July 20, 2005
Visas, Lonely People & T-Shirts
Here I am, back in Kyoto! Why, I hear you ask? Sit down while I tell you a tale.
I am in Japan again because my Korean tourist visa ran out, and I didn't have a work visa yet because they required my actual, real diploma, which of course I didn't get until the day before I left Chicago. And on top of that the office manager guy is quitting, which is something I should've taken into account when he said, "Sure, I'll have those forms to you by this [now last] Friday." Of course I still don't have the forms, despite having confirmed with him three times that they would be ready before I left.
As it turns out, my visa application (through the company, to the government) was rejected because the gov't wondered--you're gonna love this--why the JoongAng Ilbo is hiring so many foreigners. Never mind that it's a western-style English-language newspaper. So long story short, they had to resubmit the forms with assurances that I'm not a refugee sitting in a corner sewing shoes together, and I'm stuck here until the gov't sends the JoongAng the forms, and they FedEx them to me.
Which is great, because this is probably the longest vacation I'm going to get, and I love spending time with my host family. And it's only when I woke up in this wonderful quiet suburban Uji neighborhood once again that I realized how much the aggressive urbanness of Seoul was starting to grate on me. It's like a load is off my shoulders, just because I can see a few trees here and there. It really makes a difference.
Of course it also means a) no kim chee b) warm showers c) an actual bed to sleep in instead of three blankets on the floor (I brought an empty suitcase so I can buy a futon while I'm here). And trips to Kyoto again! I'm probably going to steer toward Arashiyama, where I didn't spend nearly enough time two years ago.
Two nights ago a gay Korean guy tried to pick me up. He walked up when I was walking the two blocks home, we did that language-negotiation dance and realized we both spoke Japanese. Then he said I had a cute face, and asked if I realized that it's possible for men to have sex with each other. I was just kind of dumbfounded, so thinking I didn't understand he went into a more detailed explanation. He said, "Do you hate men?" I told him that wasn't it, I just wasn't interested, and he left me alone. I took a roundabout route home and glanced behind myself a few times anyway. Surprisingly it didn't really freak me out all that much, though. Maybe it was because he was just so matter-of-fact about it. Or maybe it's because it's not the first time gay men have tried to pick me up.
I saw someone in Seoul the other day (a Korean) with a shirt that read, "These words are faded to make it look like I've worn this shirt a lot." Great stuff.
Korean language progress: I now know how to ask for three bananas and tell people my birthday. By the time I leave I figure I should be able to advance to, "Sorry, I'm not gay."
Posted by b-applegate at 10:12 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
July 15, 2005
Knowing my stupidity
I was shoved into writing this because the person who was going to do it flaked at the last minute. It's supposed to be a guest column about Korean culture. Of course, I have about as much experience in Korean culture "as a tea leaf knows the history of the East India Company," as Douglas Adams might say, so I wrote about what I don't know. I just hope someone finds it entertaining.
Another highlight of the day's paper is this column, a very moving piece about the reporter's estranged relationship with her father.
Posted by b-applegate at 6:11 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
My first bomb drill
Well, apparantly on the fifteenth of every three months (or "something like that" according to my officemates) there's supposed to be a drill for air raids/terrorist bombings/various and sundry calamities, and I am experiencing my first one as we speak. The building's speaker system sent out the crazy siren noise, but I had headphones on and didn't hear it and since nobody even batted an eye I didn't even realize it was going off under I pulled off my headphones. Now we're listening to what I'm told is a radio panel-style conversation between a host and experts on terrorism. People are supposed to stop their cars immediately and stay in them for fifteen minutes after the alarm, but looking out the window it seems people just keep driving until they hit a traffic light (all of them are red). I'm also technically supposed to be crouched under my desk right now, but no one does that either. I take comfort in the fact that if the building were actually hit by a shell, I would be incinerated instantly since I'm right next to the window.
Posted by b-applegate at 1:09 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
July 11, 2005
Pictures Batch 1
The hasook (boarding house) I'm living in, seen from below. It's the brick building rising up in the middle.
First Korean Gundam sighting! In Yongsan, the crazy awesome computer market place, where I went for a transformer. If I had room for all the stuff they have there, I would buy said stuff.
The statue outside my Outpost of Corporate Korea, which I have dubbed "Triumph of the Paper Flingers." Or "Martyrdom of the Paper Flingers," I can't decide which I like more.
Myeongdong Cathedral, on a terrible day for picture-taking:
And let me just leave you with something from my neighborhood:
Self-explanatory.
Posted by b-applegate at 8:32 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
The America Complex
Yikes. I knew that I'd be living in one of the richest PiA countries, but I wasn't really prepared. The contrast here in Seoul would be nothing compared to what Sally is seeing. Getting a post in the richest city in an almost-developed country makes me feel pretty damn guilty compared to her, actually.
To carry that further, I am acutely aware that, even though I'm making less than what I could make even as an English teacher, I'm still making much more than the average GDP per capita of this country. And I'm what, 21 years old? That's ridiculous.
Which makes me realize something I've never wanted to admit: I am rich. I've always tried to deny it. My family background and national background (land of opportuniy, egalitarianism, etc) both encouraged me to think of whatever money I had as legitimately earned.
But here in Seoul a nagging feeling that I've had for years finally snaps into focus: I don't earn nearly all of what I make. At least half of it my background earns for me.
This is one of those things that are patently obvious to everyone else and worthy of the exclamation "Duh." But, I don't really know what to make of this dilemma yet (a euphemistic way of saying that I'm not ready to give up my cushy lifestyle yet). Perhaps watching other Princton-in-Asia fellows deal with it in a much more visceral way than I will may help.
Posted by b-applegate at 11:20 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Kisses 'n' kim chee
Hello! I am in Korea! Good for me, eh?
Hopefully after the untimely demise of my last blog due to my own technical stupidity (and an extremely unhelpful web host) this one will go a little better.
War of the Worlds is awesome and incredibly, incredibly scary. And not BOO! HA! MADE YOU JUMP! scary, which is what most horror movies are nowadays, no, you see it all coming and it still scares the shit out of you. Old school Spielberg. I'm living in a hasook (boarding house) literally right behind the Artreon Theater (a big, relatively well-known multistory theater complex), with at least three other theater multiplexes within less than a block, so I suspect I will be going to movies more often. Not that I'm complaining.
I now have two bylines in the paper! Two even! The first for a Sin City review (blegh) and the second for the first installment of the "break in the intern" column entitled View from the Pew.
Of course I did it on the local Catholic cathedral because, well, write what you know, right? It was actually pretty nostalgic to go to Coffee Bean and talk to the super-super-solemn Korean convert. Reminded me of growing up and meeting the Korean kids at my parish. That's the thing about young Korean Christians-- they're not all conservative, but they are all incredibly serious. Mass is at 9, so hopefully I'll be able to go there and then hit the various Worships of the Heretic Hordes-- I mean Protestant -- churches I'll need to go to for this column. I'm looking forward to it.
Korea is obsessed with this thing called "well-being." As near as I can tell it means, "Pretend whatever you're eating is healthy to make yourself feel better about eating it." Which isn't such a bad idea. When the Catholic dudes were talking to me about the "health and wealth" gospel that Cho Yong-gi preaches at the Yeouido Full Gosepel megachurch here in Seoul (it's one of those be good and God will give you money and good health things), I replied, "What, is that like wellbeing for religion?" That seemed to be very funny to them, though I was half-serious.
I started my Korean lessons this week at a hagwon across from the Anglican cathedral near Deoksugung. Now I have a small fraction of understanding of how difficult it is for the twenty-something Mexican guy in California who speaks no English to swallow his pride and try to learn. It made me feel truly stupid. Every mistake I made in reading was extremely embarrassing. It reminded me of doing multiplication flash cards with my dad in the dining room when I was a little kid. When I couldn't remember the answer and had to work it out I would try to make some superfluous comments and my dad would say, "You only talk when you don't know the answer." I half-expected those same words to come out of my Korean teacher's mouth, and I was fully prepared to cower at them like an eight year-old.
Since I can't communicate with anyone at the breakfast table yet I'm entertaining myself by trying to infer the relationships between the various other tenants in my hasook. The cast: Landlady, landlady's husband and youngest daughter, Chinese woman who lives and works there (but speaks fluent Korean), two other women and one man on my floor and foreign English teachers, one Canadian, one American, who I hardly ever see.
I suspect Man Who Lives On My Floor is the boyfriend of Daughter. Which would be a pretty sweet deal for both of them. The other day people who I'm pretty sure are the older daughter of my landlady, along with her husband and their ADORABLE little boy (looked about 3), came to visit while I was sitting in the common area reading. The kid peered around the piano at me and, silently, we made it into a game. Then he decided running up and looking at me through the bars on the chair and running away again was great fun. I love little kids. They can get away with having fun all the time. And on the way out, in response to his parents' urging, he bowed almost ninety degrees to grandma. This is one of those things I've only ever seen on commercials, because my host family in Japan is weirdly egalitarian (mostly because of Harumi-- the grandma's-- influence, I suspect).
Things I'm getting used to:
Cold showers (the hot water is never on and when it is there's only enough for a tantalizing taste of warmth before it cuts out leaving you feeling even colder, so what's the point)
Next-to-nothing rent (woohoo)
Less privacy (my landlady has at various times busted into my room with mosquito repellant or to close the window or to bring me a fan-- all incredibly nice things that I was happy for, but her being in my room induced this panicky feeling that I'm aware is cultural-- I just felt I had no way to respond because what she had done was just... not done! Oh, and she knocked on the door to the bathroom while I was taking a shower and kept knocking until I put a towel on and opened it-- I think she thought it was a family member in there)
Things I will get used to in a few months:
Kim chee, incredibly spicy food (I am the cliche foreigner in this department, I admit it, but I was pampered by Japanese food for a year, so there it is)
Several other things whose significance I'm sure hasn't hit me yet.
I fly to Osaka next Wednesday night for my visa and stay til Sunday in Kyoto with the host family. Anyone who's there, give me a holler and we'll go karaoke!
Now I must go or miss the train. Which is 800 won (roughly 80 cents). After a 510 yen commute for a year, that makes me very happy.
Posted by b-applegate at 10:15 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack