Reflections

There are trees here. Birch and spruce, crowded along the highway. Even as the road to town switches from paved to gravel and back, the trees remain constant, a wall of green broken only by lakes, rivers, and occasional patches of sand.

And  there are geese. Huge -massive!- flocks of geese, stretching across the sky by the hundreds, their honks announcing their presence while the birds themselves are little more than specks somewhere above the horizon.

There are dogs on the reserve. All dogs are descended from wolves, but these ones have not forgotten it. They roam across the neighbourhood, these big, furry, toothy mutts and mongrels who still come running at a simple whistle or hand clap. They have collars, these dogs, but still wander freely in their posses, streaks of black, brown and grey running by the baseball diamond and past the houses, around the school and down to the lake.

I taught for the first time this week. My class. My own classroom. With posters that I've put up, and chalkboards that only I and my students will write on, and walls on which we'll put up finished work, and so on. My students. I am their teacher. When they walk through the community, people will ask them who their teacher is, and they will say my name.

They are young, my students (my! students!). They're children. They have enthusiasm, and shyness, and a reluctance to open up in front of their peers. Some of them love math, others hate it. Some find Cree class boring; for their friends, it's one of their favourite subjects. They're children. I too was a child once, but mine was a city childhood, growing up in a land of subway trains and tall buildings, a childhood of libraries and museums and Spanish lessons after school. Theirs is a childhood of another colour. They've seen the Northern lights. They know what it's like to live in a world where -30 degree day isn't worth commenting on

But some of my students? Some of my students will have seen things I can't begin to imagine. When their parents or grandparents were the age my students are now, they were taken away from their families, stripped of their culture, robbed of their heritage. Residential schools. The very name conjures horrors of neglect and abuse, of violence and hatred, a legacy which makes itself felt to this day. I don't know my students very well yet. I don't know who will need what from me, and what I'll be able to give them. I don't know how many of my students will be coming to school regularly a month from now, at Christmas, in April. It's going to be an interesting year.

However, I've decided not to blog about my teaching this year, for a number of reasons. This will, obviously, limit the amount of blogging I'll be doing, for the simple reason that I won't be doing a lot of non-teaching related stuff. So I'm not sure just what format the blog will take. I may use it for random thoughts, or anecdotes from years gone by, or I may let it sleep for months at a time.  Time will tell. So will I, once I figure it out.

There is no word in Cree for goodbye, only see you later.


This place is beautiful.

Stay Tuned

New posts coming soon.

Homeward Bound

An airport lounge is not the place for a lengthy blog post, so I'll just say this:

Go to Singapore. Go. Go now. Trust me. You'll love it. Go.





















































Why are you still here? Go!

Malaysia

beaches
sea turtles
sharks
curry
towers
birds
caves
Chinatowns
Little Indias
fruit shakes
mangosteens +

awesome.

Next up: Singapore.

Promise Keeping

Well, I intended to write a blog post from every country, so here's the one for Thailand:

The water is so warm and welcoming, I should be there right now.

See you in Malaysia.

Overload, pt. 2

Cambodia. Kampuchea. Land of the Khmer.

Best surprise to date? The food. Coconutty. Curries. Ridiculously fresh fish. It's quite similar to Thai food, and just as delicious.

Most sobering moment? S-21, Tuol Sleng. The special prison (formerly a high school) where Pol Pot's police would interrogate (torture) prisoners before bringing them out to the killing fields to kill and bury. I've visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, and while that brought about many of the same sentiments and questions, there's something particularly powerful when you're standing in the places where the atrocities were committed, and not all that long ago.

It seems that every place I go these days raises more question than it answers, which is probably a good thing. One of the things the genocide museum at Tuol Sleng emphasized is that the techniques used by Pol Pot's regime were not all that different from those used by Stalin's or Hitler's- or, I think it's safe to say, by the North Koreans today. when you create a culture of fear and mistrust, people tend to comply to protect themselves or their loved ones. I'm interested in learning more about the specifics of Cambodia's civil war, but I'm also curious to learn more about the patterns in general. Any reading recommendations would be appreciated.

Best place in Cambodia to get a sunburn? Rabbit Island, which is either in the South China Sea or the Gulf of Thailand- our map is a bit sketchy on this point. At any rate, Rabbit Island is a 20 minute boat ride from the town of Kep, which itself is on the coast, about 3 hours by bus from Phnom Penh. 3 hours, of course, assuming your bus doesn't break down on the way there, in which case your 3 hour bus ride will become an 8 hour bus ride. Just a little something to keep in mind. I suppose it's equally possible for your bus to break down on the ride back, but this is not something that's happened in my (admittedly limited) experience, so I'll caution you instead about the ride down.

Rabbit Island itself, though, is a beautiful little island with some nice beaches, warm water, and even a little bit of snorkelling. There are a couple of small restaurants on the sand, where the proprietors will be more than happy to stuff you with fresh shrimp and fish (eyes still on!).

Most jaw-droppingly, eye-openingly awesome place to visit? Angkor Wat, Siem Reap. The remains of old temples and palaces, Angkor Wat was the foundation of the Khmer Empire, which had a million people when London had roughly 50,000 (thanks, Lonely Planet!). If you've seen Tomb Raider, you've seen some of Angkor Wat. Moss-covered buildings, stunning rock carvings, giant tree roots wrapping themselves around 1000 year old statuery...my words cannot do it justice.

We have one more day in Siem Reap, during which we intend to explore the town itself, then onto Bangkok.

L'aventure continue...

Overload, pt. 1

Where to begin? The past two weeks have been strange and fun and emotional for a million different reasons, but I'll try to start from the top and work through them. Bear with me.

North Korea: scary, fascinating, indecipherable. I didn't know much about the country going in, and I feel like I left it knowing even less. It was a one-day tour to the town of Kaesong, North Korea, with a population of 350,000 people, apparently. I want to stress the ostensible nature of the population count because, to my inexpert eyes, the town was considerably smaller than North Bay, Ontario, which has an estimated population of 70,000 people. Even if we assume every residence in Kaesong is crammed to the brim with occupants (not an unreasonable assumption, perhaps), it still seems unlikely to get anywhere near the stated total.

I'm focusing on the population figures here, not because they're necessarily all that important in and of themselves, but because they show one of the problems inherent in visiting "The Last Stalinist Regime" in order to learn about it: you have no idea what's true and what's not. In addition to Kaesong, we also visited a small Buddhist temple, at which we saw a Buddhist monk. Since I was under the impression that all religion is banned in the country (Kim Jong-Il and his father, Kim Il-Sung, are the only worshippable entities), however, I asked my (South) Korean tour guide about it, and he confirmed my suspicions, saying that the "monk" was actually an actor there to give the appearance of freedom of religion. Interesting, no?

It's difficult to infer too much from one day, but here are some other observations/speculations:
-all the North Koreans we saw were very thin, likely a consequence of the famine of the late 1990s, early 2000s, in which hundreds of thousands- if not millions- of people are said to have died.
-other than our tour buses, the government cars escorting them, and a few army vehicles, we saw almost no motorized transport at all. A few people had bicycles, but the vast majority of North Koreans seem to get around exclusively on foot, not that there would often be much cause for them to travel distances that require anything more than that.
-due, no doubt, to the scarcity of motor vehicles, the air was crisp and clean.
-we saw very few businesses at all. A movie theatre, a department store (with two or three articles of clothing in the display window) and a barber shop are all that come to mind right now. It's most definitely not a country operating on an open capitalist model, not that that should really surprise anyone.
-It's a scary place, not that that should really surprise anyone either. At the border, returning to South Korea, the guards checked everyone's digital cameras to ensure nobody had taken photos of things they shouldn't. I had taken a couple of pictures of a traffic cop and some of private residences- these were deleted from my camera. By not even the wildest flights of imagination could these have been construed as security risks or containing sensitive information, yet the guards acted as though I had taken compromising picture of Kim Jong-Il himself.

Recommended reading: The Aquariums of Pyongyang. Chol-Hwan Kang spent 10 years in a North Korean prison camp before being released. He later escaped to South Korea, then wrote a book about his experiences. Check it out.

Coming attractions

...and so many of them.

I'm in Gimhae (Busan) Airport's Free Internet Lounge, killing time before my flight to Bangkok, where I'll spend a few restless hours before my connection to Phnom Penh.

So many emotions and thoughts...

I have a number of subjects about which I want to write, but I'm currently running on about 3 hours of sleep in the past 36 (9 in the past 60), so now is not the time for it.

Over the next month, I hope to have at least one entry written in each of the following countries:
-Cambodia
-Thailand
-Malaysia
-Singapore

In addition to my insightful and witty commentary on the above destinations, I also want to discuss North Korea, my departure from South Korea, and possibly several other topics. But I also want to spend more time on beaches, in jungles, around temples, and eating street food than I do on the internet, so we'll see how it goes.

À bientôt!

Historic First

Usually, I choose to provide my thoughts purely in written form, but for today's post something a little more...visual seemed appropriate.

I went out with some coworkers last night and had 산낙지 (san-nak-ji), also known as "live octopus." This is technically something of a misnomer, because the octopus isn't actually alive, only very recently dead. Very recently.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I took a quick peek at the octopus tank:

Take note of the one on the far right. You'll be seeing more of it (him? her?) shortly.

And, well, let's let the video do the talking...

The obvious question, of course, is: how did it taste? And the answer, perhaps surprisingly, is: unmemorable. Apart from the shock factor of eating food which occasionally grabs onto the inside of your cheeks, most of the flavour from eating 산낙지 comes from whatever sauce it's dipped in. It's a strange experience, of course. Most of the food I'm used to eating bears little or no resemblance to its live state, so this is a profound difference. The cruelty question also comes into play, but I'm not really convinced that it's any worse to eat the freshly-amputated limbs of an octopus than to eat a McDonald's cheeseburger. This may, then, be an argument for vegetarianism, or it may simply be an argument to realize that life itself is a cruel and oft-dangerous proposition, and participants do so at their own risk.
Discuss.

Prepositions

Every month or two, we have a staff meeting, in which two teachers are asked to give a short presentation of techniques and ideas they have used in the classroom. Until recently, I'd managed to avoid being called up, but my time came as I had known it inevitably would.

Rest assured, it was a magnificent presentation. Even my notoriously-hard-to-please boss told me afterwards that it was, and I quote, "quite impressive."

Because you are all, I'm sure, quite distraught at having missed out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I give you now the handout I prepared, that you may have at least a glimpse of my awesomeness.

Beyond the Textbook:
Five Fun and Simple Things to do with Prepositions

1. Listening: Spatial Movement:

One by one, call the students to the front of the class, with specific instructions for each one on where to stand:
- Rachel, come stand in front of me.
- Leo, stand beside Rachel.
- Rocky, stand behind Leo.
- Emily, stand between Leo and Rocky.

By repositioning yourself, you also force the students to move as well- by turning around, for example, the student who was previously in front of you is now behind you all of a sudden, and must reorient herself accordingly.

2. Writing: The Basket Game

Divide the class into two teams. Have one student from each team come up to the whiteboard; give them each a marker.

Put your teaching basket on an empty desk at the front of the classroom. Establish what constitutes in front of the basket, beside the basket, and so on.

Take an object- a pen, a die, an eraser- from the basket, and place it somewhere on the desk. The first student to write down the correct preposition gets a point for his or her team. Depending on the level of the students, you can either have them write just the preposition (“in front of”) or a full sentence (“The eraser is in front of the basket.”).

3. Questions: The Hide and Seek Game

Have one student wait in the hallway. Choose a small object and hide it somewhere in the classroom- in a schoolbag, behind the door, under a desk, etc. Once the student is brought back into the class, he or she must find the object by asking yes/no questions:

-Is it under something?
-Is it next to the wall?
-Is it in something?

4. Speaking practice: The drawing game

Bring some simple drawings to class, or if time permits, give your students 3-5 minutes to make their own basic line drawings. Collect the drawings, then invite two students up to the whiteboard.

Show the class (but not the students at the whiteboard) one of the drawings. They must now describe it in detail so the students at the front are able to draw it:

-There’s a Christmas tree.
-Under the Christmas tree is a cat.
-The cat is on a pillow.
-The pillow is next to a present.

This is also a good activity to introduce new vocabulary such as “to the left of,” or “in the middle of.”

5. Assessment: Drawing test.

This is similar to the drawing game, but rather than having students come to the whiteboard to make pictures, each student is given a sheet of paper at their desk, and the teacher then tells them what to draw. I try to keep it simple by using geometric shapes rather than people or animals, as otherwise the students become distracted by adding details. This is also a particularly easy test to mark, as each paper can be checked in a matter of seconds.

-Draw a circle in the middle of the page.
-Draw a triangle above the circle.
-Draw a square beside the triangle, and a small circle in the square.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Yesterday was Teachers' Day, a holiday that is sadly lacking in Canada. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd gladly swap the August Civic Holiday for a Teachers' Day in May. It should be noted that it's not a public holiday here, but our school did decide to take us on a hike for the day instead of teaching. This is another trade I would recommend to any teachers looking to escape from school for a day.

The delightful thing about Teachers' Day, from a purely selfish point of view, is the windfall of gifts given to us by loving students and their parents. They're sometimes useful, sometimes hedonistic, but always appreciated. While there is some overlap between Canadian and Korean ideas of what constitutes an appropriate present, there are also some differences. To illustrate, I present to you now my list of received gifts. In order to forestall any otherwise inevitable wisecracking, I should note that, for the gifts listed, my co-teacher(s) for that particular student or class received the same thing. Unless otherwise noted, each gift is from one student.

Jeff's Teachers' Day Presents, 2008

-socks, 100% silk, 3 pairs
-socks, ankle, athletic, 3 pairs
-vitamins, Centrum Silver ("Specially formulated for adults 50+")
-movie tickets, 2
-t-shirt, white, 1 (my coworker Steve also received a t-shirt, but his was hot pink)
-lime and salt body wash, one bottle
-Nivea anti-perspirant spray, one bottle
-handkerchief, 1
-toothpaste, 6 (six!) tubes
-journal, 1
-Old Spice aftershave, one bottle
-L'Oreal "UV Perfect Advanced Fluid Protector (Dermatologically Tested on Asian Skin)" SPF 50, one bottle
-Krispy Kreme donuts, 6
-30,000 Won ($30) gift certificate, redeemable at various restaurants and stores in Korea

The last two were from the parents of my Dolphin kindergarten class. As you can see, there's a greater emphasis here on skin and beauty products , even for guys; I suspect this has a lot to do with the general importance of physical attractiveness for Koreans. The subway stations are covered in ads for plastic surgery clinics ("Small face, lovely breast"), and even our English textbooks aren't immune ("Does Helen have a fat boyfriend? No, Helen has a thin boyfriend. Helen likes thin boys.). As a teacher, I try to skirt away from these lessons as much as possible, though I do try to teach my students that "fat" is not typically considered an acceptable word for everyday conversation, at least not in the contexts shown in the book.

In part inspired by the gift of aftershave, I decided to shave my beard this week, and therefore came to school cleanshaven for the first time ever. The reaction was interesting. While the majority of my students (and coworkers) noticed something different, many were unable to put their finger on it, guessing instead that I'd gotten a haircut. I'm not sure if there's any particular significance to this, but if pressed to find some, I would hypothesize that it has to do with the scarcity of facial hair among Korean men (and women, for that matter). Because virtually no Koreans have beards or mustaches, they notice it when we Westerners have one, but may find it harder to spot it when it's gone. This is all pure conjecture, though.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go apply some Advanced Fluid Protector.

334 down, 31 to go

It seems a little strange, but my year in Korea is very nearly up. This time one month from today, I'll be zipping up my backpack and preparing to go to Cambodia and other magical places.

So now, 11 months since my arrival in the Hermit Kingdom, I once again find myself in the position of figuring out what to do next. Fortunately, for the moment I've made my decision: procrastinate. I'm putting off most thoughts of the future until my triumphant return to Toronto two months from now.

This past weekend was spent in Seoul. We had Monday off for Children's Day, and I have a friend visiting from home at the moment, so the timing for a three-day weekend was most opportune. You can also expect a guest column from Sara-Jane later this week.

Random thoughts on Seoul:

I've been there a few times now over the course of the year, and it's always been an enjoyable experience. I like the opportunity to get out of Busan for a couple of days, and Seoul has a cosmopolitan vibe that my "hometown" doesn't. It's not just more international, though that's certainly true. Rather, Seoul as a city emanates a certain confidence lacking in Busan. There's a vitality, a vibrancy to the city which makes it a great place to visit. Museums, restaurants, palaces...I like it.

Having said that, I do like Busan, and in some ways I'm pleased not to live in Seoul. For all its attractions, it's much easier to live a Western lifestyle there, and I suspect I would have fallen even more deeply into that trap than I have in Busan, where one is forced to practice rudimentary Korean regularly, and where Korean food is about all one can eat in many corners of the city.

On a different note, one of the sites we visited in Seoul this weekend was the Seodaemun Prison Museum. During the Japanese occupation of Korea, it's where the political prisoners would be taken, tortured, and often murdered. It is, as one might suppose, a sombre site. However, I left it feeling dissatisfied because of the overall tone of the museum. It's clear that the museum founders and curators have striven to convey an understanding of the horrors committed there and what it was like for the prisoners. This does come through, but not always in the manner they might have intended. I found there to be a certain low-budget theme park feeling to the museum at odds with the respectful tone they might have intended. Many of the cells have animatronic figurines sticking bamboo spikes under fingernails, or screaming mechanically, and one is not allowed to forget, even for a second, that the Japanese were the ones committing these atrocities. One of the cells has been reproduced as an execution chamber, which isn't a bad idea, but visitors are encouraged to sit on a stool which suddenly drops four inches. Presumably, this is to show what it might feel like to be hanged, but instead it gives more an impression of a house of horrors in Niagara on the Lake. So that was a little strange.

We also went to a microbrewery which featured the best beer I've had in Korea. The most popular Korean beers are OB, Cass, and (s)Hite, and are generally even less flavourful than the Molson/Labatt/Budweiser stuff one might find back home, so it was a great relief to try a nice brown ale and a stout that actually had some colour and taste. Hurray for microbreweries!

Oh- and I learned recently that (apparently) Koreans weren't allowed to travel outside of Korea until the late 1980s. I intend to investigate this further; the results will be published here as they become available.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 9

Our questions today come from Carrie in Québec City, who wonders:
a) If Koreans have something similar to a boite à chansons,
b) What feminism looks like in Korea, and
c) If "ethnic" food in Korea is American style food.

The Waeguk Responds:

Those are all good questions, Carrie, and each is worth answering, so let's start from the top.

a) For those readers who haven't spent much time in French Canada, a popular place to spend an evening is a boite à chansons. It's usually just a small pub or bar with live music. It's often just a solo guitarist who plays a selection of traditional French Canadian tunes and contemporary (And classic) francophone and anglophone hits. The crowd is often encouraged to sing along (especially during the chorus), and frequently requests songs as well.

While there are venues here which feature live music, there isn't anything that quite resembles the above, even if one were to substitute the word "Korean" for "French Canadian." However, Koreans do have their own form of musical entertainment: the 노래방! Pronounced "norae bang," this translates literally into "song room," and is the Korean form of karaoke. Although reasonably popular in Canada, Canadian karaoke bears little resemblance to its Korean cousin. Typically in North America, karaoke is held in generic bars, perhaps once a week, every second Sunday, or somesuch. Western karaoke involves singing to the entire bar: friends, strangers, and whoever else happens to be within earshot. By contrast, the noraebang is an establishment devoted exclusively to karaoke, and is broken into small rooms, each of which is equipped with its own karaoke machine and sound system, and seats roughly 5-15 people. In other words, one sings exclusively to and with one's drinking mates, which can make for a considerably less daunting experience for those who are not musically inclined. Even your humble waeguk correspond has taken the microphone on occasion to belt out some Human League or Offspring, despite his low self-esteem.

Karaoke is almost infinitely more popular here than in Canada. I would estimate there are at least half a dozen noraebangs within a 10 minute walk from my apartment, and my neighbourhood is by no means unusual in this respect.


b) My initial reaction to the question of feminism in Korea was that it's kind of like Canada's 1950, 1975, and 2008 all rolled into one. This isn't a question I feel overly qualified to answer, but since I'm the only waeguk many of my readers know, I'll do my best to at least give you an idea of the status of women here, if not the state of feminism per se.

Domestic violence is quite common here, sadly. On more than one occasion I've been at a bar and seen a man either hit or threaten to hit his wife. It happens fairly frequently, and also quite openly. I was talking about it one day with a Korean friend, who acknowledged that it's a big issue. She also said that her first reaction when she witnesses it, and that of many of her female friends, is to wonder, "what did the woman do [to deserve being hit]?"

I want to be careful not to overstate the case - I'm by no means suggesting that all Korean men beat their wives. However, I think there is an implicit acceptance, especially among the older people, that has fortunately fallen by the wayside in Canada.

Based only on my own anecdotal evidence, I can tell you that my male and female students seem equally interested in gaining a university and education and becoming doctors and lawyers- the prestige professions. From what I have seen, women are generally encouraged to go into post-secondary education, but are just as encouraged to quit their jobs once they marry or have children.

The U.S. Department of State notes that Korean

"law forbids discrimination on the basis of gender, religion, disability, age, social status, regional origin, national origin, ethnic origin, physical condition or appearance, marital status, pregnancy and child delivery, family status, race, skin color, thought or political opinion, record of any crime for which punishment has been fulfilled, or sexual orientation or medical history, and the government generally respected these provisions. However, traditional attitudes limited opportunities for women, persons with disabilities, and ethnic minorities. While courts have jurisdiction to decide discrimination claims, many of these cases were instead handled by the National Human Rights Commission."

Furthermore, there existed until 2005 a law which made women "legally subordinate to the male household head." 2005! Studies indicate that a woman typically earns 64% of what a man does in a comparable job, and polls show that "79% of women have experienced some form of discrimination in the workplace."

I think one needs to keep in mind that Korea is a country which has seen enormous change in a very short period. The economic progress has been remarkable, and the country once known as the Hermit Kingdom is opening itself up more and more to the rest of the world. Homosexuality, once completely unthinkable, is now "merely" taboo, and women have gained and are gaining more rights and legal protections with relative frequency over the past decade. I suspect there are more to come.

c) Western food (pasta, pizza, hamburgers, etc.) is prevalent in the large cities- as I may have mentioned in a previous post, there are far more Pizza Huts and Baskin-Robbinses in Busan than in Toronto. Because of this, I would hesitate to classify it as "ethnic food." Although my students don't eat burgers or spaghetti at home, they are very familiar with them. By contrast, the average Canadian ten year-old is unlikely to be able to identify bibimbap or kimbap, two of the most popular Korean dishes. Even beyond the fast food places, American chains such as TGI Friday's and Bennigan's are common here, and have arguably found a niche within Korean culture, rather than simply existing as outlets for when consumers want to eat "exotic" food. Japanese food is quite popular as well. On the other hand, there are a handful of restaurants of other countries or regions. In Busan (a city of over four million people), I know of two Thai restaurants, three Indian restaurants, a couple of Turkish restaurants, and that's about it. I haven't had tzatziki in almost a year now. This saddens me.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth

As my time here in South Korea starts to wind down, I've begun a list of things to do before I leave.

Some of them are relatively simple, such as certain dishes I have yet to try (live octopus), or mountains that are only a daytrip away, while others require a bit more work. You may or may not remember a poll in the fall asking whether I should go to North Korea- I'm going on May 31st. This intrigues me, but I'm still uncertain that it's for the best. We shall see.

I've also started a list of things to do after I leave. These, again, range from the fairly elaborate (temples in Cambodia, snorkeling in Thailand, jungling in Malasyia), to the more-mundane-but-no-less-anticipated (shopping at a North American supermarket, going to an English-language library).

I've started and stopped writing this post several times now, for the simple reason that I'm not sure what my point is, or even if I have one. I think I'm just happy to have options. I went with Robert Frost for my opening, but I could just have easily gone with Ecclesiastes:
To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun.

And soon there'll be a new Ask The Waeguk.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 8

Today's questions come from the self-styled Notorious ACG, who asks:

1) Now that you've been in Korea for a while, are there any aspects of your day-to-day waegukian life that are not what you expected to experience?  (Besides the food, of course.)
2) What is the social life like for and among waeguks?  
3) What advice would you have for potential waeguks?  
4) When travelling to Japan and China, did you find that passing through customs was any different that what you would have expected to experience had you been arriving directly from Canada?

The Waeguk Responds:

1) Apart from the food, there haven't been any major divergences from my expectations, but there are various little things that jump to my notice every now and then. Line-ups, for example, do not receive the same attention and respect they do in Canada. It's not uncommon to have someone jump line without so much as a backward glance- or recriminations from others in the queue.

Movie theatres here have assigned seating, so when you go to see a movie, you don't just buy a ticket, but the ticket vendor shows you which seats have already been reserved, so you select from those that are free. This is useful, in that it allows you to come to the theatre, pick your seats, and then wander around in a leisurely manner until 5 minutes before the movie starts, at which point you go to your prime seats - assuming you arrived early enough to book them in the first place.

The subway stops running at roughly 11:30 each night, which is quite early by most standards. However, taxis are very cheap (it can often be more economical for two or three people going a short distance to take a cab), and plentiful, so late-night carousing isn't as limited by this as it might otherwise be. This brings us to question 2, the social life.

2) For many waeguks, the social scene in Korea is not dissimilar to the university experience: live for the weekend, head to the bars, and drink. Because the bars are open until 5 or 6 in the morning, they may well sleep the day away, rising only to repeat the experience of the previous night. While I've had my share of early morning taxis home, I generally make an effort to be conscious by noon.

In a city of four million people, the number of waeguks is still quite low, relatively speaking: I'd guess there are only a couple of thousand in Busan. What this means is that there's a fairly high incidence of interconnectivity - when I went out with some friends on Saturday night, I ran into three or four people at the bar whom I knew from different places.

Beyond the bar scene, of course, we also go to movies, museums, hike mountains, and do all the other things done by well-rounded people with a variety of interests.

3) For potential waeguks, the best advice I can give you is this: do your research. Find out how long your workday will be, where the school is located, what the neighbourhood is like, and so on. Ask if there are any other waeguks at the school you can talk to. There are some great English schools here, and there are some that most definitely aren't.

Ask yourself why you're thinking about moving to Korea. Is it to get teaching experience, to travel, to earn some cash, or a combination of the three? What kind of city do you want to be in? Would you feel uncomfortable being the only Westerner within 20 km, or do you want to fully and completely immerse yourself in the Korean culture (something that's much harder to do if most of your friends are waeguks as well)?

Most importantly- and this is cheesy and clichéd, but bears repeating- do your best to come with an open mind. This isn't North America, but that's also one of the reasons you're here.

4) In terms of going through customs, I can't think of any real differences that there might have been compared with arriving straight from Canada. I think the sheer number of young Westerners traveling around with Korean stamps in their passports is something to which customs officials in both Japan and China have become accustomed, so for them it's pretty much par for the course.

Tales from the kinder classroom - Water Buffalo Goes To The Movies

Step 1: Scroll down two posts for an introduction to these stories.
Step 2: Read all three stories.
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Story #3: Water Buffalo Goes To The Movies

Teacher walked into Water Buffalo class and said, "Good morning, watermelon!" And Water buffalo class said, "Nooo! Water Buffalo!" And Teacher said, "Oh! I'm sorry. Good morning, waterfall!" "And Water Buffalo class said, "Nooooo! Water Buffalo!" And Teacher said, "Ohh! I'm so sorry. Good morning, Water Chestnut!" And Water Buffalo said, "Noooooo! Water BUFFALO!" And Teacher said, "...really?" And Water Buffalo class said, "Yes! We are Water BUFFALO class!" And Teacher said, "okay. Good morning, Water Buffalo!" And Water Buffalo class said, "Good morning, teacher!"

Teacher said, "I have a surprise for you today! We're going to the movies!" And Water Buffalo class said, "yaaaay!" Dustin said, "are we going to see a funny movie?" And Teacher said, "no, we're not going to see a funny movie." Derek asked, "are we going to see a love story? With a pretty princess and a handsome prince?" Teacher said, "no, we're not going to see a love story." Then Angelica asked, "what kind of movie are we going to see, Teacher?" And Teacher said, "We're going to see a scary movie! It's called The Monster Who Ate Other Monsters!" And Water Buffalo class said, "yaaaay!"

On their way to the movie theatre, the students passed a Monster Mask store! Nan said, "Teacher, look! A monster mask store! Can we go in?" And Teacher said, "....okay!" And Water Buffalo class said, "yaaaay!" Dustin bought a green monster mask with big, floppy ears! Sophie bought a blue monster mask with great big horns! Roy bought a purple monster mask with lots and lots and lots and lots of TEETH!" And Fanny bought a yellow monster mask with a BIG ROUND NOSE, and a BIG RED MOUTH, but NO EYES! Fanny couldn't see! But she liked her mask very much. Soon all of the students had bought monster masks and were looking forward to the movie.

When they arrived, Teacher bought tickets and brought the students into the theatre. They put on their monster masks and sat down. Teacher went and bought popcorn. The students said, "yaaaay!" Then the movie started. It was exciting! It was all about a monster who went around eating other monsters!

What Water Buffalo class didn't know, however, was that since they started watching the movie, there was a BIG thunderstorm outside, with LOTS of thunder and lightning. All of a sudden, a burst of lightning hit the theatre, and the monster became ALIVE! The students said, "waaaaaaaaaah!" But Teacher said, "don't worry! This monster only eats other monsters! It doesn't eat children!"

Soon the monster came to Nan. The monster looked down at Nan. Nan looked up at the monster. The monster looked down at Nan. Nan looked up at the monster. Then, the monster opened its mouth AND ATE NAN! The students said, "waaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Next, the monster came to Roy. The monster looked down at Roy. Roy looked up at the monster. The monster looked down at Roy. Roy looked up at the monster. Then, the monster opened its mouth AND ATE ROY! The students said, "waaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Angelica said, "Teacher! We are not monsters! We are children! Why is the monster eating us?"
And Teacher said, "I don't know!"

Now, through all of this, Fanny had been listening to the movie, and then listening to the monster, but she didn't know what was going on. She couldn't see! But finally she took her mask off, and looked up. She was looking at the monster!

The monster looked down at Fanny. Fanny looked up at the monster. The monster looked down at Fanny. Fanny looked up at the monster. Then, the monster opened its mouth, and said, "aaah-aaah-aaaah-CHOOOOO!" And the monster sneezed! Out came Roy! Out came Nan! They landed on the floor in a pile of popcorn. They were wet and sticky, but they were okay.

Angelica said, "Teacher! We are wearing monster masks! The monster thinks we are monsters! That's why the monster ate Roy and Nan. That's why the monster didn't eat Fanny! She took off her monster mask!"

And Teacher said, "yes! You're right! Take off your monster masks, children! Take them off now!"

And all of Water Buffalo took off their monster masks- except for Devin. Devin liked his monster mask very much. It was green and black and yellow and had big horns AND big teeth AND a big nose! Devin loved his monster mask.

Then the monster came to Devin! The monster looked down at Devin. Devin looked up at the monster. The monster looked down at Devin. Devin looked up at the monster. Then, Devin opened his mouth AND ATE THE MONSTER! The students said, "yaaaay!"

If it's not evident in the text, all of the eating (by the monster and by Devin) is done in one fell swoop, without chewing. It's much faster this way for all concerned, and also makes it a lot easier to regurgitate students fully formed. When the students say, "yaaaay," this should be accompanied by exaggerated arm-waving to show the depths of their excitement. When the students say, "waaaah," it should be matched with scared hand gestures for the same reason.

The Water Buffalo/ Watermelon greeting at the beginning of the story is a reversal of my own greetings to my Watermelon class. Whether I called them Water Buffalo, or Water Apple, or Waterlemon, they always insisted on being known by their rightful name- except for a couple of the boys, for whom Water Buffalo was a much cooler name.

Tales from the kinder classroom - The Supply Teacher

Scroll down to the next post for an introduction to these stories.

Story #2: The Supply Teacher

Because they had thrown their teacher out the window, Water Buffalo class didn't know who would be teaching them today. When the new teacher walked in, the students were very surprised. Their new teacher was BIG! Very big. And funny looking: his clothes didn't seem to fit very well, and he wore a hat all the time! Angelica, Dustin and Roy were all very nervous. But then Teacher spoke. "Goooooood moooooorning, Water Buffalo!" He was nice! The students replied, "good morning, teacher!" Teacher was very big, and funny looking, but he seemed happy, and not mean at all. Teacher taught Water Buffalo class how to hold a pencil with their nose, and how to eat many, many peanuts. Then Teacher said, "I have good news for you, class! Today we're going on a trip...to the zoo!" And Water Buffalo class said, "yaaaay!"

When they got to the zoo, they looked at the monkeys. Roy liked looking at the monkeys very much; the monkeys thought he was a monkey! But Alison wanted to see the lion, so Water Buffalo class went to look at the lion. The lion was sleeping. Alison said, "aww! so cute," but Devin was angry. He said, "wake up, lion!" But the lion did not wake up. Devin said, "wake up, lion!" But the lion did not wake up. Devin said, "WAKE UP, LION!" And the lion said, "RRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!"
And Devin said, "waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" And Water Buffalo went to look at the giraffes.

Fanny really liked the giraffes. They were tall, and pretty, and they did not think she looked like a monkey, and they did not say, "RRROOOAAAARRRR!" Fanny could have stayed with the giraffes all day long. She and Dustin agreed that the giraffes were their favourite animals at the zoo. But then Teacher said, "look, class! The elephants are this way!"

When they got to the elephant pen, the students all crowded around the fence to look at the elephants. Because there were so many children, Angelica couldn't get close to the fence. So she read the sign: "Welcome to the Busan Zoo! We have three elephants." Then Roy moved out of the way, and Angelica was able to see the elephants. There were two elephants by the water, and one elephant was standing under a tree, and another elephant was sleeping in the back...Angelica went back to the sign and read it again: "Welcome to the Busan Zoo! We have three elephants." Then she returned to the fence and looked at the elephants. Angelica looked at the sign. Then she looked at the elephants. Then she looked at the sign. Then she looked at the elephants. She called to Alison and said, "look at this sign." Alison looked at the sign: "Welcome to the Busan Zoo! We have three elephants." Then Alison looked at the elephants. She looked at the sign. Then she looked at the elephants. Then she looked at the sign. Then she looked at the elephants: one, two, three, four. Four! There were FOUR elephants in the elephant pen! Angelica said, "that's strange! We should ask Teacher." So Angelica and Alison looked around for Teacher, but they couldn't find him anywhere. Then somebody shouted, "let's go see the tigers!" And the Water Buffalo students left the elephant pen- except for Alison and Angelica. "Is Teacher at the front of the group," Angelica asked Alison. "He must be," replied Alison, even though she could not see Teacher anywhere. They went to join the rest of Water Buffalo class.

As they reached Joy, who was the last member of the group, they saw that Teacher was not with the group. Then Alison heard a noise behind her and she turned around. There was Teacher! He was running to catch up with them. His clothes were even messier than usual, and his hat was crooked! Alison looked back at the elephant pen. She only saw three elephants.


It seems evident (to me at least) that my storytelling owes a great deal to Roald Dahl, Louis Sachar, and Robert Munsch (thanks for the reminder, Erin!), but the line about Roy and the monkeys makes me think of John Irving for some reason. I think it's the italicized "he." This story is a lot more light-hearted than the previous one; I don't know which one my kids preferred -the appeal of the violence in The Mean Teacher is matched by the absurdity of an elephant substitute teacher. As I mentioned in the previous post, these retellings here are just that; they should not be taken as verbatim transcripts from the classroom, and should really be read aloud, with great arm movements and sound effects where and when possible.

As well, you may have noticed that even the students who were thrown out the window by the Mean Teacher have reappeared. This adds credence to the theory that the Water Buffalo class is on a lower floor than Watermelon.

Tales from the kinder classroom - The Mean Teacher

So there have been times in my kindergarten classes when the worksheets are complete, the flash cards have been reviewed, the washroom has been visited and hands washed, and there is still much time left on the clock. To fill this time, we do different things:

-review some more
-sing songs (Farmer in The Dell, Bingo, and You are my Sunshine are particular favourites of late)
-play games (Broken Telephone, the Hand Game, the Animal Game, and so on)
- and one a few occasions recently, I've made up stories. Most often, these stories have been first told to my Watermelon class, and then edited and adapted to my other kinder classes. My students all have Korean names, obviously, but in class I call them by their English names - Kevin, Angelina, Joy (who's a boy, incidentally), Annie, Justin, Sophia, and so on. This is relevant for reasons that should soon become apparent.

Because the Korean school year finishes in February, today was the last day I taught these particular kindergarten classes. In honour of this, I thought it appropriate to recount the stories I have told. They're presented in a somewhat-condensed format, as I would typically ask questions, solicit audience participation, and encourage repetition of certain phrases during the telling. I'm slightly trepidatious, because I really don't know how well these stories (orginially told with accompanying sound effects and gestures, and lasting anywhere from 10-25 minutes) will translate into the written word, but we shall see. After each story, I intend to provide some additional information, intended largely to reassure you that the stories aren't quite as horrible as they might sound. The first one, at any rate, is probably the least child-appropriate of the lot. I recommend reading it aloud, ideally to any six or seven year-olds in your immediate vicinity.


Story #1: The Mean Teacher

Water Buffalo class had a new teacher. He was very mean. When he came into class in the morning, the students all said, "good morning teacher!" The teacher said, "sit down! be quiet!" They began to do their work. Devin put his hand up and said, "teacher, I have a question." When he said this, teacher got very, very angry. He said, "no questions in this classroom!" And then he picked Devin up, walked over to the window, opened it, and THREW DEVIN OUT THE WINDOW! Devin said, "waaaaaaaaaaaah- Thud." Then Teacher closed the window.

A few minutes later, Angelica sneezed. Teacher got very, very angry. He said, "no sneezing in the classroom!" And then he picked Angelina up, walked over to the window, opened it, and THREW ANGELINA OUT THE WINDOW! Angelina said, "waaaaaaaaaaaah-Thud." Then Teacher closed the window.

The class continued working. Then, Dustin asked Sophie if he could borrow her eraser. Teacher said, "no borrowing erasers in the classroom!" And then he picked Dustin up, walked over to the window, opened it, and --- and then Roy said, "NO, TEACHER!" Teacher said, "what?" And Roy said, "PUT DUSTIN DOWN!" Teacher was very confused, but he put Dustin down. And then Roy grabbed Teacher's left leg, and Fanny grabbed Teacher's right leg, and Sophie grabbed Teacher's right arm, and Alison grabbed Teacher's left arm. Dustin opened the window, and THEY THREW TEACHER OUT THE WINDOW! Teacher said, ""waaaaaaaaaaaah-Thud." Then Dustin closed the window, and Water Buffalo class said, "yaaaay!"


This story was first told during the rehearsals for the Kindergarten Concert. After a particularly grueling rehearsal, one of my classes was yelled at for ten minutes by a coworker of mine. When she was finished, I said to her (away from the students, of course), "why were you yelling at them? They were really good!" At this point, she looked rather embarrassed and admitted that they had been good, but said she felt she needed to castigate them to make sure they didn't get sloppy. Different teaching methods, I guess. At any rate, when I walked into the classroom it was full of downcast, dejected faces. Wanting to cheer them up without directly contradicting my co-teacher, I told them this story. It seemed to do the trick.

When I first told the story, I was careful to leave the fate of the defenestrated students ambiguous. In fact, the screams (which weren't screams at all, really, but merely saying "waaaaaaah" in a loud voice) didn't end with a thud per se; they were merely cut off abruptly, and that was that. When I told the story recently to another of my classes though, one of my students asked if they were dead. I told him that unlike the real kinder classrooms, which are on the sixth floor, the Water buffalo class is on the first floor, so it was just a three foot drop from the window to the ground.

Perhaps because it was the first story I told, The Mean Teacher is considerably shorter than the others. Whether this constitutes a point for or against is entirely a matter of taste.