Vegans in Korea

I can't help but feel for these poor people. Regardless of what they order, Korean chefs always find cause to throw some animal products into their regularly vegan-friendly dishes. Perhaps they feel they are doing the foreigners a favor by adding a bit of extra protein to the roughage. Accordingly, the kimchi tray following a vegan meal is always piled high with the offending products and appendages.It must take an inordinate amount of patience and understanding for a vegan to ever want to ever eat-out in this environment. I admire their principles but am myself too weak to maintain their rock-hard resolve. (Bring on the Bulgogi!)

The Sob Story

So now I've really gone and done it. Last week, at Taekwondo, I was executing a side-kick with my right leg when the big toe of my left foot chose to stick to the mat beneath me while the rest of my foot rotated counter-clockwise. I heard and felt an ominous crack and swiftly sunk to the floor to inspect my delinquent appendage. All this occurred out of the sight of my instructor who then entered the gym with a look of puzzlement on his face regarding my strange situation. Of course we couldn't converse about what had happened, since neither of us speaks the same language, so we both just carried on as if nothing had. The centre of my left foot swelled slightly and adopted a mauve hue, but apart from a continual dull ache I really had nothing to complain about. Denial has always provided a swift remedy for many of my lesser ailments.

Today, however, as I was executing a turning face-kick, in full-view of my instructor, the baby toe of my right foot decided to take after it's uncle and stick to the mat as the rest of my foot twisted counter-clockwise in an effort to bring me full-circle. The result was an even more ominoius crack and another trip to the floor for Yours Truly. My instructor seemed embarrassed by this reaction and waited for me to ascend, but I was not so quick to rise or dismiss this potential second breakage. Don't get the impression that my Master is a heartless slave-driver: he's not. It's just that I often fall down (usually very awkwardly) when executing difficult kicks, and he has learned to ignore our collective embarrassment for my sake. After a moment he asked me if I was "all right" and I lied, of course, and said "yes"; so we continued our lesson (even though I came to the point of tears on several occasions). When he was though with me I biked home and went to work.

By the end of my second ESL class I was ready to admit I needed to see a doctor. My baby toe had doubled in size and turned a violent shade of violet and I was experiencing shooting pains that ascended my right leg every time I stepped down and which were affecting my concentration in-class. Fortunately I had a "break" (Ha!) in my schedule today, so my Boss and I walked over to the local clinic and got me in and out, with x-rays, a diagnosis, a splint and a prescription, in less than 40mins. Total Cost: 34,500 Won (~$40 CAD).

What I now know is that I didn't break anything in my left foot last week, but I did break a bone in my right foot today. I have to go back tomorrow to have a follow-up appointment, and possibly a more permanent cast. I don't think I'll be able to do my Black Belt testing next month, as I was supposed to do, unless I can bribe the doctor to give me a soft cast that I can put on and take off when I choose.

So my fate, for the time-being, is to remain sedentary: something I find very hard to do. I'm consoling myself with movies, but the English selection at our local video store is sadly slight. I am not asking for pity. More than anything I'm just annoyed at my stupid sticky toes and their crippling inclinations to act independently.

All this for a broken baby toe?

I guess it serves me right for eyeing Neil Armstrong's space boots and wondering how I might incorporate them into my wardrobe...

Double-Take

I'm somewhat certain that some of my students experienced one of those classic "made 'ya look twice" moments tonight as I left the hagwon.

There was a smaller than average turn-out for my evening essay class tonight: only the 3 girls who usually whisper their way through our discussions, in their native language (not mine), bothered to show up. The lack of respect between myself and these girls is entirely one-sided. For my part, I think they are all intelligent and interesting individuals. Getting them to reveal such aspects of their respective personalities, IN ENGLISH, however, is EXTREMELY difficult.

Having decided to abandon our text book in favor of "free talking", our halting conversation drifted to the topic of marriage. In Korea the "ideal age" for a woman to get married is 25. In Korea, I am considered to already be 25, as one's age is calculated from one's date of conception, rather than from one's date of birth. Twittering away in Korean, the girls asked when I was getting married and whether or not I had a boyfriend, fiance, prospects, etc. (Yes, even 14 year old girls feel perfectly entitled to pose these questions and then ridicule my unfavorable replies.) I did not need to be fluent in Korean to understand that they were mocking me and perhaps implying that I would/could never get married. Fair enough. At work I'm a virtual "old school marm" who has been cautioned about appearing "too sexy" in public (bare shoulders are OUT) and who, by 10:00pm, is tired, dilapidated and annoyed. Sure I don't seem like marriage material to them. None of my middle or high school teachers seemed remotely matrimonial (I didn't have the pleasure of being taught by Mr. Day). I was not offended, merely wearily amused at their tenacious discourtesy.

All that aside, we wrapped up our class early due to their unwillingness to contribute and my eagerness to get home, and it was because this premature finish that my wonderful double-take moment occurred. After putting up the classroom chairs and ordering my materials for the following day I went to the washroom, let down my hair and brushed it, washed my face and donned my green and pink "Von Dutch" hat, ready to head home. The girls were still standing at the entrance of our academy and as I brushed down the stairs and out the door there was an audible pause in their incessant conversation. Yes, I do believe, if only for a moment, they mistook their crotchety old teacher for someone who might actually have someplace to be and people to meet every Friday night. Someone a cute older boy might actually consider dating or maybe even marrying in the future. SHOCKING, I know.

It was a vainly validating moment for Yours Truly. Even if it was just a fleeting moment in my otherwise mundane day.

Quality ESL Teaching in Mokpo

Let's look at Jessica's shopping list for this week, shall we?

Hmmm.... Floss, flax oil, grape oil... nothing out of the ordinary there.

But "Musterd" and "Jinger"? I think it'll be pretty hard to find those things here in rural Mokpo. They're English delicacies known only to the very best Western chefs. Too bad though. I love a good jinger and musterd sandwich.

Let me remind you that she is the one with the teaching qualifications. Not I.

(I am fully aware that it is unfair of me to ridicule my roommate on this forum in this fashion. Since, however, she posted this list on the shared refrigerator in our shared apartment I feel that photos are fair game. If anyone wishes to offer some defense on her behalf I'm all ears.)

The Sculpture Garden

This is one of the few places in Mokpo where I can sometimes remember the person I was before I came to Korea...

"Is N.Y.U. for you?"

I've begun to question whether or not I really desire/require to study at NYU. There is no denying that the the school is offering the program of my DREAMS: specifically the school of Journalism's Cultural Reporting & Criticism program; however a number of other factors have recently shaken my resolve to study there.

First is the cost issue: Tuition alone for the 2005-2006 school year, in which a student would complete 24 credit "points", was $24,576.00 USD's. As a Master's student I would be required to complete 32-40 points to gain my degree. The per-point rate (not including the other administrative, application and miscellaneous fees) is roughly calculated at $1,024.00 per point. Bear in mind that none of the figures I just mentioned include the cost of actually living in New York City, which puts a further damper on the whole grandiose idea of studying abroad.
I'm not saying that the tuition fees in Canada are anything to laugh at, but they're certainly more manageable from the perspective of paying off school-related loans in the future.

Second, I must be hard on myself and ask: if your dream is to work as a journalist in Canada, and you have absolutely no desire to be the next CNN bimbo, why do you need to educate yourself outside of your own country? Is there some profound journalistic wellspring located in downtown Manhattan that cannot be tapped north of the 49th parallel? And could you not make your own efforts to become enlightened in the specific cultural and critical domains being discussed "down South"? And if you were to study in New York, wouldn't you be unlikely to make many connections within the Canadian broadcasting community? Wouldn't it therefore be more difficult to "break into" the northern scene? And if you were offered a sweet position working in New York after you'd finished your studies would you be able to turn it down (considering your financial depravity)? And should you really be squandering your sweet skills "down South" when the country you truly love and respect is your hypothermic homeland?

The third factor to consider is it the questionable quality of American journalism at this point in time. With the media acting as the uncritical, unquestioning, uninformative minion of the country's HIGHLY QUESTIONABLE government, I cannot help but wonder if studying there would be a benefit or a detriment to the development of my own journalistic skills. Can I be educated by those for whom I have little respect and even less faith? With every major media network in the country owned and operated by only 5 wealthy conglomerates who have the power to pick and choose what news suits them and their affiliates, is this an environment in which I can gain journalistic integrity, abide by the ethics of the trade, and perhaps even critique some of the institutions that have made "America the Great" the America we hate? And will I feel comfortable learning in an environment where sentiments are remarkably "right-wing", whereas I am quite the opposite?

Fourth is the annoyance of the Graduate Record Examinations (GRE's): having to take and study for them here, in South Korea, while I am working 55 hours a week, testing for my Black Belt in Taekwondo, and trying to enjoy the limited time I have left (when I am not sleeping or eating, that is). Honestly, I was excited when I first started looking into the whole process but now it's turning into a nightmare. When was the last time I even thought about an "integer", let alone solved a quadratic equation?!?!? The whole thing just seems like a big headache that I'd rather do without, thankyouverymuch.

So this is my conundrum. I would welcome any ideas and opinions, be they negative, positive, or merely neutral. I am really having a hard time with this one. There isn't really anyone in Mokpo with whom I can talk to about it, so I'm putting it up to you. There's no rush. Applications aren't due until December 15th, 2006, so we've got some time... What says you?

No-Go for Togo

South Korea has just won their first World Cup match against Togo 2:1. It was actually a very exciting game, and since none of my students showed up for their 9:20pm - 11:00pm class I was permitted to leave work early to join the masses in the local park, where hundreds of "Red Devils" had congregated to watch the game on a big screen in the open air. A drunk reveler took it upon himself to locate a single seat for me amidst the masses and furnish me with some blow-up batons so that I might cheer and support along with the rest of the crowd. IT was quite charming, although he did smell like he just walked out of a brewery. It really was the thought that counted. Everyone around me also took me under their wings, appreciating my Team Korea jersey and my obvious interest in the game. I was hugged, given popcorn and cotton candy, and slapped on the back numerous times: congratulating me for my interest. (All this came after I clarified that I'm not an American, of course. "Waygook"= Foreigner (neutral), "Meegook"= American (derogative).)

The game finished at midnight and I doubt there will be an end to the horn-honking and shouting for at least a few hours. Nevertheless I will attempt to sleep. This may prove to be a very exciting time to be in Korea. Let's all hope that Korea continues to perform well, shall we? Yes, we shall.

Wayfaring Fish

After a 2-day absence Wanda appeared today, literally out of the blue, to share in her daily portion of fish food. Where she went: I haven't the foggiest. I'm trying not to think too much about it because there really isn't any answer. She must have been in the tank somewhere... But I swear I just cleaned it last week! I'm beginning to think it was an alien abduction. Seriously! Stranger things have happened here in Mokpo. I kid you not!

World Cup Fever

It has begun.
A wave of red has washed over Mokpo.
The World Cup started last night and already there is nary a Korean person to be seen who is not wearing crimson on some part of their body. It's enough to make a person feel as though she's gone mad!
But I do have my own Red Devil paraphernalia close at hand and you know I'm going to be in the bar screaming with the rest of the loons when the ball drops against Togo next Tuesday. But until then I am maintaining my composure.
It's only civilized.

Seeing is Believing

While my parents were touring Asia there were a couple of home-land comforts that they did not wish to do without. Included on that roster was a morning coffee at Starbucks and a bagle to boot. The barristas in Busan got to know us so well, in fact, that they gave us some "Eco Beans" to thank us for our patronage. The seeds have since sprouted here in my Mokpo apartment, and they actually have the word "Starbucks" inscribed on the outer surface of the sprouted bean. It actually seems mighty un-"Eco Friendly" to mulitate the plants in this fashion, however, since comsumerism rules here in Korea the beans are seen as Jack and the Beanstock's wet dream come true. I'm slightly concerned about the progeny I'll eventually harvest from these coffee company plants. I am, however, going to ingore my wild sci-fi fantasies and simply enjoy the satisfaction of reaping something living from the soil.

Where's Wanda?

Shortly after rousing myself out of bed this morning I went to offer fishy friends some sustenance only to find that my plural fish now seemed to be singular. To be sure that this wasn't merely a grammatical and visual error on my part I spent the better half of 5 minutes watching, tapping and prodding the tank and its environs for my frilly friend. I came up one fish short.

Bob has been acting strange lately. He's taken to swimming up and down (vertically) the walls of the tank at such an accelerated speed I am worried he might be preparing for a bit-part in "Free Willy 7". Or... perhaps the recent jolt of extra protein in his diet has prompted him to do strange things...?

Should I even begin to thing that Bob ate Wanda? He always seemed like such a docile goldfish. Could he possibly be the perpetrator of this fish-napping?

I'm still waiting to find a stinky fish carcass somewhere on my floor indicating Wanda's failed attempts at fishy fame, but until that time I'm going to be keeping a close eye on "Bob", if that is, in fact, his real name...

Holiday!

Today is Remembrance Day in Korea: the day that all living people celebrate and honour those who have sacrificed their lives for this country, and there have been many. They too have a moment of silence, however it is at 10:00am rather than 11:00am. I'm sure you'll all be pleased to know that our Remembrance Day, which falls on November 11th (the final day of WW1), is also recognized here. Unfortunately it is celebrated as "Peppero Day", the day when the beloved Peppero (a.k.a. "Pocky" in Canada) chocolate cookie sticks are distributed to the masses for the sake of consumerist interests. I mean, come on guys! It does make sense: 11/11 = four straight-up Peppero sticks and one slanted one. The Roman numeral #1 was invented with this holiday in mind! World-War-Two, Shmworld-war-shmoo! It's all about the Peppero's YO!

It being a legitimate day-off for all people, a bunch of us packed into a bus and headed out to one of the many islands which bespeckle Korea's south-western coast. We enjoyed a day of sun, sand, surf and relaxation. With my SPF 40 in tow it was an amazing day that only got better when I discovered Charles, the crab, who was high-tailing it across the beach at an incredible pace. But he was no match for my bikini-clad stealth! I caught up with him and introduced him to all my mates. He was rather charming and even posed for a few pictures. Norma Desmond, eat your heart out!

Who the heck came up with that?

If you've ever wondered where phrases like "eat your heart out", "I'll be a monkey's uncle", and "I haven't got a pot to piss in" originated, check out the following web site:

http://members.aol.com/MorelandC/HaveOriginsData.htm

I was shocked and amused to identify and understand the many idioms that pervade the English language. Warning: once you start reading it's hard to leave the site because there are just so many interesting origins behind the ridiculous things we say.

P.S. These types of idioms drive ESL students CRAZY! They cause my older students no end of grief when they appear in their reading materials, as their understood meanings bear little to no relation to their literal meanings. Imagine me trying to explain to a class full of clueless ESL students why "knock on wood" is a request for good luck... Yeah, I needed all the luck I could get, thank you very much!

The cat's meow

Apparently my adopted kitten-while-in-Korea has given his snuggle of approval to the black leather jacket I purchased in Argentina. Although Seth belongs to Angus, he is definitely helping me through my days with love nudges and gentle purrs. His fashion sense is also impeccable, if I do say so myself (!).

Now I've gone and done it!

Ever the adventurous "biker babe" that I am, I decided to ride my motorcycle to my Korean teacher's wedding today. The weather was gorgeous and sunny and perfect for biking/wedding so I donned my prettiest skirt, hopped on my Hog and high-tailed it to the wedding hall. What I didn't consider was the bare skin factor and the hot hot heat of my many exhaust pipes. No sooner had I gone a few kilometers, but I felt a deep burning sensation on my right calf. At the next traffic light I verified that yes, I had scorched my lower leg on my motorcycle. It's going to leave an ugly scar, but at least I'll always have bodily proof that I, Tracy Fuller, owned and operated a "Hog" during my brief stint in Mokpo, South Korea. Indeed, after seeing me ride my bike in a short skirt, a black leather jacket and knock-off Ray-Ban's I invite all Korean Biker Babes to eat their hearts out!

Ferocious Flatmates

I committed a grievous error the other day. There were 2 salmon steaks left in the freezer of our apartment by the previous residents which neither Jessica nor I had claimed. The other day Jess let me know she was taking one and asked if I wanted the other. I said I did and thought nothing of it. Then I noticed a salmon steak sitting in the refrigerator thawing. Remembering that Jess had said she "was taking one" almost a week prior I assumed that she had already eaten hers and that this was the lone salmon steak left to thaw into oblivion if I didn't do something about it. So I marinated it in lemon and dill and ate the damn thing. Of course it turned out that the second steak was still somewhere in the freezer and I had just ruined a well-planned dinner. I am the unthinking insensitive asshole in this matter -- admittedly. But I thought the passive-aggressive note left for me to find on my return from work was too charming to go without a photo. Apparently sharing is not one of my strong points.