American Hwarang

Today's update begins hundreds of years ago, really, with the foundation of a group called the Hwarang.  In the 5th century, the King of Silla (in what would later become Korea) would recruit young men from good families into an elite group he called Hwarang.  Hwarang means a Flower Knight, a young man who is progressing to adulthood with an added nobility to his already respectable rank. 

The Hwarang left their homes for places of great natural beauty.  There they learned the arts of combat, studied philosophy, and practiced emotional and mental control in these places-- searching for inspiration in the strange, beautiful locales of Korea.  The land and the warrior culture played as a rich muse to them, and through them was developed the tradition of the warrior-intellectuals of Korea. 

Hwarang culture believed a young man should be able to defeat countless enemies in combat, write poetry that could stun royal courts to silence, ride faster than simple men would believe, sing and dance before a crowd, and appreciate and debate the finer points of the great works of philosophy and literature.  

 Hwarang were regarded as the most effective soldiers on the battlefield.

The greatest writers of their time.

And finally, as teachers.

As anyone who has seen a movie set in Asia will know, the cherry-blossoms are an important part of this culture.  And for good reason.  It's at the time of the cherry-blossom festival that my story here begins.

It was the time of year for a change of pace.  I was two-thirds of the way through, an important milestone.  Finished were the months of black coats shivering through white wind.  With the flowering trees, spring was actually starting, and the breeze brought the smell of it.

Anyone who has lived in a place long enough to see it in bloom will recognize immediately the smell of their town in the summer.  You may not even realize it, but when the first spring breeze arrives -- the first time the wind feels soft instead of vicous, anyone will remember--

"...that's right, my world smells like this.  I can't believe I'd forgotten."

So it was here, when the rain was finally refreshing, not icy, that the spring-smell brought what I realized with shock was nostalgia.  I had, in fact, lived here long enough to be able to look back and wistfully remember old times here. 

Spring.

Huh.

I needed a haircut.

Something trendy and Korean.  Something that'll take a little more work each day, but in this part of the world at least, there's no excuse for not looking good.

With spring going all around, it was time for another change-  time to see if all of my martial arts were going to pay off.   

On saturday, I arrived at the Dojang at 8:00 a.m., and had one final practice before joining thirteen other candidates for Taekwondo testing at the Kukkiwon

We all rode out from our school together, through the unbelievably hectic interstates that make up Korea's highway system.  The assistant master drove through the onslaught of traffic.  At one point we were cut off by a car that dove in just a few feet in front of us, screeching on its brakes.  Our car was in the next lane, out of harm's way before I even realized the danger.  No one else seemed even remotely surprised.  I suppose I shouldn't have been either.  As we got closer, we encountered students from our rival school, Yong In Dae, riding ahead of us, pictured above.

 The testing facility was a massive dome, whose stands were a sea of white uniforms.  Imagine going to your favorite sporting event, but the outnumbered audience is on the field, and all the bleachers are full of the athletes. 

 Featured prominently, hanging from the ceiling was the Korean flag.  My teacher (pictured above) explained how I would be tested. 

 First, I would stand before a panel of judges and perform the TaeGuk forms and kicks required, along with all of the other candidates

 Then, candidates would equip themselves with sparring gear and fight two short rounds with another candidate as an opponent, while being graded on their performance.

 Finally, each candidate would be asked to punch his or her way through a board, held by black belts who had already passed the test.

This is the general protocol, but it glossed over the details.
First, the massed ranks pictured performing the forms were young students testing for their junior black belts(black and red).  Hundreds tested at the junior level, testing for their poom belts.  I was testing for a true adult black belt (black).  And only four candidates were testing in the adult, dan, category.
Second, my sparring opponent was not who I had expected.  He wasn't a steely-eyed, military-bound, Bruce-Lee-type.  He wasn't a he at all.  I had been matched up against the only female candidate in the adult level, and the president of my school instructed me beforehand to decrease my power for the fight while still demonstrating all my skill, because that is the expected manner for a male candidate facing a female.
Finally, after watching each other candidate punch through a board, I was fairly confident, and broke mine with ease.  The observing official then commanded the holder double the boards and try again.

The flowering trees were in full bloom as we arrived back at the academy in the warm midday sunshine.  It will be another ten days until I know for certain if I can claim the rank of black belt, I learned as we drove home.  But the master and assistant master of InHa Elite briefed me on (what they considered) my successful performance.

I had complete both forms and all the kicks-- without the speed of some of the other candidates, but with a certainty and power which they told me many Taekwondo practitioners unfortunately lack.

I had shown good skill in my sparring match, being the clear victor.  But I had also showed control of my actions and restraint

And I had easily turned the single and double boards into double and quadruple half-boards.  In this test, at least, I was truly confident in my performance.  I owe a wizened sage of the martial arts in Ames, Iowa a great deal of gratitude for the speed and power of those punches.

While I'm still not certain I will have the official stamp of approval of the Kukkiwon board, I do know that I have learned many things about the martial arts in these eight months of training.  I've learned to fight faster and sharper, and with greater ease and balance than ever before. 

If you look at the Korean flag, you'll notice that their yin-yang symbol isn't black and white like the Chinese variant- it's blue and red.  The blue and red are the two different sides of the human personality: passion and thought.  In the final days before my testing, I was told by my teacher that I am someone who fights with passion.  For this reason, at the insistence of the master, I fought for my school, my belt, my pride, and my future in armor and a headguard that were unquestionably, strikingly, perfectly

Red.

To Combat,

Jeff M. Davis

And happy Easter from the land of the Hwarang.

Teacher?

I've done a lot of talking on here.  I've talked as a traveller about the sights of Korea.  I've talked as a ninja, about the new and interesting ways I daily learn to make badguys' faces go ouchie.  I've even talked as a poet about being inspired by a fantastical land.  But none of those are really my job. 
So this week I'm going to take a little break from all of those and do something Jeff-teacher should've been doing on here long ago:  teach language. 
First of all, let me be frank with everyone.  Every (especially monolingual) English speaker needs to know something that will be absolutely vital to today's lesson:
English
Is
Complicated.
Yes, we've all got it figured out.  And we use it unbelievable amounts every day.  Some of us may even be quite good at it.  I know I aspire to hold that title.  And through a good deal of practicing writing and speaking, I've come to be pretty darn competent at speakin Amurrican.  The problem, however, comes when a student doesn't ask me HOW to make a sentence, but why I phrased it that way.  Here, you know what?  Let me show you

Take this sentence:
I would like to have gotten a black belt by the time I leave.

The subject of this sentence is fairly obvious- I.  the sentence is about me.
There are two nouns in here, time, and black belt.
Verbs?  Now we get into trouble
would like, have gotten, leave.  A sentence describing a single action takes five verbs?  uh oh.
not to mention all the 'to's and 'the's and 'a's with which English loves to garnish such magnificent spreads.

And why do we say "have gotten" and not "have"?
well, one describes the act of acquiring the belt, the completion of training, the other is just a state of being in possession of---
And if you had tried to answer this question in this manner, your 12 year old Korean student's eyes would've glazed over, before rewarding you with a meek "ok"  and returning to her seat.

When you try to put the whole picture together for every sentence, the question of why we phrase things the way we do becomes more and more daunting, as you realize that almost everything you know about English, you just know. 
Great.
Now teach.

Possibly (read: certainly without a doubt) compounding the problem is the inherent vagueness in much of the Korean language.  As with last time, I'll give you an example.  I was studying my Korean textbook with my language exchange partner this weekend, when I came across a sentence whose every word I could translate.  For all the help that did me, the sentence may as well have been in Aramaic.
It read, literally,
Movie like.
I asked my language partner, what does that mean?  She was surprised I couldn't understand, after all, the words were English now.

It means, she told me, like movie.

Like movie?  These two words are insufficient to carry meaning in English, and could mean all manner of things.
I like this movie.
I would like a movie.
I like movies (Korean words are often ambiguous as to singular or plural)
Do you like movies? (there is no subject in the Korean sentence).
I had to supply several sentences in English relating to the topic before a meaning could be discovered (it did in fact mean I like movies)

Of course, English speakers often speak in incomplete sentences (see the game last night?), but this is only in casual conversation.  Textbook Korean is indeed this vague. 
So the next time I curse helping verbs, or the present continuous tense in English, it might be a good reminder for me to again appreciate whether I movie like.

I'd like to make a final note here before signing off.  I recently had an international study brought to my attention that showed Korean students as the single group who graduated with the lowest social skills of all the countries surveyed.  And when you think about it, they never really had a chance at this competition.

• Most of the students I've met, starting at middle school, are in all boys or all girls schools, because having the opposite sex in class detracts from studying
• Students' regulated haircuts and uniforms are to prevent- you guessed it- appearances from distracting from study
• Students in class are conditioned not to take initiative in discussion, but to instead sit passively and note-take
• When offered the choice between training in multiple choice test-taking skills and training in better speaking and writing, the students will choose the test skills (in my experience) because their speaking and writing skills will not get them into a university or a job, their test skills will. 

So essentially a group of students who are actively prevented from learning to talk to the opposite sex, learning to dress and groom themselves independently, learning to speak in class, and learning to speak and write their own ideas at all are being pitted against the western world's students in exactly these categories. 
Are you surprised at all?   Would you go to the Kentucky derby and bet on a fish?  (a consistent individual will have the same answer to those two questions, for the record).
The counter may be made by those who have seen the international reports that Americans are consistently outscored by Koreans on fair globalized, standardized tests- that socializing is nice, but Korean students graduate much better prepared to achieve high-paying jobs.  To everyone who bemoans the diminishing ability of American graduates to keep up with their better educated peers in the East, I offer a single, simple reminder, a third test if you will, to the socially skilled American and the academically skilled Korean

And this test will take place in a job interviewer's office.


If you can't baffle them with your brilliance, bedazzle them with your BS,
Jeff-Teacher

Ninja Level Up!

Well, it's about that time, wouldn't you say?
What time IS it, Jeff-teacher?



It's ninja time.

Have you ever wanted to be a ninja?  You could win any fight with a pack of lions, hide in the shadows behind a drinking fountain, leap as if you could fly, balance on a blade of grass, fly, teleport, and walk on water.  You would have tiger blood AND Adonis DNA.  You could stare down Chuck Norris and his beard would strangle him in panic.  You would be a Jedi, a Knight Templar, a Man in Black, all in The Matrix.  You would be able to teleport EVEN MORE pop culture references into this paragraph.   Matt Damon.

Well, everybody may not be kung fu fighting, but your intrepid teacher/poet/blogger/fashionplate sure has been.  The world is long overdue for a glimpse into the secret ninja schools of Korea.  This glimpse will roundhouse kick your face off.

Taekwondo:
We're into the final month of my training now, with the test fast approaching on April 23rd.  I have learned every form up to and including the Black Belt form Taeguk Pal-jang.  That form is required for the test.  The other form will remain shrouded in a cardboard box of secrecy on a torn slip of paper probably enchanted by a mountain sage.  Probably.  After the two form tests, I will perform a display of my kicking ability.  Then I will break boards.  I have never broken boards, nor have I actually recieved training in how to do this.  Fortunately, I'm supposed to break them with a punch.  Many other students at my school dislike this option.  They wish they could chop, or kick.
This boxer smile and begs them "oh no, please don't throw me in that there briar patch!  Anything but that!"
And for my final test, I'll have to fight another black belt.  Winning would be nice here, but it's insufficient for victory.  I've considered using tactics they're completely unused to (Tukkong, boxing, not showering for three weeks before) in order to win, but it turns out I am actually being judged on my ability to fight using taekwondo.  Unorthodox tactics?  no dice.
After that?  Who knows.  Maybe I'll recieve enlightenment.

NINJA TIP:  Lost your passport in an airport?  Assassinate everyone around you and take theirs.  With your ninja mask on, you'll surely be able to pass for one of them.

Tukkong Musul.
First test complete!  And what a scene it was.  Picture, if you will...
The Tukkong studio:  a much shabbier place than the shiny new Taekwondo studio.  This dojang (Korean for Dojo) is unheated, un-air-conditioned, in a building with crumbling walls and stale cigarette smoke and mildew in the stairs.  But through the steel door emblazoned with the eagle of the Korea World Tukkong Assosciation, things get different in a hurry.  Yes, the students near the portable gas heater are boiling, and yes the students by the thin windows are shivering, but every green belt (third level) student here is an equal match for any black belt at the Taekwondo school.  Come testing day, however, things get serious.
The Instructor's desk is moved to the front of the Dojang, and hung with the flag of the Assosciation.  In perfect rows, we kneel at the back.  Names are called.  Test takers are acknowledged.  The testing begins.
My name is called.
I rise from the kneeling ranks,eyes watching me and wondering "can the foreigner really do it?"
"I am Jeff" I declare in korean.  (somewhere, a gladiator is wishing he could sue me)
I bow, giving the fist-in-hand salute, advance to the testing area, and strike the attack stance.
The instructor calls out the commands, and I begin.
I cycle through the blocks, strikes, and stances, calling their names.
"Geongyeok! Pangeo! Pyeongjasae! Abgubi!-" I try to keep my mind two steps ahead, so I never have to hesitate.  Finishing the stances, I take up the striking pose.  The instructor gives the go-command.
"Jongkwan! Kwansuk! Deungkwan! Ansudo!-" My mind slips.  I can't remember the name of the knuckle strike that targets the xyphoid process at the tip of the sternum.  I run through the list, my body on autopilot, carelessly beating the ever-loving crap out of the helpless air in front of me.  A fraction of a second before the strike comes up, it comes back to me,
"Jungjikwan!"
The strikes and blocks fly by, and I give a final kiyap (that whole HIYA! thing), and hit the last pose.
"Baro", the instructor commands me to return.  I bow and kneel at the back. 
Two days later, I drop my rookie rank forever and join the multicolored multitudes with my still-creased yellow belt. 

I did eventually come to a decision about how to leave my mark on this world as a Badass.  A creed doesn't last the way the sculptures and pottery of the Romans and Greeks did.  So one my exploits are known around the world, I would like to be depicted as the heroes and myths used to be:
Armed with their trademark weapon, defeating powerful enemies, and heroically nude.
I'm only willing to compromise on two of those.

Oh, one last ninja-note.  A student told me my female co-teacher watched Dragonball Z.  I found it strange that a woman who was several years my senior watched this martial arts Japanese cartoon.  I asked her about it in the office.
"Yes of course!  Which series of it?"
"Are you talking about Dragonball?" my supervisor asked.
Before I knew it, every single Korean teacher was discussing their favorite characters in the show, and I could only catch occasional names as they all slipped back into korean.  The youngest among them was 27, and others were in their thirties.  Our concept of Anime-Nerd is largely irrelevant here.


I'll leave you with this thought, from the Ask A Ninja,

What CAN'T a ninja do?
Not be a ninja.



...or can we?


'Til next time,
Jeff-Teacher

Evening News

Aaaand you're watching 14HoursAndAWorld- once again 14 Hours away from my native home.  Here... are tonight's top stories!
Jeans!  Are you really getting what you think you're getting?
And, your opportunity to be a part of the 14 Hours and a World experience-
Can you write?  This station needs your help!

Tonight's top story is jeans.  You've seen them everywhere: on the fashion conscious youth, on cowboys in the movies, smuggled into the Soviet Union at impossible prices, jeans are an indespensably American mark on the world.  Everyone has their favorite pair, you probably know your size and the fit you like by heart- But what if the jeans you bought simply didn't match up?
To find our answer, we sent our one reporter to the crowded shopping centers of Korea in an attempt to find a pair of jeans that fit his taste.  Jeff?

Thanks Jeff.  I'm here buying a pair of jeans, and let me tell you, it's not the easy, laid back experience it is at American Eagle in Coralville, Iowa.  As you can see, the crowd is packed in, jostling around me.  The store itself is not much bigger than most people's bedrooms...and that's just how the Koreans like it.  With space at a premium in this country, you rarely find a store the size of an American store.  So we have to do without luxuries like room or dressing rooms.  In a rare few stores, there will be a curtain in one corner that can hide the changer.  But in many, like this store, it's not an option.  So all I've got to go on are my size and fit preferences...And even those won't be what I'm expecting.  Having never bought clothes in metric sizes, its very confusing to see a size 74 jean or a shoe in 835- but that's not the end of it. 
     You see, in America, we like our jeans to fit loose, straight leg, slim, or skinny.  And if you look on the shelf behind me, you'll see those same labels.  Unfortunately for unsuspecting americans, buying a loose fit jean here will get you a US-slim.  Buying straight leg will get you skinny.  Slim fit here is often skinnier than american skinny jeans.  As for korean skinny fit- I would only advise them for olympic swimmers or super heroes.  Jeff?

Thanks, Jeff.  Tonight's broadcast needs help from the viewers!  Our field correspondent has the story.

Jeff here, as you know if you've been following my recent reality martial arts series Ninja Strike Death Power Warrior, I'm participating in Korea's cultural martial arts both traditional and modern with the goal of facing a champion of each art after my shortened period of training.  In colloquial english, someone who engages in such an activity is known as a Badass.  Tvtropes defines this term:

A character who gets away with outright insane stunts (defusing a bomb with their teeth, conning a mob boss, getting into a firefight with the entire army, etc.) that would be VERY hard to pull off in real life. A Badass is a fantasy figure whom the audience roots for precisely because they break or stretch the Willing Suspension Of Disbelief.

                                                 - Tvtropes on Badass

On a related topic, this authority specifies that such a character will often have a creed which specifies how and why they go about their business. The president has the Oath of Office, Green Lantern has a creed (“in brightest day...”) Police have Serve and Protect, the Gunslingers have their own (“I do not aim with my hand...”), Doctors have their own oath (that whole “do no harm” thing)...the list goes on and on.

The challenge to everyone out there tonight is this: If I am to join these coveted ranks, I should have a creed to go along with it. Where to begin? Truth, Justice and perfectly styled hair? Neither rain, nor snow, nor kimchi...? The answer is in your hands. Selected entries will be featured in an upcoming edition of Ninja Strike Death Power Warrior. Many will enter, few will win. Please leave entries in the Comments section.

 On a more serious note, to everyone who is worried- no there's no dangerous radiation here yet.   We're all very worried about Japan though. The whole world is waiting (or should be) to see the fate of the nuclear-threatened nation. The death toll rises daily, refugees are without heat, please don't forget what has happened. Even Koreans, many of whom bear a hatred toward Japan that most westerners can't fathom, were among the first to arrive to aid in the rescue, cleanup, and reconstruction efforts. Please don't think of this only in terms of what beef or yoghurt you shouldn't buy. I would ask only that you make yourself aware of what actually occurred in the tragedy and its aftermath. If that motivates you to give any kind of aid, it will be appreciated by a nation in need.
If anyone remembers Requiem Gilkyson from chamber choir years ago, it's definitely in the forefront of my mind again.

mother mary, full of grace, awaken
all our homes are gone, our loved ones taken
taken by the sea
mother mary, calm our fears, have mercy
drowning in a sea of tears, have mercy
hear our mournful plea
our world has been shaken,
we wander our homelands forsaken
in the dark night of the soul
bring some comfort to us all,
o mother mary come and carry us in your embrace
that our sorrows may be faced
mary, fill the glass to overflowing
illuminate the path where we are going
have mercy on us all
in fun'ral fires burning
each flame to your myst'ry returning
in the dark night of the soul
your shattered dreamers, make them whole,
o mother mary find us where we've fallen out of grace,
lead us to a higher place
in the dark night of the soul
our broken hearts you can make whole,
o mother mary come and carry us in your embrace,
let us see your gentle face, mary
                                                        -Eliza Gilkyson

Til next time,
Jeff-Teacher

And now, a word from viewers like You!

To the writers of the Jeff M. Davis Show,

First of all, let me say I'm a big fan. Great casting, great writing, really believable characters, love it all. This show has had its ups and downs, but it has just gotten better with the last few seasons. That is actually what prompted me to write to you today- the most recent season. What happened there? You had a wonderful drama/intrigue series going along and then decided a scifi/fantasy would be better?

              Let's talk about Jeff, though. Obviously, it's important to get the title character right. You'd had wonderful development of the character the past three seasons, creating more interesting personal dramas and plans for him to create and escape from. Jeff was an amazingly complex cynical mastermind type, the sort of hero you love to hate. And whoever costumed for him did an amazing job with the perfectly flipped up hair and thin ties, I have to admit I had suit envy on more than one occasion. But now what- a kindergarten teacher? Trying to make a difference in people's lives? No plotting? Asian bangs and combat boots? And no offense intended, but Jeff is a Midwest American white boy who had been on a boxing team for one semester. The whole ninja powers stuff...come on. One more thing. I realize you had to cast an attractive actor for the lead role, but you don't need to have all the passerby exclaim that he's a “handsome guy”. He's not that good-looking.

               As for the show itself, it's clear what you're trying to do, and as a firm believer in capitalism, I appreciate the need to appeal to an audience. But you're pushing the bounds of believability here with having two gratuitous fight scenes per episode. And a bombing of a first world country? You know those don't happen very often, right? About the swordsmen in the subway and the pocket-sized navigator-communicator-research device, willing suspension of disbelief only goes so far. As for neglecting to provide pants to all the females in minor roles-- I understand you have the thirteen-year-old male audience to worry about, but no one's gonna believe people actually dress like that.
                Regarding the cast...what was so wrong with the one you had? Last season was probably one of the better casts the show had seen, with wonderful leadership politics and excellent performances by the actors. There was great tension between complimentary and opposing personalities, there were dramatic situations galore, there was romance and character development...And what did you do with them? Swapped them out for foreigners so you could have cheap culture shock humor (and I still don't believe Koreans consider it polite to tell someone they look bad today). You took out the romantic tension of will-they-or-won't-they and made last season's love interest his actual girlfriend (and we all know Jeff doesn't do the whole relationship thing). AND you traded all of the excellent driving sequences for high kicks and mountain temples.

                 The camera and directing need mentioned here too. Last season had a really closely-shot intimate feel to the camerawork. All of the scenes felt like you were right there in the rooms with the characters, like your world was really as small as theirs. This year's director seems obsessed with sweeping panoramas of mountains or rivers (the number of times you've had “crossing the Han River into Seoul” shots is getting ridiculous) or worse, concrete jungle shots. I realize there are many cool places to see. But you can only appreciate the beauty around you for so long before you start to miss the people hidden on the other side of the shot.

                  Like many of my friends, these were the staples of why we returned to the show every week. The Jeff M. Davis show was the pinnacle of clever dialogue and intriguing drama in our tv regimens. Your turning our favorite suave trickster into a futuristic action hero in a fantasy land is going to alienate a lot of your fanbase. The unsubtitled foreign language bits don't really help either.

Sincerely,
A Concerned Viewer

P.S.
Whatever happened to the Traveler's Tips segments? Those were great stuff!

P.P.S.

Changing the soundtrack entirely to Korean Pop was actually a really good choice, though.  So catchy!

Ooooooooh! We're half-way the-ere!

OOOO-OOOH!  LIVIN ON A i totally just made you sing my title in your head.  But truly, we are halfway there, as I now have less time left in Korea than I have already spent in Korea.  To all my readers who have stuck with me til now, I salute you.  Six more months of this, right?  And holy cow is it ever going fast/slow! (choose appropriate adjective.) 
Because it does feel both, at times.
With my schedule changes, Wednesdays are now an endless slog of classes, without break from the time my workday officially starts at 2:40 until my last class ends at 8:30.  And then I'm required to stay until ten, writing lessons-- So there are days where it feels like the year is moving uphill through six feet of snow. 
And then there are the sunday nights like tonight, after the weekends have flashed by, where I realize another week is gone, and I have to wonder what opportunities I've missed in Korea this week- what sights I've sacrificed seeing so I could catch up on sleep, make it to my lessons, or survive as a teacher. 
Boy oh boy, living gets in the way of Living sometimes.

Korean lessons continue to improve my chances of actually doing something with a Politics degree- I still can't converse fluently in the language, but at least the basic sentence structures are slowly unfolding in the conversations of people around me.  Words were one thing to pick out, but picking out the to-whoms and command forms are an entirely different story.  And let's not even start on honorifics (words that change in length and pronunciation when talking to someone older, younger, the same age, or a different sex than you).  The language is certainly not a simple one.

But then, neither is English.  I'm now teaching the highest-level grammar class instead of my former conversation class, and it has forced me to admit-- I know absolutely no English grammar terminology.  Can I tell you what sentence is right and which is wrong?  Absolutely!  I'll even throw in a correct version to sweeten the deal, and give you a free pine-tree shaped air-thingy that smells like stale Nilla Wafers to hang on the mirror.  But when asked "What is the object of this sentence?"...I had only my college education to rely on.
And that education was in politics and speaking.
Well, let's see what the answer book says...Why do you think it says that?  Who can tell me what the object is in this similar sentence?  Good, David. Does that help, Susan? 
But blustering can't hold one forever (outside of the US senate).  Eventually they realized I didn't have all the answers, I hadn't planned to lead them to the conclusion they reached, and sometimes I just plain didn't know what I was talking about.  And that's the point when I had to tell the class, "You're right on question four.  Sometimes I'm wrong too, that's ok."


Were this an inspirational blog or a sit-com, this is the point where I'd wrap up with a message about how much you can learn from someone you thought you were there to teach.  Or a message about how we all need to reexamine the belief that we are always right. 
But this is a blog of a true life story.  And in life, your problems aren't resolved at the end of a half-hour episode.  I'm going to be back in that class tomorrow, and they'll still want answers that are beyond my ability to give.  My role in classes now has been changed from an Educator in the conversation class to a test proctor in the grammar class.  This was the moment I first realized I'm not here because of a special skillset that put me ahead of the competition-- I'm here because I'm marketable as an American, and I'm willing to do the job for the price they offered. 

Capitalism rules the world, folks.  And whether you and I like it or not is irrelevant.  My time here is not about making a difference, it's about a contract.  I want to offer this bit of wisdom to anyone looking at teaching abroad: On the job, when it comes down to how you feel you should act vs how you're paid to act...

You've got a job to do
'Til next time,
Jeff-Teacher

A Tale of Two Doboks

Ahhh, can you see that?  It's the bright sunshine of the beginning of spring in Korea!  The birds will be singing, children will play soccer in the park, and girls will start looking like they actually knew what season it was when they put on their clothes ...
So as the weather changes, in this land that time can't change, spring is putting a lot of changes on my plate.
The first change is the closing of CNN's kindergarten program.  I know, I know, how will I live without having glops of I-don't-wanna-know-what sneezed onto me?  To be perfectly honest, though, (which I always am anyway) I will miss some of these children.  I'll miss dropping the lesson plan to play a game when their attention spans are gone.  I'll miss the seeing the six-year-olds develop adorable kindergarten crushes (We've all been there. That girl you told your friends you hated, but secretly made a construction paper valentine for and delivered it to her doorstep in april with your hair combed for the first time since...ever, only to have her return it at school the next day in front of everyone with the picture of a flower crossed out and replaced with a picture of her pushing you off a cliff.  It's happened to everyone.)
With the removal of my morning (Classes pushed back from 12:30 to 2:00!....What? 12:30 counts as morning.  Period.) commitments from my schedule, I'm free to slack off, stay out late, and sleep in!
But wait.
Life can never be that generous.
My classes now end at ten p.m.  And as my more serious fans out there can tell you, that means my classes end when my Tae Kwon Do class used to end.  No more Jeff-Ninja.
But wait.
Life never stays that greedy.
My supervisor helped me find a new class nearby that ran late at night.  Unfortunately, it wasn't Tae Kwon Do.  Fortunately it was Tukkong Musul.
Pause.
If you're like me (and really, like most non-koreans) at this point, you have no idea what Tukkong Musul means.  Allow me to explain.
Tukkong Musul means Special Combat Martial Art.  This is the fighting style developed for the special forces of the Korean military to combat unconventional attacks in urban warfare settings.  It's developed to fight terrorism and anything-North-Korea-can-come-up-with.  It's stylistically similar to Krav Maga, the art used by Matt Damon in the Bourne Identity movies.  Students greet each other with the martial artist's hand-into-fist salute, and an exhortation of "to combat!".  The art combines punches, kicks, grapples, joint locks, and "kill shots" from a veritable buffet of martial arts from western boxing to judo.
Unpause.
I accepted with surprisingly little hesitation.  After viewing a demonstration at the studio, I was sold.
Unfortunately, this would mean I still had to break the bad news to my Tae Kwon Do teacher.  And it would mean I wouldn't get to really make black belt.  Regretfully, I asked my supervisor to write my breakup letter to Inha Elite Tae Kwon Do.
But wait. 
Life's never that greedy.  For me at least.
Upon reading the letter, my Tae Kwon Do teacher told me he didn't want to lose my progress.  In fact, he planned to accelerate it.  If I'd meet him in the mornings every day and train one-on-one, he would have me ready to perform and fight in the Kukkiwon for my tests in two months time.  I needed to think about it.
...
So now I train twice a day, Tae kwon Do in the mornings, Tukkong at night.
My first milestone story in Tukkong happened last friday, when I fought my first ever grappling match.
After an interesting lesson in which I learned one takedown, one arm-lock, and one choke, I was treated to a series of grappling matches.
A grappling match is fought where two fighters begin standing, then fight without punches or kicks until one gives up.  It's much like wrestling, but there are no points for pinning someone.  You win if your opponent taps out or passes out.
"Je-Pu!" My korean name.  I looked around in surprise.  Had the instructor really called me in to fight a match?  Yes, no doubt about it.  I walked to the center and bowed. 
Who was I fighting?  I'd been matched up with a yellow belt most days, and while he was more experienced, he was about my size.
Oh wait, him?  The top student?  The black belt I'm not even allowed to warm up next to because he outranks me by so much?  You're joking.  He even gets a sweet red and black uniform- what am I supposed to do about that.  Oh you're not joking.  I've actually never heard you joke.  The last guy who tried to joke with you can't walk now?  Ah, I should've known.
"Shi-Jahk!"  Ok we're fighting now.  Do I make fists when I'm not allowed to punch?  He grabbed my sleeve, can I do that to him too?  I don't know if--
Oh that's the ground.  Hi, ground.  Didn't see you there.  I guess trying out that takedown I know is out of the question.  Well now that he's got me pinned to the ground, I could try that arm lock thing.
Nope, he saw that coming a mile away and blocked.  I do only know three moves, after all.
What about that choke?  Maybe if I--
Nope.

...And then something in my brain clicked on.  A dim, dusty bulb WAY back in the caverns.  Wait a minute, it said (do bulbs 'say'? who cares.  I'm fighting).  You know a much more difficult choke from a certain Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu-trained blackbelt at Ripon College.  If you can maybe get a LEG around this guys neck...
And somehow, through a combination of the element of surprise, an underestimating opponent, and the sheer audacity of choking the person who has you pinned by using only your legs, I choked him.  He had my arm locked as well, but when the instructor called us to return, I saw genuine surprise on the spectators' faces.
That choke would never work again, but from that point on, I knew they were going to challenge me and not consider me a hopeless foreigner.

Black is the Tukkong uniform.  White is the Tae Kwon Do.

So there you have it.  Tae Kwon Do for traditional, beaufiul moves and a black belt.  Tukkong Musul for the ability to break the windpipe of someone who tackles me in the street.  I went from Jeff-Ninja to Just Jeff-Teacher, then to Jeff-DOUBLEninja in the span of one week.
It's been a whirlwind, and the training's just getting started.

To Combat!

Jeff-Teacher


*This week's episode brought to you by a brilliant contribution by Andrew, the source of my Jiu-Jitusu knowlege.  I owe you one.