was sitting in the front seat, letting the stimulation of my surroundings seep in, I noticed an unexpectedly, large insect feel its way on the dashboard, like a conductor tapping it's hairy leg to the sound of an inner rhythm. The locust was about the size of a chicken nugget. Remembering their roar, I pictured it attacking me if disturbed, so I pulled myself back against the car seat and sat tensely.

"Emma?" I said. And I tried to motion toward the giant bug without entering the bubble of air that might awaken attack-mode. I kept my distance as much as possible. Emma glanced over to the dash. "Do you see it?" I asked.

"O yea. It's ok," she said, dismissively. Her answer left me unsettled. Really? It's normal for nugget-sized locusts to hang out on the dashboard for vehicles in Korea. Well, maybe it's a cultural thing.

When we pulled over to grab some lunch, she told me to stay, and I told her I didn't want to stay with the bug. I motioned again and shuddered to show my nervousness. She gave another glance and saw it, too. She screamed. We both screamed. As opposed to my defensive tactic, Emma tried to disturb the creature, and I winced with every wack of her wallet. The mamy began it's fierce purr in spurts and huddled into the right corner of the dashboard near the rearview mirror. We both got out of the car, and laughing and shuddering, we somehow drove out the little beast.

Shared experiences pull people together no matter how separated they might feel otherwise. In Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner, my latest read, the dialogue between Amir and his father Baba changes when they go to the United States together. There may be conflict because of the move, but there is a sense of unity that didn't exist before. Moments like that one today make my adventure in Korea worthwhile.

To tell the truth, today was a tough day for me. It was fun, but at the end of the day, I longed for someone to speak to who may understand and relate to me. I haven't spoken to Nick in several days because he's gone on vacation and away from the technological medium of communication to which he never imagined he would reduce himself. (Just playing, Nick.)

I want to find a good friend. I accidentally met someone over Skype tonight. I know. It sounds weird and dangerous. Her name was Juyoung, and I thought she was an international student knew from Iowa, but when she asked if I was female, I discovered my mistake. I told her my situation anyway because she said she was living in Japan for the first time. I said I wanted to find some people my age. She said "age is not a problem in being a friend."

On one hand, I'd really like to meet some Americans my age. On the other hand, I think I need to redefine my qualifications for "friend."

Living space, Korean culture, and "I understand"

My Grandma Hester requested that I write about the place I live in. Good question! I don't know why I didn't think of that. When you first arrive, there are so many different and unique experiences to write about that it is difficult to choose. I live in a small town called Jilyang. The English Clinic or hogwan, as they call it, has two locations: one in Jilyang and one in Hyang, another small town just five minutes away by car. Jilyang is definitely a small town. Children walk around by themselves at night.

The apa (father in Korean) of my host stay family is a moxanim (minister), so I actually live on the top floor of a church! It is a one story apartment with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a porch with a nice view of Jilyang, which they use to hang clothes out to dry. I have my own bedroom! The middle child, Kimjimin, gave up her room with a bed for me to sleep on. She sleeps in her parents room. I don't think I would have minded sleeping on the floor like the rest of the family, but I did not refuse their hospitality. (We slept on the floor in Indonesia, and I slept very well.) The room is pink and very girly. The wallpaper is a tan color with peach and pink floral design. The desk has pink colored drawers with heart-shaped handles. The bed cover is pink with hearts and little blonde, pig-tailed girls and the english sentences: "I had to meet you here today. There's just so many things to say." English phrases are very popular, however, they are often jumbled with incorrect grammar. It's fairly humorous actually. Yesterday, Moxanim showed me their pet rabbits. When I asked their names, he said they didn't have names but joked..."number one, number two, number three, number four."

Here are some interesting parts of Korean culture:

• The towel used to dry off after a shower is the size of a hand towel. Actually, my whole first shower here is an experience worth writing about. I made an absolute mess in the bathroom. It still makes me laugh just thinking about it. They have a smallish- sized tub and a movable shower head. I didn't see the place where you could lock it into the wall, so I shampooed with my left hand and rinsed with the shower head in my right hand, and getting water all over the bathroom. Luckily...
• They have drains in the middle of the bathroom. So any water on the floor drains out. I think this is a brilliant idea that Americans should adopt. Floor drains would be useful for when our toilets overflow or for when we need to clean the bathroom floor.
• One more thing about bathrooms: You need special bathroom sandals to enter. I think the purpose of these is cleanliness. In many ways, I think Asian-style bathrooms are smarter than American-style bathrooms.
• Koreans, or at least the Kim family, have a big closet at the entrance of the apartment for shoes. You never walk around inside with your shoes on.
• Yesterday, I went to Costco in Taegu with my "family." On the way, I saw several stores where two girls in mini skirts stood on platforms outside, dancing and shouting. Kimchihey explained that they were advertising the store. "Come and see! We have this and this!" Isn't that interesting and funny?
• They also use speakers on the outside of vehicles to advertise. Companies pay for speaker advertising, and the advertising company drives vans around town to tell about new products. Chris explained this one to me when I was distracted during class by the sounds of one from a nearby window.

That's all for now, although I'm sure there are a dozen cultural differences I'm skipping.

Yesterday was lots of fun. I went to the market and a dollar store in Hyang with Jean and Emma in the afternoon. In the evening, my family ushered me around Costco, and I felt like a friendly freak-of-nature as they tried many food samples on me around the store. After every sample, they would examine my face and ask me, "Is it delicious to you?" I would either nod and say, "mashasoyo," meaning "delicious" or shake my head or say, "it's ok." The Kim family is working very hard to please me.

During much of the day, I wanted to say, "I understand the inner conflict you may be feeling. I know what it's like to entertain a foreigner." I remember feeding international students and hoping the food was edible by their standards, often to my dismay. I remember wanting to help, but needing to establish boundaries between my personal life and my availability for them. I remember feeling guilty once for wanting to maintain a personal appointment rather than take a student to the bank after we'd already spent the afternoon driving to Cedar Falls from the airport and getting her settled in her dorm.

As a welcomer, my desire was for the need to be met, but I was not always available to take a student to Walmart or to go look at cell phones. I think Jean and Emma might have had similar feelings yesterday. They may have volunteered their time, but secretly wished for a break from the exhaustion of the week. And I wouldn't be surprised if my family thought more than once, "Why doesn't she like that flavor? She only ate half of the bowl, drank half of the cup, or finished half of the plate." I have to choose my communication carefully. I do like some Korean food. I want them to understand that. Just because I don't finish that bowl of brown, lumpy soup does not mean I hate it and will never eat it again. Sometimes I'm just full, or I prefer one side dish to another.

Anyway, my friends and family have been very gracious to me, and I'm thankful. I wish I could tell them that I understand. I understand what it's like to help and entertain a foreigner.

Family, food, faith and classroom fun

My host family includes a mother, father and three children (two girls and a boy.) On the first evening, the father asked me to call him "moxanim" meaning minister. He asked me to call his wife "hyunsuk," which means "wife of noble character" as in Proverbs 31. The oldest daughter, Kimchihey, is about 18 years old and speaks English fairly well. She goes to school from 7:30ish until about 5, and then again at 8 p.m. for math. Korean children are much more studious than American children. Although, I believe the parents and the school system has a lot to do with this. (They're not naturally more studious.) The second oldest daughter, Kimjimin, is about 15 years old and also speaks some English. The third child and son, Kiminwoo, is 13 years old. Korean children use their surname when they introduce themselves. In this case: Kim. Today, a child in one of my classes said my Korean name should be Kimsally. I thought that was pretty clever.

I always considered myself an adventurous eater, but I have to admit the food will take some time to get used to. I even told some of you that I wasn't worried about this part. I really like kimchi and bulgolgi and several other common Korean foods, but eating rice at every meal is a little bit hard on my digestive system. Sometimes my appetite is not at all aroused by what is in front of me. I realized that eating international food every once in a while is different from eating it all of the time. But I think I will adjust. Food is an adventure. (This evening I ate crunchy, spicy, baby crabs as a side dish at a restaurant. Hehe!)

A stomach ache convinced me to try my first Korean sentence on Hyunsuk, lest I invite more trouble for my body. "Yeogiga Apayo." It hurts here, I said. Then I explained that for "achim siksa" (breakfast,) I would need a something light. (This was not with any sort of fluency of course, but with long pauses as I fumbled through a Korean-English pocket dictionary.) I took pride in my first attempt to communicate with her language, but hoped sincerely that I didn't lead her to feel bad about all the beautiful meals she has prepared so far.

A few minutes later, Hyunsuk relayed the story to Maxonim. He prayed over my belly. Though I couldn't understand the words, I could sense sincerity in his prayer. And my pain was taken care of. I'm impressed by his faith in God. On Sunday, I will attend their church.

Today was my first day to teach a class. I taught a few "science" classes. In the first class, we read about "resources" and "woodland habitats." Then we reviewed the terms they had learned so far and played a game during which I defined the term and a person from each team would run up to the board to write the correct term as fast as they could. I think the reading made them feel bored, but the game woke them up.

In the next class, I introduced myself and drew a picture of the United States (well, sort of) with a small box to represent Iowa. We read about the cycle of life for a frog, which consists of three steps: 1. frogs, 2. eggs, and 3. tadpoles. The students then drew frogs, eggs and tadpoles with arrows to demonstrate the direction of the cycle. They had fun with the drawings. One girl drew two tadpoles with a heart in between them. It looked pretty funny! Aren't tadpoles too young to be falling in love?

This evening I observed a guy name Chris. He is a Canadian, but has lived and taught in Korea for seven years and married a Korean woman. Chris really put me at ease about teaching. If I even become half...no...even one third as good as Chris is at teaching, then I will consider my time here a true accomplishment.

I left my house today at 8:45 a.m. and returned at 8:30 p.m., so I'm pretty tired. Tomorrow is Saturday! I will sleep as late as possible. Then in the afternoon, Jean, my boss' wife, and Emma, one of the managers, will take me shopping.

So far, so good

My friend and former roommate, Nicole, got married on Saturday. She spent the summer counting down the dates until her wedding--the pinnacle of her summer excitement and one of the most important days in her life. My big upcoming event has been this trip to South Korea, but I couldn’t of told you how many days I had left if you’d asked me last week. Yet April 4th was the date. I knew it was coming. Here it is.

Saying goodbye has never been really hard for me. I never got homesick during summer camp. When my parents dropped me off at college, I was hungry for freedom and said so long with gladness. But I surprised myself this time. My moments of weepy goodbye came suddenly--not with the readiness of anticipation but unplanned, unscripted and unbridled. I cried as I left my office in Baker Hall, having finished my final CIEP activity. My tears surprised me during a closer-than-usual embrace with my mom. They brimmed after playfully joking with my fiance when I began to realize what the absence of his light-hearted banter would be like, and they flowed again during a slow dance to Ben Fold’s “The Luckiest” at Nicole’s wedding. Finally, my tears poured out during a goodbye kiss with my future husband. I waved goodbye more than once in between stifled sobs and boarded my first plane.

The first flight from Cedar Rapids to Chicago was fairly serene. A brown butterfly flew in the plane as the aircraft left the terminal and landed on the window by my seat. The dull beauty rested there for about 30 minutes without moving. I honestly wondered if God sent me the creature to help me feel a little less lonely for the first leg of the trip, to remind me He is there.

A friendly flight attendant commented on the view of Chicago with dot cars and toothpick airplanes. She asked me where I was headed after we landed and relieved me of wondering who I might approach for help in the business of O’Hare Airport. It turned out I needed to take a shuttle bus to a separate concourse. I was glad she asked. Thank you, God.

I reached the gate for my next flight to Narita Airport in Tokyo and confirmed the three hour delay. Sitting down to contemplate my next move, I soon noticed two Asians across from me and, having recognized Korean characters on a piece of clothing, asked if they were, by any chance, Korean. Carol and Brady (their English names) were actually Chinese teachers. They were returning to China after teaching Mandarin at KU for two years. I told them about my plans to teach in South Korea, and they lit up. I asked Carol about her impression of American students, and her answer didn’t surprise me: “Kind of lazy.” The conversation energized me and made me feel right at home. I realized I was one of the only Caucasian females in the waiting area.

A Korean girl named SooChung, who spoke a little English, asked to borrow my cell phone, so she could make follow up plans in response to the delay. I hope Koreans in Incheon Airport will lend me the same grace. If things keep going the way they are, then I’m sure someone will help me gladly. I’m actually happy about the delay and the single-serving friends I made at O’Hare Gate C16. Thank you, God.

By the way...I’m not sure why so many people complain about airline food. For dinner, I ate orange chicken with rice and vegetables, a side salad with sesame ginger dressing, a warm roll and an “oatmeal chewie.” Yum. So far, so good.

Things to Do During a Thirteen-hour Flight

1. Talk to the person next to you. The man next to me told me about his book “The World is Flat” and discussed the hardships of raising a nineteen-year-old daughter.
2. Put your hand next to the window for a while and watch it puff up due to the pressure. (I accidentally fell asleep this way and had to massage my hand back to normal size.)
3. Watch the movies. I actually didn’t find any interesting this time, but on the way to Singapore, each seat had an individual screen and a myriad of films from which to choose.
4. Eat the food. It seemed like we were always eating on that flight. See above for my opinion on airline food.
5. Read the United Airlines magazine and learn about upcoming services
6. Check out a variety of sleeping positions and discover which one works for you. This time I was blessed with a window on my left and an empty seat on my right, so sleeping wasn’t too bad.
7. Open the window cover every once in a while and remember that the low lighting is an attempt by the flight staff to create the illusion of night time for sleeping passengers. There is no night for those who chase the time zones.

This entry was written at several points during my journey, but I could only now pause to post it. I'm at my host family house, safe and sound. They're very nice, but that's a story for another time. Tomorrow will be my first day of work.

So far, so good.