Jen Films a Clip for Daddy-O

Here is a clip I filmed on my camera of the gang at Moe's, this really cool little dive bar with thousands of vinyls along the walls, located near Pusan National University. It was my first time there, and I loved that atmosphere. Dad, if you ever visit me here, this is one of the first places we'll go. I love you!



People in the video, from left to right: Marcus, Matt, Charles, Alana, Sarah, Hannah, and yours truly.

Jen Falls in Love

I’m really starting to love it here, I have to say. I told myself I didn’t have any choice but to like Korea, so I would go in with only a good attitude, but you can’t convince yourself to love something just because you’ve decided to only focus on the good things. And I really am loving it. The food is magnificent, I truly can’t say enough about it. The massive quantities of homemade street food, the various side dishes that come with every meal, the prevalence of delicious soups, the restaurants with grills in the middle of the table for all the different meats – it’s heavenly. And cheap. And the weather is gorgeous – they weren’t lying when they said that their autumn is the best season. Technically I haven’t been here to experience any other seasons, but this weather is perfect. Crisp and cool in the morning and the evening, and sunny and mild during the days. These are the types of days everyone revels over for about 1 week in the spring back home in Texas, but which always too quickly give way to the stifling heat of Texas summer. And it’s been this way for the entire 6 weeks I’ve lived here (can it only have been 6 weeks?). I dare say it’s actually gotten warmer these past couple of weeks even.

Some people questioned why I would leave such a ‘good’ job back home to cross the globe and make a fraction of what I was making before. You know, that depends on your definition of ‘good’. If it means I made a lot of money, then yes, I suppose it was a ‘good’ job. But if it means I do something day in and day out that I enjoy, that isn’t just a waste of 8 hours until I can leave for the day, only to return the next day to do the same meaningless work over again, then the answer is no, that job wasn’t a ‘good’ job for me. I spent too many days back then working for the weekend, too many workdays just watching the clock until I could go home with one more day under my belt so that after 5 days I could spend a mere 2 doing whatever I really wanted. I had to break that cycle.

I recently stated that I am involved in a passionate love affair with Life. And that is so much the truth. What does that mean? Does it mean that every day is sublimely happy, and that it’s never hard, and that nothing ever gets me down? No, of course not. Love affairs are seldom perfect, but they are always exhilarating and keep you guessing, keep you interested – if it were mundane, I wouldn’t be calling it an affair. More like a slow death sentence. Because I just can’t be on autopilot here. Everything is too new and too special for that, and it matters too much to me. And yeah, sometimes it would be nice; sometimes I’m exhausted and I don’t want to try, and it would be great to be able to just zone out - to put on my sweats and lay on the couch all day, as it were. But the trade-off is still WAY worth it, and you just keep pushing until the next day comes along, until Life whispers that next sweet nothing in your ear that reminds you why you fell in love with it in the first place.

Here there are no wasted days. Every day counts. Everything matters. I’m awake, and alive, even though it’s hard sometimes. Now, the difference is, it’s hard but I’m awake. Before, it was like I was sleepwalking and there was nothing that could wake me up, and when it was hard, what reason did I have to soldier on? Now, the worst day is still a day on another continent, in another life. It’s a different mindset, one I couldn’t have achieved in my old life because there are some things you just can’t know until you know.

And now, I know.

Jen Loves/Misses Her Family

Dear Family,

Thanks for the lovely card you sent me. Nobody has a family that can hold a candle to you - I know, because I devised a ranking system and you always win. It made my day to hear from you and especially to get the heartfelt message from Cleo (a paint-stamp of her paw print). I really appreciate the thought, although I bet it was Mom's idea, not yours Cleo. To show you my love, I wrote you this poem.

My Family Is Better Than Your Family
by Jen

Embarking on a journey with a sparkle in my eye
I packed a bag, said my farewells, as I prepared to fly.
I kissed my loved ones on the cheeks and said, I'll see you soon.
But mainly concentrated on the new phase of my moon.

I left to seek adventure, and to "change my life" and such.
But what I never realized is I'd miss them all so much.
I'm grateful for my family, and though we live apart,
No matter where I lay my head, home always has my heart.

I love you! I'm the luckiest girl in Korea. :)



I also got my new rice cooker from my school, and 2 books from Amazon today. What a wonderful Thursday. :)

Jen Wakes Up Disappointed

I had a dream last night that I walked past Oprah on the street and she stopped me and complimented me on my cowboy boots. I was sure she would make them one of her Favorite Things. And then I woke up. Bummer.

Humans are Wowed by Explosions

I got a bunch of videos of the fireworks on my digital camera, and yes, I realize that I could just as easily find some clip of fireworks on the internet, but this video is authentic. So to make it special, and because I'm a geek, I edited a bunch of the videos together using iMovie on my laptop, and for a first try at video editing I think it's pretty darn good. Of course, Maxine did most of the work, but still. I was there.

In this video: fireworks birds, my raspy voice, Celine Dion and Andrea Boccelli, my new, lovely friends from the UK Nichola and Clare, explosions.

Jen Watches Fireworks and Compares English and the Korean Language

Here's a special video I did specifically for Mom since she asked to hear my voice more often (oh, Mom, in all your years did you think you'd ever make such a request?). A bunch of us went to Gwangalli Beach on Saturday to watch the 5th Annual Busan Fireworks Festival. We had to get there early because there would eventually be over 1 million people on the beach (and all the beaches I've seen here are relatively small crescents of land, not long coastlines like in Barcelona, as you can see in the video)

Notice that Hannah calls me what sounds like "Jenna", but really it's a joke because one of the differences between the Korean language and English is that their words are basically not allowed to end without a vowel sound. That's why there are joke tee shirts around that say "I'm a Englishee Teacher", and why my principal will ask me if I've had 'lunchee' yet. It's just one of those nuances that makes the Korean language of Hangul different from English, and what makes teaching language interesting. But it also makes it hard for native Koreans to go from one consonant sound to another (example: sub-u-way and ice-u-cream) without inserting a vowel sound.

Incidentally, someone asked me why we Westerners butcher the Korean language, and I said I thought it was funny because I could ask the same thing about my students and English. The answer is simple - there are sounds in Korean that we just don't have in English, so after a lifetime of never having pronounced these sounds, it's really hard to learn now that I am set in my ways of speaking. And vice versa. For example, a commonly known mistake when Asians speak English is pronouncing R sounds like L's. That's because an R sound is pretty hard to pronounce if you have never had to do it before, and you may not think an L sounds like an R, but the way your mouth is shaped when you do it is pretty similar. Another thing I hear a lot is pronouncing F like P. As in "Jenny-Per", which I hear in the hallways constantly. There is no F sound in Hangul, but I find that this mispronunciation is less common in adults, and I think the reason is that it's much easier to correct because you can easier show what you're doing with your mouth. "Put your top teeth on your bottom lip and say F-F-F." I tell them. If you're going to call me by my first name, at least you're going to pronounce it correctly!

Or when the tables are turned, there are some sounds that English doesn't have (think the rolling R's in Spanish). There is a sound in Hangul that is closest to a combo of Z and J (which maybe sounds crazy but try it), and for some reason the only example of for this is when Moms say Target like Tarzjay. And by Moms, I mean my mom. And me - who am I kidding?

Another example that is really prevalent in Hangul is the a G sound that's sort of like a K sound, but softer than both. The softness is really hard for me to grasp since American English specifically is so harsh and guttural. So I butcher the language, but practice makes perfect, and I've only been here a month. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Jen Eats the Proverbial Crow

Since the dawn of time, our household has been making fun of Dad for being a softie. And I have obviously been at the forefront of this movement, as with most of the family taunting that goes on. I get the ball rolling, at least. That’s my job; I’m the one who won’t let you get away with anything. Val’s job is to be the sweetest little bleeding heart liberal and to laugh at our (my) jokes (thus avoiding almost any teasing, as it may happen), Ty’s job is to play music loudly, eat all the food, and get away with stuff Mom never would have let us do, and Carly’s job used to be to be the cutest baby sister ever, although she has taken over as family smart aleck in my absence. I think she may even be better at it than I am, but if I ever get zinged I just pull rank – I will never let her forget I’ve got 12 years on her. As for Mom, her job is to clean obsessively, take up for us all (but for Ty way more), and be the world’s best listener, and Dad’s job is to take us to the best shows, be the family ATM, and to tell long stories (slowly). Oh and also, to be the uber-sentimental one.

It all began when we were watching Disney’s Beauty and the Beast at the old, old house on Round Rock (which used to just be the old house, but it has been demoted since the family moved to Forney). It was the early 90s and we were all elementary school aged or younger (and Carly wasn’t even around yet). This was what I like to think of as the heyday of Disney films. They really had us in their clutches back then. The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Lion King – man, things were looking good for Michael Eisner and co. They couldn’t go wrong. We were buying what they were selling, that’s for sure.

The charm of Disney films was that even adults could enjoy them. It wasn’t like watching Barney with your child, where the incessantly stupid songs would get stuck in your head and you would slowly lose your will to live. Disney films were smart. Clever dialogue, heart-wrenching plots, real life themes, and humor that would go over a child’s head were deliberately inserted into Disney films by these genius writers to make the movies even more marketable. Hence, even our dear old Dad was watching B & the B with us and enjoying it too.

If you don’t remember how the movie ends, or somehow haven’t seen it, this is what happens (spoiler alert!). The Beast is turned human again at the very last second by falling in love and in turn winning the love of Belle, his prisoner, the usual beautiful Disney heroine. There’s a lot of hoopla and it’s got all the magical happy ending music and everything works out perfectly for Belle and the Beast (whatever his real name is). It’s touching, really. But I still remember looking up and seeing Dad’s face (and forehead) turning red and his eyes welling up with tears. At such a young age, crying out of joy was an unknown concept to me, so all I could say was, “Dad! Why are you crying?! It’s not even SAD.”

And so began a lifetime of taunting Dad for being sentimental – threatening not to have him walk me down the aisle at my (totally theoretical) wedding because I don’t want any blubbering, asking if he can handle it when we watch It’s a Wonderful Life. Because my heart has always been made of stone. I don’t cry at sad movies or Extreme Home Makeover or mesothelioma commercials where a man who has been blind for 40 years regains his sight. Because I’m hard.

Until now. Ugh. For the first 26 years of my life, those things were true. I prided myself on never shedding a tear. I was as cold as ice. But now, my ice-cold heart has melted, and I feel like I’m making up for lost time or something.

This manifested itself most recently this morning in my early class, when we were watching Disney film clips and putting mixed up song lyrics in order. The first song we did was “Circle of Life” from The Lion King. I had given the kids the lyrics all cut up and their job was to put them in order while the clip played, and whichever team got them in order first, won. I love activities like this, and so do the kids, so I’m just sitting there, patting myself on the back when I hear the opening strains of the song and the first words of the African chant the animals sing before the English words come on.

“Nants ingonyama!
Bagithi Baba!”

What a great song!, I think. What a wonderful movie, what a moving scene, it’s so amazing seeing all the animals and the sunrise, and the majestic King Mufasa with the baby Simba… – wait a minute! Then, lo and behold, I feel tears prick my eyes.

I didn’t outright cry or anything. I was able to get it together, but still, are you kidding me?! It’s 8:15 in the morning, and I’m moved to (almost) tears by a movie I have known since I was a child?! It’s like being potty-trained for your whole life and then suddenly having an accident. I can’t count on my sentimentality any more! Now not crying is like a skill I have to practice. This sucks. I usually like having feelings and stuff, but this has gone too far. Please, heart, don’t embarrass me, and in front of my students no less!

I would have kicked myself if I didn’t also find it hilarious.

So I have an apology to make, to both of my parents actually. To Dad, sorry about all those times I made fun of you for crying. But I bet stories like these make it up to you way better than this apology will. And Mom, sorry I laughed at you for putting “Circle of Life” on Nana and Granddaddy’s 50th Anniversary slideshow. Turns out it really is a sweet, sentimental song. I realized that the hard way.

And now you can both mock me for a change.



And here is a scene from the ABC show Modern Family that I think is hilarious. I'm so doing this when I adopt my Korean baby:

Dr. Fish - So it's not just a clever name

Anyone close to me knows it has long been my dream to have my flesh eaten by live animals. Well, now I can check that one off the list.

Yesterday, 4 friends and I went to a place called Dr. Fish to soak our feet in water teeming with little minnow-like fish who eat the dead skin off people’s feet. I was expecting a nail salon, but it was more like a very cute coffee shop which just so happened to house flesh-eating fish. It only cost 2,000 won (less than $2), although technically we were feeding their pets, so I thought they should let us come for free. But whatever, I let it go. It was glorious – a little ticklish right at first, but you got used to it.

Below is a video that I filmed while we were there. I apologize for turning the camera on its side, I wasn’t thinking straight, possibly because I was filled with glee at the thought of clean fresh feet. Meet my friends Marcus, Sarah, Hannah, and Mike. Mysteriously, the fishies liked Marcus’s feet the best for some reason, those little gluttons.

Video View of Cho Jang Middle School

I took this the first week of class and forgot about it. It's brief, but I think it better shows the view from the front steps of my 'work'. Happy Friday!

P.S. For all those concerned about Maxine, she was unharmed. And the internet was not working when I got home yesterday, so I guess that's par for the course.

The Great Internet Debacle of 2009

Today when I woke up, I was certain the sky was bluer, the streets smelled better, and I could hear "I'm Walking on Sunshine" playing happily in my head. You see, today was the day I was getting internet installed in my apartment.

I had lived without it for 2 weeks, but somehow I'd made due. Sometimes I would randomly get a weak connection from within my apartment, but it was always hit or miss. I felt like the travelers on the Oregon Trail must have felt, never knowing what each day would bring. Would I find a signal today? Or would I have to make the treacherous journey down to the coffee shop on the corner, risking smallpox and dysentery, or possibly breaking the heel of my shoe, the modern day equivalent of a broken wagon wheel? And what's worse, I had to cope with the agony of wondering, would the coffee shop even be open? Would I be able to find a seat near a power outlet? The questions plagued me daily, and the uncertainty haunted my dreams.

So today was the big day. I would finally be able to fulfill my dreams of whiling away the hours on Facebook, watching Family Guy, listening to The Ticket, and reading The Onion, as god intended it.

You can imagine my surprise and distress when my co-teacher received a call from Internet Installer Guy this morning asking if my computer was in my apartment. I answered yes, trepidaciously, because why would he want to know that? I was immediately filled with what I imagine mother's protection instinct to be like.

I don't have any pets, and my laptop is the closest thing to one.* Yes, of course she has a name, it's Maxine. What would I call her if she didn't have a name? Laptop? You wouldn't expect me to call my offspring Kid, would you? That would be absurd. Unless I was Kidd Kraddick's mom, I guess, but I still maintain that the name is pretty ridiculous.

So for whatever reason, Internet Installer Guy was trying to get onto Internet Explorer on Maxine, and he couldn't because Maxine is a Mac (hence the name) and Macs don't have Internet Explorer, they have Safari. Apparently there are not very many Macs here in Korea, so he didn't know what Safari was. After a lot of confusing conversation between Mrs. Kim and me and then back to Internet Installer Guy, he eventually left my place. Mrs. Kim said I should bring my laptop to school the next day and have the computer teacher figure out what I needed to do.

This distressed me for numerous reasons. First, I didn't understand why he needed to even touch Maxine to install a modem in my apartment. I had always been under the impression that you just need to flip a switch or something and then my place would be wired for internet, and all I would have to do is plug in. Second, it was especially frustrating because it was a test day here at school, so I wasn’t doing anything other than being held hostage in the teachers’ lounge anyway, looking up stuff on the internet. Thirdly, trying to explain the existence of numerous types of web browsers to my computer illiterate co-teacher with my limited computer knowledge + the language barrier was like a comedy of errors. (She even asked me if I had ever even gotten on the internet with my computer - I guess since I didn't have Internet Explorer she thought that might have been an impossibility - and I was like, PLEASE, of course I have.) Except it stopped being funny when I realized that lastly, I wasn't getting internet on my big day.

Disappointment consumed me, but I was down, but not out. I had lost a limb, but I was still trekking along with the Willamette Valley in my sights, determined not to let a little thing like typhoid dissuade me. After I had explained the concept of the Safari compass and where it was located on the screen, I had heard Mrs. Kim mumble something about 'drivers' and I thought, there is no way in hell I am letting this man touch Maxine's drivers. He didn't even know how to get to the internet on my computer - what kind of mother do they think I am? I wouldn't let a veterinarian operate on my son, and I wasn't going to let this guy touch the drivers on my Mac. Luckily another of my co-teachers offered to call Internet Installer Guy back after this first failed attempt and told him that if he could just install the modem, I could figure the rest out.

So that's where I stand. Haven't been home yet, don't know what I will find there. At this point I will consider myself lucky if Maxine is unharmed, but I am hoping against hope that I will have made it to my goal destination. If not, I'll have to spend another few days trying to catch that weak signal, or as I like to think of it, using flint and stone to make fire somewhere out on a lonely western prairie.

*Not including my favorite purse, Fluffy, and my iPhone, Penny.

Home, Sweet Ho

I finally got somebody to tell me what my address here in Busan is, in English. I am fairly sure that if anyone sends me something using the English address, it will make it to me. As you can see, in Korea the addresses are written in opposite order of the way they are written in the US, with the biggest area first (city), then going down to neighborhood, building, then finally apartment number. Honestly, since I was a (very nerdy) child, I have always thought that is the way it should be, so it makes perfect sense to me this way. Well, at least when it's written in English.

So here it is:

South Korea, Busan, Seo-gu
Bumin-dong 3ga 34-3
Mungak Building, 410 ho
602-842


부 산 광 역 시 서 구
부 인 둥 3가 34-3 문 각 원 룽 401
최 욱 환 (주 인) 귀 하
602-842

The funny thing is, back home in the States, putting your address up on your blog would be completely unsafe and unheard of, but I defy even one person who lives in Korea to find me using this thing. It's like a scavenger hunt, even for lifelong residents of this town, because buildings are often unmarked and the street addresses don't always go in numerical order. This makes me think that the postmen are really ninjas with superhuman brain power. Or just total masochists.

NANTA Jams in Seoul

Here is a video I found online of the Korean cooking/ percussion/ comedy show NANTA, one of the best and funniest shows I have ever seen.

Ouch, My Seoul Hurts

Seriously, that's the last Seoul joke. I couldn't help it.

Here is the account of the rest of our time in Seoul. We had one day of presentations about various things we as EPIK (English Program in Korea) teachers would need to know, such as the opening ceremony where a traditional Korean performance team played drums (which seemed a little loud in light of the previous day's activities), a lecture on Korean history and Culture by multilingual language teacher and Korean native Hyunwoo Sun, and another lecture on Culture Shock and EPIK Life by a former EPIK teacher, Eddie Young. All of these were really great - super interesting and engaging - which came as a little bit of a pleasant surprise.

What came as a not-so-pleasant surprise was how some of my fellow countrymen behaved in these presentations and towards the presenters. First, a little background about Korea. In the Korean culture and language, politeness is extremely important. There are even two different sets of words for if the speaker is desiring to show great respect to the listener, versus being more comfortable with the person they are speaking to, and thus not necessitating such a high level of politeness. One way this politeness manifests itself is that the Koreans really won't tell you not to do something, even if that thing is against the rules. For example, when we were at the art museum I could tell they didn't want us to take pictures, but they wouldn't tell us not to because that would be rude (I just took photos with the flash off, since I believe this is the reason photography is prohibited). Another example is how after 2 nights of dozens of EPIK teachers drinking beers in and around our dorm building, they finally announced in our class that we were not allowed to have alcohol on campus, even though the security guard had been right there the entire time. I think he just would have considered it rude to ask people not to, even though it was the rules and he was clearly within his rights to say something. And I think people were drinking because they thought they could, or else he would have said something.

So of course, to every yin there is a yang. Americans are apparently the yang in this scenario. I think probably most other foreigners have an inherently less polite culture than Korea, if only because
politeness is SO VERY important here. I understand that. But still,
there comes a point when it's not just "Korea being polite", it's
Americans being impolite. Being the so-called Ugly Americans I dread
having to call my fellow citizens.

I was literally amazed at some of the things I heard people say and do
during the presentations. Yelling out, demanding air conditioning.
Clapping loudly when the presentation had run a little long so the
presenter would end. Yelling out "You know what would be really
helpful?..." to a man who knows 7 languages at the age of 27 and who
was currently teaching us Korean. Yeah, there's a chance on Earth
that HE doesn't know what would be really helpful, but you do. Sure.
Rudely asking why we aren't getting paid for this mandatory weekend in Seoul, never mind that we missed 3 days of work and got a free trip to
have a blast in Seoul which included sightseeing and a performance by NANTA, which was amazing. Who do these entitled, demanding, rude
people think they are?! And since when does Korea owe them
something? And what makes them think they know everything?

Of course, when I would hear this extreme rudeness, was it in a
British accent? Was it in that beautiful, lilting South African
accent that I adore? Did it include the word 'aboot' and end with the
word 'ey'? No. It was in an easily recognizable, ugly American
drawl. Lovely. I personally went up and apologized to each presenter
that I felt had been visited on by an Ugly American. It was the very
least I could do, and I hope it showed that we are not all mannerless.

I really hope Koreans don't base their opinions of America on just
these negative experiences. We wonder why we hear stories about other
countries hating us, and surprise, surprise, maybe they even have a
valid reason. After this, I don't even like us very much.

Seoul Searching

One of my favorite things about Korea is all the opportunities for puns.  Maybe that seems silly, but I need a little humor in my life (believe it or not) and when we went to Seoul last weekend, there were about a million soul/Seoul jokes flying around.  We're just lucky that we live in Busan so the Seoul jokes are still funny.  And punny.

So, Angela, Chris, Eric and I headed to Seoul on the KTX (the bullet train) on Friday morning bright and early.  We were all excited about the trip because we would be off work Friday-Tuesday, and I was even more excited because trains are my favorite way to travel.  When I was riding, I wished I could call my little brother circa 1991 and rub it in his face.  Man he used to love trains, but did he ever get to ride one?  And across the magical faraway land of Korea, no less?  I think not.  It would have been even better if I had remembered to wear my Osh Kosh Begosh blue-and-white striped overalls.

Anyway, we got to Seoul in about 3 hours, and I was doing that thing where I revel at the fact that I have never stood in this exact spot on Earth ever before.  I think I was annoying my friends, but that's what I like to do when I go new places.  It doesn't get old.  We rode the Seoul subway to the school where we were staying and checked into our rooms, where I met my roommate Jami.  Luckiest roommate pairing ever!  Jami is from Canada, and we all know I love Canadians -  after all, my beautiful favorite friend in Barcelona, Holly, is from Vancouver.  By this point, it's about 12:45 and we don't have anything going on until dinner time, and then after that we just have the opening ceremony in the morning, so we are free to explore the city.

So instead of doing that, we just take the group of about 12 of us who are there by that point and go looking for a place to grab a beer.  As I'm sure I said many times that day, there are few things better than day-drinking.  The reasons are countless, but included in them are the fact that if you're drinking during the day, you're definitely not at work, and it means you're ready to have fun.  Basically, you are 100% guaranteed a good time, and this day was no exception.  Plus we were with new, cool friends, in a new city on the other side of the globe.  What's not to like?  

The little nuances of different countries are fun to discover (most of the time), and what seemed like an unfortunate one at the time was that bars don't open until night, like around 6pm.  But when the Universe closes a door, it opens a window.  This time, the window was the fact that while unlike at home, bars are not open at 11am, also unlike at home, you can drink in public.  So we just went to the Family Mart and got some 1600ml beers and hung out in this random alleyway, getting to know each other.  

I met Jake and Tori, also Canadians (that seems to be the biggest foreign contingent here in Korea because apparently it's pretty hard to get a job in Canada, at least in teaching), and very fun kids.  I also met Chaz and Kate, Iowanonians (that may not be the correct expression), who are so super fun and who live near Angela and Chris here in Busan.  Then there was of course the roommate Jami, then Ashlea and Hope, our next-door neighbors in the dorm.  And we were just the early-comers, there were dozens of more people to meet, but these were the people we spent our first few hours in the Seoul with.  It was a great start to a fantastic trip,  and I'll not forget the afternoon spent in a random alleyway in Korea with some of my new Seoul mates.  :)