Despite my living in Korea for 6 months now, I still feel like a foreigner. Not in a bad, uncomfortable way. More like a reinforcing way that I am 100% American even though I was born in Korea approx. 30 years ago. It is interesting, however, to be completely surrounded by people who look like me. I can completely blend in like a chameleon. By the way, for those who think Asian people look alike, go live in an Asian country for a while. There are all sorts of faces, complexions, eye shapes, head sizes, body sizes, etc. Some Koreans are really dark skinned. Some are super pale. Others have huge heads. It’s fascinating, really.

As far as learning the Korean language, I’ve been slacking on the learning. I have been picking up words and phrases as I go along – mostly from hearing the Korean teachers and kids say things repeatedly and learning the meaning by context (or asking the teachers what it means). Here are some Korean words/phrases I’ve learned and their context (Note: the spelling is my attempt at replicating how they sound phonetically):

• ku-mahn-ay – means “stop” – as in “stop hitting your friend please” (5-yr-olds lack important motor and emotion-management skills and charge at their classmates with tiny fists – I repeat, it’s a circus)
• bahn-der-oh – means “anywhere” or “any way” (I think) as in “you can put the stickers anywhere on the page. yes, anywhere. yes, anywhere. yes, bahn-der-oh – anywhere!!!”
• sih-chil (I haven’t quite mastered the pronunciation of this yet) – means “color” – as in “color, please. Color! (make rapid coloring motion) color, please! (child asks, “sih-chil?”) yes, color!!”
• chu-oh – means “cold” – as in “it’s freakin’ cold out and it’s the end of April!”

Despite missing home and being able to have an hour-lunch break away from “the office” and going to the bank whenever I want rather than having to ask like I’m 16 and need to borrow the car for an hour, springtime in Korea is rather refreshing. The cherry blossoms peaked about 2 weeks ago and sighed in bright green bloom last week. Shrubbery glows with fuschia and red and yellow and whites, and dusk can be really amazing with an awesome orangey-red sun. It almost makes me forget about the circus.

Filed under: life in Korea, teaching in Korea ]]> http://findingseoul.wordpress.com/2010/05/06/spring-the-circus/feed/ 0 minikristen http://findingseoul.wordpress.com/2010/03/01/fresh-start/ http://findingseoul.wordpress.com/2010/03/01/fresh-start/#comments Mon, 01 Mar 2010 02:31:51 +0000 minikristen http://findingseoul.wordpress.com/?p=97 ]]> Wow, has a month really gone by? The weeks have been smearing together, like it does whenever you get settled into a routine, a seesaw of daily habits and events.

The 7-year-olds have graduated and a school year has ended. Thus begins a new school year at B-i English School and a new challenge for us teachers – teaching English to kids who have never spoken or read English before, let alone know their ABC’s. This is the real teaching that I expected to do when I came to Korea.

Half of the kids are returning to complete their B-i education and the other half are brand-spanking new to the life of “going to school.” I anticipate many crying episodes, many “what’s the matter?”s with the kids hyperventilating with snotty noses not understanding a word I’m saying. Some kids don’t have American names yet so I’m sure there will also be many blank stares.

I have been teaching for almost 3 months and what I have learned is that I am not meant to be a teacher. I don’t think I’m a bad teacher (come on, I gotta encourage myself if I’m going to make it through the whole year), but teaching is just not for me. How come no one ever says that in their blog about being an ESL teacher? Some people have the gift and the patience and the energy, and some people – like ah-hem, me, – craves peace and a silent work area.

That being said, I try to consider the job as a job and take advantage of the culture and opportunities when I have free time. Side trips to other countries aren’t a bad distraction either. A recent trip to Hong Kong for the Lunar New Year is such an example (which unfortunately rained the whole time we were there, but we got to go on a helicopter ride!! woo hoo!!).

I think the kids are starting to respect me more, but it’s hard to tell. Every day is a coin toss. I’ve been called a “kid-teacher;” I’ve been asked why I’m so short. And just the other day I was asked if I’m a “man” or “girl” because I was wearing slacks and a suit jacket. When I told Monica that I am a girl, she asked, “Teacher, then why you wear man clothes?”

I’ve even learned some new Korean words. A couple that have been extremely helpful are “morayo” (or “molayo”) which translates to “I can’t speak” in English. I say this whenever someone talks to me in Korean…Which brings up another point. I have gotten many funny looks when people realize I can’t speak Korean. A few times, I’ve been asked if I’m Chinese because it seems incredulous that a Korean person can’t speak Korean. A couple of times, cab drivers laughed and muttered who knows what.

I listen to the Korean streaming all around me, hoping that something will click, that somewhere in the recesses of my memory, the language will spark and I will start speaking flawless Korean. I strain to extract phrases, but it’s very difficult – as it is for any foreigner in a new country, the language sounds like gutteral fireworks with changing intonation, a sort of fluid hieroglyphics.

I have also learned the word “yogi,” which I picked up by listening to the only 2 students in the 5-yr-old class talk to each other. It means “here.” Some others are “chongee” which means paper, “anyo” which means no, and “anjah” which means sit.

Give me 5 or 6 months, and I’ll learn an actual phrase. :)

Some of the kids have really uncommon English/American names. Of course, you have your handful of Johnny, Alex and Alice. But then there are names that I have never even heard of, like:

• Annika – she’s sweet & quiet and barely says a word
• Gelasio – he’s round-faced with a Bruce Lee haircut and likes to tell jokes (no longer goes to Bandi)
• Vico – he’s super cute and always shares his snack
• Odette – she’s cute & sweet, and told me once that another kid thought I was “scary teacher but no smile” (meaning I’m not so scary when I smile), so now I make a special effort to smile
• Leo – he’s often in his own world, but he is a sweet boy
• Solomon – one of the youngest students, likes to pretend he’s “angry tiger”
• Joy – he has a wavy mop-top and is very cute. one of the brightest in his class, but never says a word
• Red – he’s one of the loud ones in class, but very bright

All of the students are preparing for the end-of-the-year concert. The school year closes at the end of February in Korea. So we have been practicing our songs – “Bippidy Boppidy Boo,” “L.O.V.E.” and “Doe a Deer.” And of course, there are cute hand movements added in for entertainment. It wouldn’t be a real show without dancing!! (and me dressing up like a bear for the 5-yr-old’s play of the story “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt“).

My best friend, Michelle, and I flew to Thailand to celebrate the incoming 2010 in its tourist-filled capital, Bangkok. It was hot. It was balmy. It was tropical heaven and a relief from the teen-degree weather we’ve been having in Korea. I can sum up Bangkok in 2 words – shopper’s paradise. The city bustles with hot pink taxis and men cycling mini taxis (they look like a modernized rickshaw) transporting international tourists to outdoor markets that sandwich the sidewalks – cramped and crowded – men and women sell Rolex watches (very good look-alikes I might add), Viagra, scarves, T-shirts, porn, numb-chucks (sp?), and because prostitution is legal, women line up trying to catch the eye of a male passerby.

I can also understand why people have visited Bangkok and ended up staying there for a few years. It is cheap! To give you an idea of just how cheap Bangkok was, here’s a sampling of items we purchased:

• cab fare from airport to hotel (40 miles) = $6
• lunch for 2 (pad thai, chicken curry, beer, pineapple juice, spring rolls) = $10-12
• cold medicine (10 tablets) = $2
• 1 Singha beer = $1.25
• toiletries at 7-Eleven (toothpaste, lotion, hair conditioner, hair gel, gum, cough drops) = $4
• fresh pineapple and watermelon off the street = $2

We didn’t have a chance to see the Emerald Buddha or Reclining Buddha, but we did go on a dinner cruise on our last night and could see the temples in the distance, all lit up and serene looking.

And for new year’s, we cheered for 2010 on the 59th floor of the Banyan Hotel, having danced our hearts out to the eclectic music the DJ pumped through the stereo. Mind you, Michelle and I were the only ones dancing, but we didn’t care. The view was breathtaking:

Bangkok at night

A very happy new year to everyone! Next…more stories about Korea…:)

christmas tree in suwon

Christmas is umm…different in Korea. At least to an American so used to overabundance – of Christmas tunes blaring in every grocery, department and convenience store, of Christmas lights decorating house after house, of advertisements to “buy now” – the energy is different here. The stores aren’t packed with last-minute shoppers. The only place where I can tell it is a special holiday is at the train station. It is packed with people with suitcases, on route to visit family members for the weekend.

One of the Korean-American teachers told me that Christmas in Korea isn’t a big deal. It’s a holiday that excites children, with hopes of Santa Clause leaving presents for their good behavior during the year, as well as couples who apparently give each other tokens of love through gift-giving. But the holiday isn’t one about presents; the kids only open 1 or 2 gifts and that’s it (this would make every American kid cry). For everyone else, it’s just another day.

An interesting side note – there are 4 different holidays in Korea dedicated to couples, a type of Valentine’s Day that we celebrate in the states (some begrudgingly). There is even a holiday dedicated to single people, where they eat a certain type of meal, and gather together with a slight anticipation of meeting someone date-worthy.

But, the Koreans do try to scatter the Christmas spirit. Some trees are lit; the department stores and restaurants humbly display Christmas decorations, not at all to the excessive degree that is oh-so-American. And the funny thing is that you can hear Christmas songs – all in American. It makes me wonder if Korea even has their own Christmas songs.

Christmas this year was an usually warm 45 degree day, but it was a good one with even a little surprise at night – fresh snowfall.

My mornings consist of 4 classes – storytelling (and finding various ways to tell the same story over and over – one story is read for a whole month) and arts & crafts on Fridays (except for my 4 year olds – in American age – who I do arts & crafts with twice a week). Then there is lunch – which, by the way, is provided by the school for all teachers. (Again, I think I lucked out with this position!)

Lunch consists of rice. There is always, always rice – sometimes plain and sometimes with red beans mixed in. There is also always soup – often bits of fish are mixed in, sometimes with bean sprouts or cabbage. Then there is some type of protein. One day we had an omelette type of “entree.” Another day we had fish cooked in some red spice that wasn’t very spicy (everything is pretty bland since it’s for children). There is also some type of side dish. Side dishes, called “banchan” are standard in Korean cuisine. And finally, there is always, always kimchi. Kimchi is a side dish consisting of cabbage fermented in garlic, scallions, ginger, spicy red peppers, and sometimes other ingredients like tiny fish for flavor. You either love or hate kimchi.

After lunch, I teach 2-4 more classes depending on the day. They are considered kindergarten classes even though one of my classes consists of one girl, aged 10 I think. The children in these classes have been learning English for a short period of time so they are learning the basics such as names of places (the library, zoo, park, and museum) and practicing writing in English.

For the most part, the kids are eager to speak (or yell) in English. So far I have found which objects they love by the amount of enthusiasm and they use to repeat words to me and how loudly they say them. When I ask them what the weather is like outside, it is always “sunny” and “windy.” It takes more encouragement for them to say “cold.” (Which, by the way, it is freezing in Korea!! This week has been a steady -4 degrees Celsius which is like 25 degrees Fahrenheit and it is even colder at night.)

Somewhere in between the afternoon classes, all the teachers partake in the afternoon snack, also provided to us by the school. The snacks are chewy rice things that I love because of their super starchiness and pineapple chunks, or dumpling cakes with some sort of vegetable and meat substance in them, or some other Korean snack food.

Watching the children’s behavior has been interesting for me because I can pick up some Korean habits through them. For example, every child finishes all of their lunch without complaint. It doesn’t matter if they don’t like something, they are expected to finish everything they are served that day. It was amazing for me to see them eat every grain of rice from their stainless steel food trays (the foreign teachers eat with one of the classes and then rotate every week or month, I don’t remember which). When I say every grain of rice, I mean every single grain. Their treat when they are finished is a small cup of milk.

One of the few memories I have of being at the orphanage was looking forward to having milk. I remember being given a small carton of milk and relishing its creamy deliciousness. The funny thing is that now that I’m back in Korea, I still find the milk here to be very delicious. I haven’t found too many variations of milk here – not like the skim, 1%, and 2% or ultra-pasteurized, etc. – that you can select from in the U.S. Also, I can’t read what’s on the milk cartons here so whose to know what type of milk it is. Anyway, the milk is delicious. I don’t know if it’s pasteurized differently or if it is customary for Koreans to drink whole milk (that’s what it tastes like because it’s extra creamy and yummy), but yes it is that delicious. So delicious in fact that I have just dedicated a whole paragraph to Korean milk. :o)

I have never realized how much I love  the sound of spoken English, be it broken English or semi-broken English or even single-word English. It can be frustrating to be denied milk in coffee simply because someone can’t understand me and nerve-wracking when a cab driver drives around in circles trying to find the address of the school (which I have written in Korean to make it easier for me to point to rather than try to wrestle with giving instructions to someone who doesn’t know English) and all I can do is sit silently hoping I will make it there and that the driver who is now earnestly talking in Korean isn’t, in fact, cursing me out.

B–i English School is about 45 minutes (by bus or taxi) from the Suwon subway station. It’s a charming building with 4 floors and the stairway and hallways painted in bright colors.

When I said in my last post that I didn’t feel like a foreigner in a country full of Koreans, I lied. In my first few minutes of being in B–i with 5-7 year-old kids running around, giggling and pointing at me, and with the other teachers (all Korean) hustling about reprimanding the children, in Korean, I felt like maybe I fell in the wrong rabbit hole. The school was loud. It was busy. It was very unlike my days at my former job where I worked in an office, by myself, in peace and quiet, and where people spoke English.

B–i is a private school, completely taught in English, opposed to my assumption that it was a school to only teach the children English. There are classes for Kindergarten-aged children (about 6 years old in American age – yes, there is a difference, look it up here), for children aged 7 years old, and in the afternoon, classes for children about 5 years old (in American age). Basically, they’re all fiesty, energetic, and did I mention loud? balls of cuteness. And they all speak English, understand English, and write in English – just as well as American kids their age. So what am I doing here?

I have a very special position in the school. My job is not to teach English as I had assumed, but…wait for it…to tell stories and do arts & crafts with the children. That’s right. Here I am, with a fresh Master’s Degree in Communication, on my hands and knees helping the children cut out holly out of green construction paper so they can make their Christmas wreathes. And the clincher is that I get paid more than the Korean teachers simply because I am a foreign teacher. The Korean teachers instruct the children on phonics and grammar and writing in English – you know, the hard stuff. And I, the foreign teacher, who help the kids color in pictures and turn on their imagination and tell them the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, get paid more simply because I am American. I can speak English without a Korean accent.

All the children call the teachers “Teacher.” Even the teachers call another teacher by “Laura Teacher;” the American name always precedes the title. This is custom in Asian languages. Usually, you call someone by name and their job title (or rank). When I told a couple kids my name (I said “Kristen Teacher”), they promptly asked me for my Korean name. My face does not lie. I pointed to myself and said “I am American.” And they giggled and ran away.

The teachers at B–i rotate classrooms. Classes are about 40 minutes long.  A bell chimes to indicate when the teachers rotate. I followed Tammy Teacher around (who I was replacing) and watched her struggle with a crate of coloring books, construction paper with origami peacocks loosely glued on them, a bag filled with candy (her treat to the kids on her last day), and wondered how I was going to manage. Not all the classes were working on the same projects. Some classes were drawing out a story they had read the week before, something about “Going on a Bear Hunt.” Other classes were learning about the difference of “big” and “small” and the word “not,” as in, “this is red, not black.” (I’m not sure where this fits in with arts & crafts or storytelling, but hey, I’m just here to teach.)

The children are darling. One little girl named Jennifer tugged on my pants chanting, “Teacher, teacher” and I looked down at her and in her outstretched palm was a piece of paper. It was her phone number. During snack time, two girls who saw that I wasn’t eating anything came up to me and gave me some of their snacks. It was the cutest thing ever. And I was grateful because I was starving.

I had to skip lunch because Stella, one of the Korean teachers, had to take me to the hospital so I could get blood work taken in order for me to get an Alien Registration Card. It is Korean law for anyone residing in the country for longer than 90 days must have an Alien Registration Card. I cannot open a bank account in Korea without one nor start phone service, etc. The hospital in Korea is amazingly efficient. My appointment was at 1:30 pm and I was seen at 1:30 pm. There was no waiting. We got to the receptionist desk, filled out paperwork, changed into a gown, and was immediately escorted into the 1st booth. There were 5 or 6 booths set up. One to take my blood pressure, weight, height and urine test. One to draw blood. One to take a chest X-ray. One to check my teeth (yes, they are very complete and I had to go to a different floor where Dental Care was). Finally I had to see a female doctor who asked about my history of illnesses, etc. I was out in 30 minutes. Amazing.

The doctors and patients occupied the same main room – the waiting room. There were tables at the back of the waiting room where the (doctors?) staff organized (bills?) letters and files. They worked on laptops while patients were seated waiting their turn. This mixing of work and waiting would never be seen in the states. Doctors work behind closed doors, completely separated from the patients.

All of the teachers at B–i are Korean. Even the foreign teachers are Korean. I am the only one who cannot speak nor understand Korean. The other 2 foreign teachers are Korean-American, both half Korean and half white, but they have one Korean parent so they grew up hearing the language and understand it. I wonder if I was hired because I am Korean. I have read about the divide of “Korean teachers” and “foreign teachers” and how often the 2 groups stay separate. I am not the type to “side” with one group over another but it will be interesting to observe the dynamics of the groups.

So far, everyone has been incredibly nice to me. I am looking forward to getting to know the children but am a bit hesitant to jump into these new waters. Monday will be a test.

I took the Korail to Suwon. Similar to Amtrak, but it offered more leg space than on American trains (!!). The whole trip was 20 minutes from Pyeongtaek. I decided to take the subway back to Pyeongtaek. What should have taken about 40 min. (I’m guessing here) took me more like an hour and a half. With the help of a Korean gentleman, I found the platform where I was to wait for the train. A couple stops later, that same gentleman motioned with his hand for me to get off. I was confused. Why get off when I was on the right train going in the right direction? Call it naivete or trust, but I obeyed. After asking a couple more gentlemen whether they spoke English, one said he spoke a little. Told me I was on the right platform for a train to Pyeongtaek. He told me there was a “better train,” one that rode “much faster” to Pyeongtaek. So, I found out there is an Express subway train. That was why the first guy told me to get off. I suppose. Who knows.

I made it to Pyeongtaek and were it not for the business cards that Michelle’s company made up for her, complete with address and a small map of our apt. with driving instructions in Korean on the back, I would still be at Pyeongtaek subway station. I hopped into the first taxi in queue at the station, proceeded to hand the driver the business card, and the elderly driver waved his hands and shook his head. I asked, in English of course, “No? You don’t go there?” Maybe I don’t read body language as well as I thought I did. I still have no idea why he was shaking his head and motioning as if to say “No.” But eventually, he said a word I recognized from our apt. address and I said, “Yes.” I should have said “Ne” which means “yes” in Korean, but regardless, I am now home.

So, back to the lessons learned today.

Koreans are very friendly, but curt people. The lady at the information booth at the subway station patiently explained to me why foreigners do not get membership cards for the rail system (like a frequent commuter card). Simply, you don’t save any money, or as she said, “make profit.” The gentlemen who helped me figure out the subway system were extremely polite. I was surprised when the first one found me on the train (I didn’t want to stand too close to him and make him feel like I was stalking him) to motion that I should get off at the next stop. I say Koreans are curt because they are. If they cannot understand me, they shake their heads and say something in Korean and that is that. I suppose what else could be said if they don’t know what the hell I’m talking about?

I find myself looking around for Americans. I was relieved to find a few American guys on the train home so I could ask them about the subway system. That’s how I found out about the Express subway train (which I was on). It is a relief to be able to speak and be understood.

That brings up an interesting point. Even though I am in a foreign place, where I cannot read a single sign (unless there’s an English translation), I do not feel out of place. I bring this up because I anticipated that I would feel out of place simply because everyone is Korean. This may not make sense, but there have been times when I felt out of place in a room full of Asian people. I attribute this to being raised in places where there are few Asian people. But I am smacked with the reality that I am a foreigner when I need to communicate with someone. That’s when I scan the crowd for a familiar face, an American face. I wonder if those American guys on the subway were surprised to hear me speak perfect English. It’s funny to think about.

I also caught myself seeking out men when I needed help. Why didn’t I approach any women? I assumed that men would be more confident speaking English. I was surprised at myself, seeing that I’m all for women’s rights and equality and independence. There must be some sociological study on this phenomenon.

I have organized them to the best of my ability and having only 3 sips of coffee (which tastes more like coffee-flavored water. Side note: most Koreans drink instant coffee and they like it. There are Costco-size packages of instant coffee in the grocery store! (Bill D. – you would not survive one day in Korea.)

On Driving:

There are very few rules of the road. Koreans drive on “the right side” of the road – what Americans are used to. The driver sits on the left side of the car and drives on the right side of the road. During normal conditions, traffic lights guide the drivers as to when they can go, they flash yellow to warn drivers to expect a red stop slight, and turn red when it is time for the drivers to stop. I repeat, during normal conditions, the drivers would stop. But, it is Korea here. And there are not always normal conditions. Here, drivers slow down when the light is red and if there is no immediate obstacle (i.e., oncoming car, a pedestrian within 10 feet), then they proceed to go through the red light. And that’s in the best case scenario. Many do not even slow down at a red light and just whizz by on their merry way.

There are cute little Tonka trucks on the highway. All the cars are black, white or silver/grey. On the way to Suwon (where I’ll be teaching), we followed a very old (and teeny) truck transporting 2 dairy cows. The truck rocked whenever the cows slightly lost balance. Below is a photo of that very truck. If you look to the right of the photo, you can see a blue Tonka truck.

dairy truck

On Recycling:

Koreans recycle everything. There are separate containers for plastic items, aluminum/tin items, paper items, glass items, and food. Yes, food. I assume the food scraps are used as compost for nearby vegetable fields (of which there are plenty) and contribute to the funkiness of the country. Side note: Pyeongtaek is more rural and there are random fields of lettuce and rice and hot red pepper crops.

There is also a bin for just plain trash. But what constitutes trash? To us Americans, everything is trash that is not distinctly tin, plastic, glass or newspaper.

It is a definite task to sort the trash after using any article. Where do tea bags go? Food or paper? What about used tissues? Paper or just trash? And styrofoam noodle containers – where do they go? (We just throw those in the plastic waste bin. If you have another suggestion, please let me know.)

On Shopping:

Shopping is BIG in Korea. There are tons of outlet stores, Target/WalMart type of stores, and mom & pop stores that looks like they’re selling second-hand everything. The highway and streets are studded with vendors selling oranges, puffed rice cakes, and whatever else.

When you check-out, the cashier always asks if you want a bag. In Korea, you pay for your bag. It comes to about 10 KWR (Korean Won) which is roughly 8 cents. So, we always decline the bag. In the larger grocery stores and dept. stores, there is an area near the entrance/exit where there are boxes and shipping tape for people to box their items – for free.

On Efficiency:

Koreans are efficient people. Everything is energy-efficient. The escalators in AK Plaza only move when there are people on them. Otherwise, they stand still. In our apartment, the hallway light automatically turns on when you enter the door and turns off when you leave the hall area. There is a setting on the heat/AC control for “going out” so the system automatically lowers the temperature of the apt. while we are away.

And since I’ve been here, I’ve always been given stainless steel chopsticks at restaurants. They are washed and reused instead of having to throw away millions of wooden chopsticks. Koreans are even trash-efficient! Note: This may not be good for those unfamiliar with chopsticks-use since metal and slippery noodles do not make a great sticky fit.

On Pyeongtaek:

I have described Pyeongtaek as more country than other areas I have seen, however, the downtown is still quite city-like. Here is a view of Pyeongtaek from the subway station that also houses AK Plaza, a 7-floor department store, similar to Macy’s, complete with a huge cinema that sells churros! and plays American movies:

the view from Pyeongtaek Subway Station's sky garden

Other Random Tidbit:

The sun in Korea, when it’s closer to dusk, looks like the sun in Asian movies. If you are familiar with martial arts movies or any movie that takes place in Japan or China, you’ll know what I’m talking about. In the movies, the sun is huge; it is orange; it is the most perfect sunset type of sun that makes your heart stop and and you turn to your passenger and gasp “Look at the sun! Isn’t it beautiful?!” Yep, that’s how the sun looks here. Like you’re in the movies. I took a picture, but it doesn’t give the real thing justice. Just take my word.

dusk in Gyeonggi-do province

Seoul/Incheon airport is huge, modern and representative of the proud quality that is embedded in Korean culture.

The highway reminded me of home. Funny how a road feels familiar. The only things that reinforced the unknown in my new home were mountains in the distance, the never-ending curves in the road, and distinguishably-funky-but-can’t-tell-from-what smells. My first impression of Korea? Korea stinks. Literally.

There are random smells of sewage, kimchee, gasoline, sulphur, and once I got a whiff of potatoes. You never know what your nose will come across while driving through the Korean country.

After a few hours of rest, I ventured into neighboring towns of Pyeongtaek (where I am living). Songtan (spelling?) is about 20-25 minutes away by car. A mini-NYC, it is filled with neon lights, big Korean signs, restaurants with more pungent smells, shops with music blasting onto the street, and a lot of young Koreans walking around eating seaweed-wrapped rice balls they bought from street vendors.

Michelle and I ate dinner at a Pizza Hut because both a Japanese restaurant and Canadien-style pub were packed. We will never eat at a Pizza Hut in Korea again.

First of all, the place was a mess. The service was a mess and the food was a mess. The waitresses scuttled around, frantic. They would have been fired if they were working in the U.S.

There were people huddled at the salad bar and I figured they must have good stuff, so we ordered the salad bar for 2, too. We only got 1 plate. When we asked for another plate, we were told (through universal hand motion language) that we share 1 plate and can go back and forth for more food. And boy, were the choices enticing! Corn flakes, whole baby bananas, jello mold squares, pickles, yogurt, iceberg lettuce, green salad dressing (we guessed it was kiwi dressing), sunflower seeds, smashed yellow who-the-hell-knows-what-that-is, and jalapeno peppers were our salad options. We piled our sad little salad onto our teeny salad plate.

Our margherita pizza topped off the whole experience. Instead of basil, there was lettuce arranged onto the center of the pizza, in beautiful formation, but IT WAS LETTUCE.

So, I learned a few lessons in my first day. Wear perfume to fight off bad smells. Don’t expect to get what you ordered at an American knock-off restaurant.

Don’t expect what you would expect in the U.S., period, because this is Korea, my friend.