Category: Life in Korea

I woke up at 4 am and couldn't get back to sleep.

I read about 100 pages of the 2nd volume of my Korean History survey (I mentioned the first volume [broken link! FIXME] here), which I recently acquired.

I was struck by how technocratic the Joseon state seems, as described. I suspect that is as much an ideological phantom of the present era from which the author is looking back on it, as it is a genuine characteristic of the medieval Korean state. But nevertheless, it's interesting.

Dateline: Los Angeles

…

Soon, I return to Korea. I went to the post office just now, to mail myself a package of the books I bought.

One thing that came up, talking last night with the various people at Fidel's get-together, was that Koreans seem "cold." Meaning, the many Koreans in Los Angeles have a sort of cultural stereotype of being cold, unfriendly, too businesslike, too serious. And this was on my mind as I went to the post office, and had all these incredibly friendly, casual interactions with the many people in the post office.

The clerk, an elderly white man, was friendly – he told me that he liked my shirt, and he told me about a neighborhood art fair the thought I would like – apparently on the basis of the artwork on my t-shirt.  A middle-aged latina held the door open for me going in, and smiled. A young black man held the door open for me on the way out, and I said thank you, and he said have a great day.

All of these are "normal" in the US, at least in some neighborhoods. And it's true that Koreans aren't like that. If they don't know you, and have no reason to interact with you, it's like you don't even exist. You're invisible to them – a ghost.

But all you have to do is have the most rudimentary bit of social interaction and Koreans are actually quite friendly. There has to be some social wedge, though – a point of dialogue, something initiated. And then they begin to open up. And in my experience, it's up to us – meaning us, the outsiders – to reach out. Which how someone can live in Koreatown for 10 years and insist that none of her neighbors ever talk to her. It's true. They won't say hi in the post office, they won't hold the door open for you at the convenience store. You're invisible. But if you would just talk to them, you could forge friendships just as with any other human being. I suppose what I'm saying is that embedded in Korean culture is a sort of inherent shyness.

Perhaps this is yet another way that I fit in there, in a weird, alien sort of way. Not sure. Just speculating.

In my neighborhood, like any neighborhood in South Korea, there is a plethora of convenience stores. Possibly, there is an average of one convenience store per building. I'm not sure, but that's probably close. The most common are the Seven-Elevens and the Buy-the-Ways. The latter chain has as its name a rather clever, English-based pun – higher in quality than most Korean efforts at English-based puns.

Today, I ran across a store with a stunningly bizarre and ugly piece of modern art in front of it, that had something that may or may not have been intended to evoke some level of punnitry, and also included the word "Way."

I found it particularly interesting, in part, for a very personal reason: my own family name: this could be my convenience store, much like my father's failed effort at an auto-wrecking business in the 1970's was named Way's Old Car Works.

Here's the strange modern sculpture – I hope that's what it is. This picture might make a nice "cover" for my facebook page. Maybe I'll try that.

[Daily log: walking, 3 km]

It's official. I signed my contract for another year in Korea, today – about 3 weeks after the renewal took effect from a de facto standpoint (the start date is May 1st), but such are things. We spent about an hour playing with our cellphones while waiting for our number to be called at the posh new Goyang City Immigration Office – our municipality finally has its own (as befits a city of over one million); the new office is near the city hall, instead of it just being a branch office of the Uijeongbu office, which is always what it's been during my previous visits there.

As is usual in such moments, after the process was done I felt both giddy and yet at the same time gloomily reflective in a "buyer's remorse" sort of way.

I'm happy that this stressful moment – the moment of decision and worry about if something might go wrong – is past, but I'm also wondering if I made the right decision. There are many things I don't like about my position, some of which have, in fact, been highlighted this week – my lack of control over the curriculum is greater than I had hoped for, and I often feel that my strong opinions about students' abilities and needs are essentially ignored. But… I have strong reasons to stay in Korea, and this provides a stable, safe, predictible environment in which to do so.

In good news, too, today, my student named Nemesis (not his real name, but you get the idea – picture at left) was extracted from my EP1 class, which made them a genuine pleasure for a change, despite their hyperactivity and disinterest in actual English. Ah well.

Teaching is such a strange thing to be claiming to be trying to do, isn't it?

[Daily log: walking, 3 km; running, 2 km]

I hate my cellphone. I got it because when my old cellphone died two years ago, I just took the cheapest phone on offer (that could go with my particular contract) at the cellphone store in Yeonggwang. But now that ALL of my students have iPhones and Samsung Galaxies, I'm beginning to feel like a luddite. Some of my students asked me, earlier, when I was going to get a new 3G or 4G phone. I lied, and said I was happy with my "zero G dumbphone." Which made them laugh. But I'm not happy with it. Then, I saw an article at Atlantic Wire about "Dumbphone Pride." It's interesting, as some of the reasons in that article for avoiding the smartphone bandwagon resonate with me. Most notably, I, too, worry about "addiction," and, also, the cost of my current phone's usage plan is quite unbeatable – for 11 bucks a month I get more text and calling capacity than I'm capable of using. Most smartphone plans in Korea are going to run upwards of 50 or 80 bucks or more a month, and I'd probably find myself finding out I was capable of using more data than allowed under those plans, too.

In fact, I have not been much of an "early adopter" of cellphones – I was late to the cellphone bandwagon, having gotten my first in 2004. But in some other technologies, I have been a proud early adopter: I was using word processing in the late 1970's (Apple ][) email in the late 1980's (before the world wide web existed). I taught myself HTML and designed and posted my first webpage in 1995. It was even useful – it was a means of communicating with my students at UPenn, where I was a grad student.

I think if everything goes smoothly with my renewal at Karma (about which I'm feeling anxiety at the moment), I'll end up shopping for and getting a new smartphone. I really want a phone with a dictionary, for one thing. And having the internet in your pocket is clearly useful – I see my students using it all the time, both recreationally but even in educational ways, looking up words, finding pictures or information that pertain to classroom discussions, etc.