Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Haeinsa, a Jewel Temple of Korea

伽倻山海印寺, 가야산해인사, Gayasan Haeinsa
Korea has three famous Buddhist temples called the "Three Jewel Temples". One, called Songgwangsa (송광사), is near Suncheon, and I visited it on Buddha's birthday last year. Another, called Tongdosa (통도사), is located in Yangsan. The third is called Haeinsa (해인사/海印寺), and it is located deep in the Gaya mountains, west of Daegu.

The Three Jewels of Buddhism (삼보/三寶) are its three principle objects of guidance:
1. Buddha himself (불/佛), which usually refers to sarira, or holy relics
2. Dharma (법/法), or the teachings of Buddhism
3. Sangha (승/僧), the Buddhist community, which usually refers to monks and nuns

Each of these Jewels is represented by one of the Jewel Temples. Songgwangsa has a famous monk training center, so it represents 승. Tongdosa has a famous pagoda that supposedly houses some of the Buddha's remains; it represents 불. Haeinsa, then, is the symbol of 법. What Haeinsa is renowned for is the Tripitaka Koreana (팔만 대장경), an ancient collection of 80,000 wooden printing blocks that contains the complete Buddhist scriptures.
My co-teachers and me at Haeinsa. No photos allowed of the real Tripitaka Koreana, so this poster had to suffice!
Today, I went on a field trip to Haeinsa with the English department faculty. It's the middle of finals week, so we don't have much work to do. The school sponsored our trip, partly as a way to thank me for my two years at the school, and partly because they probably realized that I have never done anything "just for fun" with my co-teachers. I mean, we attended a TOEFL conference last fall, and we go to the all-faculty outings, but this was actually the first time that just the four of us did something together that was unrelated to work!

I really enjoyed it as a change of pace. I've been constantly busy for months now, and to be able to take a break in the middle of the week for the first time since April was delightful. It helped that today was a gorgeous day, humid but not overwhelmingly hot. Also, since it was a weekday, the temple had very few visitors. I'm sure that on weekends, the grounds are buzzing with tourists, but it was peaceful and serene today. Like all Korean temples, it was gorgeous, and the natural environment was refreshing. The air somehow tasted better than it does in factory-clogged Changwon.
One of the smaller buildings in the Haeinsa temple complex. The colors are amazing!
Our vice principal wanted to make sure that I got a bit of cultural education out of the excursion, so here's what I learned: Haeinsa is located near Mt. Gaya (in Gayasan National Park). Mt. Gaya is a spiritual place important to Buddhism; the name may refer to the place in India where Buddha achieved enlightenment or to the ancient Korean Gaya Confederacy, which was annexed by the Silla kingdom in the 6th century. Haeinsa was founded in the year 802 during the Silla period. It has been renovated many times due to damage from fire and war, most recently in 1964, I believe. This was two years after Korea added the Tripitaka Koreana to its list of national treasures. In 1995, the temple and the scriptures were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list.

The name Haeinsa is a bit odd, because, according to the plaque I read, it refers to a Buddhist philosophical state of consciousness during which "a reflection on a calm sea after struggling against wind and waves enables everything to be conscious of its true nature." It's a nice concept, of course, but I don't understand why this temple located nowhere near the ocean has such a name.
The lantern-lined labyrinth of the temple grounds. Once you enter, you have no choice to walk the entire thing!
This temple came to house the famous Buddhist scriptures in 1398. The Tripitaka Koreana is the world's oldest and most complete version of the Buddhist scriptures in Chinese script (한자). There are 81,350 wooden printing blocks into which are carved over 52 million Chinese characters! The entire thing took 16 years to complete.

All of these blocks are currently housed in a special building at the top of a hill overlooking the rest of the complex. We were not allowed inside the building or even to take photos, but it honestly didn't look so impressive. It reminded me of the basement stacks of a library: rows and rows of heavy old books that nobody ever touches. Still, I was in awe, just knowing what was inside the room as we peered through the windows. Although the building is plain, it is said to have been designed in such a way that the wooden blocks can stay in their preserved state for centuries -- and they certainly have!
A gorgeous panel painting inside the main hall, 대적광전 (Daejeokkwangjeon).
Besides the temple, which was nice enough to walk around (but, in the end, still looked like every other temple I've visited, and the same goes for cathedrals and shrines), there was a kind of art exhibition going on. I don't know if the sculptures we saw were permanent or temporary, but I really enjoyed looking at them. This is in part because seeing the sculptures was so incongruous with what I've come to expect from a Korean temple. But they were also beautiful and profound.

The one below is a bronze sculpture of a Sitting Buddha that has been split cleanly in half. Its title was something like, "The Sound of Buddha"; I can't recall correctly. But it was quite mesmerizing.
What's in the space between?
And the other sculpture that really held my attention was this giant bamboo thing right by the main gate. It was called "Third Eye Within" or something along those lines. If you look carefully, you can see a smaller figure nested within the larger figure.
It reminds me a bit of Burning Man...
My day looked like this: my co-teachers and I had a late lunch at one of the tourist restaurants that served typical Korean Buddhist cuisine (think lots of mountain herbs, mushrooms, and 반찬, and no red meat), walked around the temple grounds for an hour, chilled at the temple's cafe (?!), and popped into the museum to see some more Buddhist art and more reproductions of the wooden printing blocks. The museum also had a Lego miniature of the temple grounds, I kid you not. I have no idea why. Anyway, by 5pm, we were ready to go home, and I slept almost all the way back.

I'm still feeling quite relaxed from our trip, and I am so very glad we were given this opportunity. Now that I have two of the Three Jewel Temples down, why shouldn't I try for the third? Yangsan is only an hour away!

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If you want to visit Haeinsa, the Korea tourism website can help you! If you don't have a car, you'll have to go via bus from Daegu Seobu Terminal, which takes an hour and a half. Temple stays are offered and weekends.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Good Words

My taekgyeon master is already a very hardworking man, but lately his schedule has veered toward slightly insane territory. Since he began working toward his doctorate in sports psychology, he's had to drive to Daegu, one and a half hours away, each week to attend classes. But now he has to complete the English language requirement, which has taken the form of a three-week long intensive English course that meets Monday through Friday. So now, every morning, he drives to Daegu, listens to a lecture he barely understands and takes notes in a language he barely knows how to write, and then returns to Changwon for the start of afternoon taekgyeon classes that run until 11pm. It's an insane schedule, and after just one week, I can already see how fatigue is taking its toll.

At 11pm each night, after my taekgyeon class, I tutor him for an hour on whatever the day's lecture covered. And I'm almost appalled by the difficulty of the content of this English class. It's a crash course on formal grammar that covers things like SVO word order, past perfect versus past participle, and the different varieties of subject complements. Today, I had to explain the six forms of the English subjunctive to him... in Korean.

I'm not surprised so many people have an aversion to English. If this is the way it's taught, if this is the English that aspiring academics are required to master before even knowing how to ask for the time, then how can we honestly expect anyone to enjoy learning a second language?

What's worse than the fact that my taekgyeon master is being forced to sit through this no-holds-barred, all-or-nothing course for three weeks is that his English level is very low to begin with. Imagine that you have a basic grasp of the American Sign Language alphabet and knew a few popular stock phrases, like "I love you" or "Thank you." Now learn the structure of ASL in three weeks in a class conducted only in ASL. There are two exams. If you don't pass them, you fail the course and can't get your doctoral degree. Capiche?

My taekgyeon master is visibly stressed and probably feels a little bit hopeless. I've realized over the past week that not only is he a complete novice at English grammar, he doesn't have a firm grasp on Korean grammar, either. I find myself explaining why a word can be both a noun and also a subject at the same time -- or at least, trying to explain in my very limited Korean. It's a struggle for both of us.

On the bright side, he's making measurable improvements. Sometimes he comes across something that he knows he's studied before, and it clicks perfectly. Also, his reading fluency is progressing nicely. It's sheer desperation that's doing it, I think.

And as for me, well, my Korean is getting lots of practice, and I'm learning useful terms for grammatical concepts, like verb infinitive (원형) or prepositional idiomatic expressions (전치사 숙어). Of course I'm glad to be helping my taekgyeon master, but it's nice for me to learn from this, as well.

At the end of our tutoring session tonight, as the clock struck midnight, my taekgyeon master sighed and expressed his concern about his first exam on Wednesday. "힘들어요," he said. "It's hard."

"Right," I replied. I then paused as I searched for the right grammatical form to use, one I'd just picked up fifteen minutes prior as we reviewed the subjunctive. "하지만, 쉽더라면 할 가치 없을텐데요?" I said. "But if it were easy, it wouldn't be worth doing, would it?"

I probably made some errors in that statement. (Correct me if that's the case.) But my taekgyeon master nodded his head thoughtfully. "고마워요. 좋은 말이예요," he said. "Thanks. Those are good words."

제 생각에는, 사람이 예전에 할 가능 없다고 믿었는 것에서 성공하면 가장 좋은 성취감을 들 수가 있습니다. I think our greatest sense of achievement as human beings comes when we accomplish that which we were once certain we could not do.

Now if only all my English lessons could double as character-building lessons...

Sunday, June 29, 2014

The Second Final Dinner

One year ago, Fulbright held the closing ceremony for the 2012-2013 grant year. I wrote in my blog then that the event was nice, but didn't feel so much like the end of everything for a few reasons: it was still a few weeks before the actual end of the grant, the programming was filled with talks and performances, which left little time to reminisce with friends, and, most importantly, it wasn't actually the end. Last year's "final dinner" was actually just the midpoint of my Fulbright grant period. I left the event knowing that although I was saying goodbye to some of my friends, I certainly wasn't leaving Korea: this country and I still had a whole entire year ahead of us

And now that year is over.

This past weekend was my second Fulbright Final Dinner, and it was also the last. Was it different? Surprisingly, I think it was a bit less nostalgic and emotional. I mean, it was largely the same as last year's ceremony, but I knew even fewer people. Still, as always, I enjoyed seeing my friends and having a blast in Seoul for a short weekend.

I was foolish enough to bring my camera but not my battery, so I couldn't take any nice photos over the weekend! I guess I'll have to use thousands of words instead. Haha, kidding, here are some highlights:

1. Volume 7, issue 2 of the Fulbright Infusion was released at the dinner! It is a beautiful magazine, and I'm excited to share it with my students and colleagues. Check out the website, too, to see some of my photos and pieces that were published!

2. A Fulbright Korea alumnus who did his grant year about twenty years ago was a guest at the final dinner, and even though he is a complete stranger, he came up to me and asked, "Hey, you write a blog, don't you?" Apparently, I have some dedicated readers who aren't just my Facebook friends! This little surprise made me very happy.

3. I went back to Acousticholic! Unfortunately, we only caught the tail end of my friend's performance that night, but it was great to catch up with him afterward. This guy is working for JYP Entertainment as a songwriter. I swear he's going to be really big one day...
Food from The Beastro in Hongdae (#6). Also, I'm about to stab my 삼겹살 sliders. Photo courtesy Neal Singleton!
4. A fundraising organization called Running 4 Resettlement, which was founded by a group of current Fulbrighters, held an event at a new restaurant in Hongdae called The Beastro. Donating money to help North Korean defectors adjust comfortably to life in South Korea? Check. Good drinks and company? Check. Chilling in on an open rooftop terrace in Hongdae on a cool summer night? Check.

5. That night, I stayed at a 24-hour sauna called Siloam (신로암), near Seoul Station. It's an amazing sauna, far better than any I've been to (though I haven't yet paid a visit to SpaLand in Busan...). I tried all the different hot baths and steam rooms, including one with walls made of charcoal and one that was like a pit of heated salt rocks. My friends and I chatted in the steam rooms and played Contact until three in the morning! (I may write more about this sauna at a later date, although it's too bad I didn't take any pictures!)

6. Lunch at The Beastro on Sunday morning. This restaurant is amazing! Need proof? Check hungryinhongdae. Also, more ice cream at Fell+Cole, where I finally redeemed the stamp card I've been using for a whole year. 
Katelyn, Clara, and me at Fell+Cole.
7. Followed by shopping -- I got a new shirt (and am now worried about what I'm going to do with all the clothes I've accumulated in this country over the past two years) and a nice afternoon 노래방 (karaoke room) session with friends.

And just like that, a too-short weekend came to an end. Final exams at my school begin tomorrow, which means I will still have nothing to do all day besides input grades, take care of administrative stuff, and... get things ready for the Fulbright teacher who will replace me next semester. Whoever they are, they will say hello to South Korea in one week. (Orientation begins for the new Fulbright class next Monday.) And one month after that, I will say goodbye!

Friday, June 27, 2014

Hangulish T-Shirt

Warning: weird hodgepodge of esoteric linguistic terminology and dumbed-down descriptions of said terminology, as well as smatterings of Korean, straight ahead!

But look left first, before you cross. See the t-shirt? I spotted it while walking around downtown Changwon the other day, and I found it so clever that I just had to take a photo. Why? Look at the writing closely. At first glance, it looks like a list of city names: Seoul, New York, Tokyo... but wait. That's not an "S" at the beginning of Seoul. And the "W" in New York is... pi? What is "Tofyo"? Hm... is this Konglish?

Well, it is, but it's not nonsense "Engrish"-type typography, exactly. What look like mistakes are actually a simple linguistic puzzle. The character that has been subbed in for the "S" in Seoul is a Hangul (1) letter, ㅅ (pronounced she-ut). It makes the "s" sound in Korean, an aspirated alveolar fricative [s]. So, that word still reads "Seoul", but more accurately, in a sense, than the romanized spelling does.

Next, you've got the "you" sound in "New York", represented by the Hangul ㅠ [ju], which has replaced "W". Tokyo's "K" has been replaced with ㅋ [k], the aspirated velar stop.

The next three are an interesting set, because they illustrate the versatility of the Korean liquid /l/ quite well. The letter ㄹ (pronounced ree-ul... or lee-ur... or, actually, let's forget trying to use English for this) is an alveolar liquid, but it changes its expression depending on where in a word it's located. Between vowels, as in the word "Paris", it turns into an alveolar flap [ɾ], like the sound Americans make in the middle of "butter". Same for Milano. Word-initially, however, ㄹ can sound like a flap or like a typical English [l]. So the first letter of "London" has been replaced with the ㄹ, too.

A word to the wise: ㄹ is never a purely rhotic sound; that is, it is never like the American "arrr"! But it is certainly the closest approximation that Korean has for the American [r/ɹ], the American [l], or even the French [χ/ʁ], which is the guttural sound in Paris, which is why one letter is used to transcribe all three foreign sounds (which is why some Koreans are confused about r and l in English).

Here are those city names again, in complete Hangul and in IPA according to the Korean pronunciation:
Seoul = 서울 = [sʰʌ.ul] = SUH-ool
New York = 뉴욕 = [njuː.jok̚] = nyoo-YOHK
Tokyo = 도쿄 = [to.kʰjo] = doe-KYO
London = 런던 = [lʌn.dʌn] = LUN-dun
Milano = 밀라노 = [miːl.la.no] = MEEL-lah-no

Anyway... hope you found this bit of phonetics/phonology interesting. If I ever see that shirt for sale, I'm probably going to buy it.

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(1) Hangul is the name for the Korean writing system. It literally means "Korean writing": 한글.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

No News Is...

무소식이 희소식이다.

They say no news is good news, but when media censorship is involved, no news is actually cause for concern. My co-teachers have often told me, with hints of indignation, that there is a lot more social and political unrest in their country than most people are aware of. They mention vigils and protests that are being held in Seoul -- that have been taking place, in fact, for months upon months -- for various causes, but the newspapers never report on these stories. Of course, from my perspective, it's clear that one reason I am not too aware of the goings-on in South Korea is that I'm not tuned into the news, and my Korean skills are not up to the task of understanding more than the photo captions of the daily papers in the teachers' lounge. But since my co-teachers are convinced that the political powers that be are messing with media output, whatever I do happen to read, I look at with a more critical eye than usual.

So, I was surprised yesterday when a student asked me at the beginning of class, "Teacher, have you heard the news? A soldier killed some other soldiers in Gangwon-do." This absolutely shocked me. Instead of beginning the lesson, I went to the computer, and my class followed along as I did some Google searches to find out what had happened.

Here's an article from the Wall Street Journal that explains: last Saturday, an ROK soldier, a second-class officer, threw a grenade at and opened fire on his comrades. He then ran away from the scene, and a two-day manhunt ensued. Finally, the soldier was cornered on Monday. He attempted to commit suicide but failed, and was then captured. All of this happened in the northern province called Gangwon-do, which borders North Korea. Lots of soldiers are stationed near the DMZ, and the environment is isolated and stressful.

My students all knew the story, but I was completely shocked. I thought that if something as crazy as a multiple homicide in the ROK army had occurred, then it would be all over the news. Have I just been completely oblivious for the past few days?

After class, I visited my go-to Korean news website, koreannewsfeeds.com. This handy resource collects top stories in translation from the main national newspapers as well as posts from popular blogs related to South Korea. As I scrolled through the feed, I found very few articles that mentioned this incident. This article from the Korea Herald details the events that unfolded on Saturday, as does this one from Yonhap News. This one from JoongAng Daily probes into the soldier's troubled psychological condition.

While basic information about the incident was widely reported, I found myself wondering, "Is that all?" I expected a bigger national response. It's not like this is an everyday story. My suspicion is that the incident is being downplayed as much as possible. When shootings happen in the US -- and they do so with desperate and depressing regularity -- the media has a field day. News travels fast on social media, and everyone begins to weigh in. Not just on the basic information, either: soon, back stories are excavated, insignificant details are examined, and conspiracy theories are established. One tragic event stretches into a week of media frenzy (and usually ends there). But the response to this shooting spree, which left five young men dead, has been quite muted, as far as I can tell.

It's nothing like the media response to April's Sewol ferry disaster. I'm curious about why... Does it have to do with the fact that the ROK military was involved? One of the few more peculiar snippets to come out of last weekend's story was the discovery that after the perpetrator had been apprehended and was being transported to a hospital for treatment, the military used a decoy of the soldier to divert media attention. A random soldier with his body covered was loaded into an ambulance as the reporters looked on, while the real soldier was rushed to the hospital from a different location. When people realized that they had been deceived, the response was swift and angry. The Korea Herald reports: "the military's handling of the incident has damaged public trust", which had "already been eroded by the bungled efforts to capture the sergeant."

The story makes me laugh, but it's interesting to me because I don't know which side to take. I can sympathize with the military not wanting the media frenzy for the sake of doing their job efficiently, but it also seems like they've had a hand in a part of the media cover-up of this whole ordeal. I certainly wouldn't want every newspaper reporting on how it took too long after the initial shooting to issue a security warning or questioning why one man on foot evaded capture for nearly two days. Hence, the deception. On the other hand, the cynic in me maintains that it's naive to think the media will ever cooperate with anything other than itself. Anything for a good story, even if it means spreading general panic.

Anyway, it's strange, but it seems like this extremely unusual news story is already on its way out. Tomorrow, South Korea will play Belgium in the World Cup, and articles about this event, which has not even happened yet, are already headlining. Also, the political circus surrounding the Park administration's preposterous failure to appoint a new Prime Minister is drumming up clicks. The old PM resigned because of the Sewol fiasco, but then the two subsequent nominees for his replacement were discovered to be crooked and crazy, respectively, so the old PM is not being temporarily reinstated. Here's an overview from the Hankyoreh.

Speaking of Sewol, the adolescent survivors of the ferry sinking, who were on a school field trip, resumed classes today. This was the headliner for this morning's paper (here's one story from the Korea Herald). Photos of parents crying as they embraced the students walking up to the school gates were so, so sad. This story continues to wrench my heart.

One more body was retrieved from the wreckage earlier this week, that of a female student of the school. That makes 172 survivors, 293 now confirmed dead. There are 11 still missing. No news...

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

A Visit from Old Students

Always a pleasure when old students come back to visit! Now that colleges have let out for summer break, the stream of visitors has noticeably increased (seven in two days, in fact). SY, YJ, and EJ hung out today, and it was curious to see how much they'd grown up. Well, it's only been a few months since I saw them last, but college can quickly change a person, can't it? They all reported that they missed their high school friends a lot and that university-level English was very difficult. At the top schools in the country, all of the freshman year classes are conducted in English. Ridiculous, isn't it? But they seem happy and healthy, and I'm so glad we got to catch up.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

The Fulbright Researchers (2014)

Last year, I wrote a very long post that detailed the research projects of the Fulbright Junior Researchers. (They make up the other "half" of Fulbright Korea; every year we have about 120 teachers and two dozen researchers.) Though I'd planned to do the same after this year's spring conference, I quickly became too busy to transcribe my notes.

This morning, while cleaning my desk, I came across them again. They're not as pretty or doodly as my notes from last year, but I still think the information is worth putting down somewhere. So, better late than never, here are brief descriptions of some of the 2014 Fulbright Researchers' projects:

Multicultural Korea
Dorry Guerra informed us that in 2010, 1 in 3 Korean births were multicultural -- that is, babies were born to one ethnically Korean parent and one non-Korean parent. Korea now leads the world in international marriages. This is a cultural phenomenon due largely to the fact that men in rural areas of Korea can't find wives, so they marry immigrant women from China or Southeast Asia. In a sense, these women are mail-order brides, but whatever their circumstances, they arrive in Korea and then they and their families have trouble fitting in. Korea's bloodline ideology, the idea that Korea is one completely homogeneous race and should stay that way, is actually a recent bit of propaganda that promoted national solidarity in the early 20th century, back when the country was in a shambles. Now that that is changing, what is going to happen to the multicultural families? (By the way, Korea is not nearly as homogeneous as the history books like to claim: their blood has been pretty well mixed with Chinese, Japanese, and Mongolian over the centuries.) According to Ms Guerra's estimates, up to 10% of the country will be multicultural by 2050. That's a huge jump from one generation ago. She warns that belief in racial essentialism, or the idea that the different races have deeply-rooted "essences", is a reliable predictor of stereotyping, prejudice, and conflict. So if Koreans generally believe in racial essentialism, then multicultural Korea is in for a rough ride for the next few decades.

Chaebols
Mike Chung gave an economic lecture on the Korean 재벌, or conglomerate. The word chaebol is derived from the Chinese 財閥 (cai2fa2), or "wealth clan". These rose to power during the regime of Park Chung-hee in the 1970s. His government, to put it frankly and with a touch of bias, allowed certain businesses to cheat for the sake of national economic growth. Now, the conglomerates hold unimaginable power over the country. They are seen as both necessary for its success and dangerous and unfair for a developed country that needs to switch to a more fair-play mode.

Korean Adoption
Hollee McGinnis (who was published in the last issue of the Fulbright Infusion!) talked about the mental health of adolescent adoptees and orphans. Following the brutal Korean War in the 1950s that ripped many families apart, 2 million children without parents have been sent to orphanages. In contrast, 85,000 have been sent abroad for adoption, and less than half that number have been adopted domestically. The statistics for 2010 alone show that 15,700 children needed care, 1,400 were adopted domestically, and 1,000 were adopted internationally. There were 8,590 abandoned infants. So the problem of parentless Korean children is not just (or no longer) a direct result of war. But adoption is still stigmatized in this country: it is usually carried out in secret so that a family's friends and neighbors don't know that the new child is actually from another family. Infants are preferred over children and adolescents. Also, because sons in a family usually perform ancestral rites on traditional holidays, and without a direct blood connection this can be seen as wrong, females are also preferred over males. So, Mrs McGinnis' organization, Also-Known-As, provides help and support to adoptees as well as their families.

(Another researcher, Andrea Cavicchi, also focused on adoption, especially on its history -- the 1962 Family Planning system instituted by Park Chung-hee, the controversy surrounding "baby-selling" during the 1988 Seoul Olympics -- and on the issues that make it so enticing for unwed mothers to give away their children. In fact, tens of thousands of orphans do not actually indicate that Korea has an orphan problem. It has a child abandonment problem.)

Nuclear Energy
Andrew Ju told us that South Korea imports 97% of its energy. That's quite a lot, but understandable for a country that has so few natural resources. Unfortunately, less than 1% of the energy that the country does produce is renewable. On the other hand, Korea's nuclear program, which began in 1978, is the fastest-growing in the world, and it exports a ton of its nuclear energy. (Well, these statistics may have come before the near-nuclear meltdown at the Kori Nuclear Power Plant in 2012, which led to some shutdowns and public outcry against nuclear power. And then there's Fukushima...) Anyway, South Korea wants to continue using nuclear energy, especially since it stands to gain quite a bit from an energy alliance with the US. But I personally hope that it decides instead to lead the world in green energy.

Healthcare and Migrant Women
Sangita Annamalai cited the rapid birth rate decline in Korea (now at 1.24 children per woman, the 5th lowest in the world) and connected it to the rise of immigrant wives for men in rural Korea. The subject matter is related to Ms Guerra's project on multiculturalism, but Ms Annamalai focused on the women themselves and on the public health resources made available to them in a country and language not their own. She went to public and private migrant shelters in rural and urban areas, where women who came to Korea through marriage brokers and found themselves struggling could go for help. There, she found that Chinese (or Chinese-Korean) women had much fewer problems than most; that Vietnamese women had problems with using contraceptives and tended to begin having children right away, which led to even more adjustment difficulties; and that Eastern European women could sometimes pass as half-Korean, but were generally more outspoken than Southeast Asian women, which led to domestic trouble. When the difficulties become too great, the pressure put on these women (by the government and even by the public women's shelters) to reconcile is strong, because in the event of a divorce, the citizenship of the wife is revoked. It's quite a sticky situation, isn't it?

North Korean Defectors
Stephanie Choi, who visited North Korea with me last February, gave her presentation about the acculturation of North Korean defectors in South Korea. There are an estimated 300,000 refugees from North Korea in the world: people who have escaped the tightly-controlled borders of the country seeking political freedom or just a better life since 1953. In the early 2000s, the number of refugees entering South Korea specifically grew exponentially as a result of a devastating famine in the North, but it has tapered off in recent years, following the death of Kim Jong-il and a tightening of security by Kim Jong-un's regime.

Today, the 26,000 defectors in South Korea make up just 1% of the country's minority immigrants. The North Koreans in South Korea are much different from the first waves of refugees. Instead of political elite who were lauded as heroes when they defected pre-Soviet collapse, defectors are now mostly women and children just looking to survive. And they are not treated very positively once here. After a long three-month investigation and assimilation period at Hanawon, where they are simultaneously interrogated in-depth about their background as North Koreans and scrubbed clean of that identity in order to fit in in South Korea, they encounter a host of problems. Some try to hide their identity, but their accent and unfamiliarity with basic skills required in a capitalist society, such as managing a bank account, can give them away. Others are fiercely proud of their background and, stating that you can't change where you were born, are involved in activism to try to change South Koreans' stereotypes about North Koreans (e.g. that they're staunch Communists, freeloaders, or a drain on governmental resources). Many are lonely and turn to each other for support (much like the Fulbrighters, scattered all over the country, tend to hang out together) or to religion. 80-90% are Christian, having been converted by missionaries involved in rescues and border crossings in China. These days, reunification is being talked about more and more. At the beginning of 2014, President Park announced that it would be possible by 2050, calling it a "reunification jackpot". I don't know how I feel about this, but I hope that whatever change occurs will come about peacefully. 땅의 통일, 사람의 통일. One land, one people.

Patriarchy and Politics
Chelsea Carlson researched women in politics, asking the question, "Why aren't there any?" Or at least, as many as there should be? Korea is notorious for its gender inequality, but why is this happening in politics? And will Park Geun-hye, the first female president, change things? Ms Carlson outlined the strictly-defined systems of networking in Korean politics: for men, their classmates, fellow alumni, and seniors/juniors (선배/후배) are all that matters, but women depend mostly on their families and husbands to make connections. This, coupled with a secretive nomination process to select candidates for publicly-elected office, makes it hard for women to get a foot in from the get-go. Women just don't have enough social clout to be elected, it seems, and the system, while not explicitly sexist, isn't helping. In my own opinion, Park Geun-hye utilized the networking system to secure her win. Her family is famous, of course, as her father was a former president(/dictator), and regional loyalty to the Parks is indomitable. Unfortunately, I don't think Park is a champion for women's rights at all; she has done nothing to close the gender pay gap or balance the systems of parental leave in order to help mothers return to their careers. So, gender inequality in politics will likely persist. Ms Carlson then offered a few ways this could be remedied, including a "local service requirement" for candidates (which women could easily attain and use to their political advantage), more transparency in the system, and even affirmative action.

(Another researcher, Aileen Kim, did her research project specifically on Park Geun-hye, and focused on the power of "dynasty" that helped secure her presidential win.)

Hip-Hop and Racial Consciousness
Whitney Barr countered the idea that Korea's infamous racial insensitivity could no longer be deemed as a mere product of ignorance, since Korean millennials have grown up with decent exposure to Western media and other cultures -- specifically, black and hip-hop culture. She explored the positive appropriations of hip-hop culture in Seoul, but also contrasted it with general dismissiveness or outright racism against black people, including the double-edged usage of words like 흑형 (black brother; Google that to get the idea) or 깜둥이 ("darky"), and the consideration of multiracial icons as purely Korean or "at least" half-Korean, discarding their other identity.

Performance Art
Adam Glassman described in colorful detail his experiences with shamanism and street dance in a project that aimed to capture Korean performance art in all its vicissitudinous adaptation to the present day. Why are shows like Nanta, in which the performers encourage tons of audience participation and turn it more into an interaction than a "show", so popular? Why has street dance skyrocketed in Korea in recent years? Mr Glassman suggests that it has something to do with the long-standing performers' directive to "create joy together" with their audience. Focusing on the 무당, or shamans, who practice a traditional religion in decline but still deeply-rooted in many people's belief systems, he described how the rituals they perform attempt to establish a tangible, physical connection between the people and the gods. Of the over 40,000 registered shamans in Korea, Mr Glassman was lucky enough to find one who opened up his home to him so that he could observe daily life and learn more about shamanism. From watching and recording the performative aspects of shamanism, he looked for similar patterns in modern iterations of performance art. Mr Glassman's eventual goal is to return to the United States to reinvent American theater, so that the audience is no longer merely a cold, voiceless participant but living and breathing, with just as much a stake in the performance as the performers themselves.

Miscellany
Other Fulbright research projects focused on more scientific matters that might have interested my students, but weren't necessarily compelling to me. One researcher is researching cancer treatment using electric plasma. Cool! But most of his lecture went over my head. Another is looking at the antihistamine effects of the Korean 다래, a fruit that is essentially a small kiwi. Also, two researchers did their projects on art and painting, and one of them is having a solo exhibition in Seoul in a few weeks! That's pretty exciting.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Forever

Me: Well, today is our last day of the English Conversation Club, and--
JY: Oh, nooo!!!
Me: What?
JY: That's not good.
Me: Why? I mean, you can still talk to me whenever you want.
JY: But I want to, uh... exist... with you.
Me: Oh?
JY: Forever.

Every day for the past two semesters, I have spent my lunch break running the English Conversation Club at my school. The brainchild of my co-teacher, the program is simply an opportunity for all the students to chat with a native English speaker (i.e., me) for half an hour once a month. They all attend the club in groups that rotate once a month. For the students, it's sometimes tough to remember when their day is coming up, and when it comes, they have to rush through their meal in the cafeteria, forego the day's soccer or basketball scrimmage, and meet me in the English-Only Zone to talk about the topic of the day.

Some students have dreaded this every month, but they do it partly out of peer pressure and partly because if they stick through with eight sessions (totaling four hours of English conversation!), they'll get a fancy certificate and something to put on their college applications. On the other hand, other students have really loved their monthly club time, and what has really thrilled me are the groups that have great chemistry. Somehow, they just click, and they laugh and joke with each other -- in English -- with almost no help from me. It's a joy to watch. I've gotten to know my students ten times better because of these daily conversations. I'm going to miss them so much.

The very last group will meet with me tomorrow, and then we're all done. Sixty-something hours of prodding questions and casual conversation starters, of laughs and really awkward silences. Done! I don't know what I'm going to do with my lunch breaks for the rest of the year. They'll be so strangely empty.

The most likely scenario is that I'll go back to doing what I did last year, before the program started: wander the halls, the library, and the gym to ninja-attack unsuspecting students with a loud and cheerful, "What's up?!"

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Taekgyeon Black Belt Test

Today, 저는 목표를 달성했습니다. I achieved a goal.
When I came to Korea two years ago, I wanted to learn a martial art. My first semester of teaching was busy, so I couldn't do many extracurricular activities, but by March 2013, I had made up my mind to pursue taekwondo. However, on the day I looked for martial arts gyms in my neighborhood, the only one I could find with adult classes was a taekgyeon gym. That's how I ended up training in taekgyeon every weekday night for over a year.

It's been mostly fun. Sometimes I was really pathetically confused, and at other times I became very frustrated, but I'm glad that I stuck through with it during the rough times. Even after a long day at school, when I arrive home at 8pm, exhausted, and have only an hour before I've got to trudge to the gym, once I arrive I shake off my fatigue and try to give it my all. I've grown to love taekgyeon: the graceful yet powerful movements, the useful techniques for self-defense, the way it has improved my physique. I'm fiercely proud of being a part of a relatively unknown Korean tradition and have eagerly talked about it with anyone. And after fifteen months of training, it all culminated in a short, ten-minute evaluation (심사) this morning for my first-degree black belt (한동).

For the test, I had to demonstrate the 본때뵈기 (bonddaebwegi) routine that we practice literally every single day. It's a choreographed solo routine that incorporates all the kicks, trips, and steps used in taekgyeon sparring, and even though I've done it nearly a thousand times now, I still mess up sometimes. In fact, I kind of messed up this morning because I was demonstrating it at the same time as some very young kids who were also testing for their black belts, and their rhythm was not the same as mine. Also, I was pretty nervous.

After the 본때뵈기, my sparring partner, a guy in his forties, and I demonstrated kicks (마주차기), trips (마주거리), wrestling (대거리), and sparring (맞서기). For each demonstration, I could tell that I wasn't doing as well as I had done during last week's training. Nerves really can get to me, I guess! But it wasn't so terrible that I made a fool of myself. In fact, I actually rather enjoyed it.

And that was that. I finished my test, and then I sat down to watch the kids do their evaluations. These are elementary school-aged children who are already testing for their second-degree black belts! They're years ahead of me in taekgyeon, but still so cute when they do it!

The older kids also did some demonstrations of higher-level routines and also jump rope routines, which my taekgyeon master incorporates into his training. (I suck at jump rope...) Anyway, I took some videos on my phone of the kids' portion of the test, and you can watch it below.
When the evaluation was over (all in all, it took just over one hour), the kids began running around acting like kids, and we snacked on watermelon and rice cakes before having take-out "Chinese" for lunch. I really enjoy spending time with the taekgyeon kids! They're always inexplicably excited to see me, and they're fun to play with. I'm a little concerned at how much they enjoy tackling and tripping each other, but I guess that's the only way a group of kids that trains in martial arts together know how to bond. That, and playing video games on their phones.

I then went home, took a nap, and went to church. The rest of the day felt as normal as any other quiet Sunday. But I feel... I don't know, 마음이 가볍다? A bit lighter? It's not like I've finished taekgyeon. I'm still going to go to training tomorrow (where we'll play soccer... ugh...) and probably continue right up until I leave. From now on, though, since I've reached my goal of obtaining a black belt, I guess my outlook has changed a bit. I've logged a few hundred hours developing a skill that I came to with absolutely zero experience, and now I'm proud to have passed a major milestone.

Another way in which this marks a sort of climactic point in my grant year is that my schedule for the rest of this semester is now free of anything major. I had my research report due last Sunday and just finished a week of endless speech tests for my students; now, my last big hurdle of the semester is out of the way. There's nothing big left between me and August 7th: D-Day. Departure Day. No more big projects. No more deadlines. Just wrapping up and getting ready to go. The emptiness of my calendar is a bit scary.

So I took my black belt test today. Because I want to continue training in martial arts, I hope that this was just the beginning, but when it comes to my time in Korea, I realize that it actually marks the beginning of the end.

tl;dr: I passed!

Saturday, June 21, 2014

North Korean Defector Conference in Daegu

I'm writing this from Daegu, where I attended a conference for English teachers who volunteer with North Korean defectors around the country. The weekend-long camp, the first of its kind, I believe, was an opportunity for the teachers as well as their students to connect and have fun together. Since none of my students attended the camp (we had our own fun activity yesterday at the movies: Edge of Tomorrow in IMAX 3D!), I came just for the workshop programs today.

Besides getting to hang out with some of my Fulbright friends, which I always appreciate, I was able to get a refresher on teaching tips and tricks and learn more about the background and organization of South Korea's Hana Centers. I was surprised to learn that the centers are a relatively recent government initiative (most having been established within the past decade) and that they are all somewhat independently managed. Changwon's Hana Center is hosted in (and maybe by) the city's branch of the Korean Red Cross. Daegu's is in the care of the Empathy for a Better World Foundation, which actually runs tons of other defector- or reunification-related programs, too. The Empathy Foundation does a lot of stellar work with defectors; if you're interested in NK defector issues and in Daegu, go check them out.

Anyway, I had a great day, but unfortunately I can't stay the night or attend Sunday's programming. My black belt test for taekgyeon is tomorrow morning! I have to get a good night's sleep at home.

P.S. Completely unrelated: in downtown Daegu, my friend and I espied an older Korean man wearing a UCLA t-shirt! I pointed at him quite unabashedly, having forgotten for a moment that not being Korean doesnt make you invisible in this country-- in fact, quite the opposite. To hide my embarrassment, I went all in and called out, "UCLA!" The man stared for a moment, then laughed when he realized that I had only been reading his shirt. And he called back, "Ooklah!" My friend, who happened to be a UCLA graduate, turned to me and remarked, "I guess that about sums up how much he knows about his wardrobe choice. Funniest thing I've seen in Daegu today!"

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