Caveat: Left Out

Well, I admit I'm feeling more than a little bit grumpy about work, this morning.

Last night, we had one of those typical Korean after-work dinner events: 회식 [hweh-sik]. Not formally obligatory, but socially "highly recommended," as it were.

But here's the thing: I didn't go.

And I would have gone.

But I didn't even know it was happening. That's pretty annoying.

Typically, there are two kinds of hweh-sik. The first kind is the pre-planned, long announced one. Often, there's a message on the staffroom whiteboard at least several days before, which I try to take the time to look at once a day and see if anything new has appeared. Of course it will be written in Korean, but I'll decipher the handwriting, look up any words I don't recognize, and make sure I know what it's about. And hweh-sik is a common enough phenomenon that I recognize these readily, now.

The second kind is more spontaneous, as in, "hey, we're going out after work." Even then, I'm not always told, but if I'm in the staff room or at the front desk, I'll overhear the conversation, in Korean, and catch the drift and butt in and see if I've understood correctly. 

Well, last night, I guess the decision was made after 8 pm. I had classes for the last two periods of the day, so I wasn't out of the class room at all – I just went from one class to the other, and reappeared in the staff room after my last class. The decision had been taken. And no one was talking about it. And no one told me.

Sometimes, on these spontaneous kind, I will bow out. I don't like having my daily schedule discombobulated unexpectedly – it's part of my new, more stick-in-the-mud personality that seems to have been implanted with my re-engineered post-cancer tongue. I have been bowing out of these spontaneous ones less, lately, though. I really do see the value of these gatherings, even if they are stressful for me.

They are stressful – more than any other aspect of my job. I'm not particularly good at socializing, anyway. I'm a shy person, and not very good at what you might call "bar banter" which is, of course, the main semantic content of these types of outings. And of course they are 97% in Korean. I'm the only non-Korean speaker, after all. Why socialize in the second language, even if everyone is competent in that second language, when the first language is more comfortable?

So it's like a language immersion experience. And as you know, I have insecurities about that… about my abilities and competence, about my failure to do better, about my presumed identity as a "linguist" – "What, you're a linguist? Why haven't you mastered Korean?" Remember, linguists aren't necessarily polyglots. Those are different things. I study about language, I just don't learn languages – not very well, anyway.

Anyway, summarizing in brief, sometimes I decide not to go. And I might have decided not to go, last night – I wasn't feeling the best, already. I was tired, finishing a heavy schedule yesterday, and in a bit in bad mood because of my struggles with that HS1T cohort that's been giving me so much frustration recently.

But at least I would still prefer to have to option to make this decision. Instead, I was left out, which is altogether a different feeling.

I found out about it because it was announced, in Korean, on the Kakaotalk app  [ka-tok] Karma discussion channel on my phone (Kakaotalk is the most popular Korean chat chat platform, a bit like facebook messenger or the old yahoo messenger app). This is a thing I try to watch, too, like the whiteboard in the staff room. I'd even been aware there had been some discussion posted while I was in class. But it was a bunch of dense Korean text, and I didn't even scan it while I was still at work. Instead, once home, changed for bed, eating some dinner, I thought, Oh, I should see what that ka-tok was about. I will do a thing where I drop the text from ka-tok into my email drafts, then I can open the email draft in my browser on my computer and get a google-translate of it, which is a place for starting to sort out what it's about. And there it was – we were having a hweh-sik. Presumably, they were there as I read it. 

I don't know how I could have necessarily known about it even if my Korean were perfect – I would have had to have checked the ka-tok app as if it were potentially urgent, which is not how it's typically used, except in contexts where something is already in progress – i.e. where are we meeting? meeting tomorrow moved from 3:00 to 2:30… that kind of thing.

I was pretty pissed off.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: __ : __ :: __ : __

This blog post will not be very substantive.
Just a thought-for-the-day (in the form of an old-school SAT-style analogy – now obsolete, this will really only be culturally identifiable to you if you took the SAT before 2005):

Korean curry : Indian curry :: American tacos : Mexican tacos
i.e. Korean curry is to Indian curry as American tacos are to Mexican tacos. 

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: At least the water is free

In commemoration of Korea's Liberation 72 years ago today, the local sky has been liberating an immense amount of water onto the ground, trees and buildings in Ilsan.

Happy liberation day.

I might not take a walk, today, since I don't have to go to work and since it's rather damp outside.

[daily log: walking, around the apartment anyway, maybe down to the 편의점 downstairs]

Caveat: I love my job

My student left this next to the monkey on my desk.

"Trash monkey" is another name for the Minneapolitan rainbow monkey (and/or his neon green friend). The idea is that the monkeys like trash – which I tell my students because it compels them to pick up their trash and put it like an offering on a free desk where the monkey "collects" their trash. This aids in cleaning the classroom at the end of the period, since for whatever bizarre Korean cultural reason, classrooms don't have individual trashcans.

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[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Blood on the White House carpet

The below was written by Roger Fisher, in The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, in 1981.

My favourite activity is inventing. An early arms control proposal dealt with the problem of distancing that the President would have in the circumstances of facing a decision about nuclear war. There is a young man, probably a Navy officer, who accompanies the President. This young man has a black attache case which contains the codes that are needed to fire nuclear weapons. I could see the President at a staff meeting considering nuclear war as an abstract question. He might conclude: "On SIOP Plan One, the decision is affirmative. Communicate the Alpha line XYZ.." Such jargon holds what is involved at a distance.

My suggestion was quite simple: Put that needed code number in a little capsule, and then implant that capsule right next to the heart of a volunteer. The volunteer would carry with him a big, heavy butcher knife as he accompanied the President. If ever the President wanted to fire nuclear weapons, the only way he could do so would be for him first, with his own hands, to kill one human being. The President says, "George, I’m sorry but tens of millions must die." He has to look at someone and realize what death is – what an innocent death is. Blood on the White House carpet. It’s reality brought home.

"When I suggested this to friends in the Pentagon they said, "My God, that’s terrible. Having to kill someone would distort the President’s judgement. He might never push the button."

Unrelatedly (except for maybe the vague atmospherics of 1980s-era nuclear angst), what I'm listening to right now.

New Order, "True Faith."

In 1991, I was a US Army soldier, stationed at Camp Edwards, Paju, Korea – a few kilometers from the DMZ and a few kilometers (5 subway stations) from where I live now. I had a Laotian-American barracksmate, with the euphonious surname Inthalangsy, who was a gangbanger from Houston who'd been offered one of those "join the Army or go to jail" options that judges seem to used to have had the option of offering. Inthalangsy was a die-hard New Order fan, and so this song was on very heavy rotation in our barracks room. The Korean soldiers (KATUSAs) didn't like it, and I think Inthalangsy played it partly because he knew it annoyed them. It grew on me.

Lyrics.

I feel so extraordinary
Something's got a hold on me
I get this feeling I'm in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
I don't care 'cause I'm not there
And I don't care if I'm here tomorrow
Again and again I've taken too much
Of the things that cost you too much

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun…

When I was a very small boy,
Very small boys talked to me
Now that we've grown up together
They're afraid of what they see
That's the price that we all pay
Our valued destiny comes to nothing
I can't tell you where we're going
I guess there was just no way of knowing

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun…

I feel so extraordinary
Something's got a hold on me
I get this feeling I'm in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
The chances are we've gone too far
You took my time and you took my money
Now I fear you've left me standing
In a world that's so demanding

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun…

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: North Korea’s ICBM Program Makes Me Safer

I genuinely believe that North Korea's ICBM program makes me safer. 

To understand what I mean, consider that I'm speaking, specifically, of me – I don't mean, here, some generic "me." I mean, I am a guy who lives about 20 km from North Korea. On a clear day, I can see North Korea from the top of a nearby hill – and that's not Sarahpalinesque hyperbole, either.

To be clear, North Korea's ICBM program probably makes the world in general a much more dangerous place. But my specific spot in the world becomes notably less dangerous.

Here's why.

You see, this spot, 20 km from the DMZ, and 25 km from the muzzles of North Korean artillery, has always been quite dangerous. For the last 70 years, it's been in the targeting sights of North Korean bomb delivery systems.

This has not changed. But with ICBMs, the North Korean has military has acquired a vast new selection of possible targets. 99% of these targets have greater strategic value, and fewer downsides, than bombing their own relatives in their own front yard. 

What North Korean military planner wouldn't prefer to bomb Guam, or Washington, or even Okinawa or Nome, Alaska, over Ilsan or even Seoul? 

So the chances of bombs suddenly raining down on Ilsan go down, each time they add kilometers to their overall ICBM range. 

That's pretty basic. 

In fact, I feel as if, to the extent that North Korea is able to attack the US directly, South Korea in general becomes safer. Why damage territory you hope to annex, when you can just directly attack that territory's current "protector"?

Now that doesn't mean I'm anything like complacent that I'm completely safe. To the extent that irrational minds (both in Pyeongyang and, increasingly, in Washington) walk down a path toward military confrontation, things get more dangerous, too. There might be an actual war, and if that happens, of course Ilsan is on the front line, so to speak. But the chances that Ilsan will be the "first victim" in some North Korean preemptive attack are fading quickly, and thus the area becomes a spot where "waiting out the war" becomes more plausible, to the extent you can accept that it seems unlikely that the North Koreans would be ultimately able to take any actual South Korean territory. I take that as a given in the current military climate. The North can only be preemptively retributive, if that makes any sense. 

Maybe I'm just being unreasonably blind to military strategy and risks. But this is how I see it.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: Memory; Anticipation; Experience

It is official that I will be traveling to Australia to visit my mother for the first week in September. I have worked out a replacement teacher for my job, and I've bought the airline tickets and the rental car.

Last year, I traveled to the US in November, so, in returning to my pre-cancer pattern, this year is Australia's "turn." 

As is my new base state, I'm not necessarily "excited" by the prospect of travel. I don't seem to derive much pleasure from traveling, as I used to. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to seeing my mom.

Traveling is a bit like eating, maybe. I have so many fond memories of travel, and I have these fantasies and "cravings." With food, due to my loss of taste and swallowing facility from the surgery, I always end up disappointed and frustrated when I actually eat something I remember enjoying once-upon-a-time. Likewise, the actual experience of travel is inevitably disappointing: stressful and tedious. Unlike with eating, however, it's not clear to me how this new progression of events developed.

I'm sure it will be OK, though. 

More later.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

 

 

Caveat: Call your lawyer

We were doing a speaking book task, where there is a "set up" situation, and students have to then explain what they will say in the given situation.

In this particular set up, it described a situation where the student has borrowed a friend's phone, only to drop it and break the screen accidentally.

So the students had to, presumably, say something to the effect of: "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I broke your phone. I feel so terrible. I will buy you a new one… "

Anyway, this is actually a really hard task for these students – the book is a bit too hard for their ability level. They just don't have the fluency or active vocabulary to make this happen smoothly. So to make it easier, I spend a good portion of each class describing the situation, acting it out in detail, writing down possible response fragments.

I try to solicit possible words, ideas, and such from the students. One boy, a bit of a contrarian, likes to imagine being a jerk in such situations. So he said, "I feel happy."

I ran with it.

"Right! What if you don't like your friend?" I brainstormed.

"I feel happy. I broke it, so what?" I wrote on the board. The boy scribbled this down diligently. He knew what his speech would look like, now.

I added some more fragments. "It's your phone, deal with it." I spent some time explaining the expression "deal with it."

One girl, normally completely silent, suggested. "I feel joy."

"Joy?" I said, pleased to see her participating. "Not just happy, but joy? You hate your friend?"

She nodded.

"So then what?" I asked. "What if your friend calls a lawyer?"

I spent about 5 minutes explaining what a lawyer was. I explained the concept of "small claims court" – without trying to introduce the vocabulary. The kids were more or less familiar with the idea – there are cheesy courtroom reality shows in Korea, just like in the US.

Without missing a beat, the normally silent girl said, almost inaudibly but clearly, "OK. Call the lawyer with your broken phone."

I was impressed.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: Recreational Apophenia, U.S. Virgin Islands Edition

Yesterday, I was walking. I saw a coin on the pavement. I thought it was a ₩100 coin (basically about a "dime" in value, but it's quarter-sized). Nobody was around, and it wasn't a busy area. "My lucky day," I thought. You never know when you might need an extra ten cents. I picked it up.

In fact, it was a US quarter. Further, it was one of those commemorative quarters – on the reverse, it said "U.S. Virgin Islands. United in Pride and Hope. 2009." There was an engraving of palm trees and some exotic bird.

Interesting, right? – on a street in suburban Seoul, finding such a thing. It was one of those novelistic moments, where, if there were an author, the author would have had some symbolic purpose for placing such a thing. Thus runs the mental train of a recreational apophenist such as myself.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: FTS RIP

You might be surprised to learn that my toilet seat had a name. I say "had" because it died this morning.

It was a fraught relationship, anyway.

The toilet seat was a bit out of adjustment – perhaps it wasn't quite the right dimensions for the toilet. So the seat part would never quite stay up properly, the way a male has been trained to hope for. Thus it was that my brother, when visiting in 2013, dubbed it, in the most politically incorrect way imaginable, "the Feminist Toilet Seat" – because it always wanted to put the seat down. Hence "FTS."

At some point after he left, however, one day, I was frustrated with how it never stayed up quite right, or would fall down just at the most inopportune moment. I snapped it up more vigorously than it could tolerate, and broke one of the plastic hinge attachments.

This had a good result, however. After that, the seat stayed up just fine. Sitting on the seat, on the other hand, became more complicated. It had a tendency to lurch sideways if my weight wasn't properly centered on it. That could be alarming, as you might imagine. 

So at some point in 2015 I added "toilet seat, 40cm x 36 cm" to my little shopping list that I keep on my phone, where, in my typical gnomic fashion, in fact I called it "toilseat."

For the last 2 years, I didn't buy a new toilet seat. Because although it was a bit annoying, it was always an annoyance that was quite transient. This morning, snapping it up in that way that exploited the broken hinge, however, I broke the other hinge. And thus it died. The FTS traveled quickly to the trash.

I walked over to the Home Plus store and bought a new one for ₩12,900 (eleven bucks – made in Vietnam), and installed it with zero problems. I wonder why I didn't do that sooner? 

[daily log: walking, 3km]

Caveat: let’s celebrate end-of-semester government-mandated close-all-the-hagwon day

I have a little holiday, today. It's the "end-of-semester government-mandated close-all-the-hagwons day."

As I often do when I get days off from work, I find myself being extremely lazy. I guess that's OK, but the consequence is that I don't even have anything interesting to post on this here blog thingy. 

I keep posting just because some people use the blog to see if I'm doing OK. So here I am, doing OK.

More later.

[daily log: walking, 2km]

Caveat: 家和萬事成

picture
I learned this aphorism from the Shamanism Museum on Friday.

가화만사성 (家和萬事成)
ga.hwa.man.sa.seong
home-harmonious-everything-achieve
A happy home can achieve anything.

It was on a sign board on an outside wall (picture at right).
The most notable thing at the museum, to me, was the extreme similarity and parallelism between these shamanistic accouterments and images and those I normally associate with Korean Buddhism. I suppose 1500 years of coexistence has led to extensive syncretism on both sides.
So I took some other pictures at the Shamanism museum.
There were some exhibits.
picture
There were various rooms.
picture
There were token examples of Nepalese and Tibeten shaman costumes, perhaps to justify the name “Museum of Shamanism” as opposed to “Museum of Korean Shamanism.”
picture
There were stylistic pseudo-Chinese decorative objects.
picture
There was a tranquil-looking back room.
picture
The museum’s location is in a newly developed neighborhood of typical Korean highrises, but the building itself is a historical site of some deified ancestor.
picture
[daily log: walking… uh, nope.]

Caveat: subway2

I met my friend Peter this morning at Gupabal (구파발) to go to the shamanism museum (which we tried to visit a few weeks ago but it was closed). This time it was open and we went, though the founder/main proprietor wasn’t there, which I think disappointed Peter a little bit, since he’d met him before and had been impressed by him.
I’ll write more about the museum later, and maybe post some pictures or something, but for now, lacking time, I’ll just comment that afterward, Peter and I decided to have a quick lunch. We went into a Subway sandwich chain shop. These shops are not just ubiquitous in the US, but are becoming increasingly ubiquitous in Korea as well – there’s even one across the street from Karma.
Peter was very surprised when I announced that in fact this was the very first time I had visited a Subway restaurant in Korea. I don’t visit American brand fast food very often in Korea – I’ve only visited McDonalds twice, that I can recall, in the 10 years I’ve been here. It wasn’t habit even before I got the mouth cancer. And now there is even less reason to visit those types of places. It was fine to eat there, though sandwiches are bit challenging to eat for me, being a bit too dry and requiring a lot of tongue-gymnastics to bite off and chew, if you think about it. Not my strong points, these days. But I managed fine – I can manage anything, these days, in fact.
So if visiting a Korean Subway sandwich shop was on my bucket list, it’s taken care of now. After that, Peter went to his work and I went home. On the subway.
picture[daily log: walking, 8.5km]

Caveat: Destiny

Andy is a fifth grader who is in an Honors cohort otherwise made up of sixth graders, because of his high ability. It was a bit problematic placing him there, because he ended up in the same class with his older sister, Julie. I suspect the direct competition isn't helping the younger boy.

Last night, we took a month-end speaking test. Julie scored 99%. Andy, on the other hand, only managed 71%. Their ability levels are similar and normally they score similarly. Andy moaned and made a sad expression. "It is my destiny!" he exclaimed.

"In Karma, it is your destiny," his older sister intoned, with mock seriousness. On the one hand, I think they were imitating the famous Darth Vader line, "It is your destiny." But I realized they both are also probably quite aware that one possible meaning of "Karma" is in fact "destiny" – certainly the fine semantic differences between them is lost, since both words are often translated 운명 [unmyeong] in Korean. I suspect they have a running joke between them. 

[daily log: walking, 7km]

 

Caveat: Latter Day Parking Lots

The Mormon church that has been under construction in my neighborhood is nearing completion – I’ve commented on it before, partly because I’d developed a kind of special feeling or affinity for the vacant lot (so rare in Ilsan) that had previously occupied the space for most of the years I’ve been here.
I guess the architecture is solidly Mormonesque – whatever that is, although I do believe there is, at least, an identifiable (post hoc) Mormon architectural style. What was more depressing was that half of the lot is given over to an at-grade parking lot.
Believe it or not, I’ve contemplated the cultural semiotics of Mormon parking lots before. This may be partly due to having grown up across the street from the local Mormon church, and thus for me, as a child, the concepts of expansive parking lots and Mormonism became deeply intertwined. For me, as a child, the Mormon church’s parking lot was simply the parking lot. It became the archetype of an American sort of over-engineered, low density, space-wasting, parking-in-front approach to parking.
I had imagined that local Korean building codes would preclude the construction of such a parking lot for this church. Apparently, I was naive.
It’s not that Koreans don’t build low density parking lots. It’s that in my experience, if Koreans build an at-grade, open space parking lot (as opposed to a high density parking structure), these constructions seem to be, inevitably, fairly contingent, strictly temporary affairs. If they have a vacant lot, by all means, slap down some asphalt, paint some lines, put up an attendant’s booth, and charge money to park there. These can be found all over Ilsan, in fact, as well as the rest of Seoul. Perhaps that was partly why I was so surprised that the vacant lot where this new church has been built remained simply vacant for so long.
As I said, however, these low-density parking lots are not, normally, viewed as particularly major undertakings, and they lack any feeling of permanence. There are several in Ilsan that are not even properly paved – they’re just gravel. I kind of intuit that the expectation is that eventually the lot will get built with something, with the inevitable multi-level parking structure integrated into the new building.
But these Mormons – they’ve created a parking lot in the boldest of North American, low density, highly engineered traditions. There are little rows of trees, there are elaborate curbs and bays, there is even the modern “permeable parking lot” concept whereby grass can grow between the gaps and water can drain down – thus preventing the loss of so much rainfall for the groundwater. These are all things that seem so utterly American to me, and quite alien to the way Koreans approach parking in my experience.
Not only that, there’s a giant fence completely enclosing it. Most Korean parking lots are quite pedestrian-friendly – I cut across or through both open low-density lots and parking ramps all the time, as I walk from one place to another.
What does it mean that Mormon churches always have such substantial and, more interestingly, prominently visible parking lots? Partly, it’s about the fact of being a wealthy but most definitely minority religion. Their churches thus have to draw from a widely dispersed community, where most members might be coming from quite some distance away. Thus, they all have cars and they all need a place to park. But it’s also a kind of declaration of suburban American values. I can’t say I’m scandalized, but a part of me had expected something different of Mormons in the Korean context. I gather I was mistaken.
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Anyway, I hope they enjoy parking their cars.
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picture[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: 호우경보

Several times a week, it seems, the helpful Korean government authorities send little text message advisories to my phone. Most of these seem to have little relevance to my day-to-day existence: I get warnings about remote bird flu outbreaks or rural landslides or what have you. But I enjoy the opportunity to work out the meanings of these fragments of “found Korean.”
This morning, I received this message:

[국민안전처] 오늘 08시20분 경기(고양,파주) 호우경보, 산사태ㆍ상습침수 등 위험지역 대피, 외출자제 등 안전에 주의바랍니다

Given the stunningly aggressive thunderstorm taking place outside my window, I had a suspicion as to its meaning already. The sky was dark like twilight, there was lightening and pouring rain. Not just more of the same old monsoon, this was hardcore weather.
Sure enough, the message says, roughly:

“[National Safety Service] Today 8:20 AM, Gyeonggi Province (Goyang, Paju) Storm Warning, please evacuate landslide or flood-prone areas and exercise caution when going out.”

I felt pleased with the lack of difficulty I experienced in making sense of this message.
And that’s your Korean for the day. Happy stormy Sunday.
[daily log: walking, maybe not]

Caveat: I can read you like a banana

Today in my "CC" listening class, we were listening to the American pop song "Blank Space," by Taylor Swift. The students' job is to listen to the song (line by line and over and over, if necessary), and fill in a cloze version of the lyrics (i.e. words missing). So we were filling in the blank spaces in the song "Blank Space.

One student, Kevin, when confronted with the line "I can read you like a magazine," decided, confidently, that it was "I can read you like a banana." For whatever reason, I started trying to explain how this might work. I held up an imaginary banana, and pretended to "read" it. I looked at Kevin, and tried to "read" him in the same way. The students understood the absurdity of the interpretation. Anyway, I found it entertaining, as often happens with absurdity.

What I'm listening to right now.

Taylor Swift, "Blank Space."

Lyrics.

Nice to meet you, where you been?
I could show you incredible things
Magic, madness, heaven, sin
Saw you there and I thought
Oh my God, look at that face
You look like my next mistake
Love's a game, wanna play?

New money, suit and tie
I can read you like a magazine
Ain't it funny, rumors fly
And I know you heard about me
So hey, let's be friends
I'm dying to see how this one ends
Grab your passport and my hand
I can make the bad guys good for a weekend

So it's gonna be forever
Or it's gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it's over
If the high was worth the pain
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
'Cause you know I love the players
And you love the game

'Cause we're young and we're reckless
We'll take this way too far
It'll leave you breathless
Or with a nasty scar
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
But I've got a blank space, baby
And I'll write your name

Cherry lips, crystal skies
I could show you incredible things
Stolen kisses, pretty lies
You're the King, baby, I'm your Queen
Find out what you want
Be that girl for a month
Wait, the worst is yet to come, oh no

Screaming, crying, perfect storms
I can make all the tables turn
Rose garden filled with thorns
Keep you second guessing like
"Oh my God, who is she?"
I get drunk on jealousy
But you'll come back each time you leave
'Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

So it's gonna be forever
Or it's gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it's over
If the high was worth the pain
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
'Cause you know I love the players
And you love the game

'Cause we're young and we're reckless
We'll take this way too far
It'll leave you breathless
Or with a nasty scar
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
But I've got a blank space, baby
And I'll write your name

Boys only want love if it's torture
Don't say I didn't say, I didn't warn ya
Boys only want love if it's torture
Don't say I didn't say, I didn't warn ya

So it's gonna be forever
Or it's gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it's over
If the high was worth the pain
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
'Cause you know I love the players
And you love the game

'Cause we're young and we're reckless
We'll take this way too far
It'll leave you breathless
Or with a nasty scar
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
But I've got a blank space, baby
And I'll write your name

[daily log: walking, 5km]

Caveat: Just Zombying Around

It's hard to get motivated when the weather is hot and humid and the air conditioning in my apartment is quite useless.

Therefore I am just kind of zombying around until I can go cool off at work.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: So

I've been facing some challenges with my current curriculum set-up with my middle-schoolers, because the newly re-arranged cohorts of middle school students have a wider diversity of ability levels. Thus, my traditional Speaking/Writing/Listening classes on the TOEFL-prep style don't entirely "work" – the lower ability levels in the classes are frankly not quite able to take on the productive tasks (Speaking and Writing) – at least not in the books I'm currently using. Also, the social feel of several of these classes is altered, with the higher level students resenting the lower level students, and the lower level students feeling intimidated. 

I honestly don't know what to do, but I'm feeling pretty frustrated. I feel like I wasn't really consulted about how the students were re-arranged – if I had been, I would not have opposed the newly diverse groups, but I would have definitely insisted on a changed curriculum – a move away from TOEFL and toward something like my old debate curriculum, perhaps. I suppose I'm going to have to do that, anyway, but with the students having all been provided with the existing curriculum's TOEFL books, there will be parental resentment if those books don't get used. I'm going to have to get creative in how I use those books. I'm having trouble thinking of ideas, at the moment.

So. Life will go on.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Just Pictures

picture

My student who goes by Sandy, in 2nd grade elementary, dislikes speaking English. She's a pleasant and well-focused student, but she seems to suffer a kind of panic attack whenever I ask her to speak directly. Sometimes she cries, or hides under her desk. So I have taken to kind of asking her permission to ask her something. I don't want to stress her out – I want her to see learning English as a positive experience.

We are doing a roleplay based on the Jack and the Beanstalk story. We were playing a kind of game yesterday, and Sandy, between participating (sort of) in the game, used her "Hello Kitty" stationery to convey to me, without words, her own interpretation of substantial parts of the story. I thought it was quite interesting, as it gave me some insight into her intelligence despite her shyness about participating.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: Intentionally Boring Teacher

I've really been struggling with a certain class, known as HS1-T. It's making me feel like I'm a bad teacher.

The reconfigured cohorts of the new term which started with July has joined together a group of kids that seems to have led to some bad chemistry. The changes are subtle, and really it boils down to me feeling disappointed with the emerging lack of motivation of otherwise talented students. I realize I don't see the whole picture – these kids have their lives, and things going on, and who knows why a given kid or group of kids decide that working hard at learning English is not a thing they want to focus on anymore.

Nevertheless, I wonder what I could or should be doing differently. I have my insecurities, too. So I spend more time dwelling on this problem than I should, and without any clear resolution.

Last night, I faced the five students – arguably among them are several of the most talented students at Karma in absolute terms. None of them had done homework. I pushed down my anger and tried to shrug it off, saying only that they were harming themselves. Being the "angry" teacher doesn't achieve anything – I tried that last week to horrendous effect. Anyway, I refuse to become the constantly haranguing, nagging creature some of my colleagues devolve into. But being the happy-go-lucky "fun" teacher hasn't been working either. I'm at a loss.

Last night I tried to be "boring teacher" – mostly due to lack of ideas, but I suppose I saw it as a kind of punishment I was imposing on them. It was boring and depressing.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: NATO Chinese Fighter Jets

My selection of ideas for blog posts remains slim. 

Here is a bit of bizarre geopolitical trivia: Which NATO air force has mostly Chinese Aircraft? Albania.

Geopolitical winds can shift – sometimes in surprising ways.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: Moonshine

I have been wondering, since the election of Moon Jae-in in May, if the new president would attempt to resurrect the "Sunshine Policy" toward North Korea. Given the changed political context, both with a less sympathetic international regime (i.e. populism and resurgent nationalism in various countries) and with the North's nuclear and ICBM efforts, I don't quite see how this would work.

His recent speech given while in Germany is short on details (of course), but it does seem to outline a return to his party's roots as established by Kim Dae-jung and Roh Moo-hyun from 1998-2008. The one major policy aspect I most question is his focus on reunification. I should think that emphasizing reunification – especially on the German model – would be more likely to annoy the North than encourage it. It's not like the German reunification played out as if between equals. But I suppose Moon was sincerely trying to adapt his message to his audience, in this case, and reflecting that post-Soviet 1990s moment that was undoubtedly formative for him, personally.

[daily log: walking, 11km]

Caveat: Hot. Tired.

With the start of July, we have a new class schedule, mostly new books, new groupings of students. It's a lot of work, always, to find the new routine, and this time it seems tougher than usual, because I have a lot of back-to-back classes, especially on Monday-Wednesday-Friday. I'm feeling really exhausted. I guess the high heat and humidity of summer isn't helping – the supposed monsoon that started last weekend was a kind of false start, apparently, as it has been hazy-sunny and just plain sweltering the last few days. I hope the rain in earnest comes soon.

I don't have anything stockpiled for posting on this blog – I let my list of ideas dwindle down to nothing. I will have to work on that, but I just haven't been motivated. Therefore I present this more banal than usual post. 

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Not so self-centered

Curt found Jae-il wandering around the halls at Karma during class time. He demanded, "Why aren't you in class? Who is your teacher?"

Jae-il, somewhat surprised, but with his typical aplomb, said, "You're my teacher. You weren't there. So I came out."

In fact, it turned out that Curt had been so busy with his duties related to being the hagwon director that he'd forgotten that he was scheduled to be teaching the class.


Unrelatedly… you know why I love donuts? They’re not self-centered.

[daily log: walking: 7km]

Caveat: 4 Years Cancer Free

Today is the fourth anniversary of my cancer surgery and second (third? fourth?) lease on life.

Coincidentally, my CT-scan and inspection checkup was scheduled for this morning, so that was appropriate. The diagnosis came back clear – Dr Cho found nothing on the fancy 3D Xrays they make. I hate the way the contrast medium makes me feel – it's like a kind of burning up from the inside, like everything is about to fly apart. But I lie still and bear with it, while they run the machine. It doesn't help that I have to fast the night before. 

So here I am.

Happy Amdependence Day ("am" [암] is Korean for cancer, and today is July 4th – US Independence Day).

[daily log: walking, 11.5km]

Caveat: The museum was closed

Yesterday I went to Seoul to see my friend Peter. We had some lunch, and then ended up deciding to try to go to a "Shamanism Museum" that Peter had told me about before, and which interests me. It wasn't that far – it would have been 3 stops on the subway, but we decided to walk, which was 2-3 km. We skirted the southwestern edge of Bukhansan, the big mountain and park area that rises north of central Seoul, paralleling the line 3 subway, which is the one that comes out to Ilsan, too. It's pretty familiar territory.

We found the museum without difficulty, but it was closed. It seems to keep limited hours, a few weekday mornings only. So. 

We talked a lot, anyway, and it was a nice enough walk, as the clouds loomed and the monsoon was about to start. The rain started last night.

Here is a picture of the museum – it's in a very posh neighborhood of rather new high rise apartments.

picture

Here is a nice-looking gazebo amid some trees and greenery nearby. It's nothing old, but it's built in an old style and is quite pleasant.

picture

Maybe I'll try to go back, sometime, when it's open. Then I'd have more to write about.

[daily log: walking, 1.5km]  

Caveat: Who is Jared?

Yeo-eun has been my student for more than 6 months. I think more like approaching a year, now. 

We were preparing a debate scheme last night. Because it is a very small class, I had allowed all the students to form a single team, and I would "be" the other team, by myself. I wrote out the debate scheme on the whiteboard, and beside my CON team speeches, I wrote my name. 

With utter sincerity, Yeo-eun asked, "Teacher! Who is Jared?"

The other students laughed.

"You don't know?"

She shook her head, clearly having no clue.

We've even had extensive in-class discussions about my name, and about cultural differences in the way students address their teachers or other adults. I have explained that in fact, from my casual American perspective, addressing me as "Teacher!" is less polite than, say, using my name. Some students even have sometimes tried out the awkward "Mr Way." But the use of "Teacher!" to address one's teacher is culturally in-grained: it's just a simple direct translation of "선생님" [seon-saeng-nim], which is completely universal. Many students never bother to learn their teachers' names, as they're not allowed, culturally, to use them.

Yeo-eun had decided knowing my name was unimportant information, and had purged it from her brain.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Time’s Weight

This week is the 17th anniversary of my wife Michelle's suicide.

And work is feeling burdensome.

And next week is a hospital visit for a full inspection, as my 4th anniversary of cancer surgery.

I have a young student who has decided that my name is grandpa. I can't seem to discourage this habit. It's distressing.

Time feels heavy.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: I am not immune

Apparently, I am not completely immune to that internet thing known, collectively, as cat videos.

This cat's behavior is interesting. How much of this is training, and how much of this is its own cleverness?

[daily log: walking, 8km]

 

Caveat: The content is nothing

I've been a bit under the weather, I guess. Actually, it's possibly just the outcome of some work-related stress, on issues I'm not really comfortable trying to summarize right now. I'll get around to it at some point. Meanwhile, I feel kind of lousy and plan to do as little as possible this weekend… or even less. 

What I'm listening to right now.

Haujobb, "Dead Market."

Lyrics.

Contact and rupture
Unlike a pulse
Law of repetition
We will always follow

Identity is safe
The content is nothing
Deconstruction of form
We will always follow

Manipulate the pulse, the pattern, the rhythm
Dominate the beat
Manipulate the pulse, the pattern, the beat
Dominate the world

Desire remains
Discharge of pleasure
Absence of contact
We will always follow

Manipulate the pulse, the pattern, the rhythm
Dominate the beat
Manipulate the pulse, the pattern, the beat
Dominate the world

[daily log: walking, 7km]

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