A Slow Monday.

I’m currently on my laptop, but here’s what’s tabbed up on my school computer: a hockey game (currently streaming full-screen), my G-mail inbox, 2 articles, 1 on drone strikes and Obama’s foreign policy, and another on the finer points of raising taxes for the American public, as well as an hour’s worth of sappy Korean drama, courtesy of YouTube, my Korean listening practice for the day.

You know, the computer I should be doing work on. For school.

Of course, for some of us expats in the Korean ESL industry, especially this time of year, this is a large part of our jobs, a great deal of what we truly have come to be so good at—being at work, but not really working. You see, most of us in the public school system have no classes these days. The kids have all gone again, this time for about 2 weeks, on spring “vacation.” But make no mistake about it, this is not so much a vacation. Not for the students of our school. They apparently go back home, where most teachers attest to a lack of love and compassion, and at times, sadly, a lack of parenting or parents altogether. They go to academies, which see little to no vacation time for both teachers and students. They most certain don’t travel further than downtown Pyeongtaek, and they most certainly get little stimulation outside of a computer game.

Today, and for the next two weeks, I have no classes. But these things tend to, at any other point of the school year, change on a daily, no, hourly, no, as-the-seconds-tick-away basis.

Upon hearing the faint rumble of what could possibly be our English room door opening (which by association means my “co-teacher” will soon step into our office and observe what I’m so curiously busy doing), I turn the volume down on the stereo speaker that, up until this moment, blasted the sounds of skates and sticks and hip checks into the boards. St. Louis leads Vancouver, 3-2, late in the 3^rd period. Vancouver has about 20 seconds left on the power play, and still shows plenty of life.

Turns out that rumble was not our door. Crisis averted. Sound is on again.

Such is the nature of a day with no students, no classes, and barely any teachers in the school. If not for the humming of the ceiling heater, one could all but hear a pin drop in the English room office.

It’s 1:31 p.m. on a Monday afternoon. My co-teacher has made exactly 2 trips to the English room today, each time alerting me that she’ll be spending most of her day in the teachers’ room. There, she’ll answer phones, make schedules, kiss a little vice principal ass, and generally stay busy and as informed as she can about all the happenings around the school. She does this because she has to. She does this because, in Korean schools, those below the principal and vice principal work their entire lives (and, consequently, their entire asses) off for a mere crack at the opportunity given to the education system’s most superior figures (one of my vice principals last year would kick his feet up the sound of 9:00 a.m.’s class starting bell, open the newspaper, and break from this routine only to stroll down the hill for lunch). My co-teacher is the head of all the school teachers at our school, and as such, she spends most of her free time back and forth between the principal and vice principal’s offices, doing a little brown nosing and staying overly diligent.

Vancouver’s really peppering St. Louis in the offensive zone now.

So today, and this doesn’t happen too often, there is no one in the office with me for the better part of 8 hours. At my job, it’s as cool as it is sad. While I was initially thrilled at the chance to mindlessly internet surf, read books as I pleased, even watch movies or catch up on recently missed episodes of useless TV shows as I saw fit, I tried to spend a great deal of this time writing, studying Korean, and preparing some classroom materials that, for myself and my co-workers, at least give the impression of an honest day’s work. I can remember a few conversations in the last month or two in which we, Pyeongtaek’s expats, asked each other “so, what do you tend to do while deskwarming?”

I watch hockey at my desk, too. I can’t deny that. But you can bet that, when I hear that distant door slide open, the volume’s off and the Korean study book is opened to a seemingly complicated page, full of new words and reading practice.

Vancouver just tied it…and we’re heading to overtime.

Just Another Thursday

     Tardy on the blogging yet again. And why? I've spent so much time at my desk these days, I've literally stated scrambling for ways to try to look busy when my eternally stressed co-teacher comes in, frazzled about vice principal this and obligations that. I want nothing more than to help her, but I've settled on the fact that her answer will be the same as it always is: "you look busy, and I don't want to burden you."

     "But Mrs. Cheon, I'm really not so busy right now, and I would really like to help."

     "Why aren't you busy?"

     Such is life here. I can't really buy a win--the students come in, and sure, I'm happy to see them, but it would be nice to be notified of such once in a while. Conversely, there will be entire days with no classes, during which I'm totally prepared in that the computer is on, the heat is blasting, and the review game .PPT is all set...

     And then nobody shows up, and suddenly I feel a little empty inside. I hang my head, turn off the computer, turn off the heating, close the window (don't get me started on Korean teachers and their insistence to have, yes, simultaneously, windows open and heat blasting in the thick of winter), and saunter back to my desk. I say saunter because, if I step too firmly on the floor, our little space heater starts flashing and sparking and altogether not working.

     And yet I'm not sure what that has to do with anything. I don't know where I was going with that. I guess, these days, I'm just bored. I study Korean in my free time (the grammar is starting to eat away at what brain capacity to learn a language I have left), I watch hockey highlights (happy to have it back!), I read my Hemingway book (A Farewell to Arms, good stuff), and I prepare alphabet books and simple stories for my kindergarten and 1st-2nd graders next semester. I still have 3 weeks to do...just about anything! Our semester will start again in March.

     My life has become one awkward conversation with my co-teacher.

     We have an hourly chat about an English word in which she takes some interest in using in a few sentences, we squabble about the room being cold, she takes a few calls from superiors and is visibly flustered, and I bide my time with the aforementioned attempts to look busy.

     On the bright side, although it is Valentine's Day (better spend it with the teachers!), we have a teachers dinner tonight--in Korean, this is referred to as a "회식." These are always really fun events, and I can in no way complain about how well we are all treated at such 회식s. There is usually amazing food involved, heavy drinking from the male end of one, awkwardly long table, stories told about school, life, relationships (some meant to be heard by all, some merely soju-induced spats about things that should not be uttered in such company), and even a quick 5-minute jab at American culture and customs...if we're really lucky, an elder, Mr. 최, offers a rant about why Samsung has been, is, and will continue to be, the greatest company conceived on this fine planet and why Apple can simply never match up.

     Of course, then it's on to the 노래방, literally "singing room," or karaoke, where all is forgotten and everyone's just down to have a good time, drink some more beer, get a little frisky (and by that I mean our 60-year old female principal danced pretty close to me during my rendition of the Rolling Stones's "Honky Tonk Women" at our first such get together), and just pound on the 2-3 tambourines each room is offered.

     Tomorrow the 6th graders graduate. I've got some mixed feelings on that...certainly I'll miss them, but they've been real punks as of late--surely, the knowledge of the proximity of their ceremony has not been lost on them. All teachers are pretty psyched, it seems, to have them out of the school, as they've all but given up on any form of classroom work that doesn't involve a smart phone or an open space in which to tackle each other.

     That's all from the captain's chair today, folks. Thanks for reading!

     -Sam

Christmas In Korea, Year 2

     Greetings from my desk!  Wow, it feels great to say that.  After 16 months in Korea, I finally have 1 school at which I can absolutely desk-warm while students and teachers are on vacation (as opposed to 5 schools that demand attention to different programs each day of the week, as was the case last year).  This means that I have some time to plan English camp, and plan next semester (diligent thinking!), as well as some time to catch up on anything else I'd like to--movies, music, blogging, reading, anything!  So I'm happy to write this from my desk on a frigid Thursday afternoon.  My camp planning is complete and I think it's fair to take an hour of my time and tell you a little bit about Christmas in Korea.

It's come and gone.  
Christmas for a 2nd straight year in Korea.  

     I wish I could tell you that it cured my homesickness, but has not.  However, this was really as great a Christmas as I could've expected with some folks that I, without hesitation, would certain call a semblance of a family here in Pyeongtaek.  Last year, I had a really nice brunch with some good friends, but spent the majority of the day sitting on floor heating, waiting for a chance to Skype with some family, and generally feeling sorry for myself.  

     It goes without saying at this point that the homesickness reaches its peak around the holidays--namely, in my case, Thanksgiving and Christmas.  While there's no need to inform you about the brilliance that is the Hurd Christmas agenda, suffice it to say that it involves a midnight choir service (complete with the classic, candle-lit "Silent Night"), some morning gifts from relatives, football watching and playing, Christmas music on repeat, about 25 friends and relatives packing into houses that can't possibly accomodate such a crowd, a little shopping, some historical bumming around and bar crawling in Philadelphia, and, consequently, more cheesesteaks, hoagies, and hot wings than you can shake a stick at in a year's time.  The only thing that we're usually missing on that trek to Pennsylvania is snow.  

     So you can imagine Christmas in Korea is...well, a tough sell.

There's no right way to do Christmas. You just do it. 
The best way you know how.

     Completely inconsequentially, I was watching "Shrek the Halls" with my students not a week ago (in part because it's kid-friendly and runs for approximately 28 minutes, and in part because it's the only Christmas-themed movie I could find that had subtitles attached).  

     Although I grew sick of the movie, one line stood out.  Puss, to a saddened, sorry Shrek who has never experienced a "real" Christmas, says softly and confidently,

     There's no right way to do Christmas. You just do it.

     It sounds simple and ideal, but I think it rings true for almost anyone.  I cannot truly and simply explain to anyone, exactly, why we do what we do on Christmas and Christmas only.  I cannot truly and simply explain to anyone why the 1 day of the year on which I feel comfortable and even joyful going to church is Christmas Eve.  I cannot truly or simply explain what connection, if any, stuffing myself with hoagies and chicken wings have to Christmas.  This is the beauty of Christmas, I think--it's different for everyone, and that's what we take such pride in.  It feels quirky and comforting that the things in which I take the most pride in over the holidays have come to mean nothing as far as the actual "Christmas" part of it is concerned.  It's not like we couldn't do such things on any other day of the year, but we only do them around Christmas.  It's a powerful holiday.

Christmas in Korea.

     So as homesick as one might be abroad for the holidays, the best thing one can do is exactly what one would do at home, no?  I've been watching college football bowl games at my desk, eating a bit more Western food this week (shameful), and [prepared some gifts to exchange with my girlfriend.

     But it is always people who make such things memorable, and I cannot thank my friends--no, my family here in Pyeongtaek for making this Christmas as memorable as it could have been abroad.  My good friend Cheng hosted a great potluck dinner and gift exchange night, and for those 6-7 hours, with some of my best friends in Korea, I didn't once think about what I might be missing at home (no offense).  In that moment, there was, truly, no right way to do Christmas.  We just did it.

     With food.  And more food.  And friends (family).  And gifts.  And card games.  And lots of picture-taking and goofing around.  And hugs.  And more food.  And alcohol.  And lots of alcohol.  And Christmas decorations.  And even a dog.  And more alcohol.  And more food.  And friends (family).  

     Thanks to everyone in Pyeongtaek who helped me have an amazing Korean Christmas.

     And thanks to all friends and family back home, who served as a most powerful reminder of just, exactly, why there is no place like home for the holidays, and who I can confidently say I will be returning home to next year for Christmas 2013.  

     Here are a few pictures from the holiday here in Korea.  A Merry Christmas to you and yours.

     Love,
     Sam.

     

Korean Food Spotlight: 부대찌개

     It's time for another edition of my slightly-less-than-weekly "Korean food spotlight."  We'll continue with the relatively simple concepts, in this case a giant soup in which the dominant ingredients are hardly traditionally used Korean materials.

     This dish is called 부대찌개, or "budae jjigae" if you prefer (sounds like BOO-DAY-JJEE-GAE).  The translation of this is a little amusing; 부대(budae) refers to a military base, while 찌개(jjigae) refers to any particularly thicker Korean stew.  This can be a little confusing until you hear the story of 부대찌개's inception.

Why eat this?

     No one thoroughly enjoys talking about the U.S. military presence in Korea, foreigners and Koreans alike (it seems), but 부대찌개 is one lasting memory of the United States' military presence in the peninsula.  How can this be?

     The main ingredients are all too familiar to most Americans, and include spam, hot dogs, cheese, beans (baked, kidney), onions, mushrooms, and peppers.  How do they make it into a Korean dish, you ask?  During and after the Korean War (1950-53), Korea's countryside masses turned to foraging for food they could not grow themselves--as one might learn from being here, the heavily bombed landscape that already includes 70% mountains doesn't leave an ideal amount of land on which to grow food.  Thus, people gathered leftovers from U.S. army rations (specifically from bases in and around my particular area, Pyeongtaek, which is loaded with these kids of restaurants), and did what many Koreans choose to do with a bevy of diverse ingredients--stew them in a soup.

What the hell am I looking at?

     The result is all of those sausages, spam, beans, vegetables and cheese, plus, of course, kimchi and pepper paste that we here in the peninsula refer to as 부대찌개.  Here's some visual context:

 In this particular 부대찌개, you can see some sliced spam, hot dogs, cheese,
beef, onions, rice cakes, mushrooms, and...of course, kimchi.

Heat up your portable table stove, and you've got a good 

broth started.  Yet, you're still missing one Korean favorite

that often goes in 부대찌개: ramen.  Throw it in and you're

good to go.  This particular restaurant, in Seoul, provided 

unlimited ramen per table!

In goes the ramen and some further onions, and it's ready to eat within 

minutes.  A nice little boil started, the spicy broth starting to roll...

     Budae jjigae (부대찌개) restaurants don't differ too much; depending on the place and the garden ingredients available, you'll see small variations.  One time I literally saw cans of Bush's Baked Beans (for the 'Merikans) being dumped into the broth, while on another occasion, I was lucky enough to have some freshly cut tofu blocks stewed in.  Here, you'll see some macaroni that I failed to mention:

Even though we're working with largely familiar, American ingredients, you're

still looking at one relatively healthy dish, all things considered.  This is one of

those meals that makes you feel just connected enough to come, but still very

much Korean.

So how does it taste?

     I think the idea of 부대찌개 gives many an instant thought of "well, this is good, but I'm not really eating Korean food, am I?"  The answer, intuitively, is no.  No, you are not eating Korean food.  But when you think back to the reason this is a popular, comforting dish in the first place, and you think about how proud people here are of their food--proud enough that they would keep the ingredients that some folks were allowed to subsist on when their rice fields were burned, cabbage, radishes and other crops were rotten, etc. and still find ways to "Korean-ize" it with their own tofu, kimchi, and spicy ingredients--you're not eating something that feels remotely foreign when you're finished.  Let it be known, this is most certainly still Korean food.

     And, as just about everything else here, it's awesome.  It has that perfect amount of spice and medicinal (the kind in which your nose just clears and clears) effect of warming and giving life and spices to your whole body.  And it's decidedly fun to eat, as all 부대찌개 restaurants differ from each other just a little bit.

     Give it a try!  Thanks for checking out this week's "Korean food spotlight."

My Students Aren't Always Cute...But When They Are, I Take Pictures.

     The title pretty much sums up my thoughts as to the general behavior of most of my students this semester.  I know they mean well, I know they're naturally playful, but class can generally be a struggle with 20-25 kids who tune in as quickly as they tune out.  I'm tired of having conversations about Korean education vs. U.S.A. education policy and practice, but I will say this: my kids get away with more than I'd ever like during class time, and I'm surprised my co-teacher isn't as angry about it as I am.

     That being said, here are some pictures of my students doing their thing in their cuter moments, i.e. those in which I'm not shushing them, asking them to stop writing on their desks, and sending them out of the room, to their homeroom and to the principal's office.  I've always said, and sometimes continue to say, that for all the bad days, all it takes is a cute smile or deed or some funny Konglish from a student to make you remember why you do this 40 hours a week.  

     Without further yammering, enjoy some cute 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th graders of Songhwa Elementary:

Moving Beyond K-Pop...For Now.

     I admit it.  K-Pop (the lady variety) is some sexy stuff.  K-Pop is also, at times (the dude variety) some androgynous stuff.  For all its powdered and reconstructed faces, catchy beats and moves, and general, seemingly impossible, duality of both sexuality and innocence, K-Pop is simultaneous eye candy and headache.  Those who know me know that I'm only a K-Pop fan to the extent that it drops my jaw, helps relate to my students and other Koreans, and occasionally makes my girlfriend or even my sisters roll their eyes and think "get off it, Sam...enough already."  Those who know me know that I'm as cynical and critical (if not more so) about the industry as I am actively, happily engaged in it.  But that's neither here nor there.

     I've recently come across some other Korean music that I find absolutely groovy; music to which I cannot stop jamming in my apartment at 6:00am or 10:00pm.  The only difference is that this music doesn't blow up on YouTube, sell millions of tickets worldwide, or find its hands tied by singers who desperately try to project any personality they are allowed, and by deep-pocketed executives and record labels who seem to own and control every move, every tweet, every scandal and every cute, posed photo.  Maybe it's not music that's exciting and frustrating me today.  Perhaps I'm just having a bad day.

     Anyway, lately I've been listening to Primary (프라이머리) and Bye Bye Badman (바이바이배드맨)  lately.

     

     And they don't disappoint.  Here's Primary laying down some beats and vibes for his friend Zion T, who (in all fairness to Korean women in music videos, K-Pop or not) sings to a woman as dangerously good looking as any on the scene.  This one's called "Meet."

     How tasty is that song?  Simple, funky as can be, with a full horn section, some sneaky, cooly-spit lyrics and a foxy lady.  

     Here's Primary and some other friends, Zion T included again, laying down some funk that my good friend here in Pyeongtaek, Scott, could only refer to as sounding "like a dead ringer for Jamiroquai."  Nothing wrong with that.  This one's called "See Through."

      Scott had it right on that one.  Again, cool, relatively simple video.  Again, some good looking women and fly clothes I wish I could pull off.  I remember hearing this outside a Pyeongtaek burger joint last Monday thinking all this song makes me want to do is shoot soju and dance for hours.  And if you know anything about me, you know that takes a very specific, very saucy tune.

     Then there are these folks, from whom I've only heard a few tracks: Bye Bye Badman.  I'll have to read up a bit more on them, though that kind of info is hard to find!  All I know is they look like a bunch of kids right out of, or still enrolled in, the baddest, artsiest, fartsiest high school in Seoul.  Just a collection of cool looking kids who use plenty of English lyrics to spice up their garage-band sound.  They even drop a "fuck."  This is called "Low."

     Again, I know little of these folks beyond the fact that they occasionally play at offbeat Hongdae haunts.  Sign me up sometime, though.

     So just to set the record straight, there seems to be plenty more great music coming from this ever-complicated country--at least, for a change, some that transcends the silicone and superficiality of K-Pop's finest.  I hope this kick lasts, and I'll continue to post any solid stuff I find in the near future.  Because I can't resist talking K-Pop for more than, oh, 5 minutes without cueing up a tab full of legs, here's my sign-off.  Until next time.

Korean Food Spotlight: 닭갈비

     Thanks for checking out the blog again, folks. I'm not gonna mention a thing about why I haven't blogged for yet another month, especially after my most recent post alluded to the fact that, at the very least, I'd be offering up something on a weekly basis. That effort has also failed, but here I am a month later, begging for your forgiveness and hoping to make your mouth water with this week's installment of "Korean Food Spotlight" (you can visit my most recent food post on cow insides Here. Maybe, as my good friend and former expat in Korea has suggested, I ought to just devote this blog solely to food. That seems like a better and better idea by the day...

     Let's get on with it. What food are we talking about? The name of the game is 닭갈비 (think DAHK with a relatively hard "d" + GAL + BEE).  As I did last time, I'll show you an opening picture that is not mine and ask that you guess what you're looking at before you scroll down any further:

So we're looking at vegetables, a red sauce of some kind, and what is probably 

meat. One thing for sure is that this shit is spicy.

Question #1: What the hell am I looking at?

     Good question. Although, to be fair, this is a little bit more clear than my last offering. 닭갈비 is, contrary to what my offered pronunciation might suggest, has nothing to do with duck and everything to do with chicken. Now, you might think to yourself, "Big deal, Sam. Why waste my time? Chicken is probably the most commonly consumed bird or meat worldwide. Don't waste my time, clown." 

Question #2: Why eat this?

     I offer that what you're seeing in these pictures is something you've never really tried before. It's wildly simple, but just gets better each and every time I eat it. This is chicken, perfectly marinated and caked in spicy pepper sauce. 닭 ("DAHK") more or less referes to "chicken" in Korea, although 치킨 (literally "CHICKEN") works as well--bless Konglish in all its forms. Add vegetables, namely some lettuce for wrapping, some green onions for extra flavor, and some white and sweet onions for relative crunch. Also add some soft rice cakes (which, coincidentally, look like play-dough) that, when one is lucky, might contain some hot cheese. Order a serving or two of it for you and a friend, and it's all brought to your table, ready for you to fry up over an open flame on your table. If you approach the situation confidently enough, in this situation as well as other Korean BBQ situations, the server might even let you, the foreigner, mix it and dish it all up yourself. If not, just kick back and watch the flames grill these already spicy bird chunks.

     Yikes, that last sentence didn't sound the least bit appetizing. Here's another picture to get you back on track:

Here you have your beautiful marinated and grilled to perfection chicken chunks in the foreground,

and rice cakes, onions, and mushrooms (a nice surprise this time around) in the background.

     It only takes minutes to cook, especially as this particular place (in Chuncheon, 춘천, a city that is known for its 닭갈비 and even has a long street featuring restaurants that serve up the big specialty), as they grill it up on giant, separate grills before you finish it off at your table. Just as with any other BBQ item in Korea, you're offered an assortment of sauces and veggies with which to down this spicy beast--we opted for some romaine wraps, a few green onions, garlic (because who are we kidding? we're in Korea...) and some salty 된장 sauce to cool off the spice a bit. Wrap that up and get it in your mouth son. You'll never have anything quite like it, despite how truly simple it is.

On a bed of romaine, a little rice, garlic, and 된장, there she lies. So good.

Question #3: Is it delicious?

     When Sam grins like an idiot...yeah, it's delicious.

Catarina is an absolute pro with this stuff--she wouldn't let me touch the scissors 

or grippers. You can see just how hot these grills make the room--look at those 

rosy red cheeks! Smuggling cherries from the orchard, Cat?

Recap:

     Bottom line: if you're looking for a relatively tame introduction to Korean BBQ that offers up some ingredients with which you might actually be familiar as a westerner, you really can't go wrong with 닭갈비. Spicy, sweet, hot, spicy, healthy (when you add in some veggies), and spicy. Everything I love about Korean food in one dish--rich flavor, fresh ingredients, and general simplicity in materials and preparation.

Coming Up:

     Guess who is coming to Korea? MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! That's right, my Mama is making the trek to the Land of the Morning Calm in just 5 short days! I'd like to get back on track with the blog as long as she's here, so as to document the constant stream of thinking from a foreigner who is only here for 2 short weeks, and not as a temporary expat. I've been waiting to show Korea to my friends and family for 15 months now, and I could not be more proud and excited to do so. Safe travels, Ma, and I'll be seeing you soon!

     Thanks for reading, folks! More coming soon. 안녕히 계세요!

     -Sam Sam