Only in Korea...

It’s been too long… Largely due to a combination of forgetting to sit down and write, not having the time to write, and remembering to write but deciding my Xbox was lonely. The amount of news has since backlogged itself to the point where I’ve considered doing a ‘Harry Potter’ and releasing this edition in two parts…

 Lucky you, though- I’ve persevered to fill you in on all that’s ‘happening’ in just one chunk of self-absorbed story telling. I guess this can be considered my comeback blog- can it live up to the hype?

Where to start? Well, a major change has occurred here in the weather. Gone are the Amazonian rainforest conditions. Welcome what I like to call ‘British spring-time weather’. Who would’ve thought I’d be pining for the British climate, ever?!?

Yet, I’m still somewhat of a freak here in Korea, (I never knew!?) as I’m still walking round in a t-shirt, while they’ve all begun wrapping up and shivering violently. I’d be a liar if I said this didn’t raise a smile to my face. After all the months of intense sweating, I feel I’m getting my own back! Saying that, Korea put me back in my place last night after a mosquito found its way into the apartment and proceeded to abuse me without my consent…

What to talk about next? Clearly, as a teacher, I should have lots of teaching stories about how I inspire kids daily. Well, I’m going to talk about holidays instead. What did you expect?

I’ve now experienced Korea’s biggest national holiday in the form of Chuseok (it was actually back in September). This is basically Korean Thanksgiving and, I was told, is the biggest holiday of the year and the equivalent of Christmas to them. Well, for it to be the biggest holiday of the year, there were certainly a lot of people milling about in Seoul and a hell of a lot of shops open. There weren’t even any sales the next day… 1-0 England.

Also, their gifts pale in comparison to Christmas- where we get chocolate selection boxes, they basically get cooking oil selection boxes. Mmmmmm...

St. Nick smashes it in the top corner for 2-0; no bias is involved here at all, obviously.

On to all things adventurous- last time, you may remember, I’ve indulged the inner daredevil in me and have been climbing/ falling off mountains since September. I’ve now completed the course and actually made it to the top of a mountain. Along the way, there was a lot of sweating and some blood. There were no tears, but plenty of girly squeals echoing in my head…

I must give a review of my climbing ability. The signature move in my climbing arsenal seemed to be getting stuck. You could argue the reason I became stuck quite often was because of a lack of flexibility or manliness but, to be honest, it was probably stubbornness.

I would frequently ask for advice on where to put my hands and feet and respond with “Errrr… I’m gonna try this instead. Will that work?” This was met with the exasperated response of “Sure… whatever works for you” by the poor bloke who was stuck belaying me. Of course, in climbing speak, this probably translates as “Whatever. Just hurry the f**k up!”

Add to this that, despite assurances of “trust your feet, they’ll stick” and “trust your harness,” I knew secretly that they were lying and revelling at the prospect of watching the giant fall off the rock.

The experience has also brought to light something previously unknown- I have trust issues. See, when you are climbing, you are being backed up by someone who is ‘belaying’ you from below. This basically means that, should you fall, you they’ve got hold of you via a rope to make sure that you don’t plunge to your death. Well, not death, but at least a sprained ankle or two.

While I never actually plunged to the ground, if I slipped, I nearly always fell about 50 feet through the air, due to me being quite a big unit.  This was quite an accomplishment, due to the fact that I was only about 20 feet up the rock… As I slipped, my weight would take whichever regular sized person by complete surprise, and would yank them forward a bit, dropping me in the process- a massive confidence booster.

Ultimately, if I was to sum up the experience in one sentence, it’d be this- I still don’t trust my harness.

Another gem from climbing I’ve perhaps omitted from my diaries on the mountain is the experience of using a squat toilet. This is due largely to the fact that they are not the first thing that pops into your head when up on the rocks.

But, when you’ve hiked up to the top of a mountain, unsurprisingly, there’s neither a state of the art plumbing system nor an Armitage Shanks in sight. Instead, when nature calls, you are greeted with a small hut which contains a hole in the floor in which you have to aim your excess baggage into. If this doesn’t sound uncomfortable enough for you, I must add that there is no Andrex ‘Puppy on a Roll’ available either- it’s the ‘bring your own’ situation I’ve mentioned before. Oh, and the smell. No amount of gum or fresh air can undo the punishment it inflicts upon your senses- you’d best make sure you have some extra T.P. to wipe the tears from your eyes.

Obviously, then, my biggest worry was none of these things. The biggest fear playing on my mind was, when squatting, that I would fall forwards or backwards and end up washing my shorts in number two.

So, after careful consideration, I came up with a cunning plan. I was going to use the one facility the ‘toilet’ actually had- the wall. I squatted down with my back against the wall and used the power of the mind to create an imaginary seat beneath my cheeks. As for aim, I’ll be honest with you, I was firing blind. But, while I was not to trust my feet or harness on the rocks, I was perfectly fine with trusting my instincts. But, did he score, I hear you ask?

Goooooooooooaaal! In off the post (most probably). I ran out the toilet doing my best Alan Shearer impression. The Korean crowd didn’t cheer- they must be Sunderland fans…

How was this relevant though? Well, it was a turning point in the mental battle of rock climbing. I thought, if I can drop rocks, I can most certainly climb them…

At this point, we should note that I’ve dedicated the same amount of space in this blog to the success of climbing and successful defecation…

Let’s switch focus to a more hygienic topic then- my hair.

So, since I’ve been in Korea (due to my limited grasp of Korean) I had been avoiding getting a haircut. I feared the obvious miscommunication that would ensue would result in my sporting a shaved head, a Mohawk, or some other hairstyle that may result in the Korean students to think twice before calling me “handsome teacher”…

Yet, about four weeks ago or so, I bravely ventured into the depths of the nearest hair dressers that I could find. This was during my climbing stint- my mind was adrenaline fuelled and willing to take risks. However, I was not to go in unprepared- I’d consulted my Korean phrase book and recited the words for short and trim many times over. What could go wrong?!

Well, as I confidently stepped in and unleashed a bout of Korean at the man in the shop, he responded with a confused face- the very same face I pull when any Korean talks to me. My heart sank immediately.

 There wasn’t even a picture book for me to simply point at- I was out of ammo. Or was I? It was at that precise moment that I remembered the greatest weapon in my arsenal- my fluency in sign language. I was saved! About half an hour later, and after much imitation of shaving blades and scissors (complete with sound effects) I walked out with something relatively close to what I had intended to achieve. I’m now considering writing a book about improv sign language- much more useful than any of these “Learn Korean” books. It probably wouldn’t sell as well, though, due to the lack of an attractive Asian woman on the front cover…

However, with success comes failure. The latest failure to inflict itself upon my life involved being locked outside of my room a few weeks ago. This story begins after a gym session, when I thought I’d better pop in the shower before work. However, upon finishing my shower, I shuffled to my room, turned the handle and nothing happened. So, there I was, stuck outside the flat in just a towel- the only clothes at my disposal being my football shorts. One hour to work. Fantastic.

The events that followed involved phoning my director, having him call the repair man, a new door handle/lock being fitted and a £25 bill. How did it lock? I’m still not entirely sure, but hell, it’s Korea- anything can happen…

Other, than my exciting weekends, what occupies me in the week is far less glamorous. Mostly, it’s TV/Movie watching, Xbox and games of Pool. Last night saw me inflict a “Welcome to Korea” 6-1 slaughter of the new room-mate. However, I’m not one to gloat.

So, what TV programs do I watch/ shamelessly download? Well, I’ve finally finished working my way through all four seasons of Prison Break and would definitely recommend it to anyone who’s bored of watching whatever repeats E4 is showing these days. The reason I came to watch it was actually due to a comment from my Korean co-teachers, that I looked like “Prison Break” when I first cut my own hair when I got here. Great- two weeks in and I was already a criminal/fugitive.

Nevertheless, I was intrigued to watch and, in retrospect, thoroughly glad I looked like a convict!

However, on a hike up the mountains for climbing, the conversation topic turned to who Koreans all thought we looked like. This prompted one girl (code-name Demi Moore) to suggest I looked like some guy called “Finn” from the abomination that is “Glee.” I was informed he’s the (fake/American) Football jock and really popular. That may be, but for me to watch Glee, it would involve a major lifestyle change. I’d rather break out of Prison for the time being, thanks…

Let’s finish with some sporting news. Two weekends ago, my high flying (real) football team, travelled four hours south to a town called Ulsan to (alledgedly) dominate the Ulsan Cup. The journey there was treacherous for me, due to task of waking up at 3am to leave at 4am. However, I pity the driver, who couldn’t nod off in the back seat with a cushion but, instead, downed cans of coffee like they were vodka to keep us on the road.

 Arrival time- 8am. Kick off- 9am. First game: 1-0 to us. Sleep is for babies.

Well, judging by the rest of the days results, somebody had best get out the Pampers. Domination is best left to our current league-form. We proceeded to lose the rest of the day’s games. This prompted many players to drown their sorrows. Come the next morning, this drowned our hopes of any pride, as we lost to probably the oldest, fattest, ugliest, Russian-ist team in the competition and left the field with our heads hung.

Still, no weekend is fruitless in Korea. I managed to re-injure my big toe, as usual, and acquired a bandaged up left foot. Some may not view this as a ‘fruit’ as such, but it at least tells a story. Hell, maybe I’m becoming an optimist? Much more likely that I’m high on cold medicine at the minute, though.

Obviously, the best thing about the weekend for me was nothing to do with the beautiful game. In fact, it was the motel that we stayed- quintessential luxury. Double beds, a mini-bar, a computer and a sauna-equipped bathroom the size of my apartment- all for only £25. I’m pretty sure Lenny Henry and the guys at Premier Inn can’t even offer that kind of deal…

Furthermore, there was yet another priceless Korean moment that presented itself during the tournament’s opening ceremony. After all the inevitable monotony of various council and sports representatives delivering some typical cringe-worthy jokes/speeches, the final speaker then proceeded to call out the goal keeper from another team to the podium. At this point, it’s crucial to mention that this particular gentleman was of mixed race. That’s right folks, Korean racism strikes again.

The announcement went something like this:

“Ladies and Gentleman, we are very honoured to have a special celebrity for you today. Without further ado, may I present, TIGER WOODS!”

Cue stunned silence, followed by bouts of awkward laughter. For the rest of the tournament, I was really tempted to ask him how his many infidelities were in bed. This may sound insensitive, but my first instinct was to quip “Still, it’s better than OJ…”

Only in Korea.

Yippee Kay Ay, Shil-pal!

I'm starting this blog with a run through of all the positive events of the past three weeks.

Firstly, I've finally found a gym. Sadly, this means that I've had to say goodbye to loitering round the children's playground for my morning workouts. However, people still stare at me as I'm 'the only white man in the village' so to speak. At least it's better than being stared at for being a suspected kiddy fiddler. I suppose...

The best bit about the gym is it's name- “Superman Fitness & Health Club.” It's a very appropriate as, firstly, Korean fashion dictates that large black glasses are 'in' and a lot of them work in offices so the white shirt and tie accompanies the glasses. Add to this that they have straight black hair. Do you see where this is going? Yes, they all come in looking just tad familiar to the Man of Steel's alter ego, Clark Kent. They don't, unfortunately, emerge from the changing rooms in full on costume; and their work shirts are neatly folded up and put in lockers rather than being torn off and left on the floor... Amateurs.

From the gym, I'm going to illogically switch topics to toilets. Public ones, to be specific. Odour of any kind is regarded as a normality here, I'm beginning to think. The BO here has caused me to gag many a time, yet it smells like a field of roses compared to public loos. Urinals, in particular, are the main offenders. Ironically, the stench they emit is more reminiscent of that associated with their cubicle counterparts. I have to literally hold my breath when I pee- I've considered giving up drinking water to spare myself the hassle...

Back to the arena of physical endeavours. Two Saturdays ago marked the start of my new rock climbing course. Trust it to be the hottest day we've had for quite some time. Cue more sunburn. I had expected the first day to be taught by the health and safety brigade. Instead I was thrown in at the deep end, or high end, I should say. Climbing an artificial wall from 9am until 4pm rendered my forearms and fingers numb for the next day. Annoyingly, I got to watch I watched tiny women dart up the wall effortlessly as my fingers tensed, desperately trying to hold on to all 95kg of me. I predict my fingers will grow biceps in the next five weeks and I'll be able to sell tickets for a ten man gun show. £5 a ticket.

Fortunately, though, climbing actual rock this past weekend was a tad easier. My sweaty fingers could actually grip the stuff and there was no falling off this time. I also had a sneaky advantage this time round as my long limbs allowed me to reach places others could not. This, is an advantage in my upper body. However, this is not an advantage for my lower body. While my legs are even longer than my arms, due to the fact that my flexibility resembles a brick wall, they tend to just get in the way. But at least half of me ran into a bit of luck, I suppose. At last, a benefit of being tall in Korea. Does it make all the times I have to stand up on public transport with my head tilted to the side? Afraid not.

With the good, inevitably comes the bad- as we were climbing in a forest area, it meant Sergeant Mozzy and his grunts launched an offensive on me. As, my skin now resembles that of a greasy adolescent boy, I can only think that my blood tastes better than anything nature has to offer. But hey, I can't donate blood to the human race while I'm here, so the animal kingdom will have to suffice, for now.

Sticking around in the physical arena, I've succeeded in finding some football with fellow English speakers. The benefits to this are: I can expand my vocabulary on the pitch past “Yeah, yeah yeah.” I can enjoy a challenging, competitive game every Saturday, I get my own Juventus/AC Milan home and away kits with the “O'Rourke” proudly emblazoned on them, I actually get to play in my position (centre back) as opposed to being the 'star' striker in a team of ageing Korean men who's idea of half time nutrition is Soju.

Needless to say, our first league game produced an emphatic 5-2 victory and a mild concussion for myself as I was headed by another player. If I grow my hair a bit, maybe it'll stop looking like a Jabulani...

My busy Saturday, two weekends ago, concluded with a home-cooked meal, courtesy of my room-mate's girlfriend and her friend- we'll call them Betty and Betti (their Korean names are so similar I thought I'd give them equivalent English ones). It was fantastic to have home-cooked Korean food, which knocked the socks off anything I've had in a restaurant so far.

But anyway, after I'd stuffed my face, Betty and Betti decided they wanted to paint my big toenails- as I was drunk on food, I agreed as I thought “Who the hell sees your toenails anyway?” Of course, I forgot that, due to the Korean weather, I wear flip flops everywhere. So, I was forced to endure taking the subway and bus home with pink and green toenails. But, have no fear, in an ingenious ploy to butch the whole thing up I got them to write “Shil-pal” on top of the colour- you can work out for yourself what it means from the title of this blog.

So, I set off home, confident in my masculinity. Cue some very confused and bewildered looks from Koreans on the subway. This could have been for a few reasons: 1) I had painted toenails in a society where homosexuality doesn't exist, 2) I had a naughty word painted on my feet or 3) said naughty word also means the number 18...

Now, it is time to tell you a story that took place this past Saturday night as I got the lift down from my apartment. I was just on my way to drop of some rubbish in the recycling compound. However, on the 9^th floor the lift stopped and in walked a child who is mentally disabled.

It's not the first time I've met him, but he usually has someone with him (brother or mother). He tends to grab on to you a lot and prod and poke at you for the duration of your ride to the ground floor. This is fine really, as it's not his fault, he's harmless, and he seems like a sweet kid.

Yet, this time, he was alone. Upon entering the lift, he made a bee-line for me a proceeded to give me a thorough hugging. Fine so far. Yet, the next words that came out of his mouth were the highlight of it all. He started chanting “Apa” which translates as... wait for it... “father.” He then looked up at me and said “Helloooooooooo!” This prompted smiles all round from the rest of the Koreans in the lift and, of course, myself.

When we got out the lift, he promptly grabbed my shirt and proceeded to go all the way to the rubbish tip with me. I couldn't exactly explain that neither child adoption or abduction were on my to do list for this year. Only, when we got back to some steps, could I make my escape. Handy, as I was on my way to catch a bus to Seoul- I'm not sure how that would've gone down with his mother.

Finally, aside from learning how to be rude and offensive in Korean (like I needed help!?), I've actually decided to learn a bit of Korean after a mishap involved me getting on a bus to the supermarket going the wrong way. This then took me to another city entirely...

When I enquired with the bus driver as to where in the blue hell I was and whether the bus would return to Yongin city, he gestured for me to get off the bus. I refused and tried to communicate using the translator on the phone and showing it to him, he looked at the phone and put it to his ear. This series of events repeated itself until I just declared that I was staying put, and hoping I'd return home. Thankfully, I did. However, what should have been a 15 minute journey turned into a 4 and ½ hour round trip. So much for a relaxing Sunday...

So, anyway, I now know a few more Korean words which make my kids at school giddy when I say them. By next week, I should hopefully have learnt how to say “Where the hell am I?” At the minute, if I should happen to end up in a random city, all I have in my arsenal is “I'm an English teacher,” “I'm an English man, “my name is Tom,” “left” and “right.” Not to worry then...

The past three weeks in three words? Bottom-colds, Baseball & Best-Man.

Three weeks since my last post is either a sign that I'm getting busier or that I'm getting lazier. Take your pick, since they're both true. I seem to be on trips every weekend. But, when I get back, you've got another thing coming if you think I can be bothered to sit down and write. I would much rather watch TV. As of late, you can thank Prison Break for my inconsistent blogging. Anyway, enough with the pleasantries.

First off, I promise to make this post as scientifically/historically/englishically/geographically/mathically accurate as possible, due to one complaint on my last post. According to BBC logic, that must mean I've offended a couple billion people, at least. My heartfelt apologies go out to you all.

So, on to my trips...

The first of them was to Jeju Island- my Summer vacation. Now, I thought where I live is hot. Well, Jeju Island was like, as Spinal Tap would put it, turning it up to 11. A hike to the top of a mountain left my light grey vest an entirely different shade. In fact, the highlight of that trip was when we paid a visit to a Lava Tube (basically, a giant underground cave) and, while it was still turned up to 11, it was the Air Conditioning this time.

Another, interesting event happened while I was while swimming out at Sea. I decided to 'chill out' on some coral reef- it was very relaxing. That was until the point I decided to leave and the 'fire coral' (jellyfish lurking in the coral) started attacking me from every angle- they were obviously upset I was leaving. Or maybe they were some of the two billion I riled with my historically inaccurate blogging.

Overall though, the trip was a good 'un, slightly marred by it coinciding with the regular evacuation of my bowels. Yes, I had diarrhoea. And, surprise surprise, it's those bloody Koreans to blame once more! The teachers at my school decided to wash my cup in bleach the Friday before I went and not tell me. As I was particularly parched that afternoon, I filled my cup with water and 'downed' it. For the next two days, I think what came out of exit one was more solid than what came out of exit two. Charming.

The last thing we did on the trip was visit a statue park that goes by the name of 'Loveland'. You can guess where this one's going, surely? There were more genitalia on display than in the locker room of a public gym full of old men, post-showering. Coincidentally, this was the one place I finally remembered to take pictures, at last! Lots of pictures. Then maybe a few more. Let's just hope there are enough breasts in the photo album to avoid raising questions about my 'preferences'.

The second trip and the past weekend was spent camping by a river. The sleeping arrangements were a significant departure from the luxury of a bed, TV and air conditioning provided by a Jeju hotel. But that's the camping experience- discomfort for a few nights so you can return to your bed at home and discover that, while previously ordinary, it's the most fantastically comfy thing ever invented by man. Though, the wood I was sleeping on was nothing like the wood on display at Loveland...

I spent the majority of the weekend playing in the pool and getting horrendously sunburnt. The peeling of my skin commenced today- my back looks like the remnants of a spider orgy. We managed to befriend a Korean child who thought our beach ball was much better than his own. Anyway, he coerced us into playing Baseball/Dragonball Z with him.

Despite me hitting several home runs, my shots were declared constantly as “Fouuuuuuul!” or “Ouuuuuuuuuuuut!” Or rebuttal of playing equally as dirty, caused him to flee and introduce the fantastic game of Baseball Z to some other Westerners. Couldn't hack it with the big boys.

Another feature of this trip that I enjoyed, akin to the air conditioned Lava Tube in Jeju, was the abundance of ice cold showers available. This meant, at the slightest hint of perspiration, I was a stone's throw from some sub-zero relief. This probably caused all my sunscreen to wash off, mind, and was an underlying cause of the spider sperm on my back right now. Totally worth it, though.

At this point I must switch continents to America and congratulate my brother, Danny, and his fiancée Marina who 'look like' they're getting married next August. I must also congratulate myself on being selected Best Man- 22 years of 'brothering' finally paid off... Don't worry, I promise to put as much effort into my speech as you did into asking me to be Best Man, Bro...

Finally, I'll switch continents again, and take a moment now to reflect on the current riots in England. As my flatmate Paul pointed out, this is something he definitely doesn't miss about England. No-one here is a bigger enough a**hole to do those kind of things. It just wouldn't happen. And, if it did happen, the Korean citizens would do something about it- Paul reckons they would be outside with baseball bats defending their businesses. I reckon they're all well versed enough in Taekwondo to do away with the baseball bats altogether. If we mounted cameras by the shops, it could possibly be the best John Woo movie ever.

Then again, they should still bring the bats. As we're near a river, while we're waiting for the looters, we could have a game of Baseball Z...

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.

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 2^nd 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...

FrustrAsian

It's been a while since I last blogged but hopefully that means this week's will be packed full of interesting anecdotes. Hopefully. It's really hard to believe I've been here 2 months now and a 6^th of the way through my time here- time flies when your constantly ranting and being racist. I will also get my first full pay cheque next week, consisting of 2.1 million Won (the first month's had a housing deposit knocked off- I was still a millionaire though...)

First of all, before I go on, a warning for you- the blog is about to get uncharacteristically soppy. Only temporarily, I stress.

Anyway, last Friday, during one of my writing classes, one of my students wrote me a 'thank you' letter which genuinely made me smile inside. To do it justice, I'm going to reproduce it here, inclusive of grammatical and spelling errors.

Dear Tom teacher.

Hello. Tom teacher. I'm Jasmin These days the weather is very hot. So I feel angry. Hum... Maby you feel very sad Because your family live another country. But don't cry :-D Thank you for teaching me and loving me. So I will not to miss English class and do my homework every day. You are the best teacher. Thank you again for everything. Tom teacher

Your student. By teacher

Jasmin

June 17 2011

The only thing in the world who didn't find that touching was Microsoft Word, who proceeded to graffiti it with red and green wavy lines. Thanks, Bill Gates & co., for pointing out that I'm a terrible English teacher... On the plus side, it makes me fantastically confident of gaining the status of 'Cool Uncle Tom' when my brother and his girlfriend have kids. Though please, Danny, do not name any of your kids Juan O'Rourke- I may disown said child.

Back to my adventures- the first major bit of activity since last time has been a bungee jumping and white water rafting trip, at Hantam River. In short, it was an awesome day- the only negative I can muster was that it involved getting up at 5am to catch the bus to Seoul. Why so awesome? Intense enough for my competitive side to enjoy, but also laid back enough that I could let loose and really have fun- Korean rafters are definitely up for some cross-continental banter.

The bungee jumping was also a unique opportunity to see fully grown hulks of men reduced to quivering wrecks, the closer they edged to the jumping ledge. When it came my turn, I looked straight down (despite being told to look forward into the distance) and plunged to my death in slow motion. That was until I was saved by the purple rubber band just before hitting the water. It was, at this point, though, that it got painful. How so? When jumping, they strap you in via your ankles. Earlier in the day, I'd hit my ankles on enough rocks to draw blood during a period swimming near the rapids. This meant that every time I hit the bottom of the jump, I experienced a pain akin to if my testicles had been relocated to my ankles. This pain has the added bonus of being in the aforementioned slow motion.

The pain train had, predictably, not finished yet either. When they lower you down after the jump has finished, a man in a boat catches you and detaches you from the bungee cord. Obviously, they were used to tiny Korean men participating. They lowered me down too much and managed to smash my head against the side of the boat while I was still swinging from side to side. Cue massive headache.

When we'd finished, I had a chance to chat to other teachers on the bus journey home. The bus journeys are, actually, always a highlight of these trips- you get to share stories (much like the ones I tell on here) and hear of some stories which far surpass your own, in terms of hilarity. The girl I was sat next to, Danai, told me of an encounter with one child that still has me laughing a week later. It goes something like this.

Kid: Teacher! Teacher! Are you stressed?

Danai: Errr... no. Why??

Kid: Because you have big thighs. My mommy says that, when you get stressed, you get big thighs.

The single best take on comfort eating, ever.

In football related news, I'm still scoring plenty of goals every week and still playing for many different teams each week (please leave your gay jokes in the comments section below). My transformation from centre back to centre forward has, in my mind at least, made me somewhat of an anti Dion Dublin, circa the end of his career.

I've been to a Korean cinema twice now in my two months here. I actually barely notice the subtitles, as I think I tune them out since they're written in what's basically Arabic. My respect for the Korean language is, clearly, still intact.

That aside, I have a message for the lovely folks at Odeon in the UK. Listen up- it is a hell of a lot nicer watching a movie without the headrest lodged in your upper back and your legs squished in a space that is only appropriate leg-room for Vietnam veteran who has had his blown off in the war. Now, I realise I do have a right pair of legs on me but, in Korean cinemas, I'm able to watch in complete comfort and, should I feel the need, even stretch out a bit. Oh, and it also only costs half as much here too. They get it right.

Did, I just praise Korea? What's come over me? OK, they may have cinemas spot on, but in traditional Korean restaurants they regress to much simpler times. The deal is that you take your shoes off on entry. I can deal with that. It's like being in a middle class persons house who like to give the impression they're upper class. Clean carpets are when you know you've moved up in the world, obviously.

I'm off topic once more- back on to it. So, you then have to eat your meal sitting cross legged on the floor, on a table designed for use by the Smurfs- this presents many obstacles. Now, this Summer I managed to get a bit more flexible and can sit cross legged fine now. Obstacle 1- defeated. However, my 'right pair of legs', when crossed, don't fit under Papa Smurf's mahogany furniture range. Obstacle 2- failed.

So, I have the privilege of extending my pins under the table, where they pop out the other end. This results in my left leg falling asleep so that, when we get up to leave, I fall back down again with the grace of a baby deer who has come across a patch of ice. Just call me Bambi.

Continuing the theme of destroying the feel-good feeling the beginning of this blog created, I'm going to address the title of this week's entry.

This past Friday, I had a teachers meeting at my second school. In this meeting I was handed a sheet, written by the principal, that contained her assessment of every one of the classes I teach. The general consensus was that my students are not allowed to make noise, jump about or play games during class until all of their work in the textbook is completed. It seems the concept of learning while having fun and playing games is about as foreign here as I am. Frustratingly, I am now to dictate and have the students just repeat what I say. The kids will love me.

I must also fill you in as to how the principal made these 'judgements' – each classroom is has a camera fitted in it, so you are under surveillance the entire day. However, there's no audio link up- how can she judge from that? Your guess is as good as mine. Now, while she was not in the meeting, I can rest assured she was watching us on her computer with a keen eye.

Always look on the bright side of life, though. However downhearted a week of teaching may leave me, I can always look forward to the weekend- each one boasts a memory or experience that reminds me again why I came here.

So... what day is it tomorrow? Oh, s**t.

Got an STD? I envy you.

At the time of writing, I've been here six weeks- that's roughly 1/9 of the way through. In this time, I feel I've acclimatised to life in Korea. However, it's taken a bit of getting used to. So, rather than a typical update on my life this week, I'm going to give you a perspective of Korea that you won't find in any travel guides (in six points- one per week):

1. OK, so first off, a large number of Koreans walk around all day wearing what are basically surgical masks. The reason? Because the air quality here is ridiculously poor and they don't want it in their lungs. When it rains, the 'yellow dust' from the air liquefies on the ground. This 'yellow dust' blows here all the way from China, apparently, and I have no idea what it actually is. It may be sulphur (I remember that being yellow from Science lessons at school)? OK, I lied, that's an idea. But OK, there are two things that are actually interesting about this. Firstly, all Korean people have super powers- they have some kind of Superman-like vision that allows them to see this dust in the air. I can only presume their whole life is viewed through a sepia lens... Secondly, the irony of the masks- that about 80% of the population smoke. I've actually seen someone, slide their surgical attire down their neck, take a drag, and then replace the mask immediately after. Wouldn't want any of that dirty air in their lungs, of course.
2. Koreans are very private people, and very in keeping with their traditions. One tradition here is, you guessed it, no sex before marriage. You'd be right in assuming that this is one tradition that isn't followed.. However, they still like to 'officially' abide by this. So, one lucrative business here, is that of 'hotels'. As one girl I met in Seattle would put it, this is where they “hop on the good foot and do the bad thing.” So, these places are basically full of randy teenagers and middle aged men with their lady pals. Charming. They're actually quite nice to stay in, my flatmate has told me. Where were these things when I had to sleep on the floor two weeks ago??
3. Koreans are both really kind and really rude at the same time. How? Well, they share everything and are so accommodating- I guess, comparative to the UK, there's a real sense of community here. The teachers at my second school are always bringing me gifts- I've had a watermelon, a coffee mug, cake, waffles and jam to name a few. Rude b**tards. On the other side of the spectrum, they have a zero patience policy- drivers are constantly beeping their horns and swearing at other drivers, when it's actually no-one's fault- just a traffic jam. Also, the concept of a queue is lost upon them- oh, they do exist, alright. However, they hold no qualms pushing in front of each other- no one protests or even bats an eyelid. It warms my soul.
4. Deodorant is not quite as popular here as we're all used to. Outside, I can deal with- the public transport, mind, is much more challenging. The bus is, at times, excruciating as it gets pretty damn hot and this is a lethal combination with B.O. The subway is air conditioned, though. Much better, right? No, just colder B.O. I'm not sure which is worse...
5. Mosquitoes are the bane of my life at the minute. They attack me constantly- I have multiple bites at various locations on my body, including two on the unreachable spot- the middle of my back. This is infuriating. I don't care what my mother says, scratching these itches is good for me. It heals me. True story. The fact that I'm unable to scratch these two itches is a major source of irritation. Quite frankly, I envy people lucky enough to have acquired crabs- they are free from my dilemma of not being able to access my itches.
6. Korean language is f**king hard to learn! They say it's really easy and all but I beg to differ. Case in point- I learnt the word for “here” (I thought this would be more useful than just shouting “yeah, yeah, yeah” repeatedly, when playing football). The Korean word is pronounced “Yoggi.” Come game day, I was feeling confident. Armed with a new Korean word, this was going to be my most effective performance yet. So, there I was, screaming for the ball- “Yoggi, yoggi yoggi.” Nothing happened. Turns out that the Koreans don't use the word for “here” in football. Fail.

So, there you go. Pretty cynical? Come week 12 you can probably look forward to six more culturally insensitive observations. Actually, all my cynicism may have been used up and I'll be extolling the virtues of the Korean lifestyle. Knowing me, don't get your hopes up.