An American Love Affair

This is a post that I've been considering for many months. It's one that's bound to provoke heated reactions from certain groups of people and quick judgments from others, so I ask you this: If you are easily offended by constructive criticism, please don't read this entry. It really is as simple as that. I'm not here to instigate a fight and have no interest in discussing politics. What I am interested in doing is sharing an opinion about a situation in Korea that even their national educational networks have questioned in the past six months.


The Sun Rises and Sets With America - For Koreans


For the first two years at my school, we had two Kiwis and myself (a South African) as the native English speakers. While my school never told any of us to use American accents in lessons - they even allowed us to use British spelling - there were always murmurings of how the school "needs an American teacher." Why? Why was an American teacher "needed?" If anything, the students needed to be exposed to the other Englishes of the world. What could an American do that we couldn't?


Two years later, one Kiwi left and the unicorn arrived: The school finally had it's American teacher. Part of me was tempted to ask if we commoners of the English world were expected to bow, scrape and grovel in his presence since apparently he was a better teacher than us by sheer virtue of his nationality. He can do no wrong. He's never at fault and any disputes with him as a native speaker are firmly the fault of the other party. Why? Because he's an American. At least, that's the reason that is never quite voiced but always hinted at. It's not entirely his fault though.


Now, before I continue, I want to clarify that this post is NOT to bash Americans. I have many - ok, some - American friends and, yes, I have spent some time in the US - 6 months to be exact. The way that Americans are viewed in Korea is more to do with the pedestal that Koreans have placed them on rather than the people themselves. Somehow, America has come to be seen as faultless, which is greatly ironic considering how derogatory so many Korean people can be of the American teachers here.


The Prejudice


There is a very strong prejudice in Korea that American teachers - or American educated teachers - are better than those from anywhere else in the world. Unless you happen to have graduated from Oxford or Cambridge, a degree from a non-American (and some Canadian) university is seen as little more than a certificate of some irrelevant course. Somehow, this makes us less qualified than our American counterparts even if we hold more relevant and higher qualifications for the job.


So many of the job advertisements in Korea either openly state "American and Canadian teachers only" or they subtly inform applicants of this with the less openly racist comment of "Bachelors degree from a North American university." Really? You would rather hire someone with little to no teaching experience - and possibly even a degree not related to education or even English studies - simply because they were born in the right country? A country that, let's face it, doesn't automatically have a superior education system all-round although it has many top-quality institutions.


KiwiKat once told me that a recruiter was very keen to help place her in a job because she's extremely experienced - she's taught in Korea for 11 years - and is actually a qualified teacher. She was perfect for just about any job but being from New Zealand was a serious mark on her resume because her accent wasn't "right." It wasn't until she got him on the phone so that he could hear just how neutral - and lovely! - her accent is that he agreed to bat for her. It's disgusting that credentials are insufficient in the face of an accent.


My favourite job posting was with a recruitment company that stated, in bold letters, at the top of its home page:
                    1. You MUST be from a country where ENGLISH is the ONLY official language.
                    2. Only NORTH AMERICAN teachers may apply.
My first response when I saw this? Morons. Not only are they being racist - racism does NOT only refer to skin colour - but they haven't even bothered to do their research. Anyone with half a brain cell and an internet connection could tell you that the second requirement negates the first one. The company would have looked less idiotic if they had said that only Bigfoot, Nessie, unicorns, dragons, and other mythical creatures may apply.  If you're not quite understanding why yet, I'll spell it out: North America consists of the U.S.A., Canada and Mexico. The third one is easy: Mexico uses Spanish. However, the U.S.A. has NO official language although English is widely used and Canada has TWO official languages. Thus, based on requirement 1, only teachers from England actually qualified.


Discrimination


EBS, the national educational network in Korea, did a four-part investigation into exactly this in November 2013. They looked at why schools and parents prefer American teachers and accents as well as if teachers from other countries have experienced discrimination when applying for jobs in Korea. The responses to both of these questions were overwhelming: For the first, after interviewing parents and teachers, the reason was little more than "it's the accent we're used to and what we hear on TV" while an overwhelming "YES" was the response to the second question.


Have I experienced discrimination? Yes. In applying for university positions - with four years of university teaching experience in SA, 3.5 years at a top level high school in Korea, a total of 10 years of teaching experience and a Masters degree in Applied Linguistics (specializing in ESL) - I was consistently told that "I was not quite what they were looking for." Ironically, I recently met someone who was appointed in one of the positions for which I applied and I asked him what his qualifications are: A BComm in Accounting with 4 years of teaching in a vocational high school in Korea - and American. He didn't graduate from a top university in the U.S. either, but apparently he was what they were looking for. What, aside from an accent, made him better suited for the job?


As a side note, I - and many other non-Americans - have experienced more difficulty with Americans not understanding other Englishes and accents than anyone else. We've had to repeat ourselves numerous times, slow down our speech and simplify our language in many situations for many Americans to understand what we're actually saying. In contrast, we're all familiar with both American and British spellings as well as Americanism because we're exposed to them daily. This doesn't make our English wrong or worse, though.


Sure, some accents are harder on the ear and can be very thick but American accents are not all high society and polished either! Have you heard those southern accents? What about the strong New York accents? Many American accents can sound extremely abrasive, abrupt and, to be honest, somewhat rude simply because of volume and the way some people speak. There are also many flaws in the American education system just like there are flaws in the Korean systems and those in other countries.


The answer is not quite as simple as telling someone to go home if they don't like the situation and yet, this seems to be the acceptable solution. Even my boyfriend, who considers himself to be open-minded and who lived in America for 10 years, constantly tells me how wonderful America is. He idolises the country and yet he can't tell me what the U.S. does that makes it so fantastic. In addition, he seems to have little interest in travelling abroad unless it's back to America. I don't understand how people can be so narrow-minded.


The Outcome


Korea is going to drive away well-qualified and highly experienced teachers if it persists with its superficiality and limited views of what to consider when appointing EFL teachers. In my case, I'm simply tired of being the go-to native English teacher at my school while people fall over themselves in their desire to be as American as possible.


Being American doesn't mean that you can teach English anymore than having a degree does. It's time for Korea to get over this one-sided love affair and obsession that they have with America and start focusing on what's really important. This is true of other areas of Korean society: Attending Seoul National University does not mean that you are smarter or better than someone who graduates from a lower ranking university. Being "beautiful" does not make you better and the unhealthy drive to achieve external beauty here is concerning to say the least. Big eyes, an oval face and weighing 40kg doesn't make you better than the person next you; if anything, it probably means you have less self-confidence and consider appearance to be your only strength.


In looking for a new job, I saw a post for a company that presents itself well on paper - until you look at their website! They seem to hire only female staff, which is not a problem in itself. However, the staff are introduced dressed in two outfits: a short black skirt with white blouse and a group photo in which they're all dressed in dresses (presumably of their own choice) that seem to serve no real purpose other than to emphasize their appearance and figures. My reaction? I won't even consider working for a company where the appearance of the staff seems more important than the ability to do the job. Accents are similar to this.


I truly hope that Koreans grow up and start to place emphasis on the important things like a quality education with highly-qualified staff rather than staff who come from the country that you perceive to be better than all others. After all, an American accent isn't going to stop you from speaking English poorly; it's just going to help you to speak poorly with an American accent.

Moving Day (3 September)

Moving day is finally here!  As of today, I no longer have to worry about mould in my apartment and although I’m still dreading the schlep of moving, at least the end is in sight.  Catfish arrives at 8:30am to help me pack the last of my things.  Again, I can’t believe how many things I now have. 

I’m anticipating having to carry boxes myself but two ajeoshis arrive with big baskets into which we pack several small boxes, bags and loose items to move more conveniently.  Catfish, M and I don’t have to do anything apart from clarify what has to be moved and where.  When they move my desk and bookshelf, I’m dismayed to see that the backboards of both of these are completely covered in mould.  I have already cleaned the mould off of the front surfaces of these but I didn’t think to check the back of these.

It takes about 90 minutes to load everything onto the two trucks and I decide to simply close my eyes and trust that everything will be fine as the three of us head to my new apartment.

New Home

At the new apartment, it takes a little less time to move everything despite the apartment being on the 10^th floor.  My bed is disassembled and re-assembled for me, my couch is set up and boxes are placed in the correct rooms.  I’ve been dreading the move but it’s been a total breeze thus far and is well worth the 200,000 won that I pay.  Unpacking everything, on the other hand, is a completely different story.

My new landlady is a Korean English teacher who is currently living in Singapore.  Since she intends returning to Korea at some point, the apartment is partially furnished, which is a major advantage.  I now have a queen sized bed in the main room and my original bed is in my new guestroom.  I also have great wall-to-wall wardrobes in the main room.  It’s a three bedroom apartment with a separate lounge area, which is a bit big for a single person but it’s great to have so much space around me again.  The kitchen cupboards, however, are almost completely full as all of my landlady’s crockery is stashed in the cupboards. 

M has to leave as soon as the movers are done with everything but Catfish is my slave for the afternoon.  I hate organising kitchens and am relieved that Catfish doesn’t mind doing this while I get to work unpacking other boxes in my bedroom and study.  Of course, moving wouldn’t be quite the same if at least one box weren’t dropped: Murphy’s Law dictates that the only box to be dropped today is the one containing all of my plates and bowls.  At least my landlady has copious amounts of these that I can use in the interim.

Stressors (19 August)

As predicted, the mould is already re-appearing through the new wallpaper in my bedroom and it continues to grow on every possible surface in my apartment despite my conscientiously airing out my apartment at every possible moment.  The situation is beginning to depress me and I am aware that I’m not currently pleasant company.  In an effort to minimise the spread of mould, Catfish offers to let me store some things at her apartment until I move.  She offers me the short hallway in her tiny apartment and I’m amazed at how much stuff I have accumulated in the past year.

On top of the mould situation, I am trying to sort out a few unresolved issues with my previous job.  I’ve had an ongoing salary dispute with my previous employer in SA since January of 2009 and I’ve now been told that I’m being blacklisted by the government’s credit bureau.  Without getting into too many details, I have done all that I can, with the help of my mom who is a school principal in the same district as my former school, to resolve this dispute; my former school now has to finalise the situation.  Naturally, resolving such an issue from halfway around the world is not ideal particularly when the school had already been avoiding the issue when I was still in SA.  After nearly three years, I just want this matter to be closed and I hate that I have to send such strongly worded emails to my former school but it is my good name that is being besmirched by this incident.

Sometimes, I really wish that I could just resign from adulthood and all responsibilities…

Samsung Orphanage, Jeonju & Liberation Day (13 - 14 August)

Having recently paid key money when signing the lease on my new apartment, I can’t afford to sign up for a sea kayaking trip in Namhae with AK this weekend.  I’ve been told that Namhae is the place to go kayaking in Korea and the photos of the area look amazing.  With a bit of luck, AK will have the same trip next summer and I’ll be able to sign up then.  Fortunately, I have other plans to keep me engaged on this rather hot Saturday. 

Volunteering at Orphanages in Jeonju

Several months ago, I came across a group on Facebook called Jeonju Neighbourly, Neighbourly, which volunteers between four local orphanages in Jeonju alternating each month.  I’ve wanted to join one of their trips for a while and today is the perfect opportunity to do so.  We meet at a coffee shop in Jeonju at 13:00 to discuss basic strategy before heading Samsung Orphanage.  At the orphanage, the kids are genuinely delighted to see us and eager to play games.  We set up a few games indoors and some of us head outside to play soccer and badminton.  I’m not much of a soccer fan but, unable to convince a kid to play badminton with me, I find myself playing soccer with three eager boys. 

As the afternoon goes on, I become increasingly aware that the other NET volunteers around me are mostly elementary school teachers who have picked up a fair amount of Korean as a result of their students.  I, on the other hand, cannot really communicate with the kids at the orphanage and I feel a little frustrated with myself and my own limitations.  I honestly thought that I’d be able to speak more Korean than I currently can by this stage of my contract.

The two hours spent playing with the children at the orphanage seem to pass very quickly.  There’s a good selection of balloon animals, halli galli, jacks, bowling, and a few other games.  Most importantly, the kids seem to have a good time playing, and I’m impressed by the commitment of my fellow volunteers, many of whom do this monthly.

Long Weekends

Fortunately, with Liberation Day on Monday, we have yet another long weekend.  After being closed for several months, our local Subways has just re-opened and Catfish and I head there for lunch on Sunday before hanging out in Angel-in-us.  At dinner time it’s back to Hoa Binh and we realise once more that we’re certainly creatures of habit when it comes to restaurants and places to hang out.  Before heading back to Catfish’s apartment to watch The Smurfs online, we make a quick pit stop at Lotte Mart for some wine and snacks, which probably don’t help when we start thinking just how inappropriate some of the dialogue is in a childhood cartoon now that we’re adults.

Fixing the Mould (3 August)

For a brief moment, I feel a bit demanding when I commandeer Mr Jeong’s attention within 10 minutes of his entering the office.  I had just been speaking to the Head of the International Department about the mould problem and telling her that I am not even sleeping in my own apartment at the moment because the mould has become so bad.  As an asthma sufferer, the situation has become even more unhealthy than it already was. 

I feel a bit bad at the prospect of having to phone Mr Jeong while he is on leave when he suddenly arrives mid-afternoon.  Not on leave as I had thought, he is actually attending compulsory summer workshops and has decided to skip the afternoon lectures in order to prepare for that evening’s lessons that he has to give at school.  With one look at my expression, he accurately assesses just how bad the mould problem has become and promptly contacts my landlord to find out what is happening with regard to the mould situation in my apartment.

In what I presume is an effort to save face, my landlord comments that the repair person has been around to my apartment several times in the past two weeks but I’m never home.  Considering that he knows I’m a teacher and he knows that I teach across the road from my apartment, I find this an unlikely story – even more so considering that I was home for a substantial part of the first of those two weeks!  Thankfully, I receive confirmation that evening that they’ll be coming to my apartment on Wednesday morning to fix the problem.

Repairs: Korean Style

At 8:00am on Wednesday morning, I’m ready and waiting.  True to his word, my landlord arrives and gives me a bottle of some strong chemical with which to clean the mould that has resurfaced in my apartment.  As for the mould in my bedroom, I’m relieved to see that the mouldy wallpaper is being stripped away and am curious to see how, exactly, they’ll be treating the mould.  When I see the woman start cutting all of the edges of the wallpaper in my bedroom, I’m confused until I notice the new wallpaper on the floor and realise that they will be re-papering the room after treating the mould.

An hour later, however, I’m horrified to discover that “treating the mould” as discussed three weeks earlier means simply sticking new wallpaper over the problem.  I’ve heard that this is common practise in Korea where mould is just considered part of everyday life in the summer months but I’m disappointed and disillusioned to discover that this is how the problem is being addressed in my apartment.  Any idiot will realise that the mould will simply re-appear through the new paper given enough time and, despite having recently toyed with the idea of simply staying in my current apartment rather than facing the schlep of moving, I’m so grateful to know that I only have to tolerate the mould problem for three more weeks.

Although I manage to do some work from home while my bedroom is re-papered, I’m frustrated that it takes five and a half hours to paper the little room.  Fortunately, the job is finished just in time for me to get to school for my afternoon summer classes.  Unfortunately, I’m left with a huge mess to clean up when I get home tonight.  Three more weeks is something of a mantra for me at the moment regardless of how stressful arranging the move seems…

Unwelcoming Apartments (1 August)

Sad that our vacation has come to an end, we leave Jeung-do early this morning so that M can be back in Gunsan by midday.  An unwelcome surprise awaits me when I return to my apartment and discover that the mould has not only re-covered everything that I spent the last week cleaning but that it is even growing on my laptop.  This is the final straw and I can feel the stress that I’ve just spent four days evicting come rushing back in a rude slap.  I can’t seem to move soon enough and I need my mom!  I phone my mom on her work number but struggle to hear her over the sudden hammering noise coming from the apartment opposite mine in the next building.  It appears that they are having air conditioning installed. 

Convinced that it won’t be noisy for much longer, I feel my blood pressure continue to rise as the noise continues for the next two hours.  Heaven alone knows what is going on next door but my nerves just can’t take this anymore.  I phone Catfish in tears, stressed out and fed-up with my living conditions.  When she offers me sleeping space at her apartment for the night, I hastily accept it and re-pack my bag as quickly as possible. 

Troubles Pour Over

By the time I arrive at Catfish’s apartment, I just burst into tears.  I’m so tired of fighting with my apartment and struggling to get things done.  I’m tired of not being able to communicate with my landlord myself and feeling like I’m burdening my overworked co-teachers further.  On the other hand, I’ve also been a fairly easy waegook as far as asking my co-teachers for help.  That which I can accomplish solo, I do in order to maintain some semblance of independence and that which requires Korean assistance, I usually ask M for help.  Therefore, I resolve to tackle this matter with my co-teachers in the morning but first, we head to Lotte Mart for wine.

An hour later, we’re back in Catfish’s apartment and attempting to make sangria while devouring a bowl of bibimbap.  Catfish keeps insisting that I drink until, eventually, I’m laughing albeit it somewhat hysterically as we talk about various stressors and coping with things in general in Korea.  I can’t believe how stressful and ridiculous the last few weeks have been and I’m really hoping that things get easier from here.

April Fool’s Giddy Girl (1 April)

Incredibly, I’ve forgotten that today is April Fool’s Day.  I had planned the most perfect prank for my students but it required the involvement of my co-teachers and this is where I’ve fallen flat – I forgot to speak to them and fill them in on the prank!  Since my school seems to have only just accepted that I’m actually planning to stay for at least the duration of my current contract, I was going to tell my students that I’ve decided to go back to SA and see what the reaction was.  Apparently this would be a bit mean so maybe it’s a good thing that it didn’t pan out as I’d hoped.  My poor planning didn’t prevent my students from pranking me however.

After my first lesson of the day, I must have decided that April Fool’s Day isn’t really acknowledged in Korea.  I was a little disappointed that my first (and favourite) class hadn’t done some type of prank so I am a bit surprised when Mr Jeong tells me to watch out for student pranks just before I enter my second lesson of the day.  As I walk into the classroom, I see them scurrying to get into position for their prank.  My students have turned their jerseys and ties around and are facing the back of the class.  It’s a well-organised prank and I appreciate the trouble they’ve gone to in organising things so I decide to play along for a few minutes. 

No Ms Kim, It's Not Radiation Poisoning...

My co-teacher arrives about 5 minutes into the lesson and doesn’t seem to appreciate the humour.  With that, the prank is over and students return to their normal positions and bored expressions.  In the scramble for books, I notice one of the boys looks like he’s about the throw up – and he does, right next to my co-teacher who looks horrified and scared.  A couple of the students look concerned to see that he’s thrown up blood, I’m a little confused as to what’s going on and my co-teacher quickly shuffles him out of the room while asking if he’s okay.  My attempts to begin the lesson are in vain as everyone’s attention is focused on the student and teacher outside.  Suddenly, the student jumps up shouting some form of surprise word, which my co-teacher seemed thrilled to hear.  She’s visibly relieved to discover the blood is nothing more than a fake blood capsule and an well-timed April Fool’s joke rather than some serious health condition or reaction to the feared radiation poisoning that heading straight to Korea from Japan. 

The students seem to have planned fairly elaborate pranks for several teachers throughout the day and this is a topic of much discussion among the teachers during lunch.  I’m surprised to discover that today is also my fantastic co-teacher’s birthday.  I find it rather ironic that today is her birthday since I’ve been meaning to ask her for several weeks when her birthday is.  I’m happy, however, that the English teachers – who are all sitting together at lunch today – are actually speaking English and including me in the general conversation. 

Mistranslations and Interesting Conversations 

I leave school early for an acupuncture appointment.  My back is really sore but I’m also, undeniably, looking forward to seeing cute doctor again since it’s been a while.  The co-ordinator seems happy to see me and tells me that it’s been a while since she last saw me.  Cute doctor seems just as happy to see me.  He greets me with, “Long time no see” and comments, in Korean, that it’s good to see me.  I get cheeky for a moment and ask if he’s happy to see me even though it means he has to speak English but, as usual, I speak too fast.  All he says is, “too fast” so I repeat myself at a slower pace, which still doesn’t seem to be successful.  The co-ordinator translates what I’ve said as, “even though you can’t speak English” which seems to prompt cute doctor into proving me wrong. 

He tells me that he saw me about a month prior to this outside Angel-in-us coffee shop, meeting a friend.  He specifies that it was a female friend because he knows I’m single – I’m assuming it was Catfish he saw me with – and that he was very happy to see me then.  I’m disappointed that he saw me but didn’t say hello and I tell him this. His response: “I’m shy boy” which prompts me to sing the Korean pop song ‘Shy boy’, which just happens to be playing on the radio at that moment.  I seem to embarrass him too much because he scurries away for something.  While he’s gone, the co-ordinator tells me that Koreans are shy to speak to foreigners when they see them unexpectedly even when they know the people – it has to do with a lack of confidence in speaking English.  Nevertheless, I make cute doctor promise to say hello to me the next time he sees me somewhere other than the medical centre. 

The co-ordinator keeps disappearing during the consultation and cute doctor seems to be out to prove that he can hold a conversation in English.  He also seems to be trying to say something else but is uncertain of how to proceed.  I’m confused by his comments of “hav[ing] an idea that [I] might not like” and “want[ing] to talk to me lots” despite his bad English.  I’m a little too enthusiastic when I hear this and respond in a manner not too dissimilar to that of a golden retriever pup.  He tries really hard to communicate with me in English and I’m impressed that he’s managed to keep it up for nearly two hours.  He even goes so far as to show me an anatomy book, in English, to try and explain what he thinks is wrong with me. 

Towards the end of the appointment, his confidence seems to have grown and he tells me that he wishes he could speak better English so that he could show me how funny he really is.  He says that he’s actually a very funny person, and has a good sense of humour, but this doesn’t translate well due to his bad English.  I’m touched that he seems so concerned about the impression he makes and assure him that I do find him funny. 

Out of the blue, he asks if I have any Korean friends and seems somewhat taken aback when I confirm that I actually do although most of them live in Seoul.  His next question is how I know people who live in Seoul followed by whether or not my Korean friends speak English (yes again) which seems to intimidate him – especially when I try to make him feel more comfortable by telling him that most of them are English teachers or deal with foreigners regularly; unfortunately, this seems to backfire rather than work as I’d hoped.  Despite this, he continues to talk to me and informs me that he is currently doing his compulsory military service; that is how he ended up working at the Gunsan Medical Centre. 

When he asks me how he can improve his English, my brain shouts that this is the perfect opportunity to say, “Let’s hang out” but I don’t and the opportunity quickly passes while I proceed to kick myself repeatedly.  Again, he seems rather concerned about the impression he seems to be making on me and is eager to clarify that he actually had good marks for English when he was at school but that he is now old (32) and English is difficult.  He’s also quick to apologise for causing me pain during the treatment when he asks if I hate him for hurting me before repeatedly telling me that he doesn’t want to hurt me – a common statement from oriental medicine doctors who recognise that acupuncture is rather foreign to many westerners. 

At 5pm, I feel a bit guilty that he’s still working with me although he seems quite content.  I’m relieved to find out that, as of today, the medical centre is open until 6pm so I have nothing to worry about.  After confirming another appointment for the following Friday, I text Catfish and we arrange to meet for dinner at Hoa Binh.  Not having brought my yoga things with me, I have to rush home to change and get my things before heading back to Naun-dong at 8:20pm for yoga. 

Not So Pleasant News

By the time I finally get home for the evening, I’m exhausted.  I switch on my computer to check e-mails before heading to bed and my delirious mood takes a sudden nosedive at the news awaiting me.  My mom has e-mailed to inform me that my cousin’s dog was cruelly murdered and thrown into a dumpster near their house and that my cousin, with whom my parents are currently staying in Cyprus, has been rushed to hospital for an emergency operation to have a rather large ovarian cyst removed.  I feel torn between my elation at today’s conversation with cute doctor and the disturbing news of my cousin and helpless in the knowledge that there’s nothing I can do until at least 4pm tomorrow afternoon thanks to the time difference. 

Happy to See Me? (17 February)

My back is incredibly tense and, cute doctor aside, I do firmly believe that acupuncture makes a difference.  The fact that the oriental doctor I visit happens to be an absolute sweetheart and cute is simply a bonus and one that I thoroughly enjoy.  Since we are currently working semi-flexi-time at school, I ask to leave school early on Thursday afternoon in order to have a doctor’s appointment.  It’s only been about three weeks since my last visit but I really miss chatting with the cute doctor.  The coordinator/translator at the Medical Centre seems to think that I only make appointments with the cute doctor because I like him but she’s more than happy to oblige when I text her with a request to make the appointment for me. 

 

I arrive at the Medical Centre’s Oriental Medicine Department and am greeted in the usual friendly manner.  As I chat to the coordinator, the nurse joins the conversation saying that she has the same symptoms as me which, honestly, is something of a relief to hear.  We probably only chat for about 10 minutes as I sit with the suction caps on my back which, I’m told, draw blood to the surface and help to improve circulation.  While chatting, I’m aware of the fact that cute doctor is in the cubicle right next to me treating another patient.  As he finishes with that patient, he seems to also become aware of the fact that we’re speaking English in the very next cubicle and I hear the curtain behind me move as a rather excited Dr Kim exclaims something in Korean followed by my name over and over again.  I don’t have to understand much Korean to know that he’s asking if it’s really me who’s back and he soon changes to English as he greets me while struggling to contain his apparent enthusiasm.  With the suction caps on my back, I’m hesitant to turn around lest I accidentally loosen them so I simply lift a hand an wave while saying hello.  Within a minute, he’s gone around to enter my cubicle from the front and seems to have regained his composure slightly; this time he greets me a little more calmly with a "Long time no see" as the nurse leaves with a huge smile on her face.  I get the impression my visits to cute doctor are something along the lines of an entertaining Korean drama for the staff in this department.

Long Time No See

As cute doctor asks the usual questions about my symptoms, the translator tells him that the nurse mentioned that she has the same symptoms as me.  He seems surprised and calls the nurse over to tell him what her symptoms are because, clearly speaking Korean, it’s easier to hear this from another Korean person than from a foreigner via a translator.  He decides that my qui is blocked and hurries to fetch a larger needle than the usual ones for acupuncture.  With increasing trepidation on my part, he explains that he is going to use this larger needle to try and unblock my qui which he thinks is causing the tension and pain in my back; I’m not too happy about this new approach but I trust his judgement despite the cautionary voice somewhere inside of me that tells me that this is going to hurt like hell.  The voice is right….

Each stab of the needle feels like a hot knife being pushed into the most painful parts of my pain and then wiggled around a little bit to help unblock the passageways that are currently obstructed.  I understand that this is not a deliberate attempt on his part to hurt me and cause me further pain but I can feel the tears rapidly springing to my eyes.  Pride will not allow me to cry in front of cute doctor but when he starts prodding around my neck with the big needle, I can’t help but freak out a little.  I’ve always been sensitive about things done to my and particularly when they involve needles – even more so in the last two years since going through a biopsy for thyroid gland problems leading to surgery to remove my thyroid gland just over a year ago.  The neurotic part of me decides that even if this cute doctor, he’s still not going anywhere near my throat with that needle and I sense his hesitancy when I try to express this. 

Before I know it, the appointment is over and I seem to have offended him in some way.   As I get dressed again, I can’t help but feel a little despondent that today’s appointment has ended so abruptly with him once again returning to the sanctuary of his office.  It’s quite a surprise then that the translator insists on me saying goodbye to him on my way out, and even knocks on his office door to tell him that I’m leaving.  I’m rather relieved to discover that he is still friendly and happy to chat to me despite my earlier hesitancy with the treatment he recommended.  I leave the Medical Centre with a spring in my step and head to the ESL bookstore next to the CGV cinema to purchase our Korean grammar books for our lessons thinking of how much I enjoy just chatting to the cute doctor and wishing that I could see him outside of the hospital sometime.

Surprise! Surprise! Sur…huh? (7 February)

Back at school after a great vacation, I’m disappointed to discover my scratchy throat seems to be feeling worse and my voice seems to be undecided as to whether or not it’s still on vacation.  Fortunately, I’m only deskwarming for the next three weeks so I’m not too concerned about my rapidly disappearing voice.  Fate, however, seems to have other plans as I soon discover when, at 10:50, Mr Jeong phones me to tell me that we’re following our regular timetable this week since it is the final week of the 2010 academic calendar.  This means that I have a class in 10 minutes.  While he apologises profusely, stating that he thought we’d already been told about this week’s timetable, I run through possible lesson ideas.  I’m actually glad that we’re following a proper timetable again and, as I later tell my co-teacher and Mr Jeong, at least we were given 10 minutes warning instead of only hearing the news after the class has already started.  Their response is that I’ve completed adjusted to Korea and settled in at school. 

With a hastily formulated conversation lesson, NZ1 and I head to the first lesson where we end up just chatting to the students.  I spend a lot of the lesson telling them about my vacation trips to Jeju, Countdown Seoul and Phoenix Park and the students seem to enjoy my anecdotes of my failed ski attempts.  I don’t mind poking fun at myself when it makes students respond and I’m glad the seem to be enjoying the break from their otherwise rigorous timetables. 

By the end of the day, I’m in a good mood and my thoughts quickly return to the cute doctor.  I’ve posted so many comments about the cute doctor on Facebook that friends have asked for a photo of him.  It’s not like I can whip out my camera in an appointment though and take a photo of him – well, I can but I’m not outgoing enough to take this approach.  Instead, I settle for trawling through the Korean version of the Medical Centre’s website until I finally hit the jackpot: A photo of cute doctor with a few key points of where he studied.  I also discover that more than half of my appointments with him have been on days that he’s not the scheduled doctor for outpatients yet still he saw me.  This partly explains why he could spend so much time chatting to me and yet, I find myself more confused than ever before….

Catfish Gets Hooked (25 January)

It’s another slow day at school but thankfully my last day before my winter vacation.  My co-teacher is on vacation for the next two weeks and most of the teachers in my office seem to be working flexi-time at the moment so it’s very isolating sitting at my desk at the moment.  NZ1 has just returned from a month long vacation period so I head upstairs to the International Office where I spend several hours chatting to the Kiwis in an attempt to pass the morning more quickly. 

Did You Know...

By lunchtime, I’m starving but I haven’t brought any lunch with me.  As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m too shy to go to the school cafeteria alone so yesterday, with my co-teacher not at school, I actually went back to my apartment during lunch instead of facing the cafeteria alone.  Today, I’m determined to have lunch in the cafeteria again since simply eating school lunches has already significantly improved my relationship with several Korean teachers already.  I muster the courage to invite another English teacher, Jean, to join me for lunch; she tells me she’s busy working on something.  I must look as rejected as I feel because a few minutes later, she says that she just needs a few more minutes to finish the document she’s working on and then we can go to lunch.  Now I feel guilty for making her apparently feel obliged to accept the lunch invitation but so be it. 

We chat freely as we head to the cafeteria and she tells me about herself and a couple of the other teachers at school.  As we chat, I realise that I don’t know much about her aside from the fact that she studied in Toronto for two years and is the same age as me – her birthday is actually two weeks before mine.  Over lunch, she also volunteers a lot of information about Six-pack.  From her, I learn that they both attended Jeonbuk National University – where a lot of teachers seem to have studied – and that he was two years ahead of her.  I also learn that he had a reputation at university for being a bit of a player, is currently single, 32 years old and looking to settle down.  Considering the cheeky and flirtatious expression that he usually wears around school, I find most of this very easy to believe.  I text Catfish with this latest update and we immediately agree to meet for dinner.  Jean also tells me about spas and resorts and gives me a list of websites to look through for places that she thinks I might enjoy in both this province and the one above Jeollabuk-do.

Guess What Happened

Traffic across town is a nightmare and it takes me 40 minutes to get from Soryong-dong to Lotte mart instead of the usual 15 minutes.  As a result, Catfish is already at the Italian restaurant we’ve decided on for dinner and texts me with a teasing message about having “lots to report”.  It’s clear that we both have exciting news to share and we take turns talking about everything that’s happened today.  Catfish then tells me about her latest experience.  While walking past the OZ cellphone store tonight on her way to the restaurant, one of the staff members spoke to her in English.  Since it’s so unusual to have Korean people outside of school speak to us in English, she immediately went over to him to chat.  He then introduced her to another person working in the store and told her that he is only 27 years old and single and apparently tried to convince them to exchange telephone numbers which Catfish declined in embarrassment.

You Will Go Back For That Number!

We chat at length about this latest encounter and something tells me that she wishes she had had taken his number.  We silently contemplate the situation for a few minutes before I tell her that she’s an idiot – she simply laughs.  I then tell her that straight after dinner, we’re going to go to the store and she’s going to ask for the number of the 27 year old whom she’s admitted is cute.  After dinner, this is exactly what we do: I talk her up to going to the store and we enter the store together.  The moment everyone realises that Catfish has returned to the store, there’s a buzz of chatter.  JH immediately comes over to her and asks what she wants and how he can help her.  He seems as tongue-tied as Catfish who is quietly and demurely attempting to ask for his telephone number while I stand awkwardly at the door and watch the show.  They exchange numbers, Catfish flirts a little and then we’re on our way again laughing about what has just happened.  Catfish is quieter than usual and looks simultaneously shocked, embarrassed and happy with what has just happened.

We’re heading to Doctor’s Coffee which is just around the corner when Catfish does an emergency stop in her step: She’s just realised that she forgot to tell him her name!  If she doesn’t turn around right now and go back to the store to tell him her name, he might never call and then the evening’s events would all have been for nought.  She does a 180 degree turn and determinedly starts walking back to the store where, this time, I stand outside and watch the proceedings through the window.  Upon seeing her re-enter the store a second time, the person who instigated this exchange of numbers originally steps forward to ensure no further mistakes are made as Catfish heads over to JH to tell him her name.  He takes both phones, checks that the information is completely and correctly entered and then tries to tell them to for a drink then and there.  Catfish re-emerges and we’re once again on our way with her looking more bashful than I’ve ever seen her.

Setting the Scene For a Date

We finally reach Doctor’s Coffee where we are still debating the matter.  I convince her to text him then and there and invite him to coffee tonight since we’re just around the corner from where they met.  I’m feeling more mischievous than usual so I grab the phone from her and type in a text message while she procrastinates.  I send off a message before she has a change to veto it and the response is almost immediate.  Korean dating rules states that women should always be accompanied by their best friend on a first date; if she is alone on a first date, it suggests that she is easy.  We’re in the perfect set-up for a first date: We’re nearby, Catfish is not alone for the date and it’s a coffee shop – she couldn’t ask for a more perfect moment than this.  JH, it seems, is just as keen as can be seen in the following text conversation:

Catfish’s phone:  My friend and I are at Doctor’s Coffee if you’d like to join us. 

JH: OK! But, I’ll finish 9:00PM A U OK??

Catfish’s phone:  Not a problem. We’ll be here for a while ^^

JH: OK!! SEE U THEN~~^^

We start preparing Catfish for JH’s arrival.  She’s a little nervous but also excited it seems ; my role tonight is simply that of chaperone in accordance with Korean dating customs.  At 20:30, however, JH texts her: NOW I’ll go there^^.  Since he’s 30 minutes early, it’s obvious that he’s been let off work early in order to meet Catfish for coffee.  That he alternates between upper and lower case and the amount of punctuation that he uses in each message also suggests that he is rather excited and that his English is fairly good.  When he arrives, Catfish is still in the restroom so I greet him and we chat briefly until Catfish returns and the ‘date’ begins.  Conversation between the two flows easily and I simply sit back and observe the two of them interact with one another.  It’s an entertaining evening that, unfortunately, lasts only an hour but ends on a positive note.  JH is witty and fairly fluent in English considering that he is able to hold a conversation with us in a language that is not his home language. 

He seems a bit reluctant to leave but has family obligations to fulfil. They bid each other goodbye and I take out my camera to capture the image of Catfish looking more and more like the Cheshire Cat!  Within five minutes of his departure, he texts her once more: Today, I’m very happy to see U^^.  Catfish still looks like she’s in a bit of a dreamlike state so I text a reply on her behalf.  I have a feeling this is only the beginning of a very interesting story….

Surprise! (21 January)

Today is the last day of the conversation classes.  As of Monday, we officially have no work to do at school – at least, in theory we have no work to do but I still have to mark the final journal entries the freshmen wrote a week ago at the end of winter camp.  Since today is the last lesson, we’ve decided to use the Korean competitive spirit to our advantage and will be grouping students randomly to demonstrate the various speaking exercises they’ve been practising over the past two weeks.  We’ve also brought appropriate prizes: Candy! 

The lesson is very successful and the students really get involved in the discussion with great comical effect. One student in particular, a boy, is highly entertaining and very good natured when the conversation turns towards his three wives, four girlfriends and whether or not he’s gay.  The lesson passes far too quickly and we’re soon left with nothing to do for the remainder of the day but count the hours and eventually minutes until the end of the day when NZ2 and I are meeting Catfish and two other kiwis at Angel-in-us where we’ll then go to dinner.

NZ2 has organised tonight’s social event but clearly doesn’t travel often from Soryong-dong to Naun-dong at 17:00 on a weekday.  In theory, the trip should only take about 10 minutes but we have to factor in traffic which makes the trip completely unpredictable.  Incredibly, we manage to find taxi within seconds of leaving school and we’re soon on our way to Lotte mart since we don’t know what to tell a taxi driver in order to get to Angel-in-us.  When we arrive at Lotte mart, NZ2 seems determined to make it to the coffee shop by 17:30 exactly despite my reassurances that everyone will understand if we’re a few minutes late – after all, we’re the only ones who live on the opposite side of town while they’re all within reasonable walking distance of the venue. 

Be Careful Who You Talk About

Somehow we manage to make it to Angel-in-us by 17:30 where Catfish, our Kiwi-mom and her husband are already waiting.  I introduce NZ2 to the other New Zealanders and excuse myself to use the restroom. When I return, NZ2 is recounting the story of how Mr Jeong and some of the other teachers at our school thought that he and I should get together.  I then add my two cents’ worth including the fact that I spoke to my co-teacher about this very matter after lunch today at school.  She assures me that she knows that NZ2 are only friends and that only people over 40 years of age might find it difficult to understand that men and women of marriageable age can be just friends.  In other words – I only need to worry about what three-quarters of the teachers at school think instead of all of them!

I’m just finishing sharing this story when I feel a hand on my arm and hear someone say, “I’m sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to say hello to Sarah.” As I turn to the speaker, I can feel surprise take control as I realise it’s my co-teacher – about whom I’ve just been speaking – and I’m confused; my brain starts working overtime as it tries to work out why my co-teacher is in this coffee shop.  I introduce her to my friends and then look around for her husband or family to say hello since I assume that she must be having coffee with one of them or a friend.  As I look around, however, part of my brain registers that they all live in Jeonju (including my co-teacher) so they wouldn’t be meeting at Angel-in-us in Gunsan; in addition, I said goodbye to her an hour ago when she helped me with the timer on the heating system in my apartment before telling me that she was going home. 

Catfish recently told me that I think very quickly and that the emotions attached to my thoughts often flash across my face in succession before I even say a word.  It seems my brain processes information very quickly and I struggle to keep my thoughts hidden while my brain does this processing.  If this is so, I can only imagine the expressions that flash across my face as my very confused brain tries its best to process what, exactly, is happening. 

I Can't Figure This Out...

After a futile attempt to see where my co-teacher is sitting in the coffee shop, I glance back at my friends who have suddenly all started taking out gifts and placing them on the table in front of me.  I look back and forth between my co-teacher and my friends, none of whom seem surprised to see each other.  It’s only when my Kiwi-mom invites my co-teacher to sit down and NZ2 tells her that her timing was perfect as he pulls out his camera that I finally realise tonight’s dinner has been turned into a surprise birthday party for me.  Ironically, Catfish and I had been planning to organise a surprise birthday party for our Kiwi-mom whose birthday is on Monday (three days before mine) but we haven’t been successful; to discover that tonight’s dinner was turned into a surprise party for me was something truly unexpected and a very special gesture. 

My co-teacher can only stay a few minutes but her taking the time just to stop by Angel-in-us – particularly since she lives in Jeonju – means more to me than she’ll probably ever realise!  Catfish later tells me that when NZ2 asked if she had any suggestions as to what to get me as a birthday present, she suggested inviting Six-pack to tonight’s dinner.  Since he would’ve been the only non-English speaker – and therefore an unrealistic birthday present – she suggested NZ2 invite my co-teacher to join us.  For the record, having my co-teacher join us for 10 minutes is far better than having Six-pack attend! Besides, the cute doctor is on my birthday wishlist this year…

From there, we decide on the Pasta Steakhouse next door for dinner.  The food’s not too bad but the company is fantastic.  We order steak and wine and conversation flows easily as we catch up on news with each other after the Christmas and New Year vacation periods.  So well-organised is this party that my friends have even bought me a birthday cake with a candle which they now take out and sing “happy Birthday” to me. 

After dinner, Catfish, NZ2, another South African and I head back to Angel-in-us coffee shop where we end up chatting for several hours.  The other South African invites another friend of hers – a Brit – to join us. He’s just renewed his contract for another year but will now be teaching at two schools instead of one.  He’s soon regaling us with hilarity of the possibility that one of his schools might just be on Seonyudo where there are currently no foreign teachers.  We can’t help but make joking suggestions of how he’ll have nearly three hours of travelling each day if he works on Seonyudo which is the islands closest to Gunsan.  We tell him to ask for a speedboat and talk about how living on Seonyudo would make Gunsan seem as exciting and as much of an adventure as Seoul and other larger cities currently are for us.  It’ll be interesting to see what happens with this particular situation….

How Cold is it in Gunsan? (17 Janaury)

A Gunsan friend posted on her Facebook status update yesterday that the temperature was - 12  celsius – perfect weather for staying indoors, and preferably bed, with a good book.  I agreed with this plan and started my day from the comfort of my warm apartment just chatting to a friend via Skype until Catfish texted.  We were being rather sloth-like and hadn’t yet got around to having breakfast; it was now lunchtime and we were both in the mood for a proper, hot meal that we didn’t have to make.  This led to lunch at an Italian restaurant near Lotte Mart which then led to a sneaky grocery shopping trip at Lotte mart to encourage Catfish to actually buy food since she otherwise avoids the department store since it’s just too overwhelming.  Before we knew it, we were having white hot chocolate at a new coffee shop and talking about where to go for dinner. Time seems to sprint forwards when we hang out with each other. 

Today isn’t much warmer and several friends have status updates related to the cold.  Mr Jeong was telling me this morning that last night’s news had a clip showing tourists in Seoul who were so cold that they had attempted to cover every part of their bodies with thick clothing but were still cold.  Catfish tells me that Seoul was so cold on Saturday that she and another friend of ours literally sat in a bar drinking for six hours in order to warm up enough to go to the show for which they had booked tickets.  My Seoul friends tell me that it’s so cold that if they leave their apartments with wet hair after a shower, it freezes by the time they get to school, when they exhale, their breathe freezes against the inside of their scarves and tears turn to icicles on their eyelashes.  The list goes on and on….

As for Gunsan, it’s apparently  - 10 celsius here today so it’s warmer than yesterday.  However, it’s so cold that the water in the toilet bowls at school is frozen solid! As long as this doesn’t happen at home, I’m happy….

Let Me Entertain You (12 January)

If I’d only understood just how important food is in Korean culture, I would have made more of an effort to eat school lunches from the start instead of taking the easy way out and bringing foods that I recognise and eating lunch separately with the Kiwis.  I’m determined to try and eat lunch with the Korean teachers in an effort to get to know some of them better but the lunch options seem equally determined not to let this happen. 

Shellfish, I Loathe You 

On a shopping trip in Seoul at the beginning of December, I discovered the hard way that I’ve developed an allergy to shrimp.  We’re not quite sure if it’s only shrimp that I need to avoid but I’m not too keen to test the extent of my allergy so I’ve been advised to stay away from shellfish in general unless I particularly feel like visiting an ER.  Since cute doctor doesn’t work in the ER, I have no desire to visit an ER again anytime soon.  Unfortunately, Korean school lunches seem to favour shellfish – particularly since Gunsan is a coastal town so being served fish of some sort on a daily basis is to be expected.  This means that there are several days at school where all I can eat is rice and kimchi.

How Allergic Are You?

Several of the Korean teachers don’t seem to believe that someone can be allergic to a particular food so they probably think I’m just being a picky eater – especially since I usually only have half the quantity of food on my tray that most of them have on theirs.  The latest teacher to ask me why I don’t eat shellfish seems to understand very clearly – despite broken English – when I say: I eat seoo (shrimp) or chogae (shellfish), one hour and I can’t breath so I have to go to the ER! Her eyes widen as she seems to process my simplified explanation complete with actions of my choking myself and dying before she swiftly moves her shellfish far away from me and tells me “Don’t touch!”.

You May Eat Only What You Can Hold...With These Two Sticks

With the question of my allergy now apparently cleared up, the second question of why I take considerably less food than my Korean colleagues remains.  Yes, I eat less than they do but they’re still all so thin is my first answer and the foods that I can eat at lunch are all carbs.  Their response: Everyone knows Asian people are too skinny and we’re all built differently.  This is such a sweet response considering the horror stories I hear from several other GETs whose teachers seem to constantly be commenting about their weight – even when they’re a healthy size.  My second, and more honest, response is simple: Whatever I put on my plate, I have to eat…with chopsticks! Using those blasted metal sticks takes twice as long for me as it does for my Korean colleagues and since I can only eat what I manage to hold between this foreign torture device, I tend to take only a little food at a time.

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I have good and bad chopstick skill days.  The wooden chopsticks are generally easier for foreigners to use that the metal ones which take considerably more practise.  My colleagues seem to find it rather entertaining to watch me attempt to use the metal chopsticks at school.  I diligently attempt, repeatedly, to pick up small quantities of food no matter how awkward it may be and when all I really want to do is stab a chopstick through the food from hunger.  Picking up food is the easier part; keeping it between the chopsticks en route to my mouth requires more skill and this is what my colleagues find so amusing – I can’t seem to keep the blasted chopsticks balanced long enough to not drop the food before it gets to my mouth.  I smile graciously while thinking to myself Let’s give you a knife and fork with which to eat lunch and then see who’s laughing as I discreetly stab the food with both chopsticks so that I get to eat some lunch in this half hour.

I Look Korean? (10 January)

After a weekend of procrastinating over my marking, I’m finally almost finished commenting on all of my students’ journals which need to be handed back today.  Fortunately, today should be a relatively stress-free day since my students will have the entire lesson to type up their best writing from last week’s lessons for the portfolio of writing to commemorate the ADEPT program.  I can’t help wondering how much the school spends on printing costs for things like this but it looks impressive and that’s probably more important than the cost.

Since the students only have to type one piece of writing, I’m anticipating a fairly easy three hours of class today.  It’s unusual for students here to constantly ask for help in a lesson so I’m very surprised when I realise that in two of my classes, I barely have a chance to register the start and end of each lesson as I keep moving from one student question to the next.  It makes the lessons go by far more quickly than usual and it’s genuine footage for Mr Jeong to film for the video clip he’s making for Friday’s closing ceremony.

I also have an opportunity to just chat with some of my students once they finish their work and I can’t help but laugh when I see one of them looking through photos (of me and the Kiwis) from our school festival which a senior student has posted on her webpage.  Another student makes me laugh even more when she shows me a picture of a Korean woman who is apparently a television star here – and then proceeds to tell me that, in her opinion, this is who I resemble in appearance.  I’ve been told increasingly often over the last few weeks that my mannerisms are very Korean but this is the first time I’ve been told that I look Korean! 

My Personal Challenge

My students seem to genuinely like me – except for the majority of 104 which is still a bit of a challenge.  I’ve also given considerable thought to Malicious Boy and realised that it would be so easy to request that I not have him as a student in the new year but the reality is that, at some point, I’m going to have to deal with him or a student like him – and I already have dealt with similar students in South Africa. 

I’m actually looking forward to the challenge of finding a way to win him over since I firmly believe that he’s actually quite intelligent and has simply had a negative experience with either English teachers or foreign English teachers in particular.  He’s also lived in China for the past two years so he may just be a little insecure.  Whatever the reason for his negativity towards my subject, I’ve spoken to other teacher friends and am determined to get him to participate positively in my lessons.

Conversing Waegook Style

The rest of the day passes fairly quickly and I’m soon meeting Catfish at our favourite Galbi restaurant where we can’t help noticing that we’re once again receiving more attention than most other customers.  It’s particularly entertaining when a mini-scuffle ensues between a male and female server who semi-tackle each other in their enthusiasm – the girl won and the guy stood only slightly to the side looking somewhat bashful as Catfish broke into uncontrollable giggles over the absurdity of the situation.  After dinner, we break with tradition only slightly by going to Angel-in-us (or AngeLInus as the Koreans call it) for coffee instead of Ediya Coffee. 

There, we continue with a typical ‘Western’ chat (ie lots of facial expressions and gestures) much to the amusement of the staff who seem to find us fascinating to watch – or maybe they were just wishing that we would leave.  However, we redeem ourselves by waving and greeting all of the kids who are in the coffee shop and playing with a toddler at the next table.  This is something that we do regularly but in Korea, it’s looked upon very favourably – Koreans like kids so if you show that you like kids, and the kids respond well to you (which, being foreign, most of them giggle and laugh just because we look and sound different), then it seems to be assumed that you’re a good person.

Lotte Mart and the Time Warp

Our final destination for the evening is Lotte mart where Catfish needs to purchase aluminium foil.  Culture shock is a strange little bugger that settles in very unusual and unexpected areas of our lives at random moments.  This is why some foreigners are literally scared to leave their apartments some weekends (I have had several weekends like this in my time in Korea) and grocery shopping and department stores can suddenly seem overwhelming and terrifying.  For Catfish, Lotte mart has become a sort of nemesis – she’s scared to go grocery shopping by herself but she needs aluminium foil for her winter camp lesson the next day so duty calls.

At the best of times, Lotte mart is a sensory overload: there are so many bright colours, neon arrows and singing promotional signs, in-store promoters who helpfully try to help you find the best deal (even when it’s clear that you don’t understand Korean and they don’t speak English), overpowering smells (Catfish can’t stand the fish section where you choose your live fish and I can’t stand the meat section – although you don’t choose meat from live animals behind the counter in this section!), repetitive jingles and more.  In addition, Lotte mart is a bit like being in a casino: It’s so brightly lit and there’s so much activity that you can easily lose three or four hours in this four-storey building without really accomplishing or buying much.  As a result, it’s not unusual to see foreigners shopping in pairs; in fact, it’s somewhat advisable to bring reinforcements on any shopping trip because two foreigners is more intimidating than just one.

Aruminium Poil

Our main mission tonight is to find aluminium foil for Catfish although I do also need to some grocery shopping while we’re here.  It doesn’t take us long to round up the few items we’re each looking for – except the elusive aluminium foil.  In American and South African stores, aluminium foil would be stocked in the general grocery section which is where we’re looking.  Recognising that this is the Western-logic-approach that is so frequently unsuccessful in Korea – and tiring of having fought our way through the late night shoppers and the same aisles one too many times – Catfish approaches a store employee and asks for hep.  The immediate response is the deer-caught-in-headlights/the waegook-is-talking-to-me look but we’re patient and Catfish smiles encouragingly while carefully enunciating what we’re looking for.  Still no luck.  Aluminium foil is not exactly something you can mime but Catfish tries still to no success.

I then decide to make one more circuit of the nearby aisles to see if I can find anything similar or possibly even aluminium foil itself while Catfish continues trying to explain it to this unfortunate victim since my mini-dictionary has failed me once more.  When I return, Catfish is speaking to someone on the phone which I presume is her co-teacher, Miss Kim.  It’s only when she hands the phone back to the employee that I realise that this woman has gone out of her way, using her personal phone, to find someone who speaks more English than her in an attempt to better assist us – such is the overwhelming kindness demonstrated by Koreans on a regular basis.  Her face lights up as she listens to the translation of aluminium foil via the person on the other end of the phone conversation and she quickly grabs Catfish’s hand and leads her to the escalator.  On the second floor, in the aisle next to the car section, is the kitchen storage section of Lotte mart: This is where we find aRuminium Poil (as it’s called in Korean)! Catfish has a far more descriptive, and detailed, account of this particular adventure in her blog which I can highly recommend.

'l/ vs /r/ and /f/ Challenges

Koreans struggle to distinguish between and /l/ and /r/ sound (the Korean character ㄹ is the same for both of these sounds and the sound is determined by the placement of the character in each syllable) and there is no /f/ sound in Korean.  We already know and understand this.  What we don’t know – and can’t understand – is that if this is true, what did this particular woman hear differently in Catfish’s pronunciation of “aLuminium Foil” and the Korean pronunciation of “aRuminium Poil”?  That is perhaps a mystery that will never be solved.