Teaching Language Means Teaching Culture; Or, Teaching Away from a Pudding-Normative Society

Brief note: Back in 2012, during my final year of university, I took a class on literacy in the US that really broadened my mind. For my final project I researched the ways that language and culture interact in the ELL classroom, and since I feel like I actually made some good points, here it is, slightly edited for your reading pleasure.

While helping a student with his science homework in the afterschool ELL program at a high school near Seattle, we came across the type of atomic model that is usually called the “plum pudding” model, because it resembles a pudding with plums scattered throughout. 

Is this helping?

Compared to the other atomic models, this one was difficult for me to explain to him, not because it was intrinsically more complicated that any of the others, but because he had no idea what pudding was; the writers of the textbook assumed that the metaphor would be useful for students, that by imagining a pudding they would remember the structure of the atom more easily, but that assumption is based on a very one-sided and Eurocentric expectation of pudding-knowledge. “Teachers do not seem to understand how schools divest ESL students of their human and social capital through curricula and pedagogical practices designed to assimilate them into the mainstream American culture rather than promote learning in terms valued by the learners’ communities” (Ajayi).

Teaching English as a second language, really, teaching any language as a second language, is not just about grammar and vocab and communication: it’s about culture. Language is the medium through which we know and understand culture, and so it should come as no surprise that cultural differences are one of the biggest challenges in learning or teaching a language. Words don't always translate perfectly, making the more complicated concepts all the more difficult to explain. In her article "How ESL Teachers' Sociocultural Identities Mediate Their Teacher Role Identities in a Diverse Urban School Setting,” Lasisi Ajayi quotes a teacher who says that her “lessons always start from what my students bring from their community and I then build the new knowledge on this structure… I don’t want them to feel like they are being asked to abandon their heritage in order to fit into the mono-cultural majority (Ajayi). In the rush to bring ELL students up to par in their new language, cultural differences can easily fall by the wayside, but culture will not disappear just because you aren’t looking at it directly. “Americans have always held tightly to the idea that ethnic cultures would melt or vanish” (Banks), but clearly that is not the case.

Culture, like identity, is an enormously complicated and tangled thing to define, based on more factors than there are stars in the sky. However, just because it’s difficult to figure out doesn’t mean we should just discount it. “Cultures are built on deeply-embedded sets of values, norms, assumptions and beliefs. It can be surprising and sometimes distressing to find that people do not share some of your most deeply held ideas, as most of us take our core values and beliefs for granted and assume they are universally held” (Culture Shock). As many of the teachers from my sources have noted, having a shared culture with their minority or ELL students was helpful, but does that necessarily mean that without a shared background there will be an insurmountable barrier? Mrs. Laban, an ELL teacher in a Seattle high school, mentioned to me that for her to “tell them [her] story is inspiring to them [the students],” since her parents came to America from the Phillipines and she had to learn how to fit in to a new culture just as they did.

             There is no question that there is a big gap between the average teacher and the average student, not even taking ELL classrooms into account. “Nine out of 10 teachers in the United States are white” and “four out of every 10 students are not white” (Aguilar). Those statistics are not reassuring. However, the same article goes on to assert that:

"...it is the teacher’s responsibility to bridge this cultural chasm. We cannot eliminate the differences but we can learn to communicate effectively with each other."

While I am not sure what the statistics are concerning how many teachers there are who learned English as a second language, I can only assume that they are equally concerning, making the need to bridge this gap between teachers and their ELL students even more of an important priority.

Something that a girl in the afterschool ELL program said to me has been stuck in my head ever since I heard it. I was helping her with geometry; she had trouble with the instructions, though her grasp of geometry was much better than mine, even though I could read the instructions easily—between the two of us we were able to work it out somehow. However, even though she was great at math, every time she had an issue with reading the instructions written in English, she would complain that she was stupid. “Gah, I’m so dumb” was a refrain I kept trying to discourage.

By valuing not only what students can do in the classroom but what they each bring to the classroom from their own lives, this attitude could be cured.

“In the past, in their singular quest for modernity and a technocratic society, the Western nation-states tried to eradicate traditional cultures and thus alienated individuals and groups from their first cultures and languages” (Banks). 

As Mark, a teacher and fellow after school tutor told me in an interview, “we need to let them [the students] know the importance of their native language.” Mrs. Laban also noted that she regretted not keeping her own native language, the language of her immigrant parents, alive.

Creating a classroom setting in which everyone’s unique perspective is valuable also creates a setting where students might be less resistant to learning English, as “listening and speaking in a new language is tiring” and students may “feel embarrassed” when they struggle with something or need to ask someone to repeat something (Culture Shock). While English is my first language, I have also been studying both Japanese and Korean for a number of years, so I know that feeling, when you’re just so tired of trying to force your mouth around unfamiliar syllables and your brain around strange grammar formations that instead of asking a question, you just nod and smile and pretend to understand, especially if you feel like you are the only one struggling. By respecting the differing social and cultural backgrounds and knowledge of each student, it is possible to keep them from feeling such a level of self-doubt.

I saw this in action while tutoring three girls from Pakistan at Shorecrest High School; I noticed that their resistance to my help seemed to grow the more they struggled with remembering the names of the colors (what we were working on at the time). However, after spending a few minutes asking them to tell me the names of the colors in Urdu, they cheered up, laughing as I mangled the pronunciation of their language. I still remember one of the words they taught me; turquoise in Urdu is pronounced just like ‘zinc’, but I have zero clue as to the proper spelling

.

When a teacher comes from a similar background as the students in class, it seems like it would be easier to build a connection to said students, and “findings indicate that while multilingual teachers use their own experiences as former ESL students as a resource in classrooms, monolingual teachers lack experiential knowledge that could complement and enrich what they learn from their language education courses.” (Ajayi) Because a multilingual teacher whose native language is not English had to struggle through a lot of the same things his or her students are struggling with, they better know how to make those struggles into less of an issue in the classroom. During his interview Mark agreed with this sentiment; he spent a number of years living in Japan, and said that “living in another culture...helps me relate to what they’re going through. All the things they are struggling with, if you have struggled too, then you can relate to them and share experiences.”

While there certainly are some teachers who have had life experiences that give them an easier path toward understanding the struggles that their students go through on a daily basis, it seems likely that there are some teachers who approach their ELL classrooms with the attitude that Banks mentions, that ethnic differences would vanish, or as Tatum puts it, they worry that acknowledging racial, cultural, or ethnic differences is “wrong...a sign perhaps of bigotry or prejudicial thinking” (Tatum). There are even teachers with a wholly different issue, that approach their classrooms without even considering the differences; their cultural assumptions are so deeply rooted that they do not realize what they are or are not doing. I believe that every teacher, not just teachers of ELL students, should have these issues brought to their attention, and I have come up with at least a very small activity that could help in that effort.

First I would find a story, a folktale or the like, that is incredibly well-known in a foreign country, such as the story of Momotaro from Japan, a cute little folktale about a boy who is born out of a peach and makes various animal friends during a quest to defeat a band of roguish demons. While it is likely that pretty much any student in a Japanese school would know this story, it seems unlikely that a room full of teachers in the US would include someone who did. After choosing the story, I would write it out, and then translate various words in the story, some important words and some basic words, into a foreign language. I would do this with several different languages, causing the story to be rather difficult to understand. Once in class, I would split the teachers up into groups of three or four, and give each group a version of the story with words translated, some into Japanese, some into Spanish, French, Tagalog, whatever languages I or the people around me knew.

Each group would have a set of questions to try to answer after they had puzzled through the story, and after they had all had a decent amount of time to work, I would bring the class together and discuss their feelings about how difficult the assignment was. I hope that after doing such a project, everyone would realize the kind of challenges that face students of English as a second language, especially when we expect them to get cultural cues. Just as a teacher might give students a book of illustrated fairy tales in order to help them work on their reading, assuming that the familiar storylines and helpful pictures would make it easier for them to tease out the meaning when in actuality they may not know Snow White from Marilyn Monroe, using a folktale from a different culture creates the same confusion for the teachers in this hypothetical classroom. While it is not a huge contribution to the solution to many of the issues brought up in this paper, I feel that this small activity could be very effective.

As a younger tutor coming in who is not quite a teacher but not quite an adult either, I feel that I have a leg up as far as connecting with the students goes. Maybe they do not see me as a peer exactly, but even though English is my first language and I am not from any ethnic minority at all, I know what it’s like to be confused and to struggle, and sometimes I think a connection on even that kind of level can make all the difference. On my first day of tutoring, there was a substitute, so I was thrown to the proverbial wolves and sent to the library to help the three new Pakistani girls. As I wrote later that day in my tutoring log, “they were very patient with me, my long pauses as I tried to think of what to do, my nervous laughter--and after a while we all sort of bonded over how unfamiliar we all were with what was going on. I knew English, but had no idea how to teach them, and they didn’t know English, but somehow we found a place in the middle to meet”. Cultural differences will never go away—at least that is what I believe—but if we can all work to find middle grounds on which to meet, it will make for a more positive outcome for everyone.

Mandu for Breakfast: Jeonju Food Tour Part 2

Hopefully you've recovered from the feast that was Part 1, because I have yet more food to talk to you about. I pretty much always have food to talk about, so it's a wonder I ever write about anything else on this blog. First stop of the day? Dumplings.

I know, eating dumplings for breakfast sounds weird, but in our defense A) we slept in pretty late and B) don't be such a square.

Mandu god is watching you.

According to a friend of a friend this place is pretty famous, and if a long line is a good judge of quality, then by that alone this place would win awards. It stretched down the street and around a corner, and some people even had snacks to sustain them during the wait.

Working hard in that tiny space!

The setup in this place is perfect. The line moves past the display of freshly made dumplings, so you have a chance to think about your order before you get to the front. As we watched, they were continuously bringing out fresh wares. Apparently this place is famous for the shrimp mandu, but since I can't eat shrimp, we made sure to get a full selection.

Shrimp balls and kimchi mandu.

If it had been up to me we would have ended up with one of everything, but fortunately Joon could handle the pressure and managed to buy a more reasonable amount.

Sexy close-up shot.

Pictured here, from left to right: 8-pack of kimchi mandu, 1 fried mandu with noodles inside, 2 spicy kimchi mandu, 2 shrimp mandu, and 1 tortilla wrapped fusion...thing. And dixie cup for scale. We practically had to fight a couple to keep our seats, but we were clearly there first and he was just being a big greedy jerk.

I cannot stress how huge, delicious, and hugely delicious these were. The spicy ones were the perfect amount of spicy, too; just enough to give it a kick without covering up the flavor. If I lived in Jeonju, I'd probably brave the line at least once a week to stuff my face with these pockets of heaven. I'd also become horribly fat, so it's probably better that I stay in Wonju.

Our final stop was Cafe Manil Manil, for the patbingsu that had eluded us the day before. The owner was really nice, and even remembered us! Patbingsu isn't exactly a winter food, but in the warm cafe with the sun shining through the many windows, it was easy to forget the chilly weather.

Very natural, comfortable feeling.

Real flowers on the tables!

Too cute. Also explains all the old hippie music.

I was thrilled even before our dessert and coffee arrived, because the music in Manil Manil was basically all the music I listened to with my parents when I was younger. I even heard some Eric Clapton, which I don't think I've heard before in Korea.

Americano for an American.

AWW. YISS.

The red beans were just right, not too sweet, and the shaved ice was the kind that a bit milky and sweet, so the two complemented each other delightfully. I also had a nice hot coffee to warm me up, which rounded out the meal perfectly. I feel like this place must get crazy in the summer, but whatever the situation, you should definitely go here if you're in Jeonju.

With that, our adventure finally came to an end. Full and happy, we caught a bus to Seoul, then I caught a second bus back to Wonju, the catching of which is a long story unto itself that I may tell later. If anyone wants more specific directions to any of these places, leave a comment and I'll try to draw a map or get an address.

Eating My Way Through Jeonju: Food Tour Part 1

Long time no see! Or not see, exactly, but...well...anyways. Sorry I didn't write for so long. I got my first bad cold of the season, and while it tried to knock me down, I got up again because, to quote Chumbawumba, "you're never gonna keep me down." I've been working on a longer post about my teaching style and serious stuff like that, but it's taking too long, so instead I'll take you on a food tour of Jeonju! Because who doesn't love food?

Jeonju is about 3 hours from Wonju by bus, but since I was traveling with a friend, I met her in Seoul on Friday night so we could leave together on Saturday morning. Her apartment is super tiny but really cute, and it certainly made me feel grateful for all the space I have to live in these days. 

We caught the 8 AM bus out of Central City and napped for the first couple hours, if only to escape from the Most Depressing TV Program Ever. We were close to the front of the bus, which is usually a great location, because you can watch the TV that they always have going in front. I usually entertain myself by trying to guess the plots of random dramas without hearing the dialogue. This time, though, it was a curse, because for the entirety of the 3 hour bus ride they were showing a program about different places where volunteers go to help people in terrible situations. Causes included: starving children in Africa, homeless people in Seoul, and a little girl whose skin was so fragile even just water touching her felt like alcohol on an open wound. So yeah. That was wonderful to watch.

On the way, we stopped at a rest stop for a bit of leg-stretching and snacking. Korean rest stops are amazing, at least compared to what I've experienced in the states. There is real food, freshly cooked, and lots of different snacks to try. We only had 15 minutes, though, so Joon suggested we get some potatoes. Best. Decision. Ever. 

I'm drooling just looking at this picture.

Maybe it was because I hadn't eaten any breakfast and was starving, but these potatoes were amazing. I nearly choked on one because I was eating too fast. It was really embarrassing. What's great about this snack, though,  is its simplicity. It's just roasted potatoes with salt, but on a chilly November day it's perfect, and at only 2,500 won it's a steal. If you're ever at a rest stop in Korea and you need a snack, you should definitely try this.

As you can see, we chose the perfect time of year to visit. The leaves were all shades of red, orange and yellow, the air was cool and crisp even with the sun out, and all that delicious food was waiting for us to enjoy it.

There were long lines in front of just about every restaurant, so we chose based entirely on length of line. Luckily, we chose well.

Dramatic angles make food more delicious.

Tteokgalbi (I had to look this up) is made from short ribs (galbi) and pork. The meat is mixed together, then shaped into a sort of rectangle before being grilled over charcoal. You can either just eat it straight off the grill with a bit of salt, or dip it in some spicy sauce. If you have the patience you can even make a lettuce wrap with rice and kimchi. Much like the potato snack, I really enjoyed how simple this meal was. 

Beautiful presentation.

Since no meal is complete without soup, we finished off with some nengmyeon, delicious cold noodles. I went for the spicy version, which sadly wasn't actually all that spicy. Still great though!

For dessert we planned to go to Manil Manil, a cafe famous for it's patbingsu. Sadly, they were out of red bean topping for the day, so we had to make a new choice. 

The name of this cafe sounds like "choose me", so we did, and we were not disappointed. It's hard to see in the picture, but flavors ranged from the basics like strawberry and mango and chocolate all the way to grapefruit, blueberry yogurt, and wasabi, I panicked when I got to the front of the line and ordered the first thing I saw, which was strawberry. No regrets. There were slices of real strawberry embedded in the sorbet, and the flavor was just right. Not too sweet, very smooth, just...perfect. 

Just because it's winter doesn't mean I can't eat popsicles.

While we enjoyed our dessert we waited in line at PNB, a famous bakery that's been in business since 1951. While they bake all sorts of things, they're most famous for their chocopies. I didn't know chocopies could be fancy, but I guess you learn something new every day. The line stretched a couple blocks down the street, and each person could only buy 5, for a whopping 8,000 won. After trying one, though, I can see why they're famous. 

For one thing, they're pretty big-- bigger than your usual packaged chocopie. Nice rich chocolate, slightly crisp cake, classic marshmallow filling, and a bonus: strawberry cream! I managed to eat only half of one before I was full, but I could easily have shared it with two other people. The line maybe long, but I'd consider this delicious treat to be worth the wait.

Finally, a museum that caters to my interests.

After all that eating we decided we had to walk around a bit before exploding. All this food was located in the middle of a Hanok Village, which meant there were plenty of beautiful buildings and historical things to poke around in and look at. We also stumbled across some kind of performance, elementary school dancers and also some great drumming. 

For dinner, Joon's friend recommended a less well known but delicious beef restaurant. Beef is pretty pricey in Korea, but hey, we were on vacation! What better time to splurge a little?

What dreams are made of.

All this for 35,000 won! NOT BAD, if I do say so myself. A selection of beef to grill, a mountain of side dishes, and some extra vegetable soup that our nice server gave us for free. Speaking of our server, she was the most adorable thing ever. The moment we sat down, this tiny middle-aged woman came over and, upon seeing me, started throwing out random bits of English that she knew. I may have been the first foreigner in the restaurant, based on her reaction. She even mentioned that her daughter studies English in some hagwon. Maybe trying to impress me? I don't know. It was pretty cute.

For dessert we got ice cream macaron sandwiches and then stopped for some bitter and very healthy-tasting tea; the perfect end to a long, delicious day. Stay tuned for day two, which includes famous patbingsu and a series of unfortunate bus events.

Weekly Quote Collection 2: Questionable Advice

While teaching advice, we had a few gems.

Problem: I don't have any friends.

Suggestions:

"You should make boyfriend!"

"Well, how can I meet him?"

"PC bang!"

Okay kids. I'll just hang around the PC bangs until I meet my Prince Charming.

Problem: I'm going to meet SHINee.

"You should bring your soul."

"You shouldn't say ugly. You should say handsome!"

These ones I actually quite liked. How could I not bring my soul if I were to meet SHINee?

The other thing I'm teaching this week is "which do you prefer" and after one day it's already been great.

"Which do you prefer, eating or sleeping?"

"I prefer eating, because my mouth wants."

Then I asked the same student again: "Which do you prefer, singing or dancing?"

"I prefer singing, because...my mouth wants."

I love it when they manage to make jokes.

I Won't Share My Oreos

As you get older, birthdays get...complicated. It used to be so easy. Cake and candles, invite your friends over, a pile of presents, rinse, repeat. But now that I'm older, it's more of an annoying obligation that anything else at times. It feels as if I'm expected to have a party, expected to go out, when often all I want to do is stay home with a pizza.

This year is the first of those big, round number they put on greeting cards: 25 years old. I'm in a new age bracket on forms, no longer relegated to the 18-24s. In honor of making it halfway to when I can start being an eccentric aunt, I decided to celebrate this birthday in my own way. Instead of doing all the things I felt expected to do, I promised myself that I would only do what I wanted. 

My actual birthday was Monday, but I figured, why not take the whole weekend. Treat yo self, right? Saturday was amazing, though from the outside, very boring. I managed to roll out of bed around 11. After a couple weeks sleeping in a nest of blankets, a chance to really enjoy my new bed was really the only birthday present I wanted. My bedroom faces south, so the sun really lights it up during the day. 

The rest of the day was basically just...hardcore puttering? Is that a thing? If it isn't, it should be, because I puttered in a big way. I've been so busy that it feels like I live at school rather than in my apartment. As it turns out, moving to a bigger apartment means a great deal of work. To put it in perspective, my current bedroom is about the size of my old apartment, and my bedroom isn't exactly a cathedral. I'm pretty sure my new place is about 2-3 times the size of my old place, so even after a couple weeks, I'm still working on getting everything in order. Step by step.

I tried to bring the landlord's dog, Sunjin, with me on a walk, but I think he's still a bit too young and skittish to go off on an adventure with a non-family person. Honestly it was adorable. As I was leaving, his main owner said we should go together, and I was totally board, and so was Sunjin-- at first. We made it about 3 blocks before he abruptly decided that nope, nope, this was was not happening. I tried to reassure him but he was having none of it. Hopefully once he gets to know me better I can start taking him on my walks down by the river. I miss having dogs.

On Sunday I was ambushed. I was hanging out with some friends, with no particular plans. As I came back into the room after using the restroom, I could tell something fishy was going on. I was made to sit in a particular place. Everyone was acting a bit dodgy. By the time I realized the truth, it was too late: the cake was already entering the room, a lovely green tea cake with fruit on top from Tous Les Jours, so I honestly can't complain.

Monday should have been horrible. I had the worst schedule in the history of school schedules: 6 out of 7 class periods, mostly 3rd grade, plus debate club during lunch. Normally I only teach 4-5 classes, so 6 plus debate was just...horrible to imagine. However, thanks to some kind of ~birthday magic~ all of my classes went smoothly, or at least didn't make me want to hide under my desk and cry,

About once a month the old office crew, basically my work family, meets up for a meal and coffee. It's a great time to actually talk and catch up, since we're all in different schools and offices now. This time it lined up perfectly with my birthday, so they took me out for shabu shabu. It was so delicious, but I ate waaaay too much. Mushrooms, noodles, vegetables, meat, more mushrooms, wrap it up in some rice paper, dip it in sauce, enjoy, repeat until uncomfortably full.

There was too much food to fit into the shot.

However, apparently just eating way too much food was not enough, because we braved the rain to visit a bakery that I think belongs to my supervisor's...sister in law? Something like that. Anyways, the place renovated recently and started baking things. Really delicious and pretty things. Things that include super adorable cakes with fruit on top AND inside. Magical! It was also apparently the first cake ever made in the new place! I felt so honored!

So many delicious breads!

Too cute to eat.

Clever decorations.

Birthdays may be getting more difficult as time goes by, but this has been the best birthday I've had in a long time. What stands out the most is how...thoughtful people have been. Two of my students gave me oreos because they remembered an off-hand comment I'd made about loving them. They also told me I wasn't allowed to share them with anyone- these oreos are mine and mine alone, which was such a cute sentiment. Other new friends remembered that I'd chosen the green tea ice cream one time, so they chose a green tea cake. Elly gave me a lamp because she knows I read in bed. Hyeonji gave me candles to cheer up my new home.

I'm terrible at asking for what I want or need, but this time it worked out even without my help. If this birthday is an omen for this year, I've got a great time to look forward to.

 As a bonus, here's a video that Hyeonji took on the sly. We all thought she was just taking pictures! The sneaky monkey.

Weekly Quote Collection: Shaking my Sausage

My students are constantly saying either hilarious or amazing things, so I'm going to start posting highlights here on a weekly basis. This week was...quite the week.

During a 1st year class:

"Teacher! I'm shaking my sausage every day!"

"Me too teacher! I'm very long sausage!"

Someone had taught them the term "johnson" as well, so there were plenty such jokes as well. Another boy came up to me to ask "Teacher, what is 'Johnson'?" I managed to choke out, while trying to hide my laughter "It's...a boy has..."

"Ah, okay okay. Thank you teacher."

I accidentally wore burgundy tights and a red coat and an orangey scarf today, so the comments about my color choices were common. The best, though, happened during my last class of the day today.

First, I was compared to Christmas. Then a tree with autumn leaves. Once I was compared to Iron Man, I knew I had to get things under control. Off came the coat, but my problems weren't over. My dress today has pretty structured shoulders, so the moment my coat came off I heard the words.

"Oh! Teacher! Vegeta! Dragon ball!"

I just can't win.

Bonus points if you photoshop my face onto a picture of Vegeta.

One Year Later

The traditional gift for a first anniversary is paper, so I guess after I write this I'll print a copy and frame it. What I'm trying to say is, a little over one year ago, I arrived in Korea. The modern first anniversary gift is a clock, which seems apt as the time has passed faster than I realized. A year already? Are you sure?

I've been looking back through old posts, and it's a relief to see that my feelings about the country haven't changed that much:

"This is where I’ll be living for the next year, maybe more, and there is nothing I want more in life right now. I’ve never been the sort to follow my dreams; I’ve stuck to what I know I can accomplish, and that’s been fine, but finally I’m taking a chance at something I’ve wanted since I met those Jet teachers in Japan almost six years ago." 

I know, I know, it's disgustingly...shmoopy and emotional, but the sentiment was, and is, 100% real. I needed a change, a new life, a new chance. While I'm not quite ready to go public with everything that was going wrong in my life before I moved to Korea, suffice it to say that things were...bad. Not good. Things felt pretty hopeless, like my life was on hold. It doesn't help that the weather in Seattle shares most of its characteristics with a damp sock. Even when things are going well in your life, unless you really enjoy overcast gray weather, it's hard to stay positive during the interminably long Seattle winters. And springs. And falls. And sometimes it stays cloudy even though summer, because the other 9 months just weren't enough!

During the 12 hour flight from Seattle to Korea, I made a decision to use this move as a chance to really change my life. Instead of bringing all my bad habits and worries along in my carry on, I wanted to do my best to leave them all back in Seattle. New country, new me.

At my Epik orientation, I had a great chance to really focus in on what I wanted to change in my life. One of the activities during the week was an introductory taekwondo class. They had us write our goals for the coming year on a board and then break it. To me, it felt as if I was putting all my fears, my worries, my problems into that board, and in the act of breaking it, I was sending them out of my life. As you can see in the photo, I had three main goals. "Don't be afraid. Learn Korean. Be happy." It's one year later. How did I do?

1. Don't Be Afraid

This is a big one. It seems a bit silly, but trust me, it really is an important issue in my life. I'm anxious a lot of the time, and a bit shy, and nervous in unfamiliar situations. I've missed out on opportunities because I was too worried about dumb stuff to take advantage of them. I didn't want that to happen here. Moving to a new country, starting a new job, meeting so many new people...it's been one unfamiliar situation after another.

What this first goal means to me is just...don't miss out. Don't stay home because you're worried you won't know anyone at the party. Don't keep your mouth shut because you're not sure what to say. Don't overthink it. As those Nike shirts say, just do it.

While I don't feel that I've completely accomplished this goal, I know I've made progress. I volunteered as class leader during my orientation and managed to make a speech in front of the entire orientation without fainting. I took a vacation entirely by myself, from Sokcho to Seoul. I've befriended people in my office even through a severe language barrier. Instead of saying no and staying on the sidelines, I'm saying yes and making a fool of myself but having fun.

2. Learn Korean

This has been a bit on again off again. When I first started studying Korean seriously, it was fantastic, because I was learning at a breakneck speed. I've written about this before, how the first few months were so exciting, because every grammar point opened vast expanses of understanding. However, as with anything, the honeymoon had to end. Now that I actually have to work pretty hard to learn new things, it's easier to get frustrated. I often feel like I'm not improving at all. My vocabulary is tiny, my grammar sucks, and no matter how much or little I study, nothing seems to change.

However, while I don't really feel as if I've improved, when I take a step back, I realize that that's crazy talk. A friend recently reminded me that when I left for Korea, I knew about two phrases, plus I could read and write very, very slowly. I think back to those first few work dinners, how I sat in a corner, unable to understand most of what was going on around me. And actually talking to someone? No way.

Inexplicably, I left a note to my family in Korean. SECRET MESSAGES.

Now I can have conversations, albeit very simple ones. I can ask for directions and halfway understand what I'm told. I can befriend taxi drivers, make jokes in the office, and be the occasional living dictionary for my students. While I'm certainly not anywhere near fluent, I have improved. I hope this coming year will be my chance to improve even further.

3. Be Happy

I guess this one is obvious, huh? Deceptively simple, in a way. But of all my goals, this is the one that I feel I've been most successful at. Not to say I've become Pollyanna-ish; I certainly have my share of bad days, but since I moved to Korea they're at least fewer and farther between. When I start to get down, I'm able to get back up a lot faster. Maybe it's the weather.

Oddly enough, I feel at home here. I'm not at all sure why, but Korea just really seems to suit me. Time and time again people tease me about my "Korean heart" or say that even if I look like an American, I'm secretly Korean. Frankly I think they're exaggerating, but it warms my heart every time. 

A big part of this as well is the feeling of having purpose. Instead of a repetitive job that never seems to affect anything, I have a job where I actually feel like I'm improving and changing lives, at least in small ways. Instead of a job, I have what feels like the beginning of a career. For every rough class there is an amazing class. Seeing that "aha!" moment when I student learns something new or gets inspired because of something in my class...that is what makes me happy. 

How could that face NOT make you happy?

All in all, it's been a good year. I finally feel like I have my feet under me. I've got my sealegs. Things are coming together, and I'm not even 25 yet! For the folks keeping score, looks like I managed a 3/3. Granted, my goals were simple and open-ended, but where I'm looking from, I call it a victory. Does this mean it's time to make a new set of goals?

Guess I'd better find a board and a permanent marker~!

Get a Move On: A Tour of My New Apartment in Korea

As you may have gathered from my previous post, my dreams of living in a space bigger than a shoebox are finally coming true! By which I mean, of course, I moved!

Unfortunately I never really got any good pictures of my old place, but it was quite small. Bigger than a dorm room, but not by much. My "kitchen" was a microwave with a hotplate perched on top, and if I had dishes to dry I didn't have even an inch of counter space. No table, no chair, no couch, just a bed and a TV and a dresser. I'm not complaining, though; for the first place I've ever lived in without a roommate, it was quite nice. Certainly cozy in the winter!

However, when it came time to renew the lease, I felt the need for something...more. Like a stove. And the ability to invite more than one person over without running out of space. My new place feels ridiculously huge in comparison. I'm pretty sure my new bedroom is bigger than my old apartment in it's entirety, and the concept of having multiple rooms is really confusing me at this point. I keep losing track of my stuff because I leave it in a different room.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's do a tour!

I'm teaching him English.

My place is above a 삼겹살 (Korean BBQ) restaurant, so I have to enter through a sort of back courtyard that is "guarded" by the cutest little black lab puppy. He's a bit shy, but I'm sure we'll become friends before too long. The courtyard is actually part of the prep area of the kitchen, meaning that in the evening I sometimes have to pick my way around cabbage scraps from kimchi making or confuse restaurant patrons who were just looking for the bathroom. "Why is there a white girl in gym clothes in the back room of my restaurant?" I imagine them thinking.

My landlords are forever interested in my life as well. In a way it feels like living with family. If I come home late, they want to know where I was, and make sure I ate dinner. If I go out, they want to know why I'm getting coffee but not dinner. I once came home with a big shopping bag and the grandpa was super curious about what I'd bought. "Did you buy something pretty?"

I know this might sound a bit annoying, but it's actually oddly comforting. It's nice to know there's someone looking out for me. Also, I turn it into a game of stealth. Can I get past the dog without making him bark, then across the courtyard and into the safety of my apartment before anyone notices me? It's fun~

Even my door is exciting.

Once I make it up the stairs I get to enjoy all the benefit of a potted garden with none of the responsibility of watering and transplanting. I also really enjoy this fancy door. It's little details like this that make even an apartment feel fancy.

Please, come in.

Entrance...pretty normal. The shoe cabinet is what matters, though. I can fit all of my shoes in there, with a whole shelf empty to fill with NEW shoes. Total enabler. There's also a pretty sweet section for stuff like umbrellas and gloves and hats. I might install a coat hanger system of some sort, but I'm not entirely sure about the logistics of that just yet. I figure hot water and a bed should come before things like coat hangers.

Please ignore the mess.

A view from the entrance, with suitcases for scale. Look at all the natural light! The bedroom has southern exposure and a big window so it's really cheery even on cloudy days.


Again, sorry about the mess. They redid the entire kitchen right before I moved in, so it's really nice. I have a gas range with two burners, a microwave from my previous place, a nice big sink, and more cabinets than I know what to do with. I don't currently have a fridge but...I'm working on that.

The window in the kitchen/living room area sadly looks out on nothing more than an alley, and it's so close to my neighbors that I can listen to their television shows in the evening.

If not for the piles of clothes it would almost be artistic.

I know it may be a bit early in our relationship, but I feel that it's time to invite you into my bedroom. I'd also like to introduce you to my #1 fan.

Okay, I'm sorry, those were two horrible jokes in a row. I promise I'll try to be serious from now on. This bedroom was what originally made me fall in love with this apartment. It's a nice size, bright white walls, and sunlight streaming in through the big window. It does face out onto the street so I'll need some curtains to shut out the light pollution of the local shops, but it's totally worth it for the feeling of waking up to bright sunshine. I can't decide if I want to get a real bed or a futon/mat type thing. This vast expanse of empty apartment feels so full of potential. I could put anything in here!

Always necessary.

I also have a bigger bathroom with a nicer mirror and better lighting. The red color scheme is nothing I would have chosen on my own, but it's growing on me, even if it clashes with the wall colors.

So far, I'm really happy with this space. I'm missing a lot of furniture still, so it feels a bit like camping, but I know I'll work that out over the next couple weeks. Sorry if this wasn't the most entertaining of posts, but I figure that maybe one or two people will be curious about my new digs.

Any tips on how I should arrange the living room and kitchen? I have no idea where to put the fridge.

I Can't Stay but I Don't Want to Leave

I'll be moving soon, and this fills me with some conflicting emotions. On the one hand, my current place is a sort of glorified dorm room, with no kitchen to speak of and barely enough space to do, well, anything. On the other hand, my landlords are some of the sweetest people I've ever met. It's not unlike renting an apartment from your friend's grandparents.

From the very start, the woman who owns the building has been incredibly kind to me. I think she worries about me, since I live alone in a foreign country, without any family nearby. I still remember hurrying to the door, in the middle of unpacking a giant suitcase, to receive a plate of grapes. While it shocked me at the time, little did I know it was only the first of many kind deliveries at odd hours. Homemade kimchi and sikhye, more grapes, pears and even, on one memorable occasion, an extra plate of jajjangmyeon.

Her husband is a bit more intimidating, despite his rather small stature. He speaks with a gruff voice, barking out short statements and scowling, so for a long time I was kind of scared of him. However, as the weeks and months went by and my Korean improved, I realized that was just his style. Every time I left my apartment, he'd ask where I was going, and tell me to go and come back safely. If it was late, he'd tell me to be careful. If I struggled to find my keys in the detritus at the bottom of my purse, he'd get the door open for me.

~*~

While our day to day interactions are nice, it's during holidays that their kind and welcoming attitude really shines. I experience this first back in January, during the Lunar New Year. Unlike the new year in the US, this is less a time to go out with friends and more a time to stay home and eat a meal with your family; it's a bit like Christmas in that way.

Anyways, for various soju and videogame related reasons, I'd  been up pretty late the night before, so my landlady knocking (more like banging. she's surprisingly strong) on my door around 9 AM woke me from a deep sleep. Assuming it was just a package or possibly more grapes, I stumbled to the door in my pajamas, glasses askew, only to have it slowly sink in that not only was she asking me (in Korean) if I had eaten yet, but she was inviting me upstairs to join her family. I managed to mumble something along the lines of “No I haven’t eaten/just a minute please/thank you”.Considering that even basic English is often a challenge for me within 30 minutes of waking up, I considered even that much Korean to be a serious accomplishment.

Still in a blur, I threw on some halfway decent clothes, slapped on enough makeup to keep me from looking like a zombie, and tried to mentally prepare myself for meeting an unknown amount of people who probably didn’t speak any English. Apparently I didn’t gather myself fast enough, though, because my landlord also came down to invite me up. I guess they were worried I hadn’t understood? Or I thought I’d gone back to sleep?

Fortunately, the family was pretty laid back. When I knocked on the door, they quickly ushered me into the living room and made me sit and eat soup with the older daughter and son-in-law and grandson, Shion. Somehow, the kid was the only one whose name I learned. Fortunately, the son-in-law was pretty good at English, so when my broken Korean fell apart, he was able to help out. The food was delicious: rice cake and dumpling soup, fresh fruit, and various side dishes. I think most of the family had already eaten, because they were lounging around watching TV, while my landlady kept pushing more and more food at me. If I stopped eating for even a moment, she would give me a slice of apple or a strawberry on a tiny fork. I guess grandmothers are the same no matter where you go.

As my natural awkwardness in unfamiliar situations started to fade, I began to feel a bit like I was spending a holiday with my own family. A bit too full of food, sleepy, and vaguely watching television as my landlord puttered away at his craft project and the grandson and son-in-law played silly games on the floor.

The polaroid camera must have been a Christmas present.

However, the most surprising moment came when it was time for the family to do the traditional bows and greetings and giving of New Year’s money. I knew what was happening, but as the tenant guest I assumed that I would not be included. I’m not family, and a foreigner besides, so why would I butt in? Wrong! Not only did they push me forward to bow and greet the grandparents (which I managed to do without stammering or falling over), they even gave me some money! I was shocked, and so happy. They sent me home with kimchi and fruit, and a warm feeling of being adopted into yet another family.

~*~

Time passed, summer faded into fall, and suddenly Chuseok was upon us. Chuseok is more or less Korean Thanksgiving, a sort of harvest celebration with lots of cooking and certain food that is inextricably linked with the holiday. Fortunately, this time I was half expecting to be forcefully invited up to join my landlord for a meal, though despite my best efforts I still didn't manage to wake up in time to be ready when he banged on the door. Seriously, who is awake at 8:30 on a holiday. Crazy people.

I wasn't able to fit all the food in the picture.

You know what else was crazy? The amount of food. As you can see, they'd cooked enough to feed an army. Rice cakes, soup, bulgogi, some kind of beef dish, kimchi, various fried vegetables, japchae...I was completely overwhelmed.

Apparently in the months that have passed since new year's everyone forgot that I'm capable of using chopsticks, so I had to undergo the usual volley of questions. Can you eat spicy food? Can you use chopsticks? Do you like kimchi? Yes, yes, and yes. My landlady especially loved the fact that I liked her kimchi. As she explained to me with a laugh, her husband, her son and grand-daughter all don't like kimchi. I managed to get in a bit of a joke there, asking the son if he was Korean, to which his mom replied that he's probably an alien. Apparently my humor is only effective on old people and children. Not entirely sure what that says about me...

After eating more than I thought was possible, we all settled into a comfortable and sated quiet in front of the television, which is when I discovered that my landlord is a minor local celebrity. He makes these amazing sculptures and containers out of folded paper, and the best thing is, the paper he uses is recycled takeout menus, coupon books, and ticket stubs. Apparently this caught the attention of a local tv crew, because suddenly there was my neighborhood on tv, with reporters following my landlord around as he gathered the materials he needed.

This was my favorite.

Want to move in?

A small selection of the full collection.

He must spend most of his time on this hobby, and it's really adorable how proud of his work he is. When he caught me taking some pictures of the collection, he insisted on getting a shot of him sitting in front. He even gave me a small one! I haven't quite decided what to use it for, but I know I'll treasure it.

Well-deserved pride.

Hard at work.

Hard to believe it's made from coupons and train tickets!

I've found a new place to live, but it's not far. It's probably not likely, but I hope I'll be able to stay in touch with this incredibly kind and generous family. I wish it were easier for me to tell them how much I appreciate all they've done for me. I guess it's motivation to get back to work on my Korean studies, huh? A friend suggested I write a letter in Korean, but so much of what I want to say is way above my level. Being so far from family is one of the hard parts about living over here, but if I keep meeting people like this, I know I'll be able to survive.