I'm going to meet my wife's friend's fiancee tonight. This is interesting for more than one reason. Let me explain.
Over the the last five years or so, you see "marriage to a foreigner" signs everywhere. They'll usually say something like "Let's get married" or "Vietnam brides" or something along those lines, and they're normally stretched between trees out in the countryside. Marriage to women from other countries -- China, Vietnam, etc -- has become a huge thing. A massive percentage of rural Korean marriages were with foreign (meaning Asian but not Korean) women.
There's a reason for that: Korea has become a country centered in its cities. Which pretty much leaves Korean farmers in the countryside wishing to get married high and dry. The women desert the rice fields for the cities, and who can blame them? Cinemas, shopping, coffee shops, neon lights! Don't see much of that out in the rice fields. So Korean farmers can't get married. The solution to the problem? Import women.
Such women often have a hard life: the cultures are so different, and problems abound. I often see newspaper articles that detail such problems. On a whole, it doesn't seem like a very good deal, especially for the women.
So. My wife's friend is 48, and unmarried. He imported a bride, paying BIG (!!!) money to do so. The money apparently went to the businessman who set it up, and the woman's family. In this case, the woman is from Vietnam, and from a poor family in the country.
My wife met her last Saturday, and said she was very quiet. She couldn't speak either English or Korean. She's 24 and apparently very short.
We're having dinner tonight in a Vietnamese restaurant downtown. My wife suggested that we show her where the international store was, where she could buy foods from her home country. Her friend's response was (and this is what makes me think this marriage will not work out) "I don't want her to go there. She has to forget her own culture."
Boy, does he have a lot to learn: as one-half of a multicultural marriage, I can say that with some authority. But learn is what he'll have to do, or watch his marriage (later this month) go up in smoke.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Back from the demo
I'm back from my trip to Chungju. It was both fun and interesting, and we did several cool things over the two days. Some of the highlights included learning to play the Korean hourglass drum (which I sucked at, but it was fun) and listening to traditional music and watching b-boys (breakdancing). I have to say I was quite impressed by the b-boys. They were incredibly agile: one of their more impressive feats was 1 man standing on his hand. On one hand. And then, going down a flight of stairs while hopping on one hand, feet in the air. Wow!!
We also watched an impressive teaching-demo class, ate in several nice restaurants, and visited a spa (well, my friend and I did). We also learned about and practiced a Korean traditional martial art (which I also sucked at, although I did look very handsome in the robe). My partner put me on the ground several times.
We stayed in an old but serviceable condo. I traded partners to get my friend Steve as my room-mate, so that was fun. Many people got very drunk that night, and several of them were rather hungover the next day. (Although Steve and I were not among them.)
While the overnight trip was fun, I personally thought it was over-scheduled. There was a little too much packed into the two days, and little time to catch your breath. It was on the bus, go somewhere, do it, then back on the bus for the next thing. Repeat. The last thing we did was the the Korean-instrument workshop, which was interesting and all, but we were all tuckered out by that point.
The other thing that bothered me was the condo. We got there, no problem. It was in Suanbo, which is a famous area for spas. There was a beautiful lit-up pavilion on the mountainside that I made plans to walk up to. And then.... we were told we could not go out of the condo. If we left, or even walked down the street to the the little supermarket, we had to take a Korean staff--person with us. I asked about it, and we were told it was for our own good, that there were men lurking about who would steal our money.
Perhaps there was a legal reason for it. Perhaps there was a credible threat. Perhaps they were worried about the hard-drinkers in our crowd. Perhaps they simply didn't want to worry about us. I don't know, and it was explained in the most vague terms. But I, personally, felt that we were being treated like children.
Other than those two things, it was a good experience that I enjoyed. We're doing it again next November, and I look forward to it.
We also watched an impressive teaching-demo class, ate in several nice restaurants, and visited a spa (well, my friend and I did). We also learned about and practiced a Korean traditional martial art (which I also sucked at, although I did look very handsome in the robe). My partner put me on the ground several times.
We stayed in an old but serviceable condo. I traded partners to get my friend Steve as my room-mate, so that was fun. Many people got very drunk that night, and several of them were rather hungover the next day. (Although Steve and I were not among them.)
While the overnight trip was fun, I personally thought it was over-scheduled. There was a little too much packed into the two days, and little time to catch your breath. It was on the bus, go somewhere, do it, then back on the bus for the next thing. Repeat. The last thing we did was the the Korean-instrument workshop, which was interesting and all, but we were all tuckered out by that point.
The other thing that bothered me was the condo. We got there, no problem. It was in Suanbo, which is a famous area for spas. There was a beautiful lit-up pavilion on the mountainside that I made plans to walk up to. And then.... we were told we could not go out of the condo. If we left, or even walked down the street to the the little supermarket, we had to take a Korean staff--person with us. I asked about it, and we were told it was for our own good, that there were men lurking about who would steal our money.
Perhaps there was a legal reason for it. Perhaps there was a credible threat. Perhaps they were worried about the hard-drinkers in our crowd. Perhaps they simply didn't want to worry about us. I don't know, and it was explained in the most vague terms. But I, personally, felt that we were being treated like children.
Other than those two things, it was a good experience that I enjoyed. We're doing it again next November, and I look forward to it.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Happy but Wet
"It's a beautiful day."
"What are you talking about? It's raining!"
"It's still a beautiful day."
I've always liked rainy days. A lot of people whine or complain, but not me. I was happy when I woke up at 6 and heard the rain falling past my 13th floor window. At the moment, it's still raining cats and dog. The rainy season is living up to its name.
The interesting thing about water, at least from my perspective, is that it is recycled. The water you drink today was slurped up by T-rexes several million years ago, was draining from a corpse on a funeral home table last year, and will be carried into the universe on colonization rockets in 50 years or so. You're drinking water, you're drinking history: past, present, and future.
The most precious substance on earth, the one thing we all need to live, and it falls free from the skies. Gratitude to the rain!
After the Buddha died, his disciples carried on his wandering tradition The large group of believers split into fragments and carried the dharma throughout India (and then into the world). They were mendicant monks in old, worn out clothes with no shoes and ratty hair. They had nothing in the world but a begging bowl, a staff, and their passion and belief in the Buddha's dharma. Life is suffering. Suffering is caused by attachment and craving. You can stop suffering, and this is how you do it...
The original disciples and their followers were like a group of pool balls: scattered in all directions. But at one time of the year, they all came back together: the rainy season retreat. During the rainy season, their normal wandering was impossible: roads were washed out, rivers were flooded, and generally life was miserable. All the wandering begging monks gathered together in community to spend the time together.
I sometimes think of them on rainy day during this time of the year. The young monks with their doubts and their fears, the older monks with their experience , and the eldest monks with their memories of the actual Buddha himself, or their teacher's memories, or their teacher's teacher's teacher's memories. I see them now, gathered around a snapping fire, the sound of the falling rain thunderous outside a cave entrance. An old monk, trembling, bowed, arthritic, hard of sight, is led to a high seat and the younger monks gather around him. The Buddha, one asks, tell us about him. And then, in a age-broken voice, the ancient monk begins to talk.
"What are you talking about? It's raining!"
"It's still a beautiful day."
I've always liked rainy days. A lot of people whine or complain, but not me. I was happy when I woke up at 6 and heard the rain falling past my 13th floor window. At the moment, it's still raining cats and dog. The rainy season is living up to its name.
The interesting thing about water, at least from my perspective, is that it is recycled. The water you drink today was slurped up by T-rexes several million years ago, was draining from a corpse on a funeral home table last year, and will be carried into the universe on colonization rockets in 50 years or so. You're drinking water, you're drinking history: past, present, and future.
The most precious substance on earth, the one thing we all need to live, and it falls free from the skies. Gratitude to the rain!
After the Buddha died, his disciples carried on his wandering tradition The large group of believers split into fragments and carried the dharma throughout India (and then into the world). They were mendicant monks in old, worn out clothes with no shoes and ratty hair. They had nothing in the world but a begging bowl, a staff, and their passion and belief in the Buddha's dharma. Life is suffering. Suffering is caused by attachment and craving. You can stop suffering, and this is how you do it...
The original disciples and their followers were like a group of pool balls: scattered in all directions. But at one time of the year, they all came back together: the rainy season retreat. During the rainy season, their normal wandering was impossible: roads were washed out, rivers were flooded, and generally life was miserable. All the wandering begging monks gathered together in community to spend the time together.
I sometimes think of them on rainy day during this time of the year. The young monks with their doubts and their fears, the older monks with their experience , and the eldest monks with their memories of the actual Buddha himself, or their teacher's memories, or their teacher's teacher's teacher's memories. I see them now, gathered around a snapping fire, the sound of the falling rain thunderous outside a cave entrance. An old monk, trembling, bowed, arthritic, hard of sight, is led to a high seat and the younger monks gather around him. The Buddha, one asks, tell us about him. And then, in a age-broken voice, the ancient monk begins to talk.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Seoul Man
Last weekend, Leona, Helen and I visited the great city of Seoul.
We went up by bus on Saturday afternoon, getting there about 5. We visitedItaewon, which is the most foreign area in Seoul, and home to a great all-English used bookstore called "What the book". After spending some time (and money) in the bookstore, we found a new and fairly good Mexican restaurant called "Los Amigos." The bean burrito was excellent, and Helen enjoyed hers as well, so I suppose we'll go back there next time we're in Seoul. Something I particuarly liked was that every item on the menu had a vegetarian option.
My mother asked me to find some little pill containers while I was in Itaewon, but the store was closed when we were there. I have another source in Cheongju, though, so I'll check there.
We spent the night in Insadong, which is the traditional artist area in Seoul. This is an interesting street with dozens of tea shops. Lots of little shops for shopping, but it's mostly touristy stuff. Fine if you're only here for a week or so, but after 12 years, it's fairly old hat. We normally stay at a hotel by a temple (I like to listen to the bells, gongs, and drums at 4:00 a.m), but we wanted to stay somewhere else this time. We ended up this little closet of a room (although with a big screen screen!), and that was okay. This time. (Unlike the Mexican restaurant, we won't be back. On the way down in the 1940s elevator, I drew an X on the wall with my finger (from a habit by my mother).
On Sunday we went to a famous temple called Bong-eun-sa (sa meaning temple). This is a largish historical temple smack downtown Seoul. It's surrounded by modern skyscrapers, and it's a bit jarring to see the skyscrapers looming over the tiles roofs. We went in and listened to the monks chanting with their mok-tak drums for a while. I would have liked to spend more time there, temple junkie that I am, but Helen isn't that interested in temples.
Finally we did some shopping in the massive and maze-like underground shopping mall called COAX. We just kinda wandered around looking at this and that and getting lost. This is one of those areas you have to see to believe. We finished the shopping with the bookstore (of course, this is me) in the middle (well stocked with new English books). Taxi to the bus station, and then back home.
I love Seoul... when can I go back???
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bongeunsa
http://ko.whatthebook.com/ (Free shipping inside Korea!)
We went up by bus on Saturday afternoon, getting there about 5. We visitedItaewon, which is the most foreign area in Seoul, and home to a great all-English used bookstore called "What the book". After spending some time (and money) in the bookstore, we found a new and fairly good Mexican restaurant called "Los Amigos." The bean burrito was excellent, and Helen enjoyed hers as well, so I suppose we'll go back there next time we're in Seoul. Something I particuarly liked was that every item on the menu had a vegetarian option.
My mother asked me to find some little pill containers while I was in Itaewon, but the store was closed when we were there. I have another source in Cheongju, though, so I'll check there.
We spent the night in Insadong, which is the traditional artist area in Seoul. This is an interesting street with dozens of tea shops. Lots of little shops for shopping, but it's mostly touristy stuff. Fine if you're only here for a week or so, but after 12 years, it's fairly old hat. We normally stay at a hotel by a temple (I like to listen to the bells, gongs, and drums at 4:00 a.m), but we wanted to stay somewhere else this time. We ended up this little closet of a room (although with a big screen screen!), and that was okay. This time. (Unlike the Mexican restaurant, we won't be back. On the way down in the 1940s elevator, I drew an X on the wall with my finger (from a habit by my mother).
On Sunday we went to a famous temple called Bong-eun-sa (sa meaning temple). This is a largish historical temple smack downtown Seoul. It's surrounded by modern skyscrapers, and it's a bit jarring to see the skyscrapers looming over the tiles roofs. We went in and listened to the monks chanting with their mok-tak drums for a while. I would have liked to spend more time there, temple junkie that I am, but Helen isn't that interested in temples.
Finally we did some shopping in the massive and maze-like underground shopping mall called COAX. We just kinda wandered around looking at this and that and getting lost. This is one of those areas you have to see to believe. We finished the shopping with the bookstore (of course, this is me) in the middle (well stocked with new English books). Taxi to the bus station, and then back home.
I love Seoul... when can I go back???
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bongeunsa
http://ko.whatthebook.com/ (Free shipping inside Korea!)
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The End (of the semester) is Nigh!
Well, it's almost the end of the semester here at my high school. I finished grading my writing tests and Idiom / Vocab tests last week, and turned in all of my grades last Monday. Tomorrow starts 4 days of final exams for my poor students. They're all in a tizzy today; all of my classes are doing self-study today, which means I'm mostly flying my desk in a circle.
Next week will be a odd week. Monday is final exam day #3, so I will spend quality time with my desk alllll day long.
On Tuesday, I have to go to an elementary school for three lessons: these are students from a rural district, who don't have access to western teachers. It's a small school with small classes -- between 3 to 7 students in each grade. Not class, notice, grade. Then I spent Wednesday and half of Tuesday at my normal school with normal classes. Not that after-final-exam classess are normal, as students are generally lackluster and bored. They know they're not going to be graded anymore this semester, that they've learned everything they need to know, so why should they put in an effort?
On Thursday afternoon, however, I'm off to Chongju, which is an hour or so north, for a teaching demo and "cultural experience". This is an overnight activity for Chungbuk province EPIK teachers, of which I am one. These are generally worthwhile, and it's fun to get together with my friends and peers. Last year, the highlight was everybody (except me) getting drunk, including the bosses. My friend Steve and I hiked up to Boju- temple in the rain the next morning, so that was fun as well. I didn't know Steve well then, but now he's a good friend of mine.
There was one nerve-wracking moment though, last year. In the midst of the singing and dancing and drunken orgies, the boss, whom I like and respect, came up to me as I was sitting with friends, and leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I want you to know, Dale, that I did the best I could for you considering our current economic situation." And then he walked away.
I mean really, what the hell are you suppposed to think when your boss whispers something like that? I had a nervous few weeks wondering if I was going to be renewed. I was. All that precious worrying wasted (thank the Goddess!).
So it will be an interesting (fun!) week. I just hope my boss can refrain from whispering any more comments in my ear...
Next week will be a odd week. Monday is final exam day #3, so I will spend quality time with my desk alllll day long.
On Tuesday, I have to go to an elementary school for three lessons: these are students from a rural district, who don't have access to western teachers. It's a small school with small classes -- between 3 to 7 students in each grade. Not class, notice, grade. Then I spent Wednesday and half of Tuesday at my normal school with normal classes. Not that after-final-exam classess are normal, as students are generally lackluster and bored. They know they're not going to be graded anymore this semester, that they've learned everything they need to know, so why should they put in an effort?
On Thursday afternoon, however, I'm off to Chongju, which is an hour or so north, for a teaching demo and "cultural experience". This is an overnight activity for Chungbuk province EPIK teachers, of which I am one. These are generally worthwhile, and it's fun to get together with my friends and peers. Last year, the highlight was everybody (except me) getting drunk, including the bosses. My friend Steve and I hiked up to Boju- temple in the rain the next morning, so that was fun as well. I didn't know Steve well then, but now he's a good friend of mine.
There was one nerve-wracking moment though, last year. In the midst of the singing and dancing and drunken orgies, the boss, whom I like and respect, came up to me as I was sitting with friends, and leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I want you to know, Dale, that I did the best I could for you considering our current economic situation." And then he walked away.
I mean really, what the hell are you suppposed to think when your boss whispers something like that? I had a nervous few weeks wondering if I was going to be renewed. I was. All that precious worrying wasted (thank the Goddess!).
So it will be an interesting (fun!) week. I just hope my boss can refrain from whispering any more comments in my ear...
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