Half Moon Bear

Demo! & wind-down.

2005-12-04T22:20:00.000+09:00

My timing is anything but good as I hit things off with a delightful woman (pilates and ballet instructor) today and I learned (and forgot) about as many new Korean words as I have all year. We had coffee and tea at Kanghwamun Starbucks and I got to see about a bajillion heavily armoured 기동 경찰 (riot policemen) preparing to 'suppress the demo' as my guide put it.

Yeah, suppress that mofo all the way over to this here Starbucks! I was getting ready for a molotov through the window but it never materialized. Too bad, since this has been the coldest day of the year so far. I haven't bothered to get a real winter jacket yet, so I may have looked a bit odd, but I'm a tough Canadian and I hardly noticed the BITING SIBERIAN WIND (-2) My language-exchange partner even shelled out for some gloves for me! How cool is that?

Too bad I'm going home at Xmas and I have to work the weekend after next. I don't anticipate coming back to Korea in a hurry. I also don't plan on keeping up this blog while I'm in Canada. I don't know how much time I'll have to post new updates while I'm getting ready to leave, and I plan to be too busy to blog afterwards. I will let you know when I stop updating permanently but for now this is goodbye.

To whatever degree my life will be interesting back in Canada, it won't be anything even remotely different from what millions of English language bloggers are already doing. Also this started as a document of my Korean experience or lack thereof, and it will stay that way.

I will continue to update the novel blog and the secret blog at my whim.
Annyeonghi Gaseyo!

White Kurisamasu

2005-12-04T10:48:00.000+09:00

It snowed last night and Suwon is freaking out! Its interesting how a layer of snow seems to muffle sound, and it makes a peaceful Sunday morning even more so. Pictures will follow.

Let's go back to my previous post on the subject of my tendency to dissipate my efforts into multiple unrelated endeavours. In the spirit of focusing my energy into a smaller number of initiatives I have decided to learn how to play blackjack and how to build a Neverwinter Night's module. :P =(denotes sarcasm)

One of my life-long goals is to write more, and Bioware is sponsoring a contest to fill the long-vacant writing position on their website. This is actually not great for me since it will increase the competition for something I had intended to do anyway. The benefit is that it gives me a hard deadline and forces me to spring into action.

In order to increase the amount of time that I have to pack and get ready to move back to Canspendalot, and to work on side-projects like writing and websites, I have decided to do this crazy experiment starting next Friday (or should I do it tomorrow since the standing up will help keep me going through the day? I don't want to zone out while I'm teaching). I'm not expecting too much but if it cures me of my oversleeping and gives me an extra 5 hours a day without killing me then it will the BEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME since losing my virginity.

It won't be a cinch working around a hagwon instructors schedule but I worked this out:

Nap Schedule
MWF
7:50-8:20 -30 minute nap
11:50-12:20 -30 minute nap
15:30-16:00 -30 minute nap
19:50-20:05 -15 minute nap
23:45-00:15 -30 minute nap
3:50-4:20 -30 minute nap

TThSS
7:45-8:15-30 minute nap
11:45-12:15-30 minute nap
15:30-16:00-30 minute nap
20:30-20:45-15 minute nap
00:00-00:30-30 minute nap
3:45-4:15-30 minute nap

This should provide for 6 naps with no more than 4.5 hours between any one, and the average being 3.5 hours. (If there are any kind strangers who want to double-check my math so that I don't die that would be swell) Steve Pavlina says it's OK to sneak an extra nap in during the night, especially while adjusting, and that's all good. The real challenge will be taking the required two naps that fall during hours that I need to be at school. I'm allowed to take half an hour off my prep time to do whatever I want, but the question is - where do I sleep? I don't think the lunch room will be very restful and everyone will know I'm a madman (more so). The fifteen minute nap is the longest break between classes and I figure I'll just zip down to the can and put my head down in the stall. It's the best I can do for now, but I'm serious about doing this so I'm getting a countdown timer with a booming alarm today.

I just realized I only have one real weekend to wrap up all the loose ends here (working on Sat. 17th) so how's that going to unfold? Christmas shopping, visit the pension office, turn in the phone, haul junk to the curb, pack and ship extra stuff home. Yeah, I need that extra 5 hours, no doubt.

Nuguya?

2005-12-02T02:22:00.000+09:00

So, the other day a wacky S-4 student snuck into my S-1 class the other day, and even crazier, I didn't kick her out immediately. In fact I would have let her stay in the class for the duration, but the teacher whose class she was skipping thought to ask WHERE THE HELL IS MY STUDENT? Another one of my students, released into the hall for a bathroom break, blew the whistle on the refugee. In my defence, I thought she might have a calming influence on the friend she was visiting.

I didn't even ask too many questions when she came in, and it never even dawned on me that she might be skipping. SKIPPING, SWEET JEBUS, this is Korea. Students do NOT skip.

It shows that either 1. I was born without any trace of the common-sense gene or 2. I am completely in overdrive mode and I couldn't give a rats arse what happens between now and Christmas. It might be that and a combination of 3. I like to experiment with my own life and the lives of others, and I don't really worry about the repercussions. I'm the easiest-going mad scientist ever born.

They're going to take my license for this, goddammit! Oh wait...

Initially, the school FREAKED about this, naturally, since their rep is likely to take a hit somewhat along the lines of "Why don't teachers know who is supposed to be in their class? Where was my daughter for an odd hour?"

In the end though, she's been suspended for a month, and since my own remaining term is less than that, I didn't even get a slap on the wrist. Month 12 teacher is invincible. Note to self: steal the videocamera and a few boxes of markers.

It's episodes like this one that make me realize my own career is mostly a sequence of disappointed bosses, funny anecdotes, and hastily burnt (and buried) bridges. Also by spreading myself too thin, trying to do too many things at once (work 9-5, teach privates, make Canadian websites, learn Korean, play video games all night, booze and whore) I don't actually do anything well, and I never will if I keep this up.

The Last Head Teacher (25!) has been with the company for only two years and he's already been offered a University job, a head-office job and he's got a kickazz CV with plenty of kudos cuz he's hella responsible, has a dry professional daytime demeanour and he has little imagination about what he could do with his free time. Admittedly, I think he's naturally a better teacher than I am, but still, I could pick up some tips.

Tip for y'all - if you see a student that isn't yours, kick them to the corridor.

KT MegaSuck

2005-11-21T22:51:00.000+09:00

My KT Megapass premium internet bill was 84,000 won this month. WTF over??

If anyone can shed light on this I will give you more details and split the savings difference if I can get this reversed.

Hedwig and the Hysterical Crowd

2005-11-21T00:23:00.000+09:00

Begin flashback...

So, I'm in HyeHwa, and after some nifty subway navigation and a quick triangle gimbap-run at GS25 to combat hangover hunger and to get some lightly peach-flavoured DHB (drenches body and heart) to prevent hangover headache and nausea, we are paying 33,000 won to listen to Hedwig and the Angry Inch, the musical, sung in Korean.

Not the least of my worries is running past (much less into) someone who knows me, since, defending my suspect heterosexuality will become nigh impossible after being seen at this show. I would defy anyone to say that the cross-dressing and emasculation themes of Hedwig are COMPLETELY gay, but certainly they smack of gayosity, and there can be no doubt that this show is a hit with drag queens and poufs, neither of which I am or have ever been, not that there is anything wrong with it.

Actually I'm here mostly because the music rocks, and I know Ange would want to hear about it (damn me for not bringing the camera - but actually if you can picture Hedwig makeup on an Asian face, and a lot of funny ajumma faces, you've pretty much got it).

Review: The music did rock, and it did me a ton of soul-soothing good to actually hear an electric guitar in person after...yeah, a while.
The whole show is basically in Korean, and apart from some integral scenes, such as the one where Tommy Gnosis points to Hedwig's crotch and asks "Igeh Moya?" the message was not always clear, nor was it always in line with the movie. Luckily I had an able interpreter in Becca (introduced later) who not only could translate all the German lines, but knew the story back and forth.

The most entertaining part of the evening though, was the crowd. I don't know, exactly, at least not yet, but I'm working on some theories as to what makes this show so popular with Korean women, but the place was jam-packed with them. HOT ONES (not gay over here, hello). And, youngish ones too. I spotted a few men, but there seemed to be only one other foreigner in the whole joint, a very slim man who fit the 'profile'. We both seemed to be getting a lot of attention, but I would like to think it was because we were both devastatingly handsome curiosities in this sea of frenzied Hedwig worshippers. The actor who plays Hedwig (Song Yong-jin?) is not, as I initially, suspected, proof of the existence of gays in Korea, he is actually a bold (would have to be fearless to show his face unpainted) and energetic actor. He churned the crowd into a frothing mass (I think I may be repeating myself, but I'll keep this motif for Korea's population in general) the likes that I haven't seen anywhere but in Beatles footage, well, minus the shrieking. I mean, there was cheering and yelling, but not the ear-splitting shrieking, thank God. Anyway, it was cool to see, and fun, and worth the money, and the one female actor had a great voice and was EXTREMELY HOT. (Lee Young-mi?)
(End flashback...)

I met Bruce's friend Kyrt last night. He is another tall man with a gorgeous (and endlessly charming) Korean wife. It's really enough to make me shake my head in despair. Kyrt is different from soccer-coach-Sarge though, in that he seems thoughtful, rather than conniving, and although ambitious, he has a laid-back and friendly demeanour. Kyrt's wife, Jade, (do I tell her it's a stripper's English name?) has a friend, call her Becky, although she would dislike that.

Becky is fluent in German, self-taught over only a few years of serious study. She reads good books. She is a thinker. She was not particularly glib or raucous though, even with the dispatching of a bottle of Bailey's consumed in the service of my first recorded complete cup of coffee, several tequila shots, and a few gin and tonics. She was also gentle, patient, erudite and whimsically suffered the company of fools like me.

Still, I was in her kitchen eating French toast with hard-won 'cake syrup' discovered after a few kilometres of shop-scouring at the end of a boozy evening. It's not what you think, though, gentle reader, for although I am not innocent of such scallywaggery, we had actually stayed out until 7 am singing at the noraebang. The evening was in fact, notable for this and a conversation on the proper administration of a hagwon business, with Bruce's increasingly insufferable braggadocio regarding his important position with the Choleric Charity, his salary and the inversely small cost of living in Indonesia thrown in for good measure. Let's hope he saves something this time. ( - actually don't worry so much about what he does, just shut up and follow your own advice.)

Becky was pleasant company, but this will be a meeting of minds only, for various reasons, not the least of which is that my stay in Korea is approaching it's terminus, and a return is uncertain at best. She invited me to come to Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and actually since this is the most interesting part of my post, maybe I'll write this as a flashback.

Time to Split

2005-11-17T00:40:00.000+09:00

I can't believe the dirty sons of bitches at Nor-don collections managed to track me down in Korea. They must have got to my mom somehow. Dirty. sons. o' bitches.

I tore up their letter in the lunchroom then set the motherfucker on fire, and drank a pint of rum in front of the kindergarteners while demonstrating the history behind the 'hang-man' game and re-enacting the show-me-the-money scene, sotto voce, from Jerry Maguire, which, incidentally, has become a modern international classic.

Armistice Day

2005-11-13T02:20:00.000+09:00

I hope this is still topical. In Korea, November 11 is called 'Pepero' Day and it's an unabashed ploy by a candy company to sell more candy. Since there is no coy attempt to hide the commercialism of the day behind an emotion (like Valentine's), and since kids love candy, and incidentally, so do I, I wasn't perturbed at all that Pepero overshadows the real November 11 - Remembrance Day.

Still, I wore a poppy, brought from home, and photocopied 'In Flanders Fields' to tell all 3 of my classes from Basic to Senior what Nov. 11 was really about.

In the end I got a ton, literally, a tonne of Pepero, and so did the other teachers. Since I'm on a health kick I put most of my haul into the community pile where, I suspect, it got thrown out. Just as well, since Pepero, like all Korean candy, sucks. It consists of a stick-shaped, completely taste-free crumbly cookie base that has the consistency of cardboard. This is then dipped in chocolate, and sometimes it has sesame seeds in the base. Apart from the thin layer of chocolate it's a terrible candy, so I think I'll stick to chocolate the next time I want to binge on simple carbs.

Census!

2005-11-06T21:31:00.000+09:00

Bruce came back from Indonesia; we only had an evening to talk but it confirms in my mind that the people I went to Uni with were the best sorts of people. I need to go back to school. Dammit.

Guess where Bruce wanted to go? Hongdae! How many times is that now? I met a girl who wants to exchange language lessons. Bruce called her ugly, but I think I've been alone too long to be a good judge.

In other news: guess who just had to fill out a census? Actually, it wasn't me, it was the woman who PERSISTED ON RINGING MY DOORBELL DESPITE ALL MY ATTEMPTS TO IGNORE HER. I don't usually answer my door when I don't recognize the person through the keyhole, or when there's a thumb blocking it (then it's time for a NUGUYA??! bellowed fiercely if I suspect the person is Anglo or WHO DIS??! if I suspect the interloper is Korean) because there is never any good reason to do so. It's either the Mormons trying to get you to convert AND give them free language lesssons - sneaky mormons. Or it's a salesperson trying to give you filters for your air-con or stove, such things which I undoubtedly need but will never install, due to intertia and being busy converting wav files to mp3 or whatnot.

Census Woman, however was not to be deterred, and if you have ever heard a Korean doorbell you will understand why it's the most god-awful torture to endure. I would rather face down the knife wielding nalari to whom I'm 300 million in Go-stop induced indebtedness, than to hear that sound three times. It's not even properly a sound, it's a "song" but which is so horrible to contemplate, much less experience that the term song is not apt.

Census Woman's determination is not matched with a corresponding bilingualism, so I'm trying to figure out what she wants me to say, and I'm giving her the best dumb foreigner act that I can muster, except, here's a secret bloggers, it's not really acting.

Her: Rapid fire Korean that you could understand only if you had been born here.
Me: Mwoya-yo??? (Did you not notice my white face and shocking yellow hair??)
Her: Huh. More Korean, no words distinguishible, but said in a halting manner.
Me: Meolleoyo!! (What the hell are you talking about??? I'm a dumb foreigner, can't you hear?)
Her: Korean. Korean. name. Korean.
Me: at this point I notice the word 'census' on her sheet. Ahh! Census! You want my name?
Her: Nodding
Me: Ok - I write 'Half Moon' (first name)
Her: More rapid fire Korean, counting on fingers.
Me: Meolleoyo?
etc. etc.

Anyway, I lied about my age on the census. Classic.

Halloween

2005-10-30T18:21:00.000+09:00

Was a blast - went to Hongdae (big surprise) and Team Captain made good on his promise to cater a pretty good party, although I arrived late, and he still made me pay the full admission with less than 2 hours remaining. I have sent too much money home so I have to be clever about how to live for the next few days. There's nothing like a fresh introduction to poverty to keep your feet on the ground and inside the workplace.

People on the internet are not the most interesting people, no

2005-10-24T02:27:00.000+09:00

The horrible realization: when I don't update my blog more things are actually happening to me, and I'm actually doing more than when I am not updating. I am too tired to talk about everything that's going on, but that is a good thing, probably-pictures and story at 11. (November)

good night

Mystery Solved

2005-10-15T13:10:00.000+09:00

Partly - it was a fruit truck, not a dumpster. Still, what would cause a fruit truck to erupt in flames?

Fire in the Night

2005-10-14T03:37:00.000+09:00

Sometimes insomnia has it's privileges.

I was cooking up some salmon for a late-late-late night snack when I heard a muffled thump. It sounded like something had landed on the floor outside, so I didn't pay too much attention to it. Then I thought - with the windows closed, such a noise would have to be REALLY loud. I was also playing music at the time (Futurheads) so I looked out the window, and I could see reflected in the building across the street - a blazing inferno! It looked like a solid wall of flame, then I heard another blast, and realized it was an explosion.

I whipped on the running shoes and some trousers and went outside. There were already some local folks taking pictures and video (camera! I ran back) but by the time I came down a second time this was the best shot I could get. I was amazed by the speed and response of the local fire brigade. In a country that is all hustle and bustle, but sometimes light on actual competence and active decision-making, it would seem that the fire department are spot-on. Top marks for keeping the building next door from going ablaze, and consequently, safeguarding my "life" and "possessions".

It was good to know that, if this had been an actual emergency, I would have already been awake, and at least had a better chance than most people of making it out with the laptop. Yes, the laptop.

I think it was caused by a dumpster fire that got OOC fast - I didn't want to get too close or interfere with the cleanup but it clearly wasn't a building on fire - spontaneous combustion strikes again? Possibly the garbage collection is not as efficient as the fire-fighting in these parts, but since I can't actually talk to anyone who would know, this will probably forever be a bit of a mystery.

Getting Ripped

2005-10-13T00:48:00.000+09:00

I have hit on a brilliant strategy for getting back into shape here in surprisingly-difficult-to-find-healthy-food-that-is-not-totally-boring-or-outrageously-expensive Korea.

Step1: Stop paying gas bill for several months

Step2: Allow gas to be disconnected

Step3: Experience one rivetingly uncomfortable cold shower on a Monday morning before you have to be at work

Step4: Bring all toiletries to the local gym near the school and take out a new membership

Step5: Do all grooming in the gym shower. Opportunistically take advantage of the location to lift some weights

Step6: Find a way to cook all foods using only the microwave or toaster oven

Step7: Gather firewood for the winter. Burn openly in the center of apartment for the next 3.5 months

Simple, requires way less discipline and I'll look great for Xmas beach parties!

So Few Hours in the Blogging Day

2005-10-11T02:56:00.000+09:00

Not too surprising, but a body of 'intelligent' economists has decided that Vancouver is the best place to live. If the Economist thinks so, it must be true. Screw going back to Edmonton, man!

I went to Hwaseong (a giant castle near Suwon) on Sunday. I went by myself, the only weiguk in a teeming, frothing mass of Korean humanity. It was more interesting than the folk village, actually, and I took as many pictures as I could before my batteries crapped out. I definitely need to replace the recharageables, and I'm now convinced they weren't new when I got them with the camera. I figured out how to order 'kun mandu' (fried dumplings) and even where to stand in line to get my tickets and then get the food. I really wish the camera had had enough juice to get the picture of the noodle chefs making noodles. They gots a way with dough, those noodle chefs.

I started recording all my taped 'deep thoughts' to mp3 and man, I have decided that the tape recorder will become my new all-important creative tool, because, the guy on the other end of that tape is way cooler, intelligent, and funny than I ever could be. I am also going to try to and finagle a creative partnership with Mam'zelle Burnt Toast cuz that saucy bitch is hilarious. These flowers are for her.

Something my sister said totally made my day. I don't know if I should share it with you, dear reader, but here it is, just in case it helps you out.

2) I sit here in TO (a city I have gone to great
trouble and expense to re-locate to so that I could do
a PhD) reading your blog. I realize that I have spent
a great deal of my life in school and could not ever,
ever, ever achieve the kind of creativity, wit, and
philosophical insight that you are capable of. This is
not patronizing or an appeal for compliments. It only
confirms a thesis you first presented to me years ago:
school does not make you smart. The smart people are
those who can learn on their own. That's you. Some do
this through the system and some don't. This relates
to point #3

3) In one of your blogs you made a comment about
ignoring your accomplishments and focusing on your
failures. When I read this I couldn't have agreed
more, but have never put that together before. I also
started to realize that a lot of this comes from how
we were raised. You were more daring, experimental,
anti-authority so there was more to criticize. And the
accomplishments were always framed in opposition to
the "failures". You know what I mean? Seeing this
(having the advantage of being younger) I totally
structured my life around being obedient, a
peace-maker, etc. Do you see how this relates to point
#3? Okay, enough Oprah for now.

She has to say nice things about me, being fambly and all, but she is perfect and so I have to believe that is just the plain facts. Just a plain sweet song keeps Georgia on my mind!

All in all, I feel pretty good. I feel recharged, ready to face winter, and with a skeleton of a plan starting to form for when I return in Jan. I feel like it would be OK to be an artiste again, wiser, hopefully, thinking about that broken bottle of ink, and thinking about how communication is more important than craft. I feel like if, FFF were to tell me to completely re-draw what we had sketched out for this new project, it would be OK with me and I would do my utmost to make it something good. I do wish they trusted me more to make design decisions though. I also wish I knew what 'style' they wanted from me. After all, clipart is less expensive than I am. It would surely help if I was closer to a phone. Or just closer.

I also feel ready to write, but I'm going to start with the small goal of getting on McSweeneys' first. It's probably a hobble, but I need to warm up.

I like being on this high - haven't felt this way very many times in Korea, but now how to get to sleep? A classic conundrum.

Letter to Mum

2005-10-05T00:32:00.000+09:00

I have been too busy with the second job to post much, but here is a snippet of an email I sent to my mom. The presence of a computer and email at my parents' house, previously a technological blasphemy, might just make amends for 9 years of teenage rebellion, and then another 10 years of adult disappointment.

Thanks mum! I hope you know that I think about you every day - and I'm trying to make you proud - somehow.

I went to the post office today! It was about a 1/2 hour taxi ride during 2pm traffic. When I got there I couldn't figure out why no one was taking new numbers and a big lineup was forming around the automatic postage dispensing machine, around the waiting area couches. Finally, I went to the information desk and the person there was able to speak enough English to tell me 'computer error'. So, I got a label and filled it out but I will have to go back another day - hopefully tomorrow.

Are you and father still an Edmonton Journal subscriber? The EJ website has a special feature where Todd Babiak is serializing his new novel. Todd is a columnist for the Journal and I went to the UofA with him. I really enjoyed his first book. His new novel is only available online and it's free for Journal subscribers. To be honest, I consider him a literary rival even though I have suppressed my literary ambitions in favor of making a quick buck doing this and that, and mostly other things besides writing.

Speaking of which - write back soon - what's the weather like?
love,
HMB

In other news I (actually, a fellow teacher -Florida Phil) discovered that you can get to the roof of our building(s) easily enough, and it's a great place to dry clothes. There's even a clothesline for just such a purpose! I can also eavesdrop on other English teachers while they're having their post-summer BBQs (don't invite me will ya!?!) and so I've moved my drying rack up there semi-permanently. The irony is that Phil's new (actually now ex) wealthy girlfriend is going to buy him an electric dryer anyway.

Florida Phil is the new teacher and he seems to be a decent chap. I don't know if he's found too many other people to hang out with, although since he can come into my classroom and talk about his obsession with Asian women, his new (ex) special lady, his interest in breakbeats, his dislike of all other female foreign teachers, and since I don't immediately eject him, then he often does. I can't pretend that I'm paying too much attention to him, diligently marking essays (and keeping El Capitan off my ass) as I usually am, but he doesn't seem to need an active audience. AND he burnt me some custom made Florida breakbeats. Good times.

First Korean film (sans subs)

2005-09-20T04:56:00.000+09:00

I went to see this movie - http://www.film2.co.kr/moviedb/default.asp?mkey=40636
entirely in Korean and I understood the gist of it, not too difficult considering the audience and genre, but I could only laugh at the slapstick.

I went with a girl plus her friend, the former whom I met on the interweb. The friend wants to learn English, but she was too embarrassed to actually try, or to ask me any questions. We went to Indio, a trendy pub around Suwonyok, and then we played some pocketball. The whole place was filled with macho Korean men who pretty much stared me down the whole night as I played with two (of their???) women, the only ones there. So I was a litle put off my game, but I still managed 2 for 3. Then we went to CGV for the movie. They paid for everything but the popcorn (!). So, I had fun, but did they? I dunno, and that's the thing about trying to get a Korean girlfriend. Who the fizzick will know what they're thinking until they stop calling a few days later? Not you my anglophone friends. Not you.

In other media watch news, I recommend the album 'Touch' by Amerie, the reincarnation of Aaliyah.

Rejected

2005-09-19T15:14:00.000+09:00

Some people don't respect McSweeneys, but either those people have a huge chip on their shoulder, are incredibly 'out there' conceptually, or they are just bitter and untalented. I, on the other hand, bask in failure fearlessly, and so, against my better judgement, here is my unfunny Spongebob submission - rejected by Mcsweeneys. My first real (literary) rejection. Although certainly not my first rejection. If you think about the similarities and differences between romantic rejections and literary rejections, it's kinda funny. And hey, there's the inspiration for my next submission! (provided it hasn't already been done - to the Googlemobile!)

Spongebob Squarepants Comes Clean.

I was patient at first. Maybe too patient. When you’re porous yellow and absorbent sometimes you’re going to have to take the fall and clean up other people’s messes. Let no one say that I ever shirked or crumpled under that heavy burden - at least not without bouncing right back. There comes a time though, when you need to draw a line in the sand, and then re-draw it really quickly after it washes away. And then do it again. Once more. There comes a time when a sponge has to stand up for himself. He might also say “Patrick, could you please draw that line in the sand again, since I can’t see it now.”

No one expected that one day a humble fry cook from Bikini Bottom would lay bare the hypocrisy and rot that eats away at the foundation of this place. On that day I would strike mightily at the decadence that twists and blackens the heart of my home – the pineapple heart. No, not mildew. Well, yes, mildew but also corruption. Chlorine bleach for the mildew, vigilante justice for the corruption. That shift at the Krusty Krab was the last straw – but actually I was saving the last straw to stab Mr. Krabs repeatedly between the carapace and the thoracic joint. And again with the sand line, please.

I come from simple folk - sessile filter feeders. In fact, structurally, Ma and Pa may be the simplest in all of Bikini Bottom. Salt of the earth. Sea earth. Salt of the seas. They weren’t good with money but we were happy. I never had the benefit of a college education, but I was a quick learner and I had an uncanny ability to retain knowledge. I tried to read everything I could get my hands on and one day they told me I was ready to try for a scholarship. I had high hopes but I should have known a guy like me wouldn’t be allowed to evolve in ‘their’ system. They said I was soft. I said I was flexible. They said I was gutless. No guts. I let that soak in. Yeah I know I’m never going to have a rigid outer shell or an internal skeleton, but that doesn’t mean I’m spineless. Well, technically I am, but I’m not afraid. Not anymore.

As a fry cook I can accept that I’ll take on some of the more unpleasant chores. I don’t want to come across as some big-shot Supersponge. I can just hear what they’d say – Spongebob Squarepants – too big for his britches. Spongebob FancyPants. But still…“Spongebob, swab this, Spongebob, wipe that. Spongebob, there’s been an ‘incident’ in the men’s room that calls for your specialized skills!” I know when I’m being talked down to, and frankly I don’t appreciate it. Day after day, I was completely wrung out by the end. And did I get any credit? Any thanks? Free Krabby Patties? Hah! How long did they think I would stand for that? I may be full of holes but I have integrity. They treated me like a common loofah. No more!

When the day came, Mr. Krabs was counting his money, as usual completely unaware of the world around him when he’s not barking orders. I needed someone on the inside, someone who hated him as much as I did. As agreed, my accomplice would lock up early while I lathered up and slid silently into the office. Normally Squidward and I can’t collaborate on anything but on this ‘issue’ we saw eye to eyestalk and it ‘clicked’. The sound of a straw plunging into real crab meat - click. It felt good. I did it again. Click. And again. click. Clickclickclickclickclickclick. The next thing I remember is Patrick staring over me, shaking me, parting the red tides.
Gary (my pet snail) and I dined well that night, although I couldn’t get the hang of the ‘bib’, something to do with my neck, or lack of one. I’m still paying for that too - try getting the grease stains out of alpine umber shorts. Think you can find lederhosen pleated Dockers at Wal-Mart? Good luck.

McSweeneys

2005-09-18T19:23:00.000+09:00

Have finally finished the finishing touches for my McSweeneys submission. The idea is to get published online as a way to promote the confidence necessary to start working on something bigger (Bannerman). The piece centered around Spongebob Squarepants breaking free of his surly employer, Mr. Krabs, and in doing so, killing him violently. Small proletariat uprisings, actually, are a common theme in my writing, and maybe not so coincidentally, in my daydreams.

Actually, the piece was a little disconnected and I had lost enthusiasm for the topic by the third draft, so I'm not expecting it to go up.

I could spend my whole life reading McSweeneys. It's the purple patio bug light for witty people who don't have the time or conversely, have too much money or sense to become professional writers. I'm a little bit worried that I have spent too much time in anti-intellectual pursuits or pursued low-brow entertainment too fervently to be able to ape the conventions of writing humourously for educated people.

I guess I'll keep reading and trying until I give up or die or both. It worked for me with the Globe and Mail Daily Challenge (ca. 1995?), although even my girlfriend at the time got her entry accepted before I did.

Sleep

2005-09-18T12:23:00.000+09:00

I haven't been getting much sleep lately, on account of unusual things happening around the apartment, and also, the cursed internet. I cannot resist it's lure!

On Thursday RolyPoly Rosie got locked out of her apartment. I was playing Jade and making lots of noise, so I couldn't pretend to be asleep. I would have helped regardless, since I have forgotten or lost so many keys as to make me very sympathetic to apartmentless refugees. I climbed on top of her a/c exhaust fan (mounted OUTSIDE! My a/c is inside my apartment making half of it cool and the other half, counterproductively hot) and then hauled myself up on the somewhat fragile gas pipes that run the length of the building. Then I shimmied over to her window, had some difficulty finding a foothold, and then I squirmed in through the open window. Once inside, the tricky part was not breaking her laptop. It was on the table right under the window. I did a semi-handstand from the back of her chair and then vaulted on to the floor. Not bad for a sedentary computer geek. Maybe watching countless haours of Jade Empire acrobatics actually has translated into some kind of raw skill.

I also got a job working with Frankie 5 Fingers and his boss. They're willing to wait for me until I get back to Canada. I hope it's the right decision. It does put a hold on or permanently disrupt some of my other future plans, but the project sounds hella cool - making a children's books website. It will also be good to be back scheming again. I just hope I'll have enough free time to work on some writing.

Socka

2005-09-13T12:05:00.000+09:00

In response to demand, I am making a super fast update about my last few days. I have started to move away from my nerdy blogging persona to a more active 'jock' type personality, which means that my blogging time is short.

I ran the Terry Fox marathon of hope (actually, only 10k of hope) and it was pretty difficult considering how out of shape I was. Still, I started strong and was only lapped by people who looked like professional athletes. I also got a wicked sunburn.

Then I went to a birthday party at an Indian restaurant in Itaewon. For someone who hates Itaewon as much as I do, I can't understand why I spend so much time there. I am clearly hanging out with the wrong kinds of people. The food was pretty good though I have to say - for anyone who is inclined - the restaurant is called 'Evergreen' except the sign says 'Eavergreen'. They were super nice and polite to us despite being a ragged band of foreigners with shaved heads, tattoos, garish clothes and manners.

I played soccer the next day and got another wicked sunburn (despite wearing layers of sunscreen). We lost, but that is not the most sensational part. With 10 minutes remaining, one of the weaker players (let's call him Fatty) was forced off after having only a few minutes of playing time. Well, we want to win and Fatty isn't the swiftest boot in the club. Fatty complains, which is his nature, and the sponsor of our team, let's call him Sarge, a former navy seal, a man with 3 years of army combat training, tells him to shut up. Fatty doesn't want to shut up. He continues to whine. Sarge shoves Fatty. Fatty, as foolish as he is begirthed, charges Sarge. Sarge cold-cocks Fatty who drops to his knees, Sarge then knees Fatty in the head. Fatty is out for the count.

This sort of internecine violence is pretty much unheard of in pro sport or amateur sport, or really, anywhere. So, the game stopped, and we all basically shouted 'Sarge, what the hell are you doing?' This precipitated hours of angry discussions, threats of filing with the authorities, both soccer and police, informal meetings, and the bus ride home was slightly more somber than usual. I did get a chance to meet an interesting guy who grew up in an ethnic Korean city in China. He speaks reasonable English, fluent Chinese and Korean. The modesty of these linguistic geniuses always humbles me. If I could speak a smattering of Chinese I'd boast about it whenever I had the opportunity.

When we reached the drop-off point (a university gate entrance, replete with neo-classical sculpture and marble columns) there was what I would like to think of as an Athenian style forum on the future of Sarge and the influence of his money on the team. Would we say goodbye to the free meals, the shuttles, the discounted shoes, the names on our shirts? There were several passionate speeches by the major players. Sarge is definitely full of too much testosterone, despite his age (37?) or maybe because of it, and he had difficulty appearing properly ashamed, so his apology fell a bit flat. Still, I think Fatty should not have been martyred as he was, since he brought at least a small part of this on himself. Most people didn't see the initial fracas, only Fatty's unconscious lumpy form. We sat on the steps and, much like ancient Greece I imagine, nothing was resolved.

Then we went out to a restaurant where I had the best Korean meal to date. It was like eating galbi at a galbi joint except that it was also a buffet where you could grab whatever you wanted, as much as you wanted and all for 6500 won. Here we truly shined. Off the pitch our team's gluttony cannot be matched.

Yesterday my students asked me why my nose was red. I said it was because I was drunk. "Teacher, do you think that soju is your water?" If I did lass, I wouldn't be here to tell you about it.

Best blog post about Korea

2005-09-05T01:33:00.000+09:00

Not mine, naturally, as I'm far too humble to arrogate to myself the title of best blogger in Korea. Best-looking, possibly.

http://www.gordsellar.com/2005/08/14/its-really-like-living-in-a-graham-greene-novel-sometimes/#more-1782

It would seem that Gord has moved on, from Korea and from Korean concerns (to MMORPGs!), but his experience is the type that I'm striving for.

Crystal Method and Soccer

2005-09-04T22:36:00.000+09:00

This was an amusing weekend - the quality of my blog tends to go up when I stop playing video games. Not much chance of that ever completely being phased out, but I am trying to get into shape.

So, on Saturday, Chris from London, Ont., quite possibly one of the greatest men in the world, invited me to go to the Crystal Method concert, right after I had stood him up for going hiking in Bukhansanseong. His is a faith in human nature (even my own) that I don't have.

So, I made it there. Yay, me. And I had a good time. I met up with another teacher from Suwon. I also saw the young woman I replaced at my school, a giant readhead that I'll call Lunatic Lacy. Lacy was a dancing fiend, sweating all over me, and various other people. She is way too manic to be friends with, but apart from that, she seems like a nice enough person. I have nothing else of interest to report, though not for lack of trying .

Vialli, the Polish teacher who let me crash at his friend's apartment in Apkujeong, recovering from a new made-in-Thailand tattoo, 180 pounds of solid muscle, also came up short and to add insult - he lost his cell phone. One piece of bad luck I have (touch wood) so far been able to avoid.

I was supposed to go to church this morning but Shelley, my guide to interdenominational English language faith, was too hung over (!) to go in the morning, and I had to play soccer at 4:30 today. She is a sinner. I will enjoy tormenting her as much as she has had fun at my expense. (That's a long story - but it involved me making a comment about buying a fictional 'crimson red flamboyant shirt' and the 'repartee' centered on the questionable sexuality of someone who would buy such an item.)

Soccer happened at the World Cup Stadium annex. The game was almost called off because it started to get dark and no one knew how to turn on the stadium lights, nor to contact the ajeoshi who had the magic powers to make it happen. Finally, after about an hour of warming up and watching the sun set, a van pulled up to the gates and the lights flashed to life.

I was playing in borrowed boots. A kind fellow Canadian who was also new to the team took one look at my Topus Multisports (made in Korea!) and offered me his backup pair of indoor shoes. I don't think they helped much, but my benefactor had the unfortunate luck of breaking his leg during the first half (I did NOT - another piece of bad luck dodged). No one was sure about what to do exactly, but in line with the general personality of the do-it-yourself adventurer, teacher, foreigner, everyone was trying to help and tell others what to do. Chaos. I looked concerned and folded my arms over my chest. I stared at the buxom girlfriends of other players. Only two good ideas came out of the group - first, grab some ibuprofen for the beleaguered, and second, call 119 (Koreans do everything backwards).

When the ambulance pulled up, it said "Gyeonggi fire department" on the side, and when it was backing up onto the pitch, it played Beethoven's Fur Elise. No, it's true. It's little things like that which make travelling abroad worthwhile. The EMTs seemed professional enough and they had his leg stabilized and onto the crash cart in good time. The van drove off and we ended up winning 7-4. The new guy's injury illustrated the importance of not getting into any sort of medical trouble away from home. If this had been a life-threatening injury he likely would have died from bungling. It was also interesting to hear the thought process of the injured player - "put me in coach, hahaha -ow."..."someone should call my employer" ..."I heard that in Korea they'll cast you all the way up to your ass. Is that true?"

My own performance was not so great, but I was just happy to get some running in. It was uncertain if I would get a chance to play at all. I am as outclassed as I remember being back in my club days (everyone being bigger, stronger, faster than me) except now everyone is YOUNGER than me too - but I do have a touch that could get better if I could find the time to practice. I aim to, and maybe I'll find a hard-won niche on this team. I'll be leaving before the end of the season, but that sort of transience is the essense of a foreigner.

TRANSIENCE "essence de l'etranger" by Calvin Klein

After the game there was a shuttle that would take players out to a restaurant for sponsored boozing (the sponsor is coming up huge, makes me wonder what Jason does for a living exactly), but I left with the people I came with so I could get a head start on this blog! Oh bully for you.

A Quick One While She's Away

2005-09-03T02:55:00.000+09:00

I absolutely have to go to bed (must get up early to try and patch things up with the fambly) but I thought I'd tell this quick story before I forget it.

I've started exercising again (just started) and I remembered Suwon James telling me about how he went running on the SungKyungKwan U track. I had trouble finding it the first time, but I managed to locate it the last time out.

When I went there this Thursday, around lunch time, it was abandoned. The sun was out, it was hot, a perfect training environment. So I do my first lap. As I start my second lap, I almost trip over a small child, clothed in some sort of cloth diaper, a t-shirt, and a gigantic sun visor. It is crying the soulful, plaintive, timeless cry of children - an echo of the primordial pain of birth, life and eventual death. This kid is not holding back - it is getting a real workout, what with the bellowing after her..."omma" and walking at child-full-speed. But where is Omoni?

The answer is she is on the track, about 200 m in front of me, and power walking away from her helpless progeny. I catch up to her and slow down enough to try and gauge the mental state of a mom who just leaves her toddler to wander around an olympic size running oval. She is oblivious to me, so I do a mental shrug, lap the bawling child, and then lap mom again. At this point the wee one has lost sight of her mom completely and is wandering in the wrong direction, but the crying has not subsided in volume. Tough break kid - I guess this is how they make em tough in preparation for army service.

After a few more laps the whole scene became too pathetic for me -I daydreamed for a while about how quickly I'd get deported if I took matters into my own hands and then I just left. It was time to get ready for work anyway.

Meltdown

2005-08-31T21:03:00.000+09:00

So I was supposed to go hiking with Chris today and I bailed without calling - then I was supposed to go to Caribbean Bay with some other folks and I bailed on them... basically I couldn't bring myself to get up in the morning.

Today I made plans to meet people in Itaewon and instead I went to sleep. I am having a mental meltdown on a major scale - either that or I've caught mono from...something. I need to get myself into a gym, a psychiatrist's office or buy big bag of meth. It's anybody's guess if I'll make it into work tomorrow.

The Road Goes Ever On

2005-08-30T19:06:00.000+09:00

This is my classroom. It is about the same size as my apartment, which gives you an idea about the source of some of my discipline problems. That is, classroom discipline problems, not personal discipline problems, yet I have plenty of those too. :P

Ok, with this photo as inspiration for getting out of the ESL teaching kharmic cycle, let this be an open forum for brainstorming on The Future of Cal-mo-dee. Maybe it will be helpful for other folks lost in the English Teacher eddy.

Option 1: I have been toying more and more with getting an MBA from the New Taiwan University's College of Management. An MBA appeals to my entrepreneurial bent, it's a logical next step at my age, although maybe a bit of a big step considering all the lost time of my youth. Some CV embellishment would be necessary. I am keen to take the GMAT and I've even procured a few study aids. Getting the MBA from NTU has the advantages of being
a) extremely cheap - only 3000 US dollars for two years(!) Incredibly, although it's a new program, it's still rated 25th out of Asian schools.
b) I could also pursue some Chinese studies, and even at my advanced age, learning new languages is highly appealing to me right now.
I would probably need to work in Korea for another year to save up enough money to fly over and spend two years without income. I am guessing 12 k US all together.

The disadvantages of this scheme - I don't know precisely what I would do once I get back home. The MBA would help me get a job, but what kind of job? The NTU English MBA isn't accredited by any big org but they're working on it, and it is from an internationally reputable school. I hope it would be seen as a logical choice for a student of Asian studies, but, I don't have any previous official language study qualifications.

Option 2: try out for the Suwon Blue Wings. Become a professional footballer maybe the first (?)to start their career beyond 20s. Then move to Read Madrid and fill the gap in the roster caused by Michael Owen's 17 million pound transfer to Newcastle.

Option 3: Go home and resume my old working life with Frankie Five Fingers - try to get a job building websites or writing for websites. The advantage of this scheme is that it would be comfortable - and there is no better person to work with than Frank. The disadvantages are that it would be difficult and mabye not play to my strengths. If it didn't work for me the first five years I should probably try something a bit different. A variation of this scheme is trying to get a job with interesting companies like EA as a GUI artist / designer. I could probably pull it off if I work hard. Again, I don't know how much of a future there would be in that.

Option 4: Continue teaching and try to get work editing - while submitting as much of my writing to as many interested parties as possible. This has the advantage of being an entirely new type of endeavour, but that is also its disadvantage - starting new, no experience, no joy. This is a dangerous plan since the longer I teach, the more difficult it will be to stop. Or to ever try something else.

Speaking of writing - I'm starting the book - will publish in installments on the super secret site. Ask for access if you want to read it. No, it's not the story of an English teacher who moves to Korea.

Hmm I thought I had more ideas than this. Could this sort of ..mental inflation... be the cause of my deplorably bad life strategies? Please feel free to comment and add your advice, bitchslaps and whatnot. Next post - some notes from the Wee Booke of Goales - a compilation of the aspirations and failures that made me the twisted shard of a man you read today.

Forgiveness

2005-08-29T09:43:00.000+09:00

It has been some time since I have written anything, and, in my current emotional state, writing seems to be one of the only things I can do. Here are some thoughts on my situation, with a bit of a redemption and healing theme.

I have had 9 work-free days to enjoy (after a month of hell), and yet I haven't managed to call a single important person, or go to a single important place. I'm going to forgive myself for wasting nine days of glorious free time, and I hope you will do the same. At least I finished Jade Empire, which, if you do that sort of thing, comes highly recommended.

I have come to terms with the fact that I am either
a) suffering another debilitating bout of depression or
b) I'm suffering from culture shock - possibly aggravated by (a)

If any of my unfortunate family are reading this I can only say that our brief phone conversations make my homesickness worse. Avoiding conversation with friends and family back home is an attempt to cope, maybe not the best way, but I'm sure that must be the reason since I do miss you. This is just a phase. I will get better, I will call, and thank you for your extended patience. I am going to forgive myself for being a selfish fruitcake, and I hope you will too.

It's been eight months in Korea, and what have I accomplished? Well, most importantly, I haven't been fired. I am still here. Congratulations to me for making it to 3/4!

I have lost my immunity to mosquito bites, either that or the poison in Korean mosquitos is highly potent, because the itchy red bumps around my tender ankles takes days to subside.

Speaking of immunity - I never had any a priori defence against spicy food, raised as I was on milk and bread in the heartland of White NAmerica. I thought that maybe eating Korean food would harden me, turn me into a culinary Nietszchean, a gustatorial bronze tongued superman, if you will. I was wrong.
I went out for 짐닭 (super spicy boiled chicken with noodles and veggies) with Ivy League Ike last week and it nearly destroyed me. I had a small pile of tissues competing for space with my leftover chicken bones on the table, pathetically weak against the power of 'gochu' (hot red chiles). Curiously, I've been told Koreans consider mustard to be very spicy, and have trouble eating it. Maybe our tongues are configured differently? It's OK that I have trouble eating spicy food, what's not okay is paying for a gym membership and then not using it to burn off said food. If I come back to Canada fatter than when I left I will be seriously pissed.

Korean girls are coy and their curiosity about western men is mitigated by a fairly strict social code that constrains them from any form of tawdriness. Chris and I agreed that their lot is pitiable - torn by the sordid influences of foreign media (TV) and ruled like peasants by their families. Then again, there are some enlightened ones - (I am told) I need to get out more, beyond the sleepy confines of 천천동. I am going to forgive myself for being a recluse, and vow to concentrate more on practicing Korean than on playing my Xbox.

I am not saving or sending home as much money as I thought I would. The prime directive has been clouded. What am I doing here, besides ruining my "career", if I don't send home enough money to pay off my familial debt? I am going to forgive myself for having a psycho boss who makes even the mere thought of taking private lessons impractical. I won't forgive myself for being a spendthrift but I will forgive myself for having a lower-than-expected income, especially after my lucrative first and second quarters. I will make more money if and when I decide to work elsewhere during my second year. I will send it straight to mum and da'.

This does, oddly, make me feel better! Next post: future plans.

Wedding

2005-08-26T12:08:00.000+09:00

Congratulations to Brandon and Dawn on their wedding today. You're both great people - optimistic, intelligent, and kind. I can't wait to see you again, and to talk about whatever over some wine, with or without cat attendants.

Day 7

2005-08-05T00:27:00.000+09:00

I probably overreacted yesterday - whoo- boy. Trying to get me to work hard is like trying to hide a smoker's cigarettes - not pretty.

Still, I did go through with my plan to wear a suit and tie to work. Everyone in the joint assumed I was going to or coming from an interview, and made the half-joking, snide, yet pryingly obvious witticism - "so, how'd the interview go?" To each one I gave a gravelly "don't be ridiculous".

Haha - only someone really going to an interview would NOT joke about it.

I apologized for my outburst yesterday to El Capitan and she ever so slowly (remember,we're dealing with a form of ESL speak in all transactions) explained that I probably "lost my temperature" because of the stress from poor teaching evaluations.

Strangely, at lunch Suwon Sue, the foxy Korean staffer, (getting foxier?) asked me out to dinner after work. I was HIGHLY suspicious, and almost refused. She said it was because I was so sharply dressed. What is going on? Has the company given her a seduction budget to keep me from straying? Let's hope so!

Dinner with Sue was very pleasant. We ate very plain barbecued beef with a variety of wacky Korean side-dishes like candied pumpkin, kimchi varieties 1,2,3,and 4, tofu, mashed potatoes shaped into a perfect sphere, vermicelli in shrieking hot sauce, and of course, shredded cabbage in a small bowl of dressing. We talked about work, and I did my best to try and bring her in from the cold, but the corporate mole would not turn. She started out by reassuring me that she had taken Ivy League Ike out for dinner last week since he was finishing his term at the end of this month. ( i.e. this is not a date.) Yeah, whatever, Suwon Sue!

We did talk a lot about work, as I expected. She isn't the biggest fan of EC, but is so firmly entrenched in the boss-worship that is standard here that she can't see any way out. It turns out she is from a big family of successful siblings - a judge, a professor, a nurse and such. I explained the concept of a 'black sheep' and I told her that we're both black sheep, since my sister is finishing her PhD at the UofT. (I love bragging about this, especially to Koreans.) She asked me about my family, my religion, admitted her age (only one year younger than me - astonishing) and basically sized me up the rest of the time. We both had some guilty fun lampooning Lunatic Liddy, an endearingly bizarre, yet obnoxiously strange Korean co-worker. Actually, I could probably write a book about that one, but later. She also asked what I had done with the rose she gave me. Why, it's image is in this blog, gentle reader, where it will live the remainder of its fated lifespan since I didn't think to dry it, the way Boytek did. Are we the only ones to whom she's given flowers?

After dinner (she paid! or was it the hagwon? - I asked and she claimed it was her card) , she bought us ice cream, and we shared a cab home. Initially she offered me the front seat, but someone was already in it -this is a common practice in Korea called ...hapseung. Since taxis are so cheap, cabbies need to double on passengers when they can. However it's the first time I've ever experienced it - probably because I'm a foreigner. So we sat in the back and she joked about how people would think we were dating. My arrogant take on this is that she was intrigued by the idea, but horrified by what people would think.

Consequently, I suspect that will pretty much be the end of that; although I'm duty and honour bound to offer to spring for the second dinner now, aren't I?

Later I went to the gym, and Mr. Lee offered me a stick of gum for the second time - this time in the locker room as I was getting out of my skivvies. Then while I was running on the treadmill the trainer came over to tell me that he would help explain any piece of equipment or free weight exercise that I wanted - I asked for his name - we settled on Lim-trainer after some difficulty. So, that would make a record-low 2 interruptions while working out. They sure love to practice them some English, these friendly elves!

Day 6

2005-08-03T23:52:00.000+09:00

End of Day 6 of a 20 Day marathon of 11 hour teaching days and only one day off in 11. The cracks are starting to show among co-workers. Today El Capitan told me that my shorts were too short (above the knee) in her words ' too sexy' . *
*and now you have a small understanding of the incredible Victorian prudishness that exists in some segments of K-land. Knees haven't been off-limits since hoopskirts and whalebone corsets, b##$!

I said "Should I go home?" Incredulous.
"No, just don't wear them again".
I gathered my things, left the staff room and slammed my classroom door behind me. When you consider the nu-metal t-shirts and tear-away parachute pants that some other teachers wear I am a paragon of sartorial professionalism. To quote Wayne Gretzky - Damn right I'm hot. I feel like I'm being persecuted. Capitan came to my class to make sure I wasn't too angry - like quitting angry, I guess. If she needs something to liven up her 13 hour working days she picked the wrong mark. She has no clue how unpleasant a weaselly little passive aggressive foreigner can be.

I think I'll start by wearing a suit and tie tomorrow and then test the existence of a non-smoking policy in the teacher's room.

Later, HippieChick and Dharma told me that my main problem was combining checked fabrics. "It makes your eyes scattered".

Ville d'encules

2005-07-31T18:32:00.000+09:00

I'm questioning the wisdom of even writing this post, since it will make me unpopular with some, maybe even my own family, but this blog needs some spice, and so here it is.

Recently, an argument was made (keeping in mind that this is my interpretation and it was not an explicitly constructed argument) that it is unethical or irresponsible for a (male) teacher of English to seek a romantic entanglement (possibly short-term), with a (female) Korean native.

Their supporting points are :

1. a low level of communication means that your relationship is based on a physical level that doesn't permit of the hallowed meeting of minds that characterizes the vast majority of relationships between people who share the same culture.

2. because this sort of dalliance has none of the affirmative platonic joys in point #1 above it necessarily means that the Korean woman is using the foreign man to learn English.
Were there other arguments? If so, they escaped my notice.

These arguments are bollocks. For the first, it's up to respective participants in any friendship or marriage or booty call to decide how important deep conversations are.

For the second, we are all users or being used to some extent in any relationship with other people. If a woman decides she will sweeten her language exchange with a bit of all right from some sexy exotic Canadian English teacher, then where is the harm in that? Especially if he has some foresight into the inner workings of the feminine mind and knows that they are a variable race of breezy-headed whimsy and blithe contractors in all logical or passionate dealings.

I will state for the record that I am not now involved with anyone, but I do want to learn more about the Korean language and Korean culture. So, who is the logical choice for a guide? Am I a predator? A careless loon? Please explain how.

Friends (united in Booze)

2005-07-31T17:42:00.000+09:00

It's always nice to get an email from my friend Boots Frasilay, even when it's a catch-all mass broadcast shout out to all the folks back home in their respective warrens. I was a fool to ever worry about him - he is one of that rare (maybe unique) breed of human who adventures not for amusement or even out of physical need - like an adrenaline junkie, but because it is the Good life. It is a moral imperative, assigned by the God of examined living to explore the out of ordinary.

So it should come as no surprise that he is now loving life in Van City - the lotus of my eventual return. I wonder if I will sort things out as well as he has?

In the next few weeks he will take a canoe to the headwaters of the Milk River and travel to Regina in time for Fudgie's wedding there. How cool is that? It is a romantic dream that I always wanted to pursue (although I wanted to go all the way to New Orleans).

So here, is my paen to friendship - espcially the small but loyal cadre of hard-drinking, deep-thinking graduates of the Bunker.

I would spend all the time I posibly could with them, but for one simple, and powerful truth about the way we get together. Think on it : What is the one thing that has held the tenuous associations of our past and present endeavours together - the magical ingredient that sustains conversations, and improves long term memory while suppressing the inhibitions that are anathema to good times and orgiastic good times at that.

It is Booze. Boozing. We can't put two of us into a room without a bottle of something being cracked and consumed in the time it takes us to find our chairs and the easy ryhthm that is the hallmark of a good friendship. It goes on without me, and it happens whenever we reunite for a wedding, or whatever else might seem important enough to close the distance (geographic, psychic) between us. I can't do it anymore. I was never particularly famous for sheer fluid volume (especially in this group) but with the advancing years I find I can't even swill more than a few bottled domestic beers without coming over all queasy, and regretting the social mechanism that forces me to fatten my liver and tax my bankroll.

I am sure some day we will develop a taste for a snifter (maybe three) of cognac in a well furnished library with more wood than can be ethically justified by current planetary depredations, and by then, hopefully I will have someting interesting to tell them. Let me then renew my vow to devote as much time as I can to keeping our ties strong, and united in storytelling.

Intensives Suck

2005-07-29T00:48:00.000+09:00

Ok, I said I wasn't going to bitch about work anymore, but ... gawd, it's so cathartic!

So, apparently I was the only person who didn't go to work on the Saturday before Intensives started. That was the reason that my director asked me to come in early on Tuesday. Hey, teachers, grab a brain - when you willingly overwork yourselves for no pay, the rest of us have no leverage to enforce the contract. That is one reason that the Dogok branch was so nice to work for - the teachers ruled that goddamn roost.

Don't get me wrong - I really like the people I work with, it's just that there is some sort of competition to see who can be the patron saint of Stoically bending to some messed Tyrannical Confucian Ideal. Did you read in the newspapers that Korea switched to a 5 day work week? Then start acting like it!

So yes, I went into work 10 minutes late and yes, they called me, and yes, I didn't apologize and yes, I was wearing shorts and sandals (without socks - I mean, please) since it was pandemonically hot. Eat it!

Also, today I was enraged to find that after the serviceman had been let into my apartment to fix the air condititioner all he had done was to COMPLETELY RE-ARRANGE MY PERFECTLY ARRANGED COMPUTER NOOK and to clean out the filter all over my bathroom floor. Do you know what happens when you re-arrange perfection? It becomes much less perfect. Perfection is only attainable in one instance. Do you know what happens to big chunks ( too big for the shower filter) of black goop that had accumulated in my air-con filter and have now mixed with the shower water on my bathroom floor? They become an alien lifeform that I cannot even bear to touch much less look at. Still, I photographed the horror so you that you can be equally indignant. If that weren't enough - this guy went into my tape drawer and used about 5 feet of my double-sided sticky tape. For what????!!! For those of you who know me, you will know that is a pisser.

Ambassador McFatty

2005-07-26T02:21:00.000+09:00

This was originally a comment in BlueShoe's blog, but it's more interesting (and shorter) than most of my blog posts, so I reposted here.

It's seriously embarrassing how our major visible contribution to other cultures is fast food. Koreans totally identify 'Dunkin Donuts' and MacDonalds and 'Burger King' and Starbucks with the USA and North America. I think it totally sucks. I hardly ever eat fast food here anymore because I'm embarrassed to be a foreigner in these places.

I also hate how these 'restaurants' are used as landmarks for every map that is intended to be used by non-Koreans. For one thing - they are a supernumerous blight on every city so they aren't reliable as landmarks. Oh, is this the Subway (sandwich shoppe) that I'm supposed to turn at, or is it the one to my left or the one right across the freakin' street???

Why couldn't we (Namerica) have exported something more enlightened? Why did we create this massive crap as our identity?

Discipline problems

2005-07-20T23:14:00.000+09:00

I am postponing my big Sex in the City post because at work two bad things happened. I think this will be my last 'bitching about work' post no matter how bad things get (well, unless they get theatrically worse) since that is what most Korea bloggers do and I'm trying to keep up with the intellectual standards of Exhibit A and Exhibit B. There is no room for the mundane in a blog!!

Ok so the bad stuff:

First, I forgot that the schedule was changing today and that my J5 class is using a different book, and therefore I started the class without having this particular book handy. It's a book I've used before, so I actually knew the story pretty well already. However, the quality of follow-up questions obviously wasn't there, and it was really a pretty bad screw-up considering the amount of effort necessary to have avoided the mistake. In the event that I was being monitored on camera, I took the old book (which has the same cover) and folded it over and pretended to work with it. One of my students busted me though.

At the break (thankfully there is one) I went to change books and discovered to my horror that there were none available in the staff room! I snuck around to the front desk and asked the director for the new book.

"But I don't understand - when did your schedule change?", she asked, sensing weakness. This might or might not have been a good time to lie, but in my new incarnation as a straight shooter I have basically stopped lying.
"Today." I may or may not have stared at the ground.
"I don't understand - you didn't check for this book before the class started?"
I twisted my heel with hands locked behind my back.
"That is correct, sansaengnim."
She didn't say anything, at that point, and fetched the book, which is good because I almost lost my temper for making me twist in the wind during my entire break.

I slunk back to the classroom and resumed teaching. After the break the class was completely ignoring me - students were talking and building things and playing games on their dictionaries and basically being a bunch of little rotters. I hastily drew a new seating plan on the board, spent ten minutes making them change seats, roundly chewed out the main offenders and resumed teaching, only to have my class interrupted ten minutes later.

Another teacher was ushered in to sub, and then one of the assistant counsellors whisked me into the hallway.

"Who are the worst students in this group?"
WTF? Shouldn't we talk about this later, like when I'm not, you know, in the middle of a class?

"Which students should I speak to in this class? Would it help if I spoke to all of them?"
It was very hard for me to say. They are all pretty bad with one exception. I know that the character of a classroom can change pretty radically with the removal of only one or two students but to ask me to name the worst...
"Maybe..Tom and...John?" I felt like a witness at the McCarthy trials. Give us the names of your known miscreants!
"What about with the girls?" That would be Jenny, but I was reluctant to give her up since she already accuses me of persecuting her.
"Jenny."
We had a quick discussion about the behavior problems they had seen.
"What are you going to do about this class?"
Again I didn't know if tact or truthfulness should be the order of the day.
"I was thinking about going home to Canada."
This had the effect of panicking her (and the whole staff), although I didn't know it yet. Anyway, I wrapped up the class and then Sue and I had a long discussion with some strategizing about what to do with the J5s.

She offered to take me out for a drink and talk about it some more (wow - they really really don't want me to quit), at this point I was through talking. You don't interrupt my class without someone being violently choked to death, either myself or one of my students.

During our 'pep talk' Sue did recommend one thing that I thought was a good idea. Get them to work on a project and then present it in front of one of the counsellors and the parents. I thought they weren't ready for parental prime-time but a live class presentation in front of Sue would terrify them AND shake their schedule up enough to make it interesting.

So today is the big presentation day - I have a lineup of nervous kiddies with their best pencil crayon on bond paper in hand and what does Sue do? She goes on vacation. Love the hagwon! It's a matter of life and death and these chillunzes lives are on the line!! BUT it's really not important at all, my job is only to create stress in you.

Today I debated the merits of quitting with a coworker but she brought me around to the logical conclusion. I'm almost done. Face the challenge. Stiff upper lip and all that.
Aye capn.

Today my director asked me to come in 3 hours early NOT including the 2 hours of prep time. Please come in and work 5 unapid hours, as a sort of dry run for the 11 hour work day hell you will experience next week. ##@@@!

겹다 !!

2005-07-19T02:00:00.000+09:00

Before I turn this wee hamlet into a Springeresque hotbed of controversy, I thought I would try to disarm my critics by showcasing the artistic, discerning and sensitive side of this humble correspondent. To that end - a brief photographic essay.

I believe that I have entitled this post 'cute' in Korean, and if I am mistaken, I beg the pardon of my faithful Korean readership (# confirmed : 0 -ed) who may perceive that I am still a novice, and heartily making egregious errors of spelling and grammar. * (Is it spelling in Hangul?)

*This is the way to enlightenment, devoted philosophiles - dance like nobody's watching, type like nobody's reading, because (almost) no one is. Self-consciousness can only lead to contrivance! Then again, a moderate self-censorship might help me keep my friends and job, and avoid a lynching back home.

The theme of this montage is East Asian fascination with the cutesy cartoon ambassador. It took me no more than a 5 minute stroll outside my villa to record all the logos you see in this photo. Most of them are straightforward, if whimsical depictions of the food one can reasonably expect to dispatch within the establishment. There is a certain unsavoury compact between the mascot and the viewer, the one urging the other to sample the delights of its 3D brethren. A hospitable grin becomes a fiendish leer as the damnable traitor's complicity in entreating us to devour his compatriots emerges at the forefront of our conscience. And yet, the lure of gastronomic delights overcomes all objections in the end, doesn't it, friends? We won't tell, will we? No, for we are hungry, so very hungry. (reptilian susurrations here)

One might think that with such an endless environmental barrage of the cutesy and saccharine that the Korean mindset is frivolous and higgledy-piggledy. Not at all! Possibly higgledy, but definitely not piggledy. Let no man say I ever even hinted at piggledliness in the national character. (I must pause here to determine if the screaming woman in the apartment immediately across from mine is being beaten to death or merely beaten to histrionics. Why are there no AFN commercials on what to do in the event of almost witnessing horrendous domestic abuse? Gawd, I wish I could call the police. )

Speaking of which -the usefulness of cartoon symbols in Korea is not limited to restaurants and bars, since the symbol for the Seoul metropolitan police force is none other than a helpful, optimistic and friendly rat. The ever-vigilant and industrious SMPF could not have possibly chosen a more fitting representative.

Dimitri in Seoul

2005-07-17T23:16:00.000+09:00

edit: I wanted to show you some cool photos today but the camera is off-line. I suspect a faulty usb cable. I suspect it was Loo-ni's fault (the person who 'borrowed' my camera last week).

I went to see Dimitri in Paris in Seoul at M2 last night. It was the second time in as many weeks that I have been to that club, and frankly I'm not entirely sure why. I go with Tall Paul, a cool guy from Winnipeg who is, I don't want to say desperately, but lustily pursuing Korean girls. We are neither of us having any sort of success.

A few other teachers at school tried to persuade me to go to Mudfest, a giant bacchanal in reverence to mud, a big beach party or something like that. I couldn't relinquish a whole weekend to frenzied partying, and frankly, I don't know how any other teacher manages it.

Dimitri was awesome, but like all live shows this one fell short of what I remember hearing on the computer. M2 is a typical house music club, dark and full of beautiful people, both Korean and not, but is it really worth 20k won to stomp your feet in somewhat agitated confusion for six hours? Actually, maybe.

We also went to a hiphop club upstairs, which was smaller, but maybe more fun. They were playing all sorts of old skool standards from the Beastie Boys to House of Pain to Cypress Hill. I have no earthly business being in these clubs, at my age, but I'm still not the oldest foreigner there, and let's not forget why we go to these places - because we are silly.

Focus on students I

2005-07-16T05:33:00.000+09:00

The best and worst part about teaching is working with students.

Most of them have small, yet fully developed personalities that are, like their adult counterparts, a mix of the delightful and damnable.

For example I have one junior student that I teach who is convinced that I dislike her and that I punish her in disproportion to her misdeeds. She is what one teacher calls 'bipolar'; jubilant and rowdy one minute, and then, stinging from a rebuke, real or imagined, she pouts the rest of the class and can't be coaxed to answer any questions. I hope I'm not prejudiced but she uses her mood swings as an excuse to be lazy in class, to not do homework and to encourage others to misbehave by picking fights with boys and so forth.

...

I am not one of those teachers who believes that through superhuman application of my will that I can force unwilling students to learn. Some of them are too young to understand that learning is their decision, and some of them will come around later in life; some of them never will. Some of them just plain hate English class, and that is not something that can be overcome. The parents who are forcing Nicole to come to the academy every day are plain foolish to think that it's doing anything besides ingraining her future distaste for language learning, and they're wasting their money to boot. Get these kids out of academic classes - get them working as mechanics, nail artists, salon owners, professional golfers, or whatever they were meant to be. Why do we (West and East alike) cling to the idea that all our children should be skilled pianists, bilingual ballerinas with pre-med degrees? Pick what you're good at, pick something you like, and stick with it.

...

A few days ago I roared at my entire class of Junior 5 students. They are my only 3 hour class, and unfortunately, they are the most difficult to control. I scared them, and they behaved a bit better the next class, but I felt rotten for a day afterwards. I know it's irrational to feel bad about something that they forget minutes after leaving my class, but I have a deep-rooted hatred of yellers. There has to be a better way to manage a class than by shouting. Mr. Babin never had to yell to keep his class in line, but then again, that was High School.

...

Now that it's summer time and I'm wearing short sleeves, some of my students have developed a fascination with my arm hair. Koreans don't really have any body hair to speak of, so when my students first see it, their usual reaction is wide-eyed astonishment. When they touch my arm, they're usually repulsed, but then, like a cat, they can't wait for me to pass their desk so that they can pet me. One of my Basic students tries to generate as much static electricity as he can by grabbing my arm and rapidly rubbing it with the palm of his hand. Another boy has noticed that I occasionally dye my arm hair blonde but he isn't sure if I am shaving it or what. I'm not letting on, since I have no idea what parents would think about such a bizarre weiguk fetish.

Birthday

2005-07-11T23:54:00.000+09:00

So in 6 minutes, Korean time, I'll arbitrarily advance one calendar year. It's the most completely meaningless birthday ever. I've lied about my age to everyone I've ever met, and I've frequently lied about the date. I entered an unholy alliance with the school counsellor in charge of my records to NOT have a party at work. I'll have to see if they come through. I am psychopathically defiant about the passage of time, and frankly, it seems to be working.

To quote my grandfather:
"It's an anniversary, not a celebration."

Have been very bad about keeping in touch with the family. I guess it's a combination of the usual factors - pecuniary embarrassment, sleep disordered schedules, the time difference and tragic lethargy. They have no idea how much I miss them, but I can't complain too much here nor any time because making people worry about you is just what a shitwad does.

Writing to a wall

2005-07-07T02:54:00.000+09:00

I suspected as much, but the host of expatriate English majors are writing up a storm on the internet and the only outlet for their misguided creativity (besides blogger or typepad) is on Korean expat community websites. Here are some highlights I located after only a few minutes at Pusanweb (koreabridge):

A story about making a visa run to Japan that beasts my Osaka blog post all to hell: (sounds like I was lucky to avoid Fukuoka)
http://koreabridge.com/writings/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=88
And then from the man who edits Koreabridge and Pusanweb, a novel-length version of a visa run story, extremely literate and filled with arcana.
http://thormay.net/koreadiary/visarun.html
One has to question the good sense of writing a novel-length story about a fairly mundane event, but I guess there is a perverse Warholian satisfaction to be gained from COMPLETELY describing something.

Scott Liam Soper is difficult to read because he doesn't write well. Technically, he is longer-winded than I am, and he can't resist an awkwardly constructed phrase. However, this little analysis of OLD BOY, the Korean cult hit is worth a gander:
http://koreabridge.com/writings/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=150

This is more like a blog posting, but it's utterly fascinating for so many reasons. First, it details the nightmarish prospect of needing a doctor in a foreign country. Then it shows a tantalizing glimpse of what it must be like to be a Russian woman in Korea. Finally, it asks the question, "why does everyone need to be an asshole?" but one suspects that the writer, in her unfortunate mental state, is actually the antagonist.
http://koreabridge.com/writings/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=147

A fascinatingly vast and depressingly underappreciated wasteland of literary ambition (score: 0)

Osaka Giganta-post

2005-07-06T01:23:00.000+09:00

I'm not sure what possessed me to ramble on so much. I couldn't get everything down in one sitting, so it became a bit less like blogging and a bit more like memorandizing. I guess I want to write more, and this blogging process is one way to purge and refine. Purge and refine. Hopefully it's a bit like priming a pump, and this rough, cluttered, contaminated ooze will one day give way to a clear, satisfying, pristine prose.

A nutty preamble:

Whenever I meet a foreigner (non-Korean) I invariably seem to group these exchanges into two emotional categories. The first is reserved for encounters with North Americans. I am sorry to report, Canada, but the only real difference in first impressions between the Yanks and us is that we tend to be a little lower-key. This might be a form of restraint or it might just be a lack of personality. Sorry, again, to confirm this stereotype. The other category is for anyone else.

I hate meeting North Americans. This is usually a lonely English teacher (I’m lonely -ed.) who wants to feel some kind of secret brotherhood with a similarly oppressed E-2 carrier. He wants to bitch about the number of hours he’s forced to work at his crappy hagwon (I’ve been coming into school almost an hour or two early every day, which seems to be keeping the Overlord happy, but I get nothing extra done. I eat lunch there now, mostly microwaved mandu with the free rice they give us. I think I should start bringing the laptop in and write a chapter or verse every day. In fact, it’s as good as done.) He might want to impress me with the number of years he’s been unable to leave Korea or he might just want to show me how friendly he is. Yes, you’re friendlier than I am; I never would have approached you in a million years, but you made the first move, congratulations Future Mr. Extroversion 2006. Why don’t you remember my name and call me by it when you ambush me in another few months, just to rub it in? Fuck you!

Or they might just be complete psychopaths, like the guy from Nova Scotia who started talking at me in the airport coming home from Osaka. He starts with a banality about coming back from vacation, and then commits the cardinal sin of assuming I’m an English teacher. Yes, I’m white, I’m leaving Japan and I have a man-bag, but c’mon. At least make the effort to ask me what I do, as though there were some slim chance that a guy dressed like me, bathed in two days of sweat, could possibly be a salesman, or a male prostitute. As Bruce aptly pointed out, the only job worse than English teacher in Asia, is military. (I guess I’m slowly moving the family up the chain, but I still don’t have that 2k I owe them for this month.) Anyway, he staunchly keeps the topic of conversation fixed on himself until he sees the Korean girl he’d been styling moments before, and he stops, mid-sentence mind, to turn around and work on this lass. This conversation is OVER! Ok, whatever, I have My Country, and I’m reading the story about Gun-na-noot, a man who took no guff from anyone, red or white, and got away with the perfect crime. Fantastic stuff.

But, this, individual, is speaking loud and indiscreetly (a common Namerican* trait, after all what ignorant savage here could understand what we’re saying?) so I have no choice but to devote 15% of my mental processor to his bilge. He’s studying Tae-kwon-do here in Korea (yea whatever doughboy), and he was an actor before that; he plays guitar in his spare time (oh please) and he was in Edmonton for his brother’s wedding. This last tidbit he had told me before, and he made a face when he pronounced Edmonton. At least he didn’t say Deadmonton or Edmonchuck cuz I likely would have punched him in the head, delaying my flight, maybe. The worst part is – she’s eating it up. She just got back from a year in New Zealand, her English is not bad, and she’s going to university in Suwon (!) She sounds perky, bright, confident, optimistic. At this point I have to bookmark and peer over my shoulder – hmm, well, she’s too good for this troll anyway.
* yes I just coined that

You may have noticed that I used the masculine when describing these extemporaneous rendez-vous, since I don’t get approached (so alone) by random female weiguks (foreigners) very often. I guess I would change my tune if they did.

The other group of encounters is with assorted folks from New Zealand, Ireland, Russia, even Cambodia. I had a short conversation (in French!) with a Cambodian in front of Suwon James and Cornell Ben. Could I have been any cooler than at that moment? It was hard to understand him because of his accent. Cambodian French is straight out of Star Wars, but he was telling me the name of the current PM, and the trouble with the Khmer Rouge. He was a lonely guy too, but I was more than happy to make my friends wait while I played the friendly Canadian, since, well, this was just different. I guess the difference between group 1 and 2 is that the one is commonplace and plays out on the same themes whereas group 2 conversations could be like the one with the New Zealander who was escorting two Romanian models (I need a girlfriend) back to Seoul from Osaka. “I’m bringing these two with me – they’re models!” he whispered conspiratorially. Yes, I can see that. Well, I’ll see you on the plane, and maybe they can set me up with some shorter friends … then again, I think I’ve flirted enough with the Eastern European ‘passion’ (read: anger).

To sum this part up – as long as you are exotic, I will like you, otherwise I am a complete jackass? No, that can’t be right.

Osaka – (feel free, at this point, to grab a coffee, finish a worksheet or come back in the morning -ed)

My first intercultural Japanese experience was to explain in Korean to the person at the information counter that I don’t understand Japanese. I felt some of the frustration that language students must experience when they get to Canada and realize that all their training is for nought since we speak too quickly and use a lot of SnoopDoggery. I can’t even ask where something is. I can’t even be sure I’m saying ‘konnichiwa’ properly. Ach!

Then I tried to decipher the subway ticket machine. Impossible to get right the first time. Luckily, all I had to do was say “Namba Nankai” and shove a yen note in the teller’s direction.

Then it was off to find the Korean embassy. It is supposed to be opposite the Holiday Inn, but I could not make head nor tails of the … Jason (Jason is one of my Basic4 students – he insisted on typing his name here. **) directions that came with my ticket. The directions rely on the directed to use a particular exit, but that exit was not indicated by a number. I resolved to correct this oversight upon my return. After searching fruitlessly for a few hours (I have nothing but time to kill at this point) I buckled and asked the taxi stand attendant (who speaks perfect English) for directions to the Holiday Inn. “The name has changed – but it is over there.” Well there you go – what chance did I have? The new hotel name is Riva Nanka (as in Nankai) and I also updated this inconsistency upon my return. Can you see how the perils of navigational failure were strewn across my path at every turn? If I had arrived on the correct flight I assuredly would have missed my appointment with the embassy so there is no further doubt in my mind that the whole adventure was a blessing in disguise.
**Yes I'm blogging on company time. It is a quintessentially ME thing to do. But don't worry excessively about the quality of my student's education - all my prep is done.

After locating the embassy there was only one further objective – locate a hot English-speaking j-girl and mack down with her post haste. In my airport-haggard state, complete with day’s beard growth and accompanying veil of sweat, it would not be easy. In fact, I found the whole population of Osaka surprisingly diffident to foreign faces, although there were a few curious stares. I tried to find a club where I could dance a few hours away, but it seems that the most popular pastime in this part of town is to ride one’s bike (bravo to Japan! – there is no similar practical enthusiasm for cheap, non-polluting transportation in Seoul) with the girlfriend suspended on rear wheel posts, overlooking the riders shoulders. Cruising.

It was not without it’s appeal, and I briefly considered commandeering one of the many unguarded Western Flyers parked everywhere. I did not, since getting caught stealing a bike would probably delay my visa application.

After another few hours of aimless wandering I decided it was time to seek shelter. It took me only a few minutes to find a capsule hotel very close to the embassy.

I wasn’t entirely serious about staying at a capsule hotel, but having found one, I wasn’t disappointed by the experience. You literally sleep in a capsule. There are hundreds on one floor. The capsule itself has a radio, alarm and a TV, that is coin-operated. By the time I had shaved, done laundry, showered, sauna’d, eaten dinner and figured out the locker system and how to tie the communal bathrobe, I was too tired to check out what manner of ‘world class perversion*’ might be on offer.
*G. Wallace ca. approx 2001

It was interesting to see how much I could obtain without speaking a word of Japanese besides ‘arigato’. I think the concierge was getting a little tired of my constant appearances at the front desk, though. In the morning I put my bathrobe (everyone wears this, all the time) in the laundry bin, collected my civilian clothes and got my shoes out of their special locker, back into the massively overpowered Asian sun.

The visa application process was simple. I spent the rest of the day touring around the giant shopping arcades in Namba, stopping at a small cafe near the subway station, reading a book on the top flight of stairs of a seemingly abandoned futuristic building until my shade ran out and then I spent a good half hour deciphering the subway ticket machine to get to the aquarium and the Tempazon harbour Ferris Wheel.

For 700 yen, this was a bargain. A canned soundtrack in Japanese and English tells you some interesting facts about things like the suspension bridge (largest in the world) that spans Kobe and Osaka, and it’s (obviously) a great view. Crom curse me for a fool for forgetting the camera. I saw more cool images in 1.5 days in Osaka than I have in the whole time I have been in Korea. This is most likely due to the type of leisurely wandering that an unscheduled visa run encourages. The aquarium was a bit expensive, but I got to see some sharks and rays. Speaking of the largest in the world, there is some confusion about whether I was in fact, on the largest Ferris wheel in the world. I’m still not sure; a box of rice cakes to whomever can settle the issue.

After that it was rapito train back to Kansai airport. Goodbye Osaka, for now.

When I left the airport in Seoul I was gratified to see that Nova Scotia Nob had struck out with Suwon Sally and was taking the bus home alone to Sinchon. He didn’t return my cheerful farewell.

The times they are a Changin ...yet again.

2005-07-06T00:35:00.000+09:00

Today one of my students asked me if I had heard about B.O.A., a Korean (or is it Japanese?) pop group. I HAVE actually, since I am just that cool, but of course I haven't heard any of their music. Korean music S - U - C - K - S. There is just no other way to put it. All of it - from every genre EXCEPT samul nori, which you have to respect, because it's traditional music. Also, my (possibly first) Korean friend, Suwon James, is a class player, among other things.

Anyway, this student asked me if I had heard a particular song - "Girls on Top". That's a Hoodoo Gurus song, I thought.
Then I went BACK IN TIME. And several years later I was back in the classroom but NO TIME HAD PASSED. freaky.

Anyway, I can't seem to find the particular song this student was talking about anywhere. I wonder where Koreans steal their music? It's academic since, as I mentioned above, the song will suck.

End of an Era (of darkness)

2005-06-30T02:20:00.000+09:00

I am still working on my Osaka summary giganta-post, and I have to get up early tomorrow to go to the immigration office in Korea, and fill out yet more paperwork in aid of completing my visa changes.

New advertising slogan : Red Tape Korea (replacing Dynamic Korea)

I have no idea how a government as bureaucratic and worshipful of red tape as South Korea's can survive on such a low tax rate. How does this country keep it together?? Mind you, I wonder the same thing about Canada, for different reasons.

My da' retired and his bash was this Friday. It was an important day for me as well as for him since a lot of the 'what' and 'why' of what I do is based on his frustration with work and the working world. Anwyay, I can't do better than to cut and paste my sister's description of the party and some appended back and forth comments between us. (hope this is Ok, sis?)

Hi half-moon bear (she really calls him that -ed) Although you weren't at the party, you were there. We displayed your photo in a prominent spot in the family room, and many a guest were asking about you. MoMo read your letter out loud, and we were all very touched. I might even say that dear old Dad was misty eyed...The party was fun, about 40 people showed up over the course of the evening. There was a keg of beer on the deck, and enough barbequed chicken legs to feed about 150 people. Because, of course, this was Dad's "Free Beer and Chicken Party" (after an old John Lee Hooker album). During the toasts and speeches, a few of Dad's old friends said some very nice words about him (!!) and told some great stories. I'll do my best to relay some of these to you

I realized that many of Dad's good old friends are his outdoor buddies. There's a neat bond that develops between people who camp, hike, paddle together. (birds of a feather risk hypothermia together -ed) One friend of his, Lance, made a wonderful toast. He scolded Dad for using old camping pots that should have been replaced long ago, but attributed it to Dad's Scottish thriftiness. In the same spirit of thrift he presented Dad with a set of pots--newer, but still well used--only if he could get the old pots in return. He also presented him with an old Peterborough beaver tail paddle, explaining that Dad has always envied his collection of paddling gear. Finally, he presented Dad with a pot containing a number of native plants that he had grown from seed. A number of other people told great Hiking Stories. It was fun.

Grampy made a lovely toast, telling a story about how, when growing up in Willowvale, Dad would come home from school for lunch and explain to Nana that he would likely skip out on the rest of the day and have a "nice little half holiday." Of course, Nana would shoo him back to school. Grampy closed the toast by wishing Dad the best as he has finally reached his true half-holiday.

Grandpa told the old "when I first met HMB sr." story. It had everyone in stitches. At the end of the evening almost everyone had gone home, but a few old friends stuck around and drank some scotch with Dad before finally calling it a night.

My reply:

The Free Beer and Chicken party is so perfect! I can remember the cover of that album in the living room of the old house. It sums up his sense of 'fun' , do you think?
HMB
ps. how did Grampy seem to you?

Her reply:
Well, in some ways Grampy is doing well, in that we weren't sure if he'd be healthy enough to come out to the party. Not only did he fly out, but hestayed up quite late that night and seemed to be having a good time. I think he must have put all of his energy into it, wanting to be a part of the fun.But overall, he's far weaker and thinner than I've ever seen him. His balance isn't so good, so he's using a cane. Nana is doing quite well, but you can tell that she's pretty worried about him.

An open message for Father Time : If I ever find out where you live I am personally going to beat your fucking head in with that cane.

Osaka? Yousaka!

2005-06-27T19:37:00.000+09:00

this was written two days ago in Osaka. I couldn't read 'publish post' and 'save as draft' since it was in Japan-letters -ed

The Japanese keyboard is an amalgamation of every kabbalic symbol devised by cults both dark and light so if there are some stray keystrokes here and there - let:s say it gives the text some local flavour.

I had a bad feeling that something would go wrong today, can you guess what happened? Yes, I missed my flight during the visa run. I thought 3 hours lead time for a 10am monday flight would be enough, but apparently it is not, not by an hour. \Did you hear that internet people? If you are going to INcheon airport from Jangahn you need to allow at least 4 hours by taxi and limousine shuttle. 4 freaking hours\!!!

With my head already on the chopping block I had to lie like I:ve never lied before. I told black filthy lies, blamed it all on the airline and then redoubled my lies with twice the ferocity, using the best dad voice I could muster until finally the airline and hagwon were suspicious, but baffled enough to let me stay here overnight. \an extra day in Osaka might be interesting, but not a great career move - sound familiar?

First observation - the Japanese are short! I thought it was just Korean propoganda, but they really are a race of lissome cute little people. A lothlorien of the Orient, a wee folk who will never apologize for enslaving women for sex during wwII. No wonder their halfling enchantments hold men like Big Duke in thrall. \the hobbitsian character of every public space and high tech doodads like the hand dryer that :sucks: your hand dry makes it like..well, like Japan.

Speaking of wwII, I am reading *My Country* by Pierre Berton and it is superb! \every story is a nugget of Canadiana gold - crafted so as to take out all the boring parts, and leave the violent, gross, erotic, heart-warming, inspiring and just plain cool things that makes History so wondrous. Sort of like a Canadian History bathroom book, but better. After every chapter I wanted to call up Ken and Gavin, Mr. Canada, and Aaron and just talk. But that:s an itch I can:t scratch, melancholy sets in. These stories need to be shouted from the highest Regina bungalow, to the lowliest Dene hall so start spreading the word. Berton rocks.
Thanks to Bruce, my patron as usual, for leaving the book behind - you will not be left behind, my friend if you tell me where to find you.

as I head to Nankai to try to find a capsule hotel that charges less than 100$ a night I leave you with the words of Billy Bishop, my aforementioned link to wwII.

Three more pilots lost today. all good men. Oh, how I detest the huns. I loathe them with all my heart. they have done in so many of my best friends. I:ll make them pay, I swear.
-B. Bishop

I:ll never forget what they did to our boys
-gramma Wallace

Olympic Park

2005-06-16T12:27:00.000+09:00

Here are some photos I took of Olympic park near Jamsil a few weeks ago. I took these while I was hanging out with "Jack", one of Bruce's acquaintances. Bruce described him as 'a bit of a nerd who now has the money to hang out with the cool guys'. I guess that's pretty accurate although I don't know about that last part. Jack was fun to hang out with - he just wants to talk about anything in English, and he bought me a couple of beers while we lounged around the park (crawling with children since it was the Children's Day holiday). One thing about Korea is you can and will see people drinking anywhere in public, and it's OK. At night you will see drunken folk from all walks of life, and their walk is usually wobbly and meandering. I guess they have to deal with the unrelenting pressure somehow.

Jack and I haven't hung out since then; it's my turn to call him. The problem is that Bruce had tons of free time to do whatever he wanted, including hanging out with someone for a few hours during the week. I don't really have the luxury, although I should probably use my time better.

Take this job and love it...or else!

2005-06-16T02:42:00.000+09:00

who-do-you-work-with.html
not-another-one.html

I'm such a bitch. I really enjoy spying on this particular former co-worker because a) I'm a terrible voyeur, and b) because we had a bit of a falling out during the time that I worked with him.

Here's the whole story, or at least what I can remember (hopefully only the interesting parts).

Brett likes fashionable street clothes and vinl records. He likes to keep up on all the latest slang, and he uses it to admittedly hilarious effect. He is a bad speller, but he is a good teacher, I believe, since he knows how to keep his students in line and to entertain them at the same time. It doesn't take long for anyone who meets him to realize that Brett is cool.

Brett's job is to be COOL. It's what he does. So yes, he is good at it, but I have a natural disinclination for the relentlessly cool. I'm talking about those who are not willing to go out on a limb once in a while (show me the silly!), those who don't use some form of self-deprecatory humour, or at the least, those who can't laugh at themselves. Actually, that last part is only true if the individual in question persists in laughing at others, which Brett most certainly does. Dude even picks on his own girlfriend (a beautiful human being inside and out), relentlessly, in fact. And when the tables are turned I rarely heard him say something along the lines of 'ooh, got me there', or 'good one'. Brett's role is to poke fun at your expense and your job was to laugh with him about it. I'm not innocent when it comes to lampooning the culls, but this sort of thing has to be tit-for-tat, and after a while I stopped laughing. In the end I had to shut him down a couple of times with a humourless and stern response, and he stopped targeting me. It would have worked out better for our friendship, I'm sure, if I had been clever enough to riposte with a cleverer barb of my own, but what can I tell you; I have a terrible esprit d'escalier - just look in my profile. I also tend to organize my thoughts better in print than in person, which has been an egregious disadvantage at times...I digress.

The above links were the posts I was waiting for, the ones that describe his coworkers and the situation at work.
I'm a bit disappointed that there are no juicy descriptions of my personality, appearance or teaching performance. I would have expected something more about myself and Ally, especially after the way I moved out of her place. Think: screaming, yelling, profanities, two suitcases hastily packed while she bangs on the door that I locked through an ungraceful act of force. It's as close as I hope I ever get to domestic violence. After that I was positively the bad ex.

Yet, out of everyone, I got away unscathed. Is it because I am so adept at flying under the radar? Is he self-censoring out of fear of e-reprisals? I don't think he knows that I know the Savage corp. and its wicked ways. I would like to post some comments but daren't. I can't risk having this blog discovered by anyone from Y_____ hagwon lest I am blackballed, ousted or finked on. I can probably come out of the closet in six months since I won't be renewing with this outfit.

Grant from the other hagwon has agreed to take me on as his full-time foreigner when my contract ends. I'm counting the days, especially after my review today. I was basically told that I teach at the same level as a beginner, that I'm boring, my voice is too quiet and I don't use the board enough. That may all be true, (especially the voice part, and I'm working on it) and I do want to become a better teacher, but frankly, after giving this company so much of my free time, and gracefully dealing with so much inter-cultural, international bullshit, I'm choosing to stand unrepentant about my teaching performance. I may have come in late several times but I've never missed a day of work, or a single class, and that can't be said of some of my compatriots. I didn't receive any similar criticism at D____ campus; hellz, even Brett let me off easy. I ALSO got very good feedback from the adults that I taught at hagwon deux. Sorry Lynn, either fire me, or fuck right off.

The class in question - a problem class that was in fact, so bad that the previous teacher left the school after only two months, behaved very differently with a counsellor watching them. They became sullen and they clammed up. This took me by surprise, and I couldn't get any kind of a discussion or 'groove' going. I'm used to wasting time getting the class back on track, quelling the minor rebellions and squashing the deluge of irritating korean speakers, so my time management was thrown off as well. I had to pad the homework review and since I was getting nothing interesting from the reading I cut that part short. The school director was pretty harsh in her criticism, I felt, and I briefly considered just walking away. It would be easy to find a job with half the responsibilities and hours of unpaid time. That, however, would be giving up and I don't do that anymore!

Today's picture is from the 'Megabox' movie theatre in Coex mall, a vast warren of upscale shopping debauchery, a televised video game tournament hall (oh baby!) and other modern wonders that may be shown here in future installments. It is a movie display (the Koreans love their schlock horror - espcially in the summer) and you can see where the extra money from raised ticket prices is going. I gots to get me into the display design industry! I took this photo while I was entertaining my replacement at hagwon deux. Call him "Shaba Shaba". We went to go see the last Star Wars film, but it was hopelessly lined-up. Shaba seems like a decent chap, although weird in ways that I'm not familiar with. He ruthlessly negotiated the contract with Grant, awkward for me, but I guess you get what you ask for in this life. You go, my semi-semitic weiguk brother!

Food Safety Rangers

2005-06-12T17:20:00.000+09:00

One of the more amusing programs on Korean non-cable TV is ' Food Safety Rangers'. A group of health inspectors are pursued by a cameraman who then records all the atrocities that occur in University kitchens as well as mom-and-pop galbi joints. What makes it particularly compelling is the background commentary, although I can't follow it at all. The actor providing the voice-over gets progressively more excited as the Rangers team busts violators and eventually, at the climax of a scene; let's say a grill with whole pieces of leftover pork on it; his yammering voice cracks in excitement in a pitch suitable for world cup soccer goals.

I don't really think about how safe it is to eat here, but I assume there must be dirty kitchens in Canada also. What we don't have is a group of dedicated televised culinary gumshoes who uncover the grime and mold and spoiled produce that passes muster in Wendy's or Albert's.

So I finally have internet.
I have so much to write but it's all jumbled up in a fuzzy chronology. I think I will unleash the torrent in easily digestible paragraphs, limiting myself to one topic and one mixed metaphor per post.

Today's picture is a typical scene of the skyline in Seoul. They just can't build fast enough. I need more cranes! MORE CRANES!!!

Teaching Grandmastery

2005-05-27T17:55:00.000+09:00

I don't pretend to have all the answers but I'll tell you one thing: Mr. Monkey and the Hut is the most sordid rogue in the history of English learning literature. Not since the saucy and let's be honest shall we, flouncy, Jane of Dick and Jane has any ambassador to the ESL world been so justifiably repudiated.

Working for the weekend

2005-05-16T02:40:00.000+09:00

I gotta make this quick because my computer will shut itself off in like, 2 minutes.

You might be interested in the part of the May edition of the school newsletter I wrote that I CUT OUT of the final edition. Canadiana!

Consider the expression ‘keep your stick on the ice’. Mostly unknown outside Canada, this turn of phrase gained widespread Canadian popularity from the TV show ‘Red Green’. In ice hockey a good tactic for most players is to place the blade of a hockey stick firmly against the ice surface to prevent any stray pass or puck deflection from going past. Although it is not a natural posture, keeping one’s stick on the ice shows alertness and is a practice of good form. Red Green, the eponymous host of his own TV show gives this piece of advice at the end of every episode. “Good night, and keep your stick on the ice.” While this would confuse most foreigners, even English speaking ones, Canadians understand that Red is wishing for them to practice good strategy in their daily lives. A basic knowledge of English, and a thorough knowledge of Canadian culture makes this colloquialism a sure-fire way for any English student to bring a smile to their Canadian overseers.

Photo-blog!

2005-05-15T16:41:00.000+09:00

My little chronicle has become even more compelling with the addition of : electronic image plates, or as I like to call them, "pictures". (note the use of abundant and correct punctuation - thank you for the punctuation book grandparents!)

Here is the story about the first set of photos:

I was invited by one of my students to attend the wedding of their son. Actually, they it was another classmate who invited me, which I thought was a bit unusual - not sure if it was just the way they planned it, or if it is kosher to invite other people to a Korean wedding. I suspect the latter.

The day of the event I went to the electronics market to pick up some STUFF including a camera so that I could make a post such as this one. By the time I had finished haggling with the camera guy it was already too late for me to bring my things home. I had to grab a cab straight to the wedding hall. Naturally, I was late. (he has never been on time for a wedding. ever. -ed) Since Korean wedding ceremonies are only about 15 minutes, I was only able to see the walk back down the aisle, and the group photos.

There was no pause between the end of this ceremony and the next wedding party entering the hall, so the ushers (white hats) were not shy about evicting stragglers. Pack em in, get em out - very commercial, although I noticed they spoke in the very polite high-form even to me.

After that we were invited to have dinner downstairs at a banquet that must have had almost 400 guests. I asked if all these people were for the wedding we saw, and I was told yes, but it seems hard to believe. We had bulgogi and dok (rice cakes) and a few other Korean dishes. A lot of westerners make their blogs almost exclusively about Korean food, so I will only treat the subject peripherally. If you want more information on this (interesting) subject you can find out everything on the internet.

During dinner a student grabbed my hand and took me upstairs to see 'pebek' the traditional Korean part of the wedding ceremony. This is usually for only for family but, being a foreigner, I was given a front row seat. In fact, I was invited to take off my shoes and stand on the platform to take my photos. I don't know if the halmonis (grandmas) were too keen on this but, as a foreigner, I can do anything! hahaha

The couple are now wearing elaborate wedding hanbok (traditional Korean clothing, seen on the street about as often as a kilt in Scotland, I would guess) and they bow to their elders a few times and then they are presented with envelopes of money. Good deal. (This reminds me that the following week I was guilted into giving the family some money by Bruce - thanks a lot Bruce.) Then the couple pour cups of traditional booze for everyone. At one point the edge of the bride's gown is held out and chestnuts are thrown on the fabric with much smiling by everyone. I asked what this means - every chestnut represents a prospective child, the more chestnuts the bigger the family that is hoped for, preferably all male children, of course, and this is especially important for the first child.

There is no reception or speeches so that was it - a cultural adventure par excellence and I would recommend the Canon powershot A95 to anyone.

Xmas in April

2005-04-23T23:35:00.000+09:00

After weeks of research I am going to Yongsan tomorrow morning to pick up a laptop and a digital camera. (and an Xbox) -ed
I can barely contain my excitement - after proving that four months of computer abstinence drastically improved my life and lifestyle, I am once again ready to poison the future with a virtual tech cokefest. Laissez les bons temps gaspiller!
The good news is that this blog's quality of writing (in terms of comprehensibility) should improve since I won't have to compose every fortnight's thoughts into a five minute varorium.

A most enjoyable email correspondence continues with Mlle Burnt Toast (A) over the last few days and she stayed true to her unselfish roots by sending a superb care package to the school. It included a variety of literary works pertinent to our age and culture - Harper's, the Weekly World News, Xclaim Music review and the like. There was also a new sony discman (!) that works wonderfully and came with a complement of home-burnt NEW music! Let me say - well done Mlle A! You know that musical nostalgia is a tempting but dangerous stagnation - the only good music is made by kids.

The one drawback to my new toy is that it came with insane cybernetic earplugs that are supposed to fit snugly around the contours of one's ears to provide an undisturbed concert even while, say, jogging or performing boudoir acrobatics. However my elfin features present such an absurd ergonomic challenge to any equipment manufacturer that I almost prefer unadorned earbuds. The clips pinch where they should not, and they flex away from my gigantic nordic melon at times so that the only way to hear the music is to crank it, which I should be doing anyway I suppose.

I have listened to the Killers - Hot Fuss on repeat for a week, and I have to say this new album is pretty good, yet it is paradoxically imitative of old, 80s and 90s britpop. There is wayyy too much ripping-off of the Strokes, but if you like the Strokes, and who doesn't, then this is really an enjoyable companion piece, and only an annoyingly rabid fan would chafe at having twice as much of one type of music making the rounds. As Johnny Loftus describes it -"[this is] lifestyle music for sheltered bloggers and female professionals who still wear cool hairstyles." I guess that would describe me to a Long Island Iced 'T'.

This weekend I went to visit a colleague, Stevie Woods (Tiger) at Soon Cheon Hyang hospital. He is deathly ill with pneumonia and has not told his family (upright southern black baptists) for fear of worrying them something fierce. He is noble if pious, and sings a good Brian McKnight at the noraebang, so I brought him a copy of Innvervisions and loaned him the Calcan 0.9 (the Discman - Ange - you know I only just now got the joke there :p) until he gets better. I think it is somehow so cosmically, karmically perfect that the good influences of GM, A and my own maudlin sentimentality will (hopefully) bring a smile to someone they don't know. So, the music reviews will be delayed for a while - but for a good cause.

Later that night

2005-04-05T05:01:00.000+09:00

I wouldn't get used to this torrid posting pace, but I'm at the PC bang tonight because I went out for galbi and drinks with some colleagues, and I agreed to have a drink with Slim Delacroix (SD) mostly because he is funny as hell and cool, and he usually doesn't let me hang out with him. We were having a gay old time (in the archaic sense of the word) talking about art and travelling and girls when my cell phone buzzed. It was long distance. It was a guy speaking perfect English and asking for me by both names. I was terrified. Have they found me?? I stammered "wrong number" and hung up.

SD sprung for most of the bill, which shocked me since I thought he was a chiseller, and wouldn't take any money despite my treble protest. I put my things in the apt. and immediately hoofed it over here where I've been researching the phone number, writing this monstrosity and waiting for Gandhi McRae (GM) to write back. It was either him or my parents who gave out the number, and I need to nip this in the bud if it's nipping that's needed. By aye!

PS - I am typing this at twenty after 5 in the morning behind 3 immaculately coiffed young women playing KartRider for their kicks after boozing on a Saturday night. Think about that. Korean lessons time!

Whinging Already

2005-04-05T04:15:00.000+09:00

Today was starting off so well. I worked out in the morning and I was on time for the K-grans class but then I took the wrong train leaving Soehyeon station. That is the first time I've ever done that leaving Dead Language, the illicit hogwon #2 (heretofore known as DL). It always seemed to work out that when I'm leaving DL I'm heading in the right direction to catch the train going back to Daechi (where I live) when I go down a particular staircase. I'm still mystified how I got reversed- let me tell you how it happened - you are Mr. Magoo made flesh! -ed) By the time I noticed my error (why are we above ground?!?) I was at the end of the line, and had to wait for the train to reverse, and to really rub it in, I got stuck between some sort of postal worker brigade (or ?) that insisted on dominating the entire subway car; I presume for the sake of worker solidarity. They grinned pleasantly in totalitarian coordination as they pushed me to the edge, and eventually off, the seats. I called Polish Annie McBeal (PA) to punch me in. She agreed to do it, surprisingly, but naturally, girls are useless at cloak and dagger type stuff like that.

So I was twenty minutes late for school. When I got outside I figured I was already beyond salvation, and either PA had succeeded in her mission or I would be just as hung for 20 minutes as 30, so I stopped at the street vendor to get lunch. The closest guy was closed. I guess he was on a lunch break, at lunch time, the busiest time of his street vending day, which seems like the worst sort of mismanagement, in retrospect.

The next guy hadn't yet got his chicken skewers going, so the only thing left was some sort of deep fried tempura-like fare. I'd always avoided this stuff, since it seems like the demesne of emaciated schoolchildren, and I also had no idea what was in it. Korea adventure time! I bought six of each kind, for 2k and walked up the eight floors of stairs so that I could hang my coat on the doorknob, put my bag on the floor, and my running shoes behind that. Walking nonchalantly through the side entrance I presented the perfect picture of a worker who had simply escaped the notice of the staff at the front desk.

I walked confidently up to PA and asked if she had done me the favour. Of course not.

I didn't even bother to punch in at this point.
What incriminates more - a blank spot on your record or a black mark? Future essay topic!

PA then began to tell me there had been a surprise meeting to talk about some insignificant piece of administravia and the Head Honcho (HH) and the entire counter staff had been there to witness (or rather not) my absence. Unbelievable! I have been late 3 times since I started in January (you know that's miraculous for me) and all 3 of those times coincided with HH's visits. What are the odds? All of these tardies are the result of subway inexperience, not slacking. In fact, they are actually the result of working too much.

Want to know what was in the tempura? Rice and nothing. The shrimp-shaped pockets are actually empty, and the black tubes are filled with plain rice. I rarely do this, but I threw the whole thing out. I had to slink back to the audience of my pathetic not-actually-on-time-pantomime and use the phone (restaurants don't usually deliver to cells) to order a real lunch (which I can almost do in Korean by myself now).

Then I had to go back and sneak my coat, bag and shoes into my classroom.

PA came to my class and broke down and cried about how she doesn't know why she's here, she's isolated, she can't trust me or anyone, etc. This is the 3rd time we've talked about this. I feel bad for her, but I can't fix it, and maybe she is right to move to another campus. As long as she is here though, I think we can both be supportive, caring (careful) and generally make the best out of a bad decision. If I had full time work in Bundang I guess I would go first. Anyway, I just hate being the worst employee, and feeling persecuted and undesirable. bleah!

I hope you're getting a wicked tan sports fans.

My blog

2005-04-03T13:07:00.000+09:00

Like it's audience, this blog will have to grow from humble beginnings.

Like Rome, until one day it is overwhelmed by it's own greatness.

I might put some pictures of things I see in Seoul when I get a camera. I might also write my first novel - "Bannerman" in this space.

Enjoy, Sybarites!