A Tale of Two Classes

I teach two middle school level conversation classes on Tuesday nights. They both use books in a series entitled “Talking, Talking!” which provide 2-3 page long articles on various topics which should, in theory, inspire discussion.

One class gets very excited about (most of) the topics. They get very animated and very loud, often interrupting each other and often reverting into Korean when they have a point they really want to make but for which they lack the English words. With nearly all the topics we’ve discussed thus far, I’ve had little trouble maintaining a discussion for the entire 45 minute class period.

My other class sits quietly. When general questions are asked to elicit discussion, they continue to sit quietly. If I ask an individual student a question, he or she will answer as briefly as possible, and then return to sitting quietly. They do not “discuss” anything with me, much less with each other.

So which class contains the better students? Well, if you take a look at their grades, written work, homework, grammar skills, etc, you will find that the second class contains the better students. In fact, that class is our school’s Honors Class. So why do the students in our “best class” sit there like bumps on a log, while one of the lower level classes engages in spirited discussions?

According to Gwen, this is a result of years of Confucian educational indoctrination. According to Confucian education philosophies, “good students” sit quietly and respectfully, absorbing the information imparted to them from their teachers. Discussion is discouraged. Meanwhile, students who question their teachers, are talkative in class, and who are willing to share *their* opinions, are considered disrespectful.

Pepper the Kitten

My mother has rescued yet another stray kitten.
I've written about it over at SEGAPAWS.
Go check it out!
(At the very least you'll get to see a picture of a cute kitten!)

You know you've been listening to too much NPR when...

...you begin having dreams narrated by the voice of Neal Conan. Given the kind of crazy shit I usually dream about, it's a simply bizarre thing to have happen. But I have been listening to a lot of NPR since the acquisition of my ipod back in January, and I've got a podcast link for you today:

On yesterday's episode of the Diane Rehm Show, the guest was John Sedgwick. He discussed his new book, In My Blood, Six Generations of Madness and Desire in an American Family, which tracks depression and bipolar disorders throughout six generations of his family. If you or anyone in your family or circle of friends has suffered from mental illness, you should definitely download and listen to this podcast. I've already added In My Blood to my Amazon wishlist. (On a depressingly related note, yesterday's episode of Fresh Air addressed psychiatric problems among troops deployed to Iraq and the US military's lack of attention to this problem. Listen here.)

An aquarium and a mermaid

This morning the unthinkable happened: I awoke at 7am without even the aid of an alarm. And not just one of those wake-ups where you roll over, grunt at the clock, and go back to sleep either. I was wide awake, on what was (in Daegu, anyway) a sunny Saturday morning. So, what to do? I decided to pop down to Busan. While I’ve been to Busan before, the last time I was there was in 2004, so I figured it was about time I went back. I decided to take the bus down instead of the train in order to save a few bucks (you know, what with mortgage payments and all), but what I didn’t realize was that Busan’s “central bus terminal” isn’t central at all – it’s at the northern ass-end of the city. In contrast, the train drops you off downtown near the port. The bus station is, however, only one subway stop away from Busan’s famous Beomeosa Temple. At first I thought I might go to Beomeosa, but then I took a look at the sky. In contrast to the sunny morning I’d left behind in Daegu, Busan was overcast and dreary. I’ve been to Beomeosa once before before (back in 2001), and it was overcast and drizzly then too. I figured I’d put off temples and other outdoorsy things for a better day, and I headed instead towards the Busan Aquarium on Haeundae Beach. Unfortunately, from the Nopodong Stubway station (next to the horribly misnamed Central Bus Terminal), it was over an hour to Haeundae Beach. (Of course, Haeundae isn’t anywhere near the downtown train station either, so it probably would have taken me about the same amount of time either way.) I went to the Busan Aquarium back in 2004, and was quite impressed. I enjoyed the aquarium just as much this time around. The complex is located underground, so it doesn’t look too impressive from the outside… but trust me, it’s worth it, if you’re into that sort of thing. Unfortunately, the lighting wasn’t great for taking pictures, so I had a hard time getting decent shots. (I really must get a camera with image stabilization! Not like that would have solved the problem of fishies darting in and out of my photos, but….)

One of the tanks


Zebra Eels are my newest favorite aquatic creatures.


Watch a short video clip of Zebra Eels.
(Click here if you can't get the video to play.)


Most of the tanks were designed to look like natural habitats
except for this poor guy, who was stuck in the
"Year of the Golden Pig" tank.


Giant Octopus!


Shark Attack!!


Using a mirror, there's a picture of me and a shark :-)


Check out the sharks and huge fish in the shark tank.
(Click here if you can't get the video to play.)


Jellyfish are fabulous. As long as they're not stinging me.


More jellyfish.

After spending a few hours inside the aquarium, I emerged to find Haeundae Beach colder and drearier than it had been when I had descended into the aquarium.

Haeundae Beach (the "Korean Riviera") was very dreary today.


It's the Grand Hotel Haeundae. Hard to believe that I once
stayed there as a VIP. What a lifetime ago.

Nonetheless, I decided to make my way out to my favorite spot on Haeundae Beach: the mermaid located at the tip of Dongbaek Island (well, it’s called an island, although it’s connected by a manmade isthmus). If you stand on Haeundae Beach facing the water, the mermaid’s at that tip of land to your right. The closest I’ve ever found as to an explanation of *why* the mermaid is there is this:

At the seashore underneath the rock wall sits the statue of a mermaid. It represents the legendary heart breaking love story of the princess of Topaz from the Naranda country beyond the Sea. In this country lived a mermaid who was married to the King of Mungungnara. She shed many tears longing for her homeland and reflected on the topaz bead given by her grandmother-in-law. A monument for the song "Come back to Busan Port" (sung by Jo Yong-pil) stands at the flower garden of the shore protection roadside of Haeundae Beach. [from here]

The Mermaid


Up close and personal

Anyway, I scrambled over the rocks to get all the way out to the mermaid to take some pictures, and then decided it was about time to head back to Daegu. My body had suddenly realized it was operating on too few hours of sleep.

On my way back to the subway station, I ran into a Korean woman with a group of elementary school girls. Apparently, she was their English teacher, and they were out on a quest to find English speaking foreigners to practice with. After asking if I’d chat for a little while, she then asked if she could film the conversation. Um, okay. The kids asked me a lot of simple questions (What is your name? Where are you from? How old are you? Do you like kimchi?) and the woman asked me if I would ever consider falling in love with a Korean man. Um, okay, sure. Yep, I’m on film saying this, although sadly she wasn’t offering any ;-) When the “interview” was concluded, the kids gave me chocolate! Awesome.

I would just like to point out that I'm sporting hot pink, orange and lime green.

Then I made my way back to Nopodong and hopped a bus back to Daegu. I was asleep before the bus left the parking lot. Didn’t wake up until we pulled back into Daegu.

Meme me!

Brooke, the fearless moose photographer extraordinaire, has memed me. So here goes:

1. One book that changed your life: Mama Day by Gloria Naylor

2. One book you have read more than once: Are you kidding me? I am a serious re-reader, so pretty much if I liked it, I'll read it more than once. Especially if I'm overseas where reading materials are few and far between. So, um, any.

3. One book you would want on a desert island: The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien

4. One book that made you laugh: Life With Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

5. One book that made you cry: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

6. One book you wish had been written: The WD40 Story. That's the book I'm "writing" although I don't think one can use present continuous for something one hasn't worked on in over a year.

7. One book you wish had never been written: The Book of Revelations.

8. One book you are currently reading: Running With Reindeer: Encounters in Russian Lapland by Roger Took

9. One book you have been meaning to read: Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon. It's been sitting on my shelf since September.

10. This is the part where I'm supposed to tag five people.... but, um.... how about I tag all of you cats? Consider yourself tagged!

Disconcerting

Current temperature, Daegu, South Korea:

Current temperature, Vladimir, Russia

Yes, I understand that the time difference definitely plays a part in this, but it's not like it got much warmer during the day, and it will definitely get colder tonight. The thing is, Saturday was in the 60s and I was out and about without a coat.

Depressing News

Sommer Chambers, the founder of Seoul Cat Rescue, has passed away.

There are so many homeless and mistreated cats in this South Korea, and due to common misconceptions about cats, there so few people in this country willing to do anything for them... and then there was Sommer, an expat from the States, here teaching English, who did wonderful work for cats in Seoul. I never met Sommer, although I exchanged a few emails with her regarding cat adoption before I found Mia. I rather expected that she and I would cross paths at some point before I went home. I read the news in shock this evening. Sommer, you will be missed.

According to her obituary, she was only twenty-nine.

My mom is hot.

And I am *so* very jealous of this sweater she's sporting.

What's NOT hot is Ann Coulter calling John Edwards a faggot.
Nick has the story.

Old men, everywhere I go.

I walked from my house to my bank early yesterday afternoon. (My school is located on the second floor of the bank building, so I walk this route every day during the week.) There is an old man who sells various things (frequently scary eel-like creatures) at the Banyawol street market, who sits along my route to work most days of the week. I haven't been able to decide if this man is creepy, crazy, or just a nice old man... he certainly has aspects of all three. Nearly every day, we have the exact same interaction:

Man: Oh, hello! [man extends hand for shaking, which he then holds throughout the remainder of the interaction]
Jane: Hello.
Man: Where are you going?
Jane: To work.
Man: Walking? [I've never been able to figure out if this is a mispronunciation due to the fact that L and R are the same letter in the Korean language, or if he is actually saying walking]
Jane: [Assuming he means working] Yes.
Man: Oh, very beautiful your earrings! [or clothes, or coat, or hat, or glasses... always some item of clothing, although he's a big fan of my crazy earrings - he also usually makes a point of touching whichever item of clothing he is complimenting, which is a tad creepy.]
Jane: Thank you.
Man: You eat lunch?
Jane: Yes.
Man: Oh, ok. See you again?
Jane: Ok, goodbye. [recovers hand]
Man: Goodbye.

This has been going on nearly every day for seven months. I am definitely going to get a photograph of this guy before I leave, although I'm not going to do so until late July - I don't want to encourage him! Anyway, he was out yesterday morning, and we had our usual interaction, except that when he asked where I was going I told him I was walking... and his response didn't vary at all. Hmmm.

Anyway, after a quick stop at the ATM, I wandered over to the subway and headed into downtown. My goal was the Daegu YMCA, in order to sign up for Korean lessons, as per a suggestion by Rob, whom I don't actually know. I wandered into the YMCA, and headed into the first office on the ground floor. It turned out to be an office of EnglishFirst, a global ESL company, which has ties with YMCA. The Korean man in the office was very nice, and after telling me that I needed to go upstairs in order to register for Korean lessons, he asked me the usual questions: Where are you from? Why are you in Korea? How old are you? Are you married? No? Why? Then he said that since I was there, would I mind looking over something for him. It was a short English grammar test, which someone (he, I believe) had completed. He asked me to check my answers, and then had me explain why some of our answers differed. Thank goodness I taught New Interchange last year, or I might have been rather at a loss as to what to tell him. Then he directed me upstairs to the YMCA office.

Korean lessons cost roughly $80, and last four months, so it's a pretty good deal. They're held once a week on Saturdays from 11:00 to 1:00, starting on March 17th. I'm quite worried about making it there on time. In fact, the entire past week I tried to get up at 9:30 every morning, and yet somehow didn't manage to roll out of bed until 11:00. I guess we'll see what happens come St. Patty's day. I'm also kind of worried about what level I'm going to be put in. When signing up, I had to select my level of proficiency in Korean in the categories of reading, writing, speaking and listening. Choices were poor, medium, intermediate and advanced. While in actuality I suppose I'm pretty poor in all categories, but as I can read/write hangeul (er, often without comprehension, but I can still do it), and as I can say/comprehend all sorts of random things, I didn't want to select "poor" all across the board. So, I chose two poor and two medium. Who knows what that'll get me. I'm paranoid that I'll end up in a group far beyond my ability. I guess we'll see what happens. In the meanwhile, perhaps I should get my ass in gear and study. Considering how much time I've spent in Korea over the past six years, my limited proficiency in this language is really quite embarrassing.

After signing up for lessons, I wandered around the outdoor shopping areas in downtown (and found some killer earrings to add to my ever growing collection of large and absurd earrings), and decided to walk through the shopping areas between Jungangno and Daegu Station before catching the subway home.

The old fella on my way to work is totally going to enjoy these.

Instead of taking the main pedestrian drag, I found myself roaming the myriad of market alleyways to the east of said pedestrian drag. Along the “precious metals street” I encountered yet another old fellow who wanted to talk. This chap had remarkably good English.

Man: Hello!
Jane: Hello.
Man: Where are you from?
Jane: America.
Man: Oh, you are very beautiful. I want to be your friend.
Jane: Um…
Man: Do you have a husband?
Jane: No…
Man: Oh, good! I can be your friend. How old do you think I am? [He takes off his hat, revealing a balding head]
Jane: [I am notoriously bad at guessing ages] I don’t know.
Man: I’m seventy-one!
Jane: Oh…
Man: Can I buy you lunch? Are you busy? [The thing is, this guy didn’t seem creepy at all, and he probably could have bought me lunch without any problems, but after several unpleasant run-ins with creepy guys met on the street – mainly in Russia – I’ve grown quite wary.]
Jane: I can’t, I’m going to Daegu Station. [Well, I *was* going to Daegu Station, but only to catch the subway.]
Man: Oh, ok. Let me give you my namecard. [“Namecard” is Konglish for “business card” – He pulls one out and scratches off the business information.] I no longer work for this company, I am retired now, but this is my handphone [cell phone] number. I would like to treat you – Korean food, Chinese food, whatever you want!
Jane: [I smile, thank him, and put the card in my purse, knowing that I will never call him.]
Man: Goodbye! You are very beautiful!

Odd Girl Out

Today, on my day off from work in celebration of Independence Movement Day, I have to admit that I've spent most of the day curled up with a book. I’m currently reading Odd Girl Out: The Hidden Culture of Aggression in Girls by Rachel Simmons, which I honestly think everyone should read – especially parents of girls. It’s about the ways in which girls deal with anger and aggression, as opposed to the ways in which boys do. The premise is that boys tend to be more direct in their aggression - physical confrontation - while in contrast, girls use an indirect approach known as relational aggression. Wikipedia's definition of relational aggression is a form of aggression where the group is used as a weapon to assault others and others' relationships. It uses lies, secrets, betrayals and a host of other two-faced tactics to destroy or damage the relationships and social standing of others in the group. [wikipedia article] To be honest, reading this book has brought up a lot of memories. The following is the most vivid.

When I was little, I was an incredibly outgoing kid. I would talk to just about anybody, anywhere. I didn’t worry about making friends; it was just something that happened as I went along. I was very outspoken, too.

That all changed in the third grade. Even though I’m now 28 years old, my third grade year still ranks as one of the worst in my life. Third grade actually started off quite well. T. and H., girls who had been two of my best friends for several years, were in my class. There were also other girls in my class whom I easily befriended. One of these girls was K.

K was a year older than the rest of us; her mother had requested that she be held back, that she repeat the third grade, because she didn’t feel her daughter was mature enough to enter the fourth grade. If only her mother hadn’t made that decision, I probably would have turned out to be a very different person. At the beginning of the year, K became friends with H., T. and me. My birthday was in September, and that year I had my first ever birthday party. I invited six girls, and K. was one of them. We all had a great time.

One day in early October, during recess, as I was approaching T. and K., I heard them talking; they didn’t notice me behind them. K. was asking T. to play with her that day, and specifically asking her *not* to play with H., and T. agreed. I didn’t say anything to them; instead, I went and found H., and repeated the story to her. We concocted a plan to have T. and K. overhear H. asking me not to play with K. We put our plan into action, and that act of retribution was how one of the worst periods of my life began.

Immediately, K. began turning the rest of the class against us. She made up stories about us, told lies to other students about us, and once even told lies about me to my mother (who was a classroom volunteer). Instead of playing K’s game and trying to turn others against her, we simply defended ourselves; yet her campaign of hate was successful. Within a week, my third grade experience had gone from being great to being hell. Additionally, H. and I were enrolled in our school’s Gifted program. This meant that once a week she and I went to a special Gifted class, instead of to regular class with everyone else. For this, K. denounced us as nerds, and said that because we were “Gifted”, we thought we were better than everybody else. In addition to being nerds, she claimed that we were weird, strange, and not the sort of person one should be friends with. Suddenly no one in my class liked me and H. People whom I had liked now refused to talk to me – or if they did talk to me, it was only to call me names or to threaten me. Then, to make matters worse, I got glasses. I certainly need glasses – and I needed them back then – but nothing gives third graders ammunition like glasses. I was taunted relentlessly, and called Four Eyes more times than I could count. I had my glasses snatched off my face during recess. I had them held over my head, just out of reach (I have always been short).

I don’t know if my third grade teacher knew what was going on or not. One thing was certain: K. was one of my teacher’s favorites. K. had been in that class during her first time through third grade. As I mentioned above, she hadn’t failed the third grade; in fact, her grades had been quite decent. As such, she didn’t need to learn the third grade curriculum. Instead, the teacher drafted her to be somewhat of a teacher’s aide, a classroom watchman, and all about helper. Several times I was lectured by my teacher for various actions (both real and imaginary) reported to my teacher by K. The few attempts I made to convince the teacher that K was the one causing problems were met by disbelief and/or the advice of “Don’t be a tattle-tale.”

I had started the third grade outgoing, friendly, willing to strike up a conversation with anybody, and always willing to speak my mind. By the end of the year I was quiet, introverted, speaking only to my closest friends, and often only when spoken to.

I’m 28 now; the events that happened above occurred nineteen years ago, and yet I still think about them periodically. I wonder what my life would have been like had K gone into the fourth grade that year. Or if H. and I hadn’t gone through our retaliatory charade. Or if my teacher had done something to stop K’s behavior. Would I have continued to be gregariously outgoing all through my school years? Would I have lived my life differently? Would I still have become the socially anxious oddball that I am now?