Week Two: Normalization, Shuffling Feet, and Stupid Games

Weekly novel for your distraction.

01.09.2007
7:45 pm

What's remarkable is how fast it normalizes. At first I couldn't help but notice how Asian everyone was, how Korean everyone was. Little Korean children sucking on little pacifiers, Korean teenagers bustling around downtown in parkas and sneakers, poor old Korean men endlessly pushing carts stacked high with cardboard up hills, sharp dressed suit and tie Koreans, all business all the time. At first I couldn't help but notice. All black eyes all black hair. But it fades. And I forget that I'm the only white person in the restaurant. And people become people again. Just people.

I think there is something emanating from people. At first you don't see it. You just see their face and their eyes, noses, and mouths. And you notice how they are the same or different. But then you don't notice it anymore. You just see a whole. And the whole is totally different than the sum of the parts.

We're not really seen as real teachers here. We're more for show, I think. Thus the kids don't show us the same respect that they show our Korean counterparts. David pointed out that that's because we're not real teachers. Seriously. I've never taught a day in my life before this. I never taught a Sunday School or a soccer team. Heck I've never even held a leadership position before. So no I'm not a real teacher, not by training or experience anyway. But still, I step into the room and stand before 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 students. And somehow, for the next forty minutes, I have to figure out how to get them to listen to me. I have to help them remember things. And I have to get them to care. I have to do this for the sake of some kind of stupid Deadpoetssociety ideal, for their parents (who pay a lot of money), for the kids (who may one day, long from now, actually care), and I have to do it to maintain my own sanity.

Everything becomes utilitarian.

If it works, do it.

If it doesn't. Don't.

It's like one great big human psychology experiment.

(Some Food Side Notes: Yesterday I bought some fish jerky. Bones, skin, tails and all (no heads though). Actually I kinda like it. And I had some Korean BBQ. It was great. And only cost about $4.50. On the streets, farmers sell fresh produce.)



01.10.07
9:05 pm

it's been said that koreans shuffle on, eyes down at their feet, paying no heed to those around them. mind focused on the destination. i heard that they even, in their rush, will bump into others and not notice, but keep right on marching.

i don't know if this is true or not. but i was reminded of this stereotype tonight. on my way home from work. i was reminded by the quick one two of my shuffling feet. i was reminded by the blur of sidewalk brick. i was reminded by the music inserted in my ears.

i was simply tired and hungry. and i wanted to get home before my food got cold.

but then i stopped, i slowed my pace, i looked up. and i saw an angry cat who, ears slicked back, meowed a sickening meow, i saw three young boys sitting outside playing the arcade (faces lit by the flickering screen), i ran my fingers over faded korean letters on an old faded sign, i saw two toddlers with furry caps covering their ears.

And when I got home, I ate a cold dinner.

(On a side note, I finished the last episode of Firefly. I am sad. I may start over and watch the whole series again. I can't believe Fox canceled the show. Morons. Now I want to watch the movie again. But... I left it at home.)


01.11.2007
7:38 pm

there are two types of students i think: those that enjoy stupid games, and those that don't. i think i spent a good amount of my life in the latter category. being a fairly high-minded child, i discovered early the stupidity of stupid games. i refused to take part in such stupidity. i failed however to recognize the purpose of the stupid games. the function and utility of stupid games. and it wasn't until much later that i realized (am realizing) that from a certain perspective most (all?) actions can be described as a stupid game.

i am learning that high-minded adult pursuits are simply reflections of stupid children's games and vice versa. it's a procession of mirrors leading back and back down the hallway into our deepest consciousness. back and back until the hall dead ends, and in the dim light there is a solid wall riddled with holes. and there are a thousand hands with a thousand corks trying to plug the holes before the rains come and flood the dams.

Sleepless in Seattle and Two Day's Gone By

Oh boy! I found free internet! Sleepless in Seattle coffee shop just down the street from my apt. So here I am, nibbling on a piece of mocha moose cake and surfing the net. I've been super busy since classes started. As in getting up at 7 to prepare lessons getting off work at 8 going home and preparing lessons 9and watching an episode of Firefly). That sounds really bad, but for it's really not. Probably because A) I'm still new and not yet cynical, and B) I don't have any internet or TV to waste my free time. Soon I'll write in more detail about what has been going on. But here are some old entries I've been wanting to post:

01.03.07

today i made a boy cry. i gave him an X by his name. i felt very bad.

today i named a boy "bruce".

today hannah told me that the kids like me.

today i built a gundam.

soon i will tell you about my room.

soon i will tell you about my school.


12.29.06
19:54

I was standing there. Gripping the flimsy handle on that 70 pound behemoth of a suitcase. Two bags slung around my toothpick neck and a bulging backpack hanging from my shoulders. I was standing there above what was definitely not an escalator, what was definitely a three flight descent. There's my train, departing in 10 minutes. And there's me, looking around with what must have been a desperate expression. Like a dog who wrapped his legs in his own leash. I must have looked pitiful. People were passing by leaping down two steps at a time. A man noticed. Looked at my suitcase. Then at me. Then at my suitcase. And without a word he bent down and lifted one end. We began the descent. "Gamsa hamnida." I said with a slight bow. Another man, whose face I never even saw, reached in and lifted some of the burden. "Gamsa hamnida," I repeated, "Thank you very much, thank you." Neither men ever responded. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, they returned again into the rushing human river.



Sitting and typing now aboard the KTX bullet train (one of the fastest in the world). My school was kind enough to book me business class from Seoul to Dong Daegu. It must be fast. But it's too dark outside to tell. The only sound is a quiet whir. Like a strong wind blowing through a crack in the rafters two stories up.

There is a bird documentary on the TV screens.



To celebrate the weekend Katrina, David, and I have purchased a couple bottles of Soju (like sake, boy the stuff is cheap) and rented a few movies. We are, alas, too tired to do celebrating any real justice.

Some new pix on flickr.