Today we had the semi-annual speech contest. I was there as a “judge,” and a coach for some of my students, and also “emcee” for the second round. Jeez… talk about conflicts of interest.
I managed to compartmentalize, and hopefully I was as objective as possible in my judging. I was feeling shafted when one of my hero students, Jessica, didn’t make it to the second round, as I thought she’d done amazingly well, but then I learned that she had in fact placed second out of everyone in the first round, but that her mother had withdrawn her. Hmm… the motives of parents are indeed obscure, at times. Sarah-teacher reported to me that Jessica was in tears over having to leave without a prize despite her excellent performance. I felt bad for her, but better that at least in this instance, it wasn’t hellbridge who was being a collective jerk.
I was proud of Willy (who I quoted just yesterday). And little Dahye didn’t do badly, though didn’t advance to the second round. There was a bittersweet moment, because I’ve been trying really hard to help Dahye feel sufficiently confident to stand up in front of adults and peers and give a speech: she’s a tiny 8 year old with near-perfect English, but is terribly shy. But I heard she did pretty well… I wasn’t there because I was judging a different group. After the first round, waiting for the announcement of the 20 students who would advance to the second round, she ran up to me and declared, “it’s like a prison in there!” She was referring to the “waiting room” that her group of kids was in. And she grabbed my hand and held on. And at that moment, two 6th graders, Sydney and Eunice came up, and said, “Oh, teacher… is that your daughter?” I think they were joking, but it was very sweet: Dahye just grinned up at me with big eyes.
After the contest was finally over, the prizes given out, the parents herded out, teachers and staff and “guests” (corporate types from hellbridge corporation) went out for a late lunch. And as is my custom, when the soju (Korean rice vodka) started flowing, I demurred, “술 안마셔요” (sul an-masheoyo = I don’t drink alcohol). They were so impressed with this bit of Korean, but they were of course dumbfounded at my rejection of alcohol — foreigners in Korea have a reputation for being heavy drinkers. It isn’t really true that I don’t drink… but Koreans are so hardcore about drinking that I find it easier to simply pretend I don’t do alcohol when socializing with them, as I’ve never been one to hold my liquor well.
Category: Life in Korea
Caveat: Among the redwoods in Ilsan
Redwoods in Ilsan? Well, I’m pretty sure. They’re not Sequoia sempervirens… I believe they’re Metasequoia glyptostroboides, Chinese “dawn redwoods.” They’re quite common as ornamentals throughout the temperate climes, now, because they are hardy and grow fast. Here in Korea, they’re not actually that far from home — I think their native area is within 500 km or so.
Unlike California’s sequoias, they’re deciduous — they get naked for the winter. But they have very redwoody bark, and the needles are strikingly similar. See the picture I took, at right.
I walked down to the lake park, and took this picture, below, of the arranged rocks in the frozen lake, with the bridge in the distance over the lake. It seemed beautiful.
Caveat: шоколад, хлеб и борщ в Сеуле
It’s now been 20 years since I studied Russian in college. And unlike some other things I’ve studied, I’ve not made much use of it. At the time, I was quite good at it. I completed a year of college Russian and got one of the highest grades on the end-of-year final that the department had recorded for a first year student — high enough that I remember being contacted by a CIA recruiter (remember that 20 years ago, the cold war had not yet ended). I was flattered but uninterested at the time. Imagine if I’d pursued that? How different would my life have been?
Anyway, I was with Basil today, we went to a bookstore and then we went out for Russian food at a restaurant in the Russian neighborhead near 동대문 (dongdaemun). After having some pretty good borscht and kebabs, we went into a tiny Russian cafe (picture at right) where we drank some kefir and I bought a loaf of dark Russian bread. And then in a Russian supermarket I bought some Russian chocolate (for the novelty, of course).
I was stunned to realize that I was interacting with the Korean-Russian lady behind the counter in Korean, much more comfortably than if I’d been forced to use Russian. And it felt like a weird sort of linguistic milestone, to be in Seoul’s Russiatown interacting in Korean… it means Korean has passed Russian in terms of my linguistc comfort and competence. That’s not really saying a lot, of course. The Russian is very very rusty. But it felt good, in a very weird way.
The title says шоколад, хлеб и борщ в Сеуле (“chocolate, bread and borscht in Seoul”). I ate the borsht in the restaurant, but here below is a pic of the bread and chocolate I brought home with me.
Caveat: Apples and Socks
It's lunar new year, this weekend. The hagwon got gift boxes of apples (presumeably those high-quality greenhouse-grown apples so popular here in the winter — I rather doubt they're imports from warmer climes) for all the staff. I guess that's better than the gift boxes of Spam we got for Chuseok (Korean thanksgiving, back in September). And one of my students gave me a gift box of socks, yesterday. Yes, socks. This is not the first time I've received a gift of socks from a student. I think it must be a custom, of sorts. In any event, it's probably right up there on my list of convenient job-perks. I mean, which is really more useful, when you get down to what's really important in life: stock options or sock options? I'll opt for socks. ㅋㅋㅋ ^_^
Caveat: Space Station Ilsan
Because my working hours are roughly 1pm to 11 pm, my sleeping schedule seems to get easily messed up. I'll stay up late, and sleep in late, and it will progress until I'm falling out of bed just in time to make it to work, after going to sleep at 5 in the morning. It's frustrating, because I always feel more productive in the mornings, but I'm happier in the evenings. So there's trade off.
Weekends get weird, because I end up sort of missing the day. I'll have a lazy "morning" that stretches from like noon until 4 pm. And then if I decide to go out, that's when my weekend "day" starts – at around sunset. That would be great if I liked going to clubs or bars, but I don't do that. So… and museums are always closed by the time I manage to get motivated to go near one.
Living in this intensely urban environment, and rarely being out during daylight, it starts to seem like I'm living inside a giant space station. Which is cool. But disorienting.
Caveat: Bukhansan in the background
Another picture I took on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, from the Jichuk-yeok platform.
Wacky quote of the day: “vandalism is Australian for progress.” – Jon Stewart
Caveat: Symbols
What does it mean that a mostly Buddhist and Christian nation lives nationalistically under a flag composed of Taoist and Confucian/Pagan symbols?
The giant flag at Juyeop plaza, one subway stop west of my “home” station at Jeongbalsan, and a short 7 minute walk from my place of work. I took the picture after leaving work early on New Year’s Eve. The day was bright, windy, and very, very cold. Maybe around 15 F (-10 C).
Caveat: “헨젤과 그레텔” 영화를 촣아헸어요
I watched a really good movie yesterday. A 2007 Korean release, titled 헨젤과 그레텔 (hen-jel-gwa geu-re-tel = Hansel and Gretel) is considered a horror film in genre terms, but it’s really a bit more (and less) than that.
Most of the amateur reviews of the movie (written in English, anyway) that I saw online seemed to harbor a fundamental misunderstanding of the film, stating either overtly or implicitly that it was an unfaithful adaptation of the fairy tale “Hansel and Gretel.”
The fact is, it’s not an adaptation at all. Rather, the fairy tale “Hansel and Gretel” might best be viewed as a protagonist (or antagonist) of the film. The film doesn’t tell the story “Hansel and Gretel” but instead tells a story about the story “Hansel and Gretel.” That makes it a sort of metafairytale. And everyone knows how I love all things meta. It’s not a reading of that story, but a completely new narrative about the reception of the text, in a postwar Korean cultural context.
I’ll leave plot summaries and all that to others. See imdb, for example. But I enjoyed the movie partly because it had me constantly wondering about to what extent the dreamlike (nightmarelike) events of the film could be read as a metaphor for some aspects of Korea’s relationship to the West and to its own history.
As an example, consider the fact that the physical book “Hansel and Gretel,” that wreaks such psychic havoc in the film, is brought to the children by a very western Santa Claus (santa haraboji) in the 1960’s, the era of the quasi-fascist westernizing dictatorship. He is clearly, in fact, just a Korean in a Santa suit. And decades later, the children, psychically wounded beyond belief when young (by the Korean War? by the dictatorship?) are living in a sort of self-regenerating fantasyland of material plenty and affective vacuum. “Adults” come and go, but the kids simply can’t move on.
These are just some notes, not meant to be pat answers or allegorical readings of the movie. And there are some things I don’t like about it – I’d have preferred, personally, if the causative links between their childhood abuse and current situation (established with flashbacks) had retained more of the antirationalist (surreal) character of the first half of the film. But perhaps that serves an important purpose, too.
Overall, it’s a coherent movie, perhaps a bit pat, psychologically, but full of the sort of small, spine-shuddering moments that good “scary movies” require but with very little gratuitous gore or meaningless jacks-in-the-boxes. The actors are amazing, especially the kids, and also that creepy born-again serial killer. Alleged serial killer, that is… he never gets to kill any serial in the movie – don’t worry, it’s not a slasher show. Although… several adults do die, including the nasty abusing guy that gets shoved in the oven, and several dysfunctional mother-figures. And what’s that about, anyway?
The cinematography is spectacular. All kinds of inanimate things become full participating characters: the forest, the house, the book, food, a television set. Like some novel full of oversignifiers by Gombrowicz.
Caveat: 새해복많이 받으세요
My student Eunice sent me a text message sometime after midnight last night (above). Roughly, it means “Happy New Year,” of course. Don’t my students have anything better to do? Hah… no, seriously, it was nice of her to do that, I guess. I haven’t had a very productive day today, though.
The random picture shows sunset in Gangnam.
Caveat: Alien Nation
I went to my work Xmas party this afternoon/evening. I felt very alienated and lonely, there. Frustrated with my linguistic inabilities. Isolated because I simply don't have a basis to relate to my coworkers.
Actually, I've been feeling alienated a lot, lately. I'm very conscious of being "older," here. More than I have been. Korea is a very ageist society, in some ways, and the majority of my coworkers are clearly unsure what to make of my being an "older" person without a clearly wrought space in the complex social hierarchies here. It's perhaps easier to be a younger foreigner in Korea, because youth in general have more freedom in some ways to behave as they wish, and are more forgiven for failing to meet social expectations. Perhaps.
Then again, as I sat watching the very alien proceedings of the Xmas party, I reflected that I'd likely have felt almost equally alone and isolated and alienated in a work-related holiday function if it were in the U.S. Or anywhere. So the fact that I'm here is no excuse. In general, the fact that I'm here (here in Korea… here at hellbridge working…) offers no real justification for my feelings. These are endogenous, right?
I've always been an alien.
Yesterday I got very lazy and decadent. I'd downloaded some movies. I watched Apocalypse Now Redux (the 2000 re-cut of the 1979 movie). Then, just to make sure I got plenty of perspective on the whole Southeast Asian nightmare, I watched The Killing Fields.
Both profoundly uplifting fare. In compensation, I also watched a few more episodes of 옥탑방고양이 (rooftop cat), although I must say that although I enjoy the show, I've decided the theme music that they play is incredibly annoying. I actually will watch it with the sound turned off when they play that theme music (no big deal, since I mostly rely on subtitles anyhow).
Then I took a long walk, in the wintery.
Sigh.
Caveat: 금연구역
The words on the small sign at the top are: 금연구역 = geum-yeon-gu-yeok = no smoking area. The picture is of my friend Curt at the noraebang last weekend, smoking under the sign that says “no smoking area.” This is a fairly typical Korean approach to things. I hardly intend any criticism by it – it’s just the way things are.
One thing that’s always puzzled me, is that in Korea, pedestrians meticulously obey traffic signals, but cars blatantly disregard them, whereas in the U.S., it’s the opposite, if anything: cars meticulously follow traffic signals, whereas pedestrians do as they please. I have been trying to figure this out, and walking to work today, I had a thought. It may or may not be accurate, but I was wondering if the difference has to do with “what’s transparent” and in front of whom it might be “transparent.”
In the U.S., drivers obey traffic laws because they are transparent in front of the authorities (i.e., the government), via their license plates. Meanwhile, pedestrians are anonymous with respect to the authorities, and therefore feel free to do as they please. In Korea, the behavior is the opposite because what matters isn’t what the authorities think (who cares what the authorities think?), but rather, what your neighbors looking at you might think: when you stand on the street corner, your neighbors can see you, but sitting in your car, you’re anonymous to your neighbors, and therefore you feel free to blatantly disregard society’s rules.
This line of reasoning doesn’t explain Curt in the noraebang, except that there, “that sort of rule” is irrelevant, maybe?
Caveat: Solving Yesterday’s Problems, Today
I remain subscribed to certain SQL-Server programming e-newsletters and suchlike. Most of the time, I have no idea why. I never look at them. But today… I saw something that made me think, “gee, I wish I’d known how to do that, back then!” The idea of automating Excel from inside a SQL-Server stored procedure. Oh well… is late knowledge better than never knowing? I’m not sure it is. Then again, it could be that this sort of thing wasn’t really possible, back when I made the hacks that pulled this off (in 2002-2004). Advances in the technology and the platform, and all that. Meanwhile… as far as I know, those hacks are still an active part of keeping the National Accounts department at Paradise Corp in business.
The picture is entirely random and unrelated. Cup Ramyeon, anyone?
Caveat: 폭탄꼬치 redux
I like to buy 폭탄꼬치 as I leave work. The super-amazing-killer spiciness makes me happy, I think.
I’ve actually heard that capsaicin might have antidepressant properties. Maybe it’s true?
Caveat: 도둑고양이 및 컵라면
I think watching old Korean TV dramedies is good for me. It helps me build my confidence with Korean – if not actually doing much to improve my proficiency, probably. I learn to recognize little bits of conversational Korean, and pick up intriguing bits of vocabulary. Plus, they’re mindlessly entertaining and occasionally quite funny, and provide good cultural insights too, keeping me positively engaged in the culture, in a way that working at hellbridge certainly fails me.
They’re probably a better way to kill time than to sit around feeling gloomy or depressed about my work, due to how overwhelming it feels. Or beating myself up over not actually spending time studying Korean intensively with all those Korean textbooks I’ve bought.
Anyway, the series I’m watching right now (옥탑방 고양이= oktappang goyangi =”Rooftop-room Cat”) is nothing spectacular. I downloaded it originally based strictly on the cute name – I like cats and I like the Korean word for cat (고양이, besides which I live in the near-homonymous city 고양).
So I went off looking for the script because there was a word I wanted to figure out, and learned that the lead actress is one of the seemingly many Korean pop-culture types that have committed suicide in the last several years. There seems to be an epidemic of it, at least based on how people talk about it. It’s kind of sad.
On the website about the series, I saw the following notice: “故 정다빈양의 명복을 빕니다.” It was strikingly somber, in black and white, unlike the garish colors normally employed on Korean websites. And it had a hanja (故). Hanja is the use of Chinese characters in Korean writing, which is quite rare except in higher-register news articles, and it clearly wasn’t a name, since it was directly followed by the name of the actress (정다빈). That made me think, too, that the content was more “formal” than is normally found on Korean entertainment websites. So I intuited it’s meaning, and went off a-googling.
And sure enough, imdb told me she had committed suicide. The language of the notice is roughly, “lamented Jeong Da Bin -[some kind of ending, genitive?] pray for the repose of the deceased (i.e. RIP).”
I never found the script. MBC (the network that made the series) doesn’t make the scripts easy to find, at least for someone with limited Korean language proficiency like myself. That’s why I like KBC shows better — their website makes it easy to see the scripts of the old shows. But I figured out the phrase I was wondering about, anyway, by playing it over a few times and typing what I heard into naver’s online dictionary: 도둑고양이= dodukgoyangi =”burglar-cat” i.e. stray cat.
The other thing that I caught was the term 컵라면(= keopramyeon =”Cup Ramen”). Instant ramen noodles in little cups (just add hot water) are endemic, here. And there’s nothing novel about the term. What I noticed for the first time was the pronunciation of the term in rapid speech. Despite being a hybrid of English (컵 keop cup) and Japanese (라면 ramyeon ramen) borrowings, it still undergoes the very native allophonic convergence at the intersection of the first and second syllables, so that it is pronounced not /keop-ra-myeon/ but rather /keom-na-myeon/. The terminal /p/ and inital /r/ shift to nasal versions, but retain their points of articulation. It’s entirely regular in Korean, but as can be seen, it makes recognizing borrowings from other languages a bit difficult in spoken form. Now, there’s a sort of coolness only a truly geeky linguist-type could appreciate.
Caveat: Stab it with your kkochistick
I was walking home with Basil and we were going to stop and buy some chicken-on-a-stick (kkochi), and I saw this decimated kkochistick, with its tiny napkin-banner blowing in the wind, stuck into a tree like the spear of some insane tribesman, leaving a warning to unwary travelers.
I took a picture with my cellphone.
Today was “first snow,” although there wasn’t much… and it kept turning back to rain, so of course nothing stuck. It sure is beautiful, invigorating weather, though. I really love it.
Koreans view “first snow” as a significant event. The kids celebrate it with excitement, and one of our coworkers ran out and bought treats for everyone. I think it’s a fabulous tradition.
I came home and had some rice with spicy instant soup for dinner, and made some ginger tea.
I’ve been thinking about respect.
In the West, respect is something that’s earned. And it can be easily lost.
In the East, I think, respect is something each person is due based on his or her position in the social hierarchy (basically matters of age and, in employment, the chain-of-command). Thus, no one can “lose” respect, ever. Perhaps it could be summed up with a phrase such as, “I have been utterly shamed [or hurt, wounded, etc.] by you, but I still must respect you.”
I think that misunderstandings of how respect works differently may be one of the main causes of disillusionment on the part of Westerners working in Korea, and may be one of the main reasons why Korean bosses view Western employees as impudent, rude, or downright lazy, too. I have never seen my boss more confused and at a loss as when I was trying to explain to him the idea of “earned respect.” And he’s someone who has, in fact, spent time in the U.S. How must it be for Koreans who have never had that experience?
Caveat: My Korean Childhood
I sat and watched Brandon being disciplined by Pi Seon-u (our principal). I felt dirty, watching it. I always do. It's not really that bad, I tell myself. It's the way things are done here. Mr Pi makes Brandon hold a ream of photocopy paper on his hands, outstretched.
What I'm seeing is identical to the sorts of hazing exercises that were so common in basic training, in the US Army. You hold out your arms, palms downward, straight in front of you. Your M16 sits on top. It's not really that heavy, you tell yourself. And it's not. But holding it there for more than half a minute or so is incredibly difficult. Try it sometime. It takes discipline, and it hurts the outstretched muscles in the arms and in the back of your hands.
Brandon holds it. Drops it. Picks it up and holds it again. Mr Pi lectures him in soft tones. I don't understand what's being said, but it's easy to imagine. Behave. Self-discipline. Don't disappoint. Work hard. What would your parents think? Do you want to end up a failure?
Brandon is such an intelligent and bright-spirited boy. A fifth-grader, I think… he was at LinguaForum, before coming to Hellbridge. But he's the kind of boy that gives the term "bouncing off the walls" literal resonance. In the US, he would be labeled ADHD and would be strung out on ritalin. Anyway… it's easy for me to imagine what he might have done to antagonize his teacher – I sent him out of my classroom more than once, myself, back when I had him at LF.
And I wonder. Is it possible to learn discipline, for me, at this late age in life? I had a singularly undisciplined childhood, and despite that, I still play the same sorts of lecture scripts in my head. Not that they're successful. Not that they impart any kind of self-discipline. But they're there.
Can I, now, learn discipline? I feel guilty that I don't have it, when I watch someone like Brandon being disciplined. Disciplined.
Discipline.
Can I look at it from a Foucauldian perspective, theoretically, and still continue to believe that it has value for the individual? Can I see the cruelty of it, with children, and still believe that it could have value, for me? It seems so.
I think it might be the case that I'm sticking it out at Hellbridge because of this burning quest for discipline. Those piles of papers to correct… they impart discipline. I've enrolled myself in a new sort of psychic boot camp.
Discipline.
Korean culture approaches almost all collective cultural pursuits (schooling, work, even social gatherings) in a way that Americans reserve for boot camp: social spaces provide a means to impart the collective discipline on the individual. And the individual is there to soak it up.
Falling down is common. And the response is supposed to be: pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and soldier on. Push hard, fail hard, push some more.
Not everyone picks up and soldiers on. And the shame of failing… of not picking up… is excruciating for the individual. The suicide rate is very high in Korea, especially among students. A 10-year-old boy was in the news, recently; he committed suicide over academic pressures. A 10-year-old! Kids like Brandon.
Koreans shake their heads, feeling sadness and sympathy. Even empathy, I'm sure. But they never question the basic premise: the failure belongs to the individual, the success, to the collective. Not one Korean whom I overheard discussing it thought to question if the boy's parents might not have been doing a perfectly adequate job, in placing such pressures on him, or thought to wonder if the academic system here bears some responsibility.
If Brandon turns up dead tomorrow, what will people say? What will they believe? What will I feel?Would I be complicit, because I've watched Mr Pi disciplining him from the corner of my eye, with a disturbing mixture of distaste and envy? Yes, envy: that I had such strength of spirit. To fall down, pick up, and soldier on.
Discipline.
Caveat: 행복하길바래
I keep trying to learn songs I don’t particularly like. It doesn’t progress well.
Here is a youtube of a popular song I genuinely like a lot. But there’s no way I can imagine singing it… it’s very operatic in its original presentation, not the sort of thing suited by my untrained and lousy singing voice. But I’m working on the lyrics simply because it’s on heavy rotation on my MP3 player, so I like to try to follow along.
The singer, 임형주, is what’s called a “popera star.” So I assume the style is Korean popera. Which is sort of what it sounds like. I’m not sure if it’s really a seperate genre. I found the song attached to a drama I watched.
Here are the lyrics, with translation, that I fished off the interwebs.
Title: 행복하길 바래
Singer: 임형주
그 눈속에서 너는 또 다른 곳을 보며 울었어..
그러는 니가 너무 미워서 나도 따라 울었어..
그리워 난 니가 너무 찢기도록 나 아파도
나 죽어서도 내 사랑으로 너 행복하길 바래..
힘이들어 돌아보면 나 거기에 늘 있는걸
그 곳에다 남겨두고 온 니 눈물 때문에..
나 떠난 자리에 너 혼자 둘수 없어..
있었던게.. 이제는 널 너무 사랑해..
갈수 없는 이율 댔어..
그리워 난 니가 너무 찢기도록 나 아파도..
나 죽어서도 내 사랑으로 너 행복하길 바래..
너 행복하길 바래.. 행복하길 바래..
Translation:
You turn your head and crying
I hate you being like this, that’s why I’m crying too
I’m missing you, missing you so much that I’m hurt
Hope you’ll be happy with my love even if I’m dead
Haaa…..
Turn your head if you’re tired, I’ll be there
Because I left your tears behind
I left you first because I don’t want to see you alone…
Since now I can’t love you anymore
I’m missing you so much that I’m hurt
I hope you’ll be happy with my love even if I’m dead
I Hope you’ll be happy….hope you’ll be happy
Caveat: Minor Chords
Sometimes I log into Second Life and mindlessly drift around. It’s a virtual universe, often mistakenly called a “game” but in fact more like a shopping mall for everyone’s id–there’s no plot, no objective, no theme. Just everyone’s craziness touching up against one another, kind of like in real life, but without the social risk, maybe.
I’ve adopted a “skeleton” avatar. See picture. I go to virtual nightclubs and learn about new Industrial / Gothic music, which perhaps appeals to me because of the predominance of minor chords. My skeleton dances to the music. See picture. Sometimes I take note of music I like, and go searching for it in a torrent (the latest way to download things for free, basically). I’ve found a new band I like, with the stunningly fabulous name of Apoptygma Berzerk. I’m stuck on a song called “Kathy’s Song.” I’ve embedded a youtube of it, below.
A lot of gothic/industrial stuff is European–especially German and Nordic. One group I rather like is Cephalgy, and their song “Hass Mich” (I couldn’t find a youtube of it). I’ve never quite puzzled out the relationship between Goth/House music and German culture, though I suppose the overlap is related to the Weltschmerz they share. Then again, I’ve got my own dukkha going, at the moment. The Koreans call it 고 (苦).
Then you hear something old, like Joy Division’s “Love will tear us apart.”
I’m hating work, but I really feel that quitting short of contract would leave me feeling more depressed than just putting up with it. I don’t deal well with feelings of failure. The weather has turned deliciously cool and fall-like. Leaves are turning color and swimming around in clear air. The clouds are no longer hazy, but fractally bounded complex objects adrift in simpsonian skies. So, at least walking to work is pleasant.
I’m gaining weight–probably related to how cortisol (stress hormone) alters my metabolism, as I’ve not changed my eating habits at all.
My stock portfolio is now officially down more than 50%. Yay capitalism!
The Korean won is now down 50% relative to where it was when I came here. Yay capitalism!
Caveat: Benito Juárez en Seul (y ¡que pasen feliz 開天節!)
Have a happy 개천절! Here’s a statue of Benito Juarez (the “Abraham Lincoln” of Mexico) that I found on a side street in Seoul. Odd. But interesting.
Caveat: the sky opened up…
… and something happened. I don't quite understand what it was that happened. But it's a holiday tomorrow, because of it. Sky-opening-up day. Yay.
Caveat: Costco
Basil (my neighbor and coworker) and I went to Costco today. I bought green olives (expensive to find in other stores) and some bulk dried fruits and a giant brick of American-style cheddar cheese.
Otherwise I had a profoundly unproductive day, except that my television died. I turned it on, it went buzz-buzz-buzz-swack! and the screen went shiny and then dimmed. I think the cathode ray gun inside the tube gave up the ghost. So… it wasn't really good for me to own a television, anyhow, right? It had been a freebie I inherited from my predecessor at Tomorrow School.
Caveat: Day 366
Today is day 366 of my stay in Korea. My one-year anniversary. First day back at work, after my one week vacation. And everything was utter chaos at work, it being the first day of the new fall term. I didn't end up feeling very positive about things… it was a depressing and difficult day. I will have to try to calm down about it, and work out how to cope with some of the crap in a better way.
Caveat: 120 Essays
I’m off for a week, now. I fly to Australia tomorrow. I have about 120 student essays to correct–which gives me something to do on the plane journey, I guess.
It rained most of the day today, and it was cooler… It was nice. After work got out, I had dinner with Curt and we talked about his plans for his academy that he’s trying to build. I hope he is successful… I felt a bit badly about having rejected his offer for ElBeuRitJi’s, especially with those essays weighing down my backpack. But… that’s life, right?
Curt spent some time talking about 정 (jeong), about how it was a Korean concept that had no direct parallel in English. It definitely seems to have a lot of possible translations: naver.com’s online dictionary says “feeling, emotion, sentiment, love, affection, passion, human nature, sympathy, compassion, heart” among other things. But I don’t think it’s that inaccessible a concept. Curt feels strongly that Westerners are too dominated by practical and excessively rationalist tendencies, while Koreans are guided by emotion. I don’t think this is true, but I have a heard time trying to argue with him about it, so I tend to just nod and reflect on what he’s saying. I guess I’m always more interested in what people of different cultures and backgrounds have in common than what separates them, so I’m always seeking commonalities, maybe.
Below is a picture of the shiny metallic-looking Jeongbalsan police station tower, as seen (through some other buildings) from a parking lot a block west of my apartment building. It looks a bit like a grounded rocket ship from a 1930’s-era movie.
-other Notes for Korean-
In other notes: 뜻이 있는 곳에 길이 있다=”where there’s a will there’s a way”
뜻=aim, intention
Caveat: 드르르
My current favorite Korean word is 드르르 (government romanization deureureu, IPA /tɯɾɯɾɯ/). Although I’m not quite sure how to use it smoothly. Er… that’s what it means: “smoothly, swimmingly.” Something like that. I love the sound of it. The way it sounds like you’re beginning to hum some great musical trope or something. Duh-ruh-ruh.
I went to KINTEX this morning. KINTEX is a giant convention center, but every Wednesday the Uijeongbu area Immigration office (which handles the northern half of Gyeonggi province) sets up a help desk for all the foreigners in the Ilsan area, so they don’t have to trek to Uijeongbu to get their paperwork dealt with (40 minutes in on one subway line, then 40 minutes out on another is the most plausible way to make the trip, I would guess).
I got the reentry visa and paperwork worked out for my trip to Australia next week (leaving this Saturday). The matter went smoothly. There: 드르르 진행되었어요. I used it!
That date has crept up very fast. Of course, with my last-minute negotiations over the contract renewal and all, I actually only bought the tickets last week. So not that fast, really. It’s ending up being a last-minute thing all around.
I took the taxi to KINTEX–it’s less than 3 bucks, so no big deal. Then I decided to walk home. The sky was deep cerulean. The weather’s been hot, still, but much less humid, and so there’s not much haze in the air, especially with a nice morning breeze blowing. There were huge puffy lumps of cobalt and chalk cruising the skies randomly, looking for something to rain on. I zig-zagged through the narrow grid of the kburbs somewhat aimlessly, knowing my general direction.
I felt extremely aware for once of what a huge metropolis I’m living in – I’m on the northwestern corner of one of the largest metropolitan areas in the world, by population. I could travel east, south, or southeast for over an hour and still be in neighborhoods identical except in specifics. West and north are different – 15 minutes west is the estuary of the Han River, and beyond that some islands and the Yellow sea and China. 20 minutes north is the most militarized border in the world, and a socialist workers’ paradise, I think.
Here is a picture of a lovely ivy-covered kburban home.
Caveat: The End of “Spring”
I finished watching 달자의봄 (Dal-ja’s Spring). So far, this is the Korean drama I’ve liked most of all the ones I’ve tried watching–as I mentioned before, it’s edgier, by far, than any of the others, despite its sappy, romantic core plot elements.
My favorite character in the drama is 강신자 (Kang Shin-ja, played by actress 양희경=Yang Hui-gyeong – see the picture). Part of why I like this character (and/or the actress who plays her) is because she speaks a very clearly enunciated, slow, methodical Korean, which is easier to understand than most that I hear on tv shows. Whether this methodical Korean is part of the character, or inherent to the actress’s personality, I’m not sure. Regardless, I enjoy listening to her clipped, slow syllables.
The character herself is kind of intriguing, too: a hyperbole of Korean stereotypes about the middle-aged female middle-manager. She’s quite hilarious, without ever being silly or undignified. And in the end, you realize she’s a very sympathetic character, too. I wish they’d made more of the fact that she turns out to be the male lead’s aunt, but she kind of drops out of the last episodes.
If you want to see her in action, she figures prominently in part of episode 11, which someone has been kind enough to upload to youtube (with Spanish subtitles!). [UPDATE 20200327: link was rotten. Here is a different short link from episode 12.] Check her out – she’s the rotund woman in the red suit. Listen to how she minces out those Korean syllables… fabulous!
Caveat: The Obsolete Code of the Higher Eclectica
I was reading an editorial in the New York Times that, although clearly intended as satire and meant tongue-in-cheek, struck me as fundamentally accurate. And it made me feel outmoded, given the extent to which I buy into the "code of the Higher Eclectica" as Mr Brooks put it. I feel a certain scorn, combined with a distrust, of those who base their definitions of cultural coolness on media over underlying culture. But I think it's true. It's now the iPhone generation, and cultural content has become moot – all that matters is means of transmission.
I begin to imagine a marxian-style analysis that encompasses historically and materially determined transitions in "modes of transmission" that goes above-and-beyond the classically marxist transitions in "modes of production." Let's just call it the germ of an idea, for now. Mientras tanto, digamos adios a la "Higher Eclectica" del Sr Brooks.
Which reminds me of a couple of lines in the latest Korean drama that I've been watching episodes of: they mention the "386" generation as being those people in their 30's and early 40's (in Korea, but it applies just as well to U.S. culture I think)–people who's formative years included personal computers but for whom the internet and broadband cellphone connectivity seem just a tad "newfangled."
Anyway, the drama is called 달자의 봄 (Dalja's Spring), and it is consistently violating all the "rules of Korean drama" that I'd decided must exist up until now. It deals with all kinds of unexpected and "taboo" subjects that every single drama I've watched up until now scrupulously avoided: divorce, suicide, abortion, premarital sex, pregnancy outside of marriage, middle-aged career women, single mothers, irresponsible fathers. And more than just blinkingly, although by U.S. standards it remains utterly G-rated.
Yet despite all that, it is a very light-hearted, even sappy romance, with a fundamentally conservative social message, just like all the Korean dramas I've watched. This message strikes me as both compelling and unrealistic vis-a-vis human day-to-day realities in any culture. And it continues to reinforce my earlier not-so-clearly-stated hypothesis that contemporary Korean culture (and perhaps East Asian culture more generally?) is undergoing a kind of Confucian counter-reformation within a modernist and/or post-modernist trajectory.
Yesterday I worked–I'd "volunteered" to help with a speech contest, and so I woke up early and went over to ElBeuRitJi's Baengma Campus, and served as a judge for lots of not-bad student speeches. It was awesome to see some of my former RingGuAPoReom students (middle schoolers) who were participating, and one of my former students, shy-but-supremely-competent Irene, even managed to win a runner-up prize, which was quite an accomplishment in the context of ElBeuRitJi's much more intense academic standards, as well as a remarkable conquest of her own reticence. I felt parentally proud, as teachers sometimes do, I suppose–Irene is one of the few students who I remember vividly from my first few days of teaching back last September, when I realized quickly that she was the quiet one feeding all the right answers to her loud and gregarious friend, Amy, who was sitting next to her.
After work, I walked home in the steaming heat of mid afternoon, all the way down past Madu-yeok and Jeongbalsan, and when I got back to my apartment I felt terrible. Tired and sickly. Perhaps I had given myself mild heat stroke or something, I don't know. But I basically passed out, feeling exhausted, and had an unpleasant night of restless sleep.
-Notes for Korean-
context: 달자의 봄
쿨하게 나가야지="act cool" (kulhage nagayaji = cool-DO-ADVERBIAL go-out-SOME-IMPERATIVE-VERB-ENDING-THAT-I-CAN'T-FIND-IN-A-BOOK)
note that 쿨 (kul) is apparently directly from English
지금 뭔가 야한 상상 하고 있었구만, 맞지?
"Now you're having some vulgar fantasy, right?"
야한=dirty, coarse, vulgar
상상=imagination
일어나다=to get up, wake up
so… 일어났어요?="you're up now?"
context: obsessing on unparseable Korean
According to the drama transcript on the KBS website, in episode 18, about 47 minutes in, grandma says:
고저 한번 잘해볼라다가 끝나는거 고거이 인생이라구 말이디.
I had tremendous difficulty trying to parse this, and I have failed. Also, as I listened to it over and over, I don't think that's what she actually says. The last words sound more like … 인생이라고 말이야, which, conveniently, I find slightly easier to parse–so I'm going to assume, with great hubris, that there's an error in the Korean written transcript, or else the transcript is meant to reflect some kind of dialectical variation and that the actress playing grandma chooses not to implement when she actually speaks. Certainly, I've never heard of a verb ending -디 before. Anyway… according to the subtitlers, the phrase is supposed to mean: "The true meaning of life is to live well once through." So, you can see why that caught my interest–a nice philosophical, aphoristic nugget. But I really have been utterly unable to parse this successfully.
With my revisions to the transcript, the transliteration would be:
goseo hanbeon jalhaebolladaga kkeutnaneungeo gogeoi insaengirago maliya
=fluctuation once well-do-try-[INTRO-WARNING?(p231 in my grammar)]-[INTERRUPTED-PAST(but can this ending attach to the previous one?)] end-GERUND-[MYSTERY-ENDING-#1] [MYSTERY-WORD-#2] life-[COPULA]-[AUX VERB -고 말다?=finish up?]
words…
고저=fluctuation
한번=once<=한=one (ADJ form)+번=time (COUNTER)
끝나다=end, come to an end
고거이=?that?
인생=human life
Caveat: Life in Sunshine Heights
The news from Lone Mountain, Sunshine Heights, Near-the-Capital, Korea.
Place names in Korean are often revealed to be rather inane once you figure out what they mean. I became curious about some of the terminology in my address, and investigated a little bit. I live in a district called Ilsan, which means nothing more than "one mountain." Technically, there are two districts: Ilsanseo-gu and Ilsandong-gu (West One Mountain District and East One Mountain District) – so I guess that means the two districts have to share the one mountain. Nor is it clear to me which of various mountains in the neighborhood is the "one."
These districts (also called "wards" and, in my opinion, best translated as "boroughs") form part of Goyang City. Goyang seems to mean something like "sunshine elevation" – so you might call it Sunshine Heights City. It's also an exact homonym for "exaltation" and a near-homonym for "cat" (goyangi).
The city of Goyang is part of Gyeonggi province. Gyeong is just the Chinese hanja for "capital" (as in capital city), and is often a word used to refer to things related to the capital of the country, Seoul, which is just down the subway line. The -gi ending seems to refer to the fact that the province is "near-the-capital," which is self-evident if you look at a map.
Interestingly, the name Seoul is just the native Korean word for "gyeong" and means nothing more than "capital," too. In fact, you can use the word seoul to refer to the capital of other countries: e.g. 프랑스의 서울 파리 (peurangseu-ui seoul pari = France's capital, Paris).
-More Notes for Korean-
context: work preparations and random thoughts
소금=salt
성적=record, score
회원=member
중=middle, during
대비=preparation, provision
고사=test
기말=end of term
문제=question(for discussion)
나무조각=wooden sculpture
지긋지긋 하군요="it's revolting"<=지긋지긋 하다=be tiresome, be disgusting, be abominable, etc.
Caveat: 과연 외로움은 상처보다 견디기 쉬운것일까?
Yesterday, with my extra day off, I met Basil in Gangnam and ate some delicious very authentic-tasting tacos al pastor – they could’ve come from a street vendor in Mexico City. I felt happy.
Today was more melancholy. Time is running out on my never-ending vacilation/procrastination regarding my decision to stay with ElBeuRitJi or not. I hate the fact of having to make decisions like this. If you just read my blog entries, you will conclude that I’m not very fond of ElBeuRitJi. And that’s true. But there are factors that encourage me, nevertheless, to want to renew. The primary one being that I’m craving some stability and/or predictability at the moment, and I am finally feeling somewhat pleased with the progress I’m making on my efforts to learn some Korean, so to throw things up in the air to see where the land, just now, feels like “running away without a good reason.”
Anyway, nobody will want to read too much about my angst. Let’s just say, by the end of the week, I’ll know for sure if I will be staying with ElBeuRitJi for another year or if everything will be up in the air come end-of-August, with who-knows-what coming next.
In other news… “Go-Stop” is a ubiquitous card game Koreans seem obsessed with–scenes involving people playing this game appear everywhere in movies and dramas on television. I am trying to learn more about it. Rules: https://www.pagat.com/fishing/gostop.html
-Notes for Korean-
context: random notes
매일=everyday, daily
메일=email
날=day
괴물=monster
어린이=child
싫어=”Nope” or “I won’t do it” (a bit rude I think)<=싫다=to be disagreeable, to be unwilling, to be unpleasant
-보다=[comparative particle ending] “…than…”
-네=”and family” after a name, e.g. 달자네=Dalja and family
context: reading a transcript alongside a tv drama
과연 외로움은 상처보다 견디기 쉬운것일까?
=indeed loneliness-TOPIC injury-than bear-GERUND easy-thing-COPULA-CONJECTURE
=”can it be that loneliness is easier to bear than pain?”
context: a web advertisement for a game
재미없으면 보상해드립니다!=”if you are not amused, you get a refund!”
I’ve decided to add this to my blog’s tagline, for a while. The breakdown:
보상=reward, compensation, recompense, refund(?)
드리다=[DONATORY auxiliary verb, HONORIFIC BENEFICIARY]=give, let, set, make a present of something to someone… preceded by V+어/아/여
cf. 주다=[DONATORY auxiliary verb, HUMILIFIC BENEFICIARY]… also preceded by V+어/아/여, which we use all the time to make requests…
… these are a case of a HONORIFIC/HUMILIFIC lexical pair, I think.
Just below, in the ad:
그걸과!=…I have no clue what this means, exactly; 그거-(<=그것) can be “that, this,” but what’s that embedded -ㄹ-? an OBJ ending? 과=and, with, against; but that means the phrase has no verb… is that OK? it would mean something like “against that!” doesn’t sound quite right…
context: reading the labels of household products
곰팡이=mold, mildew
Caveat: comander-in-chief.com
An article in the LA Times (online) about Sean Tevis was intriguing. It’s showing how the new, Obama-style of internet-based fundraising is beginning to impact local political races, in the reddest of red states, Kansas. He’s using geek-speak and webcomics to transform the electoral process in a state legislative race. At right is a particularly funny excerpt from the comic on his website. I could borrow this diagram to explain how to survive in Korea as a westerner!
In fact, I’m not entirely unfamiliar with Olathe, KS… I’ve spent a little bit of time there. That area is basically a Marin County or Westchester County for red-staters (which is to say that Johnson County, KS, is one of the wealthiest counties in the country, but unlike most of the U.S.’s wealthiest counties, it’s about as red as red can get). So the fact that a democrat-leaning computer guy is using the internet to raise unexpected campaign cash, even there, is proof that this new mode of campaign finance is truly taking root, I guess.
Really, the credit belongs to Howard Dean, as I understand it. And various semi-counter-cultural computer types from Vermont and, of course, Silicon Valley. It was Dean, in the 2004 race, who first used the internet effectively in this way – and had it been the case that he’d managed to avoid the “Iowa Scream,” things could have developed Obama-style in that election. But instead, Dean’s campaign self-destructed and the deanoids (including Dean himself, from his position running the DNC) are now the not-so-secret engines driving the internet-based fundraising juggernaut that is barackobama.com. Hmm… I just had a thought. I said sometime back that Obama was going to be our Urkel-in-chief, but how about this: commander-in-chief.com? I wonder who might be squatting on that particular domain name.
In other news… The character Han Ji-eun in Full House is quite different from others I’ve seen, so far, in Korean dramas. Most of the characters (both male and female) in these shows seem to struggle with the same sorts of cultural-based communication taboos that I’ve confronted in my working environments–see my post of several days ago. In fact, it is the existance of these communication taboos that very often drive so many of the convolutions of plot and character development, where, just like in Baroque Spanish drama, the “misunderstanding” is the cultural apparatus behind all the great stories. But Han Ji-eun evolves to become amazingly straightforward in talking about her feelings and situation, which makes her a very sympathetic and appealing character to me.
Quote:
“Power begets more power, absolutely.”–Frank Rich, regarding Obama, in a recent editorial in NYT
-Notes for Korean-
context: talking with my students about big numbers
억=100,000,000 (one hundred million)
context: learning to use the grade-posting website at my new job
평가=evaluation
관리=management, admin
상담=consultation, talk
원생관리=(I haven’t got a clue what this means, dictionary not helping…
문제=theme, subject, question
풀이=explanation
표시=indication, manifestation (with a check box, …표시 means “show…” I think)
context: reviewing old notes (from 7/1 – 7/14)
첫걸음 baby steps, first steps
첫 maiden, first time of something
걸음 walking, pace
정표 keepsake, memento, love token
걷기 fall into step, tip toe…
운동 movement, motion
인재채용 employment recruitment
눈싸움 a snowball fight
긴급 emergency
기상청 weather forecast
문화 culture, civ
겪다 undergo, experience, suffer
분야 sphere, realm
인간 mortal, human
인간계 the world of mortals
사신 (邪神) demon, false god
사신계 ?the world of demons (shinigami)
매일 daily
같이 like, similar to, same as, as usual, side by side
똑같다 alike, absolutely identical, exact image of
맞다 to be right
여행 travel, trip, voyage
돈 money, cash
여우 fox
암여우 vixen (female fox)
아이구 oh my! oh goodness!
Caveat: 빌코멘 오바마
I was riding the subway, and looking at a newspaper over a man’s shoulder. There was a big headline, that read “빌코멘 오바마” (bil-ko-men o-ba-ma). And there was a picture above the headline, that definitely gave away the second word – it was a certain popular American politician. The first word took a few more seconds to puzzle out. But I’ll give a clue – that certain American politician was giving a speech in Germany. So, I’ll let you polyglots out there decipher what that first word is – it’s not Korean.
I decided to do some random exploring. I got off the subway at 독립문 (Dongnimmun). I wandered around the neighborhood, with a vague idea of trying to go up over the mountain to the southwest, toward Sinchon past the Geumhwa tunnel, but the moutain didn’t appear to have footpaths over it – at least not from where I went.
One odd thing I noticed was when I looked up at the Independence Gate (which is what 독립문=Dongnimmun means), and I saw written there, very clearly, 문립독=Munipdok… which is to say, the three hangeul glyphs are in reverse order! Why does the gate have its name written backwards, on it? I have two speculations. First, it’s because I was looking “out of” the gate – I was standing to the east of it, meaning closer to downtown, and the gate was on the western side of the old city, so, the side I was looking at was the “inside.” So maybe the name was written backwards to match up with what was written on the other side? The other speculation is that maybe it has to do with Chinese word order? I couldn’t find a solution to the mystery through any googlings. Anyway, I took a picture of the gate, but the backward hangeul at the top of the arch doesn’t show up very well – the resolution wasn’t good enough on my phone’s camera, I guess.
I got on a bus randomly, and it did in fact take me toward Sinchon. But in the meantime I’d lost interest in trying to get to Sinchon, and had become fixated on making my weekly visit to a major bookstore. So I got off the bus when I saw a station on the number 5 subway line, and rode it two stops to Gwanghwamun, where there’s a big Kyobo bookstore. Too big – I like the one in Gangnam better. This one was a freakin zoo, it was so crowded. Maybe it was because of the rain. I bought a few magazines and one book, and left much more quickly than I normally do.
I have spent some time messing around on naver.com, trying to become more comfortable and proficient navigating the internet in Korean. I found a great posting (in English) that someone did on the basics of how to use naver.com, Korea’s number one internet portal. In any event, I can now proudly say that I have a Korean email address – to go with all my other email addresses! It is jaredway [at] naver.com.
-Notes for Korean-
context: surfing naver.com
만들다=make, create, so… 만들기=[a button on a website, “create!”]
…and therefore, “하느님께서 태초에 천지를 만드셨다” “in the beginning, God created heaven and earth.”
On seeing this, I got curious about the Korean word for God. There are two words which have different origins but are (in)conveniently quite similar in pronunciation (which creates confusion and/or clarity depending on one’s attitude towards semantic ambiguity, right?):
하느님(haneunim)=god as a traditional “lord in heaven” and mentioned even in pre-Christian Korean literature, and, e.g., the Korean national anthem. It comes from 하늘(haneul)=heaven, sky… hence, “sky guy [honorific]”
하나님(hananim)=a capitalized, monotheistic God, “number one guy [honorific]”
…
성격=personality, type
열린=open, unlocked
닫힌=closed… from 닫히다=close, shut
숨은=hidden… from 숨다=hide
…
분류=classification
생활=livelihood, lifestyle
생활하다=live, subsist
-점(店)=a store;a shop
Caveat: Dioses Antropófagos Barsonianos
Hoy mañana tuve que ir a Seul, a la embajada estadounidense para intentar arreglar la cuestión del papeleo de mi visa.
La foto muestra la gran avenida que está directamente en frente de la embajada imperial. A veces cuando me meto en el metro, llevo un pequeño libro que encontré en una librería en Minnesota, que es una versión en español del segundo libro de la serie marciana de Edgar Rice Burroughs: Los dioses de marte. Me gusta leer el libro en el metro porque tiene apariencia de algun librito devocional, y no pinta de ciencia ficción.
En el libro leí estas palabras de la princesa Faidor, hija de Matai Shang: “Pues si los hombres pueden comer carne de animales, los dioses pueden comer carne de hombres. Los Sagrados Therns son los dioses de Barsoom.”
Bien, la teofagia es la práctica de comer dioses (digamos, simbólicamente, por ejemplo en el eucaristo cristiano). Pero parece algo interesante y raro la idea de dioses antropófagos, ¿no?
Caveat: Love is not that special
I finished watching the episodes of 1%의 어떤 것 toward the end of last week, and immediately began a new series, called 쾌걸 춘향 (translated as Delightful Girl Choon-hyang). I'm trying to figure out why I've been enjoying these romantic/comedic dramas as much as I have – above and beyond the insights to Korean culture. And I made a realization because of the rather weighty tradition behind this new one I've started.
Delightful Girl is based on a traditional Korean story called 춘향가 (chunhyangga), which is part of what's called the pansori storytelling tradition – in essence, a kind of epic/lyric oral literature. The plot of the story, just like the 1% story I was watching last week, revolves around frustrated love and romance in the broader context of Asian/confucian social systems and values. And I suddenly realized, I've been enjoying these stories for years – they are extraordinarily similar to the almost hundreds of "framed stories" found in the Cervantine corpus: girl meets boy of different social class, or under some unusual circumstance; love gets frustrated by conflicts involving parents, in-laws, or social mores and taboos; weird coincidences happen that alternately encourage or frustrate the relationship; everything ends happily-ever-after. And Cervantes was just echoing the likes of Petrarch and Boccacio and the vast content of the Spanish Golden Age drama.
My hypothesis: culturally, Korea is experiencing the equivalent of Europe's renaissance and baroque, alongside modernity and postmodernity, all at the same time! That may be too bold, but I taste the germ of a fascinating comparative cultures / comparative lit paper exploring the parallels between renaissance drama and literature and the contemporary Asian television drama.
And my profound quote of the day: in the 2nd episode, the character Han Dan-hee says to her boyfriend Pang Ji-hyuk, over french fries, "They only need a moment. Love is not that special. Crush on an eye, on ears, and then you get the feeling. That's love."
Caveat: Blood. Sweat. Tears. Etc.
I gave blood today. Despite the fact that, at the moment, I’m not renewing my visa, because ElBeuRitJi is taking over my contract it has to be “revised” with the Korean authorities. As a consequence of this, I’m forced to now comply several regulations that were changed or created by the Korean immigration service since the date that my original visa and residence permit were approved 10-11 months ago – even though, technically speaking, I have only approximately 6 weeks left on the current visa.
One of those requirements is that I have to provide a “criminal background check” (also being called a “proof of lack of criminal record”). This is a hassle, because as far as the U.S. consul is concerned, there’s nothing they can do to assist U.S. citizens who need this kind of paperwork. I have to somehow work with my “local authorities” in the U.S. to get this resolved. I’m still researching, but given the dearth of clear information online on how a U.S. citizen resident abroad can most easily accomplish this, I will try to post whatever I figure out – maybe others can find it in this blog and it will help them. But no answers yet.
Another requirement is that I have to get a medical checkup – really, it’s only a blood test for a few communicable diseases and a urine test for drugs, I think. So today I went to a hospital with a member of the ElBeuRitJi staff and two other foreign teachers in similar predicaments to get poked and proded. Here’s where they took my blood.
