Excuse me, Sarang Church?

The above date and time are wrong. It’s actually 9:30 Sunday night. But the general controls on the computers here are in Korean, and it may be a while before I figure out how to change the settings.

This season in my life has been a season of firsts: My first teaching assignment, my first trip long-term trip abroad, my first serious attempt at learning a language with a different alphabet, my first experience eating with chopsticks. Tonight marks another significant first: My first case of indigestion from the spicy Korean food. I did actually enjoy what I ate, but now I’m paying for it and I can only hope that my body will adjust soon. In his fascinating book "The Koreans," journalist Michael Breen, who splits his time between South Korea and the UK, describes the withdrawal he has come to experience when he's not eating kimchi in Seoul. I hope that will be my testimony someday. I have found kimchi to be edible, and I will sometimes eat it over dinner even if I'm not asked to do so by my Korean host, but if it disappeared from existence I wouldn't be very sad about it. Tonight I actually passed up the kimchi, but what I did eat was no less spicy.

I've met a number of English teachers here, both from my school and from other places. Some are as newbie as I am. Some come off as cynical or unprepared, or both. However, I've been humbled by more accomplished teachers whose international and foreign language experiences far exceed my own. One of the teachers at my school previously did two years in the Peace Corps and is fluent in Spanish. Another teacher at a different branch, an African-American from New York like myself, speaks French and Italian, has been teaching successfully in Korea for two years, shoots over to Hong Kong every now and then for hanging out with friends and modeling gigs, and is currently studying Russian for a trip to Kazakhstan with a friend next year. The gentleman with whom I did a training session Saturday morning is a Canadian who has taught here for nine years or so, and speaks about seven or eight languages. I've met people here who are more adventurous than I ever imagined I would be, and these are not even trailblazing Christian missionaries. I'm not envious of anyone (I don't think), but it's really caused me to think outside of the box and to not rule out these types of accomplishments in my own life if that's what the Lord wants to do in me. I have no issues with starting near the bottom of the ladder. Just making it out here has given me momentum.

I attended three church services today, the first two at Sarang Church’s New Harvest Ministry and the third at Youngnak Church’s International Worship Experience with Pastor Bill and the gang. I met some cool people in both churches, including the gentleman at InterVarsity’s local branch who originally put me in touch with Pastor Bill. Once I begin work I expect to be super busy, but if I have any free time left there will be some great opportunities for all kind of activities here and some relationship building.

At Youngnak Chris and his Korean wife Laura ministered a medley of "Give Thanks" and "Lord I Give You my Heart." Although I am generally tired of these two songs, Laura had a gorgeous voice (it was the first time I’d heard her sing) and Chris performed sign language as she sang. It was simple yet beautiful. By the end I was already starting to have ideas of asking him to sign along to me singing one day.

Which brings me to the "ministry" issue. When I came to Korea, I intended not to do a lot of ministry stuff. I felt as if ministry activity consumed my life in New York to the point that it was affecting my devotion toward the Lord. I have been thinking about taking the guitar and hitting some of the local clubs around Shinchon. I also want to learn a few Korean songs to sing here and there. Pastor Bill has not been shy about asking me to do some special music during the services, and Grace is already talking about getting me in the church's choir. However, for the most part I've wanted to kick back and just not to do anything.

However, through every service I sat in today, I had an incredible ache to be singing with my guitar. I was surprised at how strong this desire was. It was actually distracting. I also wanted to sing at the top of my lungs, but I held back because I didn't want to blow away the people standing in front of me. And when I'm not at church, at home I jump around and do air guitar, or at least I get the foot stomp and/or head bob going when the radio is going. More often than I'd like to admit.

After service I joined Grace and a couple of friends for a walk in Hanok Park and dinner. The monsoon (rainy) season is ending, and the constant fog and clouds are slowly giving way to some sunlight. The mountains surrounding the city are coming into view, and they are spectacularly gorgeous. The park and the surrounding area were surprisingly quiet, even though some parts buzzed with visitors, many of them--interestingly--Koreans with large cameras. Grace's English is competent, but I gently corrected many of her expressions, which she appreciated. We traded vocabulary words and grammar rules. We visited Seoul's time capsule commemorating its 600th anniversary in 1994, as well as a beautiful fish pond and some other sights. We passed by two guys practicing martial arts in a semi-isolated spot. I'm looking forward to bringing a couple of books and spending more time here once the rain stops.

Dinner (the one that gave me indigestion) was a humorous experience. The silver chopsticks gave me a tough time for the first five or ten minutes until I finally found my groove. I think it was mildly entertaining for the wait staff as well as Grace and her friends, and one of the servers brought me a fork without my asking for it. However, I'm less embarrassed over this kind of thing and I finished out my meal, even the slippery noodles. I feel like a better man for it.

Almost as soon as I was beginning to be overwhelmed by the Korean language, it has slowly but significantly taken on a new coherence. The conversation around me, although I don't understand any of it, sounds less like gibberish and more like actual words. Also, I'm finding that my limited vocabulary is much more useful than I thought. I have literally become like a child. A child has a limited vocabulary, but he knows what he wants to say and he communicates it as best as he can without worrying about how he sounds. On the way to Sarang this morning I accidentally passed the left turn I was supposed to make after the subway exit, thinking it was further down. After realizing I went too far, I stopped a couple of guys and asked them in Korean: "Excuse me, Sarang Church?" Not eloquent, but I got my point across and they pointed me in the right direction. Many Koreans are very responsive to hearing a foreigner speak in the local language, however fitfully it may be. I’ve noted the same thing in Brazil and Argentina. I am looking forward to communicating effectively in Korean. At Sarang I became friends with a German brother who has lived in Korea for the last nine years for business, and he and his Korean wife are planning to move to Seoul at the end of August. He told me that Korean is a difficult language and that one can't passively "pick it up"-—one must aggressively lay hold of the language. That's what I intend to do, and the realization that I've already been able to communicate effectively (albeit on a limited scale) has greatly encouraged me.

I've been sitting in this Internet cafe for a long time.

I've read that the expatriate "honeymoon" period lasts for about two months. I'm certain that some difficult and maybe even negative experiences lie ahead. But my initial impressions of life in Korea, at least in the city of Seoul, have been largely favorable.

Finding my groove

Tonight I taught my first class, actually a practice class. I was allowed to pick the lesson from the school’s curriculum. The class was a random sampling of students of different levels, which means that one of the administrators grabbed them at the last minute. There are students milling about everywhere in this building. One of the teachers and a staff member sat in with the other four students in my class. I was surprised at how nervous I was in the beginning but, mindful of a training session I attended this morning in Kangnam, I attempted to do it by the book. No one seemed to notice my nervousness, and I got a good evaluation from the students at the end. Don gave me some practical advice on teaching technique. The key thing is making sure that the students are talking most of the time. I did most of the talking. I’m not normally a talkative person, but under the right circumstances I let myself go. Afterward Don and I went outside for a quick bite of chicken on a stick from one of the many street vendors here. I almost remember the Korean name for chicken on a stick, but I won’t butcher it here.

I’ve met probably 10 to 12 other teachers here, and I’ve been surprised at how much people seem to be established in their jobs and routines. Everyone has been here for varying amounts of time, but each teacher seems to have found his or her groove. Tonight I feel a little bit like I’m finding mine as well.

I had a couple of awkward moments yesterday. I spent a couple of days starving because my current level of Korean is so limited that trying to order food in one of the numerous restaurants here was very intimidating. Yesterday afternoon I was so hungry I went out and walked around, passing by different restaurants and trying to decide if and where to eat. I passed up the Western-looking franchises because I didn’t travel here to eat American food. I finally entered one seafood place where a very unhappy looking waitress informed me that the restaurant was not yet open. At least that’s what I think she said. Because I couldn’t understand a word she was trying. I determined it wasn’t open because there was no one else in the restaurant and the fish tanks were empty. The only phrase I could utter in Korean was “Do you have octopus?” And she didn’t seem to understand me. She obviously didn’t want me to be there, and the feeling was mutual. I almost left the place unhappy like her.

I’ve noticed that people here tend to eat lunch later in the day. At 11:30, none of the food vendors on this street were open. I thought it was because of the rain.

After leaving the seafood restaurant, I began to experience a type of withdrawal and I started wondering why I came here. I decided to go upstairs to hide out in my room for the rest of the day and read. However, after 10 or 15 minutes upstairs and a quick prayer for focus and strength, I came to my senses and went back downstairs with a new determination to engage this culture a little more. I ended up having a profitable time of reading and Korean study in the teacher’s lounge. I also asked the administrators to let me observe a couple of more classes even though I wasn’t on the schedule to do so.

Last night I finally met Chris, with whom I’ve corresponded the last couple of months, in person for the first time. Chris was another influential person in heloing me to decide to apply directly to a school instead of going through an agency. We ate dinner at a Japanese place right next to my school. My use of chopsticks is improving, and somehow I managed to eat a bowlful of extremely slippery noodles. Also ordering turned out not to be so bad. The key is finding a restaurant with lots of pictures in the menus. I felt proud of myself.

After the training session in Kangnam this morning, I took the subway north to meet Pastor Bill and Leon for lunch. I was able to hear a little bit more about his experience in Korea over the last 20 years. We had a nice meeting.

After four days, this city is a little less intimidating. And the subways are just a lot of fun to ride. I have to force myself not to grin from ear to ear so people don’t look at me. Of course, a few people do look at me--like I’m a giant space alien. Well, maybe “giant space alien” is a little dramatic, because no one has run off screaming at the sight of me. But there’s nothing Asian-looking about this dude. I’ve found most people to be courteous and laid back. Older people have even invited me to sit down on the train, if there’s an empty space seat next to them. People are also very helpful when you ask them for directions, however broken your Korean may be. That’s pretty cool.

I'm here.

I am sitting in the teachers lounge at Pagoda Academy in the Shinchon section of Seoul. I’m in front of a window and it is raining furiously outside. It almost feels as if the rain followed me here from New York. Everyone says that it’s monsoon season and it will end next week. My temporary housing is on the 11th floor of this building, and much of the view is obstructed by the fog. Hopefully it will clear up before I move out so I can get a better view.

It should be noted that it is about 9:30 a.m. Thursday in Korea. Hopefully Blogger will reflect this and not say 8:30 p.m. Wednesday. All of the computers’ general controls here are in Korean, so I may not have control over some formatting aspects of my blog entries for a while.

Last Sunday was an incredible sendoff for me. Pastor Carter had the church formally pray for me and commission me. I was very humbled by the congregation’s response. The choir and others actually gave me a standing ovation. I had a chance to thank the pastors and everyone else, as well to say that I felt this would be a time of my life in which I would go deeper with the Lord. It was overwhelming. I get nervous speaking in front of crowds and this day was no exception, but somehow I was able to hold the mic and speak without falling apart. It was also very humbling to be introduced as a “missionary.” That’s not really how I’ve thought of myself, but I can’t go off to another country and pretend not to be an ambassador for Jesus Christ. Shortly after that, I sang my last solo with the choir. After service I ate lunch with the tenor section. Throughout the day I had some emotional goodbyes with a number of people. I also continued running errands and shopping, as I am so gifted at waiting until the last minute. Sunday night Ji and his wife Myung-Soo took me out to dinner at a Korean restaurant on 32nd Street. Late Sunday night while I was packing and exercising my gift of procrastination, my high school buddy Eric stopped by for another emotional goodbye. When it was all said and done, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. Sunday was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. It is very vivid in my mind and probably will be for a long time.

The most difficult goodbye was with Mom at the airport Monday afternoon . I didn’t think I was going to cry, but I did. Our comfort lies in knowing that the Lord has opened this door for me and so He’s leading me. She has totally supported me in this endeavor, which has really been cool. It minimizes the drama.

I had a surprisingly pleasant flight on Korean Air. It was 14 hours, but it only felt like half of that time. I was able to get an exit-row seat. It was kind of narrow, but I had lots of room to stretch out. I don’t get that often, so when I do get it I enjoy it for what it’s worth. I sat next to a newlywed couple on their way to a honeymoon in Cambodia and Vietnam. They were kind of lovey-dovey with each other, which normally annoys me, but I was very happy for them. The wife offered me Starburst candy. It’s hard to dislike people that offer you food. I watched a couple of interesting documentaries and the first half of the film “Hoodwinked.” I gave up after that because my unit began having technical problems and the movie would freeze up every five seconds. It was also kind of a stupid movie, although I’m a big animation fan. I also spent a lot of time practicing Korean script in my notebbok, and a few surprised Koreans complimented my writing as they passed by. That was pretty cool. I don’t think my script is that good, but at least it’s legible to a Korean.

So why am I here? This is a question many have asked me in New York and Seoul. I have numerous reasons for being here and I won’t list all of them, but I will say that for years I have longed to be able to spend some time in a country on a long-term basis. For the last 10 years, I have attended an evangelical church that puts a strong emphasis on going abroad for missions. I’ve had the privilege of being able to travel to about seven different foreign countries on missions and outreach trips. I like to tell people that during that time I caught “the international bug.” I also enjoy studying foreign languages, although I am familiar with some and fluent in none. Which brings me to another one of my goals, learning Korean. Prior to deciding to travel to Korea as an English teacher, I was focusing on my Spanish. A few months ago I had an opportunity to travel to Rosario, Argentina, where I had many opportunities to practice since very few people there spoke English. I felt I was making some good progress, but I’ve now decided to put it on the back burner for the sake of Korean, little of which I speak or understand. Although I find that learning the written script has not been very difficult, and I can generally look at Korean and pronounce it out. Just don’t ask me what it means.

I am also hoping to gain some good ESL teaching experience here. For a long time, a handful of family members and good friends have told me that I should be a teacher. I’ve tried to avoid this for a long time, but I became unhappy enough as an underemployed freelance copy editor and proofreader to begin seriously considering other work options. With my current assignment, so many things have fallen into place that I know that God has led me here. I’ve always been full of ideas and even teaching English abroad was something I decided to do on a whim, but now it feels like much more than that.

People have asked me how long I plan to stay in Korea. That’s a little bit like asking me if it will rain in September. I’ve signed a yearlong contract with the school. I intend to fulfill that contract even if I end up hating this place. At the end of my time, I’ll have a better idea of whether I want to stay or move on to another school or another country. What is certain is that I want to teach for a while. I’m beginning to feel a passion for this, and I haven’t even gotten in front of a classroom yet.

So I know some of you are itching to know what I’ve actually been doing since touching down Tuesday night. To my surprise, my jet lag hasn’t been that bad. I’ve observed a few classes at the school. After months of wondering how and ESL class is actually run, it’s fun to observe it in person. I felt like this when I observed ESL Jennifer’s class at LaGuardia Community College last week. It’s also fascinating to watch the students (in this case, college age) grasp vocabulary words and grammatical concepts we take for granted. It gets humorous sometimes.

Yesterday Rockie (Pagoda’s housing manager) showed me four studio apartments. Korean apartments are not very big, and I was hoping to at least a place with a high ceiling, which is a personal preference of mine. Eventually I settled on a place that was a little more spacious than the others I had looked at and located in a very nice building in a cool backstreet neighborhood. It’s a 10-minute walk from the school. The bathroom was kind of gross and I’m going to have to do some major spring cleaning when I move in next week. The ceiling is not as high as I’d like, but I’m happy with the arrangement for the most part.

Last night I went to Pastor Bill’s weekly English Bible study at Youngnak Church. I took the subway for the first time, and all I can say about this experience is that I was very grateful that the signs are in English as well as Korean. If not for a landmark and help from a couple of kind Korean gentleman, I could have easily gotten lost wandering the streets of Seoul. Although I’m a city boy, Seoul’s streets do not follow a uniform grid pattern like Manhattan. Also, I generally don’t understand Korean, so it puts me in a very vulnerable position. Pastor Bill was very glad to see me walk in the door, as I was very glad to see him. During the fellowship and food time afterward, I found out that most of the people had already heard the story of how we met. I also met another ESL teacher from Harlem who arrived three weeks ago. My use of chopsticks is improving, and the Koreans in the group complimented me. This made last night all the more enjoyable.

Seoul is a visual spectacle, and a walk around this area is stimulating and overwhelming at the same time. Of all the countries I’ve visited, I have never seen anyplace like this, and I have become a wide-eyed tourist. There are three universities in Shinchon, and so most of the people here look twentysomething. Although I have gotten some staring, it hasn’t been as much as I thought it would be. In the classes I’ve observed so far, I’ve found the students to be very courteous. When I bow and say “Annyonghaseyo,” the standard Korean greeting, many people cover their mouths and giggle.

One of my less academic goals in Korea was to lose weight. This already seems to be working, as I’ve been eating significantly less food here and my brand-new slacks are now sagging considerably around my waist. All I need to do now is ditch this dress shirt and tie for an oversized white T-shirt and do-rag.

I promised many of you that I would update this blog regularly, and I will do my best to keep that promise. Your prayers and support are felt and appreciated.

Good afternoon all,

Just a quick administrative note. I'm very glad to know that people are reading this blog and I enjoy your comments. However, some of you write me anonymously. I am not a fan of anonymous comments, sometimes they are wonderful but they're difficult for me to take seriously. (It's kind of like anonymous testimonials for a book or an event. I generally don't like those either.) I understand everyone's desire for privacy, I have it too and on some discussion boards I may only leave my first name or a nickname. But if you indentify yourself somehow, I would appreciate it. Sometimes I'd like to respond to a person and I can't because I have no idea who it is.

I recently received an e-mail through Blogger asking my advice on a particular issue. Thanks for identifying yourself, and I'll be glad to give you my thoughts, but please send me an e-mail address where I can actually respond to you.

This is not a major problem and I'm not mad at anyone. I just want to advise those of you who drop by this blog from time to time. Come out, come out, wherever you are...

Komapsumnida. ("Thank you" in Korean)