Although I spent the day miming,* I did have a profitable and sociable outing to Daejeon's CostCo (I wouldn't have chosen to go today, but all the people I know with memberships were going, and I don't actually know how to get there by myself, so along I went). I finally found a reasonable duvet for my bed! Up til now, I was using two really chintzy twin comforters together, but now I have one that is nice, and with it I am well pleased. Also, I have enough canned tomatoes that I need never worry about being able to make pasta sauce again. Ever. The third marvel is that they had tortillas! I have had no Mexican food available to me since my arrival, neither in restaurants nor grocery stores, and I really like tacos and quesadillas, so I am very excited. Seeing as how it was CostCo, I am now the happy owner of 40 tortillas, and plan to have something of a party.
The last, glorious piece of the puzzle is BACON. Korea doesn't do bacon. They use the same part of the pig, it's very widely available, but they don't cure it. When you are lucky enough to get to a restaurant that has bacon on the menu, real bacon, they do not cook it properly, but leave it a floppy, anemic pink color that's so stomach-turning I have just stopped ordering it. I am, however, the ecstatic owner of two pounds of actual bacon. To be cooked, properly, by yours truly. VICTORY! (There will be no party this time. This is a private sacrifice of my arteries to the heathen piggy gods).
*I have something of a cold, in the same way the ocean has something of water, and it has totally stolen my voice away.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
And America is one step closer...
Being sick and working for Avalon is not a winning combination. Being sick and being in South Korea? Pretty awesome, actually.
I called my head teacher this morning, asking to see a doctor, and she told me to meet her at the school an hour early. Once there, she led me one block and around a corner to a clinic, where there was a form to fill out. A form. Like, just one. They ushered me down a hallway to a nice waiting room where I stayed for all of five minutes before seeing a doctor, which took perhaps ten minutes (and would have been even briefer if everything had not needed to be translated) as it was determined that I had no fever, so probably no bacterial infection, and I should mainline Sudafed (슈 다 펟 ) and Robitussin (or whatever it's called in Korean) and some other usually-OTC's for two days. The doctor explained that if I were still feeling bad after the two days and all the meds, I should return. I thanked him and we left, paying a whole $4.20 on the way out. Down the hall from there was the pharmacy, where we took the sheet the doctor had given me, gave it to the pharmacist, and a whopping two minutes and $3.60 later, I had meds for three days. No waiting, no consternation about coverage, just done.
I'm so impressed, it's almost okay that I have to work today.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Climbing over a rocky mountain
On Saturday, Avalon held its initiation rites for new teachers. (If I were any more sore today, I might be tempted to call it hazing, but that would just be the bitter buildup of acid in my muscles talking). At the ungodly hour of 10, those of us added last quarter and those of us new this quarter met at the school building and loaded into the bus that was to take us to our hiking destination.
Korea is a mountainous country, and it has been very lovely to see all that contoured scenery around the city.* The mountain we came to was so steep, our bus gave out and we walked the paved road up to where most people start. That paved road was nearly a sixty-degree angle (1/3 pi? Math people, help me out here), and it took us on a scenic tour of a nearby subsistence farm which chose that morning to fertilize.
Our hike was not off to an auspicious start, but at least it was not raining, as had been forecast. In fact, it was sunny and toasty, at 60-some-odd degrees, and most people shucked off their outer sweatshirt layers. (Our director and vice director were dressed like we were going to church, in button-down shirts and khakis which remained pristine all the way up and down again. I think it a strong possibility that they were actually specially designed hiking robots. Robots do not sweat).
The trail wound up and around the mountain, with a few stopping points and courteously provided stretching apparati. We started on a paved road, then moved to something more resembling a dirt road, still very wide and well-packed, but without a concrete layer. Then it was up through the trees, on something that was barely discernible as a path (indeed, if I hadn't been following people, I might not have known it was there at all) and was so steep it was more like wall-walking. (I may or may not have been singing the Spiderman theme song to myself. No one will ever know!) That led us to a high ridge with a better-defined, much narrower path, that left no room for error lest we be forced to invoke the dreaded "tail over teakettle" expression. Around gnarled trees and over the rocks of the ridge's spine we clomb (IT'S A WORD!) up to the very top, where there was a little pavilion.
As we went along, our little school of climbing fish wove in and out of itself, and I got to talk to several different people. Not just my campus, but the downstairs school and the other levels, including the English Library, were represented, and it was nice to get to know names and faces.
During the ascent, the weather slowly crept in around us. At first, it was a hazy softening of the contours below, which made for nice, watercolor-like photos (which I will get from someone who took them and post). It got progressively darker and windier as we hopped down the far side like a herd of gouty goats (it was a steep, very rocky trail down). We just beat the rain to the restaurant at the bottom of the trail, and got to sit and eat duck while it spattered the windows. We bonded over our shared grodiness.
I'm quite glad we did it, actually, despite the desperate need for a shower that followed.
*Seeing, it appears, is my preferred method of interaction with mountains, or so my knees have been informing me. I lived in the Midwest for four years before coming here. For those not aware, the Midwest is flat. Compared to Korea, the Midwest is flatter than the space between stars, where at least there is quantum fluctuation.
Addendum
I think there is something important missing from what I have said about the racist issue. I received an email gently chiding me for talking about my experience with it as though it were significant in the course of human events of the same nature.
I want to be very clear: in no way do I feel I have been grossly mishandled or maltreated to the same degree as all those who have truly suffered racism (accent on the suffered). To do so would smack of an entitlement I am ashamed to have been thought to possess. I feel, however, that grading racism will give far too much power to those who practice it, too much slippery slope of, "oh, that was only a little racist"*. So I say only "racism," and do not give it a degree. I thought that describing its context would be sufficient for the reader to understand I do not count myself a martyr, but if it is not, let me clarify. I think it is thoughtlessness acted out on race lines. I do not think this is particularly conscious, simply uncaring. It is not self-aware behavior.
I, of all people, support lexical clarity, and if there is a better word for this than "racism" I will use it happily, to avoid the misconception that I think of myself as suffering as victims of institutionalized racism and hate crimes have.
In short, as my friend said, " it's saying 'huh. this happened. it is racism. that is interesting! I am able to have this reflection because at home I am super privileged.'"
In short, as my friend said, " it's saying 'huh. this happened. it is racism. that is interesting! I am able to have this reflection because at home I am super privileged.'"
*Cue jokes about midget members of the KKK. Out of your system? Good.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Springtime for...
... people who are not me.
It's March, Daejeon. Get with the program!
It snowed yesterday. I feel personally betrayed. I have certain expectations when a place calls itself South Something-other-than-Dakota. Those expectations are for weather that is better than Chicago's. Korea, you're lettin' down the team, man.
It's March, Daejeon. Get with the program!
It snowed yesterday. I feel personally betrayed. I have certain expectations when a place calls itself South Something-other-than-Dakota. Those expectations are for weather that is better than Chicago's. Korea, you're lettin' down the team, man.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Long Blag about Work*
In work-related news, I got moved out of the office I was in and into the other one, because I no longer taught any S-level classes (the highest level I taught last term, and some of my very favorite students). The new office, rather than having nearly a balance of foreign and Korean teachers, is all Korean teachers except for Q (who also got booted) and me. They hold meetings in there pretty much every day, all in Korean, and it is very exclusionary. There is some traffic between the two rooms, but not terribly much, and I miss the casual camaraderie of my old office. I have furthermore been saddled with the only computer that can run the bell system, apparently, and the administration has resoundingly failed to line up those chiming little ducks. I have had my desk shanghaied three times during my prep time without warning, so someone could ineffectually poke at the bells. It is an annoyance which, piled on top of the fact that it appears to have done me no good at all to move to the new office, really bothers me more than it should.
I should note at this time, there is slightly more to that story. The assignment of classes in the new term reflects a bias for ethnicity over skill set and education (in terms of focus, not level). There is not one dumb teacher in the whole school, and in no way do I feel the people appointed are inadequate to the job, but I do believe that they were selected without regard to several factors (in at least one case, even their own preference), all outweighed by being Korean American. The school's director waited until we had two Korean American English teachers before - but for G, the most senior of us - summarily dismissing us as able to teach the highest levels. Apparently, Korean Americans are better able to do this by virtue of their Korean Americanness. Having taught one of the classes from which we were unceremoniously booted as instructors, I do not agree. I fell my skill set and areas of study more than qualify me to teach those classes, and what's more, I liked teaching those classes. To be physically dismissed from my office so that people who already speak Korean could be in the room that had been substantially English-speaking and I could sit in the Korean office where I am functionally blind, deaf, and dumb, as well as automatically shift the high-level courses to them without even the shadow of meritocratic consideration, is galling.
It is difficult to convey this in a way that does not seem to blame the Korean American teachers, but I do not mean to. They did not ask for this, and in at least one case, did not want it at all. The directorship has simply slid them into the place it thinks they should fill and thinks should be filled by them. And that's just the academic angle. There was also a special shindig just for the Korean American teachers. Not all the teachers of the levels they teach, mind you, or G would have been invited, too. Just the Korean Americans. For being themselves. I think they're both lovely people, and I do support a good ol' celebration of the special snowflake everyone is (after all, what are birthdays for?), but it is awfully hard to feel good about the place you work when you feel like your director is throwing a party for two people as if to say, "Thank God real human beings arrived, we've been stuck with these lesser races for ages."
I would be more understanding if this were clearly a question of needing bilingual fluency for a certain class, but a) that's not so, and b) one of the Korean Americans does not have that command of Korean. Mostly, this was not as bothersome as it could have been until the special snowflake thing last week. I came here intending to get the experience of being a stranger in a strange land. I expect to be treated as strange and freakish outside of work. At work, where they cycle into a new batch of foreigners every three months, I expect less bias. I wonder if I should not lower my expectations and remind myself yet again that I brought this on myself, I willingly went to a part of the world with some very definite ideas about importance based on some things I have been raised not to believe in. I don't even know if there are laws against discrimination here in the country with the most homogeneous population the world over. I am a guest of South Korea for one year, at the sufferance of Avalon. When does the imperative to self-advocate overcome the imperative to respect your host and its culture?
I would like to be a calm, composed observer of my own situation, but I am offended. Even as one part of me marvels at this first experience of racism against my own race to which I have ever been exposed, another part of me is gnashing its teeth. I have not spoken to the school about my feelings, but there is to be a meeting on Friday where I hope it will be addressed.
I have more than hope for this partly because while I have said nothing, G has not been so reserved. In fact, I got to witness another sociological phenomenon at work: privilege. G is a straight, white male from North America. He came here three quarters of a year ago and has still not learned any Korean more than "this," "that," "hello," "thank you," and "goodbye." He has no intention of changing this, and asking him about it will get you only vehemence and dismissal. Getting racisted (yeah, that's a word now. Why do you think I got a degree in linguistics?) Simply Does Not Happen To Him. He has... made that clear to the administration. I do not think the root of his content is wrong (see above), but his manner is far more abrasive than I myself would intentionally employ. I think, amateur that I am in these matters, his reaction to this and mine, especially contrasted with Q's, who has likewise been booted but is neither male nor white nor seeming to have any reaction to this at all, are a result of privilege in our home environments. Ascribing that word to my motivations makes me feel I am behaving in the worst of entitled ways, but I also find it difficult to pack up all the indignation and stuff it into the "::shrug:: This is Korea." box.
So, to sum up, the school passed over non Korea-Americans to teach the most advanced classes, including classes I taught last semester and which I enjoyed a lot. The director has spent money and time specifically on the Korean Americans in a show of appreciation for getting ready to do the same job others of us did last term (which did not merit any such show at the time). Then, they made my old office only for the teachers of those advanced classes, putting me in an office where the dominant language is Korean, and Q and I are only included when an administrative question arises.
Thoughts, Internet?
* (That's "blah" + "blog", not the independently evolved XKCD word of the same spelling)
I should note at this time, there is slightly more to that story. The assignment of classes in the new term reflects a bias for ethnicity over skill set and education (in terms of focus, not level). There is not one dumb teacher in the whole school, and in no way do I feel the people appointed are inadequate to the job, but I do believe that they were selected without regard to several factors (in at least one case, even their own preference), all outweighed by being Korean American. The school's director waited until we had two Korean American English teachers before - but for G, the most senior of us - summarily dismissing us as able to teach the highest levels. Apparently, Korean Americans are better able to do this by virtue of their Korean Americanness. Having taught one of the classes from which we were unceremoniously booted as instructors, I do not agree. I fell my skill set and areas of study more than qualify me to teach those classes, and what's more, I liked teaching those classes. To be physically dismissed from my office so that people who already speak Korean could be in the room that had been substantially English-speaking and I could sit in the Korean office where I am functionally blind, deaf, and dumb, as well as automatically shift the high-level courses to them without even the shadow of meritocratic consideration, is galling.
It is difficult to convey this in a way that does not seem to blame the Korean American teachers, but I do not mean to. They did not ask for this, and in at least one case, did not want it at all. The directorship has simply slid them into the place it thinks they should fill and thinks should be filled by them. And that's just the academic angle. There was also a special shindig just for the Korean American teachers. Not all the teachers of the levels they teach, mind you, or G would have been invited, too. Just the Korean Americans. For being themselves. I think they're both lovely people, and I do support a good ol' celebration of the special snowflake everyone is (after all, what are birthdays for?), but it is awfully hard to feel good about the place you work when you feel like your director is throwing a party for two people as if to say, "Thank God real human beings arrived, we've been stuck with these lesser races for ages."
I would be more understanding if this were clearly a question of needing bilingual fluency for a certain class, but a) that's not so, and b) one of the Korean Americans does not have that command of Korean. Mostly, this was not as bothersome as it could have been until the special snowflake thing last week. I came here intending to get the experience of being a stranger in a strange land. I expect to be treated as strange and freakish outside of work. At work, where they cycle into a new batch of foreigners every three months, I expect less bias. I wonder if I should not lower my expectations and remind myself yet again that I brought this on myself, I willingly went to a part of the world with some very definite ideas about importance based on some things I have been raised not to believe in. I don't even know if there are laws against discrimination here in the country with the most homogeneous population the world over. I am a guest of South Korea for one year, at the sufferance of Avalon. When does the imperative to self-advocate overcome the imperative to respect your host and its culture?
I would like to be a calm, composed observer of my own situation, but I am offended. Even as one part of me marvels at this first experience of racism against my own race to which I have ever been exposed, another part of me is gnashing its teeth. I have not spoken to the school about my feelings, but there is to be a meeting on Friday where I hope it will be addressed.
I have more than hope for this partly because while I have said nothing, G has not been so reserved. In fact, I got to witness another sociological phenomenon at work: privilege. G is a straight, white male from North America. He came here three quarters of a year ago and has still not learned any Korean more than "this," "that," "hello," "thank you," and "goodbye." He has no intention of changing this, and asking him about it will get you only vehemence and dismissal. Getting racisted (yeah, that's a word now. Why do you think I got a degree in linguistics?) Simply Does Not Happen To Him. He has... made that clear to the administration. I do not think the root of his content is wrong (see above), but his manner is far more abrasive than I myself would intentionally employ. I think, amateur that I am in these matters, his reaction to this and mine, especially contrasted with Q's, who has likewise been booted but is neither male nor white nor seeming to have any reaction to this at all, are a result of privilege in our home environments. Ascribing that word to my motivations makes me feel I am behaving in the worst of entitled ways, but I also find it difficult to pack up all the indignation and stuff it into the "::shrug:: This is Korea." box.
So, to sum up, the school passed over non Korea-Americans to teach the most advanced classes, including classes I taught last semester and which I enjoyed a lot. The director has spent money and time specifically on the Korean Americans in a show of appreciation for getting ready to do the same job others of us did last term (which did not merit any such show at the time). Then, they made my old office only for the teachers of those advanced classes, putting me in an office where the dominant language is Korean, and Q and I are only included when an administrative question arises.
Thoughts, Internet?
* (That's "blah" + "blog", not the independently evolved XKCD word of the same spelling)
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Well, I feel sheepish...
... because I have been a baa-d blogger. (Sorry, I couldn't help myself). Anyway, o my reader and o the delight of my internetting, even more than for that bad pun, I am sorry I have not been more write-y.
I suppose it is doubly embarrassing because so much has happened. It is like a soap opera: hidden talents, amazing coincidences, feats of derring-do, epic journeys, racial tensions, the works!
The first term ended, the second has begun, and we have acquired new people - who live near me, wonder of wonders! They are both ladies, one of whom lives in my building and works in the elementary school campus of Avalon, and the other who lives a few doors down and works up at the middle school. D, who lives in my building, is from Chicago, and a very sweet person from all I have seen or heard of her. A, who lives just down the way, is from Georgia by way of New York, and much more laid-back than I really think of New Yorkers as being capable of behaving. Well done, her. I have not known them long nor well, but D and I went and got manicures together, and I tend to walk home with A. I'm sure we'll get to know one another better as the year progresses. It is nice to have people nearby, full-stop.
The choir is lots of fun. I am very glad I have joined. While the musical prowess is not what I am most accustomed to, the people make up for it. I must admit, one of the things that motivates me to relax a little more about the technical aspects is that the pianist-cum-conductor is so incredibly uptight about it. The poor guy can't let go; every minute not perfect seems to cause in him unbearable suffering. While I also lack the ability to completely divorce myself from my ears and this is sometimes painful for lack of the right notes, I have allowed myself to relax more. It's way more fun this way. (Next week, though, we have an intensive rehearsal of 8 to 9 hours. Ask me again about the fun then!)
There is a whole lot to tell on the work front, so much that I am going to make it its own post. The few things I can say about it that are super is that it's great to come back and know some of my students. I have a much better idea of what I can and cannot ask of the different levels, I know a lot more kids' names, and I feel I just generally have a better handle on how to teach. Heavens, could I be becoming... competent?
Also, I have bubble wrap and gold shoes. Everything about this is good.
The first term ended, the second has begun, and we have acquired new people - who live near me, wonder of wonders! They are both ladies, one of whom lives in my building and works in the elementary school campus of Avalon, and the other who lives a few doors down and works up at the middle school. D, who lives in my building, is from Chicago, and a very sweet person from all I have seen or heard of her. A, who lives just down the way, is from Georgia by way of New York, and much more laid-back than I really think of New Yorkers as being capable of behaving. Well done, her. I have not known them long nor well, but D and I went and got manicures together, and I tend to walk home with A. I'm sure we'll get to know one another better as the year progresses. It is nice to have people nearby, full-stop.
The choir is lots of fun. I am very glad I have joined. While the musical prowess is not what I am most accustomed to, the people make up for it. I must admit, one of the things that motivates me to relax a little more about the technical aspects is that the pianist-cum-conductor is so incredibly uptight about it. The poor guy can't let go; every minute not perfect seems to cause in him unbearable suffering. While I also lack the ability to completely divorce myself from my ears and this is sometimes painful for lack of the right notes, I have allowed myself to relax more. It's way more fun this way. (Next week, though, we have an intensive rehearsal of 8 to 9 hours. Ask me again about the fun then!)
There is a whole lot to tell on the work front, so much that I am going to make it its own post. The few things I can say about it that are super is that it's great to come back and know some of my students. I have a much better idea of what I can and cannot ask of the different levels, I know a lot more kids' names, and I feel I just generally have a better handle on how to teach. Heavens, could I be becoming... competent?
Also, I have bubble wrap and gold shoes. Everything about this is good.
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