Caveat: And so begins a fifth year

At the risk of boring everyone with a third blog post in less than 24 hours, I feel compelled to observe that today is the fourth anniversary of [broken link! FIXME] my arrival in Korea.  On September 1st, 2007, I landed at Incheon and made my way to Ilsan, where I was met by my new employer, Danny, of the eventually-defunct Tomorrow School, to begin my new teaching career.

I have spent all of the last four years in Korea, with the exception of a three-month, unemployed hiatus back in the US in the fall of 2009, and several shorter vacation trips – two to Australia to visit my mother (with side-junkets to Hong Kong and New Zealand), and one to Japan to resolve a visa issue.

I like Korea.  I'm not really a Koreanophile, though.  Although my linguistico-aesthetic infatuation with the Korean language refuses to go away, I'm actually only lukewarm when it comes to Korean culture in more general terms.  It has a lot of shortcomings, and I'm not always happy with it.  But… I will attach two caveats to that statement:  1) I think the Korean polity is less dysfunctional that the US polity, and that's a notable achievement (the current state of the US polity is so depressing as to leave me feeling embarrassed to claim US citizenship); 2) I reached a level of alienated "comfort" with life in Korea that is at least equal to the perpetual alienation I have always felt within my own country and culture.

The consequence of these preceding observations is that, as things stand, I have no interest in (and no current plans for) returning to the US – except perhaps for brief visits.  For better or for worse, for now, Korea is my home.  If, for whatever reason in the future, my life in Korea has to end, I will seek to continue my expat life elsewhere.

I have changed a great deal in the last four years.  I have acquired some confidence as a teacher; I have built some good habits; most notably, I have embraced a sort of meditative buddhist zen (선) atheism that works well for me.  Although I'm hardly content – often lonely, often aimless in a philosophical or "spiritual" sense (as much as I dislike the concept of spirituality) – in fact I have found a kind of inner peace that my life prior to this most recent phase utterly lacked.

So, there you have it.  And so begins a fifth year…

I took the picture below on a long hike in October 2007.  It shows some scarecrows in a field of cut rice, across the highway from the former Camp Edwards, in Geumchon, Paju-si (about 7 km northwest of where I live), which incidentally is where I was stationed in 1991, during my time in the US Army as a mechanic and tow truck driver. Thus, you see, my "roots" in Northwest Gyeonggi Province go "way back."

[broken link! FIXME] 200710_IlsanKR_P1000826

Caveat: Self-determination

[broken link! FIXME] Self_html_57d6b418 Debate Proposition: "All people have a right to self-determination." This video is of the month-final debate test for our debate class with the TP1 cohort (7th graders), which I recorded on Monday. We worked on this topic for about 6 classes (2 weeks).

This class is my strongest class, intellectually. I realize they don't always make perfect sense, and sometimes in this video they're hard even to hear clearly… but I think considering they're non-native-speakers, navigating a very grown-up, complex topic, they really are doing quite well.

Caveat: 85) 부처님. 저는 화내지 않기를 발원하며 절합니다

“Buddha. I bow and pray not to get angry.”

This is #85 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).


83. 항상 스님의 가르침을 따르기를 발원하며 절합니다.
        “I bow and pray to follow always the teachings of the monks.”
84. 부처님. 저는 욕심을 내지 않기를 발원하며 절합니다.
        “Buddha. I bow and pray not to be greedy.”
85. 부처님 . 저는 화내지 않기를 발원하며 절합니다.

I would read this eighty-fifth affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to get angry.”

Today, I thought of getting angry but really there was no point. There was no copy machine. Which is also the main printer (so there was no printer except for the slow slow color one). I asked, “what happened to the copy machine?”

I was told we didn’t have one today.  Maybe it’s being serviced?  My boss pointed at the whiteboard that serves as a bulletin board in the office.  “Didn’t you see?  I wrote it, right there.”

Here is what was written on the white board:

picture

“Ah,” I said. “That should’ve been obvious, then.” I guess I was being a little bit sarcastic.

Because, no, I didn’t read the notice on the bulletin board. I didn’t even try.

Setting aside that fact that I tune out Korean in these contexts to some extent, the handwriting is exceptionally messy, too. I just didn’t see the point in trying to decipher it. Obviously, I made a mistake.

Looking at it, now, I can see it says something about the copier, and about copying beforehand. I still can’t figure out the last verb – but yes. I can get the drift.

I’ve learned a small lesson. It’s one I’ve learned, repeatedly, before: the “Korean communication taboo” isn’t as all-encompassing as it appears to foreigners. But overcoming it does require one to put the effort into understanding the language and paying attention to the appropriate channels of communication.

CaveatDumpTruck Logo

Back to Top