Memorial Day Weekend (and a Birthday!)

Left to right: me, Sophia, Hana, and Amy at Dadaepo (다대포) Beach in Busan.

I had a lovely three-day weekend thanks to Korean Memorial Day (현충일, 6/6). Many Koreans celebrate the day off by going camping or to the Beach. Unsurprisingly, the Haeundae Sand Festival was also held this weekend. My friends and I avoided the huge crowds at the festival, however, and went to a quieter beach in southern Busan called Dadaepo (다대포). Actually, we didn't even spend that much time on the beach. A good chunk of our weekend was spent in restaurants and cafes, eating. 해물파전 (savory seafood pancake), 수제비 (wheat flake soup), 밀면 (cold flour noodle soup), Baskin Robbins ice cream, pastries from a local bakery, and more... To work all of that food off, we took jumping pictures on the sand.

Me at my least chivalrous. (taken by Sophia)

Not only was it nice to see friends this weekend (especially since I doubt I'll have time to even leave my city for the foreseeable near future), it was great to welcome Hana back to Korea! Hana and I met at church in college, and it was a surprise to me when I found out we would both be going to Korea on Fulbright grants. Fast forward two years later, and here we are catching up, stuffing our faces with food, and singing our lungs out to the soundtrack of Frozen like friends naturally do.

Hana and me, and the most delicious pajeon and sujebi I've had in recent memory.

Things I missed this weekend: the Haeundae Sand Festival, the Korea Queer Cultural Festival, and Swarthmore's 150th anniversary celebration! Yes, my alma mater turned 150 years this year, and there was an enormous reunion party. I stayed away from Facebook all weekend so as to prevent feelings of jealous and... FOMO? (I've never used that acronym before, not sure if I did it right.) But I'm okay; I'm having a great time on the other side of the planet, anyway. Happy Birthday, Swat!

To Teachers!

The Korean Google Doodle for Teachers Day!

Today is Teachers Day! It's a special day when students show their appreciation for their teachers past and present, in keeping with the idea that in Korea, a child's teacher is every bit as important, respected, and responsible for a proper upbringing as her parents are.

Gifts of food, flowers, and boutonnieres were delivered to all the offices today, and I got a nice note from one of my favorite students. What really surprised me, though, was seeing banners strung up in our main building's atrium. At first, I thought that they were more of the banners that our school puts up to congratulate students who win competitions. But then, I saw that they were from universities... and also that some of them were rather oddly designed. I don't think Yonsei University would really congratulate future prospective students with a grinning eagle-headed man or that Hanyang University would compare our teachers to coffee.

When I actually read the banners, I realized that they had been given by former students of Changwon Science High School. There was one each from five of the best universities in Korea: Hanyang, KAIST, Seoul National, Sungkyunkwan, and Yonsei; all of them had well-wishes and words of thanks. The amazing kids at KAIST also sent a banner on which they had hand-written long letters to their past teachers: the hardworking, sacrificial individuals who'd led them through two years of grueling academic torture so that they could succeed in their education. I noticed a "Mr. Cheng, Thank You" among all the indecipherable Korean, and I was touched.

These are some of the banners strung up in the hall. I'm going to try my hand at translating them... from top to bottom:

Hanyang University: "If our school's professors are like normal coffee, CSHS's teachers are T.O.P. We'll never forget your kindness."
KAIST: "We will never forget your kindness."
Seoul National University: "We're becoming people thanks to you, teachers! We respect you always." (And this one is followed by the names of students along with nicknames I don't fully comprehend.)
Sungkyunkwan Univesrity: "How our teachers' kindness is higher than heaven! Thank you."
Yonsei University: "To our teachers who guided us along a straight path, everlasting thanks. Yonsei pride for CSHS: Go Eagles!"

Anyway, I want to take just a moment to thank all of my past amazing teachers, starting with Swarthmore professors who've really helped me and had an impact on my life: To David Harrison, Donna Jo Napoli, Nathan Sanders, and Helen Plotkin. And to my own high school teachers who would probably be surprised to hear where I've ended up six years after graduation: Jean Dotson, Lee Glover, Valerie Hodin, Elizabeth Waller. To my coaches and cello teachers, youth pastors and camp counselors, dozens of language teachers of dozens of foreign languages, and my parents. To all my friends who have studied education and burn passionately for their schools or for fixing the broken American education system. To everyone who's ever invested themselves in the cause of a well-rounded, accessible, and inspiring education for children all around the world... To teachers! They are among the strongest and most important members of any society. Give your nearest teacher a hug.

스승의날 축하합니다!

Golden Holiday

A pagoda with lanterns erected in the middle of Changwon's downtown in celebration of Buddha's Birthday.

Happy belated Children's Day (어린이날, May 5th), Buddha's Birthday (부처님 오신 날/석가탄신일, May 6th), and Parents' Day (어버이날, today)! Due to the two consecutive big holidays earlier this week, most people had a four-day weekend. This special confluence doesn't come often, so Koreans call it a "golden holiday" (황금연휴).

I spent day one of my golden holiday at home doing absolutely nothing. I was almost doing the alligator dance (악어춤), an odd idiom that means to wallow in the torpidness of determined inactivity, much like a fat alligator in a mudhole.

On day two, I roused myself and hopped on a bus to Cheonan, where I met up with good friends from around the country to celebrate our days off together. Adventures included "pork wine jazz", hard apple cider and Set, a day trip to Suwon, and, um, more wine. Yes, much alcohol was consumed. But at least it was all classy. Photos to come soon.

Thank you, Buddha, for giving me a few days off! This three-day work week has been lovely. Another weekend is just around the corner. This one won't be golden, but I'll spend it with just as much gusto.

One Night in a Village Somewhere in Laos

Day 8 (Jan. 31): Off the beaten track
I left off last time with scenes from the Mekong slow boat. It's been almost two months since I've written about my trip to Thailand and Laos (and over three months since I actually went). But this weekend, I'm going to see Greg, the American expat teacher I first met in Laos, so I thought it appropriate to write a bit about the circumstances of our acquaintanceship. In a nutshell, we got to know each other well when he convinced me to get off of the boat half a day early and spend the night in a small village in the Laotian jungle, which I absolutely did not regret!

So this was on day two of the Mekong boat trip; the boat left Pakbeng at 9:00am and was scheduled to arrive in Luang Prabang after eight hours. I passed the morning reading, playing Boggle, and chatting with Corine and Ian. Time passed fairly quickly. Around 3:00pm, Greg, who had explained his situation to the captain, pointed out the bend in the river where he knew this village to be and signalled for the boat to stop.

Somewhere in Laos... (taken by Corine as the boat pulled away)

We pulled up close to a huge stack of driftwood on an otherwise nondescript sandy bank and hopped off. Everyone on the boat was staring at us, for obvious reasons. What on earth would two clearly non-local guys be doing disembarking the boat in the middle of nowhere? I didn't really know, myself. I was just tagging along. Greg, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing.

As it turns out, he has been visiting this village regularly, about once every couple of years, since 1999. He's friends with one of the families in the village, a single mother, P, who has five children. Actually, in some ways he's a surrogate dad to them, or maybe like Santa Claus, because he's close with the children and brings them snacks and chocolate milk, photos he's taken on pevious visits, and useful items like medicine, candles, and batteries from the city. I was amazed at the precious relationship he's built with this family over the years. He knows so much about them and fits right in, even though there's a slight language barrier. All the other villagers joke that he should just marry his friend and come to live there permanently, but I think his plan for the future is to open a hostel or small tourism agency in Thailand or Laos and continue supporting and visiting the family a few times a year. Already I have tons of respect for his generosity and heart for people whom he met almost on accident fifteen years ago.

A heart as big as the adorable baby he's holding.

I was honored, then, that Greg invited me to visit the village and see what it was like for myself. His family there enjoys having guests, and they were very generous. I talked with them, took a tour of the village to see its buildings, farms, and infrastructure (e.g. generators powered by several nearby streams), and took tons of photos. We met a group of the village men who weren't working but simply sitting around drinking a very strong liquor they called "Whiskey Lao". It was disgusting, but I smiled through the burning taste and chatted in my very limited Lao. (Basically, "Hello", "How old are you", and "I'm from America".)

The farms are by the river, but the banks change every year as flooding patterns change, so the farms change accordingly.

A hydro-powered generator for the village's limited electricity. They do have TVs!

One of their school's classrooms. Elementary education is provided here, but for middle school and beyond, students must travel to another village downriver.

Machete-made machine gun!

Dinner that evening was an interesting experience. P killed one of their farm's chicken and made a stew with it, accompanied with traditional sticky rice and lettuce. The interesting part of it was actually that we ate by candlelight because the house had no electricity and it got dark very quickly in the mountainous jungle. It was very quiet and peaceful; I don't know if Lao people generally don't talk during meals or if silence was just the modus operandi when Greg came to visit. It seemed like Greg could communicate a lot without saying very much.


After dinner, I broke out the pack of Oreos I'd brought along as a snack and showed the kids how to dunk their Oreos into the milk Greg had brought. I also showed them all the photos of Thailand I'd taken on my camera, let them play with my camera, and tried to teach them how to hand whistle, with limited success. More exciting was thumb-wrestling and Korean-style rock-paper-scissors. I had a great time with the kids! I'm so glad that language is no obstacle when it comes to simply having fun.

Save for the stars, it was pitch black by the time we went to sleep. It was blacker than black, actually. The windows were closed and the lamp was blown out by 10pm. When I lay down and looked up at the ceiling, I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or shut. It was almost scary, because I can't remember ever being in such complete darkness. But it definitely had a soporiferous effect, and I was out soon enough.

And that is how I spent the Lunar New Year of 2014. Happy Year of the Horse!

I may have eaten this angry-looking guy.

Selfies by candlelight!

Day 9 (Feb. 1): At long last, Luang Prabang!
The next morning, I woke up still in completely blackness and was a bit disoriented. At 7:30am, Greg, P, and I left the village and took a local boat -- really a canoe with a motor attached -- down the river toward Luang Prabang. Our skiff stopped at a larger bank where other people were waiting for a larger boat. As it turns out, the Mekong is an avenue, the main channel of transportation for the hundreds of villages that run its length. Small skiffs are like tuk-tuks that take you short distances, and larger boats are like buses. Many people take these river buses to work or to the marketplaces in the city every single day. It was fascinating.

Boat #1. I was really scared I'd topple out of it and into the river.

Boat #2 was like a bus! It was twice as full by the time we reached our destination.

We were packed in a narrow boat that Greg told me was what the Mekong slow boats used to be way back before tourists and backpackers began traveling up- and downriver in huge hordes. I watched a huge variety of people -- ethnic Lao, Burmese, Hmong, and more -- go about their daily morning routine. It was impossible not to bump elbows with P's friends, who happily fed me sticky rice and fried noodles on leaves. They began to joke that I could get a Lao wife from one of their villages for a month's salary, and I politely declined the offer.

By 11am, we had arrived at Luang Prabang -- and in the city proper, not the scammy pier that the slow boat had stopped at. Luang Prabang is charming and lively, almost shockingly so after one night in a small village. I wondered what P's opinion of "city life" was. But it seems that she comes into town fairly often. It's only three hours and two boats away, after all.

Luang Prabang's river pier! The boats are so colorful, and the monks fit right in.

Because of the holiday, the city was overflowing with tourists. It wouldn't have been easy for me to find a guesthouse had I not been with Greg, who knew of a good place with a few open rooms. 80,000kip for a single room and shared bathroom for one night was probably a good price for this season. It was actually really nice to have space completely to myself after a week of close quarters.

I cleaned up, ate lunch, and then set out for a day adventure in the World Heritage City! Next time: temples and tourists, sunsets and splurging on food!

I'd like to see these kids again one day. I wonder how likely that is to haapen?

Fulbright Youth Diplomacy and Activism Conference (YDAC) (& two random holidays)

Dear friends, happy Pepero Day! I got a large chocolate pepero (called "pocky" in Japan and the US) from an anonymous student, and today's lunch included a packet of almond pepero, but otherwise, nothing special yet.

Pepero Day is a day to show a little love... and a lot of consumerist tendencies. The holiday was completely manufactured by snack food companies. What better day than 11/11 to buy your friends and lovers (literally) tons of the sweet stick-shaped crackers and spend money that you could otherwise be donating to...

YDAC! The Youth Diplomacy and Activism Conference, run completely independently by Fulbright teachers in Korea, is held once each semester. Teams of bright and hardworking high school students compete in a day-long series of debates about everything from foreign policy to social issues in their own country. There are four conferences throughout the country, including one in my province. My students do not participate, but my colleagues' students do, and they need your help!

Without warning, YDAC lost its funding for its upcoming fall conference, and its organizers are scrambling to come up with enough money to secure transportation, food, and the venue for the conference, all of which have been completely free for students in the past. Will you help us meet their fundraising goal? About $300 more is needed! There are only 5 days left!

You can contribute to their fundraiser here: click on this link.

That's all for my shameless plug. 안녕!

[edit] I found out from a student today that there's a traditional Korean holiday that also falls on 11/11 but which has been around for quite a bit longer. That holiday is 농업인의 날, or Farmers' Day. Farmer's Day apparently started in the mid 1960s, a few decades earlier than the earliest recorded Pepero Day observance, when livestock and agriculture cooperatives in the northern province of Gangwon-do (a very rural part of the country) got together and... did stuff? They chose the 11th day of the 11th month because in hanja, or Chinese characters, "11" is written as 十一 (shibil/shi2yi1), which can be combined to form 土 (to/tu2), the character for earth or soil.

About a decade ago, when Pepero Day was really taking off, people either 1) didn't like the cultural competition, 2) were concerned about the amount of sugar and empty calories kids were consuming on the day, or 3) both, and launched a campaign to distribute 가래떡 (garaetteok), a kind of long sticky rice cake which, when paired, is also shaped like the number 11, instead of the chocolaty 과자. Hence, 가래떡 데이 vs. 빼빼로 데이. Today, after taekgyeon practice, I received two cute packages of 가래떡, bringing my own 11/11 full circle. Well, tteok is certainly healthier than pepero, but honestly, it's not as good a treat. ;)

가래떡 (garaetteok), squishy cylindrical rice cakes, shaped like the number 11. Happy Garaetteok Day!

휴일

휴일 (hyu-il) means holiday or vacation day. Today is Korea's Foundation Day, when the ancient Gojoseon kingdom was supposedly established by a god who descended upon Baekdu Mountain from heaven. It's a typical origin myth, and while I find the story interesting (there's a part about a bear that ate garlic for a hundred days and turned into a human), I'm only really invested in the day because, as a national public holiday, I got the day off of school. My students didn't; they're stuck on campus for a day of self-studying.

I don't have any plans for the day... aside from the usual sleep in, cook some whatever, upload photos to Facebook, and work on graduate school applications. Here's what I've been up to lately, though:

Fulbright friends!

Wine, cheese, and cookies! And tons more food.

Last weekend, I traveled to Pohang (about two and a half hours away by bus) to visit a fellow Fulbright teacher, who teaches at the Gyeongbuk Science High School. We had organized an informal "wine and cheese social", where we dressed up, discussed art, and networked. Nah, I'm just kidding. We drank crappy wine and ate cookies and pizza, watched Lady Gaga's music videos and talked about our schools and travel plans, and really, it was just an excuse to hang out with friends and pretend to be classy (세련되다) and I have no regrets.

And then this happened.

Katelyn and an apple pie a la mode!

This past Sunday and Monday, my friend Katelyn came to visit. Her school has midterms this week, so she was free to travel, and, aren't I lucky, she decided to travel to Changwon! My first visitor this year. To celebrate, we had a jam session, baked an apple pie (pâte brisée is impossible to make...), watched Glee, and had a fantastic time.

Also, Katelyn visited my school on Monday and left a couple of my classes in awe. We threw together a lesson that consisted mostly of my students asking her questions about her life, and the response was quite positive. Some of my students were more engaged on Monday than they have been all year!

In other news, I've officially begun applying to graduate programs in Linguistics, most of them in California. Writing a personal statement is proving to be difficult, since I don't know for sure what the programs are looking for in an applicant, or how well I stack up. However, I hope to have them all done by the end of November, and then I'll leave it up to God until I hear back in February or March next year.

I also bought a guitar, and I started listening to more K-pop (current favorites: Ailee, Primary, Roy Kim, Akdong Musician, and Miss A). Uh-oh... I wonder how much of a distraction both of these are going to turn out to be!

Thankfulness

Happy Chuseok! Chuseok (추석) is one of Korea's most important national holidays. On this day, almost everything is closed, people go back to their hometowns for family reunions and eat lots of food, and feelings of goodwill abound. Chuseok has been called "Korean Thanksgiving" in reference to the traditional American holiday, but to be honest, the similarities between the two do not run very deep.

That said, I did want to take a moment to be thankful for, well, my life. When I was home last weekend, I got a moment to catch up with a good friend from high school whom I hadn't seen in quite some time. We went to Yogurtland (where else?) and chatted. Bringing each other up to date on the past few years and laying out our thoughts for the coming ones was eye-opening for me in a small but significant way.

I realized that I have so many blessings for which to be thankful: up until now, I have had the fortunes of good health and a good education; right now, I have a job that I love and that brings a steady income; for the future, I'm making plans for graduate school that are slowly but surely taking shape. You know, not everyone can say that they are truly satisfied with their present situation and excited about the future. But I can! And it's humbling, because I know I didn't do anything to deserve any of this. God was just like, "Hey, let's make this kid's life relatively easy, maybe he'll turn out all right." And he did, I think.

So, this Chuseok, I am thankful for the opportunities granted me by Fulbright, for the love and support of my family, for all my friends, who continue to make me into a better person, and for God, who blesses his children all the time for no apparent reason other than fatherly love.

I'm even thankful for jetlag, because it's dragging me to sleep right now -- way before my usual bedtime -- in an apparent effort to get me to sleep at an unusual (for me) albeit appropriate hour. 굿나이트!

July Fourth

Cookies and sparklers!

July 4th didn't happen last year, at least for the eighty of us Fulbrighters. Our plane left Los Angeles on the evening of the third and arrived in Seoul on the fifth. Crossing the International Date Line going west caused us to lose a day, and that day happened to be Independence Day.

My family's usual July 4th tradition is a backyard barbecue at my cousin's place, the one with the swimming pool. Even though I call it a tradition, I realized today from looking back through my Facebook timeline that I haven't celebrated the holiday with my family in many years. In fact, I have not even been in the United States for Independence Day since 2009. That was four years ago. I feel mighty unpatriotic. Ha!

Hanna and Traylor roll out dough with... jars of Skippy. Ha!

This year, I decided to use the holiday as an excuse to give back to my school community. Although I'm not very close with all the teachers, I wanted to show my appreciation for their having taken care of me, given me rides to school, and shown willingness to converse in English, even though it's difficult for most of them. So, yesterday evening, I invited myself over to my friends' place and we had a cookie-baking party! (My homestay does not have an oven.)

Three and a half hours of mixing, cookie-cutting, decorating, and sneaking dough (and spoonfuls of peanut butter and Nutella) later, we had over a hundred cookies. We then ate them. We also lit sparklers! Indoors. Smart, right? One wayward spark burned the new linoleum floor, but it wasn't such a disaster. The cookies were really delicious, and I had a great time with Hannah, Traylor, Tiana, Amy, and Saerom.

Choco-chip, choco-dipped, sprinkles, and 똥 cookies (the Hershey Kiss ones)!

Then, I went to school this morning armed with two giant tupperware containers of cookies and left them in the main 교무실 (teachers' office/lounge) along with a note: 맛있게 드세요! (Eat a lot!) Happy American Independence Day! I also personally left some cookies for the vice principal and two teachers who have been exceptionally kind to me.

I don't mean to brag, but they were a hit. The teachers who were in the office when I left the cookies came over and wondered where they had come from. When I told them that I'd made them myself, they looked shocked. And they all ate quite a few each. When my co-teacher sent out a message to the staff inviting them to the office for cookies, she had to mention "양이 많지는 않으니 선착순..." which means, "There aren't a whole lot, so first come, first served."

Actually, here is the rest of her message; I'm reproducing it because it amuses me: 앤드류샘이 맛있는 쿠키를 구워 오셨습니다. 오늘이 바로 그 유명한 July, the fourth!라고 미국독립기념일이라. 인디언들에게는 슬펐을지 모르나 암튼 좋은 날입니다.^^ 직접 만들었다는데 맛이 좋습니다. 허나...

Translation: "Teacher Andrew brought some tasty cookies he baked, as today is the famous "July, the fourth!", or American Independence Day. Perhaps the Indians were sad, but anyway, it's a great day. [happy emoticon] He made them himself, so they're delicious. (But... first come, first served)"

I got several messages from teachers later, kindly thanking me for the cookies. Later, I intimated to my co-teacher that if there's enough money in the budget next semester, I'd like a convection oven for my apartment so that I can bake tons more cookies for everyone. If I could, I would totally be that guy.

Happy Fourth of July! 미국 독립 기념일 축하합니다! (Mi-guk Tongnip Kinyeom-il chukha-hamnida)

On that note, it has now been one year since I left the States to begin my Fulbright adventure in South Korea. Look, two blog posts from one year ago: July 4th and July 5th, 2012. My, how time flows like running water. (시간이 유수와 같이 빠르다!)

현충일 - Memorial Day

Korean Memorial Day is June 6th. Everyone is on holiday, so I didn't have to go to school. Instead, I went on a hike with tutors and students from the community center Korean class that I've been attending once a week for the past year. It was my first time in Jinhae, one of the three older cities that makes up the incorporated city of Changwon.

Three awesome things: the weather was great; hot, but not too uncomfortable, which means that summer's really here. Second, the food that people packed for a picnic was also great -- I had 떡만두 (rice cake dumplings) and rice balls for the first time. Also, the really nice Chinese couple invited everyone over to their apartment afterward for watermelon and beer.

Canada, China, England, United States, Korea. Hiking in Jinhae!

The last awesome thing was the language exchange that happened. There was a very diverse group of hikers today: about half were Korean, but there were also representatives of Canada, England, the US (that's me), China, Taiwan, and Russia. I communicated in English, Chinese, Taiwanese, and Korean, and it was excellent practice. Although the state of my spoken Chinese is pretty dismal after two years of almost no practice, I was able to stumble through extended conversations with the Chinese couple and the Taiwanese exchange students (who, when they discovered that I can also speak Taiwanese, albeit with an overbearing American accent, proceeded to switch to that instead).

As for Korean, I realized today when I struck up a conversation with one of the Korean tutors whom I hadn't met before that my Korean skills have improved vastly since I arrived in this country. I couldn't say much more than my name and "I love you" before, but the immersion has truly helped. I'm grateful for the amazing opportunity I've had this past year to learn an almost-completely new language, and I'm still determined to become fluent before I leave.

석가탄신일과 송광사 - Buddha's Birthday and Songgwangsa

At Songgwangsa, this small stream with lanterns strung above it was one of the first sights we came across. It was breathtaking.

A nice three-day weekend is winding down for me. I was a bit more spontaneous than usual, probably owing to the fact that there was a national holiday, which called for doing something out of the ordinary, and that with only two months left in this grant year, I'm running out of time to spend with a lot of people I love...

So on Friday morning, which was Buddha's birthday on the lunar calendar, I set out from Changwon to bus across the peninsula to Suncheon (순천), where I met up with some Fulbrighters for a quick lunch before we took a taxi to Songgwangsa, one of Korea's most famous temples. Songgwangsa (송광사) was first built in the late Silla (신라) dynasty, about 1200 years ago, and has been renovated eight times until the present. It is known for producing many learned Buddhist scholars as well as being a major pilgrimage site.

A woman baptizing a boy Buddha statue in celebration of Buddha's Birthday.

My friends and I arrived in the afternoon and, after picnicking on 김밥, took a nice, slow meander around the temple grounds. It was a beautiful place, although it was not peaceful but bustling due the crowds of visitors on the special day: Buddha's Birthday (석가탄신일). There were special performances going on, and lots of families were there, the children being entertained by the same food trucks and small carnival game stalls that you see at most festivals. What with all the activity, the shows, and the colorful lanterns, it seemed more like we were at a carnival than at a "Jewel Temple of Korea".

The view of the mountains from a higher point on the temple grounds was quite beautiful.

However, on the outskirts of the temple, farther away from the crowds, there were quieter areas and gorgeous mountain scenery. My friends and I found a small stream and chilled there for a while. We spent most of our afternoon at the temple silently taking in all the sights and sounds and chatting with each other. It was perfect, really.

In truth, I wasn't at the temple to learn about Buddhism (불교) or even try to score free 비빔밥. I just wanted to spend time with my friends. The four that I hung out with this weekend have all chosen not to renew their contracts, which means that after July, they are going back to the US permanently, and I might not see them again for a long time. I tried not to think about that.

Julia, Maggie, Cecile, and Adam doing their best impressions of bamboo.

When it was time to go, they convinced me to go to Gwangju (광주) with them instead of turning around and heading back to Changwon. Feeling in the mood for some holiday spontaneity, I decided to spend the night in Gwangju; we ate dinner at the First Alleyway (Gwangju's little slice of North America in the middle of the downtown) and then watched The Great Gatsby. It was... great! More colorful and dynamic than the temple, even. I am going to re-read the book as soon as I get the chance.

So, I had a good start to the weekend on Friday, although the travel wore me out. I'm quite used to spending hours on a bus, now: Masan to Suncheon is 1h40m (; Suncheon to Songgwangsa is 1h30m (and ₩42,000 for the taxi fare); Songgwangsa to Gwangju on the direct shuttle is 1h30m (and ₩7,500). And those times are all not including traffic, which was plentiful on the holiday weekend.

Next up: the Boseong Green Tea Festival!

스승의날 - Teachers' Day

The bell rang; students were in their desks. Then, HJ called out, "1, 2, 3!"

Then, everyone started singing. In Korean.

I stood at the front of the room, kind of dumbfounded for a second. And then, I realized that it was Teachers' Day today, and this must be some sort of tradition. They kept singing.

I broke into a smile then, not quite sure what else to do. I chuckled a bit. They kept singing, everyone in my class except for DK, who was fast asleep at his desk. It was a nice-sounding song, but I didn't understand a word.

When they finished (probably after a minute, although it awkwardly felt like much longer), TS ran up, handed me a small cake in a paper cup, and said, "This is for you, for Teachers' Day!"

"Wow," I said. "Thank you so much, everyone! I was very surprised. Okay, class, what is today's date?"

- - -

So, today was Teachers' Day in Korea. The holiday has quite a few traditions here, including singing that song, buying gifts of flowers (carnations or whole baskets and bouquets) and rice cakes, calling and sending letters to teachers from your past, and otherwise showering all teachers with love and attention. It seems quite different from the Teacher Appreciation Day I know of in the US. Actually, I don't recall ever doing anything very special for any of my teachers in high school or college, and now I'm a bit ashamed.

But anyway, Teachers' Day is a big deal here. They say that the most important and respected people in olden times were kings, parents, and teachers. Evidently that sentiment has held up until today. Some of my colleagues, who have been teaching for years, received gifts from not only their current students (and their current students' parents), but also from some of their students from years and years ago. The entire school was overflowing with baskets of flowers, rice cakes, and even legit cakes from bakeries or Baskin-Robbins.

A cake given to one of my co-teachers by a student (or, rather, given by his parents). It's a gorgeous cake, pure white, with carnations on top. The text says "선생님! 감사합니다." (Teacher! Thank you.) and the student's name. It may or may not be a ploy to curry favor.

During lunch, all the students stood up in the cafeteria to sing that same Korean song to all of the teachers. Throughout the day, you could hear cheers and singing coming from different classrooms as the students tried to surprise their teachers. I certainly was surprised by today's serenade. In addition to this sweet gift, I also received a boutonniere -- there was one for every teacher -- and a NASA pen from a student, IS, who had just returned from a science competition in Houston, where he had won a bronze medal.

But the best gift by far was a small note from one of my quietest students, who happens to be in my lowest-level class. TH usually sits alone and doesn't seem to like to talk to anybody, let alone me. In fact, sometimes I get vibes from him that indicate he'd rather be anywhere else but in my classroom.

At the end of class today, when TH turned in his worksheet, he tried to slip it into the bottom of the pile, and I noticed that he'd written something in the margin.

It reads: <Thank You teacher.> I think it was hard decision to you to stay other country and teach other country student. However, you did greatly, and many students are happy in this class. I have met many foreign teacher, but you was the greatest teacher. thank you

Together, on three: 1, 2, 3! D'awwwww! 감동하네요!

Oh, and also, this student thinks one of the most important global issues (today's lesson topic) is language endangerment! I have no idea how he even knows what that is, but I am impressed. And I am touched by his note. It really is the best gift I could receive. The mini-tiramisu comes in a close second.

To all teachers, in Korea, the US, or anywhere in the world: Happy Teachers' Day! Keep on doing what you do so well, and never let discouragement overshadow the joy of making a positive impact in a student's life.

Parents' Day

Here is a corny Konglish joke I just made up: What would a particularly excitable mother or father say on May 8th of every year?

Answer: "어버이!" (Oh boy!)

Hee. Okay, so today is 어버이날 (eo-beo-i nal), or Parents' Day, in South Korea. Originally transplanted from the US as Mothers' Day, fathers were allowed in on the celebrations starting from about forty years ago, and the tradition has stuck since then. Children give their parents gifts, the most common being a red carnation (빨간 카네이션) as a brooch, basket, or bouquet. But like many other holidays in Korea, this one has also been mega-commercialized.

My own host family has been particularly low-key on the celebrations lately. May 5th, just a few days ago, was Children's Day (어린이날), when families go out on picnics (소풍) and other nice excursions, but my host siblings stayed at home and studied. They said they were too old (middle- and high school-aged) for Children's Day. And today, well, not much of interest occurred. My host sister found me at school during passing period and asked me to deliver a card she had made to her parents. I did, and in addition, got a small, pretty carnation plant and a basket of kiwifruit to go along with it. In the words of my host brother (who says this every day when I ask him how his day went), "Nothing special." But I know my host parents appreciated the sentiment.

몇일 전 5월5일에 어린이날였어요. 대부분 사람이 가족 함께 소풍 하는데, 우리 홈스테이 동생들이 집에 머물고 공부했어요. 이제 어린이 아니기때문에 어린이날 못 축하한다고 말했어요. 그리고 오늘 5월8일 어버이날 인데, 보통날였어요. 홈스테이 여동생은 학교에서 저를 만났고 저에게 손으로 만든 카드를 부모님께 드린다고 부탁을 했어요. 했고 이 뿐 만 아니라 작은 예쁜 빨간 카네이션과 키위를 홈스테이 부모님께 드렸어요. 대체로, 그냥 하루였지만 홈스테이 부모님 고마워할것 같아요.

P.S. In class today, I was working on acrostic poems with my first-years. One of them happened to recall a cute acrostic she'd heard before:

Father
And
Mother
I
Love
You

That said, time to call my actual 부모님, if they're awake, and wish them a happy Parents' Day!

Labor Day

It's hard to love my students sometimes. I came to this school with only a few goals: help my students with their English and help them learn to respect people -- themselves and others -- for who they are. I knew that in order to succeed, I'd need a lot of patience and a lot of love. But there are days when my patience wears thin, and there are days when I simply can't see what there could possibly be in these kids to love.

I almost never punish my students, because they're generally extremely well-behaved. Before I arrived at my advanced science high school, one of a few dozen in the country where students are renowned for their diligence and respectfulness, I was cheerily informed that the extent of my discipline problems would be students nodding off in my class due to fatigue from studying late into the night. This has proven to be singularly untrue. Rowdiness exists at CSHS just as it does at every other high school in the country -- or in the world -- and I have to confess that it's taking its toll on my psyche.

In fact, one of my second-year classes is well on its way to driving me nuts. I have them fifth period, right after lunch, and sometimes half the class walks in late from pick-up basketball games, prolonged bathroom breaks, or who knows what other reason. They then proceed to sleep through class (if they spent their lunch time running around outside) or act like a circus (if they consumed one too many sugary snacks), and nobody seems to remember or care that in my English class, you must speak English.

Today, after I finally shooed them out of the room (having held them back a few minutes as a punishment for tardiness), I slumped down in my chair and began to dream up wonderful new ways to punish the class for any possible future cases of bad behavior. I'm being completely honest here; it gave me a perverse sense of satisfaction, knowing that I had a "Plan B" ready to unleash. It's almost as if I actually want these students to make me snap, just so I can see the look on their faces when I stop the video or shut down the game and make them write sentences for an entire hour. Cue the evil laugh... have I lost it?

I don't know, really. I mean, I have to remember that compared to some of the other schools where my Fulbright colleagues teach, every single day at CSHS is still a walk in the park. I've got to count my blessings: at least my students understand the words that come out of my mouth. At least they don't beat each other up in class. At least they respect me enough to be quiet when I give them my teacher glare and know when enough is enough. But when I think about how other teachers have done the hard discipline thing time and again, to the point that it has become routine, I fancy that it wouldn't hurt for me to get a bit tougher on my students, too. I don't want them to think that my class is essentially a free period or an irrelevant elective -- even if it technically is -- because with that mindset, how will they ever be motivated to learn?

On the other hand, I'm fully aware that I am fallible and easily susceptible to being manipulated by my own emotions. For real, though: I actually felt myself getting angrier and angrier as I sat in my chair after class, not because I had just survived such a train wreck, but in truth because I was thinking purely negative thoughts, conjuring up hypotheticals, and it was like a maelstrom of discontent. Realizing this, I tried to shake it off by going to the weight room to work out. I also happened across a volleyball game under way in the gym, with some of my schools' teachers playing against teachers from another school in a union tournament. Rooting for my school alongside my fellow teachers -- 아자아자 화이팅! -- did a lot to cheer me up (although I wish I could have been playing in the game myself!).

Do you know what really helps, though? To counter an adverse incident with one student, the best remedy is a great conversation with another. Today, at lunch, I had the good fortune of sitting down with YJ to chat. He's a first-year student who often speaks up in class, but I'd never realized the depths to which his mind probes until he asked me, right off the bat, "Teacher, what do you do when you repeatedly fail something? When you're 'in a rut'? Do you have any advice?"

I was taken aback. Also, the two other first-years with whom we were sitting instantly tuned out. This was beyond their comprehension level. "Well," I told YJ, "If you are stuck in a rut, you can take a step back, re-evaluate the situation, and then change something." We continued to talk about overcoming obstacles, and the conversation moved to "life codes" -- his is taken from The Man of La Mancha (a musical based off of Don Quixote): "To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to reach the unreachable star." We also discussed university life in the US and whether it was actually true that Harvard students streak across campus once a year. I said, "Well, I don't know, because I didn't go to Harvard, but I would not be surprised if they did."

After lunch, YJ thanked me for the chat, and I thought, "Any time, buddy!" I left feeling impressed with him, as well as simply grateful that I had had such a pleasant lunch. I love to talk with my students outside of class, and I am always reminded when I do that my students really are incredibly smart. It's admittedly difficult for me to remember this, since in my class, even the brightest physics wizard might struggle to utter a single coherent sentence in English. I'm reminded of the words of a fellow Fulbrighter, Kelly, who warned me never to "assume that [my] students are not capable of critical thinking" simply on account of the language barrier. They possess so much genius, but a lack of confidence in English has hidden most of it from me. Sigh...

Anyway, I'm trying to stay cautious about my attitude toward the students who frustrate me. I want to remain positive and continue fulfilling my role as the super-encouraging foreign English teacher whose class is fun, engaging, and effective, but I want to make sure that my students don't take this for granted, either. If they do, and it gets on my nerves, then I have to remember to remain professional and light-hearted, too. None of this "화가난다!!!" business. But hey readers: if you have any advice, I'm all ears!

In closing, it's May 1st. Happy Korean Labor Day! I asked my co-teacher why we teachers didn't get the day off for the holiday, unlike the rest of the nation. She replied with a small laugh, "Because we're not laborers." Well, although my work definitely seems laborious sometimes, I guess I have to agree. My job is to nurture, equip, and support my students, no matter what. Teachers don't labor, they love.

Yaenoeul Choir Concert and Easter

Yaenoeul Choir (얘노을 합창단) at their 12th annual concert. Can you spot the white guy?

My friend and fellow Fulbrighter Adam has busied himself this past year with teaching at a large middle school, studying taekwondo, and singing in a choir. I thought that that alone was cool. But then I learned that this choir was, like, seriously legit: directed by a famous Korean maestro and everything. And I learned that Adam was the first foreigner to sing with them in their illustrious twelve year history. Dang! All of this made me even more excited that I was going to their annual concert!

The choir rehearses all year for just one performance. (One large performance, for an audience of thousands.) Their repertoire was incredibly vast: one set of traditional choral pieces, one set of arranged Korean songs, one set of gospel music and spirituals, and one set of modern pop music done in glamorous show choir fashion. Ten of us Fulbrighters came to support Adam, watched him rock the bass parts like a boss, and squealed in delight when he stepped out to deliver solo lines as Javert in the final piece, "One Day More" from Les Mis.

The whole thing really was wonderful. As Cecile put it, if there were anything that really epitomized the notion of "cultural exchange" that we Fulbrighters are supposed to promote, it's this talented white guy from the States taking part in a first-rate performance that itself represented a hodgepodge of cultures and musical styles. Good feels all around, not least due to the quality of the music that night.

Adam's in the center, with the black bag. On his right is his conductor, a nice man with a magnificent perm. Surrounded by friends!

Videos will come soon, I promise.

Well, after the concert, we all went out for dinner and drinks (extremely late, just like the day before). I had "scoop pizza", a ridiculous concoction of dough, cheese, bacon, and French fries, that was heavenly and quite sinful at the same time. So much cheese... We stayed at the restaurant until after midnight, and back at the hostel, I chatted with Adam, Julia, and Alanna until four in the morning. Ridiculous. No wonder I've been so drained this week...

On Sunday afternoon (Easter!), I went to church at Dongshin's English service. There, I met up with Jaeyeon and Bridget, and we also ran into Megan, whom I did not expect to see there! The Easter service was really nice, like a breath of fresh air. It felt great to sing and worship and feel a bit of joy again, after so many weeks of going through the motions, in a sense. I think Megan is very lucky to have a large and vibrant church community in her city. I do have a church community in Changwon, but it's not quite the tight-knit family that Megan seems to have found. Well, I'm not going to complain. The visit was really nice, anyhow.

Me, Jaeyeon, Bridget, and Megan at Dongshin. If we look a bit tired... you know why.

Then, it was time for goodbyes! I'd already parted ways with most of the dozens of friends I'd met over the weekend, but for all of us it was only a brief valediction, since this weekend we will all gather again for spring conference on Jeju Island! Woohoo! It's going to be great.

The Story of Passover

Passover (유월절/Yuwol-jeol) is the week-long Jewish holiday that commemorates the escape of the ancient Israelites from slavery in Egypt. For my entire life, cognizance and even a basic understanding of what this holiday is all about has been prevented due to the timing overlap between Passover and Good Friday, the day when Christians remember the crucifixion of Christ. I have studied Judaism and I have many Jewish friends, but even I don't know much more than the average Christian about Passover. This year, however, I had planned -- long before I knew when Easter would be -- to go out of town to visit a Fulbright friend for a concert, and when I heard that he was going to celebrate Passover with other Fulbrighters, I invited myself along. I wanted to see what a Passover Seder was like, and I enjoy opportunities to embrace all things interfaith.

As it turns out, the small cohort of Jewish Fulbrighters had been planning a Passover get-together for quite a while. Although it would have been impossible to get together during the week, Friday night was open as an ideal time for us all. In the weeks and days beforehand, several of my friends had been preparing a menu, a haggadah, and making huge batches of food in advance. All I had to do was show up the evening of (it was a ninety-minute bus ride from Masan for me, and I left right after my last class of the day) and pitch in in the kitchen before we began the seder. (Due to long commutes and schedules running late, this was not until 11pm.)

Preparing chocolate-covered matzoh. (taken by Kaley)

This was my first seder, so I did not know how long it would take, but I got the feeling when we began that we were going to up for a while. We used a modern haggadah that emphasized peace and social justice and was distinctly pro-American and secular Humanist. One line from the invitation really struck me: "We remember together tonight because we are Jews and friends of Jews, and feel connected to the historic roots of Judaism." Because of this, I -- and the other several non-Jews present -- felt instantly welcomed into the traditional celebration.

Then, there was singing in Hebrew that I didn't know or understand, and there were lots of symbolic gestures involving different foods that I don't quite remember, but I still enjoyed it. One of the nicest things about the seder was that it was definitely one for friends: friends getting together in a foreign country who came from very different traditions (Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Reformed, Christian, atheist, whatever). It was very exemplary of the diaspora.

Another part that was quite interesting -- to me as well as to the other Jews there who had not used this kind of haggadah before -- was the Spilling of the Wine. Traditionally, the ten plagues of Egypt are recounted in this section of the seder. In addition to these, this haggadah added ten "modern plagues" that still afflict humanity today, including hunger, war, crime, racism, homophobia, pollution, and indifference to human suffering. Yeah -- very humanist. But also humbling and a good reminder of the hope and change that religions are meant to bring to the world.

In between the solemn moments and rituals, there was a lot of laughter and joking, which I thought was great. More traditional seders are exceedingly somber, as I've been told, and I'm glad the one I attended was very chill. I think the wine helped. As it were, we did not begin eating the actual meal until sometime around one in the morning, and the night petered out around three. (How European of us.)

Our amazing Passover feast! 맛있다!

Did I mention that the food was delicious? Adam is an excellent cook; he made potato pancakes and some excellent sauces for the meat dishes. Alanna took care of the matzoh ball soup, and there was also Israeli salad and a spinach and mango sautée. Not to forget dessert, we had dark chocolate-covered matzoh with salt and chopped almonds, charoset (which is not supposed to be a dessert per se, but...), and a charoset-inspired ice cream with wine-poached apples.

In short, I'm not going to forget this meal for a long, long time. It was that good.

Fulbright 친구, 유대인 and otherwise, at the hostel where we celebrated Passover.

Vocabulary
유월절 (Yuwol-jeol): Passover
유대교 (Yudaegyo): Judaism
유대인 (Yudae-in): Jew
성금요일 (Seong Geumyo-il): Good Friday (Holy Friday)

P.S. I studied a bit of Ancient Hebrew in college, and attending this Passover Seder motivated me to practice my very rusty transliteration skills by re-writing the Hebrew portions in my haggadah using the Hebrew alphabet -- or, at least, trying to. It made me miss my Hebrew class very much.

Hebrew Vocabulary
Seder (סֵדֶר‎): a Jewish ceremonial dinner, held on Passover, from the word which means "order".
Haggadah (הַגָּדָה): the liturgy for Passover which explains the origin of the holiday.
Charoset (חֲרֽוֹסֶת): chopped nuts, apples, spices, and wine. A dish that represents the mortar used by the Hebrew slaves.
Yayin (יין): wine! P'ri ha'gafen!
Pesach (פֶּסַח): the Hebrew word for Passover, from the word which means "skip".
Afikoman (אפיקומן): the larger of two pieces of matzoh ritually broken, set aside to be eaten at the end of the meal. Until that time, it is hidden and then looked for by the children of a household for a prize. From either a Greek word meaning "dessert" or a different Greek word that refers to the coming Messiah.

Happy Easter!

Christ is risen!

Happy Easter, everyone. I have not been able to find an equivalent for that English, phrase. However, 부활절 (Buhwal-jeol), or Resurrection Day, is the Korean word for Easter.

I just returned from a fantastic weekend in Daegu, where I celebrated Passover with some Jewish friends, attended the annual concert of a Korean choir featuring a fellow Fulbrighter, made new friends, went shopping, and celebrated Easter at an international church.

It's late now, and while I'd like to write about the entire weekend, I actually have a bit of lesson planning to do. So, I'll be updating with photos and stories over the next few days.

In the meantime, please enjoy this photo of some cherry blossoms (벚꽃/beotggot). Easter is a celebration of resurrection and of life being renewed. All over Korea, the flowers are now in full bloom and spring is definitely here.

Cherry blossoms (벚꽃) in Changwon.

종려주일 - Palm Sunday

Hosanna! It's Palm Sunday, but I could easily have missed it. I woke up a little bit late this morning and considered not going to church on account of my tardiness. In addition, I knew that today would be a special joint service for Communion with the main church which hosts the international para-church that I go to. This meant the entire service would be in Korean, with interpretation provided. I didn't know what to expect from this, and I wasn't 100% willing to go. But I went anyway, and I even enjoyed it, so there I go again, proving myself wrong.

Here in Changwon, I've been attending Hanbit International Christian Fellowship, which is not a church, but a para-church that is maintained by Hanbit Presbyterian Church. Services are conducted entirely in English and take place on Sunday mornings at the same time as one of the main branch's services.

This is why I've never had the opportunity to see what the big church itself is like for the past six months (since I arrived in this city) until today.

It's legit: they have a choir, big screens, over a dozen people in their worship band, and three floors to accommodate all their congregants. They also serve sponge cake as the bread for Communion (heh). Most importantly, they had a simultaneous interpreter for the entirety of the service, narrating the order of worship and translating all of the pastor's words through a headset given to every somewhat-confused foreigner. She did very well, considering the demanding nature of an interpreter's job.

I had a hard time following the songs, though, since they were being sung too fast for me to understand the lyrics, and too loud for me to hear the interpreter explaining the meaning. But the sermon was good. The pastor showed a clip from the recent Les Mis movie and talked about how it is difficult for some people to accept grace when it is given to them. Jean Valjean accepted grace (and mercy) from Monseigneur Bienvenu and dramatically turned his life around as a result. Javert, on the other hand, was granted his freedom by Jean Valjean, and it caused him such deep internal conflict that he committed suicide.

The pastor compared the two characters to Peter and Judas in the Gospels, where Peter disowns Jesus (Matthew 26) but is later forgiven and goes on to become the founder of the Church, but Judas, who was "seized with remorse" after betraying Jesus (Matthew 27), tried to undo his actions, was refused by the high priests, and then hanged himself. ...

Hm, actually, I'm beginning to question the parallel being drawn here, especially because Judas wasn't shown grace by anyone. He's always painted as a pure villain who deserved what he got. Javert, on the other hand, is Valjean's antagonist but he's not a villain. He's not evil. He's just fanatically devoted to an impossible ideal of justice.

Okay, well, this is beside the point. The point is we must be able to accept grace even when we know we don't deserve a shred of forgiveness, otherwise our lives will never change. Christians can go around saying they love God all day, but you know they haven't really accepted the reality if their actions don't reflect God's grace at work in them. If you can receive grace, like Valjean, you can live with peace and love and do great things. If you can't receive grace, like Javert, then... it may be difficult to live at all.

... Oof. And I was expecting a typical Palm Sunday sermon about joy and rescue and donkeys and kids with big leaves dancing around, but hey.

So that is how church went today. I tried very hard to use the simultaneous interpretation to pick up some new words or phrases, but it was difficult because of the delay. Instead, I flipped through the program and listened closely to the songs to pick up new vocabulary:

십자가 (shipjaga) means "cross", like the shape or Jesus' cross.

귀하고 귀하다 (kwihago kwihada) means "scarce and precious", and it seems to be used most often in reference to the idea of "amazing grace", especially in the Korean translation of the famous hymn.

예수의 피 밖에 없네 (yesuye pi bakke eomne) means "nothing but the blood of Jesus", again taken from a line in a hymn. It seems rather unfortunate that the Korean word for "blood" sounds like the English word for "urine", doesn't it? :\

종려주일 (jongryeo ju-il) means "Palm Sunday"!

Have a blessed Holy Week (성주간/Sungjugan)!

Valentine's blah blah whatever

February 14th is Valentine's Day in many countries. Most cultures celebrate with customs of gift-giving and symbols of love, either romantic, platonic, or familial. It's no surprise to me that Valentine's Day is very popular in Korea. At least, it's popular among the younger generations. Mostly high school students, actually. High school girls. They're the demographic behind Korea's obsession with all things cutesy and chocolaty.

The tradition nowadays is for girls to give gifts (chocolate, usually) to their boyfriends on February 14th. Do the boys give gifts, too? They're apparently not obligated to this time. But come March 14th, it's "White Day", the time for boys to reciprocate their romantic feelings and buy their girlfriends candy... or other, perhaps more expensive, gifts.

It doesn't stop there. May 14th is Rose Day, for couples to give each other roses. July 14th is Silver Day, for couples to give each other silver rings and other jewelry. October 14th is Wine Day. Thanks to rampant consumerism, Korea now has a "Special Day" on the fourteenth of every month. And they're not just for couples. April 14th is Black Day, a day for singles to eat black soybean-paste noodles (jjajangmyeon, which I personally find delicious) and commiserate over their singleness.

(For a detailed explanation of all twelve Special Days -- plus one that doesn't fall on a fourteenth -- click here!)

I think all of this is hilarious, but also a little bit too heteronormative for my taste. Also, I've never celebrated Valentine's Day myself, and although I am totally for doing cute things for your loved ones, I don't think very highly of building an entire industry out of it. Case in point, the United States. I'm glad I missed out on the pink and red hearts adorning every store display at the mall. At least the tacky decorations aren't as ubiquitous here in Seoul. Or maybe it's just because I'm avoiding the most popular shopping districts. Anyway, it's the epitome of Korea-cute to have all of these Special Days for couples, and Valentine's is the king of them all. So what am I doing tonight?

Well, February 14th happens to be my friend Kristen's birthday, so my apartmentmates and I are going out to celebrate with dinner and then go to Acoustic Holic, which I haven't written about yet but will soon because it's aaaawwweeesome. I'm excited to be going again tonight. And I'll buy myself my own chocolate (tomorrow, when it's all on sale), thank you very much.

Happy Lunar New Year!

Yesterday was Seollal, the Korean Lunar New Year! This differs only from "Chinese" New Year in that it is celebrated differently by a different culture; the date, however, is the same.

The word Seollal is 설날 in Korean. If you can read Hangul, the Korean alphabet, then you might notice that the individual syllables are seol (설) and nal (날). Seol refers to the new year, and nal means "day". Hence, New Year's Day. However, in Korean phonology, an syllable-initial "n" that follows a syllable-final "l" becomes elided or assimilated into the "l". Thus, instead of Seolnal, we celebrate Seollal.

To wish someone a Happy New Year in Korean, however, you don't even have to worry about linguistics. The traditional New Year's greeting is 새해 복 많이 받으세요. Let's break this down: 새해 (saehae) is another way to refer to the new year, using the native Korean words for "new" (새/sae) and "year" (해/hae). Next, 복 (bok) means "happiness", and 많이 (man-hee) means "much". Lastly, 받으세요 (padeuseyo) is a respectable way to ask someone to receive something. So, 새해 복 많이 받으세요, or Saehae bok manhee padeuseyo, means, "May you receive lots of new year's happiness (or blessings)!"

So, what did I do for Seollal? Well, the Korean tradition is to travel to see your family, make and eats lots of food, and perform some ancestral rights. In fact, it's very similar to the customs of Chuseok, only with different food and a different vibe. Chuseok is the most important Korean holiday, and pretty much everything shuts down invariably. Seollal is probably holiday number two. It's a bit more festive, less solemn, and also observed less. Maybe this is because I was in Seoul this time, but a lot more businesses and restaurants were open than I'd expected, and the city in general seemed no less empty than on any other Sunday morning.

On Sunday morning, my apartmentmates and I all woke up rather late and straggled to a lunch date at The Flying Pan Blue. This place is arguably one of the most famous restaurants (for tourists) in Seoul. It's located in Itaewon, the international district of the city, and specializes in European-style breakfast and brunch. By European-style breakfast, I mean eggs, pancakes, French toast, and delicious lattes. Although the meal was pricey, I think it was well worth it. Every time one of our dishes was brought out, everyone gasped, oohed, and aahed at how pretty it was, and how wonderful it would feel to have that deliciousness soon in our stomachs. And yes, it was delicious.

Mandu-making. Photo courtesy Jessica.

For dinner that night, we went to a fellow Fulbrighter's apartment for a mandu-making party. Mandu (만두) are Korean dumplings. Well, they're just dumplings. I guess what makes them Korean is that they're made in Korea, and they have kimchi in them.

Anyway, this little New Year's get-together was so much fun! Jessica and Connor got a ton of ingredients (dumpling skins, ground beef, mushrooms, rice noodles, veggies, kimchi, peppers, and more), gave us the low-down on how to properly fold a dumpling, and we all sat down on the ground to make them together. I've only made dumplings once before in my life, so mine weren't great.

They say that if your dumplings are ugly, then your future daughters are doomed to the same fate. We had a lot of fun predicting the various levels of misery we were all going to inflict on our progeny.

In the end, our company produced over six dozen lumpy, floury, misshapen, and delicious dumplings that we then cooked with 딱국 (rice cake soup) or pan-fried to crispy perfection. Then, we ate them all. And we also had wine and cake. Now if that doesn't make for a great dinner party, I don't know what does.

Our first batch of mandu!

And that was New Year's Day. But as is typical for Korean holidays, it stretches out over some time. My host family actually traveled from Changwon to Seoul for the new year, and this morning (Monday), they were still around. So, they invited me over to my host mother's mother's apartment in the northern part of the city for lunch. We had 만두떡국 (manu ddeokguk/dumpling rice cake soup), which is a traditional new year dish and other stuff. It was nice to see them on the holiday again. And now, I've met the extended family of my homestay family on both sides!

Happy New Year! 운수대통합니다! It's the year of the snake on the Chinese zodiac. So hiss a bit when you greet your Korean friends: ㅆ~새해 복 많이 받으ㅆ~세요! Okay, that was lame, I know.