해피 할로윈! Happy Halloween!

I broke one of my teaching rules today and gave my students candy. In fact, I've been giving them candy all week, as this week was the week of Halloween-themed English lessons! Yup, I'm doing my part as an American cultural ambassador by teaching them how much we love junk food.

In class, today: "So children dress up in costumes and knock on your door. Then, they say, 'Trick or treat!' and you have to give them candy, because... um... well, just because. So anyway, what kinds of costumes do you see in this picture?"

"My costum is homo-simpson"

Still, the Halloween lessons have been fun. I'm scaring my second-years with horrifying animated gifs from various movies (courtesy Buzzfeed) and having them draw silly or scary Halloween costumes. They also get to watch "Thriller"! My first-years are identifying all the monsters they see in the hilarious video of two women freaking out in a haunted house on the Ellen DeGeneres Show.

And everyone gets candy! And prizes! I went to City 7, a small but pretty shopping mall located in a neighborhood closer to my house than the actual downtown, to find cheap Halloween-themed stuff to give to my students. The E-Mart at the mall had about half an aisle dedicated to kids' costumes and props, all made in China. The tchotchke was definitely cheap in quality, but the prices were almost offensively high. For a few pounds of candy and some plastic jack-o'-lanterns, masks, and the like, I spent 24,000₩. Come on!

Nevertheless, I actually found myself enjoying the light festivities. It just tickled me that I was in a department store in Korea buying fake vampire teeth and Tootsie Roll Pops. This is especially weird because I don't celebrate Halloween, not having dressed up or gone trick-or-treating since I wore a mouse onesie (complete with a hood and tail) in kindergarten. I guess I felt carried along by the wave of every other ESL teacher I know doing something related to the holiday. I also wanted to give my students something fun to do in class -- especially something creative -- because I can see how stressed they are at this time of the year. That's why I've lowered the bar for receiving candy from "Show me your filled-out lyrics worksheet!" to "Just say, 'Happy Halloween!' or 'Trick or treat!'"

So, it's nice to get into the spirit of things. All my students knew that today was Halloween, but they didn't have any plans to celebrate it. I told them that they should play pranks on their friends to scare them.

Anyway, tomorrow is All Saints' Day (which I also, strangely, do not celebrate), but I'll continue with the haunted houses and the costumes. I love what my students have done so far this week -- I'm putting up their artwork on the wall -- and I also have tons of candy and prizes left to give away. It's got to go somehow, and I'm definitely not going to eat it all. Happy Halloween, kids!

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.

감 - Persimmons

Persimmons are in season in Korea! There are two kinds here, both of which I love.

단감 (dangam) are sweet persimmons. They are small and flat, and look like orange tomatoes. These can be eaten before they are fully ripe, when they have a crisp texture and a mild sweetness.

홍시 (hongsi) are astringent persimmons. They are larger, shaped like acorns, and usually have a deeper hue than sweet persimmons. They must be left to ripen completely, attaining a pudgy, bulbous peel surrounding the pulpy, syrupy and delicious meat inside. (These are the kind that I grew up on.) Unfortunately, if you eat a hongsi before it is fully ripe, it tastes bitter and leaves your mouth feeling fuzzy and dry. This is the tannin at work, shrinking the salivary glands in your mouth and leaving a rather unpleasant feeling. Tannins -- a natural astringent -- are also found in banana peels and in some wines and teas.

홍시! Koreans also eat them dried, like Taiwanese and Japanese. They also ice them to make a kind of persimmon water ice, which is new for me. (LOL: as soon as I wrote the above sentence, my host mother popped into my room to hand me some iced persimmon on a plate. 무슨 우연이람!)

Another name I've heard to refer to hongsi is 떫은감 (ddeolbeungam), or simply 떨감 (ddeolgam). This literally translates to "astringent (bitter) persimmon". I like knowing this obscure vocabulary word, but I think I prefer 홍시, since it is related to the Taiwanese word I use for this fruit:

홍시 (hongsi) --> 紅柿 (hóngshì) --> angkhi
(Note: the common Mandarin word for persimmon is 柿子 (shìzi), not 紅柿.)

Some random facts: the English word persimmon comes from the name of the fruit in an Algonquian (Native American) language which means "dry fruit". They probably didn't wait for them to ripen enough before naming eating them! Also, persimmons are, botanically speaking, berries. So are tomatoes. I've been thinking about how long it's been since I've even seen (much less eaten) a strawberry, blueberry, or raspberry since coming to Korea... I guess persimmons will have to suffice.

감이 아주 맛있어요!

Legacy

I've just watched this YouTube video and it's given me quite a bit to think about. The video is part one of an interview with Kim Han-sol, the eldest son of Kim Jong-nam, who is the eldest son of Kim Jong-il. So, this kid is the grandson of North Korea's recently-deceased dictator.

He's currently studying at United World College in Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and sat down with the president of his school to talk about his childhood and his dreams for the future. You can watch the first part of the interview (starts at 1:35, and is interspersed with footage of North Korea and some captions in Swedish at random intervals) below.
Some of my stray thoughts:

1. Han-sol is studying at a school that was founded with the explicit intent to educate the next generation about peace and conflict resolution. I think that's a promising start. All of his friends are multicultural and come from all over the world. His roommate was from Libya and told him stories of the Libyan Revolution. He has a few South Korean friends with whom he's traveled. For someone of his family background to have had these kinds of experiences by the time he enters college is a great privilege. It sounds like he acknowledges this, too, and hopes one day to work for peace and -- get this -- unification of the Korean peninsula.

2. He has never met his grandfather or his uncle (Kim Jong-eun, the current leader of North Korea). His immediate family has actually fallen out of favor with the current dynasty in power, and they live in Macau. Han-sol received his high school education at an international school in Macau. He says that he always wanted to meet his grandfather, though, and isn't sure if Kim Jong-il even knew that he exists before he passed.

3. His parents taught him to keep an open mind and always look at both sides of an issue. Political neutrality, in other words. They told him to forget about his background and try to live the life of an ordinary citizen in order to better understand his people. He also remembers to be thankful before he eats a meal, thinking about those starving back in his home country. From this and the previous stray thought one can conclude that this young man is very far removed from the current regime in North Korea not just geographically, but also politically and even ideologically.

"I've had some friends from South Korea in Macau, and it's quite interesting because the two countries, they are trying to work to build peace together for unification, but at the same time there are laws that say North and South Koreans shouldn't interact with each other even outside of Korea. 

And me and my South Korean friends, at first it was kind of awkward when I first met them. But then, little by little, we started understanding each other, again, through the same classroom experience. And also sometimes we share our stories from back home and realize how similar we are. Same language, same culture, and it's just political issues that divide the nation in half. And now, today, we are really close friends and we travel together and it's such a wonderful feeling."

4. I'm not sure what he means when he says that the two countries are trying to work to build peace together for unification. That's not happening, as far as I can tell. Furthermore, it is not only political issues that separate the Koreas now, but also the fact that there is an economic and humanitarian crisis in one country while the other is still riding the crest of a huge economic boom. It makes me wonder how much he really knows about what is happening in the rural areas and the prison camps, places outside of Pyongyang or his mother's hometown. Or maybe he's just being very careful with what he says (but not so much that he avoids mentioning "unification" altogether).

5. Otherwise, he appears to be unhesitatingly idealistic, as well as proud of his school. He loves its diversity. He likes chatting with his friends for hours about politics and cultural differences and similarities. Best of all, he has big dreams about world peace. I think he'd have fit in very well at Swarthmore...

"I've always dreamed that one day I will go back and make things better and make it easier for the people there. I also dream of unification, because it's really sad that I can't go to the other side and see my friends over there."

6. He speaks English quite well, with a slight Korean accent and just a hint of a Slavic accent... am I just imagining that? Especially when he says "topics". Otherwise, his diction is otherwise very similar to a typical college freshman. He's careful with his words, but he rambles. He says "like" a lot.

7. The interviewer is definitely pushing an agenda. She's kind of annoying in that way. Shh, just let him speak. Crack more jokes so he smiles more, okay? Oh -- but before I forget, something hilarious happens in the last ten seconds of the interview (in part 2): Elisabeth Rehn tells Han-sol that he's a sweet kid and that she'd have liked to have him as a grandson. "But you have already... your own parents," she continues. She was totally going to say "grandparents". Oh, except... Yeah.

8. Lastly, I wonder if Kim Han-sol has a future in politics? It's very unlikely under the current regime, of course, what with his family being in quasi-exile, and well, to be frank, after giving this interview he'll probably never be able to visit North Korea again. Nevertheless, he looks and sounds promising. He probably has a bright future ahead of him regardless of what he chooses to do. I wish him all the best!

Land's End

Today was the first rainy day of fall*. I expect more to come, so I'm going to have to buy some new shoes. The pair I've had since I began college has gaping holes in both heels and bleeds blue onto my socks when wet. Today was the first rainy day of fall, and I walked around in wet shoes and socks for hours in Jeollanam-do with a large group of tourists from a Korean Teachers' Union.

*Actually, it wasn't. I just thought that that would be a nice way to begin the entry.

Host mother and me

My host mother is a biology teacher and belongs to a union. She and half a dozen other teachers from her school joined a tour of Haenam County in South Jeolla Province. We went to Haenam (해남/海南), Daeheungsa (대흥사/大興寺), and Ttangkkeut (땅끝), which is the "Land's End" of Korea -- the southernmost point of the peninsula (this does not include the many islands just off the coast). Due to the language barrier, I did not understand the majority of anything that happened today from 7am until 10pm, neither what our schedule was or what our tour guide was ever talking about. However, I did get some opportunities to practice Korean, I made a new friend, and I took some photos of pretty things at a Buddhist temple. An opportunity to take photos of pretty things is always nice. (Can you tell that I'm really tired right now?)

A statue at Daeheungsa (대흥사), the main temple of the Jogye Order of Buddhism. The temple was large, spacious, and peaceful, I think in part because it was raining and there were no busy crowds.

단풍 (danpung) is the Korean maple tree, as well as the word for the changing of leaves' colors in autumn.

The main attraction at Ttangkkeut is a monorail that goes straight up a steep mountain to the Ttangkkeut observatory. We waited in line for nearly forty-five minutes for a chance to ride the monorail. It was fairly unexciting, save for a moment near the top when the car suddenly stopped and the lights when out, as if the power had been cut. And it was still raining. I suddenly wondered if we'd survive if the car were to freefall down the side of the mountain... But the power outage didn't last long, and soon we were at the top. We stayed up at the top for about five minutes, as the wind and the rain made it uncomfortable to stay up there, and the view was miserable, anyway. So... so much for that! At least I can now say that I've been to the southernmost point of the Korean peninsula. The next time I go farther south, I want to be on Jeju Island -- when it's not raining. The weather put a "damper" on things, if you will. (Damp: 축축하다/chukchukhada)

Ttangkkeut Monorail.

Following Ttangkkeut, we visited a small cabin complex in the woods in Gangjin where the great Joseon period thinker Dasan lived in exile and wrote five hundred books. He must have had a lot of time on his hands. I don't know much about Dasan (다산/茶山/Yes, that means "Tea Mountain"), but I will read his biography when I get the chance to, because his life seems to have been very interesting. (Unlike the photos I took at this tourist spot, since it was getting dark by then...)

After a Korean beef (한우) barbecue dinner, it was time to go home. A few scattered notes: I spent a lot of time today adding vocabulary words to my flashcard deck on Anki, and it's great to see how I'm actually progressing. I'm happy that I got to spend a lot of time with my host mother today. Usually all the members of my host family are so busy, especially in recent weeks, so this was nice. Teachers' unions (교원 노동 조합(노조)/kyowon nodong johap) are an interesting thing in Korea -- as I'm sure they are in the US, too. They haven't been legal for more than a few decades, though. I'll have more thoughts on them according to what I know, later. But it's time to sleep, now. Good night!

I voted!

I received my absentee ballot today, filled it out, and sent it home. I didn't expedite it, though, so here's to hoping it reaches Delaware County before November 6th!

Now it's your turn!

Some election vocabulary (Korean speakers, feel free to correct my mistakes!):

election - 선거 (seongeo)

to vote - 투표하다 (tupyohada)

absentee - 부재자 (bujaeja)

to win an election - 당선되다

Democratic Party - 민주당 (minjudang)

Republican Party - 공화당 (gonghwadang)

오늘 저는 부재두표 했어요.

Today, I voted absentee.

버락 오바마는 다시 당선되면 좋아요.

It'll be great if Barack Obama wins again.

적어도, 미트 롬니 당선보다 좋겠다.

At least it should be better than a (Mitt) Romney win.

Exercising my rights and my Korean skills

Absentee voting from abroad is not easy.

The general election is on November 6th, and as I am abroad and unable to vote in person, I needed to send an FPCA (Federal Post Card Application) to receive my ballot. I filled out the FPCA two weeks ago and faxed it, but I was never sure if it was received on the other hand. I waited for my absentee ballot to arrive in my inbox, but it never did. So, I called yesterday (hoping that the international call would be short and not keep me counting the seconds on hold for fear of my phone bill) and was notified that my FPCA never even made it to Delaware County.

So, I did it all again today: printed out a new form, scanned it, and sent it by email this time, and then went to the post office to mail the original as well. I should have done this the first time around. But the prospect of having to mail anything from Korea by myself was... not inviting, to be honest.

It's quite frightening for to have to use my limited Korean in "real life" -- which means in public, with Koreans who do not speak English and are not my friends or teachers who understand that I don't really speak Korean very well at all.

As I was walking toward the post office (우체국) this afternoon, a thought suddenly struck me: Andrew, you're about to have to use Korean only to communicate for the next thirty minutes at least. It may be a disaster. Brace yourself, be confident, and keep a smile on.

I entered the post office, took my number after looking confused for a few brief seconds, and sat down to wait. While I waited, I looked up the words for "special", "envelope", and "send" on my phone's dictionary app. I needed a special envelope -- actually, I needed a normal envelope, but on this blank envelope I needed to print the FPCA template for the address that would allow me to send it postage paid.

My original intent was to buy an envelope and then take it back to school to print out the template, only then to return to the post office to actually send it. But I noticed that the post office had printers of its own, so I decided to try to ask if they could print it here for me. I somehow made myself understood and the post office worker took my flash drive to check what was on it. Unfortunately, her supervisor saw what she was doing and was all like, "Nope! Can't do that here. Go to a PC방." Tail between my legs, I scurried away (taking the envelope with me without paying for it).

At the PC방 (a public computer gaming room), I asked the two guys working there if I could print stuff off. I already knew the answer before I asked, though; the PC방 was smoky, noisy, and full of computers for League of Legends and whatnot, without a printer in sight. I was then told that PC방 rarely had printers; they had no other suggestions for me.

Getting a bit desperate, I Kakao-ed a Korean friend and asked for her advice. She told me that unfortunately she wasn't sure where I should go, but perhaps look for a 인쇄소 (print shop). So, I went into the nearest convenience store to ask if there were any in this area. Nope. At this point I had spent close to half an hour trying to communicate with six different Koreans, all without success, just to find a public printer.

Exasperated, I decided to forfeit the postage paid envelope and just write the freaking address on the envelope on my own, and pay for it myself. So back to the post office. And here's the rest of my conversation with the post office worker (PO), translated from Korean.

Me: The PC room couldn't print it, so...
PO: When do you want this to arrive?
Me: Uh...
PO: Normal postage will take 10 days.
Me: Oh, 10 days?
PO: Do you want to expedite it? It'll be expensive.
Me: Oh, how expensive?
PO: [checks figures] ... 17,600 won ($16). Very expensive!
Me: [thinking: holy @*#$!] Oh, yes, that's expensive! Um...
PO: It will arrive next Tuesday if you expedite. But it's very expensive.
Me: Um... normal is okay, then.
PO: Normal?
Me: Yes.
PO: Okay... 610 won ($0.50).
Me: [thinking: and I went to all that trouble to try to print on the envelope...] Okay. Thank you.
PO: Did you just come back from living in America?
Me: What?
PO: Did you just come back from living in America?
Me: [not understanding the question] Uh, yes, I came back from living in America?
By now, everyone in the office is listening, and they laugh when I say this.
Me: What?
PO: Were you born in America?
Me: Oh, yes. In California.
PO: Ah. Are you Korean?
Me: Huh? No.
PO: American?
Me: Yes.
PO: Your face looks Korean!
Me: Oh, no, I'm not. I'm Taiwanese-American.
PO: AH! Taiwanese-American! [to others] He's Taiwanese-American. You look very Korean! We thought you were Korean!
Me: Really? Thanks.
PO: You speak Korean well.
Me: No, not really. Thank you.
PO: Okay, have a nice day!
Me: Goodbye!

Anyway, I'd better get my absentee ballot asap. I'm also going to use the Federal Write-in Absentee Ballot just in case. This probably means another trip to the post office soon. What fun!

Everybody's Gonna Love Today

After lunch, I'm walking back to my office. Down the hall, I notice one male student running past the lockers. He's being chased by his friend, who quickly corners him and puts him into some sort of headlock.

"What are you two doing?" I ask.

A pause, then a grin.

"Loving."

This makes me laugh out loud.

They run away and continue their chase.

- - -

I've introduced a new label to my posts: Student Said What? It's for each instance I talk to my students and they reply with something offbeat, unexpectedly hilarious, or surprisingly sobering. (Also included: the best (or worst) of English grammar and spelling in their homework.) More to come!

Mathledge

When did I agree to correct ninety students' essays -- twice -- over the course of two weeks? I've successfully avoided taking any work home for the first two months, but yesterday and tonight smashed that streak to smithereens. It's past 1am, and I've only just finished class 1-2, which marks the halfway point. The last two classes will have to wait until tomorrow. And next Monday they'll be turning in their second draft, which means I get to do this all over again.

At least some of these essays are amusing. Here's one gem:

"just I don't have deep mathledge. so it was hard to me."

Mathledge, folks. And with that, a good night to you all! (Good morning in California!)

Hard Work Pays Off

The CSHS-Yamaguchi Prefecture high schools mini-conference, held this afternoon, with my student SH speaking at the podium.

My two students, SH and SJ -- the ones with whom I worked for an unexpectedly long time last Friday -- presented their research in front of their peers, teachers, and a cohort of visiting Japanese high school students and faculty today! All in English, for which I am very, very proud of them.

Two other presentations were given by the Japanese students, whose English sounds strangely robotic. It was like a recording, really. I know that this is mostly due to my unfamiliarity with Japanese-accented English, but I'll be honest: one girl in particular sounded so much like an android that I had to stifle a laugh from way in the back. Their brief words of introduction in Korean were better than anything I could manage, though.

In any case, I think that the only people who really understood everything that was said for the duration of the hour-long mini-conference were myself and the two other English teachers at my school, unfortunately. Many students were nodding off, and our science teachers would prod and slap them to keep them awake. Hopefully they still learned a thing or two. Hooray for cultural and educational exchange!

In other news, I stayed at school until 8pm again today. I hope this isn't the start of a trend... but I know that for at least this week and next, I'll be grading hundreds of essays written by my first-years, which range from terrible to woah-did-he-really-write-this good. Wish me luck!