For those who are unaware of Korean relations over the past year, I'll give a quick catchup before hitting today's news. In late spring/early summer of this year, North Korea fired on and sunk a South Korean ship. In late summer, North Korean artillery fired shots into the water between the two countries. Today, however, things changed again.
At around 2:30 p.m. today, North Korean artillery began bombarding Yeonpyeong island, a populated island off the Western coast of South Korea. Many homes were destroyed in the attack, but injuries have only been speculated, among civilians. One South Korean soldier was killed and four were injured. The sourth returned fire and scrambled fighter jets to the island, and the US responded by dispatching F22s to the area.
That was about three hours ago.
Thirty minutes ago, the North picked up the bombardment again, in the same area, and I'm told over 200 artillery shells have hit Southern soil. I don't yet know the results of this attack, but I want everyone at home to know I'm fine. The island IS relatively close to Incheon, but not close enough that I heard the artillery. The North's guns may be quiet again now, but I can't tell you if they are, or if they'll stay that way.
The North's spokesman declared the barrage as a reply to South Korean troops training in that area.
This map shows the location of Yeonpyeong with Incheon being the highlighted area of the Mainland and Incheon airport marked with the jet icon.
Coteachers gravely informed me of the emergency, asking if I was scared. Then their serious faces cracked and they asked if I wanted to run away (-The only direction someone in south korea could "run" to escape the country is North.) It was a joke. Students asked me if I'd heard of the emergency, their faces shining, each wanting to be the first messenger of the misfortune...and then they returned to their computer games.
Surreal, to an American, to imagine shells falling on your homeland, homes on your sovereign soil burning from an enemy military's attack, and children still in school in the city nearest the barrage. Imagine joking about it at work, while you continue business as usual. There's no backlash or anger here. The lack of general fear might serve to put a wary foreigner at ease. And calm reason does tend to help in crisis situations.
But gallows humor?
Excitement?
Where in the hell am I?
It's life as I've never seen it- living in America, it's easy to assume conflict is something that happens within a small village in MiddleEast-istan, or a tribal war in Africa. Either way, neither is much of a threat to the actual safety of Americans going about their lives.
Here, conflict is real. It doesn't creep around in whispered words in foreign neighborhoods, it knocks at the front door with coastal shells. Even as I write this, I wonder if I should feel foolish-
If everyone else is calm, am I worrying for nothing?
Is this only an American's inability to deal with the reality of conflict?
Or is this shell of Korean bravado just a way of dealing with the fact that their elephant in the room is crazy and armed?
Erich Maria Remarque said (of being on the recieving end of artillery) "...we are in a good humor, because otherwise we should all go to pieces."
The response of adopting a holiday mood is, thus, the only one that makes sense. If there is danger, or if there isn't, no one benefits from being panicked. Shells (or worse) may fall on South Korea, but this country understands a reality that Americans (myself included) have yet to fully grasp-
If children begin their martial training at 3 years old
If ALL men of the country must serve in the military
If clear and present danger is understood to be a ridiculous concept (since you always border such danger)
-Then maybe that country won't suffer from the violent inability to handle violence that plagues Americans. I would remind you here that many in the US on September 12, 2001 (the only time in my lifetime where I've seen an enemy attack MY home soil) were crying out to the government to make the middle east a sea of glass.
I've wondered before at this toughened, militarized way of life.
I've seen how it manifests in everyday life. I've seen the people that live it. I've seen what they do.
Thanks for joining me in finding out why.
In a recent update, pressure has been increasing on China to reject North Korea's proposed Nuclear Delivery Device, as China is currently the only country with the manufacturing capacity to deliver on the 1.5 million rubber bands required to power the 2-acre slingshot.
See? I can do it too. I'll be developing weapons-grade wit tonight when I'm done with Taekwondo.
Til next time, I'll keep you updated
Jeff
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Jeff M. Davis vs. Scott Pilgrim vs The World
There are times I have to sit and wonder at the fact that I live in a place old enough to have tales of swordsmen wandering the land. Of kings and empresses, of dynasties and palaces that rose in splendor and fell to ruin. A place so old it has its own mythology. There are times I have to marvel at the fact that I live in a world that much of our video-game driven culture wishes it could glimpse.
If you've ever felt that way,
If you've ever felt that way,
This is for you.
Korea Fantasy VII: The Legend of Jeff-Teacher
Name: JEFFM
Old Woman: Oh that’s right, your name is JEFFM.
Old Man: Oh, those monsters sent by evil emperor KIM are outside, again.
Old Woman: Maybe JEFFM will be the one to save us from them. He certainly did appear on the beach in a storm like the Choson One was prophesied to do.
Old Man: Of course, but we can’t send him out empty handed. Help yourself to our wares!
You got the Travel Bag! You can now carry more items!
Old Man: Off you go, stop by if you ever need a rest from your travels, JEFFM!
A wild CHICKENHOF appeared!
CHICKENHOF was defeated!
CHICKENHOF: AAAAAAARRRRGH! But you're going to need more than that to beat COWBOY ANDY! Hahahahahaha!
>This way to Bupyeong Subway
SUBWAY ENGINEER CID: Hiyaaa, where ya goin?
Arriving at Incheon- Arts Center district
LOTTE GUARD: Who goes there? No one enters LOTTE without a CARD KEY! Do you have a CARD KEY?
Player's Guide Tip: LOTTE can't be accessed at some times on certain days until you obtain the CARD KEY. Until then, try one of the smaller adjacent stores to rest and replenish!
Level Up! JEFFM is now level 23 (in Korean)! JEFFM learned "Taekwondo- Speed"! JEFFM learned "Stop playing now before the soldiers play and embarass me"!
...You can't actually do that in real life.
COWBOY ANDY: Well howdy there, pardner! Did the Bears win the series this year?
Victory!
That's enough playing for now. I gotta stop wasting time on this game and actually DO something with my life today. I wish the real world was this exciting...
Monday, November 8, 2010
15 Hours and a World?
Time changed.
Not for me, but it did. That got me wondering- why does time change in the US, but not here?
Americans sure like our change, huh? Adaptation, progress, change. You see it in every aspect of what we do.
That daylight savings is so six months ago. Time to change.
You bought that car two years ago? Time to change.
You finished college and still live with your parents? Time to change.
The politicians you elected last time haven't saved the world? Time for Change.
Faster, shinier, newer, younger. That building is from thirty years ago-- tear it down for something more up-to-date.
And then there's Korea. Yes, a land of technology and innovation. Yes, a land that has seen unbelievable economic turnaround in the past century. But change isn't the assumption here.
Architectural designs from the 1600s persist today. Traditional martial arts are untainted by the MMA craze. Bloodletting is still proscribed as a cure for stomachache.
Why do I tell you all this now?
It's a good thing you asked. I was really getting into that monologue.
I had a class today with my discussion class where we talked about age. These students are 12-15 years old. Please keep that in mind.
Jeff: What age does someone have to be, in order to be Old?
Students: 60.
Jeff: 50 isn't old?
Students: 50 is young.
Jeff: So your parents (They had previously told me their parents were in their forties and fifties) are young?
Students: Yes.
Jeff: Do your parents think like you?
Students: (Almost unanimously) Yes.
Jeff: Did you know Americans can drive at fourteen? what do you think of that?
Students: That's dangerous. They should have to be older.
...Would you EVER get these answers from American fourteen year olds? How many preteens would tell you their parents aren't old? I can easily picture a classroom full of American high schoolers sitting and calmly informing me they see eye-to-eye with their parents on most issues. And that their parents are young. And that they aren't mature enough to drive. And that video games are bad. And that they would like to have less money. And that Abercrombie and Fitch isn't THE coolest thing ever.
We went on to talk about politics.
Jeff: Do you think you could do a good job being president?
Students: No. We are not old enough.
Jeff: Why is that important?
Students: We don't have experience.
Jeff: How old should a president have to be?
Students: Fifty.
(Readers should note at this point that President Barack Obama is 49 years old-- Twenty years the junior of Korea's President Myeong-Bak Lee. When I informed them that Obama's opponent was around 70 at election time and called too old, they were flabbergasted)
(Flabbergasted is a ludicrously fun word)
(Flabbergasted. hah. Ahem)
Marriage
Jeff: What age do you think people should get married?
Students: 28-29
Jeff: Why then?
Students: By that age, you can be finished with college and have a job, a house, and a car. But not a cheap Daewoo. GM owns them now.
Jeff: Many people I know get married around 22-23. As soon as they finish college.
Students: (shocked gasps) So young?!
Dear America,
You are good at many things. But how many of our sixteen year olds have the maturity to admit that they don't have the maturity to lead a nation? How many sixteen year olds would say such concerns as financial stability and a home and a BMW should determine the time for marriage, rather than Love? This culture is obviously not perfect, but I was very impressed with what I saw today
Also, I can Kip-up and Back-Handspring now. How cool is that? Today I trained in punching speed by attempting to put out a candle flame without touching it- simply with the speed of my punch.
...When I get a training montage (which I will HAVE to at some point this year, before my testing and tournament), it will without question include punching out the fire.
Tune in next week for a photo essay of the light-bridges of Mansu-yuk-dong!
Til then,
Jeff-Teacher
Not for me, but it did. That got me wondering- why does time change in the US, but not here?
Americans sure like our change, huh? Adaptation, progress, change. You see it in every aspect of what we do.
That daylight savings is so six months ago. Time to change.
You bought that car two years ago? Time to change.
You finished college and still live with your parents? Time to change.
The politicians you elected last time haven't saved the world? Time for Change.
Faster, shinier, newer, younger. That building is from thirty years ago-- tear it down for something more up-to-date.
And then there's Korea. Yes, a land of technology and innovation. Yes, a land that has seen unbelievable economic turnaround in the past century. But change isn't the assumption here.
Architectural designs from the 1600s persist today. Traditional martial arts are untainted by the MMA craze. Bloodletting is still proscribed as a cure for stomachache.
Why do I tell you all this now?
It's a good thing you asked. I was really getting into that monologue.
I had a class today with my discussion class where we talked about age. These students are 12-15 years old. Please keep that in mind.
Jeff: What age does someone have to be, in order to be Old?
Students: 60.
Jeff: 50 isn't old?
Students: 50 is young.
Jeff: So your parents (They had previously told me their parents were in their forties and fifties) are young?
Students: Yes.
Jeff: Do your parents think like you?
Students: (Almost unanimously) Yes.
Jeff: Did you know Americans can drive at fourteen? what do you think of that?
Students: That's dangerous. They should have to be older.
...Would you EVER get these answers from American fourteen year olds? How many preteens would tell you their parents aren't old? I can easily picture a classroom full of American high schoolers sitting and calmly informing me they see eye-to-eye with their parents on most issues. And that their parents are young. And that they aren't mature enough to drive. And that video games are bad. And that they would like to have less money. And that Abercrombie and Fitch isn't THE coolest thing ever.
We went on to talk about politics.
Jeff: Do you think you could do a good job being president?
Students: No. We are not old enough.
Jeff: Why is that important?
Students: We don't have experience.
Jeff: How old should a president have to be?
Students: Fifty.
(Readers should note at this point that President Barack Obama is 49 years old-- Twenty years the junior of Korea's President Myeong-Bak Lee. When I informed them that Obama's opponent was around 70 at election time and called too old, they were flabbergasted)
(Flabbergasted is a ludicrously fun word)
(Flabbergasted. hah. Ahem)
Marriage
Jeff: What age do you think people should get married?
Students: 28-29
Jeff: Why then?
Students: By that age, you can be finished with college and have a job, a house, and a car. But not a cheap Daewoo. GM owns them now.
Jeff: Many people I know get married around 22-23. As soon as they finish college.
Students: (shocked gasps) So young?!
Dear America,
You are good at many things. But how many of our sixteen year olds have the maturity to admit that they don't have the maturity to lead a nation? How many sixteen year olds would say such concerns as financial stability and a home and a BMW should determine the time for marriage, rather than Love? This culture is obviously not perfect, but I was very impressed with what I saw today
Also, I can Kip-up and Back-Handspring now. How cool is that? Today I trained in punching speed by attempting to put out a candle flame without touching it- simply with the speed of my punch.
...When I get a training montage (which I will HAVE to at some point this year, before my testing and tournament), it will without question include punching out the fire.
Tune in next week for a photo essay of the light-bridges of Mansu-yuk-dong!
Til then,
Jeff-Teacher
Monday, November 1, 2010
Happy Halloween from Korea!
So the past few weeks I've told you ALL about this place without telling you much about...this place. For an example of what I mean, think of your best friend. how do you describe him or her? Is he tall with blonde hair? Does she have long hair and blue eyes? Is he the guy in the red shirt? ( or "was he the guy in the red shirt?" if you're a star trek fan). Did she have the long, overly elaborate name that either means she lived in the 1460s or her parents don't get out much? We forget how much of even our basic ways of describing who we're talking about are based on coming from an individualistic society.
Korea is not exactly as diverse as America. It's hard to explain what it's like to walk down the streets of a major city and see only one ethnic group. I get attention just for being of a different race. It's really incredible. But it goes further than that.
Yes, very dark brown hair and brown eyes describes 98% of the people I see.
But school uniforms further erase personal lines. And almost every single school has them.
And what if I went on to say that these schools also require school haircuts for both boys and girls?
And every family name I've heard is one syllable, while the first names are two.
So how do you describe someone here without all the factors we take for granted? Well one of my students was trying to tell me about another and described her as the girl with small eyes.
I'm not gonna touch that one.
Either way, the culture is so far divorced from our belief that individuality is an ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY part of life, it still shocks me sometimes.
On a completely unrelated note, I did have a fun and enlightening experience with a class. I'd like to hear your thoughts on it because I may be losing perspective on the issue. When talking to one of my upper-level classes, I had them do a simulation where they decided how to run a government. Their top priorities?
1. Providing care for the elderly
2. A strong military
3. Medical and technological research.
Other options on the list included free hospitals, college grants to students, free k-12 public schools, and even sanitation services. Ever-interesting. I'm not sure I could pinpoint the answers an American school would give as to what the government should spend its money on, but I'm intrigued to hear your thoughts as to how we would rank it. I may have them play the lifeboat game next. THAT will be a challenging day.
I'd like to leave you with one more story, in the spirit of halloween. It's a korean ghost story that all the children down to nine years old knew. It goes something like this
A middle school is preparing for the end of the year, and the students in the classrooms are aware of the rankings- who is the number one student, who is second, who is third. On one of the last few days of the school year, the number two student invites the number one student up for a rooftop celebration of how much butt the two of them kicked on the school. Except the stakes are a little higher than that, you see. The number one student has a much more promising future because of the rank, and the number two knows this. And as they toast each other on the rooftop, 2 pushes 1 off the roof. The class is in mourning as the school year wraps up, and when the final exams are less than a week away, 2 is studying alone in the building late one night. It's storming outside (as outside is wont to do in these stories) and when number two looks out, and sees something strange silhouetted by a flash of lightning, this genre-unaware student pops over for a look. Peering out the window into the darkness, unable to see anything, the student is shocked when the lightning flashes again, showing the eyes of student 1 staring right back through the glass. Student 1 reaches through the window and grabs 2 by the throat, pulling both of them to a very poetic end.
The moral of this story could be one of either two things. It clearly shows how much pressure is on these students. When the children are pushed so hard every day to attend multiple schools and fight for their life in an ever-more-competetive school system, it breaks them, and costs them their childhood. It hurts somewhere inside my chest to see a 10-year-old leaving school at five oclock (her second school of the day) and I ask her if she's headed home now only to be be told that she is headed to another school. There's no doubt in my mind that the first lesson we can take from this story is a warning of the dangers of such a high-pressure school system.
The second lesson is always be student number 3.
'Til next time,
Jeff-Teacher
Korea is not exactly as diverse as America. It's hard to explain what it's like to walk down the streets of a major city and see only one ethnic group. I get attention just for being of a different race. It's really incredible. But it goes further than that.
Yes, very dark brown hair and brown eyes describes 98% of the people I see.
But school uniforms further erase personal lines. And almost every single school has them.
And what if I went on to say that these schools also require school haircuts for both boys and girls?
And every family name I've heard is one syllable, while the first names are two.
So how do you describe someone here without all the factors we take for granted? Well one of my students was trying to tell me about another and described her as the girl with small eyes.
I'm not gonna touch that one.
Either way, the culture is so far divorced from our belief that individuality is an ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY part of life, it still shocks me sometimes.
On a completely unrelated note, I did have a fun and enlightening experience with a class. I'd like to hear your thoughts on it because I may be losing perspective on the issue. When talking to one of my upper-level classes, I had them do a simulation where they decided how to run a government. Their top priorities?
1. Providing care for the elderly
2. A strong military
3. Medical and technological research.
Other options on the list included free hospitals, college grants to students, free k-12 public schools, and even sanitation services. Ever-interesting. I'm not sure I could pinpoint the answers an American school would give as to what the government should spend its money on, but I'm intrigued to hear your thoughts as to how we would rank it. I may have them play the lifeboat game next. THAT will be a challenging day.
I'd like to leave you with one more story, in the spirit of halloween. It's a korean ghost story that all the children down to nine years old knew. It goes something like this
A middle school is preparing for the end of the year, and the students in the classrooms are aware of the rankings- who is the number one student, who is second, who is third. On one of the last few days of the school year, the number two student invites the number one student up for a rooftop celebration of how much butt the two of them kicked on the school. Except the stakes are a little higher than that, you see. The number one student has a much more promising future because of the rank, and the number two knows this. And as they toast each other on the rooftop, 2 pushes 1 off the roof. The class is in mourning as the school year wraps up, and when the final exams are less than a week away, 2 is studying alone in the building late one night. It's storming outside (as outside is wont to do in these stories) and when number two looks out, and sees something strange silhouetted by a flash of lightning, this genre-unaware student pops over for a look. Peering out the window into the darkness, unable to see anything, the student is shocked when the lightning flashes again, showing the eyes of student 1 staring right back through the glass. Student 1 reaches through the window and grabs 2 by the throat, pulling both of them to a very poetic end.
The moral of this story could be one of either two things. It clearly shows how much pressure is on these students. When the children are pushed so hard every day to attend multiple schools and fight for their life in an ever-more-competetive school system, it breaks them, and costs them their childhood. It hurts somewhere inside my chest to see a 10-year-old leaving school at five oclock (her second school of the day) and I ask her if she's headed home now only to be be told that she is headed to another school. There's no doubt in my mind that the first lesson we can take from this story is a warning of the dangers of such a high-pressure school system.
The second lesson is always be student number 3.
'Til next time,
Jeff-Teacher
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Finding Heart-Strength
"Jeff! People die! Ground! You go! Not fear." That is the direction I was given by one of the teachers of Inha Elite taekwondo academy during saturday night's campout. But that wasn't til ten to midnight.
Let me backtrack.
I arrived at six p.m. in time for games and fun. The older students and staff were basically being counselors for the younger kids' games. They played everything from dodgeball to soccer to simon says to more carnival-style games, and we helped out and gave them opponents. This was incredibly helpful for my Korean, and by the end of the night, for the first time, I was putting together sentences with a subject, an adjective, and a verb. Now, I was obviously butchering the tenses and verb forms so thoroughly that I made the opening quote of this update look like Billy Shakespeare himself, but nevertheless, I was communicating.
I also met a university student who was the number one student at Inha (kyobumnim, is the title for top student, I think.) and learned that at his university, he was majoring in Tae Kwon Do. Whoah.
Traveller's Tip: Remember the traveller's tip about not picking fights with Koreans? Some of them literally have a degree in kicking your butt.
So after a few more games and watching videos of the K Tigers demonstration team (who I would encourage you all to look up on youtube) and having one of the ten year olds here point himself out in their championship video (again...whoah...) we all had dinner and settled in to watch How to Train your Dragon (Dragon Taming, in Korean). As the younger students dropped off to sleep and midnight approached, the older students put on our jackets and crept out to the van. I knew very little about what we would actually do when we got there. But the students whisperings about getting sick last time they tried, and the master's stories about the Kui-shin, a ghost or a vampire (I couldnt make out which) who had blood running from her eyes and her mouth certainly set the mood.
On the way, we grooved to the sugary K-Pop sounds of shiNEE and 2NE1 as we climbed the mountians.
We arrived at the tombs, shut off the van, and the world got quiet.
The weather had finally begun to cool, and the heavy mist that was settling on the mountains soaked through the students' jackets until they were huddling and shivering along the rocky trail. One of the younger ones pushed his way closer to me, until he could whisper up to my ear,
"Go there. Arrive. Nightmares."
The trail snaked over a foothill, and a valley opened up before us. A nearly-full moon stretched it's way through the gauze stretched between the ground and the sky, and in the half-light we could see something strange about the valley.
The ground didn't roll and flow in the unpredictable way that nature decorates, with mis-matched streams and trees and hills. Instead if was flat, and patterned like a quilt, with the stitches at even intervals spread across the open grass and up onto the hills beyond. Graves, I learned. Family tombs. Thousands of years worth of them. The Master looked at me.
"Jeff." he pointed to himself. "Grandmother. Sleeping. Here."
The younger students tittered nervously at his poetic choice of word approximation. They were scared, and wanted to make the walk ahead in groups of two or three.
"No." The master said definitively, "Solo go." He pointed to his heart. "Heart strength. give."
We came to a point where the wide trail stopped, and the tombs closed in around it until only one narrow path went ahead. The assistant teacher went first, to wait at the end of the path to ensure that everyone walked the entire length. I learned from the students that I was to go last. The students didn't envy the assistant teacher who would wait there alone. They didn't envy me, either.
As the students disappeared one by one down the path, I had time to look all around. I saw a light move through the graves far away. A car, one of the students whispered to me. Kui-shin car, the teacher whispered in his ear to make him jump. I never did hear an engine.
Some of the graves were newer, machine carved, their Hangul (Korean characters) names still shiny on the marble. Then I noticed the graves further up the mountain. Their brick tombs were crumbling. The names were certainly not laser-carved. And most striking of all, the characters were Chinese. I asked the Master if this was a Chinese area of the cemetary. He explained that many years ago, before they had their alphabet, the Korean people wrote in Chinese characters.
I did the research today. The Korean alphabet was devised in the fifteenth century. These graves could be six hundred years old. And the further I looked up the mountainsides into the fog, the more ruined the graves looked.
Hundreds of years.
Thousands of years.
This is a place that has seen the coming and going of writing systems. This is a history that extends not just through Administrations, but Dynasties.
Finally my turn came.
I set off down the path. a hill rose on my right, and a bank on my left as the path dropped into a ravine. The rocks underfoot gave way to a powdery sand that silenced my footsteps until all I could hear in the fog was my own breathing, and all I could see were the solitary row of tombs on my right that got older as I went further down. The air got colder and quieter as I marveled at how many generations must have visited this place to mourn their ancestors, and then been mourned by their decendents in their own turn. I traced family names up the hillsides until I could no longer see the grave markers. When the assistant teacher finally stepped out to tell me I'd made it, I jumped.
I spun to face him, guard up to protect myself.
"oh, no no, boxing no". He laughed as he marked one of my raised fists, proof of my completion and instructed me to hurry back.
As we left the graves, I hung back for a moment and noticed the Master gesturing backward. When I asked, he smiled and asked me to join him in waving to his grandmother who slept here.
An-nyeong-hi ke-se-yo.
Stay in peace.
Jeff-Teacher
Let me backtrack.
I arrived at six p.m. in time for games and fun. The older students and staff were basically being counselors for the younger kids' games. They played everything from dodgeball to soccer to simon says to more carnival-style games, and we helped out and gave them opponents. This was incredibly helpful for my Korean, and by the end of the night, for the first time, I was putting together sentences with a subject, an adjective, and a verb. Now, I was obviously butchering the tenses and verb forms so thoroughly that I made the opening quote of this update look like Billy Shakespeare himself, but nevertheless, I was communicating.
I also met a university student who was the number one student at Inha (kyobumnim, is the title for top student, I think.) and learned that at his university, he was majoring in Tae Kwon Do. Whoah.
Traveller's Tip: Remember the traveller's tip about not picking fights with Koreans? Some of them literally have a degree in kicking your butt.
So after a few more games and watching videos of the K Tigers demonstration team (who I would encourage you all to look up on youtube) and having one of the ten year olds here point himself out in their championship video (again...whoah...) we all had dinner and settled in to watch How to Train your Dragon (Dragon Taming, in Korean). As the younger students dropped off to sleep and midnight approached, the older students put on our jackets and crept out to the van. I knew very little about what we would actually do when we got there. But the students whisperings about getting sick last time they tried, and the master's stories about the Kui-shin, a ghost or a vampire (I couldnt make out which) who had blood running from her eyes and her mouth certainly set the mood.
On the way, we grooved to the sugary K-Pop sounds of shiNEE and 2NE1 as we climbed the mountians.
We arrived at the tombs, shut off the van, and the world got quiet.
The weather had finally begun to cool, and the heavy mist that was settling on the mountains soaked through the students' jackets until they were huddling and shivering along the rocky trail. One of the younger ones pushed his way closer to me, until he could whisper up to my ear,
"Go there. Arrive. Nightmares."
The trail snaked over a foothill, and a valley opened up before us. A nearly-full moon stretched it's way through the gauze stretched between the ground and the sky, and in the half-light we could see something strange about the valley.
The ground didn't roll and flow in the unpredictable way that nature decorates, with mis-matched streams and trees and hills. Instead if was flat, and patterned like a quilt, with the stitches at even intervals spread across the open grass and up onto the hills beyond. Graves, I learned. Family tombs. Thousands of years worth of them. The Master looked at me.
"Jeff." he pointed to himself. "Grandmother. Sleeping. Here."
The younger students tittered nervously at his poetic choice of word approximation. They were scared, and wanted to make the walk ahead in groups of two or three.
"No." The master said definitively, "Solo go." He pointed to his heart. "Heart strength. give."
We came to a point where the wide trail stopped, and the tombs closed in around it until only one narrow path went ahead. The assistant teacher went first, to wait at the end of the path to ensure that everyone walked the entire length. I learned from the students that I was to go last. The students didn't envy the assistant teacher who would wait there alone. They didn't envy me, either.
As the students disappeared one by one down the path, I had time to look all around. I saw a light move through the graves far away. A car, one of the students whispered to me. Kui-shin car, the teacher whispered in his ear to make him jump. I never did hear an engine.
Some of the graves were newer, machine carved, their Hangul (Korean characters) names still shiny on the marble. Then I noticed the graves further up the mountain. Their brick tombs were crumbling. The names were certainly not laser-carved. And most striking of all, the characters were Chinese. I asked the Master if this was a Chinese area of the cemetary. He explained that many years ago, before they had their alphabet, the Korean people wrote in Chinese characters.
I did the research today. The Korean alphabet was devised in the fifteenth century. These graves could be six hundred years old. And the further I looked up the mountainsides into the fog, the more ruined the graves looked.
Hundreds of years.
Thousands of years.
This is a place that has seen the coming and going of writing systems. This is a history that extends not just through Administrations, but Dynasties.
Finally my turn came.
I set off down the path. a hill rose on my right, and a bank on my left as the path dropped into a ravine. The rocks underfoot gave way to a powdery sand that silenced my footsteps until all I could hear in the fog was my own breathing, and all I could see were the solitary row of tombs on my right that got older as I went further down. The air got colder and quieter as I marveled at how many generations must have visited this place to mourn their ancestors, and then been mourned by their decendents in their own turn. I traced family names up the hillsides until I could no longer see the grave markers. When the assistant teacher finally stepped out to tell me I'd made it, I jumped.
I spun to face him, guard up to protect myself.
"oh, no no, boxing no". He laughed as he marked one of my raised fists, proof of my completion and instructed me to hurry back.
As we left the graves, I hung back for a moment and noticed the Master gesturing backward. When I asked, he smiled and asked me to join him in waving to his grandmother who slept here.
An-nyeong-hi ke-se-yo.
Stay in peace.
Jeff-Teacher
Sunday, October 17, 2010
A place of rest and harmony, nestled amid nightmare fuel
So let me begin by saying that this week wasn't as nightmarish as it COULD have been. But it certainly got the job done. Friday was the day of the kindergarten field trip. Fun, yes, but resulting in a twelve-hour workday for me. We went to the botanical gardens.
Yay!
We saw flowers and ladybugs.
Yay!
We all had Kimbap for lunch.
YAY!
There were hordes of bees and exotic-looking giant green spiders roaming wild through the garden with the children.
...wait.
We watched a movie about prehistoric times with underground blind toothy twin-tongued worms.
...hold on...
In 3D
HOLD ON! Did they KNOW who was watching this? There was definitely some traumatizing happening here! And the children might've been traumatized too!
*shudders* anyway, after the horrors of the botanical gardens, it was an early bedtime night, because nine a.m. the next day would find me at the train station, waiting for another trip with last post's guide.
Destination: Ganghwa Island
Ganghwa Island is relatively close to the shore of Incheon, and has been used for centuries by the Korean people as an outpost against invasions. Because seriously EVERYone has tried to invade Korea.
The Island
The first thing we saw upon entering the island was a 1600s fortress. It was built largely to protect against Japanese invaders who found the western side of Korea provided better access than the closer eastern side. Put in those terms, you kinda have to give the Japanese credit for being really really good at the whole invasion thing. Of course, Europeans would eventually give them a run for their money...
The fort itself consisted of little more than a circular wall with cannon ports built in. The fortress was constructed on a point overlooking the channel between the mainland and the island.
Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention. Look out at the water where the enemies of Korea sailed. Now back to my writing. The enemies have become Americans. That's right.
A History Lesson
In the 1870s, when America was going all Manifest Destiny on the world with awesome shiny guns, we eventually made our way to the East (and I'm sure someone dubbed the Chinese they met "Indians"). American Sailors who landed on the shores of Japan were promptly murdered because of Japan's No Foreigners policy. Well, needless to say, the US government stepped in and Japanese men were wearing business suits and engineering our technology better than we could within a century. Anyway, when the US found out that a similar Closed policy was in place in Korea, battle ensued, as battle is wont to do in history lessons. Three US ships attacked...you guessed it...THIS FORT. The Korean defenders were quickly overwhelmed. My guide was understandably embarassed to translate some of the plaques and inscriptions at this site. But he called in (in a stunning display of understanding the nuances of English) a "happy historical accident" because of the success brought to Korea by its new open-door policy.
This site is the memorial and graves for the fifty-three soldiers killed by the American invasion. Just goes to show you-- even a good relationship between countries is probably complicated.
Who remembers that England burned D.C. to the ground? NOT DURING THE REVOLUTION?
Complicated.
Beautiful eaves on the fortress. But you know what lives under eaves? Wasps. Know what lives under Giant Asian Eaves? Giant Asian Hornets. For those of you who aren't squeamish about bees, look Here
They're very real. And very dangerous. And I had very nightmares about them the very next night.
The Temple
For a change of pace, we then journeyed to a buddhist temple on the edge of a mountain. From the snapping flags, blazing sun, and rushing wind of the seaside fortresses, it was a definite change of pace to the murmuring waters, rustling trees, and quieter landscapes.
Have you ever met a country so polite that the trees bowed to you? For most of this segment, by the way, I'm going to let the pictures speak for themselves and recap at the end.
The Gates
Terraced levels and Tea rooms
Mountain stream water flowing directly out of a rock has refreshed these monks for centuries
This bell was forged in China 1000 years ago. Think about that. Centuries are insufficient to measure its age
The Medicine buddha enshrined at the highest temple.
If you look just inside the 400-year old wooden doors, you'll see the hidden temple guardian, ready to fight off any who enter with the wrong motives. Korea metaphor number two?
View.
The experience was a really amazing one. It was a "this is my life" moment. One where I had to realize that I was living this, not watching a movie with hidden Island temples. Because in that movie there would DEFINITELY be more martial arts. But that will be next weekend.
A Few Final Curiosities
This is Insam (Ginseng, as the Chinese- and by extension the world- would have it). The Chinese characters supposedly mean "man plant". I can see it. But I have a hard time not thinking about Pan's Labyrinth when I see the sickly, pale, moist limbs of this thing. On the positive side, though, according to Koreans, Insam cures many diseases, from the common cold to cancer. as does kimchi. as does massage...
And just for kicks, an open air market selling pumpkins. Almost like home this time of year. But in Iowa the pumpkins aren't next to the salted seaweed.
The CORN is next to the salted seaweed.
I'll keep you updated as often as I can.
Always Exploring,
Jeff-Teacher
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The world is frighteningly fast, fascinatingly unpredicatable, and fun
I've officially had 1000 hits to this blog. And as a way to step back and appreciate my first month here, I'm going to take a post to look a little more seriously at not only why I'm here, but all the reminders I miss every day about how lucky everything is.
But JeffTeacher- you say- whats happening to everything we've come to know and love from 14hoursandaworld? What will we do without your razor-sharp wit, hilariously unbelievable anecdotes, deadpan coolguy style, chiseled abs, and amazing performance in Waiting? - And by this point I'll know you're missing Ryan Reynolds, not me (It's ok, you'll see him in the movies again soon), but I'll reassure you that JeffTeacher will resume his regularly scheduled programming next week.
For today, though, I'd like to start out with an experience that opened my eyes a little. (p.s. If you read to the end, you get pictures)
This weekend, I met a coworker of a friend of a coworker who was an english tour guide. I'd been given his number a week or two back, but hadn't taken the time to call. Well, I finally did, and we set up to meet and touch Incheon on saturday.
When we arrived at the train station, it was raining.
Wonderful, I thought. Our day of travel and exploring, and general foreign-world-experience is cut short. My new friend suggested we get lunch in Chinatown (just a stop or two down the tracks) and I agreed. The rain continued as we rode, and by the time we got there, it was pouring. We grabbed a quick lunch, and before we could get very far, the rain pushed us back, and the ground started looking familiar (which is a very odd experience for me here.) Next thing I knew, we were back in Freedom Park; only this time the open area previously claimed by the father-son baseball game was occupied by a stage that stood defiant of the rain. Canopies crouched precariously over the performers and viewers alike, interrupting the show every now and then to pour the water they were supposed to be holding back onto the unsuspecting audience.
fun.
And then a new performance started. Dramatic Chinese music blared. A man in an eye-cauterizingly theatrical costume leapt from behind the stage, his face a mystery behind a green silk mask. My guide gasped.
Bian-Lian-- he whispered to me -- Chinese face changers. Watch.
And watch I did. And I made faces usually reserved for movie characters watching fireworks.
You see, Bian-Lian performers perform a dance in a mask, and then change their mask suddenly with sleight-of-hand. And you don't see where the old mask went or where the new one came from. The performer's sleeve flicks before his eyes, only a quarter-second, and his new mask is there like he was wearing it from the beginning. The changes get faster and faster, and by the end, he's changing his mask without covering the changes and still, no one can tell how he's doing it.
When the performance finishes, and he drops the final mask to smile and bow, my guide explains to me that this is an ancient national secret of China- the trick is kept secret save for a few 3000+ year-families. Foreigners almost NEVER get to see this. In fact, only one man has ever performed it in America, I learned later. A true Mystery of the East.
The Acquaintance.
The Properly-timed Phone Call.
The Rainstorm.
The Detour.
Face Changing.
Every step led up to it. I could've never known or planned it. Chance, coincidence, who knows? either way, I got the chance of a lifetime.
Then it hit me....where do I think I AM? I had no intentions of going abroad. One day my mother suggested it as a "this is interesting" and I let it slide for awhile. Then I began to study Chinese. Then I visited China. But the program in China was much more difficult. Then out of the blue, at a I met someone at meet-and-greet I hadn't even planned to attend, and I learned of the opportunity in Korea. Plans changed, applications were filled out, applications fell through, new applications, new fallthroughs, applications, success!, fall-through, and finally, through some mess of determination, chance, and help, I landed in Lifetown apartments in Incheon with no real idea of what twister had blown me here or what I was going to find once I got some new shoes.
I had no Idea I'd end up going to a church (an invitation I hadn't expected) and meeting many helpful and wonderful english-speakers of all ages.
I had no Idea I'd end up learning so much about Korea, Korean, and Koreans at a Taekwondo gym. (based on an offhand opportunity to which I said "why the hell not?")
I had no Idea I'd end up having such a powerful link to home when I went phone-shopping and decided to buy the good one.
The moral of the story is that when I have no routine to fall back on, the best way I've found to keep my life an adventure is to always be looking for the new opportunities. Not to expect them, but to be ready to take them.
Traveller's Tip: Say "why the hell not?"
I'm not as eloquent as I'd like to be, so at this point I'll give the floor to an eloquent character by an eloquent writer.
"This is an orchestration for an event. For a dance, in fact. The participants will be appraised of their roles at the proper time. For now it is enough that they have arrived...none here can finally comprehend the reason for his presence, for he has no way of knowing even in what the event consists."
-Judge Holden, Blood Meridian
Well, I can no longer top the previous paragraph's writing, so I'll let my pictures have the floor.
Life is a bold, dashing adventure.
But JeffTeacher- you say- whats happening to everything we've come to know and love from 14hoursandaworld? What will we do without your razor-sharp wit, hilariously unbelievable anecdotes, deadpan coolguy style, chiseled abs, and amazing performance in Waiting? - And by this point I'll know you're missing Ryan Reynolds, not me (It's ok, you'll see him in the movies again soon), but I'll reassure you that JeffTeacher will resume his regularly scheduled programming next week.
For today, though, I'd like to start out with an experience that opened my eyes a little. (p.s. If you read to the end, you get pictures)
This weekend, I met a coworker of a friend of a coworker who was an english tour guide. I'd been given his number a week or two back, but hadn't taken the time to call. Well, I finally did, and we set up to meet and touch Incheon on saturday.
When we arrived at the train station, it was raining.
Wonderful, I thought. Our day of travel and exploring, and general foreign-world-experience is cut short. My new friend suggested we get lunch in Chinatown (just a stop or two down the tracks) and I agreed. The rain continued as we rode, and by the time we got there, it was pouring. We grabbed a quick lunch, and before we could get very far, the rain pushed us back, and the ground started looking familiar (which is a very odd experience for me here.) Next thing I knew, we were back in Freedom Park; only this time the open area previously claimed by the father-son baseball game was occupied by a stage that stood defiant of the rain. Canopies crouched precariously over the performers and viewers alike, interrupting the show every now and then to pour the water they were supposed to be holding back onto the unsuspecting audience.
fun.
And then a new performance started. Dramatic Chinese music blared. A man in an eye-cauterizingly theatrical costume leapt from behind the stage, his face a mystery behind a green silk mask. My guide gasped.
Bian-Lian-- he whispered to me -- Chinese face changers. Watch.
And watch I did. And I made faces usually reserved for movie characters watching fireworks.
You see, Bian-Lian performers perform a dance in a mask, and then change their mask suddenly with sleight-of-hand. And you don't see where the old mask went or where the new one came from. The performer's sleeve flicks before his eyes, only a quarter-second, and his new mask is there like he was wearing it from the beginning. The changes get faster and faster, and by the end, he's changing his mask without covering the changes and still, no one can tell how he's doing it.
When the performance finishes, and he drops the final mask to smile and bow, my guide explains to me that this is an ancient national secret of China- the trick is kept secret save for a few 3000+ year-families. Foreigners almost NEVER get to see this. In fact, only one man has ever performed it in America, I learned later. A true Mystery of the East.
The Acquaintance.
The Properly-timed Phone Call.
The Rainstorm.
The Detour.
Face Changing.
Every step led up to it. I could've never known or planned it. Chance, coincidence, who knows? either way, I got the chance of a lifetime.
Then it hit me....where do I think I AM? I had no intentions of going abroad. One day my mother suggested it as a "this is interesting" and I let it slide for awhile. Then I began to study Chinese. Then I visited China. But the program in China was much more difficult. Then out of the blue, at a I met someone at meet-and-greet I hadn't even planned to attend, and I learned of the opportunity in Korea. Plans changed, applications were filled out, applications fell through, new applications, new fallthroughs, applications, success!, fall-through, and finally, through some mess of determination, chance, and help, I landed in Lifetown apartments in Incheon with no real idea of what twister had blown me here or what I was going to find once I got some new shoes.
I had no Idea I'd end up going to a church (an invitation I hadn't expected) and meeting many helpful and wonderful english-speakers of all ages.
I had no Idea I'd end up learning so much about Korea, Korean, and Koreans at a Taekwondo gym. (based on an offhand opportunity to which I said "why the hell not?")
I had no Idea I'd end up having such a powerful link to home when I went phone-shopping and decided to buy the good one.
The moral of the story is that when I have no routine to fall back on, the best way I've found to keep my life an adventure is to always be looking for the new opportunities. Not to expect them, but to be ready to take them.
Traveller's Tip: Say "why the hell not?"
I'm not as eloquent as I'd like to be, so at this point I'll give the floor to an eloquent character by an eloquent writer.
"This is an orchestration for an event. For a dance, in fact. The participants will be appraised of their roles at the proper time. For now it is enough that they have arrived...none here can finally comprehend the reason for his presence, for he has no way of knowing even in what the event consists."
-Judge Holden, Blood Meridian
Well, I can no longer top the previous paragraph's writing, so I'll let my pictures have the floor.
The sign on the elevator that greets students headed to my school on the fourth floor.
Kindergarten hallways kindof look the same all over the world, huh?
My desk in the teachers lounge: no super-cool gadgets, just lots of books
Ando Lamyun. Chinese dumplings, Japanese noodles, Korean spices: a fitting metaphor.
The entrance to Glamorous Lifetown Apartments!
The streets of Incheon by night. Beautiful in a techno-future kind of way.
Thanks for the first 1000 reads. I hope to give you more reasons to keep coming back.
Life is a bold, dashing adventure.
Jeff-Teacher
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