Survival

Here in Seoul, you have to learn to fend for yourself. Each day is a fight for survival. And so, I have aptly titled this post "Survival". Prepare to learn how to live. While reading, I suggest that you listen to this song, which is also called "Survival", but is really about man's great struggle against dynamics that fall below mezzo piano. Imagine me listening to this while dodging cars and motorcycles. More on that later.

First, there's food. Since the dawn of time, man has been driven by the desire to fill his stomach with delicious food. That desire continues to this day. Namely, it continues with me. Now, let me be clear that finding food in Seoul is not hard. In fact, finding delicious food is incredibly easy because everything here is delicious. Even if you don't feel like walking the twenty or so steps it takes to get to the nearest kimbap/doppoki/fried food vendor, you can always have food delivered because everything, even McDonald's, delivers. But then there comes the day when you realize that there's an emptiness inside of you, an emptiness that can only be filled with a home-cooked, American meal. Then it's time to draw upon the instincts of your ancestors and embrace the hunter-gatherer within you.

Recently, I made beef stew. Or rather, I think it was beef. It was probably pork. Then another day, I had a craving for a nice meat and tomato pasta sauce. Since Ragu is for peasants, I decided I was going to make it from scratch. I am not exaggerating when I say it took me almost two weeks to find all of the ingredients.

I had to kill a few people.

Do you see that cheese? Cheese is like gold over here. Some stores sell it in security packaging so you can't steal it. That wine? It was a gift from my company. Except I had already enjoyed my allotted portion of wine and had to buy a coworker's bottle. I could have gone to the store to buy wine, but then I would have had to suffer the embarrassment of spending 30 dollars on a bottle of Barefoot. The ground beef was the hardest. I obsessively visited local grocery stores until I found one tiny package buried at the bottom of a freezer.

Now that your stomach is filled once more, it's time to venture outside and behold the wonders that the world has to offer. Just be careful that no one kills you. I don't mean the kind of killing that involves edged weapons and laughter, by the way. Those sorts of things don't happen in Korea. I mean cars. I mean motorcycles. I mean that you need to learn to dodge them, or, even better, learn how to stare them into submission.

If traffic laws exist, I have never seen them enforced. In fact, the only time I've seen police dealing with traffic is when they set traps for drunk people. Other than that, they're usually causing traffic. The other day, I was late to work because the police had set up a barricade in Gangnam, surrounding a group that was protesting Samsung. It wouldn't have been that bad except that the number of police was triple that of the protesters, and all of the polices buses had blocked the real buses. A few days ago, a street vendor's truck got in the way of the bus I was riding. The bus driver stopped the bus in the middle of a busy intersection, and, ignoring all other traffic, jumped out of the bus and began cursing at the vendor. We sat there for about five minutes, during which time the intersection remained completely blocked. Even though this was in Itaewon, an area with a higher than average crime rate and thus a higher than average police presence, not a single cop showed up to do anything. In the end, the vendor's friends showed up, and the driver had to get back inside his bus and drive away.

Another problem is that many Korean streets do not have sidewalks or any sort of marking. Cars go up and down at will and park pretty much wherever they feel like. Even if there is a sidewalk, that won't stop motorists from using it as a spare roadway and/or parking space. Delivery guys use sidewalks as a convenient shortcut through traffic. Other guys ride up and down the sidewalks at high speeds, leaving behind a trail of advertisements about lonely, large-breasted women.

Pictured: A superior parking job.

Perhaps you are thinking that my walk to work involves death-defying deeds of daring. You are incorrect. No, my walk to work involves nothing more than a cold stare of defiance. Rather than wait for that jerk in the car to pass, I walk out in front of him, angry music blaring, and I stare him right in the eye as I walk in front of him. I don't speed up, and I don't slow down. I just walk. And I stare. I dare you to hit me, I say with my eyes. I dare you to feel the guilt for the rest of your miserable life. He doesn't stop. But he slows down to let me pass. Then I go to work, where I teach children about English and love and friendship.

The End.


Extra Bonus: Here's a picture of a real-life transformer. It's a truck that transforms into a bar. The side opens up, and they serve people on the sidewalk. Note the disco ball.

More than meets the eye.

They Call Me Mother Theresa: Things My Students Say (Part II)

Well, it's a new term. And with a new term comes new students with new and increasingly ridiculous things to say. So here we go.

Me: "Hello, I'm your teacher. You can call me Teacher Theresa."
Student: "Mother Theresa?????"
Me: "No, I am not nice enough to be Mother Theresa."
Student: "No, teacher. I think you are nice enough."
Later...
Student: "Teacher, are you married?"
Me: "No."
Student: "Neither was Mother Theresa! Teacher, I think you are Mother Theresa!"

During a listening exercise, we heard a story of a man who had the end of his middle finger cut off. The students were concerned, not for the man, but rather for his new inability to flick people off. When a new medical procedure allowed the man to regrow his finger, the students were relieved.
Me: "So what happened to the man?"
Students: "He grew his finger back!"
Me: "That's right!"
Student: "Now he can...you know, teacher. Use his middle finger..."
Me: "I don't think he would do that. He's a nice, old man."
Student: "No, I think he will. He is a man."

Me: "The Ancient Egyptians used to pay people in beer."
Student: "Just like my father's company!"

Me: "Burns can be really bad. For example, my brother once set himself on fire with gasoline and-"
Student: "TEACHER, YOUR BROTHER DEAD???"
Me: "No, he didn't die-"
Student: "TEACHER, YOUR BROTHER RETARDED????"

Student: "Teacher, I think anorexic people are stupid. Food is delicious." 

Me: "For example, if I cut off Justin's arm-"
Students: "TEACHER, WHY YOU WANT TO KILL JUSTIN? TEACHER, YOU SO EVIL!"

Student: "Call me Chocolate Peter."
Other Student: "Call me Street Riding Peter."

Student: "I think crime is good because you can get money and then get girlfriend."
Me: "What happens to your girlfriend when you're caught and you go to jail?"
Student: "I think is okay. She will have my car and be happy."

Well, that's all I have for now. This is almost entirely from my first week of classes. I love these kids. In conclusion, here's a nice picture of Fall in Korea.

And by Fall, I actually mean a few yellow leaves and a truck delivering the daily supply of beer.

Thanksgiving, Costco, and A New Term

Sometimes life gets in the way of regular blog activity. But not tonight. Tonight, I opened a fresh bottle of wine (it was 5,000 won and tastes like acid!) and vowed that I would write something for all the loyal followers that I have no doubt lost due to my long inactivity.

Last week was the great holiday of American Thanksgiving, which ranks high on my list of great holidays because it's all about my two favorite things, food and family. Unfortunately, the family part of the holiday was unreachable, and, in the end, I stopped looking forward to Thanksgiving and most other holidays. But fortunately, I work at a company that really likes to celebrate American holidays. That's why we had an extravagant Halloween party and also why we had a bountiful Thanksgiving dinner/lunch.
It began early in the day on Thursday morning (noon). My boss and I climbed in a taxi and headed over to a street corner in downtown Seoul, where a red-headed man from HR was handing out slightly warm and pleasant-smelling boxes.

This is what Thanksgiving looks like.

Then we headed back to the office with our precious cargo. Inside the boxes were turkeys, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and pumpkin pie. The Korean staff also ordered us some pizza because no American holiday is complete without pizza, right?

So that was Thanksgiving.

On Saturday, I decided to check out Costco, which is exactly the same as Costco in America except that it's full of Koreans. Still crowded, still located in a giant warehouse, still providing free samples of your favorite junk food, and still selling things in bulk for criminally low prices. In fact, the only difference I could spot involved the food court.

As it turns out, Costco pizza tastes the same, no matter which country you're in.

Actually, differences. First of all, look at that crowd. People were practically fighting over seats. Second...100% PORK hot dogs. Perhaps I've neglected to mention that Korea loves pork. It's by far the cheapest meat available, and I think this is partially due to how farmers feed their pigs. Koreans sort their garbage. The recyclables and such go in one pile, the garbage goes in special bags that are unique to each neighborhood, and the food goes in a big, nasty trash can. The food waste is then processed and fed to the pigs, who, being pigs, don't mind at all being fed food scraps. The end result is that the pigs get their food practically for free, and the cost of pork is drastically reduced. I think it's pretty brilliant. But I also think it's pretty strange for a hot dog to made of 100% pork.

In other news, we started a new term at Chungdahm, meaning that I had to say goodbye to my students, and welcome in some new kids. As it turns out, my reputation precedes me. My 4:00 class on Tuesday was made up almost entirely of boys who had heard from their friends that I was "really cool". One of my former students proudly introduced me to his little brother, while a number of other boys informed me that they knew all about my love of Batman, Star Wars, and Notre Dame football. I knew I'd won their hearts, minds, and eternal respect, though, when I made a Minecraft joke in class. Unfortunately, this class is also going be incredibly wild. The four girls in this class have retreated into full-on siege mode, and probably won't emerge for a few weeks or so. I'm also teaching middle schoolers for the first time. So far, they seem pretty okay. The real trick is getting them to laugh. If you can get them to laugh, you can get them to talk.


I don't work on Wednesdays this term, so every Wednesday will be Adventure Time. Today's adventure involved the cat cafe at Gangnam Station. I think cats can tell that I love them. After only a few minutes, a cat came over and claimed my lap as his own, refusing to move even when the owner offered him food. Oh, and there was also this cat.

I dub thee PLS cat.

You Are Never Too Drunk

Today marks the three month anniversary of my arrival in Korea. I'd say things are going really well. I no longer notice that I look completely different from everyone else. Every time I see another foreigner, I stare at them in wonder before remembering that they're probably doing the same thing to me. I've figured out how to pay my bills (type in some numbers at the bank), order food (point at stuff and say "give me" in Korean), use public transportation, and even buy food. I've become pretty good at cooking for myself and substituting Korean ingredients when the ones I'm used to using can't be found. I've got a good relationship with most of my students, and a few of them have even told me that they don't want to move up to the next level of English if that means I can't be their teacher anymore. This past week, we gave the students a break and let them play and watch movies for the last hour of class. I decided to show my students Star Wars, and they LOVED it. (The best way to tell if your child is normal is to see if they like Star Wars. If they don't, your child probably has been replaced by an unfeeling robot, and you need to seek immediate help.) I've done a fair amount of shopping to supplement my wardrobe and to make up for all the weight I've lost since arrival. Korean fashion is fantastic.

A few weeks ago, one of my good friends from Notre Dame came to visit. Practicing the Korean way of life, most of our time was spent shopping, eating, and drinking. I tell you this so that I may introduce you to one of Korea's delightful little blemishes. There are either no laws governing the consumption of alcohol or Korea just doesn't care. I suspect it is the latter. For example, if you're too cheap or too disinterested in the ambiance of sitting in a bar, you can just stumble on over to your favorite convenience store, purchase your favorite adult beverage, and pop a squat outside that very convenience store to enjoy that very beverage. Or you can sit on the sidewalk. Or on your car. Or in your car. Or in the middle of the road (though I advise you against it.) Or, if sitting isn't your thing, you can just stroll down the street and treat the journey from one 7-eleven to the next like your own personal bar-crawl. When you get tired of walking or sitting, just step inside a noraebang (karaoke room). The more alcohol you order, the more time you have to belt out your favorite rock hits of the 90s. Feeling tired? Go get some coffee. It's 2 AM, so the coffee is extra fresh and business is booming. While you're waiting for your coffee, enjoy a cigarette or two because smokers aren't treated like social pariah in this country. Hungry? Go get something fried from any of the many street vendors. You might not know what it is you're eating, but it will taste delicious. And if you're concerned that you're too drunk right now, don't worry. You aren't. Somewhere, probably somewhere close by, there is a Korean man who is way more drunk than you will ever be in your entire life.

Like this Korean man, for example.

So what I'm saying is, If you're looking for a good time, Korea is the place to be. Life here isn't without its setbacks, but all in all, it's pretty great.

Things My Students Draw (Part II)

My apologies for my long absence. One of my good friends from college came to visit for a week, and most of my time was spent doing what friends do best. Namely, shopping, seeing the sights, eating, and generally enjoying the many possibilities offered by Seoul night-life. For example, it is perfectly acceptable to drink outside of a convenience store for many hours. As my friend quickly realized, Korea is one of those countries that really doesn't care about a lot of things.

But I digress! I was going to show you some more things my students have drawn. Ah, such talented and sweet children...

Note that it says hitting, but clearing shows stabbing.

Well, that was just the kid who likes to blow up tomatoes. Let's see about some other kids.

Violence!

Perhaps I should explain what's going on here. The prompt for this presentation involved relationship problems. The Canadian, Steve, had just started dating the Korean, Sun-hee. Well, Steve doesn't realize that kissing in public isn't considered appropriate, so he keeps trying to kiss Sun-hee. The students were asked to give advice that would help resolve the situation...

I don't know what this is, but it has something to do with Steve shooting off guns in public and getting arrested. Stupid Steve.

Okay, so Steve is really stupid. Having grown up with someone named Steve, I am well aware of this fact. Let's see what the group came up with for advice.

Man, relationships are so easy!

The lesson to be learned here is simple. Never get relationship advice from your students.

For our next class, we talked about Tibet and China. At first, they didn't care. Then, one of the brighter students brought up China's involvement in the Korean War, and they became a seething mass of fury. Here's a propaganda poster one student made.

Mostly, he was excited that he got to draw a gun.

That brings me to something I've been wanting to talk about for awhile now. Namely, reunification. In America, we call the Koreas "South Korea" and "North Korea". Here, if you call the country South Korea, people look at you funny. It's Korea. That's it. As far as my students are concerned, there is only one Korea. Any map of Korea shows both North and South with no dividing line in between. All of my students want Korea to be unified because they believe it will make their country stronger. I'm really glad that I studied the Cold War during college because even the little bit that I know about Korean history has awed my students. Yay, knowledge!

Fireworks and Mobs

Sometimes, like right now, I cannot sleep. And then it becomes a great opportunity to keep up with my fans. Fans is what I shall have to call people now because it seems that my blog has acquired over 1000 views. While I imagine that most of these views are poor people who accidentally found their way here through facebook, I still feel a measure of success. Somehow, the material here was interesting enough for it to be viewed more than once.

When we last saw our adventurer, she was aglow with the after-effects of a good old-fashioned K-pop concert. Since then, I have embarked on a number of adventures.


Last Saturday was the International Fireworks Festival in Seoul. I don't know if that's what it was actually called, but the name I have given it is a pretty good description of what happened. Teams from around the world gathered in Seoul to show off their fireworks. Meanwhile, mobs gathered in strategic viewing places all around Seoul. This is how I found myself in a park on an island in the middle of the Han River, eating fried chicken and drinking beer with my coworkers. I should probably mention at this point that Korea sees no problem with public drinking or drunkenness, as evidenced by the vast number of tents at this event that were selling beer for dirt cheap. Meanwhile, the sun slowly set until, at last, the festivities began. The teams from Germany, Italy, and the US were pretty standard. They were loud and they were beautiful, which is really all one asks of one's fireworks shows. But, of course, the Korean team had to show off. So from the very beginning, it was like a continuous finale, complete with geometric patterns and the name PSY written in giant flaming letters. So spectacular was the show that it left me wondering what exactly they were going to do for a finale. Silly me. They, of course, set the bridges on fire. Perhaps I exaggerate. They attached fireworks to the bridges over the Han and then set them all off at once. Was traffic rerouted, you ask? Silly Westerner! Of course it wasn't! Drive onward over the flaming bridge, brave traveler!

In the United States, we would call this a terrorist attack. In Korea, it's national pride.

Two hours later, the show was finally finished. I got up, thinking that I'd just pop on home to enjoy a nice cup of tea and a book. Again, silly Westerner! Did I mention mobs before? Mobs. The crowds leaving the island were like every disaster movie evacuation. Realizing that boarding a train immediately was impossible, I decided to wait a bit until the crowds died down. Surely, I thought optimistically, half an hour shall be enough time! How very wrong I was. There was a line to get into the subway, then there was a mob scene on the platform as hundreds of people tried to shove their way onto already crowded trains. I took a few pictures because there was nothing else to do.

I look at this and think of zombie hoards.

Good luck leaving any time within the next two hours.

The air here has the distinct flavor of kimchi.

Three hours later, I finally made it home. In summary, I can say that the fireworks were great, but if I ever see them again, it will be from a different location. Perhaps a location that isn't on an island.

The Psy Concert, Or, Why Coming Here Was A Great Choice

I work every day of the week. Most of my coworkers have off one day out of every week, and I usually gaze longingly on their free Fridays or Wednesdays. But yesterday I realized that I am in fact the fortunate one. For you see, I leave work early on Thursday. And it is because of this beautiful blessing that I was able to attend the once-in-a-lifetime Psy concert in downtown Seoul. (extra bonus: it was free!)

Hopefully, we've all heard of Psy by now. And although I discovered this morning that neither of my brothers have ever heard of Psy, I hope they're the only ones who live under rocks.

I left work promptly at 7 and arrived at Seoul Plaza in front of City Hall around 7:45. Even though I was over two hours early, this was not enough time to be within sight of anything on the stage, and as it was, I had a hard time seeing the screens. Meanwhile, the crowd pressed so close that I nearly got crushed a few times. Two old drunk guys got in a fight behind me, and had to be lifted up and pushed over the fence because there was no room for them to just walk out of the crowd. While struggling to stay afloat, I came across a family of Spaniards who had somehow wandered in by accident and had no idea what was going on. Spotting a non-Korean at last, the dad asked me in broken English about what was happening. Once they realized that the concert wasn't for another two hours, they left in disappointment. They missed out.

The crowd settled down eventually, and I was able to work my way further inward, although I was still too far away to see much. In fact, the only time I caught a glimpse of Psy was when, halfway through the concert, he got on top of a giant platform that lifted him high into the air.

This is the only picture I took that doesn't suck. The screens tell me that Psy was somewhere up there.

Psy is a hell of a performer. He sings, he dances, he moves everywhere, and he thanks everyone. There were disco lights, backup dancers, fireworks, explosions, and lots of glitter. Though I didn't understand a single word of what was said, I understood the feeling. This wasn't just another show. This was special. This was a guy coming home from wild success abroad to find an audience of 80,000, all of whom know every single word to every one of his songs, dancing with pure joy and energy for two hours straight as they requested encore after encore. It was a triumphant moment for Psy and a great moment for Korea, too.

There were many highlights of the concert, but my favorite has to be when Psy declared, "this is for Korea" and chugged an entire bottle of soju, then, removing his shirt, performed Gangnam Style for the second time. Korea, you are a beautiful place, and I thank you for producing such a man.

Though video cannot properly convey how awesome the performance was, it can, perhaps, convey the extreme size of the crowd. Check it out.

I am somewhere in that seething mass of singing people, and I am singing just as loud as anyone else.

Today, I told my students that I went to see Psy last night. They were all incredibly jealous. Only one of my students was able to top my story. Her mom is best friends with the organizer, who managed to get them into the front row. This student got a high-five from Psy. I told her that she better introduce me, or I'm going to fail her. No word yet on whether such threats will yield results.