Tuesday 26 July 2011

Erectile Dysfunction? Screw Viagra, try Magic Beans...

So, another week has passed here in Korea/a very large outdoor sauna. Temperatures have been hitting about 30 Celsius all week- fine if you're a hyper-active Korean child with a fondness for sweating. Not so good if you're a 22 year old Englishman with a tendency, to bitch and moan about anything that doesn't conform to his British ideals.

Now I have to admit, after three months, I'm ready for a holiday. It's very convenient for me, then, that this Thursday will see me jet off to Jeju Island for my Summer Holiday. It is affectionately referred to as Korea's Hawaii, so it has a lot to live up. Or maybe it doesn't, seeing as I've never been to Hawaii before.

Anyway, most Britons will go on and on to their friends about how they hope the weather will be hot and sunny during their holidays. Here, however, I find myself in the odd situation of hoping the weather will be cool, with a nice breeze on the side. I get enough heat pretty much all day, every day here. I actually have a slight desire to come back a bit whiter- my perma-tan is starting to make me look a bit too much like something from The Only Way Is Essex (if you're English). Or Jersey Shore (if you're American).

The Koreans actually share this sentiment with me, especially the women. They enjoy wearing huge visor-like caps with peaks clearly designed for someone with a noggin the size of Sarah Jessica Parker. However, if the sun pops out for a spot of fresh air and they should fail to have a head-beak to hand, they always carry an umbrella around, rain or shine. In the hands of Korean women, umbrellas are dual use, as they are effective sun shields in addition to their primary usage.

Why are they so afraid of the sun then? Well, it's all in aid of the desire to look like a Westerner. No, not like a Cowboy. Like the English. Actually, no- it's in order to look like an American. They are the popular ones here- we're basically the uncool cousin. This is the opposite to us, as I mentioned before. In England the people you least want to look like are the most pale. Gingers.

OK, now for Korean random fact number two. Last week, I was discussing the difference between English and Korean customs with my Korean co-teachers. The conversation turned to what you might bring with you to a party or when going for dinner at someone else’s house.

In England, we maybe bring a bottle of wine (if you have class) or Lambrini (if you're a Chav). Or, if you dare to be a bit different, some kind of 'posh' chocolates. It requires careful consideration if you choose this option though. While wine has three choices (Red, White or Rose), it pretty much tastes disgusting. However, the daring Chocolatier has to choose between a three way selection that will divide opinions until the end of time- Roses, Quality Street or Miniature Heroes. If you ever come to my house though, bring Miniature Heroes.

Now, maybe you're wandering what kind of weird alcoholic beverages/chocolates Korea has to offer? Don't. The only dilemma you're faced with when going to a party here is... “Andrex or Cushelle?” That's right, the polite thing to do when visiting another's house is to bring toilet paper. Koreans do not see it as logical that a bathroom should have a plentiful supply of loo roll for everyone to use. This includes all toilet locations- the work toilets, public toilets etc. This means that, if you plan to drop a Gordon Brown during your day, you'd best be packing some 'Soft, Strong and Very Long'.

Finally, on to the highlight of my week- it takes place during one of my reading comprehension classes.

My students have been studying the classic tale of Jack & The Beanstalk in the past few weeks. The story is split into sections to make it easier for them to follow. Each lesson, they have to write about a section of the story they've studied and what they think of what happened.

I love these classes. The reason I enjoy them is not because it's fun to teach or even that the kids like doing it. No, the reason is far more simple and immature- I love reading the kid's errors and correcting them.

It doesn't sound funny yet, does it? Well, it is when you realise that they've got no idea what a double entendre is. So, this week, on checking over the kids' work, I discovered that one girl had written “I think Jack is a lucky guy because he has a huge beanstalk.” Turns out, there was more than one giant in the story, after all.

Tuesday 12 July 2011

Greetings yellow Earthlings... You can't drive for s**t!

I've been so horrendously busy these past weeks, that this blog is being finished after I started it two weeks ago. By horrendously busy I, of course, mean that I would rather watch The Big Bang Theory than sit here on the sofa typing away at 10:30pm.

Writing this, I worry that I'll eventually run out of interesting things to talk about and the well of racism will dry up. I may find it difficult to turn a weekend sitting on the sofa and watching illegally downloaded movies, that I deemed not worthy of going to see at the cinema, into 1000 words. Thankfully, for now, the well is still overflowing. Quite literally too, as we've had a hell of a lot of rain here. The amount that would usually have some rural town on the news in England with an 84 year old Mrs Walters stuck on the 2nd floor of her semi-detached house with her cat, Fudge. Luckily, the drainage systems here are probably the most efficient in the world here- Fudge is safe on the ground floor for now.

The weekend before last was yet another of 'firsts' here. The first 'first' – a visit to a dog café. I know how that sounds and no, I did not chow down on a Golden Retriever. A dog café here is one where you sit down, order your latte and then 'Lucky', the over-friendly dalmatian, unashamedly licks your face from beside you. Now, to me, this was a slice of home. This took me back to my sofa, where my Border Collie puppy, Ani, will frequently approach me for a make out session while I'm having a cup of tea and a chat. Needless to say, it was a nice way to sample a home comfort that is perhaps one of the things I miss the most since I've been here.

The other first- watching a Korean play. Now, I say play- in actual fact it was somewhere between the lines of being a musical, a pantomime and a cookery show. The story involved two chefs, who were battling it out for the honour of being the top dog. There was audience participation, but not in the form of the typical “Ohhhhh no he isn't!” & “Ohhhhh yes he is!” back and forth. Basically, certain audience members were chosen to try the food that was cooked and decide which chef had produced the best dish. The show also included various break-dancing sequences, musical numbers and a weird but wonderful sequence involving illuminated hands masquerading as fish. It was like a very camp version of Daily Cooks Challenge I guess- though I can't see Antony Worrall Thompson performing and back-flips any time soon.

Enough with the firsts- as of two weeks ago, I became an official Alien. An Alien, here, refers to a foreigner who is working here- it's nice to know that the racial taunts work both ways, at least. How did I become an official Alien? By the delivery of my Alien card last week- it's the equivalent of a national ID card in Korea. It meant I was finally able to open a Korean bank account. This means that I can now get paid directly into my account- I can't say I won't miss getting handed a couple of million Won discreetly in a sealed envelope. No longer can I pretend I'm some kind of drug dealer/Mafia type.

While I’m on the topic of the Mafia, I'm pretty sure that the entire of Korea's driving population is involved in dodgy dealings. All the cars here have blacked out windows- they claim it's so that people can make out in their back seat without being seen. I hardly think this will be in the Kia 2011 brochure...

Fast forward to this past weekend- it involved trekking out to the West coast to spend a relaxing weekend at the beach. When you picture a beach, you usually think of white sand and clear blue seas, with a dash of coral reef thrown in for good measure. Then you remember you live in England and think of jagged pebbles with empty Carling cans strewn across the horizon; crashing waves and gale force winds complete the equation. The beach we arrived at this past weekend was neither- it was essentially a big pile of mud. So, while you were getting your imaginary tan in your beach fantasy, I was on my knees, in squelchy brown dregs, digging for clams. It turns out I'm fantastic at this.- far better than I am at teaching. I managed to fill a whole bucket full of the things in maybe an hour or two.

After an endless amount of barbecued meat and prawns for dinner, I then taught my flatmate and the Koreans how to play poker, just well enough so I could hopefully humiliate them. It worked- kind of...

My sneaky tactics eliminated two players quickly. Unfortunately, the mosquitoes' desire to feast on my flesh triggered calls of “All in” from my cocky gob- this is a sure-fire way to afford the pleasure of winning to a rookie. Come bedtime, I once again drew the short straw and had to crash on the floor at yet another Korean hotel. My pillow was at least a bit comfier this time, I guess...

Finally, come this weekend, I will be the proud owner of a bass guitar. After mastering guitar to the level of advanced-average, I feel it's my duty to bring my bass playing skills to the same level. Flea will have to temporarily replace Slash as my new idol for a year, I think. If you now think I'm worshipping blood sucking parasites and that I have, until this point, been some sort of knife enthusiast, then this is most definitely a sign that you are too old.

To sign off, it's a necessity to touch on a totally unrelated point. This is the fact that Koreans are probably the worst drivers I've ever seen- the stereotype that Asians can't drive is no joke. Either Koreans don't know what indicators are, or Kia cars are as bad as Top Gear makes out and they simply don't work. Maybe they think that pressing the middle of the steering wheel activates them-this would explain the incessant honking of horns I get treated to every time I'm near four wheels. A tendency to switch lanes on the motorways without looking is also not the best tactic for staying alive, either.

If this happened in Britain, it would surely result in a national bout of road rage. Then again, in Britain, the entire country isn't in the Mafia...