A pitiful venture into the Korean language

I have had countless embarrassing moments while here in Korea, ranging from getting lost in a mall to accidentally picking up some chicken feet at a buffet, but this story is one of the worst. You may wonder why I have waited so long to share it, and my only answer is that I was filled with shame. Until now. Now, I can laugh at it. Click on this highly flattering picture below to watch a video of me telling the story. You have to click on it twice:

2010-01-28

Kids are like adults

The seven and eight year old kids of Korea amaze me. Yesterday, I walked one of my students out to the bus stop so she could ride home. She knew which bus to take, what stop to get off at, and how to pay the fare. She was confident and made it on the correct bus successfully.

Let me contrast this with my eight year old self. When I was little, I had no idea where I lived. I would get lost on long walks. Whenever Mom or Dad was driving, I was in the backseat reading a book (usually Baby Sitters Club. Those were real page turners). I didn't know what Dodge street was, and whenever I was asked to give directions, I just told them to call Mom or Dad. If someone had told me to try to take a bus home, I would have ended up in Council Bluffs, Iowa, a fate I do not wish upon anyone, least of all my younger, confused self.

Also, almost all of my students have a cell phone. The only person who calls them is their mom, but still. I got my first cell phone when I was 16. Nickie and I had to share it and it didn't even have caller id. The main person who called us was Mom, so in that way, we weren't all that different from my students...

These kids are so hardworking! They have such nimble, small hands! They learn so quickly! No wonder child labor is such a difficult concept to shake. I'm not interviewing for the new Nike PR spot (Child Labor! Discipline! Strength! All before the age of 10!) I'm just forever amazed at the ingenuity of children around me.

I'm a food addict in my dreams

Although I have acquired a strong fondness for Korean food, I really miss some of the options I had back in Omaha and California. I would do almost anything for some Greek food, (hummus! Please!) and I can't even mention LaCasa without tears coming to my eyes. I am thanking my lucky stars that we managed to find a fabulous Indian restaurant, and Korea is not without pizza restaurants, but certain cravings just can't be stopped.

And then I had a crazy dream.

I dreamt I was in a caravan of cars full of people, none of whom I knew except Nickie. Nickie was driving, but I knew all of the directions. (that would never, ever happen in real life. Really. I get lost in the hallway right outside of my apartment door) We were in a large red suburban. The car was full. (which reminded me of our old family road trips in the Toyota sedan, where David would poke me repeatedly while being very obvious that he was treating Nickie like gold) I looked out of the right-hand window to see a giant corn cob shaped sign proclaiming "RUNZA." I asked Nickie to stop so we could get some wonderful, dough-covered, onion-filled, German-inspired treats. She refused, and we kept driving. I woke up in a cold sweat immediately following her denial.

What a cruel sister.

What a cruel subconscious. This dream was vivid. And my bitterness was palpable.

Nothing can substitute for a Runza.

So now I play the waiting game.

I didn't even realize I loved Runza that much. And now it's all I can think about. Great.

*Editor's note: For all of you who are not familiar with Runza, I will not go into an explanation. Why? It's too painful. Plus, if you live outside of the Midwest or if you are a vegetarian, you can't have it either. Ignorance is bliss. Trust me.

Snow!

Well, we've finally had our blizzard.

Whenever I would ask someone about Korean winters, (which was frequent, I assure you. I had to know what I'm dealing with here. No one warned me about Californian winters, and I lived in agony.) everyone talked about how cold it would get. No one mentioned any snow. In fact, they said it probably wouldn't snow. And I trusted them.

And now Korea's been hit by the biggest blizzard in almost a century. It all started on Monday morning. The snow fell in huge snowflakes. It was wet, fluffy, and cold, like most snows. (You never know what to expect in a foreign land! Snow could be backwards here, you know, like lava or something. Use your imagination.) When I left the apartment to go to work, there were almost no cars on the road. This is unheard of. It was almost eerie, to walk outside and not have to wait for the walk signal and then have to look again because most cars ignore the walk signal. There were no plows. No salt trucks. Nothing. The only group of people I saw were a bunch of old women who were shoveling the walkways of the apartment.

I walked to the subway station because I knew that if nothing else, it would still be in operation. The subway station was packed, and the train was even fuller. I had the same idea as every other person who had to work.

Here are some pictures of the snow, from one weather-obsessed Midwesterner to another:



If you click on the slide show, it will bring you to my photo website where you can leave comments and see bigger pictures! Who could resist?

High School

I used to think high school was really, really hard. My Freshman year, Mrs. Coyle told us we had to write a five paragraph essay, I thought, "Oh, what agony! Who could ever write a paper that length?" I moaned; I kicked my feet; I complained constantly; I completed it. Looking back, I think this experience was why I later had to write multiple 20 page papers and an eventual thesis (which, I might add, can be checked out of the Graduate Theological Union's library for no cost for all of you people who are salivating over a chance to adore my writing for 80 and some odd pages...the line forms behind...well, me. Oh, you've read it? Wow! Wasn't it great?)

My point here is not to brag about my accomplishments, (but isn't it funny how I still managed to sneak them in there? That's a little trick I've picked up.) but to compare my high school experience with those I have noticed here in Korea.

High school is intense. Nothing like High School Musical, which is surprising seeing as HSM is so similar to U.S. high schools... Korean high school students go to school early in the morning, and they stay until 9 or 10 p.m. They go to school two Saturdays of every month. Many of them study English, Japanese, and Chinese. Also, can you imagine studying Korean history?! I think U.S. history is hard enough, and that's only a few centuries! Korean history goes way back. Imagine learning about a few thousand years of history. And then retaining it.

In their senior year, all high school students have to take a college entrance exam that is epic in every sense of the word. They study for months. Their score decides where they can go to college, which then influences where they can get a job. Wow. That's a lot of pressure.

So whenever your loved ones complain about how much homework they have, tell them the story of the Korean teenagers who have to dedicate their lives to school. I like to bring it up to David every time we talk. I figure it helps make him culturally aware, while also sending a subtle and silent clue that he should stop complaining. (He never reads this blog so I think I can be frank. But now Mom's going to show it to him. Shoot.)

Birthday cake

I told Chin-Hwa all I wanted for my birthday was a birthday cake. I said not to bother with silly Christmas gifts--birthday. Focus on the birthday.

I then gave him a recipe that was "easy" because it started with a cake mix. Then I told him he had to make four layers, put frosting between each layer, and top it with a chocolate "ganache." He was intimidated at first, but we ended up with a lovely result. The cake was rich, creamy, and delicious. Chin-Hwa even put birthday candles on top. He tried to make a 2 and a 6, but its up for interpretation...

It is hard to be away for Christmas, but I guess this will be my year to see if they celebrate Christmas outside of Omaha. At least I know I will be well fed!

When I get emotional about being away, there is one YouTube video that can cheer me up:

INSTANT CHRISTMAS CHEER

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And, HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICKIE!

Aging

The other day I told Chin-Hwa that I'd been sick with a cough for over a week. He told me that sicknesses will stick around longer now that I'm "getting old."

............................
Wait. I'm old now? What? I'm the picture of youth! I still wear jeans to work occasionally! I'm still trying to figure out how to shave my legs! I use Facebook. I can write an email and even send it successfully. I don't think I'm old; I'm just tall for my age.

But Chin-Hwa is not alone in his statement. Kids at work love to guess my age. Their favorite little game is to guess I'm a million just to see my reaction. After I congratulate them for knowing a number that is so huge ("Wow! You know the word for million!") I make a disapproving face. They love it and giggle every time. The sad thing is that when I tell them how old I really am, they seem to gasp in fright. "I've never met someone so old, Miss Jackie! My mom is younger than you!" Thanks, kids. Thanks.

I have been forgetful lately...perhaps it is early onset age-related brain farts! And it does take me a long time to get started in the morning without my coffee...my parents and my aunts and uncles are this way. (Anyone who's been at Ponca in the mornings could tell you this.) Maybe my love of High School Musical isn't enough to cut it. Maybe I'm a fogey. I didn't even try to dress up for Halloween this year. And I have been known to make disparaging remarks regarding "teenage fashions." I don't own Ugz and I'm not even sure how to spell the word! No young'un could get away with such things. The good news here is that I can start keeping a stash of hard candies in my bag and hand them to kids as I see fit. And I can talk about my old uphill walks to school. This might not be so bad.

I guess I'd better go tell Nickie she's getting old, too. Twins for life.