Changwon Meets Berkeley

When I left the school where I taught in Korea back in June of 2014, I gave a small speech to my students that included what has become a life motto of sorts: "This isn't a 'goodbye', but a 'see you later'." I never promised that I'd return to Korea after one year to visit, but then I did. And none of my students promised that they'd come to California, but then one did!

My student JH, who wanted to be called by his English name in my class, is in the middle of his second year at a prestigious science and technology university in Korea, but he decided to spend a semester abroad as an exchange student at UC Berkeley, where I am now doing my graduate studies! This guy is going to become an electrical engineer or have some other kind of brainiac career, but for a few months he is going to study comparative literature, German, and art alongside some of California's brightest students at the world's best public university.

I'm so glad that I've kept in touch with many of my former students through Facebook, because I don't think I would have heard that JH was coming here if I hadn't. But when I did find out, I was ecstatic. I mean, I know it's not easy for Korean students to go abroad: they might have the ambition, but not the requisite English skills or the money to afford it. Most of Changwon Science High School's alumni believe that their earliest chances of coming to the States for their education will be for graduate school or even post-doctoral programs.

But one way or another, JH found himself in sunny California two weeks ago, rode the BART from SFO to Berkeley's campus, and has already had several orientations and three days of classes. I met up with him yesterday and we had a great conversation about all of the bits of culture shock he's experienced so far and what he plans to do during his short stay here.

We had lunch at Bleecker Street Bistro, where he had his first avocado ("It kind of tastes like potato; I like it.") and remarked that the way Americans say "please" and "thank you" all the time was really impressive (I told him we're nothing compared to Canada). In Berkeley, he is amazed by the weather ("I heard that it never rains.") and by the way cars come to full stops to allow pedestrians to cross the street, and he is unsure what to do about panhandlers, since they can be more aggressive here than they are in Korea.

I was excited to hear about his classes and told him I wanted to make sure he had the best semester possible. "I'm not your teacher, anymore," I said, "but I can still help you. Here's my phone number; call or text me if you ever have a problem." When I taught him, JH's English skills were at the top of his class -- discounting his peers who had actually lived abroad in English-speaking countries -- but he still admitted that he felt completely lost during his first comp lit lecture. Well... I'll be honest; I felt the same way in my freshman English seminar way back when. I hope that this is just the first of many ways JH and I can connect in the coming months.

Changwon Science High School meets UC Berkeley! What a fantastic reunion! :)

JH and me in front of Berkeley's famous Sather Gate

Until Next Time

I was tempted to make a list of the things I regret not having had time to do during this summer that I've spent in South Korea. But I thought better of it. A more positive use of my time would be to count all my blessings from the past ten weeks, short as they were.

저는 이번 여름을 한국에서 지냈는데 시간이 없어서 못 했던 것에 대해 생각 하고 싶었지만 하지 않기로 했다. 대신, 이 10주간 축복들을 회상하는 건 할 가치 더 있다고 생각한다.

I lived on my own and I learned so much. My understanding of the Korean language and culture have progressed as much as I had anticipated, if not more.

저는 혼자서 살았고 많이 배웠다. 제가 한국말과 한국문화를 이해하기가 생각 만큼 (아니면 생각 보다) 나았다.

I had reunions both planned and unexpected; all brought me joy. I made many new friends from many different countries and reconnected with old ones, too.

친구를 만나는 건 예상한 것도 있고, 우연히 만나는 것도 있고, 다 좋아했다. 여러 나라에서 온 새로운 친구들을 많이 사귀었고 예전의 친구들을 다시 만났다.

I watched a lot of really good movies (and one musical)!

아주 좋은 영화들과 뮤지컬 하나를 봤다!

I explored forests; I climbed mountains; I ran around in rainstorms.

숲을 탐험하고, 산을 올라가고, 소나기에서 뛰어다녔다.

I discovered new and exciting areas of a city I thought I was fairly familiar with.

서울은 제가 잘 알다고 생각 하는데 새롭고 재미있는 지방을 찾았다.

I marched in a parade; I showed my pride; I fell in love.

행진을 하고, 자기 자존심을 표시하고, 사랑에 빠졌다.

I read a lot and wrote a lot (not all of it in this blog).

많이 읽고  많이 썼다.

And for all of these amazing opportunities I think the scholarship I got from school and I thank God from whom all blessings flow.

이렇게 굉장히 좋은 기회에 대해서, 저에게 장학금을 주셔서 대학원을 감사하고, 하나님이 저를 사라해서 축복 너무 많이 주셔서 감사합니다.

Tomorrow, I go back to California for grad school, year two. I don't know when I will come back to Korea. But that's what I said last time, and as it turned out, I was back within a year. So we'll just leave it at that.

내일 저는 캘리포니아에 돌아간다. 언제 다시 한국에 올지 완전히 모른다. 하지만 지난번에 똑 같은 말을 했는데, 결과는 1년만에 다시 왔는 거... 그러면 그냥 기다려 봅시다.

다시 만날 날이 있겠다!

국제 시장 - "Ode to My Father"

In Korean class, we watched a film called "국제 시장". The Korean title translates to "International Market", a reference to the famous traditional marketplace in Busan, but its English title is "Ode to My Father".

"The greatest story of the most ordinary father"

I didn't know too much about the film beforehand, only that it is currently South Korea's second-highest grossing film ever (despite only being released last December). Also, people tend to describe it as South Korea's version of "Forrest Gump". I could certainly see many thematic parallels: both movies follow the life of one man across a backdrop of important national events and tell tales of loss and reconciliation, change versus tradition, and hope amidst terror.

The story is about a man named Deok-soo who, as a child, loses his father and a younger sister during the Hungnam Evacuation (during the Korean War). Along with his other younger siblings and his mother, the family relocates to Busan and struggles to get by even after the armistice, with Deok-soo begging for change and chocolate bars from American GIs after school. Always needing more money to support his family, Deok-soo spends his entire adolescence and early adulthood working odd jobs and even moves to Germany to work in dangerous coal mines. The dramatic and colorful stories from the past are interspersed with scenes in present-day Busan, when Deok-soo is an old man (who speaks with some excellent Busan satoori) reliving his memories one by one.

Everyone says that "Ode to My Father" is a sad movie. While that is certainly true -- I cried more than once -- I think it's more accurate to call it a movie that exemplifies the Korean sentiment known as 한 ("han"). Now, han is hard to explain. According to this article in the Korea Times, it is a "deep-seated sense of grief and grievance [against] very powerful agents of injustice." It is a mixture of sorrow and resentment in response to wrongdoing and manifests itself emotionally in a variety of ways, not just sadness. More peculiarly, however, han can accumulate, both within a person and among a community, or even, as it is most often cited, throughout a nation. Han can become the emotional vehicle for a national lament, and it is this kind of han that "Ode to My Father" so masterfully epitomizes.

Deok-soo as a young beggar boy in 1950's Busan

You see, South Korea possesses a history that bursts at the seams with woe. It may be a developed country today, but for the past seventy years, it has struggled with brutal colonization, abject poverty, a civil war that divided its people, utter dependence on Western nations, and throughout all of this, a sense of shame that it could not provide for its people until it finally pulled itself by its bootstraps into the twenty-first century. Thus, Korea as a nation feels han: because families like Deok-soo's were separated by a war they did not start, because it could not afford to educate all of its children, because young men had to labor and die in far-flung foreign countries in order to make enough money to send home. Every remarkable event in this one character's life was connected in some way to the constant struggle against an invisible -- or perhaps many-headed -- oppressor.

It's no wonder that this film's most ardent fans comprise the generation that lived through all of these atrocities. Korean 할머니 and 할아버지 (grandmothers and grandfathers) now in their seventies and eighties, as well people who grew up in the tumultuous decades following the Korean war, really drove the tickets sales that boosted its ranking. It's said that the older generations watched and rewatched the movie not just to experience the catharsis that came with two hours of nonstop han, but also because of 그리움 ("keulium"), or nostalgia. Despite the bleakness of the characters' lives in the movie, there are small moments of joy and a dogged determination to hold on to the past.

Deok-soo dancing with his first love in 1960s Germany

For example, although Deok-soo's life in Germany is almost literally a hellhole (for twelve hours a day, at least), he still gets to meet the love of his life, a Korean nursing student at the local hospital named Young-ja. There's a sense in their scenes together that the wonders of youth and infatuation can make months of eating stale bread while covered head to toe in coal dust worthwhile. And as the present-day Deok-soo continuously refuses to sell the humble imported goods shop he inherited from his aunt, we see a familiar narrative: the small business owner in conflict with with impertinent developers who only want high-rises and care nothing for tradition.

It is in this area, however, that one might be able to pick at a weakness in the film, namely the way it has whitewashed or wholly ignored certain parts of Korean history, under the guise of patriotism. This is a tricky issue to handle, because the director, Yoon Je-kyoon, has already stated that the film has no political aims or undertones. However, it isn't possible to create a movie meant to inspire a love of country without at least passively taking a stand on certain very unlovable things about Korea's recent past. Even I noticed the lack of any mention of the huge political unrest during the early 80s. And while Forrest Gump got to meet US Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon, Deok-soo doesn't even brush the collar (옷깃만을 스쳐도 인연이다!) of any of his country's leaders, whose regimes were often dictatorial, and the absence is more than a bit conspicuous.

This excerpt from an LA Times review brings up another point I wanted to make: Lee Taek-kwang, a professor at Kyunghee University in Seoul, [says] that "Ode" reflects the conservative ideology that for many years exhorted South Koreans to forego individual rights in the name of national development. Referring to one scene in "Ode" where Duk-soo shuns a discussion with his wife to stand at attention for the national anthem, Lee told the Kyunghyang that "Ode" "effectively endorses the idea that the state can exploit its people."

At first I found the aforementioned scene to be funny, but after a moment's thought, I realized that it was actually convicting. The film's protagonist is endearing and the sacrifices he makes for his family are awfully inspiring, yet a close scrutiny of his life and ideology from another angle reveals that he is no more than the model citizen that an autocratic, brutally capitalist government wants. Although Deok-soo ostensibly joined the Korean forces in Vietnam because he needed money to help his family, the narrative is structured such that it is his patriotism that brings him back to the battlefield. He is not a powerless refugee, but a savior to the people fleeing war, as he did when he was a child; and there is a hefty message in that.

Yoon created "Ode to My Father" as a dedication to his actual father, who died when the director was in film school. He claims that he wanted to help Korea's younger generation understand the tribulations that their parents and grandparents had to endure to help bring the country to where it stands proudly today. In this sense, he has certainly created a masterpiece tear-jerker that drives the point home. A simple scene in which Deok-soo pens a letter from Vietnam to his wife really struck my heart: in it, he wrote, "It’s such a relief that it was us, and not our children, who were born during such a difficult time," and Young-ja sobbed on the floor of her home while I cried silently in my seat. The singular thought that filled my mind as I walked home that day was, "How little I know about what life was like for my father and grandfather and their generations! How scarcely I've asked them about their past sufferings!"

I wonder, often, how much today's young Koreans, including those in this country and in the global Korean diaspora, understand the concept of han. It's supposed to be a national sentiment, so can someone outside the country's borders carry it? Or is it solely the ethnic connection, which even a child adopted from Korean is meant to be able to feel because of the blood that runs through their veins? Or both? (I am certain the director intended both.) So then what about a random non-Korean American like me, who has learned about Korean history and spent a good chunk of his adult life living here? When my soul hurts with compassion and sorrow from watching a movie like "Ode to My Father", I don't know if I can call that emotion han. I have built jeong (정) with many Korean people, some of whom feel like family, but does that make me a part of the in-group? Can han be learned or appropriated? Tough, abstract questions, these...

But I can say at least that watching this film has not only given me a better perspective on the historical context that grounds both Korean ipseity and collective identity, but also enlightened for me parts of the unique debate over how this identity ought to be preserved and represented now and in the future. Besides all of this, "Ode to My Father" is a beautiful and satisfying film, so I highly recommend it.

- - -

P.S. There is a very cool story about the casting of one of the actors in the film. I vaguely recognized her when she first appeared on-screen, but I never would have guessed exactly where I'd first seen her. But after I read an article about how she was cast, I was extremely surprised! You can read the article here, but I warn you that there are major plot spoilers in it. So if you plan to watch "Ode to My Father" but haven't yet, save this article until afterward. Seriously.

A Chance Run-In at a Baseball Game

Nexen Heroes (Seoul) vs. NC Dinos (Changwon) at the Mokdong Baseball Stadium, Nexen's home base.

Last weekend, one of my classmates invited me to a baseball game in Seoul. She's a fan of Seoul's team, the Nexen Heroes, and she knew that I was a fan of Changwon's team, the NC Dinos¹. We went with other exchange students as well as my friend's homestay family, which included a teenage son, SW, who is crazy about baseball! All of us got seats in a section of the stadium heavy with Nexen fans, and SW was very enthusiastically using his pink thunder sticks to cheer on his team, so much that his parents kept telling him to sit down and be quieter.

Unfortunately for SW, the Nexen Heroes suffered a devastating (and, to be honest, embarrassing) loss against the NC Dinos, who are one of the best teams in the league this year despite being only two years old. The NC Dinos were leading by a few runs in every inning, which I pointed out gleefully to my rather disgruntled classmate. I took a quick selfie and posted it to Facebook, with the caption, "서울에서 넥센과 NC 다이노스 야구 경기를 보는데 다이노스를 혼자 응원해서 좀 쓸쓸하다 ㅋㅋ" (I'm watching a Nexen/NC baseball game in Seoul, but because I'm the only Dinos fan [in this section], it's kind of lonely, lol).

Then, in the sixth inning, something happened that made the Heroes commit error after error after error... maybe it was the fact that it had begun to drizzle? In any case, the Dinos were able to score ten runs at the top of the sixth, bringing the score to 16-5. Ten runs. What baseball team can score ten runs in a single inning?! The scoreboard couldn't even show double digits for runs, so after the tenth run, the numeral "9" was changed to an "A".

I stopped goading my classmate after that because I felt bad about how my team was trampling hers underfoot. Poor SW resorted to praying for a miracle beside me. On the other side of the stadium, however, the devout NC fans were singing and having a whopping good time. I have always been impressed with NC's fans -- I was once told that the Changwon team's fans all had to jump ship from the Busan team (Lotte Giants) when the Dinos were formed in 2012, and then they worked extra hard to build up their fan base in opposition to their neighboring city. As a result, the NC Dinos fans are among the most ardent in the country. I mean, this was a game held in Seoul (5 hours from Changwon), yet enough fans showed up in their section to hold their own against a stadium full of Nexen supporters and their sound systems, mascots, and cheerleaders.

One of my former students (from Changwon Science High School) is one of these die-hard Dinos fans. How did I find this out? Well, it was quite an unexpected and serendipitous meeting. Shortly after I posted the aforementioned photo to Facebook, she saw it pop up on her Facebook newsfeed. (We weren't friends on Facebook, but another one of my former students Liked the photo, and she saw that.) Realizing that we were both at the same game, she walked over to the other side of the stadium, judging by the background she could see in the photo, and then found me!

I was extremely taken aback when I saw her. This is a student who graduated in fall of 2012. I had only taught her for one semester and hadn't seen her (online or anywhere) for two and a half years! The first thing she said to me was (in Korean): "Teacher! Do you remember me?" It took me a moment because her hairstyle was different, and she definitely looked like a third-year college student, not a high schooler. But I remembered her name. In fact, I remember the exact conversation we had, nearly three years ago, when she explained why her name was rather unique among Koreans because it came from a native Korean word that had no hanja (Chinese character) counterpart -- her name means "sunset"².

When I told her that I remembered her, she was so happy she didn't even know what to say next. Also, as it turned out, she hadn't kept up with her English studies, so she was very much speechless. She told me that she loved the Dinos and was even wearing a jersey that had been signed by the team. I was just amazed at this coincidental reunion. I wished my student best of luck in school, told her that we ought to meet up again sometime, and took another selfie before she went back to join her fellow fans. Later, during that improbable sixth inning, I texted her, saying, "WE'RE WINNING!" and she replied, in English, "Perfect!" plus a lot of emojis.

You know, I can't remember all of my former student's names. I can't even remember all of my current Korean friends' names -- it's just harder for me to mentally store and retrieve Korean names, compared to English ones. But I will never forget a student's face. And I'm glad my student didn't forget mine.

That night, I was thrilled that my team won, but what really made my day had nothing to do with the game at all. It had something to do, I believe, with the sunset.

- - -

¹In Korea, professional sports teams are literally named after their corporate sponsors. Nexen Tire Corporation is a Korean tire manufacturing company. Its name is a portmanteau of "next century". The NC Dinos are owned by NCSOFT, a video game development company. Thus, I know many names of Korean sports teams, but I rarely know what city they are meant to represent.

²Okay, her name doesn't actually mean sunset. It actually refers to the glow of the sun at sunset or sunrise, which is... what, Rayleigh scattering? Or just... red sky (in the morning, sailors take warning...)

The Legal Battle for Marriage Equality in Korea

The year 2015 has seen marriage equality (legalization of marriage between two men or two women, also known as gay marriage or same-sex marriage) coming into effect in Ireland by popular vote and in the United States by Supreme Court ruling. Now, the stage has been set for Korea's own legal showdown, as a well-known gay couple has filed a lawsuit against the district office that denied them a marriage license in 2013.

Kim Jho Gwang-soo, a film director perhaps best known for his feature film Two Weddings and a Funeral as well as his LGBTQ activism, and his partner Kim Seung-hwan (David Kim), have found themselves at the forefront of the battle for sexual minorities' equal rights, at least in terms of media focus.

The following is my translation of the first few paragraphs from a Daum News article:

On the afternoon of July 6th, a film director shed tears in front of many cameras, supporters, and a large audience. Behind him was a court house, and before him was the world's prejudice. He said to those before him, "I beg of you to recognize our relationship before I die." He was Kim Jho Gwang-soo, one-half of the country's very first gay couple that held a public wedding ceremony in 2013.

The couple (부부) Kim Jho Gwang-soo and Kim Seung-hwan appeared at the Seoul Western District Court (서울서부지방법원) in Mapo-gu last Monday afternoon. The two of them had filed an appeal against the proceedings of the Family Registration Public Office, and this was the day of their hearing. Previously, the two had held Korea's first gay public wedding ceremony on December 10th, 2013, which is International Human Rights Day (세계인권의 날), and had also filed applications for marriage licenses. However, the Seodaemun District Office refused them, citing the civil definition of marriage. This is the country's first gay marriage lawsuit, and the case has now begun.

(I especially like how the Sino-Korean word "부부" was used to refer to the couple, since the Chinese characters "夫婦" refer to a man and a woman, but its usage for the case of Kim Jho Gwang-soo and Kim Seung-hwan acknowledges, in a way, that their relationship is equal to the traditional kind of couple. At the same time, the gender-neutral English loanword 커플 is also used to refer to them in this article, which is also progressive in its own fashion.)

From a HuffPost Korea article, the Seodaemun District Office's reasoning for rejecting their original license was that "same-sex marriage is invalid due to the settled civil definition of marriage" ("동성 간 혼인은 민법에서 일컫는 부부로서의 합의로 볼 수 없어 무효") as being between one man and one woman. However, the couple's appeal, submitted last May, states that, "nowhere in the civil law are there provisions against same-sex marriage, and through an interpretation of Section 36, Clause 1 of the Constitution that recognizes the right to marriage and equal rights, same-sex marriage must too be accepted." (민법 어디에도 동성 간 혼인 금지 조항이 없고, 혼인의 자유와 평등을 규정한 헌법 제36조 1항에 따라 혼인에 대한 민법 규정을 해석하면 동성혼도 인정된다")

During the news conference, Kim Jho Gwang-soo said, "I promised not to cry in court, but actually I ended up crying," and "I only ask that you recognize our relationship (단지 우리 관계를 인정해달라는 것), but I want to know why we are receiving so much hate. I've done my military service and fulfilled all my obligations as a citizen, so why do I have to appeal to the court, crying [for my equal rights]?"

The HuffPost article also has plenty of photos (courtesy Yonhap News) from the news conference following the court appearance (which was not open to the public). In the audience were supporters sporting rainbows and carrying signs saying 평등, 사랑, 존업 (Equality, Love, Dignity). There were also, of course, protesters, who carried signs saying things like "A male daughter-in-law? A female son-in-law? NO!" and "Our children need a mom and a dad!"

The news conference following Korea's first same-sex marriage lawsuit appeal (Yonhap News)

Every single one of the articles I've seen about this trial have referenced the recent US Supreme Court ruling in favor of marriage equality. Even this opinion piece written by Kim Jho Gwang-soo himself (which I will try to translate later, but it's so long...) begins with the news of victory from America and a quote from President Obama. Historically, Korea has taken cues from the United States in the political and social spheres, but when it comes to rights for sexual minorities, many of the Korean groups that oppose them are actually playing the anti-foreign intervention card in a gamble to preserve Korea's moral traditions.

But with growing international pressure, plus domestic pressure as events like this year's enormously successful Korea Queer Culture Festival (and Pride Parade) greatly increase the visibility of Korea's LGBTQ community, the issue is sure to take center stage in the near future. And when that happens, the status quo could very likely change. The hope is that while the United States took around ten years to come around to complete marriage equality (with the last two years in particular seeing the tides turn dramatically -- watch this amazing video illustration!), Korea, a country whose public opinion and social environment can evolve quite quickly, will shift in favor of full rights for sexual minorities in even less time, followed soon by its laws.

Links and Sources
- Kim Jho Gwang-soo's HuffPost Korea opinion piece (Korean) and a public Facebook post he wrote about his feelings about the legal battle ahead (Korean)
- My Fair Wedding, a documentary about Korea's first publicly gay couple, came out on June 4th (English)

- Three short articles (in English) about Korea's first gay marriage lawsuit, here and here and here.

- Two longer articles (in English), from The Telegraph and Korea Joonang Daily.

- The articles (in Korean) that I translated/used as sources, here and here.

Korea Queer Culture Festival & Pride Parade 2015 (퀴어문화축제와 자긍심 퍼레이드)

"In a world where I can be myself, all love is equal."

This year's Korea Queer Culture Festival had its opening ceremony on June 9th and its closing parade on June 28th. I went to both events and took photos to share with you all.

(I have translated this post into Korean. But I have not had it checked at all, so it's going to be messy. Sorry in advance for the errors!)

올해 한국의 퀴어문화축제는 6월9일에 개막식이 열리고 6월 28일 자긍심 (프라이드) 퍼레이드가 열렸다. 저는 사진을 찍어려 갔다.

(저는 한국어를 잘 못 해서 실수가 많이 있르 것이다. 미안합니다!)

To my Christian friends: a good number of you may be against events like Pride and the values that it stands for. I understand this. Years ago I also used my religion and my deeply-held beliefs about Biblical morality to fuel my disapproval of all things that had to do with LGBTQ expression.

저의 기독교인 친구들에게: 아마 너희들중에 이런 행사와 성소수자의 이상에 반대하는 사람이 많은 것 같다. 저는 너희들의 생각을 이해한다. 저도 이전에 기독교와 성경을 믿기 때문에 동성애와 다른 성소수자의 표현을 싫어했다.

My point of view has changed, however. I believe now that it is only fair that LGBTQ people have the same rights as everyone else: the right to celebrate their own culture, the right to get married, the right to create families and contribute to society without being condemned or threatened because of their differences in gender or sexuality.

하지만 이제 저는 생각을 바꿨다. 지금 성소수자들이 평등권리를 받야 한다고 생각한다. 퀴어 문화를 즐기는 권리며, 결혼 권리며, 가족을 이루는 권리며, 혐오나 협박 없이 사회에 공헌할 수 있는 권리도 필요한다.

Furthermore, I believe that the Christians who have historically opposed LGBTQ activism have done so in a largely unloving and foolish way. While Christ calls us to love even our enemies, Christians were the first to cast stones at the oppressed sexual minority communities, or else stood by and watched discrimination become entrenched in society without lifting a finger to help. Christians should have been the first to help an oppressed minority, because God's love transcends petty human ideologies.

또 한, 이전에 성소수자의 활동주의에 반대하는 기독교인들은 야박하고 어리석게 했다고 생각한다. 예수님이 우리가 원수를 사랑하라고 했지만, 억압당하는 성소수자들을 공격하는 사람들이 기독교인들이었다. 선소수자들이 사외에서 차별을 당할 때 손가락도 까딱하지 않은 사람들이 기독교인들이었다. 오히려 기독교인들은 먼저 도와줘야 했었는데요. 왜냐하면 하나님의 사랑이 인간의 이상들을 초월하기 때문이다.

Seoul Pride Parade 2015

So here I was at Seoul's Pride Month events, happy to see Korea's LGBTQ community come together in strength and solidarity, and at the same time dismayed (yet unsurprised) to see huge numbers of conservative Christian protestors loudly declaiming against homosexuality, AIDS, public indecency, and gay marriage. They flew the Korean flag and a cross flag to symbolize the ideals of faith and tradition that drove them to protest, and they countered all of the Pride events with rallies and performances of their own.

그런데 제가 퀴어문화 축제를 다녔는데, 한국 성소수자들이 같이 모이는 것 하고 그들의 공동체의 결속을 보여줘서 고무적이고 감동적이었다. 반면에 수 많은 보수적인 기독교의 시위자들이 ‘동성애 아웃’, ‘에이즈의 광란’, ‘동성결혼 싫어’, ‘외설죄 반대’라는 구호를 시끄럽게 소리치는 것도 봐서 조금 속상했다. (역시 보수적인 기독교의 시위자들…) 신앙과 전통의 상진주의 위해 태극기와 기독교의 십자가 국기를 올렸고 퀴어문화축제에 반대의 그들은 자기의 행사를 열렸다.

I just want to show you what it looked like from the perspective of a non-Korean, Christian, gay man. I went to enjoy the events, and I went with friends, and I never at any point felt unsafe. I was happy to see the joy and pride at KQCF. I hope that the Christians who support LGBTQ rights will be encouraged that even in a conservative country like Korea, a celebration like this can happen. I also hope that the Christians who do not support LGBTQ rights will see despite their opposition, the right way to win hearts is not through anger, disgust, or despair, but through love.

저는 그냥 직접 목격한 것을 좀 보여드리고 싶다. 저는 한국인 아니며, 예수님을 사랑하는 게이 남성인데 올해 퀴어문화축제에 즐겁게 지내려고 갔다. 친구들이랑 무사히 다녀왔다. 제가 KQCF에서 행복한 분위기와 모든 사람들의 자긍심이 보일 수 있어서 기뻤다. 여러분, 성소수자를 지지하는 기독교인들이 한국과 같은 보수적인 나라에서도 이런 축제가 열려도 되는것에서 위안을 찾으시면 좋겠다. 그리고 성소수자의 권리에 반대 하는 기독교인들이 다음 진상을 아시면 좋겠다: 남의 마음을 얻는 것을 위해서 가장 좋은 방식이 분노, 혐오, 절망으로 아니고 사랑으로 해야한다.

Dance performances at KQCF 2015

To my Korean friends: a good number of you may be curious about what KQCF is, even though it has been held annually in Seoul for sixteen years now. Here's my short explanation: Some people think homosexuality is something that recently came from Western societies into Korea. Actually, LGBTQ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer) people have been in Korea for hundreds of years, but the recognition that sexual minorities are normal and not mentally ill or perverted is more recent. And even more recently, there have been movements around the world to show acceptance of these sexual minorities.

저의 한국친구들에게: 아마 너희들중에 ‘퀴어문화축제’가 뭣인지 궁굼할 것 같다. 한국에서 지난 16년 동안 열렸거든요… 어쨌든. 동성애가 서양 사회에서 한국에 들어온 것이라고 생각하는 사람도 있다. 사실은 LGBTQ (레즈비언, 게이, 양성애, 트랜즈젠더, 퀴어 등) 사람들이 한국에 옛날부터 있었지만, 이 성소수자들이 실제로 정신 장애가 없고 변태가 아니라는 인식이 현대까지 안 나왔다. 그리고 더 최근에 전세계에 성소수자의 승인을 구하는 운동들이 시작되었다.

Seoul's "Korea Queer Culture Festival" began in the year 2000. LGBTQ activists have had to fight to gain recognition that LGBTQ people even exist in Korea. But there are more hurdles to overcome. Discrimination against LGBTQ people is widespread: in Korea, a gay or lesbian couple cannot get married, a person can be fired from their job for being queer, and, of course, LGBTQ teenagers can be bullied to the point of wanting to commit suicide. Activists and allies in Korea want to change laws and public opinion in Korea so that Korean society will become a safer place for sexual minorities.

서울의 ‘퀴어문화축제’라는 행사는 2000년에 세웠다. 이 전에 한국의 성소수자들의 존재를 대채로 인식되지 않았다. 요즘은 퀴어 사람들이 옛잘 보다 자주 보일 수 있지만 성소수자에 관한 사회의 문제가 많이 남았다고 생각 한다. 성소수자에 대한 차별이 정말 많다. 예를 들면 한국에서 게이나 레즈비언 커플의 결혼은 불법이다. 그리고 어떤 성소수자가 성적 성향 때문에 일에서 해고될 수 있다. 또, 퀴어 청소년들이 자주 자살하도록 괴롭힘을 당하고 있다. 한국 성소수자 운동가들 하고 동맹자(친구)들은 한국이 성소수자에게 안전한 사회가 되도록 한국의 법을 개정하고 여론을 바꾸고 싶다.

Of course, KQCF is also a big party, too. LGBTQ people value freedom, love, and equality for all people regardless of who they are. The reason the celebration can be a little bit wild is probably a direct response to the intensity of the community's historical oppression. If you go to a Pride event and see crazy costumes, leftist slogans, or people behaving in a way that is surprising to you, I encourage you to remain open-minded and remember that there is a reason for all of the things people do and believe, and that it is better to try to appreciate that reason than to immediately dismiss it because you don't understand.

물론 퀴어문화축제는 축제이잖아요. 성소수자들은 사람들의 차이에 상관없이 자유, 사랑과 평등을 소중하게 생각한다. 축제가 가끔… 광란(격렬?)하는 이유는 성소수자들의 역사상의 억압에 직접 반응인 것 같다. 너희들이 프라이드 행사에 다니시고 괴짜의 의상, 좌파 구호나 이상한 사람을 보시면, 므음을 열기를 바랍니다. 인간행동과 우리의 믿음이 개인에 딸라 다른 것을 잊지 마세요. 남의 다른 자가표현을 알아듣지 않아서 싫어하지 말고 그들을 이해해보시기 바랍니다.

To my LGBTQ friends: Have courage, and happy Pride!

우리 게이, 레즈비언, 양성애의, 트랜즈젠더, 퀴어 등 친구들에게: 용기를 가지세요. 힘내. 화이팅. 해피 프라이드!

The Flag We Fly

Happy USA Day! Barack and Michelle Obama paid a visit to the US Embassy's booth at Seoul Pride last week!

Today is the Fourth of July, also known as Independence Day. This is the holiday when Americans commemorate their declaration of independence from Britain (way back in 1776) and celebrate American values such as liberty, freedom, democracy, and the right to shoot other Americans if we feel threatened by their existence. Just kidding about that last one...

Except that it's not actually something to kid about. As an American, I feel very lucky to have certain privileges such as the power of my passport, a top-tier education, and, well, freedom. But I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that my country is flawed and deeply imbalanced. Though I have able to reap many benefits in my life, many of my fellow citizens suffer daily from systemic racism, hiring practices that put them at an inherent disadvantage, social expectations that don't support their self-expression, and a majority culture that shamelessly and ignorantly allows all of this oppression to happen.

Anyway. I'm proud to be an American, but I will not let my flag fly idly and be silent about the problems our country has to solve. What day is better to reflect upon how to improve America than the anniversary of her birth?

P.S. The photo above was taken at the Korea Queer Culture Festival! Many more photos and a recap post to come soon. Congrats USA, and thank you Supreme Court, for passing marriage equality in all fifty states. Happy Pride!

Return to Changwon

Last weekend, I returned to the city that I called home for two years, Changwon. Because I only had a few days to visit, I wanted to meet with as many people as possible, including my host family, friends from church, friends from language class, former colleagues, and even a former student. These were all people who changed my life in some way or another during my time in Korea, so I was very happy to meet them again. Happy is actually an understatement: from the moment I stepped off the train and saw my city with my own eyes once more, I felt a deep contentment and familiarity that must have come from a different level than the one that produces such fleeting emotions as happiness.

The familiarity was a curious feeling, too. From things as simple as getting on one of the city's insane buses again and remembering my old route home, to moments of reconnection like catching up on my host brother's now-terrifyingly enormous insect collection, to joyous reunions with old friends that included meeting new ones, every moment was tied to something or someone I'd known well all of eleven months ago. As quite a few people remarked, it was as if I'd only left yesterday. I think one year is not really that long a period of time, and most people did not visibly change (with the exception of my taekgyeon master's son, who is now in his terrible twos!). So it was indeed easy to kind of fall back into the swing of things. Except that never in my two years in Changwon did I have such a whirlwind of a weekend, consisting of reunions with dozens of different people.

Selfies galore, with: Eunjin, the CSHS English department, a former student, my taekgyeon masters, and a Fulbright buddy!

So here's what happened in detail. I took the KTX high-speed rail down to Changwon on Friday after class, and arrived in the evening in time to get dinner with Victoria, a fellow volunteer for Changwonderful, at TGI Friday's (how appropriate). Later that evening, I reunited with my taekgyeon 관장님 (gwanjangnim) and 사범님 (sabeomnim), the director and master/trainer at my old martial arts gym, and did the whole Korean drink-and-eat-and-drink-some-more thing. I had a wonderful time with them, and also discovered the greatness of flavored soju! I really cherished the opportunity to catch up with 관장님 and 사범님, because aside from people at school and my host family, I spent more time with them than anyone else in Korea. (관장님 even let me crash at his house over the weekend, and I spent a lot of time playing with his young son. 관장님 is like a big brother to me; I love his family and owe them so much.)

But even better, through my broken Korean, I was able to relate to the both of them some of my concerns about graduate school or about life in general, and they gave me some much-needed advice. You see, I often have doubts about my decision to continue in academia, partly because it's so hard and partly because I wonder if I'm actually doing anything meaningful with my life. I'm quick to point out that even though I am grateful to be back in California, I was actually happier on a day-to-day basis when I lived and worked in Korea. But 관장님 said something that reminded me of what many of my friends advised back when I was initially deciding on grad school: that I had to leave Korea to move on with my life.

I guess I don't like to be so blunt about it, but either way, since I've turned the page on that chapter, it's no use trying to go back to it as if I haven't already started the next one. I was also touched when 사범님 told me, or perhaps admitted to me, that in his many years of training in taekgyeon, he never worked so hard or enjoyed it so much as when I attended the gym. Heh, that definitely could have been the 순하리 talking, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

On Saturday, I joined 관장님 for his Saturday youth sports classes, including soccer, jump rope, and dodgeball. I met up with my old language partner Eunjin for lunch in the Garosu-gil area, and we had a great time catching up and discussing everything from our past baking adventures to movies staring 빵형 (aka Brad Pitt... brownie points if you get the joke!). I am so grateful that even though Eunjin's English is better than my Korean, she is always patient with me and will let me struggle through an explanation of how the book and movie versions of World War Z are completely different but good in their own ways without embarrassing me at all. And in the evening, I had dinner with my host family (I lived with them for my first year of Fulbright) and caught up on old times. Their dogs are still super cute and super annoying.

On Sunday, I met up with one of my former students, JW, who is now in his second year of university! He contacted me on Facebook and said that he was going home to Changwon, so he wanted to meet up. I was thrilled, because I don't have many opportunities to meet former students, especially those who don't currently live in Seoul. JW really wanted to practice his English, and I felt just like I was back in school doing lunchtime conversation club again. Except this time JW was really eager to talk about university life, and he asked for American TV show recommendations.

I also got lunch with Courtney, who is the Fulbright teacher who has taught at CSHS for the past year, and we discussed life in Korea and the ways she's grown and learned this past year. We also talked about religion and sexuality. I am so impressed with the way Courtney's mind works. It's wide open and ready to listen to anything and everything, as if everyone she encounters is a vendor giving out samples of food she's never seen or tasted before, and it is all delicious. She has embraced the differences of others, as well as the discomfort and the weirdness of living in a foreign country, far from home for a year, with as much energy as a kid at an amusement park who might not be tall enough to get on all of the rides but doesn't care a bit.

In the afternoon, I went back to Redeemer Changwon, a small church that meets at a cafe in the downtown area. I began going to the church a year ago when it was just a handful of friends wanting a fresh, community-based church experience. I was happy and encouraged to see how it's grown since then. And my old friend Traylor gave the sermon, too! Good on him. He preached from 1 John, which, curiously, is a book that I've heard quite a few sermons on in the past few months. It can't be pure coincidence... It was great to catch up with the church folks again, and meet some new friends. We all went to dinner together afterward at El Loco, an excellent Mexican restaurant with prices much more reasonable compared to here in Seoul.

Monday was the long-awaited day in which I went to visit the school where I taught for two years. As soon as I walked on campus, I felt really... in place. As if it were just any other school day and that I should probably get to my classroom or office in a minute. It was exciting to bump into old teachers and students and see them do a double-take. Many of them stopped to greet me and chat in Korean, and they kept saying, "어떻게 왔어요?" Those two words literally mean how and came, so I interpreted it as, "How did you come here?" So I told them that I took a train. To my embarrassment, it's actually, "How come you came here?" So I modified my answers: "I'm here to visit." And to reconnect. And to relive some amazing memories.

Courtney was gracious enough to let me visit her classes that day, including her two classes with the third-year students, who were my second-years last year. I was excited to see them, and they were excited to see me, and they kept commenting about my hair, so I told them about topknots and 상투 and they vacillated between thinking it was cool and thinking it was horrible. Yet for all the thrill of the reunion, let's be honest: it was still English class, and they were still pretty loathe to speak English! Not that much has changed, I suppose! It was actually a bit sad to see how these third-years seemed so tired after so much time stuck in the grueling high school routine. I am looking forward on their behalf to four or five months from now, when they will have finally finished. I also got to meet and play a game with a class of first-years, i.e. students who had no idea who I was. That was a riot, too! They are just the same as my old classes of energetic, not-yet-jaded first-years. They associate California with beaches and CalTech, wail when I tell them that I don't have a girlfriend (and don't want one), and think that my being able to write a few words in hangul on the board is worthy of infinite admiration.

Besides visiting students, I also got lunch with Courtney and the other English teachers, Saerona, JJ, and a new teacher I hadn't met before. It was so sweet of them to be so welcoming and hospitable. Saerona also made me a small gift. (I'd brought some chocolate from the US, but I wish I'd brought the San Francisco coffee again, as I did once, because the teachers in the main office still remembered how good it was... haha.)

And then, too soon, the day was over, and I got on a bus to go back to Seoul. After seventy-two hours, my heart was full.

- - -

I really want to go back to Changwon again, but I don't really know how feasible that will be, as my schedule gets busier and busier, and the time I have left in Korea is already winding down. I wanted to write more about this fantastic, nostalgic, much-needed weekend. Every meal and every conversation deserves its own post, actually. But most of it wouldn't be of very much interest to anyone but myself. I've just spewed out a lot of words on the Internet about something that is very inconsequential to the world at large... what's the point. Well, if there's anything you take from the post, I hope it's this: there was nothing that I loved in Korea more than the people that I met here and formed positive relationships with, and they are the only thing that will keep me coming back.

More on Seoul Pride, Protests, and Human Rights

I just wanted to share this incredible photo shared on the KQCF Facebook page (courtesy Newsis). It's an aerial view of Tuesday's KQCF opening ceremony, in which you can clearly see just how many protesters attended the event.

Despite the protesters not having a permit to organize in Seoul Plaza, they showed up in droves and encircled half of the plaza. They had megaphones and posters and spent the entire evening singing, praying, and shouting at everyone on the other side of the yellow-lit barrier.

The barrier was manned by city police officers, who can also be seen in the image as the clumps of yellow who physically kept the protesters away.

On the bottom right, you can see the stage for the opening ceremony and a pretty sizable crowd of LGBTQ supporters and media. I mean, if it hadn't been for MERS, I'm willing to bet at least three-fourths of Seoul Plaza would be filled with attendees. You can also see a giant rainbow heart that was created using lighted balloons, right in the center of the field.

While we're on the subject of Seoul Pride, I'd like to share a post on Buzzfeed that shows more photos of the event and the protesters. It's rather bluntly titled "Seoul's Pride Events Are Off to a Pretty Terrible Start". And here's another article, from the Korea Observer, that describes the hate-filled atmosphere of the protests in more detail. While the situation does look bad from this point of view, I guess I want to say that a more positive outlook is both possible and necessary. Like I've said before, the LGBTQ activists in Korea have faced fierce opposition every year for over a decade, and I have faith that they will remain strong to fight the good fight for the rest of Pride Month and in the years to come.

And on a more positive note, Human Rights Watch published this open letter to the Korean president and government, urging them to take a stronger stand for LGBTQ rights and to permit the Pride Parade on the 28th (which was controversially denied a permit a few weeks ago). From the letter:

"The Seoul authorities’ failure to allow the LGBT pride parade is in stark contrast to the leadership role South Korea has taken internationally on LGBT rights. At the United Nations, South Korea voted for both the 2011 and 2014 Human Rights Council resolutions that called for an end to violence and discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity and that authorized development of global reports on the status of LGBT rights."

They're right. If South Korea wants to remain in good international standing in the field of human rights, it should let its actions speak louder than its words and protect the LGBTQ minority and also fight for their equality in the right to assemble, to marry, to adopt, etc. (But even if the rest of the developed, democratic world did not support LGBTQ rights, I'd hope that South Korea, a country that has experienced profound oppression in its recent history, would be able to recognize what's really happening here and rally for an end to institutional homophobia regardless.) I'm working on a translation of this short article on HuffPost Korea about how ambassadors and representatives from over a dozen countries took a stand for LGBTQ equality at last Tuesday's opening ceremony. Good on them for not caving to Korea's conservative crazies who want all LGBTQ-supporting foreigners to leave the country! And let's hope that the city government (at least) has a ready response.

KQCF 2015 Opening Ceremony

The LGBTQ community in Korea has recently been facing extremely strong opposition, and with this year's Korea Queer Culture Festival (퀴어문화축제, otherwise known as Seoul Pride), simmering tensions seem to have erupted into a full-scale war. I don't mean to exaggerate, but there has certainly been more controversy than ever, especially in the past week.

Tonight was the opening ceremony (개막식) for the festival. The event was meant to be a party and a celebration of LGBTQ identity, expression, solidarity, and rights. Unfortunately, the dates and locations kept shifting during the planning process because of fierce opposition from anti-LGBTQ groups (mostly made up of conservative Christians), and to top it all off, protesters numbering in the high hundreds -- perhaps even a thousand -- showed up at Seoul Plaza to try to drown out the opening ceremony with hymns and prayer.

On top of that, as most of the world may know by now, South Korea is experiencing an outbreak of MERS, a flu-like virus that has infected several dozen people and landed over a thousand more in quarantine. Although transmission has been limited to hospitals where previous patients have been treated, a rising panic over a possible epidemic has led to the temporary closure of many schools, the cancellation of some large events, and an exponential rise in sales of hygienic masks to wear in public. The organizing team of KQCF had, a few days prior to the event, announced that as a precautionary measure, they recommended that people not actually attend the opening ceremony and instead stay home to watch the live stream.

I deliberated for a while over whether or not I should go. I really wanted to support the community's efforts and use my physical presence as a display of my solidarity. Many other foreigners in Korea agreed with me (the issue was discussed extensively on Facebook), but there was the worry of jeopardizing all of Pride by risking actual MERS transmission or even physical altercations with the anti-LGBTQ protesters, neither of which would look good through the media's lens.

In the end, I told myself that I had nothing to be afraid of, so I bought myself a mask, hopped on the subway with my camera, and traveled to City Hall.

The first thing I saw were city police in their signature yellow vests. Then, I heard the music. But it wasn't the vigorous pop music I'd expected. As I exited the subway station, I saw the signs (literally) and realized that I had walked directly into the anti-LGBTQ protest. Not that there was any way to avoid it. I walked around for a bit, taking in the huge crowds of protesters, and I actually couldn't figure out where the KQCF opening ceremony was at all. Finally, I got my bearings. Seoul Plaza is a large circular field. In one small section of the field, a stage for KQCF had been set up, and people were running around taking care of last-minute details for the event. Around the stage, a police barricade had been erected, with officers standing at even intervals. And then, all around the edge of the giant field, was a long unbroken line of protesters, every one of them holding up a sign or grouped together praying and singing. Between the two camps were two lines of police officers and several yards of empty grass.

To my dismay, I saw that the protesters outnumbered the event supporters by at least five to one, and they were loud. They were prepared with posters, megaphones, and flags, and they were belting out "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" in Korean. I walked among them and took photos and videos of their posters. Most were emblazoned with slogans like "Homosexuals, OUT!", "Gay sex transmits AIDS", "Ban Ki-moon, is homosexuality a human right?", "I am against same-sex marriage", so on and so forth. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. They were so serious.

The poster in the middle says "동성애 (homosexuality) out! out!", and the one on the left is a rant about AIDS.

The media were everywhere. Many people were filming and interviewing both the protesters and the supporters on both sides of the police line. I realized that I would probably end up in some footage broadcast somewhere or posted online... but then I also realized that with my mask and my hat, I would actually be pretty difficult to recognize. At least, nobody looking at me had any reason to suspect that I wasn't just another curious Korean citizen. I guess therein lies another aspect of the mixed blessing of being Asian. I could pretend to be an innocent bystander, but any white person at the event was assumed to be a foreigner and, by proxy, an LGBTQ person or ally. As I stood filming, a Korean clergyman carrying an anti-LGBTQ sign strode past and yelled at two white people nearby, "Jesus died for you!"

After not too long, I'd had enough of the protests and slipped into the barricaded area. I had to work my way past protesters and police, and once I arrived on the other side -- after I literally crossed a boundary (liminality, anyone?) -- I had a brief moment of, what can I call it, epiphany? It dawned on me that even though I could have been anyone, Korean or foreign, Christian or not, gay or whatever, while I was on the protesters' side, as soon as I physically arrived in the space deemed "LGBTQ", I had become the target of the protesters' hate. Honestly. Just because I was standing in a certain roped-off area in Seoul Plaza, I became an object of disgust, fear, and rejection. The Christians were yelling at me, and at everyone else at the event... and yes, it was more than a little bit unsettling.

On the Other side, though, I found the LGBTQ community and allies happily holding up supportive posters of their own, dancing with large glow sticks, or sitting on the grass waiting for the event to start. It was about ninety minutes behind schedule due to certain obstacles encountered during setup (read: protesters). But then, as my friend remarked, "Now comes the part where we just sit back and enjoy the show."

The KQCF opening ceremony, finally! There were dance performances and many, many speeches to sit through. It was formal, yet amazingly spirited, especially for the (relatively) small audience. I think that everyone who got up on the stage was extremely brave for doing so. Whenever the music stopped, we could all still hear the raucous singing and chanting of the protesters, but as time went on it got easier to tune them out. Several of the speeches addressed the protests directly. Seoul Pride has always faced opposition, and this year, while being more intense, was really no different than usual. The organizers took it in stride and responded to the haters with grace and wit. I am so proud of them.

To be honest, I couldn't understand a lot of what was going on, for two reasons. First of all, my Korean listening proficiency isn't that good yet, so I could only grasp about 50% of all the speeches. Second of all, they had Korean Sign Language interpreters! And that was distracting, because I was trying to pick up a few KSL signs while listening to Korean and having to interpret it in my head. But anyway, I think I got the gist of the night: despite oppression, opposition, and possible epidemic, we have to show our love and resist the unjust powers that be. 사랑하라, 저항하라!

By the time I left, I knew that while I and the Korean queer community have every reason to be discouraged and upset, we have strength and we have each other, and that counts for a lot. I was encouraged by tonight, and I have a good feeling that the rest of Seoul Pride will not only rise to meet future challenges, but actually transcend them altogether.

One of the opening acts for the event. The crowd was sizable, despite the MERS scare!

One of my favorite moments was when all of these ambassadors and representatives from other countries spoke in favor of human rights and equality. The one with the mic in this photo is a representative from the USA!

And I almost choked up here, too, when members of the clergy representing four religions came up on stage and spoke out in favor of equality and acceptance. The one speaking now is from a progressive Presbyterian church called Sumdol Hyanglin Church (that I would love to go visit!).

And just for good measures, more protesters I encountered as I left, around 11pm. These people were singing and waving their candles around like it was some sort of vigil.

I'll probably write more about Seoul Pride in the future, but it's been a long day and I really need to sleep now. Goodnight world; I hope I can wake up to a brighter tomorrow. :)

Taekgyeon, and an exciting announcement!

My friend and fellow blogger Eleanor writes books, and as such she also reads plenty of them. The other day, she sent me a link to a blog post about a YA series called Prophecy in which the Korean martial art taekgyeon (택견*) is featured. Here's the blog post; it's a great primer on this unique and relatively unknown sport!

My taekgyeon black belt!

For about a year and a half, I studied taekgyeon in Changwon. I went to the dojang (gym) almost every weeknight and learned about roundhouse kicks and trips, poomsae, and a smattering of hapkido skills. I became very close with my gwanjangnim (master), and I think I made him proud when I achieved my first-degree black belt before I left Korea.

(Gwanjangnim mailed it overseas to me, and I received it a few months ago. That, along with my former students' Christmas cards last winter, are among the best packages I have ever received. A photo of the black belt, certificate, and special dobok (uniform) are on the left.)

About a week ago, gwanjangnim emailed me to ask if I could help him translate a few articles he needed to present on for a class. He's working on a PhD, too, in exercise psychology. As bizarre as it may sound, a lot of the instruction in Korean graduate schools is done in English, and many programs expect a certain level of fluency in English from their students, whether or not English factors at all into their future careers. Anyway, I did this favor for gwanjangnim, and then I broke the news that I'm about to tell all of you dear readers:

I received a scholarship that will allow me to spend this summer in Korea. I'm going back!

The scholarship is from Berkeley, and the funding will allow me to participate in a language program of my choice. Of course, my choice is the Language Education Institute at Seoul National University, so that's where I'll be for the duration of June and July. While I'm there, I hope to connect with some linguists at that university and conduct some of my own research on the Korean language.

Also while I'm there, I will make frequent trips to Insadong, Seoul's famous "traditional" neighborhood, where weekly taekgyeon performances and demonstrations are held. I hope to be able to find a good dojang in Seoul and show gwanjangnim what I've learned when I visit Changwon. Obviously, I've lost a lot of my skill in the nine months since I returned to the United States.

But anyway, this is good news! I will of course revive this blog to update everyone on what I'm up to in Seoul this summer. Thanks for reading; you will hear back from me again soon! (In the meantime, you can check out my grad school blog here.)

*Because of differences in romanization styles, 택견 can be written as taekkyon, taekkyeon, taekgyeon, or even t'aekkyŏn. I write it the way I do because that's how it's spelled on my uniform.

P.S. Happy Earth Day! 지구의 날 축하해!

Memories

I forget things easily, and I'm sad to admit it. The other day I was browsing my Facebook news feed when I saw that one of my former students had changed his cover photo to a cute picture of his entire class. I smiled when I saw the picture, then clicked on it to take a closer look. I saw three rows of familiar faces smiling for the camera, hands in the familiar "V"-sign I'd even begun to use after living in Korea for two years.

Nobody was tagged in the photo yet, so I tried to remember the names of the students in that particular homeroom class. And that's when I realized that I couldn't. Many names came back to me easily, but others escaped me completely. I had iterations of various Korean names floating around in my head, but I couldn't attach them to faces. I almost panicked because it dawned on me that my attachment to Korea has already begun to weaken and fade. I've been home for almost two months, haven't seen my students in nearly three, and despite all the messages I send on Facebook or the photos and status updates they post every day, I am beginning to forget who they are.

On one hand, this is only natural. We can pour our hearts out onto people and connect in life-changing ways, but when it's time to move on, the old links break while new ones form; the empty jar gets filled with other people. Social media and other forms of technology can only sustain it for so long. Maybe we just wern't meant to keep in touch with everyone forever.

Which do I fear more, forgetting or being forgotten? I hope that I left a lasting legacy on my students, at my school. But I know full well that I will eventually become nothing more than a memory, maybe also a photo. Courtney, who is now teaching at my school, has been doing an amazing job with my old students, as far as I can tell. And I'm happy about it. If they have so much fun in her class that they forget all the (boring) things that I ever taught them, I'll have peace of mind. But the jealous litle devil in me also wants them to miss me. To think, "I wish Andrew Teacher were still around," even though it's just a pipe dream.

Well, Courtney messaged me the other day with a photo she took of a second-year student's journal entry. And when I read what JH had written, I felt all warm inside. It really made my day.

"Since I have lived quiet good life, I have a lot of great memories. First, it is meeting teacher Andrew in CSHS. Andrew teacher is the most intelligent and kind teacher who I have ever met include Korean and foreigns. He always cheer us and keep us think optimistically. After I graduate BS in university, I'm going to meet him in US."

If you look carefully, you'll see that JH's second great memory is meeting Courtney at CSHS. I'm just so thrilled that English educators are making an impact on this young person's life. Maybe five or ten years down the road, he won't remember much of anything about either of us. (And maybe five or ten days for now I'll have forgotten what he looks like again.) But at least for now, we can know that we've done some good.

- - -

On another note, I will be closing this blog at the end of September. This is probably going to be my last post. There are some other things I've had sitting around in my drafts for a while, but it's unlikely that I'll ever get to them. If something does come up in my future that brings me back to Korea, then I see no reason why I wouldn't write again. But in the meantime, I'm starting up a new blog, this time on WordPress, that will document my adventures in graduate school. You can find it here.

I have loved writing and photographing my time in Korea, and I thank all my readers for having joined me at one time or another. If you were a friend from home, or the random parents of friends, or a complete stranger who stumbled across this by accident, thank you all the same! I hope you learned a thing or two and were inspired, possibly, to think or write or create in some way for yourself.

안녕히계세요. Peace.

The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge has reached Korea

They're using the hashtag #아이스버킷챌린지, and their videos having been popping up on my NewsFeed all week. Yes, the Internet's most viral meme of the moment has hopped across the Pacific from the US to Korea. I've watched dozens of videos of my friends and students dumping (very large) buckets of water on their heads, and it's entertaining every single time! It's the funniest when I see my students sitting cross-legged in the school showers, flinching right before their friends gleefully drench them. I'm very happy to see them doing their part to raise awareness for ALS (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig's Disease/루게릭병) and for the Korean ALS Association.

In addition to my students, at least one fellow CSHS teacher has risen to the challenge -- his Facebook video was Liked by basically the entire population of the school, including me. I have also seen a few of my Taiwanese friends jump on the bandwagon, and now I wonder if the Ice Bucket Challenge has successfully made it all the way around the globe yet?

Well, I guess it was only a matter of time before someone nominated me. To my surprise, however, it was one of my Korean students, not an American friend! There are just two problems, though...

The first is that California is suffering from an extreme and devastating drought, and to fill and immediately empty a bucket of water for no reason other than to make a thirty-second video is a senseless waste of resources.

The second is a bit more trivial, but I maintain a bit of my teaching persona with my students even though I am Facebook friends with them and no longer even their teacher. So, I asked JH to translate her challenge into English so that I could understand it, first. ;)


Whatever your views on the Ice Bucket Challenge -- there are a dozen different ways to spin it -- I'm a fan. If you've otherwise been ignoring the fad, at least educate yourself and look up what ALS is, and donate if you can.

Oh, and if you want to watch a bunch of Korean celebrities get soaked... here's a fun collection of videos. (Makes me wish I could turn my friends' Facebook videos into gifs...)