From Saipan now, not Korea

Since I last wrote, I've left Korea, had some good last times with my friends there, had some minor panic attacks on the plane home, spent a good 3 weeks at home in Phoenix with my friends and family, felt pangs of envy at what I've been missing as I walked down the aisles of Sam's Club and BevMo, and then got back on the plane for a long series of flights to Saipan, where I'm teaching middle school kids about the finer points of our language.

So far, what stands out most in my mind about Saipan is how often in the short 5 or 6 weeks that I've been here how many perfect days and moments there have been. One of the first was when my friend Nate and I had gone spearfishing late on a Sunday afternoon. It had been rainy all day, but by the time we got in the water the sun was shining through the clouds. We swam out past the reef and not too long after we got to where we would be fishing, Nate called me over and pointed out a sea turtle cruising through the water right below us. I dove down to try to get close, but it was gone as fast as it came. We kept fishing, diving down and waiting on the bottom for the fish to get close enough to spear, which is good fun! But since coming here, I've learned that I get pretty sea sick, even in fairly calm waters. On these fishing outings, I'll spend an honest 45 minutes fishing, and then the rest of the trip alternating between diving and yakking on the surface. On one such 'break,' I had taken my mask and snorkel off, treading water at the surface when I looked at the scene around me. Very few times in my life have I seen something as beautiful. I was floating alone on the surface in a bay of perfect blue water, white sand beaches and the jungle rising up behind it on my right, open ocean at my left, watching the sun go down at the far end of the beach surrounded by towering thunderheads painted yellow and orange. That, my friends, is a sight to behold.

Another one of these perfect days, and a more recent experience, was yesterday. Will and Rachel, other teachers on the island, and I went out in Will's boat to Tinian, another island just a few miles away from Saipan. It was a perfect day for it, just a few clouds in the sky, and calm seas. Tinian is about what you'd expect from a tropical island, except most of the island is surrounded by 10 ft cliffs. The water though, bluer than you could imagine in the deep parts, and as it starts to get shallower towards the beaches on the south side, the deep azure turns into turquoise; just fantastic. The kind of sight that makes you happy to be alive when you see it. All morning we trolled through such waters for Wahoo while we sailed around the island, following pods of dolphins, stopping around lunch to scuba dive (they dived, I took a swim and then napped on the boat) and swam ashore to sit on the sandy beaches on the south side of the island. After lunch we swam back to the boat and cruised to the very southern tip of Tinian where the dolphins were jumping in and out of the six-foot waves. It took us the rest of the day to sail back to Saipan, trolling most of the way, stopping to fish for Tuna, and getting drenched in a quick rainstorm, but by the time we got back to shore and cleaned the boat up, there was a perfect sunset to watch while we ate on the beach. I was so tired after all that I was asleep by 8:30.

I don't write to brag, only to tell you that I am blessed to be able to have seen such things.

What Was It Like Over There?

"What has been the most fulfilling or positive part of living and/or teaching in Korea? The most challenging?"


I've had a lot of positive experiences living in Korea, I don't think I could choose just one. I've made a lot of friends here, both Korean and with other English teachers. I've come to love Korean food, although not everyone who comes to Korea feels the same way. On a day-to-day basis, that might be my favorite thing about living here. I'm certain I'll keep eating Kimchi for the rest of my life. I've appreciated getting to experience another culture first hand. It's a weird feeling to actually be immersed in another culture, not just reading or hearing about it; to know that you're acting and seeing the world according to a different set of social rules and structures than the rest of the people around you. It also gives you a new appreciation for American life, and I don't mean that in the stereo-typical "I'm proud to be an American" way that we talk about on the Fourth of July. I think you have to get some distance from our culture to see what's really unique and special about it; to see that many things we (or I at least) took for granted, or as universal, are really culturally unique to us. And at the same time, maybe some things you thought were good about America, you realize we could do much better, and some things you thought you hated about America aren't really so bad after all, for one reason or another. You also really come to appreciate the English language; how complicated it is, the variety and versatility of the words.

For me, the most challenging parts of living here in Korea stem from being a non-Korean in a relatively ethnically homogenous society. I don't speak the language well, I'm white, and I'm about a head taller than everyone around me. It's impossible to blend in; the best you can hope for is to stick out less. If you're not prepared to be stared at everywhere you go, everyday, then Korea may not be the place for you. I am always a foreigner here, and for better or worse that usually seems to be a part of how people treat you. Sometimes that means you get better treatment because someone is interested in Americans and wants to show you a good experience in Korea. Other times that means your girlfriends dad doesn't want you to date his daughter because you're a foreigner, and he's heard all the stories about 'your kind.' Sometimes you just want to blend in. But maybe that's painting a darker picture of the situation than it actually is.

My Days Here Are Numbered

My coffee is a little more bitter than usual this morning.

This is going to be my last semester in Korea, for the foreseeable future at least. I signed a contract to teach English (not the ESL kind) in Saipan next year. "Where is that?" you may be asking. Well, you're already on the internet, so you can Google it and get a better description than I can give you. The point is, I'm moving on in a few months. It's not that I don't like it here, quite the opposite, but...deep down I know it's time to move on. I could go into more detail about the reasons, but that's a lot more writing than I care to do at the moment.

Saipan though! I love the heat, I love the beach, and I love the ocean; it looks like all three will be in good supply, and I am excited. Also a bit nervous. When I think back to how I felt the summer before I came to Korea, I was worrying about basically the same things I am now. Will I like it there? Am I going to take to the new job well? I'm not going in with a wing man this time either; how am I going to fit in? Everything panned out well enough the first time around though, and that is comforting. I'm looking forward to getting out of this cold, to having a change of scenery, and for the challenge of a new job.

So now I've got five months left in the Land of the Morning Calm. That's a sad thought. Sooner or later someone is going to ask me what I want to do before I leave. Right now it's a long list of food I want to eat and who I want to eat it with.That might be what I love most about living here. I should probably eat some more Gamjatang (spicy pork and potato stew). I want to finally eat the live Octopus tentacles I said I was going to have since before I came here. I want to go to the Jimjilbang (a Korean spa) a few more times. And I'd be remiss if I didn't hit the town at least once more with the fellas. When I do all those things, and a few more, I think I can make my peace with leaving.

Last night I had a dream that I went to a fair, a small one, like the festival my grade school would put on every year. My favorite, or one of my favorite bands, The Gaslight Anthem was playing on the grassy field in the afternoon, next to some tea-cup-esque ride. There weren't a lot of people there, it wasn't really their scene. They got tired of only playing for 6 people, so after a while they took a break and just sat down on the edge of the stage. I went and sat down next to Brian Fallon, the lead singer, and we started talking. I knew I sounded like a fan boy, but eventually we started talking about his neck tattoo. I think I might have asked him what people thought about it, and he said people were too afraid to say anything about it so they pretended not to notice, or something along those lines. By the end of the conversation, we were friends. It was a happy dream.

That's enough rambling for today.

Now Listening To:
"She Is Beautiful"
Andrew W.K.

Recent Events, Pt. 1

"...as he raised his hand to wave back at his parents, Mitchell felt ten years old again, tearing up, choked with feeling for these two human beings who, like figures from myth, had possessed the ability throughout his life to blend into the background, to turn to stone or wood, only to come alive again, at key moments like this, to witness his hero's journey." (The Marriage Plot, Eugenides)

My parents came out to visit last week, first visiting me here in Korea, and then being kind enough to bring me along on their pilgrimage to Japan. There were ups and downs, the latter being mostly due to oversight in planning, but as a whole, the good far outweighed the very little bad. I am glad they came, and I like to think that they are too, even if my mom didn't appreciate the abundance octopus in her diet.

More on Japan later.

Now Listening To:
"Wasting Time"
Djali Zwan

Alright For Now

How do you know when it's time to jump ship on a good situation? The time is fast approaching when I will have to choose whether or not to sign a contract to teach here in Korea for another year. Before I came here, I had a goal of staying two years,and unless I did something stupid to get myself fired, I would also have the choice to stay longer. I more or less assumed that that would be an easy decision to make when the time came - either I would enjoy my time here and sign on, or I wouldn't and then I would go home. Unfortunately, I don't think the decision will actually be that easy when the time comes. Things are still pretty good here, but I know that teaching English in Korea isn't something I want to do for the rest of my life. Frankly, I'd be ashamed if that's as far as my aspirations in life took me. I also don't want to stay around until I have to say to myself "Okay, the party's over, I'm tired, this isn't fun anymore. It's time to go home." The day is coming when I have to call it quits here, and it might as well be on a high note, right? There are two problems with this though. First, is this the right time to bail on a sure job? In this economy, who knows how long it would take me to find something legitimate. The other, and much larger problem is I have no idea what I want to be doing.

A long time ago in college I was faced with a similar problem when I was choosing a major. One of my friends was a design major and his classes seemed fun, and I had always been interested in art, so I decided that I would study design to someday become a graphic designer. Looking back, this seems like a strange and probably poor way to choose a career. But choose it I did; I enjoyed it, and still do.The problem is I never really had a passion for it. I was always told to choose a career doing something I enjoyed, but the older I get the more I realize there is a difference between enjoying and being passionate about something, between happiness and satisfaction. So potentially, Yes, I could go back home and try to get a job in my trained field. But aside from all the work needed to put together a better portfolio and brush up my web-design skills, I don't know if I would really enjoy it. After the better part of two years away from the subject, I don't really see myself as a 'designer' anymore.

So I've got to find something else. Maybe I could go back to school and go into counseling. Maybe I could get my SEC license and work for my mom as a financial adviser. Maybe I could start a business - a coffee shop by day, craft brewery by night, with a sidewalk patio and a huge record collection. Maybe I could put my two years' teaching experience to good use and go teach in another country. Who the hell knows.


Now Listening To:
"Three Coins In A Fountain"
Frank Sinatra

Rose Garden

It's an exceptionally crisp and rainy fall day today. In the fading daylight, already dimmed by overcast skies, I can smell leaves burning from people's garden's down the street. Days like this remind me of living in Iowa during late Autumn. Walking back from class, the wind blowing, wishing you had brought a warmer coat that day, it's almost dark and there isn't a living leaf on any tree, but once you got home, that would all go away. You'd come in the door, Travis would be in the kitchen making spaghetti, or chili, Paul and Henk are on the couch watching Jeopardy....those were some happy times.

Since we're walking down memory lane, let me tell you about a time I really miss, the Spring of '09. Obviously there was more to it than this, but what I remember about that time most, at least on the surface, are memories of warm, sunny afternoons moving into cool Spring evenings. They had that certain feel like five or six in the evening during the Summer, when the Sun is just starting to go down but the light hasn't yet begun to fade. Alvin was living in a different apartment then, so every now and again Paul, Christina, and I would go over there to cook and what-not. Usually it was some sort of pesto, stuffed mushrooms, and cheap wine. The lighting would be low and warm, the smell of garlic and onions sauteing in butter heavy in the air, Alvin would be working away in the kitchen with his apron on, and there was always some Feist, Elliott Smith, or Iron and Wine playing. Like I said, I'm pretty sure this exact scenario only happened once or twice, but it's the impression that's important here.

But I digress.

In one of my general English classes, there is a kid who has some sort of learning disability. I've made the mistake of confusing bad English skills with a mental disability before, but this is not one of those times (I'm 90% sure, but I've only got a minor in Psychology, cut me some slack. What do you want me to do, walk up and ask him?). Anyways, this kid's English skills are borderline non-existent; he turns in blank quizzes, I've never got homework back from him, and class participation is out of the question. Ordinarily, I wouldn't think too much about it, if he can't do the homework and pass the tests, he can't pass the class. But this is different. I went and talked to the Man a while back to ask him what I should do, and why he isn't in special classes, and basically the answer I got was "just pass him." Now that's a bag of issues in and of itself, but let's not get too far away from the main point of this - what am I supposed to do in the here and now to pass this kid? How can I, in good conscience, give an "A" to a kid who clearly hasn't done any of the work and has, almost certainly, learned nothing? And another thing. If the school is just going to pass him anyway, why not waive the requirement altogether? It's just a general class, why waste my time, and his? I was handing back said quizzes, but I still hadn't, and haven't, decided what to do with his, so when he asked me why everyone else got theirs back, all I could say was "Uh...yeah, I uh....left it on my desk in my...office....yeah...."

Now Listening To:
"Cherry Blossoms"
The Horrible Crowes

I Bet You Thought I Stopped Writing, Didn't You?

Kosin's campus can be a downright terrifying place at night. It's poorly lit, slightly rundown, there's usually someone knocking around in it, and almost every door creaks loud enough to wake the dead. We often joke that our building is haunted, and it's not that difficult to see why. Imagine, if you will, that it's the middle of a dark and moonless night, and you've just finished up a long night of grading. While it may be warm and bright in your third floor office, the rest of the building is a different story, with the night watchman having long ago turned out the lights. You turn your office lights off and step out into the dark stillness of the hallway; you look to your left and see only a closed door, but to the right the hallway stretches on, the neon green glow of the exit sign goes only so far, the only sign of its end is a handful of tiny green lights on the water cooler. You pray that you don't hear footsteps in the darkness or see those tiny lights blocked out by a slow moving silhouette as you fumble with your keys in a hurried attempt to lock your door. But it doesn't end there.

You step out into the stairwell, the massive steel doors creaking behind you, and start to make your way down the stairs in not quite pitch darkness. Now not only do you have to worry about ghosts, murderers, centipedes, what have you, waiting for you in the corners of the landing, you also have to worry about missing a step on the way down and twisting your ankle, or worse. These stairs have an odd shape to them, and you can't really see where you're going, and there's not a whole lot of light to guide you. Dangerous stuff, friends. Now you're almost home free and out of the building, except for looking down the long black halls as you pass them, the silence broken only by errant creakings and cries from people doing who knows what after hours in the empty classrooms. At that point, it's just a short walk across the lobby and out into the (usually) foggy night for a short walk down the hill to your apartment.

Okay, so maybe it's not like walking through a haunted house every night on your way home, but still, it's creepy as hell and that's not even taking a proper walk through the building, that's just sticking to the stairways. I'm not too proud to admit that I would probably be a little afraid to play hide-and-go-seek in here, but that's at least half due to centipedes. And that doesn't include the half-dozen other times where I've seen something dark in the hallway out of the corner of my eye and sieze up in a brief moment of terror before I realize its nothing.

Now Listening To:
"She Bangs The Drums"
Stone Roses