In which the author is zapped into introspection by the +4 Cattle Prod of Culture Shock

Well, okay, so the culture difference has mostly manifested in ways that I find wryly amusing rather than shocking, but the reference was just lying there, like an adorable baby seal, gazing up mournfully as the desire to be used swam in its bottomless, metaphorical liquid eyes... Ahem. Right. Impressions.

I realize this is not a revelation for most of you, but hey, guys, I'm white. Growing up in the US, that means I'm like a lot of people, the majority, even. Same holds for the traveling I've done with my family to Western Europe and Australia. For those playing the home game, Korea is one of the most ethnically and culturally homogeneous countries in the world, and the genes that are homo, they are not white. Now, I'm used to being taller and bigger than lots of people, but I am absolutely not used to being constantly aware that my face is singing the, "one of these things is not like the others" song. Loudly. I don't mean to say that people have been cruel or even unkind to me based on my race, because they haven't. If anything, I feel interested in. It's not mean at all, but it is draining. For the first time in my life (and oh, what a lucky person I have been to be able to say this!), completely unrelated to weather or fashion, I was relieved to put on a hat.

The next thing that struck me, personally, (in a bit of a prideful place I admit), was the language. I've never traveled to a place with a language completely and totally divorced from my own, or which I had not studied before arriving. I think the lesson I've learned here is that immersion is super cool for cementing existing language knowledge, but it is like getting hit with a cement truck if you start from nothing. I can read Korean characters/letters, but that just means I can sound them out. I have no idea what I'm saying, unless it's on a menu and has a convenient little picture. I'd hoped what little I have learned to elucidate the structure more, but "verbs at the end" doesn't help as much as you'd think. Oh, I can order food and buy things as well as the next person (well, as well as the next ex-pat), but in any novel situation, I would be at the mercy of fate. I have never felt so isolated, so linguistically vulnerable. Needless to say, I am on the lookout for a Korean class.

That makes me think about my situation, and how there others fare in a similar one. I came to this country because I needed a job. I had other options, but this one fit the bill of both my needs and preferences. I could have, had I tried harder, become more familiar with the language before leaving (not terribly much, but a bit), and I have some resources that will, hopefully, lead to my learning it while here. I had and have choices, and I still feel incredibly ostracized. How much worse it must be, then, for people who have neither choices nor resources, who come to a country because they need to, and have no way of making it their own. Even in the social enclave of the other teachers at my school, I am always aware of the island of English on which I live, and its boundaries. Being linguistically dependent on such a small fraction of people is crippling. It influences where I can go, when I can go there, with whom... It's like having really strict parents (something I, of course, know nothing about). You know the other kids are out there, having fun, but you can't go. It's... kind of lonely, boys and girls. It's an argument for expanding your language horizons, for sure.

Still, my floating isle is a good place to be. Daejeon is a feast for the eyes, particularly at night (to the tune of so many signs that epileptics would be in real trouble), and oh my God the food! The city is exploding with food. P and I made a deal: no restaurant repeats for the two weeks he is here. Sticking to that is not even a challenge, dear readers. I could go two months before distance substantially affected my dining, and then it would be distance, not availability, that stumped me. There are bakeries all over the place, and they make coffee buns. For those not in the know (and I wasn't before I got here) coffee buns are the closest physical manifestation to Plato's ideal form of delicious. Come visit me, we'll go to Rotiboy and get a couple. For more savory dishes, close your eyes, spin around in the street and when you stop, simply walk forward, and you will find food. Fried things, grilled things, boiled things... all with the requisite kimchi side dish, many seafood-y, pretty much uniformly tasty (though a few stand out as particularly phenomenal). Also, I have had a revelation: spicy is good. Korea has this kind of sweet-spicy thing going on, which is worth exploring to its fullest extent. So come visit. My tasty Korean food, let me show you it.

Anyway, I have to go make some photocopies for my next class and swig some Coke so I can stay awake the whole time. Next chapter: The Hagwon (Language School).