The Dregs of Wonder (#2)

The Dregs of Wonder (#2)

It is two weeks in and I am in the dregs of wonder.  

I have officially transformed myself into the most deadpan, earnest kindergarten teacher you can imagine.  I am in love with the children.  And I have bite.  I place a tiara on my head to convince the children that I am Friendly Dog.  

 At my German kindergarten, we play with blocks, and I stand amazed at the outcome.  The prompt here was very clearly "Build a snail."  What resulted left me astounded, but also wishing I knew how to build complicated artillery out of plastic, colored, stackable cubes.  If I built a snail, it would come without its shell, because I am not yet in the practice of being able to build vertically.  This was a different kind of "shell" they were building.  Pun absolutely intended.

At my hagwon, the kids celebrate their birthdays like kings and queens.  The other children are required to all bring gifts for the lucky guy/gal, and if they don't, the teachers leave school to purchase extra gifts.  Apples, bananas, and other fruits are placed before the king, never to be eaten but only displayed and marvelled at.  The fruit is treated so delicately that I thought it was fake until I decided to eat it in a moment of impulsive hunger.

This evening, I ate the best meal of my entire life.  I have waited my entire life to say this, and now I truly mean it.  You can see a snippet of the "freshness" of the experience below.  The restaurant is like a castle surrounded by a moat of aquariums, out of which the cooks pull the fish and sea life.  The Korean teachers kept on repeating "Koreans eat everything, get used to it."  Of tonight's variety was abalone, sea urchin, and sea cucumber (the latter which required 15 minutes of chewing before swallowing).  Thus, Korean meals are often very peppered by very long silences, during which dinner guests slurp, swallow, cough, choke, and spit out their food.  Sometimes there are long trips to the bathroom.  You wonder whether they will make a return.

Apart from the quantity of my work, I have been climbing Mount Suri, located 5 minutes from my apartment.  The breaths of fresh air in the frigidness draw a parallel between Poland and South Korea for me.  In many ways, the cultures are very similar, both places recovering from the presence of oppressive Communist rule.  Poland's is more direct, so the country is under greater transition.  Korea's is more diluted, so they are lucky enough to live in a unanimous sort of prosperity.  Both places peppered by apartment blocks and woods and cold.

I am reminded that in these cultures, people relate like kin.

And it is this way of relating that I adhere to the most.

The kind that is made in both the figurative as well as literal cold.

The way that I perceive Korea is changing, but mostly because so is the view that I have of myself.

So far, I have realized that I am not as laid back as I might have thought.  Experiencing a new way of living after having turned 30 is a hurdle and also eye-opening.  

There are moment of coolness and sunglasses and smiles.

And there are moments of being a hardcore atheist, looking out of your apartment window and seeing an orange sun while listening to Sam Cooke's gospel album, and wondering "Is there anything else out there?"

Those are the moments that scare me the most and those are the moments I stand on the edge of.

Lesson of the Week: Stand closer to the edge because when you're not looking down, you've got a great view.

Signing off to all those I love,

Squid 

I Have Arrived to a Happy Apocalypse

Dearest Friends-

Welcome to a record of my thoughts during this experience.  I want to share what it is like to be me here, so this is all uncensored.  This is my experience on the real, with all the good and all the bad.  I hope that you can feel like you are actually there with me, instead of feeling like you are just watching a record of glamorized memories.

Day One Has Happened and It Was A Happy Apocalypse.

I feel overwhelmed, joyous, and truly alive.  I have aged like a good Manchengo in one week.

My nickname is Squid because one the first day of class I walked in munching on a bag of dried squid.  Not the plastic bag, but the squid inside it.  Apparently, Koreans don't even like doing that, but I do.  And so I'm Squid.  Yo, what's up?

Here I am, in South Korea.  I have arrived into a blissful Apocalypse of sorts.  This means that the day that I flew in, the air pollution in my 'hood Dang dong went from 100 to 900 milligrams of dust particles in the air ala Yellow Dust from China.  For those of you who are not privy to the ailments of other countries, this means that sand blows in from China to South Korea and makes the air unbreathable.  So my first experience in this country was one of wearing a mask with a former teacher, Stephanie.  For those who know me, know that I enjoyed this kind of authenticity. 

Despite these shenangigans, I was able to retain a modocrum of positivity.  My apartment was adorably decorated in pink when I arrived- the lighting is fluorescent, as in all of Korea, so I am in the process of find a lamp that will make it cozy.  The goal is to find a lamp that has warm lighting that points down and radiates the coziness of hugs.

Squid was nervous and exhausted and exhilarated her first day of school.  Below is how I was feeling- I am a bit of teddy bear, coming apart at the seams.  The stuffing is pouring out but the bear is still squeezable, I hope. 

 My private school is amazingly warm in spirit and I have been given the gift of designing my own lesson plans.  In addition, I am the new drama teacher, and I am dying to see how I can communicate without the comfort of words.  Below is a video of the wonderful Suzy directing a musical performance to precede THE JUNGLE BOOK. I get joy out of watching her quirky intensity and the devotion of the kids.

 The first day of my arrival, I was given wash cloths for my apartment, Italian Panettone bread, and a peace sign with Military Soup from the adorable Vicky.  Military Soup is SPAM and vegetables in a mystery spicy broth.  The Koreans eat together in a way that is different from ours.  They seem to really share the food, slurping and enjoying as they pass 20 plates around the table.  Our eating is like Show-'n-Tell.  Their eating is a performance.

 I sign off with these little memories and a great deal of warmth to all those I miss.

Here is what Korea looked like from the plane in first view.  Asiana Air provided us with 3 meals, a soft blanket, soft slippers, a soft pillow, and unlimited alcohol.  So I greeted this view in what one may call "a happy stupor."

Lesson of the Week:  Always remember what first love is like.

In nostalgic exhaustion,
Squid