Monday, August 28, 2006

Beautiful

After a hectic week, things are slowing down and the semester will be over by the end of this week. Friday afternoon I was chatting with some students and explaining American perceptions of Koreans and Asians in general.

For example, I explained how the 1988 Olympic Games in Seoul put South Korea on the map for many people. I was a teenager at the time and, probably like many Americans, I had never heard of South Korea. I also explained how many Americans knew nothing of North Korea until President Bush referred to it directly in his infamous "axis of evil" remark in a 2002 speech.

Although these were fighting words and, in my opinion, not well thought out, it's probably a good thing that a few more people throughout America and the world are a little more aware of North Korea's existence and, hopefully, its humanitarian abuses. Personally, this concerns me more than the nuclear threat (which I don't deny, but which I think is wildly overplayed). The thought that I am living and working less than an hour's drive from the world's worst authoritarian regime is very unsettling. I sometimes look at the gorgeous mountains that surround Seoul and I think of North Korean refugees braving the elements to make it to the South Korean or Chinese borders.

I've read that it's not wise for expatriates to discuss political issues with the locals, and I try to follow that rule. I didn't share with the students what I just wrote in the previous paragraph. But it does amaze me how many South Koreans seem indifferent to what is happening in the north, while giving credence to the concept of all Koreans on the peninsula as one race. Some of my students have confirmed this.

I also discussed foreign languages with the students and explained how foreign languages are slowly gaining in popularity in America due to globalization, immigration and travel. However, languages with different character systems (like Korean, Arabic or Chinese) are often imposing. These languages look more art to a native English speaker than actual text. This was a totally new concept for my Korean students. One of them said to me, in so many words: "So to an American, reading Korean is like reading code." That's a great description.

I also discussed how Americans tend to lump most Asians in the same category. This is less common in coastal cities with larger Asian populations, like New York and San Francisco, where people have more contact with Asians. However.
One of my students traveled once to New York and met a gentleman who asked her if she was Japanese or Chinese. She was hurt that not only did he not recognize that she was Korean, but the possibility of Korea hadn't entered his mind. (Although, to be fair, this particular student actually could pass for Japanese.) When many Americans (myself included) think Asian, the first country that comes to mind is China, with Japan a close second.

Yesterday I sang for four separate services in different part of Youngnak Church. Youngnak Church almost functions as a compact office complex, with numerous services taking place simultaneously in different rooms and buildings, so I sang in three different locations. Two of those services were with Korean youth congregations. The Korean song I sang came out better than I thought it would. Afterward, giggly Korean teenagers were approaching me to shake my hand and try to chat in broken English.

The English service, in the last location, was a humbling experience. My guitar is somewhat and the built-in amp is broken. Because of this, I usually put a pickup in the sound hole when I'm singing in a church or building where sound amplification is needed. However, because of a lack of equipment this particular Sunday, there was no place to plug in my pickup--which meant I had to play someone else's guitar.

I've read that an unfortunate side effect of culture shock is the occasional outburst of anger over trivial matters. I generally do not like playing a guitar other than my own. J's guitar, which I ended up having to use, was a round back model. Round backs have their loyalists, but I am not one of them. For me, playing a round back is like being punished for my sins. Additionally, J's English is not that great, so we had some mixed signals as far as how to plug in my guitar and, eventually, using his. The short story of all of this is that by the start of service time, I was very angry. I was smiling and laughing, but I was not happy. I struggled throughout the service to get myself in the right frame of mind. When it came time for me to sing following Pastor Bill's sermon, the microphone stand I was supposed to use decided it didn't want to stay straight anymore. So for 60 eternal seconds Pastor Bill and I fumbled with it and eventually ditched it for another one. When I sang the song, Sam Lane's "Beautiful," I sang it with as much heart as I could, but I did not like the sound of the guitar at all. The strings didn't ring the way I expect strings to. They sounded muted and I thought I was going to pop one any moment. I didn't like the way the guitar felt. I don't like round backs. I will never like round backs. The day I begin to like round backs is the day that the world is coming to an end, because it will truly be a sign and wonder. It was a moderately uncomfortable experience, and the song came out differently than I had intended it to.

The humbling experience came after the service when people, most of whom had never before heard me sing, approached me to tell me how much they loved the song. Pastor Bill told me he was in tears. Apparently the only one who noticed the wrong guitar tone was me. I thanked J. for letting me use his guitar and asked him how it sounded from the congregation. His response: "It sounded beautiful, and I thank God because of the beautiful Jesus in you."

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Administrative work

I don't have much time to write, but I just wanted to say hello to all of you who pop by this blog. This is the third week of my school's monthly semester. The third week is typically the busiest, as exams and grades are administered. I will be up very late tonight grading papers and taking care of some other administrative stuff so I'll actually be able to enjoy my weekend. This week has shown itself to be an emotionally difficult time, as I (and all of the other teachers) have had to fail the random student that has performed poorly or skipped too many classes. A couple of teachers have reminded me not to get too attached to the students.

Being 34 years old, and most of my students being college age, I tend to view them as children. I treat everyone like adults, but I often observe the younger ones and I am reminded of my teenage and college-age years. I then realize what an indifferent, wasteful, self-important moron I was during most of that time. I sometimes find a strange sort of paternal instinct and concern for these students rising up within me. Which is no doubt a sign that I need to get married and have some kids.

I'm learning very quickly that administrative work is less a matter of difficulty and more a matter of time management. A Korean friend today asked me if my job was difficult. My job takes up many hours a day and sometimes the workload is insane, but in a practical sense it's really not a difficult job. I'm not always a big multitasker, but I am learning a lot about time management. This is part of the "learning curve" I described previously. My mother has gotten on me recently about time management, or my lack thereof. I am going to have a long list of things to do differently when the next semester rolls around in September. I am actually very anxious for this time. It will make the difference between me working endlessly and having some free time to study Korean, build friendships and enjoy my life here. This semester is going to drive out many of procrastinator tendencies. I'll spare the details as my director may stumble upon this blog. Ha ha.

I've been surprised by how much I've missed New York the last couple of weeks. When I go to sleep at night, I often wake up thinking I'm still in New York. I sometimes have visions of walking around Central Park or singing in the choir at TSC. I miss doing chores at home that I despised. I almost miss dealing with people that annoyed me. I miss the frenzied pace at which many New Yorkers walk. For the most part, Koreans don't walk very fast. They walk quite slowly. This has been a surprise to me, considering the size and bustle of this city. (Although a notable exception to this is the Korean old lady that aggressively pushes you out her way in a geriatric sprint toward a closing subway or bus door. My Korean musician friend Koo Chung warned me about this before I left New York. Everyone here seems to be used to it, and I don't take it personally.) Also, many Koreans tend not to watch where they're going in crowded areas. At least in Shinchon. The result of all of this is that I often bump into people and sometimes I almost knock them over.

I have become resigned to the homesickness, although I hope it goes away soon. A few friends who have lived or studied abroad have told me by e-mail that what I'm experiencing is normal and that it can be overcome. I often have to remind myself of how unhappy I was a few months ago. I also remind myself that for the first time in years I actually have a regular job. And that makes me a little bit happier.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Eyes on the prize

I'm sitting in the library at Aviation University, about a 20-minute bus ride from Shinchon. This campus is small and isolated. This area is quite rural, though it's such a short distance from the city. The quiet location reminds me of Morrisville College, which I attended for two years in upstate New York. The buildings are very modern, so this may be a relatively young insitution. I've come out here with Yoon Young, one of my students, who is a chemical engineering senior and has a pretty busy schedule, including 10 hours of study just for today. I'm using his laptop while he's attending a two-hour English resume-writing class in the next building.

The Korean workaholic concept is more than just a stereotype here. Many of these folks work like crazy, whether they want to or not. One of Yoon Young's friends just told me over lunch outside that the TOEIC English exam, which virtually all Korean students wanting a good job must take, focuses strongly on the technical aspects of grammar but does not function as a accurate measure of the student's actual English-speaking ability. He said, in so many words, we're studying, but we're not having enough opportunities to speak. I agree with this young man (whose spoken English, by the way, was impressive), but how do I begin to respond to something like this?

Yesterday after one of my writing classes, one of my favorite students told me very plainly how she found the writing assignments cumbersome and boring and, subsequently, was having some difficulty motivating herself to do the work. Her remark surprised me as she is one of my best students and her essays are better than most of those I've had to grade. I don't know if I agree that the assignments are that difficult--then again, being a native English speaker, I might not have an accurate concept of how difficult the assignment would be for the students. I do agree that some of the assignments are not very exciting. However, being a representative of the school at which you teach, you have to watch you say and what you agree with. I told her that the best way to motivate herself was to remember her goals of English fluency and to always be mindful of those goals when having to walk through the rudimentary elements of learning a language, which are seldom exciting for most people. This is the way to motivate myself with Korean, which frustrates me on a regular basis. Steve Kaufmann has written about the importance of visualizing oneself communicating fluently in the target langauge, however far off that day may be. It's basically keeping your eyes on the prize. That works for me.

I find that I often refer to my own Korean study in my classes--for example, I'll say, "When I'm studying Korean, I do ABC and XYZ, and in same way you should do ABC and XYZ with your English study." My students, who are often shocked that I would even have an interest in learning Korean, really respond to this type of thing. It's not that I necessarily want to talk about my study and my activity all the time with students, but it definitely seems to motivate them.

Right now I'm supposed to be grading papers and I'm still typing away, ha ha. The reason I started this blog entry was because while checking my e-mail I was pleasantly surprised to receive a message from a family in Pennsylvania with whom I haven't communicated in a few years. A mutual friend of ours informed them of my venture, and they visited this blog and responded to my post yesterday about my crisis. It was such a wonderfully encouraging message that I'd like to reprint part of it here. Much thanks to the Hageman family...

"The crisis thing is thoroughly understood. The best way to combat this (I've found) is to exercise faith in (the fact) that you're walking in the Lord's will for your life, and that's all that He requires.

"You can't look around at what others have or are experiencing at your age or it'll cause some emotional suffering. Keep your eyes fixed on what the Lord has provided! It's what He wants you to have right now.

"Another weapon to use against this type of crisis is to keep in mind that this life is only a temporary thing--much like your stay in Korea (unless the Lord's will would be ultimately for you to stay there). Our real home is spending eternity in heaven, so your labors of love for the Lord are going before you and your retirement plan is truly OUT OF THIS WORLD.

"We'll be praying that the Lord will help you rest in His will for your life. Keep your eyes fixed on Him! He's the same yesterday, today, and forever!!!"

Wonderful. Back to work...

Friday, August 18, 2006

Random thoughts

Listening to cool music online has been a good coping mechanism for me here. Some of my regulars have included Sufjan Stevens, Underoath, Becoming The Archetype, Zao, David Clifton, The Burn Band (featuring Vineyard UK's Sam Lane, one of my musical heroes) and Mary Alessi. Some of you may be scratching your heads and wondering how this Marc Hogi guy can mention folk, metal, emo, modern worship and gospel artists in the same sentence. You'll get used to it.

Currently I'm listening to "Breathing New Life" off of Todd Benjamin's MySpace page. A very simple song musically, but man has it gotten hold of me. Benjamin sounds something like a baritone version of Jason Upton. I can't stop listening to it. Unfortunately, "Breathing New Life" is the only song there and the page doesn't offer much information about him or his ministry. I hope this guy releases a CD soon.

Not all things in Korea represent a culture shock for me. The most obvious is city life itself. I am a city kid, so walking and taking public transportation are very normal to me. This is not so with some Americans who come from areas where everyone owns cars. Having spent two years in upstate New York and four in Alabama while in college, I certainly understand the necessity of a vehicle in an extra-urban context. However, when I hear the occasional expat complaint about having to walk everywhere or take the subway, inwardly I'm rolling my eyes and saying: "Puh-leeze."

Even the housing manager at my school apologized for my apartment being a 15-minute walk from the school. As if I'm supposed to have a problem with that. Although the humidity here makes things relatively miserable, I appreciate the sights and sounds of my walk to school. I also appreciate the exercise, as I have to climb a steep hill both ways. I particularly appreciate this after dragging myself out of bed at 5:30 a.m. to get ready for work. Maybe it will bother me more when winter rolls around.

The learning curve at work has caused me a great deal of stress. I take comfort in knowing that thousands of other teachers have walked this road before me. There's also a distinct possibility that I'm overreacting again. When I share some of my problems with the other teachers here, it doesn't seem to be a big deal to them.

I can't believe my August 12 birthday came and went so fast. How is it August 18 already? Anyhow, birthdays tend to inspire reflection and introspection, two things I'm very good at. However, I've found myself in the middle of another emotional crisis. I experience an emotional crisis every two to three weeks, but it's not usually as intense as has right now. I'd like to share all of the details with you right now, but I won't be able to do so without babbling incoherently. I suppose I can say that being almost halfway through my thirties, I often struggle with the feeling that my life is passing me by. The sense of responsibility for my life has become overwhelming. Yesterday I went by the church to meet with Pastor Bill for what I thought would be a hourlong conversation. Our talk very quickly became three hours, and I'm still reeling from much of our exchange. Even though he doesn't know me that well, he was still able to speak some very relevant concepts into my life with regard to many areas, among them spirituality, accomplishments, goals, shortcomings and career. It was an enlightening experience. It was also very painful.

I don't speak of "taking responsibility" in the sense of not depending on God, but more in the sense of fulfilling my God-given responsibilities instead of making excuses and waiting for someone else to do it for me. One of my responsbilities is learning total dependence. What has happened since I've been here is that my habits and worldview have not changed much. There are positives and negatives to this, and those of you who know me will know what I'm talking about. I wasn't under some delusion that flying over here was going to change who I was, but sometimes I sit back and think: "My goodness, am I this unchanged?"

I've had a couple of opportunities to eat with some of my students outside of class. Tomorrow I will be joining one of my students to go to the library. He will be studying all day. I don't plan to be there all day, but I will be studying as well. And getting caught up on grading papers.

I've had a revelation with the Korean language. If I study regularly, after a while some of this stuff actually begins to make sense.

I've gotten a lot of cool e-mailed comments from friends and family since I've arrived here. I may copy and paste some of them here sometime. I don't always have time to respond, but I do read everything. Keep them coming.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Hi.

Yes, I'm still here. I'm just a little busy today.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Pentecostals, Presbyterians and progress

Sometimes my progress in Korean, though not as rapid as I would like it to be, is a little better than I've thought it to be. I have been making a habit of writing new words in a notepad in hangul. Before I came here, a Korean-speaking colleague advised me to just learn the hangul and not rely on English romanizations of Korean words. I've found this advice very useful. Since I can at least read hangul and pronounce words, as opposed to not understanding it at all, I actually find it more convenient to learn a word. The only time I really depend on romanization is when I'm looking up words in my Korean-English dictionary, and even then I try to keep that dependence to a minimum. Also, having a chance to read hangul here in so many different types of fonts has helped me "discover" my handwriting. It's been freeing to not have to write hangul exactly as it appears in my textbooks, which I have found difficult and actually not very enjoyable. I can now write more simply and know that my writing will be understood. Once I write the words, I show them to Korean friends to make sure I've done them correctly. I don't consider my Korean penmanship very good, but everyone has complimented me and some have gone so far as to say that I write better than they do.

One of the teachers got me a copy of a textbook that follows one of the many local Korean courses at the universities here. I would write the title here, but it's in Korean and I may butcher it by trying to romanize it here. Though I plan to focus on self-study for a few months before taking formal classes, this textbook is excellent. It’s exciting to have access to materials that I wouldn't have been able to find back home. There are some aspects of Korean sentence structure that are slowly becoming coherent. This could not happen at a better time. Nothing gives me momentum like a little progress.

Today I visited the 10 a.m. IWE (International Worship in English) service at Youngnak for the first time. All of the services I've visited so far have been at 3 p.m., which is more "contemporary." 10 a.m. is more "traditional." Pastor Bill preached a powerful message about imitating the character of Christ. Being in a Presbyterian church has amounted to a strange cultural shift for me after being in a more charismatic church setting for so many years. Pastor Bill's hospitality and help have played a great part in me joining myself to IWE/Youngnak. At times it's a little quiet for me, but as I sat in the back while the group sang out of hymnals, I had strangely warm memories of my teenage years when my parents dragged me to a Presbyterian church in New Jersey every Sunday. If my father was alive today, he would probably be overjoyed to see me attending a Presbyterian church instead of one of those crazy Pentecostal fellowships. Ha ha.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Connecting

Yesterday I had a semi-formal meeting with the CEO of my school in Kangnam. It turned out to be relatively painless, and she and another administrator seemed very impressed at my interest in learning Korean. Afterward I stopped by the recruting director's office to say hi. He asked me how my teaching experience was so far and I told him: "Pretty good." His response: "Pretty good? Not fantastic?"

The reality is that my first few days here have represented a steep learning curve. Fortunately Monday and Tuesday are vacation days, and I'm looking forward to getting caught up on the administrative end. I am also learning to get more sleep. My good friend Cesar C. in New York, who once taught ESL at an Asian refugee camp, got on me in an e-mail this week about my sleeping habits. Those of you who know me may chuckle when you read this or shake your head, or both.

In spite of the learning curve, I seem to have connected fairly well with my students, which was one of the most important things to me. With a couple of exceptions, I've had very positive experiences with my students, much more so than other teachers I've heard about. I think my appearance and background definitely work in my favor. Koreans are star struck when I tell them I'm from New York City. They are also amazed when I tell them I don't play basketball. They are even more amazed when I tell them I don't drink. Drinking is a big thing in Korea. I think in a general sense, the students find me somewhat intriguing. A couple of students have invited me to lunch or dinner. In turn, I have started to invite students out for additional English tutoring, language exhange or other activities. I hope I don't get in over me head as I begin to do this.

Some of my experiences have been quite humorous. My favorite from this week occurred in a lower-level class when a very sincere student asked me: "Teacher, you don't drink at all?" No, I don't, I told him. He then pointed to my hand and, referring to my skin color, said to me in so much broken English that he thought that all people like me drank alcohol. He then commented how "gentle" I was.

Though the environment at my school is much more socially progressive than I thought it would be, Koreans' contact with outsiders remains limited and so stereotypes abound. I didn't travel here with an agenda to change the world, but I think I have turned a number of stereotypes and perceptions upside down. A student asked me this morning if I carried a gun in New York, presuming New York to be an extremely dangerous place. I explained to her and the rest of the class that people outside of New York view New York as a very dangerous place the same way that people outside of Korea view Korea as a very dangerous place. South Koreans generally do not worry about what's happening in the north, and most New Yorkers, though jittery over the threat of terrorism, don't obsess too much over their personal safety from day to day. It's very gratifying to explain a concept to students and watch their eyes light up as if to say, "Oh yeah, that makes sense."

I teach approximately 50 students a day, which represent seven class sessions and three curriculums. This has proved convenient, as I can do a lesson with one class and then improve upon that lesson in the next class following the same curriculum.

I've also become much more comfortable with speaking in front of the classes. When I'm forced to improvise a lesson, no one seems to notice. I've also learned not to fear the "silent times" when students seem quiet and unresponsive. This occurs most often with the lower-level students, and reflects the influence of a culture in which excessive speaking is viewed as insubordination. After pairing them up for discussion and conversation, it's not too hard to get them talking. And I have been surprised at how openly my students will discuss politics, economics, stereotypes, relationships, parental pressure, and the things they dislike about their own country.

I turn 34 on Saturday, and today one of my classes surprised me with a birthday cake and a box of cookies. I've been asked my age a few times and people are surprised when I tell them I'm 33 (or 34 in Korean age). I would think that the prominent gray hairs in my goatee would give me away, but apparently they don't. That's pretty cool.

A couple of giggly adolescent students have not been very shy in showing their infatuation with me. One particularly giggly student found me "cute." I find this sort of thing simultaneously flattering and unnerving.

Monday, August 07, 2006

HELLO.

Good grief. I've only been here two weeks and already I have an insane workload. But it makes the day go by faster. I teach a lot during the day and then I have to prepare lessons and grade papers, and then all of a sudden it's 11 p.m. and I haven't eaten dinner yet.

I went back to the immigration office in Omokgyo to pick up my alien registration card. I didn't get lost this time, and I'm very proud of myself for that. However, I still get lost when trying to take a shortcut from my apartment to the school. And Sunday afternoon I almost got lost in the subway station at Euljiro on my way to Youngnak Church, even though I've been there five times already. The subway stations here are humongous, and it's easy to miss one's exit amidst the jumble of signs.

Speaking of signs, there are a lot of them everywhere I turn. Though a few are in English, the majority are not, and that can become very disorienting after a while. Even though I don't know what most of it means, I can at least pronounce the hangul script. So I'm learning to fight the confusion by reading every sign I see out loud. It's a good coping mechanism, and educational too.

Saturday night I met with Pastor Bill at the church and we had a good conversation. Afterward I took the subway to Kangnam to meet my friend Ed C., another newly arrived teacher, for dinner. On the fairly crowded I was standing and reading a Korean grammar book one of the teachers lent me when all of a sudden a 6-year-old came up from behind, stood in front of me, and said in a loud 6-year-old voice: "HELLO." He then went back to his parents, then came back a second time and said: "THANK YOU." He then went back to his parents, then came back a third time and said: "I'M KOREAN." Everybody on the train was cracking up. I came close to cracking up too.

Slowly I'm making friends here, including some musicians. After repressing my musical sensibilities for a couple of weeks, I feel like I'm ready to get back in the groove.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Bilingual

bl, true Christ is the ultimate expression of "hardcore". but blast beats and breakdowns are what i'm talking about. i just want something to keep me awake while i work. law firms can be pretty dull

--From the "Comments" section of Relevant TV's Web page, referring to Christian hardcore music

Today I got lost again, this time in an area near Euljiro. I was looking for the park that Grace took me to Sunday evening, and I wanted to attempt a more direct route than the roundabout way we took. It wasn't pretty. I rode the subway to what I thought was the nearest station. But as I got out and walked around, I noticed that I was in a neighborhood I had never been in before, and Namsan Mountain was far away. Too far away. I had to ask directions from three different people along the way. I had to get back on the subway and take it to the stop by Youngnak Church. I came out of a totally different exit, and so I was still lost. The last guy that helped me, I approached him and asked him in broken Korean where the church was, that being my only landmark. He responded to me in broken English. Turned out I was two blocks away. I ran into Pastor Leon and another gentleman who apparently didn't speak much English. However, he offered to buy me an ice cream bar at a mini mart next to the church. That was pretty cool. I listened to spoken Korean in my headphones to try to redeem all of this time I was spending walking around aimlessly. By the time I got to the park I was a little bit tired and ended up not spending as much time there as I had planned.

From my observation most Koreans are not bilingual. Many Koreans I have met do not speak any English. There's a street vendor near the school that sells fried seafood, and I've stopped by a couple of times to buy my lunch. I order in broken English and point at what I want. I also hold up four fingers to indicate that I want four of those fried thingies. The woman at the stand speaks no English, yet barrages me with questions as if I'm supposed to understand her. I though my hand signals were simple enough, but apparently she needs all forms of clarification. I look forward to a day when I can actually understand her. She looks annoyed when we try to communicate. I just continue smiling and saying "Ne" ("Yes") until I get what I want.

Monolingual Koreans notwithstanding, I've been impressed at the number of people here who speak at least some rudimentary English. Even the lowest-level students at my school can express themselves fairly coherently, if not eloquently. It amazes me because Korean and English are radically different languages. My study of Korean has been an uphill battle. It's sometimes hard for me to imagine so many Koreans exerting a similar effort to learn English.

It's 10:46 p.m. I'm in a "PC bang" ("PC room," or Internet cafe) getting ready to type out my syllabi, which I realized should have been done already. I also have to do some lesson plans. My first three days represent a work in progress. I have a steep learning curve. I seem to be connecting well with most of my students. I think my height and general appearance have really surprised some people. The most difficult thing. I'm teaching three different curricula a day, spread out among seven classes a day. Fortunately I don't have to assign homework for all of those, and my school's curricula are pretty straightforward. But I've underestimated the workload and now it's crunch time. I actually shouldn't even be writing on this blog tonight. My move-in date has been postponed again, but Friday (tomorrow) seems to be the day. I'm going to be kind of crazed for the next 24 hours.

This morning was the first time I woke up so tired I had to drag myself out of bed at the sound of the alarm. In other words, I'm over my jet lag and it feels just like home!

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Myongdogi issoyo?

There are adventures that are fun and there are adventures that are not so fun. Yesterday I had a couple of adventures that were not so fun. My subway ride to register at the immigration office was straightforward enough, but but I got lost on the 10-minute walk from the station to the office. And then after leaving the office I got lost on the way back to the station. It was embarassing because I normally have great sense of direction, and I usually retrace my steps very well. The rainy season has ended and it's nice that the sun is finally out, but now it's incredibly humid and wandering aimlessly on a humid afternoon does not make me happy. Fortunately I had a map (in Korean, of course) and a couple of people helped me out. I'm having lots of practice stopping people and asking them for help in Korean. My other adventure took place when I set out to find an adaptor for my 120-volt electric shaver so I could cut my hair. I like my head shaved and I usually cut it myself every two to three weeks. I spent at least two hours attempting to find someplace to buy it. I had to take the subway to Kongsam, which apparently is the electronics mecca of Seoul. The subway transfer from line #2 (my line) to line #5 was a little complicated and I almost got lost again. And I did a lot of walking. Which I normally don't mind, but I was getting a little tired and I really wanted to be able to shave my head early in the day and spend the afternoon studying Korean and getting ready to teach on Wednesday. It was getting later and later (and very crowded on the subway) and this part of town was a little bit different demographically, which meant more people staring at me than usual, which was a little amusing but not so good since at this point I was kind of cranky.

When I finally got the adaptor home, I anxiously entered the bathroom and plugged everything in, anticipating the gentle buzz of my shaver. Unfortunately, the adaptor almost blew up my shaver. It didn't buzz gently. It roared. If I put that thing on top of my head, it might have taken off my scalp. And so I had to figure out a plan B, since I have to cut my hair sometime over the next year that I'll be living here. After some more suggestions from some of the teachers, I decided to just buy a new shaver at a nearby department store. I went to the store and came out with a rinky-dink, bluish lavender, girly-looking shaver that I bought for 49,000 won (about $50 U.S.) and guess what? It works. After shaving my head I was a little bit happier. Last night it got cool and I ate chicken on a stick again across the street at YooSoo's food stand. That made me really happy.

In New York I had a collection of about 300 to 350 music CDs. No, I'm not planning to buy an iPod, so please don't ask me. When planning to move to South Korea I had to figure out how to narrow it down. I ended up buying a 200-sleeve CD wallet from Staples, and then taking almost 200 CDs out of their jewel cases and putting them in. Of course, it was difficult narrowing them down and now that I'm here on the other side of the world I can't stop thinking about the ones I wish I'd brought.

I finally got in touch with JeaDo this morning and we're going to hang out later today. Tonight I may check out the weekly meeting at Helping Hands Korea, a Western-founded nonprofit that helps North Korean refugees. Once I get my work schedule, I don't think I'm going to have my evenings free for a while. It's been cool to have enough time to get over my jet lag. I spoke to one teacher who found himself in a classroom the same day he got off the plane a few years ago, not an uncommon occurrence in some schools. I'll be glad to begin work as all of this anticipation is making me a little crazy.