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| I'm not excited about my foreigner card being removed from my deck in a few days. It's been a great safety. I guess for all the things I can't do because I don't understand or just don't know about, my automatically excused ignorance makes up for.
Being an American in South Korea comes with privileges. Strangers leaving a restaurant at the same time as me offer to take me home. I don't have to take a number at the bank or post office. Solicitors pass me by without handing me fliers. I get lots of odd gifts. Every other person on the street says "hello" to me.
Okay, that one I no longer enjoy. Because it's prefaced with "waygookin" or foreigner, and followed with something endearing like, "big nose" or "ET eyes."
I've played the foreigner card at work all year long and works so well I'd go all in. But it's a good thing I didn't take that bet, because last night, my foreigner card lost. And lost bad.
I was reprimanded, nay, yelled at by my principal. A lecture entirely in Korean. The gist I gathered -- he thinks I'm leaving Korea three days too early because the end date he wrote on my contract is in fact, three days after I am leaving. However, the ignoramus fails, nay, refuses to understand that my Visa, which is the only legal way I'm in this country, expires the very day I am leaving. There's so more to this story concerning pay, but I hardly can keep it straight what's going on that I won't shed those details.
Prinicpal, my "co-teacher", who I never co-teach with nor speaks comprehendable English, and I were sitting on the floor at a table. Like you would at most tables in Korea. Since I didn't understand the language, I picked up on other things. For instance, the principal's voice started out reasonably toned, and like a crescendo it got both louder and more angry in a span of about 40 minutes.
My "co-teacher" dared interject a thought, avoiding eye contact, as is the Korean custom when you're being yelled at, and while interjecting, the principal gets off the floor. I suppose he didn't want the lines to be blurred about whether or not he was talking down to us, he could literally show us that, yes, he was.
"Co-teacher" starts saying something else and the principal leaves the room. Mid-sentence.
I try to be respectful and understanding of cultural differences; there certainly are many. But I think acting like, how do you say... a little baby girl, translates as little baby girl in any culture.
This was by far the strangest experience in Korea I've ever had. Just in time... in case the other strange experiences needed to be topped before I leave. No small feat. With the time when I was told I quote, "look like a man of oriental mind" coming in a distant second. And the breaking and entering, see previous post about kid caper, coming in third.
Foreigner card, well-played. We had a good run and I will miss you.
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| Psych!! I'm actually not returning to Korea after the summer afterall. It literally changed the day after I wrote the previous post. Life likes to surprise me. Or I like to surprise life. I totally got you, didn't I?! | | |
| I haven't been to America in 49 weeks. I am 1/22 Asian.
Because I'm 22, you see. And one year was spent entirely in Asian countries. Maybe I can get an Asian card and get free school supplies from Wal-Mart.
And if that only applies to Indians, they're racist.
Obviously, I am anticipating my return with great enthusiasm. If I weren't returning to Korea at the end of the summer, I'm sure my emotions would primarily be invested in saying my goodbyes, seeing what's left of Korea to see and lining up whatever would come next. But I AM coming back, which means the two months of America-time will be quite the party.
I use the term "party" loosely, mind you. Nevertheless, some of it's connotations are accurate. Like vacation. I'm going to Myrtle Beach with bff Rene for a week, where our plan is to not plan anything at all, but instead lay on the beach and drink fruity concoctions from exquisite glasses and eat crab legs and oysters and talk profoundly of the our life's ailments.
Also will be in Michigan with the entire family for a week at my sister's house. I'd say that about evens the playing field... a solid week, including car travel time, surely compensates for a year away. Actually, I really miss them and like that we all like each other so I think it will be a good time.
I'm also going to be a sponsor for my church's youth camp, which should be interesting. I went to the same camp not long ago at all. I guess some things you don't have to be too-far-removed to be on the flip-side of it.
Then in between are small ventures, reconnecting with college friends, maybe high school friends, and adventures in Coffeyville on a bicycle.
I sold my car before I came to Korea last year and I'm not going to buy another until I'm in the States for a projected long period of time. Which means I can either borrow my mom's cell phone when I leave the house so I can call her and have her pick me up, or I can NOT be a sorry loser and ride my bike.* Which is not only conveniently practical, but makes me less of a hypocrite for making my unpopular remarks about gas consumption. Two birds. One stone.
*(Times they are a-changin'... yeah, you thought it was the sorry losers
who DID ride their bikes. You may be further tickled to learn I'm also going to wear a helmet.)
Maybe if you are my friend I can see you sometime, too.
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| I cut about 7 inches of hair off my graying head because my friend
told me that boys, with the exception of one in particular, like long
hair.
You read right.
I’m in a hippie-esque phase recently. I thought cutting my hair would be a symbol of my liberation from The Men.
Instead I just feel like I want a weave. Spare hair, if you will.
I also have had a lot of time riding different buses and metros to
think about a public transportation solution in America. I think having
that thought alone makes me hippie by Midwest standards.
This is where I’m going to transition to Korea.
In Korea it is just expected that you recycle. At Starbucks, for
example, there is a spot to dump liquids, a spot to dispose of the cup,
a separate place for the sleeve and another for general trash. Also,
you have to pay extra for a disposable cup.
And that’s not just because Starbucks is progressive. It’s because they’re trying to keep up with Korean expectation.
It does make for a complicated departure, but just involved enough
that everytime I disassemble my mango passion fruit tea-based frap it makes me think. Korea is a conglomeration of an
obviously foreign, dichotomized mindset that I will never understand.
Kinda like that sentence to you, maybe. Kinda like America to Koreans.
It’s been a lot of things living a year as a foreigner. Thrilling,
scary, confusing, frustrating, life-changing, funny, lonely,
surprising. Thinking about going home next month for the summer and
trying to form an easy to response to the inevitable question, “How’s
Korea?”
To which I will feel like saying, “If you’re really interested in how Korea is, I must recommend that you visit.”
But understanding that we like to ask questions like this to be
polite and not so much sincere, I guess I should include the highlights
with a few lowlights thrown in, just to keep it real.
The reason I even began writing today, ending my hiatus, was because I had such a fantastic day. May I tell you about it?
My friends Tyler and Deanna came and spent the night at my house
last night. (I have the biggest/nicest house of the three of us. That’s
not bragging. We didn’t chose our housing.) We had a The Office
marathon. Today we went to a tea house in my town for the first time.
It was really traditional and complicated to explain. But we sipped
green tea served by an older woman who was confused by our presence in
the tiny little town’s tea shop. Then walking back up the mountain to
my house, came upon a new restaurant that serves fried chicken. And the
best part, you can dine outside under an umbrella and drink Coke from
the bottle — the very reason I love Thailand so dearly. Also, the owner spoke
English, which NEVER happens where I live and gave me the number to
call to have it delivered to my house.
A tea shop, which we equated to Starbucks — my second reference —
and a restaurant with recognizable food, served by a man who speaks my
language in my favorite dining atmosphere IN my town, makes for a
fantastic day.
I’ve made the mistake of using this blog as a release for my
frustration with living here, among other things, but don’t let me
allude you — I’m coming back for another year, after all. And I'm also a happy girl who doesn't hate people as much as it seems.
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| i hope the price of gas never goes down. in fact, i hope it goes up. and if i were running for office, this would be my platform.
alternate fuel sources. public transportation solutions.
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