ddong chim

It's hard to believe that one year has already passed. I guess every year that goes by is like that...and this is no exception. I haven't posted anything in quite a while. I suppose part of the excuse is that the novelty of living in a new place has kind of worn off. It sounds strange to say...but I guess it's normal.

The funny thing is, though, that even after being here for a year, I know I've only scratched the surface of understanding Koreans and Korean culture. There are a million and one things I have yet to learn...so the ebbing sense of novelty is a poor excuse for closing my eyes to the strangeness/different-ness that really is still all around me.

I learned about 똥침 (ddong chim) pretty soon after getting here. This phenomenon is unique to Korean elementary and middle school boys and the fact that it hasn't spread beyond that demographic is probably a good thing. Literally, "ddong chim" means "poop needle," and consists of sneaking up behind a friend and poking him in the you know what with your finger. I guess if you want to surprise someone but are short on prep time, this one's a winner.

If you want to go the literal translation route, "poop needle" will do fine. I, along with my class of ...surprise...all elementary boys, came up with the moniker "poo poke." It's got a nice ring to it, I think.

And as you can see, "poo pokes" can happen anywhere. It happened to me early on, but after pinning that kid to the chalkboard and yelling at him, I've been ddong chim free. But if you're a Korean kid trying to fend off your friends/assailants, you may not be quite as fortunate.

Anyway, so even though I really don't understand "ddong chim" and many other things that go on here, my year in Korea has been endearing enough for me to sign up for round two in August. And thankfully this next time around, I'll know at least enough Korean so I don't have to resort to shoving kids into chalkboards when they try to surprise me.

Coca Cola Mashita

Usually when there's a dispute about who gets to go first, a quick round of Rock Paper Scissors will settle it. Rock Paper Scissors is practically the national pastime. I think I play it at least five times a day here. But every now and then it gets shoved aside, and the Korean version of Eenie Meenie Miney Mo takes its place.

It's fun to say. If you memorize it, I'll give you a high five next time I see you. I'm pretty good at high fives now too.

The Body of Christ and Paper Airplanes

I think Korea can be a lonely place for many foreigners. I guess anywhere can be lonely for anybody, really. Maybe that's one reason the Church is so important. We weren't meant to do life on our own. And for introverts like me, that's something I need to be reminded of more often than not.

ICC (International Community Church) has become my church home in Korea. Any and all of my meaningful relationships are in and because of this group of believers. In many ways, ICC is different from my church back in CA. But in other respects it's the same; It's a quirky group of people trying to love God and love others.

I've met some great people at church who love others well. Among them, are my friends Scott and Ashley. Back in October, they invited a bunch of people over to their place for the Busan Fireworks Festival. The fireworks were OK. I think some of us had more fun throwing paper airplanes off the 10th story balcony. My buddy Scott fashioned the legendary "Dallas Hammer" whose epic flight can be witnessed in this video.

I'm prone to forget God's goodness, and complain about all the things I don't have, but wish I did. But every now and then, I think He scrapes some scales from my eyes and reminds me of his goodness again. He is good for sending his Son. He is good for sending the Holy Spirit. He is good for giving us the Church. And he is good for giving me friends like Scott and Ashley, who's apartment just happens to be a pristine paper airplane launching zone.

오바이트

I took a quick trip down to the corner store with some students before class. On the way, we saw a particularly gross pile of vomit on the ground. So when we got back to class, I decided to tweak the lesson plan a bit.

Handsome guy. Thanks, you too.

Whether or not I’m a good looking guy is very debatable. But every now and then I get complements on my looks from complete strangers. I’ll just be walking down the street and someone will greet me with, “Oh…handsome guy!,” and then walk off. If I didn’t know better, I might try riding the wave of my own inflated ego for a while. But early on, I discovered that the “handsome guy” complement is one nearly any white guy in Korea can expect to get on a regular basis. Strange but true. Back in the states I’d be little weirded out if random guys on the street came up and said that to me, but here it’s becoming commonplace. Maybe it’s evidence of a massive practical joke that some designer of public school English curriculum decided to play on the Korean populace. “Oh, yeah…it’s REALLY common for American guys to say that to strangers. Let’s put it in ALL the books from elementary up through high school. (He he he).” Then again, maybe it’s just part of the broader cultural phenomenon of giving frank commentary on other people’s appearances. Unfortunately, the commentary isn’t all bright and sunshiny. The day after I got a haircut, my students told me that I looked like a monkey…or a big baby…with a big nose. So much for my ego THAT day.

All this to say, I’m still getting used to the barrage of blunt opinions that are flung my way fairly often. And for a while I didn’t really know how to handle the “handsome guy” complement. But then I figured I’d just say, “Thanks, you too.” And when I went out for dinner with some co-workers, I had my chance.

The owner of the restaurant was a bit tipsy and in true Korean fashion, he told me I looked handsome. So I tried to return the complement. Apparently, I didn’t use the correct honorific word for “you,” and everyone got a kick out of it. Then he wanted me to swear off any other type of alcohol from now on, and only drink macoli (Korean rice wine). And then I found out that the words “Thanks, you too” are magic…well, kind of…at least when you say them to a tipsy Korean guy who’s feeling generous.

Korean Animals

After hearing the story of the little green frog, I decided to learn the different sounds that animals make. In English a dog goes, "woof woof" or "bow wow," but in Korean, a dog goes, "멍멍" or "왈왈." ("meong meong" or "wal wal").

Check out the video to see what else Korean animals say. My favorite is still the frog.

The Green Frog

Korean kids can get really stressed out. They wake up, go to school, run home for lunch, then rush off to their respective academies where they study for the rest of the day. Often, they don't get home until 9 or 10pm. And these are elementary students. Sometimes I think the healthiest thing for these kids to do would be to ditch their after school academies, go outside, and throw rocks at things. And yet, ironically, this give-yourself-gray-hair-by-age-thirteen academic system is the reason I'm employed.

All that to say, sometimes I feel sorry for my students. So every now and then, if they're stressed out from upcoming exams, or the book we're using is really boring, I'll drop the scheduled plan and do something completely different. Over the past couple weeks, I've been asking my students to tell me Korean folk tales. It's a blast. Even if it's a pretty low level English class, there are usually enough kids shouting out details so that I get the gist of the story.

One folk tale that every kid knows is the story of Ch’ong Kaeguri. You can read it below to find out why frogs croak when it rains. You can also soak up the not-so-subtle Confucian value of obey-your-elders-or-else.

The Green Frog
[Ch’ong Kaeguri]

A Korean Folktale

retold by Heinz Insu Fenkl

Long ago, the green frog lived with his widowed mother in a small pond. The green frog never listened to his mother, and when she told him to do something, he always did the opposite. If his mother told him to play in the hills, he went to the river. If she told him to go up, he went down. If she told him left, he went right. If she told him this, he did that.

The mother frog worried about what she would do with her son, he caused her so much distress and embarrassment. "Why can’t he be like other frogs?" she said to herself. "Why can’t he respect his elders and do what he’s told?" She worried about what would happen to him when she was gone. She knew she would have to do something to break his bad habits.

Day after day, week after week, the mother frog scolded the green frog and tried to teach him the proper way to behave, but he continued to ignore her and did just as he wished. The mother frog was growing old, and she worried so much that eventually she became sick. But even then the green frog did not change his ways.

Finally, when the mother frog knew she was going to die, she called her son to her side. She wanted a proper burial on the mountain, and since she knew that the green frog would do the opposite of what she told him, she chose her words carefully. "I don’t have much longer to live," she said. "When I die, do not to bury me on the mountainside. You must bury me on the bank of the river."

The green frog looked at her forlornly with his head bowed.

"Promise me," said the mother frog. "You must promise."

"I promise," said the green frog.

Four days later, the mother frog died and the green frog was terribly sad. He blamed himself for her death and he was sorry for all the heartache he had caused her. He knew it was too late to undo all of his past misdeeds, but he could become a good frog for her now. He resolved finally to listen to his mother’s instructions. "I always did the opposite of what she told me when she was alive," he said to himself, "but now I will do exactly as she told me."

So, even knowing that it was unwise, the green frog buried his mother by the river. And when it rained, he stood watch, praying to heaven that the water would not rise. But when the monsoon rains came that summer, the river rose higher and higher – it flowed over its banks and washed his mother’s grave away.

The green frog sat in the pouring rain by the river bank, crying and crying for his mother. And that is why, to this day, the green frogs cry when it rains.

NOTE: In Korean, as in Chinese, the word "Ch’ong" can refer to both blue and green. For this reason, this story has sometimes been mistranslated as "The Blue Frog," with the mistaken notion that there must be something particular about the son frog (i.e., his blue color) that makes him so contrary. But in Korean, there is no confusion of the colors blue and green, even when they are written with the same Chinese character. The ch’ong kaeguri is a typical small green frog. What seems to be the odd specificity regarding its name in the story is due to another kind of wordplay: another Chinese character, also pronounced ch’ong, means to make a petition or a plea. The Korean term for frog is kaeguri, which is also the sound it makes: kaegul, kaegul. When the frog makes its prayer – its ch’ong – to heaven, it does so by crying out its own name. So the name of the frog, ch’ong kaeguri, can be read as either "green frog" or "frog who pleads."



©2003 by Heinz Insu Fenkl

Fan Death

Everywhere else


















Korea


---------------------------------------------------------------

Death comes to us all. This is no secret. In Korea, however, death can come in the form of an oscillating fan. It lulls you into a false sense of security with its calm whir and gentle breeze. But leave it on too long, and this murderous machine will do you in.

This is no laughing matter. Ask a Korean what will happen if you leave a fan on all night, with your doors and windows closed. Nine times out of ten, you’ll see their eyes widen as they solemnly say, “Oh. You’ll die.” Apparently this phenomenon is propagated by the Korean media which reports a few cases of fan death every summer. I’ve asked my students how they know that fan death is true and the response has been, “Teacher, it’s on the news.”

So how exactly does a fan cause you to bite the dust? While there are a number of explanations, the following are some of the more popular ones.

Apparently fans can:

· suck all the oxygen out of the room and asphyxiate you.

· cool your body and cause death by hypothermia.

· evaporate your body fluids and lead to death by dehydration.

· chop up all the oxygen molecules in the room, leaving none to breathe.

So basically…




Now I’m no scientist, but my own personal experience with fans and enclosed spaces has left me relatively unscathed. Unfortunately, pointing to my experience has done little to change the minds of the Koreans I’ve spoken to about this. So it seems fan death is simply a scientific truth that’s here to stay. The earth revolves around the sun, for every reaction there is an equal and opposite reaction, and fans kill people.

Not surprisingly, fans are sold here with auto-off safety switches. Either the fan manufacturers also believe in fan death, or they just realize that they won’t turn a profit unless their product has the safety feature. So you get two hours max of circulating air and then “click,” off it goes. Your demise has been averted. You’ll wake up in a pool of your own sweat, being eaten by mosquitoes. But hey, you’ll be alive, so don’t complain.

It’s nearly impossible to talk about the issue without resorting to sarcasm…but I’m trying to be non-judgmental about it. There’s enough cultural misunderstanding between Koreans and foreigners without me deliberately adding to the fray. And the endemic, bitter western mindset of “this culture is so stupid” is the last place I want to end up. But I’m really curious to know people’s thoughts on the topic, so sometimes I can’t help but bring it up. I guess the next time a university educated Korean swears to me that fan death is true, I’ll bite my tongue, nod my head, and say something benign like, “Wow, that’s interesting. I never heard of that before coming here.”

It’s the least I can do, right? Koreans think my culture is backward for condoning walking indoors with your shoes on. But most Koreans I’ve met, let that slide. So when it comes to my personal opinions about fan death, I’ll keep silent.


As silent as the grave.


The grave you'll end up in if the auto-off switch fails.

Gimhae to Busan in 3.5 minutes

this is how i get to church on sundays. it takes a little longer than three and half minutes.

thumb war

maybe i say "yeah, dude" a lot more often than i realize. i only really notice on these videos. or maybe i just say it around my students...who continue to teach me korean and make me laugh.

some friends i made at the boryeong mud festival this past weekend. good guys. they taught me how to say "shut up" in korean when the loud girl on the bus wouldn't stop talking. i didn't use it...but now i know how.

외국인 - foreigners

“There you go Erik, that’s Korea for you, right there.” My friend pointed to a bleary eyed drunk American girl. She stared blankly into the rain, beer bottle in hand, then turned and shuffled her way into the crowd of other tipsy foreigners, making their way to the thumping Korean pop music on the beach.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt embarrassed for being a foreigner…but I felt twinges of it again this past weekend.

The relationship between Koreans and English speaking foreigners, specifically teachers, is a strange one. In the five weeks since arriving here, I’ve seen this bizarre love-hate relationship between the two groups. On the one hand, some Koreans look up to English teachers, and give them a certain amount of respect. Or if it’s not respect, at least English teachers have some clout because of their language…the hot commodity over here.

On the other hand, the perception of foreigners by some is that they’re just loud, obnoxious party goers, who don’t give any respect where it’s due. I was on a bus yesterday coming back from the Boryeong mud festival. There was an incredibly loud group of American teachers in the back. The bus driver was laughing at how the only Korean words these teachers knew were “soju” and “mekju” (liquor, and beer). Apparently, these guys had been drinking the entire weekend, up until the point where they boarded the bus. This one large, loud girl felt it important to make sure the entire bus could hear every single thought that popped into her soju clouded head.

“We f---in’ like to party! We’re from f---ing America, b---!” They must have had some Korean friends with them because the whole bus was treated to an English lesson in how to sound like an inarticulate, foul-mouthed moron.

“No no…this is how you say it: ‘Get the f--- away! Don’t f---in’ mess with me’ Hahahahahaha! Say it again! ‘Don’t f---in’ mess with me!’ Yeah we’re from America! This is how we roll b---!”

At some point during the eternal hour and a half trip, someone must have asked her to be quiet.

“Don’t you f---in’ tell me to be quiet! It’s f---in’ 5 in the f---in’ afternoon!” was the respectful response.

So I gritted my teeth, and wished that I had remembered, like every other Korean on the bus did, to bring my ipod.

This kid is a crack up. He was hiding under the desk so he wouldn't have to do his English homework. And as his shirt so aptly reminds us..." Mic Hine London. Cruise in a yacht."

these are some of my students. they're awesome. and they're great at teaching me korean. they all give themselves english names. good thing. i'd be lost otherwise. notice how i can barely say "what's your name?" in korean.

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One of my bosses (on the left) and another teacher took me out for for samgyeopsal last week. I learned the words for "chopsticks," "spoon" and "garlic." I also learned that garlic is not consumed in small quantities here.

this is a hiking trail near my place. pretty sweet.

OK, so I've been in Gimhae for nearly two weeks now. They had me start teaching the day after I got here...less than 24 hours after my flight touched down. Nice. The previous posted video was made about 3 days after being here.

I'm working at two separate after-school academies or "hogwans." They're both part of a franchise called GnB English. So far the teaching has been pretty fun. I teach about 8 or 9 classes a day. The students are pretty cute. Most of them are in elementary school. Each class is only about half an hour long...so I'm not sure how conducive that is for students to actually learn much, especially given the fact that I only teach some classes once a week. I'm the only native speaker at both hogwans, and am surprised that some of the some of the other "English" teachers don't speak that much English. I'm still trying to figure out the curriculum at both academies, and doing my best to communicate in a culture that is very foreign from my own. But hey, it's been pretty low stress, so I'm just rolling with it. Plus I'm in a pretty good situation to learn a lot of Korean quickly...which I've been doing. So that's been fun too.

Met some other foreign teachers last weekend. We hung out sunday afternoon and ate some bulgogi. Got some perspective on korean culture from other outsiders who have been here for several years. Some of them live in my same neighborhood, so hopefully we'll see each other fairly often.

So, things are off to a good start. More later.