Let the Countdown Begin

Actually, I meant to start my countdown a while ago, but I never got around to it. Today, however, is special. From today, I have only thirty days left in Korea! In just one month, on August 7th, I will board a plane at Incheon Airport and fly home to California.

Here's an even smaller and scarier number: I have eight days left with my students, and on two of those days, they will be taking exams! I was surprised by quirks in the schedule (although after two years of this nonsense, you'd think I'd stop getting blindsided) that left me with just one more meeting with some of my favorite classes.

So today, I had to rush my goodbyes. I passed back tests, gave out class awards, and then played one last game with the second-years. This game was an elaborate puzzle that I put together from bits and pieces of things they've learned (or should have learned) over the past year, like Greek and Latin roots, high school cliques, and US geography. There were eight parts to the puzzle, and each part, when unscrambled and put together, spelled out the answer to the Big Question: Where is Andrew going?

The answer: "University of California at Berkeley."

My nerdy students had a lot of fun with the riddles, but I underestimated the difficulty of some parts, unfortunately. The classes thus took so long to figure out the puzzle that by the time I actually gave my announcement, breaking the news -- just a week before the end of the semester -- that I would not be returning in the fall, the bell was already ringing. So there actually wasn't much time at all for goodbyes.

I think it would have been more difficult to prolong it, anyway.

Fortunately, I've already had some students promise to visit me!

- - -

Unrelated: tonight, I went to 한글학당 (hangeul hakdang), the weekly Korean tutoring sessions offered for free at a local community center, for the first time in months. I felt bad because I have only two more opportunities to go, and I made a promise to the Korean teachers there that I'd be more diligent about going this year. Well, I totally broke that promise (약속을 지키지 못했다). Actually, it turns out they'd all assumed that I'd gone home to the US already. Nope! I just went to chat with the teachers and learn a thing or two. A lot of my time was unexpectedly taken up by a local reporter who was doing a news story on the Korean class. So, instead of studying Korean, I got to practice Korean by being interviewed for a newspaper! That's pretty exciting. If I get ahold of the article (기사/kisa) when it comes out, I will certainly share it here.

Also unrelated: there was a crazy thunder-and-lightning storm (뇌우/nwe-u) today! A lot of people assumed that it was Typhoon Racoon*, which has sliced through Okinawa and is about to travel up Korea's east coast, but it was actually just a typical monsoon season (장마/jangma) storm. The typhoon is supposed to arrive tomorrow, which will mean high winds and heavy rain, but there's no real danger, at least where I'm living.

*Neoguri (pronounced nuh-goo-ree), means "racoon" in Korean. I don't know why they named a typhoon thus.

- - -
Lastly, watch this. It is, in fact, thematically appropriate.

You're welcome.

Rain

Satellite image of Typhoon Soulik, Friday evening (28storms.com)

That is one enormous typhoon. It's at least six times as large as the island itself (the red arrow is pointing near Taipei). Fortunately, the worst part of Typhoon Soulik has already passed through Taipei and is now heading toward China, and before it touched down, it was downgraded to a medium-force storm rather than super-strong-hurricane-of-epic-proportions. Unfortunately, there has been one reported death in the capital so far. I'm praying that proper precautions and evacuation procedures have saved many more lives.

In other news, Typhoon Soulik resulted in the cancellation of my original flight to Taiwan. Stephanie and I have been scrambling to figure out how we're going to get to the island, and the current state of affairs is a confirmed flight for tomorrow morning as well as waiting list positions for a another flight this afternoon. I'm hoping we can get onto today's flight, since I'd like to be in Taiwan as early as possible. Please pray for our safe and successful travels!

On the other hand, with all the free time we now have, Stephanie is baking bread, and I'm helping clean the apartment we're crashing in. This is turning into a nice lazy Saturday afternoon, which is pleasant. I need some time in a quiet place, especially since yesterday was... not the best of days. Still, I can't wait to be in Taiwan!

Heat

It's hot today, there's no denying that. But is it hot enough to warrant advising the general populace not to annoy anyone for fear that it might result in violent crime?

The 불쾌 지수 (bulkwe jisoo), or Discomfort Index, will tell you just that. During the Korean summer, when the temperature and humidity level both reach a certain unbearable point, the Discomfort Index indicates that it's just too hot to risk doing anything rash. Then, weathermen will not only tell you that it's 85°F (29°C) with 85% humidity, but they will also tell you not to give anyone grief, because the heat can literally drive someone crazy and cause them to hurt you. They also caution against going outside or drinking anything caffeinated.

When it comes to heat-addled brains, some may find it odd that Koreans have a unique expression for symptoms of illness directly caused by heat. 도위 먹다 (dowee meokda) translates to "eat heat". It refers to the manifestations of nausea, fatigue, and various bodily aches which are claimed to be brought on by uncomfortably high temperatures. I'm not aware of anything comparable in the US. I mean, we have heatstroke, but that is a legitimate medical condition, whereas 도위 먹다 sounds to me like crankiness. Perhaps those who eat too much heat are the ones to watch out for when the Discomfort Index is too high!

Today, I received a text message that appeared to come from a national or regional alert system (소방방재청): 폭염경보 (pogyeom gyeongbo), or "heat wave warning". It read: 11일 11시부로 폭염경보, 물을 자주 마시고 카페인음료 삼가, 잦은 환기, 한 낮 외출은 자제 하. My rough translation: "July 11th, from 11am onward, a heat wave warning. Drink lots of water and avoid caffeinated drinks, stay in a ventilated area, and refrain from going outdoors for the day."

Korea takes its weather seriously. Not that I wouldn't expect the same sort of thing in the US, especially in perennially scorched California, but I just find the Discomfort Index so... I don't know, endearing? Quaint? Fitting for Korea? I can't think of the right word at the moment. Probably because it's too hot.

On the other hand, I'm also mentally preparing for even worse weather. I am planning to fly to Taiwan this weekend (God-willing, as long as Typhoon Soulik doesn't wreak complete havoc on the island), where the temperature and humidity are both considerably higher than in Korea. After this week and next, I'll be quite relieved when I'm finally back in California, land of sunshine and a super-dry atmosphere. And cheap fruits, and Chipotle, and my family, etc.

온도와 습도가 높으면 불쾌지수도 높아요.
When the temperature and humidity level are high, the Discomfort Index is also high.

더워 죽겠네!
It's so hot I'm dying!

Hurricane Sandy

Dang. The videos and photos that are inundating (...) the Internet right now are unreal. Hurricane Sandy gave the American Northeast a beating, leaving around 7 million people (7,000,000!) without power and flooding New York and New Jersey. Downtown Manhattan is underwater. Tunnels and subways are turning into rivers. Paradoxically, a six-alarm fire basically destroyed an already-flooded neighborhood in Queens. The hurricane also collided with a nor'easter and dumped snow on West Virginia.

While it's evening on the thirtieth in Korea, back on the East Coast it's still morning on a Tuesday, and I expect as day arrives and as the storm and surges recede, we'll soon be able to see just how much damage has been done. It's interesting thinking about the literal morning after the storm... I can't imagine what it must have been like for my friends who had to shutter themselves indoors all night, with 75-mph winds howling and rain falling sideways (although Facebook hinted that they were actually enjoying their storm days off).

I've already been through several typhoons in Korea, and my verdict has always been that they're never as nightmarish as they're made out to be. However, this doesn't mean you can be too prepared... and this record-breaking storm looks like it was absolutely insane. So as Hurricane Sandy retreats, my thoughts and prayers are with all those affected by the disaster. 화이팅!

Ground Zero worksite being flooded. (via The Scuttlefish)

What I've been reading:

The Daily Beast live-updated coverage of Hurricane Sandy.

New York Times live-updated coverage.
The Guardian live-updated coverage.

A collection of amazing and terrifying photos on The Scuttlefish.
Before and After photos from Buzzfeed.

Happy Chuseok!

Happy Chuseok from Google!

Chuseok (추석) is the most important national holiday of Korea. It's billed to Americans as "Korean Thanksgiving", which is supported by both holidays' occurrence in autumn and the focus on food and family. But from what I've seen, there are more differences than similarities. Perhaps the most conspicuous difference is that the "family" focus of Chuseok is actually on deceased family.

Anyway, I was lucky enough to be able to spend Chuseok with my homestay family. They invited me to experience it, as most foreigners wouldn't get this kind of chance, and I was excited and accepted.

So I spent today in Daegu with my homestay family. (In fact, I spent most of the weekend in Daegu, and I'll have many more posts about my other adventures to write after this.) Custom dictates that a family will return to the father's hometown. So, we went to my homestay father's older brother's apartment, located in an old and quiet neighborhood where, thirty-some years ago, my homestay father grew up, biked to school, and played soccer.

Chalye jinaegi

The morning ritual was a 차례 지내기 (chalye jinaegi), a sort of memorial service for the family's late grandparents.

Despite the common translation of this as "ancestor worship", I would hesitate to call it that. I'm aware, of course, that not understanding the Korean language or really much at all about Korean culture, I could be totally off base. But the word "worship" has particular connotations that were absent from the scene I witnessed, with the grand exception of the prostration in front of the altar. Yet even in regards to that, well, Koreans bow a lot to many different people, and that is considered duly respectful, not idolatrous.

Anyway, the setup was really similar to the big rock unveiling ceremony that I attended last week: a table laden with food (fried sweet potatoes, fruits, dried squid and cuttlefish, a roasted chicken, rice, rice wine, rice cakes, and songpyeon (송편), but no pig head this time), incense, and candles. There was a paper screen with hanja on it that I couldn't decipher, and also smaller papers that represented the ancestors.

I was invited to take photos and film during the ritual, but even though I took advantage of this rare opportunity, I also felt so, incredibly awkward the entire time. "Oh, they're bowing, okay, this is a nice angle, oh, I wish the shutter weren't so freaking loud."

My homestay father burning the... well, burning something, which signaled the end of the ritual.

Some of the dishes prepared at the altar. Rice cake, fried vegetable pancakes, and a chicken!

After the memorial service, we ate all the food that was on the table. I'm just going to say that 송편 is delicious. It's probably the closest thing to mochi that you'll find in Korea. And then we ate ice cream and watched TV. Iron Man 2 was playing on a movie channel!

This is 송편 (songpyeon), rice balls filled with sweet stuff (in this case, sweet soybean paste).

In the afternoon, we set out for a mountainous area near Gyeongsan, a city southeast of Daegu, for the purpose of performing another 차례 지내기 at the actual grave of my homestay father's parents. We were joined by thousands of other families -- I'm not exaggerating -- who created an hours-long traffic jam in the mountains where the cemetery is located. I get the sense that most cemeteries in Korea are in the mountains; this obviously has something to do with Korea's very un-flat geography, but I wonder if it is also rooted in some traditional interpretations of spirituality and high elevation?

The hillside cemetery we visited, somewhere near Gyeongsan, with many families dotting the terraces.

Remembering 할머니 and 할아버지.

One thing is for sure: being in the mountains meant that the cemetery was gorgeous. It was very well-kept by thousands of people coming back to tend to it at least once a year, and the view from where we were was quite nice. Overall, the atmosphere at the cemetery was in fact more jovial, thanks to beautiful weather and lunch. Yes, after performing the memorial service, every family would take the food from the tombstone, spread out a blanket, and proceed to picnic. That was unexpected, I will confess. But it was also pleasant. There was more 송편! And fruits and bibimbap, too. We had a late lunch, and when we finished it was time to head back to Changwon.

Picnic time! The husbands drink and the wives prepare some bibimbap from this morning's leftovers.

Beautiful bouquets at every grave. They were all synthetic flowers, though! That's why they're so bright and perfect-looking.

On the long drive home (seriously, every highway in the country had a 교통 채증, or traffic jam, today), we passed a gorgeous sunset.

This was somewhere between Miryang and Changwon. I love Korea in the fall. Today's weather was so beautiful; I'm glad the typhoon that was slated to hit Korea today veered off course a few days ago. (It would've been the fifth!)

I'm going to close with two questions for my readers, especially if you are Korean. First, I've heard from three separate grown Korean women that Chuseok and other 명절 (myeongjeol), or traditional holidays, are incredibly work-intensive for the wives and mothers of a family, mostly because the food preparation takes forever and the men aren't expected to help. Because of this, they are sometimes resentful. For "progressive" Korean families, either in Korea or in the States, where gender roles are not as set in stone, is the workload ever shared among members of the family? And in the States, is the work actually less intense, in some respects, since less food is required and a cemetery visit is, in most cases, not possible?

Secondly, Chuseok obviously has deep roots in Confucianism. For Christian Korean families, how does this play out? I've noted earlier the dynamics of "ancestor worship" and harmless custom. Does Chuseok look different to a family that does not follow Confucian ideals?

And that's all! Happy Chuseok, everyone!

Typhoon Sanba

Another typhoon made school a shade more interesting today! Typhoon Sanba, one of the strongest of the 2012 season, made landfall last night and strengthened continuously until this afternoon. Although there seemed to be more media hype about Bolaven, the underwhelming storm we got three weeks ago, Samba was actually pretty rough. You see, while Bolaven was menacingly large, it managed to miss the Korean peninsula and swept upward off the west coast without making landfall. But Sanba was a small yet powerful typhoon that cut straight across the southeastern part of the country. It passed right through my province and wreaked havoc in many areas.

From what I saw on the news tonight, most of the damage was due to flooding. There was even footage from Masan, which is the southwestern district of my city, Changwon, and is fairly close to sea level. The roads were completely submerged. Elsewhere, crop fields and orchards were ruined, landslides occurred, roofs blew away, and semis toppled over onto cars. That giant sand wall I saw on Haeundae Beach on Saturday? It has been obliterated.

But I didn't know any of that this morning. So today, although I had to go to school (which is almost never canceled for my students, who live in a dormitory on campus and can get to their classes in complete safety), I wasn't worried in the slightest. Typhoon? NBD. I've got a crappy umbrella, I'll be fine. Ha. Fortunately, my host father drove me to campus to save me a soaked and soggy walk; once I got to my office, I felt secure. The power didn't even go out once! Throughout the morning, the wind grew stronger and stronger, until it was blowing water into the rooms from the cracks between the windows and the window sills. That was something I hadn't seen before... In fact, roofs and walls at the school were leaking all over the place. But there wasn't any flooding.

I taught three classes today, normal for a Monday. And to my surprise, by the time I finished in the afternoon, the storm had passed in its entirety, and I even saw bits of blue sky in the distance.

So that's that for the third typhoon I've lived and taught through in Korea. I'm kind of hoping that there won't be any more, because they really are a nuisance (at the most benign) and an alarming catastrophe (at their worst). And it's almost autumn, so I want it to feel like that now.

A Day in Busan (부산)

Evening in Busan, the city by the sea! It reminds me of San Francisco... (They even have a baseball team called the Giants.)

New flash: Andrew actually got out of Changwon for a day to visit other Fulbrighters! Surprise, surprise! Since Departure Day, which was over three weeks ago, I have not seen any of my colleagues in person, or even gone to any other city for a bit of fun (Daejeon didn't count). Today, I spent a drizzly but wonderful day in "Dynamic" Busan, the huge coastal city that is the south's answer to Seoul.

For my own future reference... it should take me less than two hours to get to the center of Busan. Today, it took me almost three, but that is mostly my fault, as I totally missed my first bus stop and got lost in my own city even before I had left it. The buses leave from Changwon (Masan Intercity Bus Terminal/마산시외버스터미널) every fifteen minutes or so for most of the day, and arrive at the Busan Seobu Intercity Bus Terminal/부산서부시외버스터미널 in 45 minutes. And then, the subway ride from Sasang Station/사상역 to what I would assume is the central downtown area takes another 45 minutes. The bus fare was 3,500 Won (about $3), although the return trip was 3,700 Won; for the Busan metro, I used my T-money card as I have been doing with Changwon buses, and it deducts at least 1,100 Won for each ride, plus a bit more if I travel far.

All in all, the travel is really quite cheap and not inconvenient in the least. I'm relieved, because on maps, Changwon always seemed so far away.

Ground floor entrance to Shinsegae. It's like a palace!

So what did I do in Busan? The first stop was the Shinsegae Department Store (신세계), whose branch in Busan happens to be the largest department store/shopping mall in all of Asia. It was pretty darn huge. And not only was there shopping, but there is a three-story Spaworld attached to it, as well as an ice skating rink of the fourth floor! (There's also an H&M! I will be back.)

While my friends were finishing up a morning at the spa, I wandered around Shinsegae's six floors, realized that I couldn't afford anything, and then sat by the ice skating rink to watch people go around in circles. It was nice and relaxing, although not as much as a three-hour spa treatment might have been, haha.

When I met up with the other Fulbrighters (Payal, Monica, and Hilary from Busan, and Jet, Thomas, and Taylor visiting from Daegu), we had lunch at the department store food court. I had my first 오무라이스 (omurice) in Korea! And it was absolutely delicious, as expected.

The first familiar faces I've seen in three weeks. Glad they're all smiling!

The Daegu crew had to leave soon after, so the Busan girls and I went on our own adventure: beaches on a rainy day! The drizzle was on and off all afternoon, but that didn't stop us. We went to Gwangalli Beach to see the Gwangan Bridge (광안대교). It's supposed to be very pretty when its lit up at night, but on this overcast afternoon, it simply blended into the steel gray sky. Still pretty, in a different way.

Gwangan Bridge from Gwangalli Beach.

On Gwangalli Beach, I had a fantastic time collecting some of the beautiful seashells (조개껍데리) that were everywhere. Monica commented that Gwangalli Beach seemed to have more litter than the more popular Haeundae Beach. It's true that Haeundae was clean and beautiful, but as far as I could tell, the objects that "littered" the Gwangalli sands the most plentifully were actually thousands of seashells, some of them quite large. I pocketed some of the prettiest that I could find.

Hilary and Monica with their large seashells.

Seashells on Gwangalli Beach

This might have been my favorite part of the day. Despite the drizzle (보슬보슬), it was still relaxing and peaceful on the beach. I think a beach is always relaxing, unless it's stormy. Speaking of which, another typhoon is supposed to hit South Korea starting from tomorrow evening. I guess today's weather was just a harbinger of worse that is to come.

But I wasn't thinking about that, really. It was just nice to chat and catch up with friends. We mostly talked about our schools and our lives with the homestay experience. All of us have enough stories to last days! Well, everyone else has plenty of stories. My life has been kind of boring in comparison, to be honest...

It strikes me every time just how different my school is from (almost) everyone else's. The best stories (and by best, I guess I mean funniest and most shocking) are those that recount the lengths to which some of us Fulbrighters must go in order to discipline unruly students or out-of-control classes.

When it comes down to it, I myself could never imagine playing "Mean Teacher Andrew", and I'm just grateful that my students are so astoundingly well-behaved. Hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the butt as the semester goes on!

Payal and the beautiful conch shell she found on the beach.

After Gwangalli, our group took a cab to Haeundae (해운대), arguably the better and more popular beach in Busan. Well, it's definitely larger and cleaner. But I couldn't tell you anything about popularity, since the rain and the approaching storm left the beach nearly deserted. I did notice one family having a cute picnic on a blanket and under a few umbrellas.

Also at Haeundae, which as a whole is considered the ritzy social neighborhood, we chanced upon some sort of festival (or tournament, maybe?) for computer games. There were two guys playing Starcraft, and their game was being displayed on a giant screen. And yes, there was an audience of at least one hundred, decked out in rain ponchos and completely engrossed in the action. It was so amusing. At one point, the cameramen of the event, who would sometimes pan the crowd in between action sequences of the game, pointed their lenses at us! And we showed up on the giant screen, much to our amusement (and embarrassment). I caught that part on video, and I'll put it up here sometime...

The World Cyber Games festival. Did you know that in South Korea, video gaming is considered a pro sport?

As we continued walking east along the beach, we also came across this giant sandbar (or, I guess it's a dike?) that was created as a safety measure against the typhoon's giant waves. It was essentially a huge wall of sand, and we took a short stroll on top of it!

I love Monica's rainbow umbrella!

Then, we found a Mango Six cafe and stopped for mango smoothies, dried mangoes, and mango fro-yo (which was phenomenal -- I'll have to visit again). And again, we just chatted about life in the present and life plans for the future. It was so pleasant having people to talk to who have had experiences similar to mine, never mind that it comprises a mere six weeks spent in Orientation.

Hilary and I were matching perfectly! We're both wearing red pants that we bought in Korea. I promise we didn't coordinate. Haha, this is such a happy photo! (taken by Payal)

For dinner, we went to a Mexican bar/restaurant called Fuzzy Navel (...?) in Haeundae. I guess it's becoming a habit of mine to find a Mexican place when I go to a larger city in Korea... I suppose I'll do it again when go visit Daegu and Gwangju! Anyway, at Fuzzy Navel I got a chicken avocado burrito, and although the tortilla was strangely crispy, it was overall a fantastic burrito worth the 11,500 Won. I wouldn't recommend getting any of the smaller dishes; portions were 작은변이예요. Also, if you're craving guacamole, the stuff here is pricey and a bit bland. But my burrito was good! :3

Dinner at Fuzzy Navel. Nachos and cheese! Salsa! Guac! Burrito! 멕시코음식! (taken by Payal)

The very last thing for the day was a quick trip to Seomyeong (서명), which is where a lot of the nightlife happens. It reminded me of Hongdae in Seoul; there were tons of bars, restaurants, and interesting shops open late. Pedestrians were everywhere, and it looked like a great, younger crowd, something I haven't been able to locate yet in Changwon. There is also an underground mall (yeah, like a 地下街!) here, which is apparently called a 프리멀 (Primall). Finding it was a nice surprise! I'll definitely be back to Seomeyong soon!

Nighttime scene in Seomyeon. It was busy and lively, but it wasn't hot or crowded. I wish I'd had more time to explore!

So that was my day in Busan. I had a great time, and I've already decided to go back a few more times this semester. Thanks, fellow Fulbrighters, for showing me around!

Typhoon Update & First Class

The big typhoon (태풍; taepung) that was expected to wreak havoc on the Korean peninsula ended up swinging a bit wide of land and traveled northward off the west coast (서안; seo-an). Here in Changwon, which is on the east coast (동안; dongan), we've been left basically unscathed. According to the weather report (일기 예보), Bolaven has already been downgraded from a typhoon to a tropical storm. It is currently drenching Seoul, the capital of South Korea which is far north of where I am, and will move on into China by tonight.

Having experienced summer typhoons in Asia previously, I was never really worried. During typhoons, my typical modus operandi is simply to stay inside and listen to the wind rage. It's kind of comforting and kind of bizarre to see many Koreans completely unperturbed. Last night, I watched the news with my host family; they were showing footage from Typhoon Maemi (메미), a catastrophic category-5 that hit in 2003. Seeing the floods and the incredible damage done almost ten years ago was kind of jarring, but otherwise the newscasters were very calm. They had a segment on demonstrating ways to prevent your windows from being shattered by high winds. Some of these methods include sticking wet newspapers (신문; shinmun) to your windows or reinforcing them with tape (it's like trussing, except it isn't...). I was highly skeptical of what tape and paper could do against 60mph winds, but my younger host brother was convinced. He gathered up old newspapers around the house and a huge bowl of water and was all ready to go before my host parents told him it wasn't necessary. Haha!

Anyway, everything at school is chill, too. My students live in on-campus dorms; they don't even have to go outside to get to the classrooms. So apart from wind rattling the windows on occassion, my classroom also remains unaffected by the typhoon.

Speaking of which, I did just teach my first class! It was a simple lesson on classroom rules and introductory questions. I had them ask me twenty questions about myself (of course, I got "Do you have a girlfriend?"), and then we played Human Bingo, which was a total hit. Surprisingly, my second-years have good English comprehension. I was expecting to have to explain things very, very simply, but all I did was talk at a lower speed and use cue words, and everything went smoothly. In fact, the class was so fun that it got really loud at one point, but I had neglected to teach them any sort of quiet-down signal, because I didn't expect to have to use one!

They say that science high school and advanced high school students' biggest problem is sleeping in class, because their intense studying schedules leave them exhausted daily. Well, my hope is to bring out as much energy as I can, and enthusiasm for learning English. I can see that they have it; I just have to tap into that potential. I hope my students like me, because I'm impressed with them already! It'll take me a while to learn all of their names, but with fewer than two hundred students total (about twenty-five in each class), I think I can do it.