dagNotes: on privilege and white power in Korea

[from my tumblr blog, posted earlier today]

In my last post, I talked about the problem with white people coming to Korea and suddenly becoming conscious of race. Except, they don’t see white power and privilege, which is everywhere on display. They see racist Koreans.

Then, I received an anonymous ask shouting at me for being white and calling out white supremacists and racism. An obvious troll, but one who provides me with an opportunity to discuss why white people experiencing racism like the young woman in the former post are so misinformed.

I’m white. I argue I have a responsibility to betray my inherited privilege and unearned ambition. And not for any reward either. Simply because I, like everyone else, have an ethical obligation to fight the white power structure that constructs individuals as white subjects. White people don’t exist. Whiteness is constructed and protected and inherited. I may be able to benefit most from this racist ideological apparatus that shapes capitalist society, but I should reject it. It’s a moral obligation, in my opinion.

And as some folks are claiming, I’m not doing this to point the finger at white privilege. I’m actually trying to examine how it works for myself and in my life, and I’m writing about it. DagSeoul isn’t a “white people are privileged” blog. So, please stop sending me stupid shit in my ask-box about that.

***

I don’t go around claiming I’ve experienced racism in the manner most white people do. Most talk about angry black people, hateful hispanics, crazy Koreans—jealous others whose envy for power causes them to hate their whiteness so much that they act in a racist manner. Of course, that’s utter nonsense. It’s bullshit. That’s not racism. Yelling at whiteness, hating whiteness, having a problem with white people isn’t always racist. It’s a sign of white power. It’s a response to white supremacy.

I play football almost every Saturday in Korea. I live in a Korean neighborhood, so all my teammates are Koreans. They’re all men. They’re almost all younger than me. I’m bigger than all of them. Stronger than many. I’m not the most skilled footballer, but I’ve played since 1978. I’ve got skill. I can score. I’m fast. I know and love the game. And, I can run all day. When a bald (I shave my head) and bearded white guy is booking down the field with the ball, it’s intimidating. A lot of Korean guys are super-fit and strong, but smaller than me. When I run into them at full speed, I feel it, but they really feel it. And I play a much more physical style of football than Koreans do. Fans of the game will understand this. Most guys love it when I show up with my Korean teammates to play. They talk to me on the field. It’s fun. But it’s not always fun.

When I first arrived, a colleague took me around to meet various clubs in the area. Word got around rather quickly that there was a foreigner who wanted to play and he was good. I got asked to play by my team. I was invited. I considered myself lucky. I really figured I’d have to find foreigners to play with, but I wanted so much to play with Koreans. It’s one of the reasons I was excited about coming here. Anyway, I felt accepted. In a few months, I had twenty-five younger brothers. It was a wonderful feeling.

One of the teams we regularly played often got very mad at my teammates that I was playing so well. It appeared that way to me. I didn’t get it. I’ve since learned that some Korean players think its unfair that they should have to play a foreigner. I’m big and strong and can hurt them. I don’t hurt them, but we’re talking intimidation here. I had so intimidated a couple of players that they couldn’t contain their frustrations any longer. After a day of playing together, they confronted me and my team. We almost had a brawl. My teammates were standing up for me. I was pulling guys away from one another. And one player on the other team yelled, “Yankee, Go home!” Some of us laughed. Some of my teammates wanted to fight. The oldest players stepped in and yelled at everyone. My wife had showed up to watch. She was very upset.

Simple story, right? I play. I play with Koreans. I play well. A little physical, but nothing dirty. I score goals. My team wins a lot. The frustrated players on the other team blame the foreigner for fucking up the peace. One guy says something insulting. Many white people would call it racist. Dude’s a hater. It’s not even racist.

Once, I parked my scooter in front of a cafe and the owner told me to move it somewhere else. She didn’t want it in front of her shop. I told her it was legal. She yelled at me for being a spoiled foreigner. Many white people would call it racist. But. It’s not even racist.

I’ve been involved in pushy moments in the crowded subway where I’ve been yelled at in Korean, called out as a rude foreigner. Many white people would call it racist. But. It’s not even racist.

Koreans who call me out for doing things Koreans often do and explicitly scolding me as a foreigner are often referred to by white people in Korea as racist Koreans. They’re not racists.

White people love to see racism against them. And why not. White power works that way. White people are raised to feel precious and deserving of good treatment. They deserve respect. Why would anybody pick on them because of who they are?

Fact is, there are haters in Korea. The longer I live here, on the other hand, the more I recognize my white privilege is in full effect here. And the rudeness with which I’m treated at times simply requires a little patience and understanding. This might sound patronizing, but it’s not. After all, I was brought here and treated well because of who I am, treated well in a manner that the majority of Koreans will never experience.

I’m often asked, Why would you come to Korea? Koreans talk about their country being no bigger than a booger (우리나라는 코딱지 만큼…)  or no bigger than a palm (우리나라는 손바닥 만큼…). Why would I come to a place most Koreans can’t leave? Well, the answer is because I’m privileged. That’s the answer. The humiliating aspect of that answer is its correlation: I can leave whenever I want to. In other words, I can go home. I have a place to go other than here. I can return. That’s what Koreans see me as sometimes, but especially when they’re annoyed at me. They are confronted with privilege. And they sometimes take it out on me. It’s not racism. Try telling that to many white people in Korea, though.

I’d have to be a real dick to deny this privilege. That guy yelling “Yankee, go home” at me is reaching for something to say at all in the face of my belligerent presence in his life. He was being a dick, but he can’t speak English and he yelled the one insult in English he knew might hurt my feelings. The power he feels that oppresses him in a daily manner is a problem with Korean culture, centuries of oppression. Shit I don’t get. But I’ve added another element. Now he has to play soccer, on his day off, with a white guy who reminds him of a specific and painful lack of privilege and I’m going to knock him down, too. I’d be a dick not to expect some sort of response.

Alien Registration Transformation & Changed My Address

Happily was E-2;
am now F-1.

It's good for two years and multi-entry.

Worth noting is that the old address system is not used by government offices any longer. Even though I gave the address I've used for three years, the one printed on the back of my ARC card corresponds to the new street name and building number. My villa number remains the same.

Last year Korea standardized addresses nationwide, affording each street a name. Before that, Koreans relied on building numbers assigned to places within neighborhoods, within districts, within cities to find people. It could be difficult. Blue street signs and blue building placards appeared almost overnight. It appears we can begin using them for official things like mail. Probably always could, but you never know.

So my address is now:

[Street Name]로26가길 70-0 B3호 (Street Name +Street# +Building# + Unit#)
관악구 (District)
서울특별시 (City)

It's simpler. I like it. Easy to find people anywhere in this maze of a city.

With an appointment and all the paperwork handy, the Visa process isn't too difficult here. I stress appointment. My replacement at my high school spent what sounds like a few hours at immigration without an appointment. And the school made him go the day all his fellow newbies to Korea were certain to show up with their new colleagues to wait. Bad idea.

Other great thing about this F-1. No testing. None.

Testing, Testing (Part Three)

(Edited 22.6.11: for grammos, typos; deleted two, pointless parenthetical statements; added content for clarity; updated related links.)

Related Reading:

• Testing, Testing (where I decided to organize my thoughts & recording my pedagogical principles)
• Testing, Testing (Part Two) (a good definition for teachering)
• Teaching & Teachering (fleshing out the difference)
• The Many Are One And Are Increased By That One (on the production of space in the classroom; teaching in media res; vertical v horizontal, or transversal)

My complaint: I’m a literature and theory guy. I focused on practical linguistics and ESL/EFL during my MA because I was teaching composition and rhetoric and working in two writing centers attended by many foreign students. I wanted to learn how to better address their needs. And I’m a nerd who likes thinking about language and thought. My practicum was a chance to study the science of language rather than the philosophy of language.

I’ve yet to see much practical linguistics put into practice in classrooms, in curriculum. In Korea, contemporary English education fails the majority of students. I know that students at my school could study a little harder, but when I look at them and my work, I have had to conclude that I have no support and they have little. It’s my opinion that because wealthy and privileged Korean elites continue to succeed in spite of the poor English education policies, the failure is ignored.

As we know, public education is criminally underfunded. The Seoul agency managing enough English teachers to populate a small town is operated by a small and overworked staff. What can they actually do but manage? Training is non-existent. Peer evaluation forbidden. Teacher development restricted to a chosen few. That there are thousands of teachers in Korea and no conferences, no retreats, is shameful and a sign that most of the teachers aren’t professionals, but travelers using Korea for one of two things: a break from life back home or to gain a year of experience before entering the job market back home.(I’m always willing to criticize lazy teachers, but it’s mostly the self-promoting idiots who so often pretend to represent teachers in Korea who I’m really pissed at—the scheming white capitalists. The link is only one example. A horrible writer with a horrible blog who often and naively writes horrible things about teaching and teachers.)

Many professional NSETs in Korea appear only too happy to aid the Korean government to further ghettoize english education in support of their careers, leaving Korean students of English in the lurch. When I call my peers unthinking, scheming capitalists, I’m being provocative. Many of my colleagues care, but we’re in the minority here. It’s the same everywhere: many teachers find it easier to be cronies for corruption in exchange for job security. No matter how awful the teaching conditions, the treatment of students, or how low the quality of education become, these folks will find a way to be satisfied to be working in the front of a classroom telling people how to think and what they should know. They aren’t teachers, they’re possessors of knowledge. They don’t teach, they teacher. It’s doing something without action. They’re not teaching, they’re teachering.

I should stay on focus: The successful students are privileged, the ones who have lived in English-speaking countries, or the ones who have a knack for language. The students who need the most help, the kids who struggle, are ignored. I suppose if we look at the problem from an economic perspective, Koreans can argue (President Obama and his administration do) that their education system is successful because the education business is booming, the standards appear high, the competition is tough, and consumers have many highly valued choices. None of that has anything to do with languages and learning, of course, but it’s nonetheless true. Objectively speaking, Korea’s rigorous public and private educational system should be a success.

Education, in Korea as in the USA, is more easily accessible for the most privileged students. Students at my school are poor and don’t get nice classrooms, nice labs, a well-maintained school, good food, access to the best hagwons—nor do they get to travel. English, for them, is something they learn about in Korean and it’s confined to Korean culture. As a result, English is a cultural mechanism that more or less oppresses each of them. This is in direct opposition to how English language is sold to the students: as a means of future liberation.

Koreans do not really understand English language culture and are consciously stubborn about learning how to incorporate that culture in its English classes and wider society. Or is it Korean culture? There is something called 한류 (hanryu) that illustrates how Koreans see the world via their own culture and its distribution and representation around the world, and it might serve us well to think about that when talking about complex cultural problems Koreans and their foreign colleagues confront. Anyway, the text books here are a joke. They are boring and meaningless and very poor approximations of white English-language culture. I’m not a prescriptivist, but no real attempt is made on a daily basis to properly implement English language, even in a Korean manner. The attempt is to use English in Korean—that’s very different.

In spite of these difficulties I think there must be something we can do as teachers to improve a bad situation. Moreover, it’s likely from the teachers and students where the most useful and meaningful innovation in classrooms and curricula will erupt into the wider discourse. The governments and industry professionals are nothing more than market forces. Administrators are aspiring capitalists. They aren’t teachers.

I was thinking about all this while testing my students for the second time this year.

What the students do know about English: In three years, I’ve learned that students know how to take cues form their Korean teachers about English, know how to speak about English in Korean using English vocabulary pronounced in Korean, know how to read English texts and answer multiple choice questions about what they’ve read, know how to listen to English and guess correctly what’s spoken and what it means. That’s what they learn in their regular classes. In other words, that’s what they learn without my presence in the classroom. The students know what it means to have English explained to them and this helps them recognize patterns they’ve studied when they take standardized tests, more often than not, yet be unable to hold a regular conversation. It’s a common complaint among English teachers: Why can they perform well on tests yet are unable to participate in simple conversations?

Students learn to successfully take English exams; they do not learn everyday English. If you go to YouTube, you can see that what many teachers think is useful everyday English education is teaching idioms in an entertaining manner. This would be useful education if the average student understood the basics of English syntax and usage, but the average student does not. Even the most advanced Korean students often lack an ability to use simple transitional elements in their speech and writing. Why? Because students learn English through repetition and memorization. It’s all very thoughtless. They memorize lists of words and patterns for phrases by repeating lists and patterns over and over. I do believe the idea is to get English to as many people at once in as short a time as possible. The result is a country using English in Korean. The result is awful English, awkward English, too-complicated English.

I try to teach my most advanced students to study English differently and to learn to use it by owning it. I developed my method as a writing teacher, but found that when tutoring Korean and Japanese students, it worked for addressing their speech as well as their writing. “Owning it” is rather vague, I know, but this is a blog after all. Allow me the space to flesh it out. My students are not only uncomfortable with English because it’s difficult and oppressive and tied to their futures like an anchor. English is difficult because they use it as a foreign instrument. They are taught that This does not belong to me.

I’ll put it into a Korean classroom context. They way we teach English promotes difference and denies that English and Hangukmal do the same thing, are used for the same purposes. The way we teach English promotes information over meaning, based on a standard of correctness. Nothing in English, in Korean classrooms, is in context with everyday life. That's a problem. We know we’re not doing right by our students because we know understanding how to present ideas in English means understanding that English speakers and Hangukmal speakers differently represent similar ideas with language. It’s not a simple matter of translation. The arrangement of the languages is different. To speak English well is to understand the languages and their different arrangements as much as it about knowing vocabulary and the parts of speech.

It’s more complicated when we consider how teachers talk to students. One of the most common instances occurs when a teacher attempts to solicit a response from students. Foreign teachers often resist—I have witnessed this—representing their requests in English in a manner most common to their Korean students. (As I said, it's always out of context.) This is the most significant aspect of my teaching experience that I wish to explore. The failure for the teachers, coteachers, schools, administrators to work on encouraging Koreans to be bilingual (I don’t know a better way to put it right now) is a real problem. The other-ing of English alienates English students and instills a power relationship in the classroom that alienates both teachers and students and cultivates an oppressive hierarchy in the classroom that favors the most privileged students and those fortunate enough to have a natural knack for languages.

The resistance teachers encounter and implement in classrooms cultivates a distance from the students and produces a vertically organized classroom with the teacher located at the top and with the most, if not all, power. I’m strictly opposed to this classroom formation. Confronting my resistance, embracing a bit of discomfort, and attempting (in my case) to find a way to use English in the classroom in a way my students can understand it, that is presenting my students with useful English that a Korean can comfortably use as well begins to produce a space where English conversation can occur without the oppressive, insistent force of The Test or A Grade. (I’m not only modeling, I’m leading while inviting as my comments invite an attempt. I am attempting as I want them to attempt. This disturbs the traditional power structure in the classroom as well and destabilizes the students’ safe distance from their teacher.)


The Speaking Test: The following is just a quick example of one way I’m approaching thinking about teaching according to my experiences proctoring conversation tests. In my test, I’m asking students simple questions like: “What happened at the beginning of the story?” They can often answer in strings of nouns and verbs. If the story is about a tired boy who refuses to get out of bed, for example, most of my students can say without too much effort, “Boy…bed…annoyed…sleep…alarm…off.” If I insist, “Try making a simple sentence. Use a noun and a verb. I know you can do it.” If they have studied, they can often say something like, “Boy is sleep. (Long pause.) He is turn off alarm. (Long pause.) He is annoyed.” Only a small minority of students can organize ideas and events into useful sentences.

There are many interesting things about the students’ answers that illustrate how a Korean student sees the English language itself and how the students think English should be used. Or, students consider how to say something in English and they navigate the known differences between English and Korean and then add words they think are necessary. This is a problem for NSET (Native Speaking English Teachers) who know nothing about Hangukmal, Korean language culture and everyday Korean speech. The English-only approach to language education is a failure for many reasons, but for this reason it’s most useless. We do not encourage students to understand both their languages, Korean then English, in relation to each other. It limits learning.

If a student wants to talk about the table with the computer and apple on it on the other side of the classroom, they will quickly translate “computer,” “apple” and “table”. They will make use of the verb “To be” and often as a linking verb, whether or not it is required. My students have the most trouble using prepositions and adverbs. As a result, the simply don’t use them at all. As in my example above, I get a lot of sentences similar to “Boy is sleep” and “He is turn off alarm”.

The problem for me, their teacher, is not that I must now create a lesson where I get them to repeat sentence patterns over and over until they get it right. The problem is to resist teaching as their benevolent leader who insists upon correctness and to help them find a comfortable and logical, a meaningful approach to English usage that they can understand well enough to begin using at an intermediate level that, with practice in conversation, will lead towards mastery.

I’m beginning to learn how to do that. But as I implement my method in classrooms, I’m confronted with two problems: lazy and fearful teachers who’d rather stick to the traditional plans in spite of the literature they read in school that supports my approach, and oppressed students who insist that education means receiving deposits of information from their teacher each day that are organized into lists and bullets and that come with directions explaining exactly how to think about the work to be completed.

On testing culture: Students can score high on TOEIC but can’t use basic English to answer a simple question about daily life and/or simple opinion. For the teacher, it’s frustrating. For the student, it’s humiliating. For the education programs in Korea, it should be embarrassing. But it’s not. Why? Hagwons are set up to teach to tests. In the three years I’ve been here, it’s obvious that hagwons are used in conjunction with the traditional education to such an extent that Koreans seem to believe one can’t exist without the other. This is, in fact, the effective privatization of public education. It’s already happened here.

The better students do on tests, the more profit for everyone. It’s a very simple model. Public schools are set up to form a ranking for potential college entrance. I don’t really see any other focus from junior high school to graduation.  Americans wondering where they stand on the standardization of public education in the United States should get to know Korean public education. It’s enough to make you want to kick Arne Duncan in the nuts and tar and feather Michelle Rhee.

The students who perform well on my two-minute conversation test are not really much smarter than the other students. But they know how to use English to say things. I don’t know where they get that knowledge, but with research I’m sure I could find out. I’ll tell you one thing: they didn’t get it at their expensive hagwon and the skill was likely not attained in English class. Show me two kids who excel at a hagwon, I’ll show you ten who don’t. Remember, I’m not talking about test scores. Hagwon and public schools have shown they can consistently produce high scores on standardized exams. Schools have to use vicious, future-determining curves in order to rank students because too many can consistently achieve the highest scores in each class, even at the lowest ranked schools.

So what’s the point of my two-minute conversation test when, no matter my critique, the ranking is much more important? This is why I’m suffering the issue so much, at such a length. There can be no other goal for me than to help individual students recognize that they have the capability to use English for themselves regardless of their scores on tests and rankings in school, regardless of their hagwon experiences. When I return to teaching after I defend my dissertation, I’m going to figure out a more focused manner to address the problems I’ve raised. Maybe I can find funding to conduct real research?

밤섬해적단 : 20 minutes that'll make Saturday night great.

Heading out to Club Spot tomorrow night to catch a show. Excited most to see 밤섬해적단 (Bamseom Haejeokdan or Bamseom Pirates.) We saw them last at 두리반 (Duriban).

Testing, Testing (Part Two)

This is a continuation of "Testing, Testing" posted last week, April 13. In that post, I wrote:

I’m working on two posts that I’ll soon publish. Maybe I can complete them this evening. The first will explain the work I planned for my classes and illustrate the expectations I had looking ahead to the tests. The second post will illustrate the test and discuss the results, student reception, and their apparent study habits. I’ll try to offer an honest evaluation about the success of the lessons and exam.

I've been sidetracked because the work on my critique of progressive libertarianism and meritocracy has been rather fun. Sidetracked isn't the best term, I guess. I've been reading and haven't taken the time to write about the last month at school. Here goes.

First, I'll discuss the work we completed over a four-week period leading up to the conversation exams. I teach 20 classes each week, each class has 35-42 students. Korean high schools have three grade levels, first through third. I teach the first and second grades. For three weeks, we watched three short-films and worked in groups to discuss and write sentences answering questions about settings, themes, characters, moods, and genres. In the fourth week, we reviewed the three shorts in detail, trying to focus on how to speak about the more interesting scenes in each story and to reinforce new vocabulary. The fifth and sixth weeks have been for the speaking tests. Next week, the students will take their regular, midterm exams. As you can see, I've developed a method for teaching my high school English conversation class that builds a conversation over a four week period. I do this to reinforce new vocabulary, to promote acquisition and to build confidence through familiarity with the chosen subject.

I like this method for two reasons. As I mentioned in my first post, my students' English language skills are lower than expected and desired for university-bound 16-19 year olds. Rather than focus on rudimentary language games that entertain as much as teach, that they've played since early childhood, and rather than focus on building confidence through staging scenarios for conversation via cheesey conversation-starter exercises, I believe my lessons reinforce the kinds of English my students will be required to use as students over the next five years. The lessons are designed to be accessible to almost all my students while being practical for those who will attend university. In addition, my approach doesn't insist that I teach only to the smartest students who are likely going to be competing with many thousands of students, many from higher ranked schools, for positions at the most respected Korean universities. And I simply refuse to teach to the middle, which is always teaching in opposition to critical thinking. My lessons produce space for all students regardless of their English proficiency to practice English and build skills, vocabulary, understanding and confidence.

As teachers we ought to help create a potential for learning to occur rather than work on teaching learning. We help make it possible to produce spaces of learning. We don't create the space and then permit students entrance to it nor  do we enter a space already created and then direct students how to use it. We produce space with the students and work in it together. In Korea and United States, the dominant mode of teaching is what I like to call teacher-ing. Teachers perform for the students. If you want to see heinous examples of this, go to You Tube and search for English Conversation Classes in Korea. You'll find many examples of teachers as clowns. Entertaining, maybe. Hard work, maybe. Not teaching. But the kids and colleagues think it looks like what good teaching should be. In a future post, I'll offer a further critique of this kind of teaching.

Teacher-ing contains things: information, data, language, personality, ethos (both habit and character), intention and equipment. Students are offered an opportunity by teachers to learn what is provided within the well-rehearsed performances. Students who figure out how to score well on exams are rewarded. In addition, students who behave well are rewarded. Some teachers are great performers, but the learning that occurs is never related to the performance. We're all too aware of this; some teachers and administrators love the performance so much that they are unwilling to actually give up and teach. They're dedicated teachers, for sure. They're just not good teachers. They're good performers; good at being the center of attention; they're good graders. In fact, we're learning, much to the chagrine of the education business and its biggest supporters and benefactors, that scoring well on exams and good behavior are not only inaccurate indicators of learning, they may measure something other than learning altogether.

Teacher-ing is the performance of the material in a lesson combined with a sincere hope that students will model the performance and through modeling learn the lesson. I use the word teacher-ing because I believe the performance is actually one step removed from teaching: it's a teacher doing teaching. Good teachers look like good teachers because they're doing things teachers are thought to do and thought ought to do and their students react well to the performance. Teaching, on the other hand, is about working within the public discourse community to produce a space in cooperation with students, school administration and others in the community in which learning occurs through purposeful discourse about different subjects. The objective is that students learn to actively participate in the subjects in a manner that can benefit themselves, the teacher, the school, the community. They learn how to do, to think and to create in cooperation and work with others. Teaching is something one does in a discourse community. It's a role, certainly, but not performed as if on a stage. A teacher's work is performed in media res.

I could continue to make this issue more complicated. In the US, for example, individualism is tied up with the idea that we are sovereign unto ourselves though we are citizens of a state and as such participate in the maintenance of a social contract, whether or not we are conscious of what that means. In Korea, this sense of sovereignty may in fact exist but is not much permitted in school. It's just not encouraged. Here, school is a place of highly structured collectivist culture. And not in the way Americans often think of it: school spirit, clubs, fraternities, sororities, etc.  At any rate, I'm not addressing this significant aspect of teaching in this post. I'm trying to articulate I believe we ought to create lessons that promote teaching rather than resort to teacher-ing.

My classes are 50 minutes in length. I like to have 15 minutes of group work each week, and I usually explain/lecture for about 10 minutes. Half of each of my classes is spent either speaking with the students and them speaking with me, so in some sort of conversation, and/or listening and observing something that is presented in English. This year I'm using short films with little to no dialogue. The films tend to be around 2-3 minutes in length. My rule is that they never be more than 10 minutes. I want at least 15 minutes of conversation in each class.

I can't assign reading in my classes for two reasons. We have few materials and little money for materials and I have no way to insure the students will complete homework. Basically, I get 50 minutes a week with 20 classes. It's very difficult to cultivate a productive and useful space for English language learning and acquisition to occur in a meaningful and consistent manner.

I must bring all materials to class and leave with them and must be able to set-up the classroom in a matter of minutes or else I lose valuable time with my students. I decided that bringing a laptop and necessary cables was the best solution. I can start a class in the time it takes for a projector to warm up. While I get the computer, screen and projector set up, my students form groups and distribute my weekly handout.  I'm going to focus on one lesson rather than all three, but describe to you the procession of lessons in summary. Though I've created a routine for my classes, the lessons build on each other. In my classes, we really do work together to approach a useful, meaningful and somewhat interesting English conversation about our subject.
Over the last month, my students have practiced speaking first about setting and characters, second about themes and kinds of stories, and third about how stories make us feel. The fourth week, we sat back and watched all three short films, one after the other, with the volume down low, and we spoke about each scene using the vocabulary I provided them on the handouts.

My next post will present, in detail, one of the three lessons. The following will discuss the speaking test. The third will offer a critique of what I think about the kind of teaching I have witnessed in classrooms here. Needless to say, I am not impressed and happy about it. I have to attend a teacher training session next week, and I'll pan my third post so I write about it as well.

Testing, Testing

It's tricky. My students' English is below average for high school students in Seoul. The standard lies about their potential to use English. Many have as much English education as the high-performing students, but are not as good accessing it, using it. Their confidence, as a result, is rather low--lower than it should be.

In Korea, the poor kids at the lowest-ranked high schools do not feel smart, are not comfortable being treated as intelligent, are in no way what an American teacher would call entitled. In fact, their teachers talk about them as if they aren't capable of anything better. Their lack of confidence creates a difficult environment for English conversation in the classroom. I know at least 40-50% of the students in each class, around 300 students at my school, simply see no reason to try any longer. A good portion of those kids will not attend university.

I'm a teacher who respects a students' choice to not participate. I'm not happy about it, but I know it doesn't create a better classroom community, better discourse when ten of the thirty to forty students aren't interested and, quite frankly, need not be interested. The kids know more than anybody else that high school is not mandatory, university is for privileged Koreans, and they'd likely be better off doing something more productive with their time. The difference between conversation with and about students is strikingly different here. There's a pragmatism about the future in Korea that, though it may have been useful in the past, serves to paint a rather thick line of boundary between the privileged upper-class and everyone else. And my students are woefully attuned to it without protest.

This week and next, I'm conducting 750 or so two-minute conversation exams. I'm halfway through the first week and have seen almost a quarter of my students. It's tiring, a little boring, yet I find these tests an interesting commentary on the value of the work I plan and complete with the students leading up to our tests.
I'm working on two posts that I'll soon publish. Maybe I can complete them this evening. The first will explain the work I planned for my classes and illustrate  the expectations I had looking ahead to the tests. The second post will illustrate the test and discuss the results, student reception, and their apparent study habits. I'll try to offer an honest evaluation about the success of the lessons and exam. I try to be as self-critical as possible. It's too easy as the only English-speaking teacher on a campus of 1200 students, teachers and staff to become over critical to the point of pointless dwelling in shit.

I often feel unfocused, un-implemented, if you will, here. And it's natural to blame my colleagues, the rather rigid dogma of Korean culture, even the idealism in my pedagogical perspectives. Fact is, my presence here is an imposition on everyone, me too. I've had to come to terms that I'm over-qualified for this job and improperly placed. I was put at this school by request from a principal who wanted an experienced teacher for the school's first appointed Native Speaking English Teacher. I'd likely be much better used at one of the top-ranked schools where the kids could get much more out of me and my skills.

Yet, and it's a strong yet, I am over-joyed to be working at a school with kids Korea has more or less written off. I hate the rich with a passion, and since arriving in Korea, have grown more peaceful with my basic opposition to the upper classes. In the US, entitlement and privilege are often hidden because the middle classes delude themselves into believing they can one day gain elite status, and the poorest believe that hope is not futile. In Korea, the wealthiest people are assholes who flaunt their status as if they were born righteously privileged and any challenge to it is and will always be immoral and rude.  I hate wealthy Koreans; they are disgusting, mean, irritating, arrogant pricks.

In other words, I love my school and look forward to seeing the students each day.

And speaking of tests, here are my students.

The Right to Assemble & Speak & Distribute Information

From The Boston Globe, "SKorean police arrest 4 people over G-20 protests." (I'll try to get out and snag a few photographs of protests and other activities in the next few days and during the summit.)



The G20 looms in Seoul and Koreans will show up in thousands to protest.  There will likely be hundreds of arrests and as many news stories about the protests and arrests--as many as will be published about the political and corporate interests that are represented at the Summit itself.

I think we should remember what's at stake as Korea and Koreans continue to become more significant to the global capitalist market: Korean well-being. For me the highlight of this G20 Summit is the Korean people who have accomplished so much in the last 40 years yet continue to struggle with the cultural impact and realities that a fair and just democratic society imposes upon them as it promises to more or less liberate them. In my opinion, Koreans are at odds with the capitalist market and its ability to exploit democratic institutions to make a profit. Of course, foreign interests in Korea often get blamed and foreign laborers often receive the rhetorical force of the blaming rhetoric. We should not forget that conservative elements in Korea that are not Nationalistic but Corporate are at work behind organizing and disseminating the nationalist fear and rhetoric because it serves their purposes well: it makes the majority of Koreans, the working poor to working middle classes, look immature, petty, bitter, and unable to effectively lead. The resulting sentiment offers a slimy protection of Korea's ruling elite.

We should insist that the highlights of the G20 protests in Seoul, organized by Koreans, are the labor activists protesting cuts to social welfare programs. The Korean left is correct to be concerned and their early protests are a sign of their precise action rather than their often reported disorganization and vitriol.

Nevertheless, the conservative Korean press is likely to highlight any and all nationalist rhetoric within the Korean protests and amongst public Korean dissent. Such press serves an important cultural purpose: it protects Korea's elite. The unfortunate result is that the shitty expat blogging community will find further reason to hate on Korean activism via blogs regarding unfair treatment of foreigners by Korean bigots or regarding behavior non-Koreans find silly, stupid and offensive. It's always one or the other with foreign bloggers: criticize bigotry in Korea or illustrate their stupidity. Especially white bloggers: white folks love to illustrate others' bigotry. You know, it's white power's only effective use: Scapegoating.

Please support Koreans' right to organize, distribute information, protest, assemble and speak in public. Please celebrate that attempt to preserve their rights. In this celebration maybe we can find a little more energy to afford looking after our own back home, which are in fact in jeopardy. The democracy movement is alive and still struggling here. Without positive portrayals, like the Boston Globe's piece this morning, we cannot expect the remaining love of nationalist sentiment and protectionism to lose its popular appeal. And rather than the protests being about how the rest of the world envisions and represents Korea's nationalist sentiment, this should be about insisting Koreans are able to distribute information to shape policy and rhetoric.

Please do stop highlighting the minority nationalist interests as if those ideas are passively supported by the majority of Koreans. They aren't. It's about as silly as claiming the Tea Party represents the majority American sentiment regarding economic and social policies because the press pays so much attention to it. It's damaging to the progressive left (even the progressive right) who's image is often smeared in the right wing/corporate popular press.

Tropical Storm Kompasu.

Trying to get accurate English information about typhoons on the Korean peninsula is a real pain in the ass.  The expat sites list weather information sites like The Weather Channel, which absolutely blows unless you'd like to know if it's going to rain out your NASCAR or NFL or College Football event.  {Ed. 942am: Here's one. Thanks, Cliff!  Korea Meteorological Administration.}

Last year, there were no typhoons.  I grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  From five to fourteen, 1975-1984ish, I lived in fear that the Arkansas River would flash flood and drown my neighbors.  It did once.  In addition, we survived several massive tornadoes.  I know the use of a bathtub or an oak closet and a mattress.   I lived through Hurrican Gloria in New London, Connecticut.  We had no electricity for a week after that one.  These were all adventures for me.  I remember them not with fear, but still my heart races with excitement each time a big storm passes my way.

So, I want to know about this typhoon that is now crashing its way across Seoul and the peninsula.  The winds are strong, the gusts tremendous.  Schools don't close in Korea, so I'll get to ride it out with students, faculty and staff.  Our school is older and rotten.  It's sturdy, of course, but it's nothing more than concrete and sliding-glass panes.  We'll hear the entire storm as the building should act like a poorly engineered, rectangular ear.  From what I can tell, after the brunt of the storm passes, we're likely to experience some grand thunderstorms through the weekend.

I love the thunder.  I praise the rain.  I like the gray days that sweep me away to my interior best self and blanket me.  I fear the storms but always want to venture outdoors during their mad climaxes.  A result of my young father, in his late twenties and early thirties during the storm years of my youth, dragging us out into the stormy nights after the worst had passed to survey the damage.

Apropos, then, that this great tropical storm, low-grade Typhoon Kompasu, kept me awake rattling windows while I've been negotiating my youth for my novel.  Figuring things out.  Cracking memories like the torn tarp flapping on my scooter, snapping my seat.




--------info

***4AM Woken by the trucking wind, rattling windows.  Typhoon Kompasu is motoring through Seoul.

***730AM and the storm is not shutting down schools even as we learn that most subway lines are delayed and that the one or two are no longer running.  I will have to walk all the way to school.  Bound to get soaked.  From what I can tell, it's a level one typhoon.  Not a scary typhoon at all, but winds can gust up to 125mph and remain steady between 70 and 95mph.  We're getting blown by massive winds in my neighborhood, but it's all mostly gusty right now.  From what I can tell, the storm's center should be off the peninsula by late this afternoon.  I'll update with info.  Maybe some pics if anything interesting happens.  ANyway, it's loud at times, but nothing is blowing around.  No electricity out.  I'm glad.  I'm just recovering from my wedding and two week trip to Chicago.  I'd love it to blow and rain a bit but I'd like to do it with comfort.  I'm pooped.  Off to school.

***930AM and the storm is over. Satellite images show the storm has left Seoul and moved Northeast.  I'm sad that it passed through during the wee hours and early morning because I couldn't go out and snap photos of the wind beating the crap out of everything.  Oh well.  There's always the next typhoon.  My colleagues are telling me that the winds were pretty severe with this storm.  It sounded wonderful.  At times like trucks passing by our windows.  Fortunately, no damage was done to our school.  I really don't have any faith that classroom or office damage would be fixed in a timely manner.  Right now, all money goes into the decaying gymnasium.  They've been working on that filthy place since I arrived in 2008.  The rain falling now is that wonderful misty spray that quickly and thoroughly wets without much force, intimidation or show.  I like it.  What don't I like about this now:  humidity.  Lots of humidity.  Adds extra pounds to everyone walking.  Yesterday, the humidity rose so quickly while Praise and I were walking through Myeongdong that it felt to me like she had thrown a wet hot blanket over my back.  I don't mind heat.  I loathe humidity.  Looking forward to autumn.  Chuseok is an entire week off school this year.  Just over two weeks away.

Rained Out.

It's been raining for several days now.
My students experience weather depression.
Seoul Sunless Mood Disorder. SSMD.

I've always liked cool gray days, lightly
humid, dripping nights, windows open
listening to aimless water dropping on the sill.
Strolling along. Dwelling.

When Late Spring rains in Seoul, the classrooms go dank:
sweat-dampened clothes, unclean bodies.
Crotch. Ass. I'd take feet.
Too-long left unwashed uniforms: gray pants,
plaid or blue skirts. Stinking tights. Socks.
Damp slipper Vans.
Converse.

---

"Look at me enjoying something
that feels like, feels like pain
to my brain."

Scooters: Riding in Seoul

I've got an hour free from the kids late this morning. It's nice because I am at the beginning of a two-week conversation exam. 2100 minutes of conversation for points! I get to speak with each of my 700 or so students for three minutes: introductions, favorites, memories, personalities. It's difficult for me because of the mind-numbing repetition. It's horrible for the kids because they are acutely aware of their below-expectations conversation skills. I hate that about school here. The students are really ground in to the locale. I'm working hard to make the three minutes as entertaining as possible; I'm only 85 students into the 700-deep kid pool and very tired indeed. In fact, soaked.

During my break. I thought I'd write a little about Spring scooting in Seoul. It's worth thinking about riding safety this month because we had a rather atypical winter. It was very wet and very cold. And winter sucks the humidity right out of Seoul. So, it's dry, too. This is not good for the scooters and the roads.

First, I think it's a good idea to get your scooter tuned after each winter. (Even better, tune it yourself.) On the newer scooters, it might not be necessary for you to change your oil. However, it's worth it to get the brakes checked and get somebody to physically inspect the bike. Also have the variator, its bearings and belt examined.

It's obvious that Seoul bureaucrats didn't anticipate a rough winter because many streets had been newly paved with soft, black asphalt in November just before the first chill and snow. This means a two to three inch layer of asphalt was laid on top of already existing streets and never had time to fully set before the rigors of winter and traffic. Many places in my district, the city didn't bother to demolish the decaying older layer of concrete and asphalt and the roads are now a mess. But we should expect to see problems even in the areas that were torn up to prepare for a new street.

Because of the unseasonable weather, we have streets with soft, crumbling pockets of asphalt in heavily traveled lanes and rightmost bus lanes. In addition, we have very dangerous potholes. Because many new manholes have been created on side streets, you will want to look out for manholes sticking out and above the street. You won't want to be running into those.

I want to address the potholes because they are, in fact, the most difficult road hazard to see. When scooting on an asphalt or concrete road with little traffic, an attentive rider will have little trouble spotting holes. Seoul's traffic makes this cautious, predictive riding difficult. As a result, we have to assume that we will encounter potholes while riding, even if we can't see them. My advice is to ride in the middle lane of traffic whenever you're riding in an area of town you're unfamiliar with.

Most major streets in Seoul have three accessible lanes of traffic. There are typically four lanes, but one is often for the buses or clogged with parked taxis. My advice is to ride in the center lane because the rightmost lanes are always the most heavily traveled and are likely to have the most potholes as a result. The most dangerous potholes will appear in two places in the right lanes: where the driving surface meets the concrete foundation for the curb and to the right of the painted lane divisions where the left tires of most vehicles travel.

The safest place to scoot is in the middle of the middle lane of traffic. Never mind the potholes, it's simply safer than the left or right lanes. While you're learning to ride and learning to ride in Seoul, I think it's a good idea to resist cruising in the right hand lanes. Seoul drivers love to make right hand turns from the middle lanes. They do this because they're impatient and lost, but also because the taxis usually clog the right hand lanes and often pull over to pick up or drop off passengers without any notice. Scooting in the right hand lane, therefore, takes some skill and nerve. If you make a habit of it, you will need to learn how to be cut-off and pinched from your lane without stopping and falling off your scooter or, more likely, causing every driver behind you and to your left to have to quickly stop while you do.

The left lane is also a difficult proposition because Seoul drivers, and especially taxi and bus drivers, love to jockey between lanes without reason and without signaling. I have begun referring to this as "lane protecting". The drivers like to protect a comfortable area in a lane or potential lane. I used to think they were jockeying just to travel faster. After six months of scooting, I have learned that drivers know they are getting nowhere fast. The lane jockeying is often an aggressive (and sometimes violent) reaction to the clogged traffic conditions. Anyway, many will signal but just as they pull into their new lanes.

Lane-jockeying might be the most dangerous habit drivers develop on Seoul streets. It's such a terrible itch for some that they will drive with a quarter of their car occupying the left lane and the rest in the right. And if you try to pass them, they will knee-jerk their car in front of you.

Seoul road conditions make scooting here dangerous and something for the aggressive driver. Seoul is not the place for leisurely scooting: it's dirty, aggressive labor. It's a blast, too, don't get me wrong. Just don't buy a scooter thinking you'll be loving leisurely scoots along the river or through Hongdae or to Itaewon. These are three of the most traffic-bound areas in Seoul and, consequently, the most dangerous places to ride.

Back to lane tactics: I find myself accelerating out of bad situations much more often than decelerating and playing defense. This is necessary because the drivers are often completely unaware of your presence. Be warned: Seoul drivers only use their mirrors to park. When a driver makes a move and cuts you off, you may not be able to slow down because of the tailgating traffic behind you and that may cause you to get pinched in between cars. If that happens you'll likely be bumped into, scared, and scratch the other cars as well as your scooter. And the drivers will likely pretend nothing happened or you'll have an old guy follow you and insist you give him money. If you think I'm exaggerating, take a moment to examine the condition of cars in Seoul (if you haven't already). There are not many that lack physical evidence of minor accidents and collisions. If you get bumped in heavy traffic, you'll likely only receive an ugly stare. To the point, if somebody begins to move into your lane, it's often safer to quickly accelerate (as you can on a good scooter) and travel the 15 feet to get in front of the dangerous idiot cutting you off.

A side note: taxi drivers are often the most aggressive drivers. This is good for us because we can easily see them. And if you keep their driving habits in mind, you'll be the safer for it. On Lane-splitting: If you like to travel between lanes in slow traffic like many scooterists do here, you must keep an eye on the taxis. Many ajeossi will see you coming and turn into the lane you've split to cut off your access to pass. It's a dick move, but they'll do it. (And so will the bus drivers, but asshole bus drivers are for another post. Safe to say, watch out for them. They will run you off the road on purpose.) If you're traveling slow enough, you can simply turn behind the taxi and pass on his right with comfortable room. If you're zooming along at an unsafe speed for lane-splitting, you'll end up stopped near the driver's window and only to be ignored by the man who just got a huge kick out of encumbering your progress.

In addition, taxi drivers are not afraid of moving into a lane you occupy to accelerate beyond slower traffic. They will use the part of the lane you aren't driving in to just make it past a car traveling the speed limit in front of them. Yes, it's dangerous. No, it does absolutely no good to get upset about it. You must be prepared for these kinds of aggressive driving tactics. When they happen to you, you cannot get so frightened you lose control of yourself. Take a breath, don't change your speed, loosen your grip on the accelerator, and swear up a storm. I end up with a taxi driving two inches from my knee at least once each time a drive in traffic. You will get used to it.

Remember:

1. If you aren't traveling at full speed, you can often quickly accelerate out of a troubling situation by traveling a mere ten to twenty feet forward and finding/creating new space to ride in.
2. Never tailgate. Never Never Never. You will end up on the trunk of a car.
3. You can stop more quickly than you think possible. If you need to stop quickly, don't throw yourself of your scooter. I've seen it happen.
4. Ride in a lane that will permit you to see as much of the road ahead of you as possible. Good scooterists are able to see the road ahead and reliably forecast what will happen. In addition, you need to see the road in front of you to check for litter, industrial waste, sand, and potholes.
5. The lane paint in Korea is much more slippery when wet than anything I encountered in the US. I don't know why but it's like ice. It's often slippery when visibly dry. You will lose control if you ride on the lane paint. It's only a matter of when. Stay off of it.

OK, students are returning to continue testing. I'll have more scooter info this week. And some photos and videos to come.

I've met a store owner who wants to sell scooters to foreigners, but he recently changed his phone number. I'll track him down shortly. He treated me fairly, and I think he believes he can create a little business by cultivating a good reputation with knowledgeable foreigners. Of course, before buying a scooter you should know what you want and the kind of bike you want. Otherwise, somebody will take advantage of you and sell you something you don't know anything about. It'll be your fault if things don't work out. If you need help, I have time to help. Ask me a question or two.

You can easily find info about scooters on the Internet. Just a search in Google images can help you discover what you like and help you learn names. My advice is to discover the scooters in our market. They have different names here than in Europe and the US. A quick primer: stay away from Chinese scoots; they need a lot of repair. Japanese scooters will be your best bet because many Korean brands are actually Chinese bikes. Some Taiwanese brands are good, too.

It's not worth it to unload $5,000-7,000 on a nice Vespa because you want to look cute or be hip. And if you don't know vintage scooters, stay away from the Genuine Stella or older Vespas. There are a couple of shops selling vintage and vintage-style scooters here; it's a shitty thing to do to a foreigner who knows nothing about scooters, lives in an officetel, has no garage, can't speak the language, and can't work on her or his own bike. Parts and service for old bikes and vintage-style two strokes are hard to come by in Seoul. There's only two or three trustworthy shops and they will be expensive due to their exclusivity. In addition, if you're like me and would like to work on an old bike, parts must be ordered online and garage space is difficult to come by. Anyway, your cool vintage bike will eventually break and if you know nothing about it, you'll be very pissed with how hard it is to insure its proper repair. And you'll likely be stranded on the side of the road crying about it all as your illusion of hipness evaporates into the Seoul summer heat.

In addition, your bike will get dirty and scratched and you can't do anything about it. Buying a fancy shining luxury item in Seoul is ok if you don't mind it losing half its value immediately and you don't mind the prospect of not finding somebody to buy it when you leave in a couple of years. Who would want to spend that kind of money on a used scooter?

Anyway, stay in touch scooter fans and don't be afraid to ask questions. If you've been waiting for me to respond recently, I have been sick and so busy at work and language school and with family. I apologize. Do get in touch with me now via the site or email. We'll talk. Let's get you a scooter. It's a real kick and the best way to learn about this city.

Kicking Against the Pricks

Reports: SKorean Internet addicts let baby starve - Boston.com

Posted using ShareThis

When something awful happens in Korea, awful enough to make the news--police killing protesters, sexual predation, parents killing their children, a President committing suicide--the entire culture seems to participate in a collective and public embarrassment and dread regarding answering what it means that something that awful could happen in Korea. They don't want to talk about it; it puts everyone into a real funk. It's an entirely different response to similar and more common incidents in the United States, where I feel Americans expect such spectacles and especially on the evening news. I was about to ask a Korean colleague about the Internet Addict story the other day and found myself pausing suddenly and changing the subject. I realized that I was only asking because I wanted to make her uncomfortable. I was a little shocked at my motivation.

When considering the seedy United States, Koreans hear old and new stories about lynchings, rapes, fathers killing their families then killing themselves, an increasing number of convicted sex offenders, and rampant drug addiction. Anything spectacular happens in the US, and I will be asked about it over lunch. My interviewer will study my response with a subtle yet shocked expression as if to say, Really, you seem all right but what's wrong with you guys? (Lately, the questions have been about health care. Why don't you want everybody to have health care?)

Not that I'm bothered for a moment that Koreans believe Americans are perverts. So much of this is based on naive acceptance of gossip as fact, and I'm kind of the example that proves otherwise. On the other hand, the history of Americans in Asia, and Korea in particular, is far from exemplary. Sure many of us are doing good work here, but that's not enough to change the overall perception of the US and American culture. And judging from the activity I've witnessed here, it wouldn't surprise me to find out that my Korean friends think we're childish and self-centered snobs. I've heard as much, but with an apology because I'm not that way but America seems like it is. Add to the suspicions that we are, in fact, the most militaristic nation, consistently driven to protect economic interest through participation in foreign wars and maintaining a militarized presence in many countries, and you know it's safe to say that you'd have to be a jingoistic prick to not sympathize with their lack of trust and faith.

Anyway, I have to admit that Americans are often treated like the perverted 14 year old down the street who the parents tolerate but keep at a distance because they think he's been humping their dogs while they work. Or, at least that's how I sometimes feel about the stares I get from women, grandmas, and old men while I'm walking around town. Many of my friends complain about how we're perceived, but it's going to take a long time for Koreans to collectively decide there's true value in global multiculturalism and to learn to reform the nationalist spirit with which it shelters its racism and racists.

I would be a little more interested in my fellow expats' complaints if included in them were, for example, any compassion for other workers, other immigrant laborers who live here and are truly oppressed, like say the thousands of Chinese who live in close to abject poverty in my Gu, who slave away in Seoul's restaurants. But this is representative of a general disconnect white Americans have from the reality of oppression. White folks love to complain about how they are treated while ignoring the horrible oppression of others. Throw them an orphan to cuddle or an old comfort woman to cry about on weekends and they're back to complaining about racism at Monday night dinner. The excuse for complaining ad nauseam being that nobody should be treated this way. I hate the "least of all me" mentality most: the notion that we are to be treated well because we are here habit.

I don't buy it. I think it's easy to look at Koreans in Korea and criticize their failures at understanding what multiculturalism is all about. It's easy, not because Korean society is so monolithic, but because Americans fail at achieving the benefits true multiculturalism can provide a diverse society. We fail at it, yet we expect Korea to open it arms to us and provide with access to its culture without expecting us to assimilate and while permitting us to appropriate.

This story about the baby who starved while her parents were playing a video game where they were raising a virtual child has scandalized Korea and Koreans. They abhor stories like this and are extremely embarrassed by them. I was in a devilish mood the other day and thought about going around asking folks about it, teasing them I guess, like they ask me about American embarrassments. But I checked that little devil and let the temptation pass. Who needs another white guy telling them that their country has problems? Especially when I am one their problems.

Shoe Story

From The New York Times:

SEOUL, South Korea — In South Korea, where people often remove their shoes before entering homes, restaurants or funeral parlors, it is a nagging problem: people walking off with others’ shoes, either by mistake or, sometimes, intentionally.

Still, Detective Kim Jeong-gu’s jaw dropped recently when he opened the warehouse of an ex-convict in Seoul and found 170 apple boxes packed with 1,700 pairs of expensive designer shoes, sorted by size and brand, and all believed to have been stolen.

“Shoe theft is not unusual here,” Detective Kim, 28, said. “But we gasped at this one.”

Many of my colleagues have stories of lost shoes. After soccer games, I keep my nice pair of Adidas in my bag.

서울시장: What are your favorite markets?

서울시장 (seoul shijang): Seoul Market

I'm gathering photos and working on a post about Seoul Markets right now. The city has hundreds of them. And a few are world famous.

I love market strolling and so I'm wondering about your favorites? Write about the markets you visit in the comments. And if you live outside of Seoul, tell us where we should go when we visit your town.

dagTunes: Do Make Say Think in Seoul (V-Hall, Sunday, 2/21/10)

Do Make Say Think will be in Seoul this weekend. I'll be there, too. 비둘기우유 (Vidulgi Ooyoo) is opening up for them. Two great live bands! And, from what I've read, all 9 members of DMST will make the trip to Seoul.

I'm excited about this show because it's a change of pace for me. I'm usually all about the ska/early reggae & hardcore shows and clubs. Seoul actually has a diverse live scene.

It's just that it's so tempting to stay with What I Know and Where I Go. Know what I mean?

It's a little expensive, but I want to support the effort to bring good acts here. Here's link to the Korea Gig Guide calendar for the weekend.


Save money and visit the supercolorsuper web site to learn how to buy tickets in advance to save 10,000Won.

Purchasing a Scooter in Seoul

This can be a rather daunting project. Who do you trust? At least, that's how I approached the matter. I am a scooterist in the States and have experience buying scooters: one modern and several vintage. In my opinion, two things matter most: knowledge and trust.

Trust is difficult away from home. Not speaking but a little Korea and knowing that much is lost in translation, I was worried about walking into an autobike shop and negotiating with an ajossi about a new or used ride. The prospect of shopping via Craigslist or 4OKs was equally as aggravating. Many foreign scooterists in Seoul know nothing about the machine they are riding. Understandably, they have absolutely no idea about their scoot's condition.

Take my advice, I'd stay away from a bike being sold by a temporary, foreign owner unless you have someone you trust check it out first. (Even if you know the person selling the bike. Nothing like a bad sale to ruin a friendship. Trust me. I've seen it happen.) Buying a scooter from somebody because the bike looks good and not knowing anything about its history could very well be a ticket to a hospital bed. Scooters are simple machines, certainly, but because they are simple it doesn't take much for them to become dangerous modes of transportation. Remember we don't have garages here in which to get under a bike and check it out on a monthly basis. People, especially foreigners, ride their scoots until they break. Then have them fixed cheaply. Then ride some more. Why would you be willing to give money for that bike without first knowing about the bike? A bad front fork from slamming the scoot down curbs and in and out of street holes or a weak braking system and you're in trouble. Just sayin.^^

So, first there's trust. And I'm picky. I didn't like a lot of what I saw, though I wanted something specific. In the end, Praise and I began planning to go to shops and sussing out a trustworthy ajossi. What we learned is priceless.

First, find an ajossi who wants to do business with a foreigner to increase his own business and this guy will bend over backwards to find you the scooter you want. They're easy to find because most small business owners in Seoul operate via word-of-mouth. If an ajossi wants your business, he'll tell you as much because he'll see you as a good investment. If he's uninterested in your business, he'll ignore you and I'd suggest going to a shop where you're not ignored.

Of course, you're going to pay a little more than you would if you bought from a foreigner exiting country. But I can tell you the experience is worth 20-30 manwon more. There'll be a finder's fee of around 10manwon and the scooter will be worth more, too.

I should say that the guy who helped us hooked us up with a scooter with less than 700km that goes in the US for 2800$ for what came to 900$. In Korea, the Bella goes for around 1.8 to 2.0 million won, and we bought it for half that. He basically sold me a new, 125cc scoot from Suzuki that is popular in each international market under various names (in the US, Genuine sells it as The Buddy,) with a good reputation for being a solid performer, for almost 60% off. I'm ecstatic.

But it wasn't luck and it wasn't only my knowledge of scooters. Anybody can get this deal. The only reason my seller did this was because I'm a foreigner and he wants other foreigners to come to him to buy scooters. He made an investment. He could have held that scoot and sold it to somebody else for 1.3-1.6 million won. Now I don't know how he got the scooter and, quite frankly, I don't care. It wasn't stolen or abused or in an accident, so I don't need to care.

I was going to make offers on used scooters on store lots until I got a good deal. But there are so many Chinese scooters around it was looking as if to be safe I'd have to buy a new scoot. Let me make it clear to my friends reading this: those Chinese-market scooters may look cute and be cheaper but they will end up costing you more because you constantly repair them or you will be in an accident. Either way, it's heartache. Don't buy them. It's super-simple in Seoul to find a used Korean (Daelim,) Taiwanese (Kymco,) or Japanese (Suzuki) scooter for between 80 and 150manwon.

In addition, it is highway robbery to pay for a popular scooter like a Genuine Stella or a Piaggio Vespa in Korea because it will cost you at least 2,300$ to ship it home. You simply will not find a buyer who will pay you what it's worth when you leave Korea. They are expensive new and you'll want at least half back for what you've paid. The nice scooters, the vanity scooters, are far too expensive in Korea because only rich Koreans ride them. Even the restored vintage scooters are cheaper here than Italian or knock-offs like the LML or Genuine Stella. In addition, I've been riding my scoot for 300km and I can tell you that Seoul is murder on a scooter. Without a garage and tools and parts, a good vintage or fancy modern scoot is like throwing money away. Anyway, I'm getting off point.

I was going to make an offer on a used scoot but the ajossi at the store asked me what I wanted. I had told him that I was in a scooter club in the US and that I knew how to work on scooters and knew what I wanted. He immediately told me not to buy the used scoots on his lot because I'd have trouble. So, trust is good folks but knowledge is how you find a deal. He knew he couldn't sell me the junk because I was looking under the bikes and checking out wear and tear and asking questions. And wouldn't you know it, he said he'd find me a bike. In 48 hours, I was riding with Praise on the back of a cute, durable and stylish modern scooter that was like new for almost a third of the price.

I'll hook anybody up with this man. And when I have time this weekend, I'll be taking some more photos of my bike and his shop. I'll post the info. I told him I would. If you're looking now, get in touch with me and I'll send you his info. He doesn't speak English. You will need somebody who is fluent in Korean.

So, photos to come and some more scooting in Korea info as I have stories to come.

One Year Down, Two to Go

A year has passed. A little too quickly for my pleasure. Nevertheless, I'm very happy with Seoul.

I'm writing this post in a PC bang. The Internet connection in my apartment is great some days, slow others. I head to the PC bang whenever I want to use youtube and facebook, or stream video and radio.

I'm a fan of MonkeyTown. In 대학동(Daehakdong,) it's one of the only PC bangs that's non-smoking and where the computers and PC stations are kept clean. I keep an account with them: for $35, I'm able to utilize a personal login and work for 47 hours. My last payment has lasted the entire summer and I have 11 hours left as of this post. Pretty good deal.

I live in what was recently known as 신림9동 (Sillim 9 dong.) Sillimdong was an 11 district neighborhood within 관악구 (Gwanakgu,) the most populated area of Seoul. My neighborhood is now known as Daehakdong. Daehak means academy or college as it points to where students assemble and dong is a place where we live like a neighborhood. It's a good name. The neighborhood is home to students of Seoul National University as well as 고시 (goshi) students who are studying for law tests, like the bar in the US.

From what I can gather, all the old Seoul neighborhoods where the poor lived and are undergoing slow gentrification are being re-named. Not that anything progressive is being done to combat poverty in old Sillim; the buildings, on the other hand, are being renovated and folks are taking advantage of the cheaper real estate.

I've promised myself to post more. I want to get back to posting once a day. I have little scrapbooks filled with notes and miscellany. I really should be getting my more of my thoughts down.

I'm going to begin looking for office space to write. Most likely, I'll rent a little room like the law students do while in Seoul for several months studying for their exams. I'm working on my novel again. Finally. I'm no hermit while I write. If anything, I'm more social, more energetic. I certainly sleep less, dream more, and I consume more text.

I'll try to get some photos of my neighborhood up.

Getting On With It: How it Goes

I have a lot to put up here in the next few days.  I just posted to DagSign as did Praise.  By the Way, Praise will be posting often to DagSign and to DagSeoul, I imagine.   I like collaboration and I like her.  A Lot.  Call it Love.  Just don't think of that Alain de Botton novel.  Get used to her.  I had to.  (sarcasm.)

Uhm, so: photos of local love motels, students, classrooms; stories about riding buses, trains, Korean "mountains", food, local folks I love, local folks I don't get, and language.  And don't get me started about education and the Korean Government's habit of arresting journalists who write negative things about it and the economy.  That's the forecast.  I am full with words; thoughts falling all over the place, tinkling shiny metalic baubles, littering my path, enticing you to follow.

Yesterday, for example, I was up at 6AM.  By 8.20 I was teaching my first of four classes, visiting 35 of 150 students I will see every Tuesday until late June.  We worked on minimal pairs, -s ending sounds, and discussing "interests"/making "plans".  I ate something--I really don't know what it is called and neither do my colleagues--for lunch around Noon and chatted with Praise whenever I had a break.  We wrote about dinner with her Cousin at 8PM, which quickly followed the first meeting of my new students at Seoul National University student union from 4:30 till 6PM.  The walk from school to Seouldae campus was wonderful but quick as I left my classroom at Samseong High School around 4.10.  Dinner with Praise's relative was wonderful as was my meeting with my new students, soon to be friends I hope, as was the walk to Seouldae with many of my highschool students lagging behind and shouting at me, as was my day at school, as was my morning walk to campus.

I got home.  I laid down.  I fell asleep.  Turn the page and it's already 2.40PM the next day, near 120 more students seen, and I am preparing to see off my good friend Jan as he leaves Seoul, I hope not but perhaps for good.  But before that happens I have to teach my weekly Faculty English class from 4-5pm.  We will discuss our families tonight.  I'll get home around 5.45 and leave by 6.15 for Sinchon and dinner.  And goodbyes.  I hope I get drunk.

I miss nothing of the United States and this has me feeling down.  Vacant.  I do miss my family very much.  But the being there that I thought I would miss has been replaced with a being here that I much more interested in.  Do you understand what I mean?  I don't know if I do fully.  I am trying to wrap my mind around it.

Somehow, I am finding time to write, play soccer, cultivate a healthy relationship, and learn a new language. 

Seoul Shows. Weekend 11/28/2008.

Nothing on Friday. And Saturday does not look too promising, but then I am playing soccer on Saturday and will likely be drinking with the team afterwards.

Sunday, however, looks fun.

At 4pm, Yogiga, there will be a noise show.

Bulgasari - experimental noise night. featuring: Sato Yukie, Lee Han-ju, Hong Shine, Michael Oakley.

I looked up Bulgasari and the web site hasn't been updated in a while. But it looks pretty promising. I will go if I can find Gallery Yogiga.

Then, at 8pm, FF, Jens Leckman

Jens Lekman, with Pink Elephant, We Need Surgery and The Fist
Time: 8:00pm. Admission: 25,000 won.

Sounds great, but 25,000 won is a rip-off. Leckman is great. But even Sonic Youth doesn't cost 25bucks in the states. Can't see some singer-songwriter making it worthwhile. Esp, since I'd have to catch a cab home from Hongdae (about 13,000 won) afterwards.

Let's face it. The underground music scene in Seoul suffers because there is no solidarity between clubs and club owners and show promotion is an absolute joke. I'd love to help, but all my shit is in storage in the US. And I have no time to do anything with my work schedule.

The opportunity for a killer music scene exists, but...

Anyway,

Like NOISE. Let's get together and check out Bulgasari. Should be pretentious fun. At least my brain will get a work out.

Oh. I think Samchung is playing Saturday night. HOT. That's what to do on Saturday. The Spot has a show. More than 10 bands--metal to hardcore--15,000 won. Should be loud, sweaty fun. But I am digging playing striker for Hae Woori too much to ditch for music. I smelled goal last week. I will score this week.

Seoul Life

[Note: I am still experiencing Internet access issues at my flat. Some days the speed is so slow, I cannot tolerate working online. So, I haven't blogged as often as I like. My landlord recently fixed my cable access--though I don't watch the TV, save for soccer--and now, strangely, my Internet access has improved. Maybe somebody did something that somehow helped my situation. Anyway...photos to come in subsequent posts.]

I am sitting in my favorite cafe--Cafe Good. It's one of the only ones near my flat that is not named Dog's Nuts or some French Phrase Although The Menu is in Italian. It is the first sub-freezing day in Seoul this Autumn. So, I am drinking hot chocolate.

Actually, the cafe above is named Nut's Dogs; however, even the teacher who first walked me through my new home was embarrassed to note, as we walked past the coffeehouse, that she believed the name "might mean something about the dog's body." I told her she was right, and asked her if she knew about nuts.

She laughed.

I work with wonderful folks. That is, I know they work hard and know they like to play hard, which I admire. I am invited to every social event and never have to pay. Although I insisted last weekend and gave money to my hosts. The teachers at high schools work Monday through Friday from 7:30 until 5 or 6, and they all work on Saturdays until 1, or later. My contract stipulates no work on Saturdays. I don't go in, but I do feel guilty. On the other hand, I inherited developing-the-curriculum for the First- and Second-grade classes for the remainder of this school year--end of January 2009--and the entire 2009-2010 year.

You might think this wouldn't be such a chore. After all, the students have attended English classes at Samsung High School for over a decade. A catalogue of classwork must exist. Unfortunately, I am the first "Native Speaker" at the school; A curriculum does not exist. I'll admit that it is good to be the first for many reasons, not least of which is that I am gaining incredible ESL teaching experience each new day at Samsung. And it is nice to be the one to develop what I will end up having to teach.

However, many problems have already developed as a result of being first. I use a relic PC that has an English version of Windows XP Pro and Office 2003. This would suffice in most situations. I streamlined the software on it, modified a few settings, ran updates (that took over one week to successfully download and install,) and I added Firefox. The computer is slow at times but works as best as it can. Everybody else at school has a Korean version of XP and uses a word processing software called Hangul Word Processor. They tried to make me comfortable by providing a computer that looked and ran like a PC would in the U.S., but in doing so they effectively made it impossible for me to work with students' powerpoint presentations and essays. Most unfortunate is that I am not connected to the school network and messaging system. I always find out about scheduling changes and meetings too late to prepare.

It is incredibly difficult to get to know my male colleagues. They are all older than me and--I think as do my younger, female colleagues--try to save face by avoiding me at all costs. We believe the men don't want to illustrate their lack of English at work. I have hiked with the men on the weekends and have had wonderful exchanges and experienced sincere camaraderie. Oh well. I will say that outside of the silence I am offered at school and other than my undergraduate life at Metropolitan State College of Denver, I have never experienced the warm friendship that men have offered me in Seoul. The men in Korea are very close. They show emotion. They are not afraid of physical contact. For crying out loud, they bathe one another at the sauna. They are affectionate guys. It makes it easy to be friendly. I have always had crappy relationships with men. So, this problem with the male teachers is a very minor one.

I have had several problems with banking that I have yet to sort out. Nobody is able to help. Who could, anyway? I needed to be informed of a few economic realities before I arrived. That should be the Korean government's concern, not my co-teachers' anxiety. So, I am struggling to pay my U.S. debts on time, if at all. I cannot contact my creditors to figure out a method of paying my bills. And I cannot send money to my U.S. bank because they Korean Won loses close to 50% of its value in exchange right now. Anyway, I need a coworker to go to the bank and translate for me, but we work until 5. The banks close at 4:30. My school never thought about this kind of problems that are likely to occur for any new resident. On the other hand, as a government employee, I received speedy access to my Alien Registration Card, my pension plan, my healthcare account. In addition, my landlord will do absolutely anything to attempt to make me at home--like pay my cable bill. I am poor; so, the gesture is welcome. The hospitality I receive helps alleviate major stress I would usually feel while encountering financial problems I have at the moment. (If the economy were better, none of this would be an issue.)

Of course, my school asked for an experienced English teacher and one with experience with Korean students. I fit the bill with 7 years of teaching experience. It's nice to be wanted. However, the teachers were not prepared for somebody with ideas about ESL education--both practical and ideological--to come to their school and begin taking over one third of the curriculum. (The students have English class three times each week; I see them once a week.) When I enter a classroom, I take charge. I don't need help. I was worried about teaching 40 adolescents, but the kids like me and I have made the adjustment from college Freshman and Sophomores to High School Sophomores and Juniors without too many snags.

The teachers are very protective of the students--especially the boys. I am progressive when it comes to classwork, and I insist that the kind of work attempted and possibly completed both builds upon prior lessons and shows visible and applicable results. For I don't know how long, my students have been playing word bingo and solving crossword puzzles for choco-candies. And from what I can tell of other foreigners teaching in the public schools here, many of them proudly carry on the tradition of treating the children like cutie-pies who need special attention. I shouldn't be so critical: many of the teachers hired to travel to Korea are, in fact, not teachers; or, if they are, they are recent graduates from Undergraduate Institutions and are trying to gain a little hands-on experience. At any rate, there is the notion that if a student does something, then that student is LEARNING BY DOING. Of course, the first thing I learned as a teacher was that is complete bullshit; or, WISHFUL THINKING.

If I try to challenge the students I am told they aren't smart or knowledgeable enough to complete the exercise. The problem is that most of my students will interview with several of Korea's Universities in and around Seoul in less than 24 months. The more prestigious schools, which all students dream of attending, all include some type of English conversation in their interviews. My students will struggle with an interview, yet they have been learning English since Primary School. This frustrates me. They cannot read well and don't even think about writing sentences. In addition, the Academies

(########battery is dying to be continued. I wrote the content below before revising here. I'll finish when I get home. Everything below is unedited.)

I feel the students are being over-protected because they are poor and underprivileged and work so unbelievable hard--15 hours or more a day, 6 days a week, for some every day of the week. I want to hug them, too. But they need to learn to speak English well enough to speak it each day at school and work.

Though I like it here, the cultural differences can be infuriating. I haven't experienced the culture shock that I have seen with other foreigners. My culture clashes can become rather over-significant on any given day because of the amount of work I am asked to accomplish. FOr example, on Monday morning I arrive to school with a new lesson plan for the week and have to make 800 copies of whatever I have for the students. I work from 7:30 until 9am preparing for the week. Then, I teach until 4pm. I teach 5 classes. After seeing 200 students and wearing-in a new lesson plan, I eat dinner and can get home around 8pm. Three days of my five day work week are like this. On the other days, I don't have it easy. In fact, I work later hours. I teach the non-English speaking teachers English on Wednesdays. And I teach 12 students from 5-7pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Mix the cultural misunderstandings with the tremendous workload and you have the potential for anger, not simply frustration. I am happy to say I have had only one argument with a colleague and maybe two verbal disagreements with Koreans in my neighborhood.

I will say: never, never, never get a Korean woman mad. Korean Women have the ability to scream with their entire being: and they like to do it in public. I think I made the colleague who yelled at me (after a ridiculously absurd misunderstanding) initially more angry because the spectacle of her yelling was so intense all I could do was smile in admiration. Such amazing passion; to be honest, my heart only grew fonder. After all, to scream like that at me, she has to care. When I explained to her what was actually happening, she apologized. I apologized as well for causing the problem: I could have done a better job of communicating to her. The entire school heard her yell at me. And nobody spoke about it.

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