smerinasia

running on empty

Okay. This week is officially taking my heart from its chest and stomping on it and handing it back to me to keep functioning with. I've started having "last classes" with groups of students, and between the sweet comments and the going-away letters and presents it's like watching the last scene of Running on Empty on repeat up in here. (Remember how much we cried the first time we saw that, Holly and Dawn?)

John (of "Oh, shit!" fame) gave me the sweetest card/letter ever today. I held it together until about 6:40, when Lucy gave me a tin on which she had written "To Erin, my favorite teacher", after which I cried and cried and cried. And then went back to class to attempt a game to play Hangman and be lighthearted.

Man, I hate goodbyes.

world cup

Tonight was one of those nights where I totally wish I'd had my camera but am also totally glad I didn't have my camera. Does anyone know what I mean? I hope so, because that's all the explanation you're going to get.

So, I don't know if this is bug news on your side of the world, but Korea played its first World Cup game tonight. Against Togo. A country that I couldn't point out on a map before six hours ago, for the record.

I stayed late at work to take advantage of the empty office, as all the other teachers had made their way up to my house to watch the game. I considered going to City Hall to watch the game, but changed my mind once I saw a picture of the place from four hours before the game, when you couldn't see the grass for all the red t-shirts. (My roommate went, and came home after a half an hour of trying to find her friends in the crowd. They all had cell phones and she said they ALL said they were 'in front of KFC', but they COULDN'T FIND EACH OTHER. Madness.)

So, with about 20 minutes left to the game, I came upstairs, changed my shoes, and went for a walk. It was eerily quiet on the street; no traffic, no pedestrians. Entire businesses were left unmanned (including the corner bundaegi lady's cart, Mike! I would have torched but for the fear that it would smell EVEN WORSE), and the buses were almost empty. It was like a weird Twilight Zone episode. (Redundant much, Smer?)

Anyways, I found all the people once I turned the corner onto the main street--they were all AT BARS. (And I use "bars" in the Korean sense, which means "chicken restaurants", "soju tents" and "convenience stores".) EVERY OPEN BUSINESS had a tv on SOMEWHERE, broadcasting the game. It was SURREAL to see SO MANY PEOPLE, surrounding SO MANY TV SETS, when there was NO ONE ELSE ANYWHERE.

Like, literally, taxis were stopping in the middle of the street and the drivers were getting out. I passed at least three "parked" cars in the road with no one in them. If Kirk Cameron had shown up, I would not have been the least bit surprised.

Anyways, I stopped and stood outside a bar with a group of onlookers and watched the last 5 minutes or so on the big screen tv they had lugged outside, and cheered with them as Korea beat Togo 2:1. It was really exhilarating and communal and awesome.

I was going to say something about sports being really unifying, like music but with less hipper-than-thou posturing, but I fear that will start a fight, so I will passive agressively say it like that. :P

Cubs game in July, anyone?

school words

Eight days and counting, people. The days are FLYING BY, and I don't know how to catch them. I want to remember everything the kids do or say because they're so awesome. It's funny how scared I was a few months ago of working with elementary-age kids (as opposed to preschoolers), thinking they would be too much for me. And now I kind of love them, love hearing their ideas and how they process things, and seeing how one kid can be so different from the next and how amazing that is.

I've been telling the kids that I'm leaving in kind of a piecemeal kind of way, easing myself into it. Today I told a class and they were upset (no whoops of joy upon hearing the news, which was a relief), and I said "Yeah, I'm a little sad too." and 10-year-old Julie, incensed by my apparent indifference, said "A little sad?! I'm a BIG sad!"

At least I've taught opposites correctly. :)

Also, during the same class, one of the kids said "Ahh-sssaa!", which is the Korean equivalent (and possible derivative) of our "Awesome!" They aren't allowed to speak Korean in class, so when he got "told on" by his classmate yelling "Erin Teacher! John is Korean!" (an exclamation after which I always feign shock: "He's WHAT?! Oh my God, I think you're right!!"), I convinced him to replace it with "Awesome" so that Little Peter Tattletale couldn't rat him out to me anymore. We practiced, which went as follows:

John: Ahh-ssaaa!
Me: Okay, repeat after me. AWE-SOME!
John: Awesome!
Me: Excellent! Awesome, even!
John: Awesome!
Me: Okay, good. Now sit down and open your book.
John: Ohhhhh, SHIT!

Um? WHAT?? And he said it with PERFECT street-wise intonation, like he had just come back from his Boyz in the Hood audition. This is a kid who regularly answers "How are you today?" with "It's sunny!", people.

I finally got the story from him (you'd be surprised how adept you can get at piecing together stories from random verbs and nouns when you teach ESL to kids, for real) that he had been on a boat with a "Canadian" (this likely means "white person") and that the boat had hit the dock by accident and the Canadian ("Whitey von Paleskin") had yelled the above, and John had thought it was an expression indicating enthusiasm, or at least excitement, and therefore was suitable for the classroom. I calmly assured him that it was not. (See also: the "Pimp is Not a School Word" episode of early 2004.)

Also, while all this was happening, I happened to notice that John was wearing a shirt that said "Peeping Tim's Whale Watching Tours".

Man, my job. Things I have also said so far this week (and it's only Wednesday) include "Kevin, tell Jason you're sorry, and that he is not a crazy hamburger" and my personal favorite from today: "James. 'Mosquito' is not a verb." 

I am going to miss my job so much, for real. My roommate, who leaves at the end of July, said it perfectly the other night: "Yeah, I love my job. If only I could take it home with me."

Indeed.

relative normalcy, part one

As of yesterday, I officially have two weeks left at work. TWO WEEKS. I can't even begin to explain how much that blows my mind. It's weird because we're at that point now where I have to start explaining to students that I'm going home, and then they ask when I'm coming back, and then I blink back tears and say "okayopenyourbookstopagesixteen" and turn towards the board.

So, anyways, now that the countdown is on (and in the interest of remembering them myself), I'm going to jot down some of the random strangeness about Korea for you. These are all things that have somehow become "normal" to me, so when the reverse culture shock hits me in a couple of weeks and I get upset when the pizza guy doesn't come back to pick up our leftovers (see #1), you guys have some understanding of why. :)

Disclaimer: These will be written in no particular order, and on a strictly in a when-they-occur-to-me basis.

#1: Food Delivery

Korean food is delivered with frightening efficiency. There is no delivery charge or minimum order. I can, literally, order one roll of kimbap (which costs 1,000 won, about $1) and a man on a scooter (another story: Korean Scooters and the Traffic Rules That Seemingly Don't Apply To Them Whatsoever") will arrive withing 15 minutes with it. I can't actually do this, of course, given that my Korean telephone skills are limited to "Yoboseyo?" ("Hello?"), but I eat dinner with my coworkers every day and that's what we do. (Yes, I also have coworkers that I actually enjoy having dinner with every day, but that's another story.)

When you order a full one-person meal from a Korean restaurant, it usually costs 3500-4500 won, and it comes with several side dishes for everyone to share and soup.  When the meal is finished, we take all the leftover food and dishes and leave them outside on the front steps of the school, where they are soon magically retrieved by a man on a scooter to return to whence they came. I have no idea how this can work, time-wise, for the restaurant, esply when most people live in high-rise apartment buildings and they have to return to each apartment and pick up the dishes, which are laid outside the door.

This is one of the reasons I think Koreans have perfected teleportation and are holding out on the rest of the world. The scooters, though. WHAT PART DO THEY PLAY.

#2: Couples Shirts

A Korean couple is pretty limited in socially acceptable ways to show they're a couple in public. Evidently, they have circumvented this problem by choosing to wear matching t-shirts (and sometimes jeans and sneakers) when they go out.

Recently I encountered an even more horrifying trend: couples shirts emblazoned with "Boyfriend--->" and "<---Girlfriend". Yes, those are ARROWS. Because apparently the matching couples shirts themselves were too AMBIGUOUS.

#3: Fan Death

Many (many) Koreans believe that leaving a fan on all night in your house can kill you, a phenomenon known as Fan Death. So, if you buy a fan in Korea, it is equipped with a timer, so that you can make sure that you don't drift off and leave the fan on all night.

I'm not even lying.

****
Okay! I'll stop for now, since it's Saturday, and I should be outside in the sunshine. Speaking of sunshine, HOLLY AND DAD CAN WE HAVE A BARBECUE IN A BACKYARD AT THE END OF JUNE? With Morningstar veggie dogs and real beer???

Please?

dwyer's rocking out on air guitar

Oh yeah, there are a few more pictures up in the Lost in Translationalbum, and I put up some pictures from my adventure to the Picasso Exhibit at the Seoul Museum of Art last weekend, although there are no actual photographs of the artwork. You know, what with it being priceless and all.

But there are cute rainbow-colored woodland creatures and a scary rabbitwoman statue!

Also, this right here might be the funniest thing I've ever seen.

touristocratic

Tomorrow is finally ELECTION DAY in Seoul, which means that 1. The election dancemobiles (have I not mentioned them? I will, I swear) can go back to whence they came, and 2. I get the day off work! Can I get a hell yeah?

So, here are the things that I should do on my day off:

- pack boxes to ground-mail to myself so that packing is less difficult in two weeks
- write postcards so that they will arrive in the N.A. before I do
- explore parts of the city I haven't in the past 11 months
- burn my pictures to cd
- buy "souvenirs", since I don't feel that I have any, other than a paper lantern and some postcards

Things I want to do:

- lounge and drink coffee in my apartment
- watch the two episodes of Grey's Anatomy that I am behind
- watch Ed Norton be his deliciously Ed Norton self
- read my book, which has been woefully neglected as of late
- actually cook a meal that isn't an egg sandwich
- play Scrabble These things will be decided in the morning, I think.

You know what? Being a "tourist" for a year is HARD. A few months ago, I could put off adventures to new parts of the city because I had months left to have them in. Now it's down to three weeks, and it's all "gotta-save-money-can't-accumulate-gotta-pack-gotta-see-stuff-dear-God-where-did-the -last-year-GO" up in here. And I tend to feel guilty for staying at home while I'm here, like I really should be out EXPLORING THE CITY in my free time. Even though I have spent most of the last year exploring the city, you know?

To be honest, I really think I've gone to most of the places that I've wanted to in Seoul. Of course, there are always awesome things to check out, and I tend to think of walking to the grocery store as an advnture, but what I mean is that I think I've touristified my way through the Lonely Planet guides like a trooper. A poor, confused trooper who stands out like a sore thumb (what does that even MEAN?), but a trooper nonetheless.

So, I think this weekend I'm going to go to Namdaemun, I feel like I should check out Olympic Stadium just so when people ask me I can say I went there, but I really don't have much desire to do so. And there's a part of me that kinda needs to hit up the Kimchi Field Museum, because really, what good is eating pickled fermented cabbage when you know nothing of its past? (Also, I kind of want to walk in excitedly and then act really indignant that it isn't the Kim Fields Museum. "WHERE ARE THE FACTS OF LIFE MEMORABILIA I WAS PROMISED???")

Um. So anyways.

The past few days of my musical life have been all Leonard Cohen and Neil Diamond and Paul Simon (although that's a new one) for some reason. I'm not sure what this trend indicates. I think it started with this interview though. I have a pretty sizeable crush on Leonard, I gotta say.

It's three a.m. here in the future, so I oughta head to bed. Those episodes of Grey's Anatomy aren't going to watch themselves tomorrow, you know.

taking it personal

So I had kind of a disheartening conversation with someone yesterday about this site. I won't bore you with the details, but what it boiled down to was that he deletes all the emails I send when I update because they're not “personal emails”, and doesn't bother to read the site at all. 

Here's the thing I want you to know. This is not a “blog” for the masses, by any stretch of the imagination. This thing is just for you guys. And “you guys” are a pretty specific group. Fourteen people, to be exact. You are not everyone in my email address book, not a default "send all".

You are the fourteen people who I knew I wanted to keep up with while I'm here, the people who I'd want to share adventures with, the fourteen people who I knew I would want to send pictures and stories to, who would laugh along with me at the insanity of living in a country where shirts say things like “Great Hobo Dandy Farmer” and people leave the hospital in their jammies to go to a soju tent before lights-out.

So, instead of flooding your inboxes with 276 gigs of jpegs that you would never be able to download, and writing the same story 10 times (which I am, admittedly, far too lazy to do),  I figured I would pay a few bucks a month and throw some images and stories up in a common place for all y'all. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Anyone who knows me knows I don't generally send mass emails, since I pretty much despise them. (If you do get an email from me that is going to more than one person, its because for some reason I thought both you and that person would enjoy the video of the narcoleptic puppy, or the scary laughing babies. Based on your particular brand of insanity, you have been CHOSEN.)

Anyways, I will be home in a month, and I'll be taking this down. In the meantime, please know that this is the far from mass-mailing laziness. (Esply since typepad is a bastard and makes me go back and handcode most of the html every single time I post in this &#^@#% thing. But that's another entry.)

So, um, the bottom line is, if you want off the email list, please let me know, because I will be more than happy to take you off if you're annoyed by it. I'M GOOD LIKE THAT.

And hey! If you're really feeling shitty about me not sending you a “personal” email, please take a second to think about the last time you sent me one before you rip into me. 

Goodnight, all.

</sad rant>

 

never trust a skeksi

Um, so this is the best t-shirt in the history of ever:

Yeah, I think that needs to be mine.

the entry in which i address mike directly a perhaps unhealthy amount of times

So, we are off work today because of Children's Day. Unrelatedly, it's also Buddha's birthday, although the big celebration for that was last weekend, for some reason. Which I'm not complaining about, because Mike and I got to hang out at the festivities before he left. Yes, he left. He is currently in PEI, frolicking around Tim Horton's and breathing clean air and actually recognizing all the vegetables in a supermarket that doesn't employ an auctioneer with a megaphone to holler at people from the produce section.

Bastard.

So, the Buddha's birthday festivities were really awesome. (I will try to post some pictures later, when typepad doesn't hate me. ) I even ENJOYED the parade, which is notable since I mostly despise parades, as Mr. Armendariz can attest, since he's my partner in the Parade Abolition Project. (Which, incidentally, needs a new acronym.)  But this one was at night, and it had lots of huge, incredible, lighted paper lantern floats and was just fascinating to watch, if not just with a sort of horrified prescience, since some of them shot FIRE from their mouths. These are PAPER LANTERNS, people. Do the chemistry.

Incidentally, there was also a parade of Buddhists outside my apartment a little while ago, which was kind of neat, since I live in a pretty quiet neighborhood. Well, quiet by Seoul standards, meaning it's flooded with neon and traffic all night, but the grocery store is closed by 10.

Don't worry, none of that explanation made sense to me either.

So anyways. Today, on this lovely Friday off, I:

- finished a book

- started a new book

- took myself out for a lovely brunch to the cutest restaurant ever, where I was treated so nicely and not stared at and where no one tried to teach me how to eat or anything.

Did I mention that foreigners here are routinely accosted by people attempting to show us how to eat? Yeah, it's all sorts of fun.

(Also, Mike, I wish we had found this place before you left because it's 3625 times better than the Kimbap Mall/Heaven, and just as cheap.)

- watched The Squid and The Whale (you should click that site just to hear Dean Wareham's acoustic "Hey You")

- vacuumed and cleaned my room; disposed of approximately 34 pounds of accumulated terrifying yellow dust

- talked to Jim

- bought veggies and dish liquid

- cooked dinner for myself and my roommate and watched some of Match Point, which I think I enjoyed more the second time, and no, not just because of Scarlett Johannsen's rack, Mike.<br>

Now, since it's Friday night, I am going to:

- drink a beer

- watch the new epsiode of Veronica Mars

- miss Mike, since he has been a part of both the above activities for the past ten months

Children's Day is awesome. We should have one of these fuckers every week, for reals.

b-a-n-a-n-a-s

So, my Science class was coloring a picture yesterday. Sarah, a precious little thing who has a tendency to answer questions with whatever English words come to mind (“How does a seed grow, Sarah?” “Happy and windy!”), just got a brand-new package of scented highlighters, and was using these to color her picture. I was sitting next to her, and every new one she pulled out was immediately thrust into my face with the command “Teacher! Smell!”, which I patiently obeyed, since this is my class of drama queens (I call it Kindergarten 90210) and I try to go with the flow as much as possible so as to avoid A Crying Incident. Anyway, the last one was your standard florescent yellow highlighter, and she yelled “Teacher! Bananas!” as she shoved it towards me.

I smelled it, and was like “Wow, it does smell like bananas! Yummy!” and then I was like “Can I EAT it?” and the kids all screamed “NOOOOO!” and laughed like they had never heard anything so hilarious in their 6 long years of life. I'm HILARIOUS on the kindergarten circuit, people, lemme tell you.

So, thinking no more of it, I turned to my right to help Emily spell a word, and less than a minute later I received an urgent tap on my left shoulder. I turned to encounter Sarah, foaming florescently at the mouth like a rabid Chernobyllian puppy, whispering almost incoherently through the froth “Teasher bafroom pease”.

I AM A BAD TEACHER.

(She's okay, for the record. We rinsed her mouth out with 53 gallons of water, and I think it's unlikely she will ever attempt to consume a scented highlighter again. She also may never eat bananas or laugh at my bad jokes ever again, but I think that's a small price to pay for the lesson learned.)

On an entirely different note, Mike is leaving in five days to go home. Yep, the Mike-Erin leg of Runawasia is coming to an end. I'm mostly in denial (“Yay, Mike's staying over for the weekend!” instead of “Mike doesn't have his own apartment anymore!”), and trying not to stab him as he repeatedly mentions how many fresh mussels and diner breakfasts he is going to consume next week. (Let's not even speak of the Tim Horton's.) I'm crazy jealous of him, though--he's going home to spend the summer writing alone in his grandmother's cottage in rural PEI. Hey, Mike? Stephen King called, he wants his life back.

Speaking of home, can you believe that I will be home in less than two months? And also that my definition of “home” is now just “North America”? Everything is relative, indeed.

P.S. Also, yesterday, an 8-year old boy showed up to class wearing a shirt that said  “do you recall, raised as G's, we looked out the window and blazed the weed”. Ain't THAT some shit.