Some January Snaps

Icicles in the stairwell of my apartment building. I thought I photographed this thing thoroughly, but I only ended up having one picture, this one, which is crappy. Anyway, proof that there are icicles in my apartment building.

Store fronts along the Chungyechung River

Hyewhamun and yours truly

Traditional Korean wall and winter trees in a park in Hyewha

Hyewhamun

Hyewha-dong, Seoul

Sunset out over Hyewha-dong and the great expanse of Seoul (left Namsan Tower)

Koreans don't drink much water when the eat. Someone told me that they think water interferes with digestion. Large cups are wasted on them. A waitress brought me this cup of water, not even half full. Ridiculous.

This store sells jewelry. Obviously the proprietor's are not familiar with this song's double entendre.

 

Finishee

I played the word association game Apples to Apples with my delightful students for an hour and a half, then I handed out prizes and fed them loads of pizza.  We laughed a lot, and I gave them some of the good-natured teasing that they always enjoy.  And that, dear reader(s), was my final day of teaching at my middle school.  So concludes two and a half years of teaching in South Korea, a job I wasn’t really prepared for, and a job that the training I was given didn’t prepare me for either, but I ended up really enjoying.  Perhaps it’s no great feat that my first  job acquired out of the service industry  and when I was twenty-four has been the best job I’ve ever had, but still, there it is.

I don’t leave Korea at all prepared, or interested, in continuing teaching.  I’ve been told that I’m a natural teacher, which was kind, and if I am I get it from my mom.  But I intend on it staying natural, raw, not at all educated. A friend asked me how I’ve grown, intellectually or emotionally, and I of course can’t be asked to sit in judgement of myself, that’s for them to do.  Elizabeth graciously offers to not judge me even if I’ve regressed.  Oh she’ll get hers.  What I do feel is more easily aggravated and more willing to display it, perhaps an addition to my character that wasn’t necessary.  That’s a function of being a teacher because confrontation is demanded daily and often.  Yesterday I went to two stores that sold electronics and yes, cameras, because I wanted to buy an extra camera battery and a new camera case. Neither stores sold them.  In the last store I said, for nobody’s pleasure, “What the hell do you sell here? Fluffy bunnies? Do you sell fluffy bunnies or electronics?” If any of the sales people have a background in English, they may have been quite confused about what they heard.  Also, displays of displeasure are uncommon here, and for good reason, it makes interactions far more pleasant.  But it came out anyway, in part, because half an hour before I was buying coffee and the woman grinding it didn’t understand “French press” and couldn’t change the size of the grind, though the machine had numbers and clearly said it could.  But no, 4 only.  The coffee was far too fine to work in my French press, and I stashed it behind some junk food and didn’t buy it.  Mess with Ms. Grumpy’s coffee and the rest of the evening I’m easily angered.

I am scott free for the remainder of January and all of February.  I’ll be cleaning my apartment, packing up my clothes and possessions which won’t be donated or trashed and shipping it to my parent’s home, and, of course, what I’m really looking forward to, my eleven day trip to Thailand with Maria.  My dreams these days have become entirely relevant to what I’m thinking about: home and my vacation, with strange things added into the mix, like telling off people I know and jousting.

Stuff I Learned About Korea’s High Rate of Suicide

South Korea has the highest suicide rate of any OECD country. They have been ranked number one for most of the last decade.  (I believe they are hovering around number eight worldwide.)  Here’s to hoping that the next decade will prove the mental and cultural health of their country.

There is no easy way to say this (and in many of my posts I have not even tried): I am not a fan of Korean culture.  My own failings contribute to my less-than-rosy perception of the place, but then again, I’m not mad, and my judgements are rational.  Seoul is ugly, with a few exceptions in Insadong and Samcheongdong.  The people are, at best, gracious to foreigners, but rarely open to the social inclusion of foreigners.  I hope many foreigners living in Korea want to refute my statement, because surely there are exceptions.  But Korea, and it’s two big Asian neighbors, have long had the reputation of  being standoffish toward foreigners.  By all means, don’t let my country invade yours, but can’t we have a nice chat?  Koreans do speak English, by the by, especially in Seoul. The cultural pressure to not make mistakes has screwed the bravery out of them . I swear, you’ll have a Nigerian national talking your ear off, and they may not have half of the grasp of the English language as their Korean counterpart.  Sometimes I think the Koreans will cry out of consternation when having to speak to me (a few of my coteachers included) and it takes a conscious effort on my part for the anxiety to not rub off.

So as someone living in their culture, I want to know what contributes to their suicide epidemic.  Epidemic – I suppose we can call it that.

Well, there was scant little I could find telling me the demographics of those who commit suicide.  The only factors I could find  are the following:

1. Depression, and other assortments of mental and emotional conditions that can be treated.

Seems obvious, right? But Korea hasn’t embraced the (some argue) Western concept of mental and emotional health.  Therapy isn’t available, mental illness is highly stigmatized, so that leaves people adrift. This is probably the primary culprit.  Gosh, I was chatting with Kristin over some sushi, and we were talking about the corporeal punishment in Korean schools   I suggested that because, as a nation, they haven’t embraced psychology and sociology, that they wouldn’t embrace the data that shows it’s not the most effective means of reprimanding students, at best, and at worst, humiliating and destructive.  There are very few mental health professionals, and it is a rare one who studies it in college.

I’m also going to lump alcoholism, domestic violence and a rigid patriarchy in here too.  Those don’t help the smiles keep on smilin.

2. Students in the pressure cooker of an educational system here (Why did Obama laud it?)

Students will study late into the night, sacrifice their sleep for months on end, and, if their marks on these entrance exams aren’t sufficient, have about zero opportunity to succeed.  The doors are shut forever on that path.  Suicide rates spike during these all-important exams.  They also spend around 280 days a year in school compared to Finland, who spend 190, and perform just as well or slightly better.

3. Women

Suicide is the third leading cause of death in Korean women. Third!  Holy shit. It doesn’t make the top ten in America.  Why, exactly? Well, they say it’s an accumulation of stress regarding (they have a lot of nouns here) but I’ll just say ‘life.’ Changing gender roles?  The relentless drive for physical and sartorial perfection?  Fuck me, but I think the importance placed on physical appearance doesn’t help.  There is some real sick shit going on with them and women.  Americans and women too.  Everyone and women.  Fuck it.  Honestly, I’m always aghast at the number of responsibilities my female coworkers have.  I think they must be superheroes.

4. The poor elderly living in rural areas

A combination of isolation, illness, poverty and, I imagine, a drastic change in their culture.  Lord knows Korea has seen a lot of changes over the last half century.  That’ll rock your boat.

5. Gays

It’s unacceptable to be gay in Korea.  If they come out, they lose their family, home – looks like about everything. The article I read only mentioned gay men, not a word about lesbians.  Maybe that statistic belongs up there with the women?

In the last couple of years there have been a slew of suicides by Korean public figures: celebrities as well as politicians. In May of last year a former Korean president jumped off of a cliff.  It wasn’t the fall the killed him, though. It was the sudden- you know what?  Never mind.  The suicide rate jumped up impressively (see figures somewhere on the internet more reputable than here) for a month or two after some treasured celebrities killed themselves.  One argument against the discussion of suicide is that, as witnessed, suicide itself can spur more people on.  That’s assbackwards, and from what I’ve seen in Korean media, they are not sugar coating the shit, and are not pretending it doesn’t exist.

I feel like it’s incumbent on me to admit, for the sake of my own psychological accuracy, and a less than wholesome part about being a foreigner, that a part of me – a sick, inhumane and unfair part- that dislikes Korean culture, feels that this is vindication of my opinion.  That there are some serious things to dislike.  Okay, I have far less to suffer in their culture than they potentially can.

Though frankly I’d be just as glad, because nothing relies on me to help obviate the problem, to chock it up to leaving the door open to the unheated hallway in my barely warm office, shoving me on the street, staring at my fat foreign butt, and putting corn on pizza.  Just kidding, I have no complaints about the fucking corn. “Oh my God, Korea is so different, they put corn on pizza. It’s so disgusting.”  Yes they are, and not it isn’t. More god damned corn!

Someone told me once that they thought the totally whacked out pseudo science concept of fan death – asphyxiation because a fan in a closed room is blowing all of the oxygen away – was an attempt to explain away suicides.  Whatever the intentions of those claiming fan death, be it honest ignorance or detrimental manipulation of public sentiment , I hope that whatever needs to happen in their culture to increase their population’s mental health and happiness does happen.  My students! My coworkers!  I sympathize, ultimately, with anyone who feels so dejected that suicide becomes preferable. I’m no stranger to depression. That shit sucks, a great thinker once said.

Related Articles

• South Korea’s Suicidal Tendency (online.wsj.com)

The Exciting Conclusion to My Severance Pay Confusion

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Briana will get two years worth of severance after one month upon leaving her employment with SMOE.

 

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I’m from North Carolina, a state full of suburbs and without large cities, so maybe what I’m about to say about one of the many differences between Korea and America won’t ring totally true.  But this is it: in America we would sooner damage our own cars to avoid driving near pedestrians, whereas Seoulites will give you a hearty “fuck you” and get as near as possible. 

Last night I read a comic book, written by a Korean, about America.  Where, where shall I even begin?  It’s time to start tossing what I can’t take back home with me, but this little piece of cultural what-the-fuck must make it stateside. A full post with pictures is absolutely necessary, but as I can’t do that now, let me impart to you this tidbit that the book informs its readers:

“In America it’s very unsafe to walk in any large city at night.”

My coworker, who liaisons with the financial office, has yet to confirm or assuage my fears about my two years worth of severance pay.  My contract with SMOE is also unclear about when I will receive the severance pay. My coworker says that I’ve received the pay after I’ve finished every contract year, and I say (and I’m paraphrasing) “Bullshit.”  I’m of course worried that I’m irresponsible enough to be wrong, and that a couple of thousand dollars has disappeared under my delinquent observation. I attacked Mrs. Kwan today with more questions, hopefully thinking that the problem was the language barrier.  She apologized for the confusion, for which I don’t hold her accountable, and she asked me to not worry.  I replied, “Oh I’m definitely going to worry.” That surprised her.  But Monday – Monday is to be the day when the necessary staff will be in the office and can answer my questions.  Cross your fingers for me.

My departure date is getting closer now; I have just two more months in Seoul.  I am not amped up and nervous like I was in the summer when I thought I was going to leave in August. I’m pleased, all in all.

My English camp classes are going well. The kids are great, and the teacher training provided by my district last month, surprises of surprises, was actually helpful. I feel like a much more competent teacher than I did during my last summer English camp.

In the summer my life just wasn’t very grand.

Oh yeah, and happy new year.

Related Articles

• Dreams of Severance Pay Severed? (slackerspeaksloud.wordpress.com)
• South Korea: Should Foreign Teachers Be Tested for HIV? (time.com)

Dreams of Severance Pay Severed?

The outrage of earlier this week was swiftly replaced by a fuzzy feeling of contentment.  I began my fifth and final English camp, which is about the perfect amount of teaching. I have the kids until twelve twenty and then we can all go our own ways.  I have found shoes which keep my feet warm in the office. I have an upcoming trip to Thailand with a dear friend who I haven’t seen in a couple of years, and then I’ll leave Korea and my job for my parent’s home in North Carolina.  My parents and I get along well.  I’m looking forward to seeing everybody, rehaunting some old haunts, and going on to the next thing – whatever that will be.  Suggestions are welcome.

Back in the office it’s just me, Ms. Choi and Mrs. Kwan.  Everyone else is on break.  We were hashing out some things for tomorrow’s lesson when Mrs. Kwan reminded me that I need to get money back from my paycheck that went into a pension.  ”Yes,” I said, “And won’t I also need to provide you information so I can receive my severance pay?”  There, unfortunately, we had a difference of opinion.  I have been under the impression that upon finally leaving SMOE (Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education) that I would be given 4 million won; she believes 2 million won has been given to me after each contract I’ve completed.  Something is seriously wrong – either she is confused, I am confused, or I’m being cheated.  I think the last is an unlikely option.  I really truly hope that I am not confused.  Oh oh oh – I was counting on that.  I feel much less content that I did a few hours ago.  I cannot find any information on the internet regarding SMOE severance pay.   I’m stunned that Google has failed me.  GOOOOOOOOGLE! Why?  Merde.

The people who work in the financial office will not be back to work until next week.  That’ll give me enough time to work on a stomach ulcer.

This Winter’s First Worthwhile Snow

The cliffside behind my school

The grumpy dog that lives in my school's garden

Jongam Neighborhood

Jongam Neighborhood

Korea University

Yours Truly

Korea University

 

An Acute Case of KS

I’ve  had a roaring KS day like I haven’t had in a long time.  KS being a term some friends and I coined to be discreet when we complained; it’s short for ”Korea sucks.”  We used it as shorthand for “We are foreigners and sometimes this different place and different culture is frustrating.”  The important part is ‘sometimes.’

So you have a KS day once in a while.  But today was more like a FK day. I’m sure you can work that one out for yourself.

This acute case of KS was brought on by the poor infrastructure of my school.  The toilets and the heating are appalling.  These are basic facilities that a school must provide for its students and its staff!  Earlier today I was damn near foaming at the mouth because of the inconveniences, the incompetence and the want of hygienic practices. I would like to find whoever is in charge of these parts of the school, and I realize it may be a long, bureaucratic chain, and I want to clock them all on the nose.

First, the heating. It’s hovering at or below freezing today, and the hallways and the student bathrooms are not heated.  They’ve never been heated.  They just don’t heat them, much to my continuing disgust.  It’s colder inside the hallways than it is outside.  The teacher’s offices and the classrooms are heated, but I can’t imagine the temperature is above fifty-five.  Everyone, including myself, is wearing all of their outerwear in the offices and classrooms.  Any time a door is opened – or left open by teachers and students who are clearly too inconsiderate to justify their continued existence- the meager heat is overtaken by a bitter chill.  All of the surfaces are very cold to the touch, and my feet and hands couldn’t get warm.   School ends tomorrow, but I have three weeks of English winter camp where I and the students will suffer and shiver in these poorly heated rooms.

The toilets – can I  describe the many squalid conditions of the toilets without lapsing into a string of unenlightening, heartily meant swear words?  I will attempt fortitude. Ahem.  There is one teacher’s bathroom, and, bless the lord that I don’t believe in, it  is heated in the winter.  There are three toilets in the women’s: two squatters and one western style toilet. I always use the western style toilet for my convenience and because I would wreak havoc on the squatter toilets. My aim is not professional, and I don’t think my coworkers deserve to encounter such biological horrors.  The western style toilet in the women teacher’s bathroom has been clogged for two months.  I am outraged, and I can only rely on informing my coworkers about the problem who may or may not understand me and may or may not have the time to inform whomever the hell needs to be informed to get a fucking plunger and fix it.  Some of the teachers, lovely as they are, may not understand me though they think they do, or, much more insidiously, will nod emphatically to avoid speaking English or admitting that they haven’t understood me.  Out of necessity I have had to use the toilets in the student’s bathrooms.  I’ve always had a good opinion of these kids, but after seeing how they treat these bathrooms, I wonder if they are house broken.  Shit, blood, piss – it’s all over the squatters and the western style toilets.  Because the school does not have janitors, the students clean everything, including the bathrooms.  A bathroom needs real cleaning, real chemicals, someone professional.  Do you think middle school kids would thoroughly clean a bathroom? If so,  then I have some beach side property up my ass you may be interested in.  On the walls of the bathroom stalls are old, dried bodily fluids.  The plumbing in Seoul cannot handle toilet paper, so the paper is thrown away in trash cans, or on the floor.  Feces is on the floor, all over the toilets, on paper in trash cans or smeared on the walls.  Feces, and I know I shall wow you with my medical expertise, does not increase one’s  health when exposed to it.

So basic! Toilets and heating.  Without these properly mastered, how can a school stay open?  Korea, as I often invoke when I am appalled at something, is an OECD country. How is this permissable?

A KS day takes two: me and Korea.   Some days things here, like some days things anywhere, can overload my occasionally fragile circuits and turn me into something that snarls and snaps and stares glumly.  I admit culpability for having bad days, but not all disgust is misplaced.

For Christmas Santa Claus brought me a bladder infection, so I had to go to the hospital to get some antibiotics this afternoon.  I usually go to a hospital across the street from me.  Because of the language barrier I cannot even call to make an appointment, or insure that they have a urology department, and I definitely need my coworker Ms. Choi along to translate and shuffle me around to the various stations.  I was not thrilled about having to tell her about my problem (despite trumpeting it on the internet) because I’m afraid of the judgement of my Korean coworkers.  It’s a very different society here.  What one does is under a microscope, especially as a foreigner, and (as my friend Matt said about living in Japan) though you are excused from the rules of polite society, you may also be excused from being treated politely. I’m afraid they’ll gossip about me, and as this is something women get often, and often because of sex, and Korea is very rigid about what women can and cannot do, I felt all the inconvenience of explaining my symptoms to a coworker and being chaperoned.  In the waiting room Ms. Choi asked me if I got a bladder infection because I drank too much on Christmas.  With what delight did I hear that!  Not only does one not get a bladder infection from drinking, but I was also being accused of unsavory behavior (for a woman) which induced the sickness!  Misinformation about health and shame for suppossed immoral behavior - her question validated my concerns.  Though mostly I was just thankful she helped me, and helped me graciously.  It was what I saw before we went into the hospital that took my KS day to a FK day.

It was snowing and a man, a patient of the hospital, exchanged a few angry words with a woman. Perhaps she was his daughter or his wife.  She moved away from him, back toward the hospital doors, and quick as can be he grabbed her hair at the roots, twisted her head, and pulled her along with him.  She yelled and he pulled her and she tried to get away from him.  Vaguely restrained by Ms. Choi, I tried to give him the evilest teacher glare that I could muster, shocked as I was.  He let her go before I could decide what I would do if it went any further.  He was in the hospital for a broken arm.   He deserved another.  Ms. Choi studiously avoided looking at the scene; I looked in hopes to shame and dissuade him.  That poor woman.

And thats how a KS day becomes an FK day.

(But, to illustrate that I’m able to appreciate the good when there is good, I’d like to brag that my doctor’s visit -with tests- and my week’s worth of antibiotics cost under twelve dollars. Suck that, America.)

My 3rd Expat Christmas – 2010

 

Gift giving guilt

A traditional style Korean building at the Shilla hotel

Christmas decorations in the lobby of the Shilla hotel

Sparkly. Good.

Kristin primping

Me and some beautiful Christmas lights at the Hyatt

More lights at the Hyatt

In the lobby of the Hyatt.

We drank and dined for very unreasonable prices in the beautiful lobby of the Hyatt. There were lounge singers, an incredible view of Seoul and everything just dripped sophistication...except for me, of course.

Ridiculous cars outside of the Hyatt

Kristin and Sunday Indian lunch