Korean Holidays

Children's day was every bit of craziness I had imagined. (It has taken me weeks to get over the shock to write this post....okay, I was just lazy. But the first story is much better, so I am sticking to that!) I walked around the streets of a nearby neighborhood with some friends and we found a Children's day festival. The festival had food, rides, dance performances, and many, many people. It was like a mosh pit at a concert at the Ranch Bowl, but filled with kids wearing nametags and parents trying not to lose said kids. I've included one picture to give you an idea, but it doesn't quite capture the number of people present. Plus, there is an old man in the front. Just ignore him.

The highlight was running into a few of my students, who looked at me in such a way as to indicate that they had no idea that I had a life outside of school. The fact that I was with other Americans really made their heads spin. Most of them gave me a quick hello and goodbye and ran off to continue to enjoy their days. One of them bought me a Fanta. He was particularly brave.

Since Children's day, we have also celebrated Parents' day and Teacher's day. Guess which one was my favorite?

Children's Day

Although many of you think of May 5th as Cinco de Mayo, for the children of Korea, this day is something much greater: Children's Day.

What is Children's Day? I'm not quite sure yet, as tomorrow will be my first experience of the holiday. However, it seems like it is a day when all Korean children are spoiled rotten. Is anyone really surprised? I mean, look at Ji-Bin and Eun-Bin's faces above. Could you say no? I know I sure couldn't. What's that, Ji-Bin? You want my most prized possessions? Well, it is Children's day...so sure. Take it and run, kid.

They don't go to school; they are showered with presents; their parents take the day off so they can celebrate by going to amusement parks and other places of childhood dreams; they've been counting the days for months.

I'm prepared for complete insanity. I have the day off, since the children are freed from school, and I almost want to wander around just to see if it is as crazy as I have imagined. I'm picturing kids running and screaming through the streets, covered in cotton candy remnants and wild-eyed from the pounds of sugar they have consumed. I'm visualizing the parks becoming a mob of kids fighting over single swings as their parents try to seperate them out. I'm seeing a rise in sales of Nintendo products at Lotte Mart. I'm prepared for the worst.

A few friends and I are going to brave the storm and go to lunch. If I make it back in one piece, I'll give you all a full report. If not, at least I will go down surrounded by giant clouds of joy.

Clearasil should never give one a false sense of security

Although I wash, exfoiliate, Clearasil, and moisturize my face twice a day (someone's gotta take care of this money maker!) I still get zits. I once thought my zitty times were over, but alas. And these are not the small, easy to cover type zits--I'm talking about the huge, can't look away even if one tried type zits. Not very attractive, but I am usually able to ignore them. After all, I know I'm more than a blemish.

Until last week.

The story: I was hit with two huge zits at once. One was on my forehead and the other one was on my cheek. They were red, swollen, and disgusting. They actually hurt. These things were intense.

I forgot about these two beauties until I got to school. Over the course of one day, I had no less than twenty students staring at the blemishes, four students gasping at the sheer magnitude of the zits, and three brave students ask me, "Ms. Jackie! What happened to your face?" Thanks, kids. I'm so glad I'm teaching you enough English for you to manage to ask me embarrasing questions. For the younger students, I told them I "hurt" my face. I didn't want to go into a vocabulary lesson regarding clogged pores, and I figured a tinge of shame might serve them right. (What's that, Jasmine? You want to know what happened to my face? Well its a horrible story and now I'm injured. Are you glad you asked? Huh? Are you???) For the older kids, I told them they were pimples. I even translated "pimple" into Korean so they could know exactly what I was talking about. After all, I'm supposed to be teaching them so I might as well turn my face into a lesson plan.

Lady Gaga

Lady Gaga must have read my thesis.

Tonight, that is the only explanation that I can reach after watching her video for the second time. (http://www.ladygaga.com/telephone/)

I must admit, I'm intrigued. How did this pop goddess manage to work a women's prison in with an infectious dance beat? Perhaps this song is what I was missing from my thesis of last year.

If you haven't seen this video, then you have to go look it up. Why? Because it will make your brain spin. Lady Gaga is either crazy, a genius, or both. I'm not always on board with the latest pop crazes (I never gave in to the NSync craze of yesteryear and I haven't heard anything on the radio for over six months), but this one caught me. Lady Gaga is already quite a character and now that she's teamed up with Beyonce, I think they might be planning on taking over the world. I'm not so sure I would mind that. Dance breaks for everbody!

One of the parts of the video that really stuck out to me was the fact that Lady Gaga utilized the classic "my hand is my phone" schtick and made into a hip new dance fad. I only use the thumb-pinkie hand phone when I'm making fun of Jersey Shore, but now that it's cool, I'll be motioning for people to "call me" all the time.

Really I only write this because I can't get over it. Really. I mean, the message is so relatable. There's nothing I hate more than when I'm trying to work out my emotions on a dance floor and my phone keeps vibrating. I'm like, geez, what is this, Grand central station? Stop telephoning me. I'm trying to dance. Who hasn't been there? Thank you, Lady Gaga, for finally putting words to this experience.

Busan

I have experienced culture shock many times since I've been here in Korea, but last weekend was one of the most mind-numbing of all. Chong-Suk, Chin-Hwa's mom, came to visit. On one weekend, she, her sister, her brother, and I drove five hours to Busan, which is a city on the coast of Korea. We would be meeting family. Chin-Hwa couldn't come because he was away at training. I was flying solo.

I was immersed into Korea in every sense of the word. Chong-Suk and I met thirty of her family members and the only ones who let on that they spoke English were Chong-Suk and a few kids who were too busy staring at me to squeak out a few syllables. We ate at a traditional Korean restaurant where I flaunted my chopsticks skills (see picture--Duck in squash=delicious!) and then drove around the city. The next morning, we visited a few sites in Busan, icluding a Buddhist temple that was more than 1000 years old.

Although I enjoyed much of my time in Busan, I spent the weekend in near silence. This was a strange sensation, but one to which I've become quite accustomed. I'm a chatter by nature, but this was a time when that was impossible. I found myself rlying upon body language and smiles. I also relied upon my iTouch and its many games.

I remember when Chin-Hwa met my family for the first time. I was so nervous for him and thought he might struggle. After my times here, however, he owes me a few good hours of attempts at conversation with family members!

Here is a picture of the family dinner:

Korean Hotel

Well, Chin-Hwa and I stayed in our first Korean hotel. The reason we had to leave home was that Chong-Suk, Chin-Hwa's mom, was in town and we had to travel 5 hours south to her parents' grave sites. (which is a normal Korean tradition--if you are back in Korea, you are supposed to go see the graves.)

Anyhoo, the hotel was unlike American hotels. For one, the building had a large Statue of Liberty affixed to the top. (I regret that I was unable to snap a photo of this.) It was as cheesy as you can imagine--trust me. The hotel room was, well, colorful and seedy, all at once. It was a strange mixture of luxurious and disgusting. Luxury items included a heated toilet seat and bed. Even more importantly, the room had its own karaoke system. We could not figure out how to work it properly, but we both sang into the mic just for kicks.

The disgusting part for me was the fact that all of the lotions, shampoos, conditioners, and even toothpastes were in economy-sized containers and had already been opened and used by other customers. They were veritable germ factories. Therefore, I avoided those products like the plague.

Look through the photos to get a better picture of the place:

Kids Cafe

*I didn't take any pictures at the kids cafe because it was crazy. I put up this pajama party picture as a contrast. We made them fake sleep. Don't they look quiet and innocent? Now think of the opposite. That's how they were at the kids cafe.*


Imagine having forty toddler to school age children and taking them to a glorified McDonald's indoor play area. Then, throw in good food, coffee, and beer. What you get is the Little Prince Kids Cafe.





I had the joy of experiencing this cafe on Friday, when my boss and I took 30 students there for a Flea Market party. The kids went crazy. They screamed as they went into the ball pit. They screamed as they went on the merry-go-round. They screamed as they purchased sugary drinks from the counter. And, they screamed as they pounded their candy. It was deafening and exhilarating all at once. If I had been 8 years old, I would be in little Jackie heaven. But as a 26 year old Jackie, I was strengthened in my resolve to wait a few more years before having a bundle of joy myself.





The best part of it all was imagining a group of mothers taking their kids to this cafe and letting the happy Little Prince workers watch their kids as they took in a few brews. (It reminded me of our parents poker games of yesteryear.) If I were a mother, I would relish in the chance to sit and chat while the kids went haywire. Nickie and I could catch up and drink while the kids bond and drool and consume mass quantities of sugar. Sounds like a plan!