I have now spent 5 months with the same kids. I watched them grow not quite into the people I had imagined creating (my God is a teacher’s progress sloooooow, I can only imagine that motherhood must seem an eternity of effort) but more dear to my heart is the relationship they’ve developed with me. Somewhere along the line we seem to have found an easy trust with each other. I used to think they would constantly be trying to pull one over on me if I wasn’t diligent in my attention, but I have since realized that they are honest little buggers. We have jokes without words and funny faces that we share. They can read my lips and my sternest of glares, and they return my warmest smiles on a daily basis.
I find myself in awe of their intelligence, the way they understand my gestures, my moods, my hidden implications. They make me laugh with their creativity in finding ways to avoid doing work (testing me in Korean usually works really well) or tricking me into thinking their homework isn’t done when it is. I have read their journals for months, learned about their families (‘Where's my bed? It's on the floor of the living room where I sleep with my grandparents’) and their fears (‘In 2009 I will be living in the Philippines. Yes teacher, it will be exciting. But I will miss my mom’). I have come to truly care if they pass their tests of not.
All the drama, condescending bullshit and lack of communication from the administration melt away when one of the little brats makes me laugh. This will be my only whole semester here, the only kids all mine for a full level. From January to June, the middle of my time in Korea, I have been so lucky in the students I spend my days with. In so many cases, I have found the middle of any journey to be the most carefree and happy.
Do I sound like a real teacher today? It’s only because I’m sentimental that it’s Friday. I always feel the warmest glow for life on Friday afternoon. The coast is beckoning and I can almost feel the Saturday sun on my face…
And yet, as I watch like the guardian angel I am (I have nearly finished an entire novel in the last two days) over my last class writing their tests, and even as I take these very notes, one of my students comes back from the bathroom and, thanks to that intelligence I have spoken so highly of, chooses to enter the room by slamming his body against the door, which smashes into the closest desk that is obstructing the opening, and crushing the finger of another student between said desk and his own. My work here is never done.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Bad things happen when cows eat cows
Protests raged as Korea began to import US beef this month for the first time since 2003. To be honest, I find it hard to know what to believe on the subject of mad cow. It’s hard to enter any classroom lately without hearing a joke or discussion on the topic, so this afternoon I staged the great debate with an advanced class to gauge the students’ knowledge.
I see two scenarios:
IF the Korean government is choosing between keeping a good relationship with a superpower, and taking the same calculated and unlikely risk that Ameicans take every day in meat consumption, then maybe it is smarter to play the odds. Can Korea afford to piss off the US on the trade front? And if the bad meat is merely a rumour perpetuated by Korean farmers to save their own paychecks, then the government appears to be putting its global economy above anything else. Considering its attempt to participate in the world economy on as large a scale as is possible for this tiny nation; considering this nation is getting back on its feet, after a vicious history, at an impressive rate and in a big way; international relations is a pressure Lee Myeong Bak undoubtedly, and justifiably, feels. Though I still believe in the many benefits of supporting what is homegrown, a concept rapidly decreasing in popularity in this age of privatization and outsourcing. Perhaps a debate for another day ...
The importing of US beef marks the defeat of the final obstacle standing in the way of the US-Korea Free-trade agreement and supposedly creates 130,000 jobs on Korean soil. On the other hand the U.S. beef industry has lost up to $4 billion since the market closed in 2003 (U.S. Meat Export Federation). A situation convenient for everyone? Now that would be nice. But then why has fear of mad cow found its way into every classroom in my school? Lee Myeong Bak apologized to the country for his lack of communication (read: patronization?) about the beef imports while Korean citizens were being beaten by police at riots spurred by fear. Whose story do we trust?
The idea that it’s so hard to grasp the enemy in our current lives was brought to my attention yet again in a recent movie (Before Sunrise, even better on Sean’s makeshift big screen). It’s practically characteristic of this age for the government to lie under false innocence, for the media to be controlled by whoever has the money to buy the truth. We create mindless money-hungry monsters called corporations, we allow decisions to be made without informing ourselves, and then we wonder: who is at fault for these problems? And so, among so many other places, we end up here, where the average person lacks the answers to what should be a simple question: will the beef I am eating for lunch today kill me? And even more, is the government I freely elected allowing that to happen?
On the other hand, IF the government is trading economics sanctions for the health of its people, who is there left in the world to trust? In a country determined to preserve its fragile traditions in the midst of American cultural colonialism, how can a risk like this be justified? How can domestic reliance be so carelessly tossed aside? And as my students so passionately pointed out in our discussion today, Korea has been burned by America in the past. My students have not learned to have faith in the US, despite their continued military presence here suggesting an allied attitude toward support and defense. This afternoon they explained to me how America treated this country as her own during the cold war, broke it up over her own feud with Russia, and is now remaining in occupation of the most heavily armed border in the world to defend her own interests. Well, they used less words. But they understand trust. And much faster than my own faith in government was lost, I listen in distressing awe to the statements that reveal theirs is past slipping away. Not that a lying government is anything new. But what I have trouble stomaching is the scheming, premise-inventing, deny-deny-deny attitude that I am beginning to learn is not only prevalent but widely accepted as inevitable.
And beyond all of this maybe we should ask ourselves, why on earth has our world ever come to cows eating cows in the first place? Surely we can learn from this disturbingly unnatural phenomenon: treating members of the same species like meat, selling each other for profit and competing ruthlessly for shared resources can only destroy what makes us human, in the end.
I see two scenarios:
IF the Korean government is choosing between keeping a good relationship with a superpower, and taking the same calculated and unlikely risk that Ameicans take every day in meat consumption, then maybe it is smarter to play the odds. Can Korea afford to piss off the US on the trade front? And if the bad meat is merely a rumour perpetuated by Korean farmers to save their own paychecks, then the government appears to be putting its global economy above anything else. Considering its attempt to participate in the world economy on as large a scale as is possible for this tiny nation; considering this nation is getting back on its feet, after a vicious history, at an impressive rate and in a big way; international relations is a pressure Lee Myeong Bak undoubtedly, and justifiably, feels. Though I still believe in the many benefits of supporting what is homegrown, a concept rapidly decreasing in popularity in this age of privatization and outsourcing. Perhaps a debate for another day ...
The importing of US beef marks the defeat of the final obstacle standing in the way of the US-Korea Free-trade agreement and supposedly creates 130,000 jobs on Korean soil. On the other hand the U.S. beef industry has lost up to $4 billion since the market closed in 2003 (U.S. Meat Export Federation). A situation convenient for everyone? Now that would be nice. But then why has fear of mad cow found its way into every classroom in my school? Lee Myeong Bak apologized to the country for his lack of communication (read: patronization?) about the beef imports while Korean citizens were being beaten by police at riots spurred by fear. Whose story do we trust?
The idea that it’s so hard to grasp the enemy in our current lives was brought to my attention yet again in a recent movie (Before Sunrise, even better on Sean’s makeshift big screen). It’s practically characteristic of this age for the government to lie under false innocence, for the media to be controlled by whoever has the money to buy the truth. We create mindless money-hungry monsters called corporations, we allow decisions to be made without informing ourselves, and then we wonder: who is at fault for these problems? And so, among so many other places, we end up here, where the average person lacks the answers to what should be a simple question: will the beef I am eating for lunch today kill me? And even more, is the government I freely elected allowing that to happen?
On the other hand, IF the government is trading economics sanctions for the health of its people, who is there left in the world to trust? In a country determined to preserve its fragile traditions in the midst of American cultural colonialism, how can a risk like this be justified? How can domestic reliance be so carelessly tossed aside? And as my students so passionately pointed out in our discussion today, Korea has been burned by America in the past. My students have not learned to have faith in the US, despite their continued military presence here suggesting an allied attitude toward support and defense. This afternoon they explained to me how America treated this country as her own during the cold war, broke it up over her own feud with Russia, and is now remaining in occupation of the most heavily armed border in the world to defend her own interests. Well, they used less words. But they understand trust. And much faster than my own faith in government was lost, I listen in distressing awe to the statements that reveal theirs is past slipping away. Not that a lying government is anything new. But what I have trouble stomaching is the scheming, premise-inventing, deny-deny-deny attitude that I am beginning to learn is not only prevalent but widely accepted as inevitable.
And beyond all of this maybe we should ask ourselves, why on earth has our world ever come to cows eating cows in the first place? Surely we can learn from this disturbingly unnatural phenomenon: treating members of the same species like meat, selling each other for profit and competing ruthlessly for shared resources can only destroy what makes us human, in the end.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Thoughts on Words
Writing means presenting. In words. New ideas. Taking a stand, choosing the angle, asking the questions that get answers so that each sentence has substance and is supported. By an idea. By who I am. By what I stand for. By what I decide to say I stand for. Each idea marks a decision. Each decision must be reached by my thoughts alone. Well not alone – after contemplating the entire universe, or as much of it as I can keep in my vision at one time. But ultimately, by me. I am tired of just asking questions. And I am tired of being the team member that catalyzes and cheers but never reaches far enough or fast enough. Just as I always know the directions when I’m alone, so I will go forth with that trust in myself. So I will write, read, listen and travel.
Starting now. Because it's never too late. And I won't look back. Because change is constant, transition may never temporary, and temporary has never been more wonderful.
Starting now. Because it's never too late. And I won't look back. Because change is constant, transition may never temporary, and temporary has never been more wonderful.
Changes
It's time to make some changes. No more blog importing to facebook. If you wanna read me, read me here. No more blog focused on Korea. (Note to self: I should really change the title.) I have been struggling with how to present the ordinary, and have come to realize that it's just not practical to separate my thoughts on what started out as a trip, but has now become my life. The changes within me are at once vague and simple, convoluted and sometimes puzzling. I want to write from here, without boundaries, without separation of space and time. Naturally Korea will be the focus for now, but somehow I needed to put this in words so I could let go of the idea that I was just writing about exciting weekends full of new things. Gone are those days. As in university when you suddenly start to call the school town home, I vow, from this day forward, to never refer to my previous years as 'real life'. This life is fantastic and surreal and idealistic in so many ways - but it's the most real it's ever been.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Ramblings On
So apparently I have perfected the art of cruise control. I thought I had it down pretty well on those long highway drives from Newmarket to Barrie in the old days, or through the years of glassy-eyed morning classes for which I still ended up with passable notes. It is a little harder these days with the massive Korean mosquito bites fighting for my attention – but the kids seem to be having a nice numbing effect lately and I’m not complaining. Perhaps it means I’m truly good at this teaching thing, when I look up at the clock and hours have passed and I’ve barely noticed, yet an air of learning hangs loftily in the classroom. Perhaps it means I have truly learned to live in the moment. Though I suppose that particular claim is usually reserved for life-confirming experiences rather than the mere triumph over consciousness. Perhaps it’s the shortage of sleep in my life – soul searching is hard work you know. I am reminded of the two day crash, characteristic of a university student’s first days at home after Winter exams, only this time there will be no stocked-fridge, clean-sheeted relief; in fact, in Southeast Asia, the opposite is so much more likely. Bring it on.
There are other side effects. Text-made plans are the worst – very easy to forget they’ve been made. I have yet to lose my keys, I’ll take that as a good sign. In fact things are usually where I need them to be; I am well trained. Gone though are the days when I’d get my mind back on a Saturday, even those have slowly ebbed away with the tides of time. Who needs a mind on a Saturday anyways? Take this week: a hotel party for Annie’s birthday. I’m sure I’ll need to mend some sense of the good foreigner Samaritan come Sunday, to balance the bad impressions we are sure to make – but until then, the year of endless floating continues …
Though when I remind myself just how much thinking I do on a regular basis, I remember to understand. No wonder my brain takes the Korean 9-5 as rest time, sometimes it’s the easier part of my day. We live in a dense little world, and for a change I am appreciating the art of paying attention.
There are other side effects. Text-made plans are the worst – very easy to forget they’ve been made. I have yet to lose my keys, I’ll take that as a good sign. In fact things are usually where I need them to be; I am well trained. Gone though are the days when I’d get my mind back on a Saturday, even those have slowly ebbed away with the tides of time. Who needs a mind on a Saturday anyways? Take this week: a hotel party for Annie’s birthday. I’m sure I’ll need to mend some sense of the good foreigner Samaritan come Sunday, to balance the bad impressions we are sure to make – but until then, the year of endless floating continues …
Though when I remind myself just how much thinking I do on a regular basis, I remember to understand. No wonder my brain takes the Korean 9-5 as rest time, sometimes it’s the easier part of my day. We live in a dense little world, and for a change I am appreciating the art of paying attention.
Friday, May 9, 2008
DMZ - Utterly Surreal
The four miles between the populations of North Korea and South Korea stretches like an eternity, guarded heavily with guns and bruised pride. Visitors are not allowed to wear any clothes with holes, no flip flops, no shorts, nothing too baggy, nothing that can be twisted and used as propoganda against the South. No hand gestures while at the actual border, same reason. No cameras with too large a zoom. We went into the Mac House, where countless discussions have taken place for the last 50 years, tho solved very little. Briefly, we crossed the border there into NK. (It is possible to spend a weekend in the country, however it's mucho expensive - like 100s of dollars - and you must have government guides with you at all times, so it's not like you can see anything real, or speak to any people. Still, its a step, I guess. Progress is so damn slow.)
Guided by American soldiers, we looked out over the vastness to Kijong-dong, "Propoganda Village", where the North Korean flag flies proudly on the tallest flagpole in the world (160m). We watched a very strange film where space that has been empty for decades suddenly sprouted animated flowers and wooden benches and walking paths for future generations to stroll through. A dream I guess, for the future. One that gets further away as Lee Myeong-Bak (the recently elected SK president) tightens the reigns and stirs up old bitterness. However, watching the tallest, smartest and strongest Korean boys serve their military time in this sad, bitter place, I understand more than ever why something must be done. A beautiful building was built to house family reunions, families separated by a suddenly erected border, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and kept there by decades of lies, harsh laws and big guns. Most of them never happened.
The tunnel was incredible as well - we went into the third one discovered, built to allow an entire division to cross through from North Korea into South Korea in an hour. This tunnel ends 50 km from Seoul.
And all the while you wonder how much is true, how much propoganda we ourselves are being fed, how much hostility we are creating under claims of negotiation or progress. I so hope to see the end to this border in my lifetime.
Guided by American soldiers, we looked out over the vastness to Kijong-dong, "Propoganda Village", where the North Korean flag flies proudly on the tallest flagpole in the world (160m). We watched a very strange film where space that has been empty for decades suddenly sprouted animated flowers and wooden benches and walking paths for future generations to stroll through. A dream I guess, for the future. One that gets further away as Lee Myeong-Bak (the recently elected SK president) tightens the reigns and stirs up old bitterness. However, watching the tallest, smartest and strongest Korean boys serve their military time in this sad, bitter place, I understand more than ever why something must be done. A beautiful building was built to house family reunions, families separated by a suddenly erected border, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and kept there by decades of lies, harsh laws and big guns. Most of them never happened.
The tunnel was incredible as well - we went into the third one discovered, built to allow an entire division to cross through from North Korea into South Korea in an hour. This tunnel ends 50 km from Seoul.
And all the while you wonder how much is true, how much propoganda we ourselves are being fed, how much hostility we are creating under claims of negotiation or progress. I so hope to see the end to this border in my lifetime.
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