Apologies for embodying the American steretype

Dear Miryang,

I'm sorry.

I know you may not have taken particular offense to my actions on Friday night, but I am aware that I made a spectacle of myself in your quiet and peaceful streets and family run establishments.

I am sorry for pounding beers and Soju shots at Coco Rico and making loud an inappropriate conversation as myself and the other foreigners sat on the patio deck.

I am sorry for blacking out as soon as we relocated to the interior of Coco Rico. The following apologies will be for what happened during that mysterious hour that I do not recall.

I am sorry for making my friends very uncomfortable by speaking French poorly and urging them to start chanting various exclamations with no success. I am sorry for consistently telling everyone how good looking they were and how wonderful we were because we all had nice teeth and good bone structure. It is unfortunate that I spoke loudly of my liberal political opinions and my desire to organize and host a beer olympics this summer. I am sorry for singling out the new friends I made by accusing them of being a part of a private Hagwon underground riddled with gambling, prostitution, violence and territory wars. My apologies for insisting that it is time to "mul" it, which is the Korean word for water, and was neither used or pronounced correctly.

I am also sorry to the people at Coco Rico. I am sorry for allowing my drunk self to interrupt your dining experience by practicing how to say hello in Korean and introducing myself. I am sorry to the staff for making them hug me and telling them how beautiful they were as we held hands to and from the bathroom.

Also, I am sorry that the song "call me maybe" is so good, and I felt the need to stand up and sing it loudly to the entire restaurant.

I am sorry for insisting upon a street photo shoot, and dragging it out due to an inability to focus. To the taxi driver who apparently took us to the singing room, I am sure that I was unruly in the backseat.

To the other people at the No Ray Bang, I am sorry for screaming Whitney Houston at the top of my lungs and insisting that Backstreet Boys and Gloria Gaynor were in fact, the music of our generation. I am sorry for standing and dancing on the furniture and playing the tambourine...which I am sure was not on beat. I am NOT sorry to the gross Korean man on the scooter outside who I had to push away on the street because he was being a complete jerk.

Also, I am sorry to my vocal chords, for ruining them. I am sorry to the toilet, for throwing up in it. I am sorry to my parents, for having to read about this. I am sorry to my friends who had to listen to my antics all night. I am sorry for being labeled the "american stereotype." And I am sorry for being so awesome and fun that the majority of Koreans don't know what to do.


Please forgive me Miryang, because I have a feeling that this will all happen again in due time.

Love always,

Annie G.

Ps. I am NOT sorry for my face in this picture...which is hilarious.

A Day in the Life

So I wanted to give you all a little looksie into my daily routine....

Mostly because I am feeling cocky today and I want to brag about how awesome my life is.

That and I miss you?

So my typical day:

I wake up around 7 and leave the house at 7:30.

At 7:30 I walk about 30 minutes to the train station...where I am listening to my ipod to my "Overly dramatic life walking music" playlist. This is my 30 minutes of alone time where I wake up, and also think I am living in a 90s music video. If it's raining I take the bus...I'm not THAT dramatic.

At 8:13 I catch my 8 minute train to Samnangin. Usually I meet up with Mi Gyung, the Special Education teacher, who holds my hand and giggles as we spend the 8 minutes pointing to objects along the way and exchanging the vocabulary in English and in Korean.

At 8:21 I arrive at Samnangin and walk 2 minutes to my school. There I am greeted by the students ("Hello Annie Teacher!") and my buddy Yong..who I have since renamed Jimmy. Jimmy and I exchange pleasantries and I head into the school, where I change into flipflops (Koreans do not wear shoes inside buildings) and make my way up to "The English Zone."

First period I usually either A) Zone out on Facebook B) Send Emails C) Nurse my hangover or D) all of the above. Occassionally I will find the motivation to prepare something for my classes.

At 9:50 my 3rd graders come in. Their homeroom teachers, an older man who speaks NO english and wears suspenders, drop them off and hangs out in the hallway in case any of them get too far out of line. I then proceed to have them repeat phrases after me, play games, dance around, and do my bidding.

After 2nd period, students are made to walk around in circles outside for excersise. The fat students are encouraged to run. I am not kidding.

3rd period brings in my 4th graders, who are the most colorful group. I usually make them act out plays and choreograph dance routines.

5th graders may be my favorite. They are a very intelligent class, and they like to make jokes and laugh at the ridiculously awkward videos I am forced to show them.

Then...there is lunch. The great adventure of the day. Sometimes it is delicious. Sometimes you are pulling tentacles out of your teeth. Lunch is always followed by a school wide brushing of the teeth. It is BYOB of course (bring your own brush).

The 6th graders occassionally show up. Their homeroom teacher is almost fluent in English, so they sometimes don't need me to teach them anything. When they do show up, the class is very fun, though they usually make side handed comments regarding a potential relationship with me and their teacher, which is always sufficiently uncomfortable.

Then...the best part of the day...the kindergarteners. I usually walk into the kindergarten and find them all lying on the floor, sprawled out (I am unsure why as both kindergarten teachers speak no english). They look at me with their little round faces and light up as if I am Buddha's gift of creation. "Annie Teacher you are so beautiful!!!" They cheer, as I fight back the tears of cute overload. I tell them they are beautiful and they giggle. Then I make them point to things and say what it is. "BLUE TABLE" "ORANGE CLOCK" YELLOW SOCK" "ANGRY BIRD". Then I sit them down and show them shapes and they repeat after me as the squirm around on the floor like little bugs. Finally, I put on music and they dance around me like I am some Korean Pied Piper. Then I high five them and tell them I will see them next time. Later in the day I find them hidden in various locations throughout the school: on the slide, in a cubbyhole, in the library, on the stairs eating ants..etc.

Typically the rest of the afternoon is filled with either good ol' Annie alone time, or my second grade entourage comes to visit me. I challenge the entourage to games of Temple Run, Angry Birds, or I make them dance to American Classics like "Single Ladies" or "Call me Maybe" (ok call me maybe is a Canadian song, but Canada is basically America. SUCK ON THAT CANADA!). Sometimes I go find Jimmy and he teaches me Korean. Other times my Principal finds me, and HE teaches me Korean...however he focuses on teaching me how to order alcohol at bars.

Usually around 3, Danny finds me somehow and tells me of an activity I am encouraged to participate in. Sometimes it's mountain climbing. Other times it is staff-wide volleyball.

During Volleyball, we all suit up and divide into teams. We kick all of the students off the gym floor and make them keep score and bring us water, alcohol and food (again I am not joking).

This is followed by an INTENSE game of volleyball where people have gotten balls spiked at their faces, serves bounced off the backs of their craniums, glasses broken, bruises, curds, stains, you name it. typically we will play for an hour or so, take a beer and Soju break, then play for another hour. Often times my principal will call out "hey Annie" and serve it straight for me. Mostly I giggle because the Koreans have adopted American volleyball verbiage and will call out "nice-ah serve-ah" or "mine-ah" or just tell me that I am a "good vorreybarr prayer" which is always a nice compliment.

On mountain climbing days, we trek up a local hiking trail which is like a straight vertical incline. At the top we drink and eat barbecue pork and have long conversations about life, politics, nature....well at least that's what I assume is going on....because everyone is just speaking Korean. Occasionally I can tell hey are
Talking about me due to general pointing in my direction or saying my name, but I enjoy the smaller mysteries in life and don't pressure to ask what exactly they are saying about the crazy "waygook" teacher.

After a long day of awesomeness I go home around 5, where I meet up either the other foreigners and have dinner, go shopping, go for a walk or read by the river. Sometimes I will sit and think to myself what a problem it will be when one day I will have to have a real person job, where I don't hang out with kobabies everyday, where I can't drink on the job with my boss, where we don't play games after hours or hike up mountains. What will I do when I have to actually grow up and settle down and live in reality?

But mostly I just reflect at the craziness of the past year and how lucky I feel to have such cool experiences...even if I don't know what anyone is saying to me ever. Sometimes I think it's better that way.

Lunch

Today I went to lunch.

I thought I was eating noodles.

Upon further inspection I found it was little salted eels.

One of them got lodged in my tooth.

Thank the lord almighty for floss.

An insiders glimpse of Korea...part 2

If there is one thing I am already sure of here in Korea...

...it is IMPOSSIBLE to guess anyone's age here.

Maybe it's the obsession over sun protection. Or maybe Korean people just don't stop aging after 17, but I swear there is NO WAY of knowing how old anyone is...and it's almost frightening.

For example, today my adorable coworker Yong was helping me learn Korean (which, may I add, is as difficult as learning how to play piano from Helen Keller). I asked him how old he was. Now, by my standards, Yong doesn't look a day over 19, but knowing he is Korean and works with me, I figured a safe estimate was 25.

Homeboy is 35 years old.


Let me also preface this with the fact that Koreans count age slightly differently than we do back in the land of the red white and barbecue. Say you are born in November here in Korea, at the dawn of the new year, you are considered 1 year old. Then come the following November you turn 2. So most Koreans will quote you an age that is one year older than if we were going to ID them at a bar (which we surely would because they all look so young).

Koreans are very healthy people (excluding the chain smoking, public loogie hocking, and the hours spent playing video games in computer cafes). They are very active, constantly walking around and exercising. They eat healthy, and everything they do or say they will follow with the line "It is good for your hearth." They mean health. Sometimes l sounds can be vicious. Ask them to talk about their "whole body."

They are obsessed with shielding their skin from the sun. Not only do they appreciate the health benefits of not looking like a piece of leather, a la USA, but also, if your skin is darker than it indicates you likely work on a farm and are of a lower social ranking.

My guess is these minor obsessions, partnered with the apparent inability to grow body hair, is the reason for perplexing ages.

Another one of my teachers is 31, married with a daughter. Thought he was 20 at most.

One of the women teachers was a little older. I though maybe 40. She is 56.

It also makes me wonder about these old men and ladies I see walking the streets (and occasionally dumping in the streets....see glimpse part 1). How old are they?! If I think they are 70 then there is a good chance they are over 100.

Maybe it's all the gimchi, or maybe they are just doing something right that we are missing out on. I mean, I figured our culture of fried food and childhood obesity was on the right track...but perhaps we should take a step back and reassess our priorities in the west....and always ID a Korean because that shit is a mystery.


In an unrelated note, these are some of my second grade cronies. I made them dance to "Call me maybe" and "single ladies"....old habits die hard.

Hiking Mountains and Befriending Buddhist Monks

Poor Greg.

Greg is my 6'7" South African neighbor. He lives right next door to me, and within a month's time I am sure he is going to regret his living arrangements enormously.

Every day I knock on Greg's door with a new adventure. "Greg let's go to dinner! Greg let's go to the river! Greg let's go pound beers!"

Unfortunately for Greg, I am not asking if he wishes to partake in these activities with me, nay, I am demanding. Sometimes he tries to get out of things, "Not today Annie, I am going to sit and watch movies." Dear dear Greg, if only it was that easy to get out of such things!

So Saturday I knock on Greg's door and tell him that Daucy and I are going to climb the temple at 3:00. The temple is about a 5 minute walk from my door, and sits atop a mountain overlooking the Miryang River. Now, because we had spent Friday Night drinking, Greg was hesitant to do this, however after much peer pressure he obliged. We began a climb to the top, and found that we stumbled upon a major traditional ceremony up by the temple. There were Korean dancers, women wielding swords, singers, tae kwon do masters....basically it was rad.

We sat in the temple and watched, and because we are the obvious foreigners, we are just as entertaining for them. People talked with us, took pictures of us, and laughed with us. We continued up the mountain until we got to a big brick wall at the top. We passed a few crazy looking bugs and animals along the way.

"Greg are any of these bugs poisonous?"

"No Annie, there are not many things in Korea that can harm you...including the people."

Saturday night was another night of drinking in a dingy pool hall...and the next day I was ready for another adventure.

Rich from Minnesota told me of a decent hike a little ways down the road.

"Greg, Rich and I are going on another hike at 3 today."

Now what I didn't know is how seriously Koreans take their hiking. We are all dressed in regular clothes and sneakers, with a couple of bottles of water between us. All the Koreans on the mountain are dressed to the nines in visors, sunglasses, full body gear, visors, backpacks...etc.

After a grueling 2 hour hike up the mountain, we reached the summit, and saw the beautiful scenery of Milyang, and immediately forgot about all the mouthbreathing it took to get there. On the way down, we were "Anyong Ha-se-yo"ing everyone, riding on the high of our recent accomplishment, when all of a sudden we here an American voice.

"Hello How's it going."

We did a double take, and saw a Buddhist Monk, who we later will find out is originally from Fargo. He was very kind and told us the direction to go to his temple and get water. Once we arrived at the temple, we were greeted by a traditional Korean buddhist monk....on a Smartphone, which he handed to us. It was our friend from the mountain top! We told him our information and I gave him my email because I want to arrange a temple stay. The monk took us into a cave in the side of the temple, lit completely with lanterns and lights, and gave us bananas and pears. Then he took us to the top of the temple, where he served us Rose tea and nuts as we looked out the giant window to the Mountain.

We talked for a while, and then our friend called us back and invited us back for dinner later this week.

So lets be honest, there is a 90% chance I am going to accidentally become a buddhist at some point this year....and I am pumped!!!

Peace
Annie G.

An insiders glimpse of korea...part 1

OK so to get a better understanding of my everyday, I would like to share a series of cultural insights with you to better paint the picture.

It is hard to find where to begin, it is like living in a cartoon over here.

Currently, I do not have internet in my apartment. In fact, I type now surrounded by teenage boys playing hours of computer games in a PC room. I don't much mind that there is no internet, as it gives me time to focus on myself, listen to music, try and learn Korean, and other such impossible tasks.

If I walk outside my apartment door and lean out the window in the staircase, I can occassionally pick up a signal.

I am still adjusting my body the time difference here, and have been waking up a little bit early (which for any of you who know me, this is odd because I am surely NOT a morning person). Some times I walk down by the river, or near the temple where I can find some intense scenic views....



or



Beautiful right?


So yesterday morning I woke up to the sun shining through my window. The birds were chirping outside and the air was fresh. I sat up refreshed and ready for the day, thinking to myself "How lucky am I?! I have an amazing opportunity at my fingertips, I have beauty outside of my window every day! I have an amazing support system at home, in fact, let me go see if any of them sent me an email!"

I got out of bed with a spring in my step! I looked at the sun beams shining through my window. I smiled at the birds and shouted "I love you!" to the cats and dogs on the street. I spun around and danced my way into my kitchen, where I poured myself a glass of orange juice. "Whoever invented oranges was amazing! What a fantastic beverage!" I skipped to my front door and glided out like I was entering a royal ball. Down the stairs to the lobby, and I opened the window to lean out and get the signal. Oh the beauty as I opened the window and looked straight to the fabulous mountains that lay just out of reach of the city limits.

I glanced a little further down at the rooftops...such magnificent structures they are! No wonder this culture is so ancient, they have been doing it right for years.

My eyes slid down further, to the windows of the houses where laundry hung on the clotheslines, and chili peppers hung out to dry.

Then I looked down, to wear the gardens are usually growing in peoples front yards, and bicycles are perched ever so poetically against picket fences.

And instead I just saw an old woman, crouched down, confused face, dropped trousers, taking a dump right in the middle road.

And now the fun begins...

First day of school

Cue scene
School, in the middle of nowhere
No AC
About 200 screaming Korean children
1 foreigner (me)
1 other English speaker
1 self-proclaimed alcoholic principal

Recipe for success.

I walked to my school (which I found by pure dumb luck because I had no directions there) and walked in to be greeted by Danny, and the other teachers and students. They had a morning meeting in the auditorium, where I was pushed on stage to greet them and introduce myself. Then I was shown to my classroom

My class was scheduled to begin at 10:50. Naturally at 930 the bell chimed with my students all in their seats. With no books, no curriculum at hand, and no instruction from the co-teachers, I just had to wing it.

I introduced myself, told them about where I am from, asked them their names, and what they knew about America and what they could tell me about Korea.

Then I opened up the floor for questions.

Students- "teacher how old are you?"
Me-"How old do you think I am?"
S- "100!"
M-"I am 24"
S- "Our teacher is 25!"
M- "cool"
S- "Teacher do you have boyfriend?"
M-"No students, I do not have a boyfriend"
S-"do you like our teacher? He can be your boyfriend!"

Awkwardness ensued.

Of course, I thought it was hilarious and the kids are so adorable. They kept looking at me and miming big eyes with their hands! They also called me lord of the rings because of my abundance of jewelry.

Danny came in and whisked me away to a meeting that apparently was going on at the department of education that I was supposed to attend.

This was where I met all my new Miryang friends!
Most of the other foreigners in this town are from South Africa, and are a blast! We all met up, discussed curriculum, went to dinner, and planned to meet up the next evening with a few other americans and British in the town.

After Pregaming in my apartment with my new south African friends, we pounded 4 bottles of soju, and met up with the others at a chicken restaurant.

Like in turkey, one of the fun things about meetups here are the old school tactics of communication. For example, I got home to my door with a note from my South African neighbor Greg that said "meet outside at 815 for beers with Rich." Its like every day is a secret mission.

We pounded another 6 or 7 bottles of soju at the chicken restaurant and then decided that since it has been a week since my arrival in Korea, we needed to go to a "no ray bang" which is a singing room. Basically, you get a bunch of people together, preferably drunk people, and go to a little room with microphones, a karaoke list, and a tv screen, and a bunch of beers that you smuggle in.

It then deteriorates into a crazy scene of drunken debauchery where people are simultaneously passing out, dancing on seats, and singing bad karaoke songs.

I knew I would like it here.......

A weekend in Busan

OK, before I explain the weekend at the Sand Festival, I must explain a facet of my personality known only as "The G."

Many of you have met The G in the past, or seen The G's antics whether it be online or on stage at a Parliament Funkadelic show. But for those of you who are not familiar with The G, she is my party persona, and when The G is out to party...she goes hard. Not only that, but The G seems to somehow get herself into the craziest of situations.
The G was on hiatus for a little while this past year, but since January she has been back in full force, and lets just say that international boundaries do not hold The G back.
So this weekend was the Sand Festival in Busan...

I went to meet up with a lovely girl who I had connected with through the recruiter I am working with. We met up in Busan and walked around, meeting up with some of her other Teacher friends, and looking at the sand sculptures.

First post-pregaming stop was at "Thursdays Party" which is an acceptable bar to go to on any day of the week. We sat next to a group of Koreans who had just gone to the Busan Giants baseball game. Also, let me rephrase, we sat next to some Koreans and a Japanese girl. We knew she was Japanese because one of the Korean boys kept saying "She is Japanese!!!"

Also, let me interject- gin and tonics here are NOT what I am used to.

But nay, twas not the gin that did me in, for here in Korea they are famous for their Soju, a substance that smells like rubbing alcohol and causes a drunk that is unlike anything else. If there is one thing I am already sure about in Korea, Soju will be my eventual demise.

After Thursdays party we went to "Blue Monkey" a club CRAWLING with foreigners doing crazy things. Naturally I made a b-line to the stage where I spent the majority of the night (when I wasnt on the tables)

Finally it was time to leave, and the scene outside Blue Monkey was just as insane as what was inside. Foreigners crowding the streets, dancing on cars, standing in front of traffic, sleeping outside of stores. I looked around and knew then that coming to Korea was the best idea of my life.

The next morning I decided to travel back to beautiful haeundae beach for a lovely day of self reflection and realization.

"where are you from!" asked the young girl and her mother walking next to me on the sidewalk.

"I am from America" I replied.

"Ahhh I love Engrish!!"

Thus began my day with my new little Korean friends.

They were lovely people, and I introduced myself. They introduced themselves too, but upon hearing their names and struggling for pronunciation, the young girl said I could just call her "Betty."

Betty and her mom were so nice, we walked up the beach and explored the sand festival. At one point they shuttled me into a tent filled with children, I was told to sit down with the children to paint a windchime.

We then went to an observatory on the beach where the second APEC summit was held. It was a breathtaking view of the beach and of Busan. Betty and her mom would point to things and tell me the Korean word, and I would tell them the English equivalent. After a few hours of this, I found I needed to get back to Miryang, and we went to lunch, where Betty's mother told me I was her new sister, followed by a tearful goodbye at the train station.

I recently received an email from Betty inviting me back for dinner with her family. I can't wait!