Elvis: Pinhead or Patriot?

It's now time for either Kelly Clarkson or Destiny's Child to write a song about me. That's right. I finally feel like somewhat of a grown up. I rode the bus ... alone ... in Korea ... for the first time today. Granted, it was about a 10 ride home from school, but exhilarating, nonetheless. It's amazing what 80 cents a day can do to increase both your independence and overall mood. And from what I hear for 80 cents a day you can also feed children in Africa, but that's a different story. I am now equipped with a fully loaded bus card and a new bicycle, so look out Korea ... I'm coming to a city near you. (well not really near you, if you are reading this back home)

This past weekend was quite delightful. In addition to touring Hwasun's local bus stops with my host-brother, San Che, my host-family took me to their vacation house in Boesong - about an hours drive from Hwasun. Again, I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting when I heard the phrase "vacation house". In the 3 weeks or so that I've been here, I've learned not to try to anticipate or expect any things, as my initial guess is almost always wrong.
Exercise - not taking a run, but instead repeatedly hitting yourself in the stomach after dinner

Vegetarian soup - please don't mind the floating fish heads

Anyways, my entire host family and I traveled to their vacation house last Sunday afternoon after my my oldest host-sister and I attended church, and my youngest host-sister took the TAPS English test.
(TAPS - super difficult English as a second language test only the more advanced high school students take, so as to hopefully be accepted into a legit Korean university. I don't know how well she did ... she said "it was difficult", but she is to studying how Tom Cruise is to Scientology - crazy obsessed - so I'm going to assume she did fairly well.)
So after church and TAPS, we arrived at the vacation house and met some of my host-parent's friends. It was then I was put somewhat on show for the guests: "This is Roren! She is America! Say some stuff in Korean Roren!" It's absolutely adorable, because I can tell my host-family is really proud to have me living with them. Never before have I felt so exotic. The color of my hair can alone causes many Koreans to "Ooooh" and "Ahhhh".
After the awkward introductions were over I was given a tour of the grounds by my host siblings. The father built/designed (I'm not quite sure which) their vacation house ... in the middle of nowhere. It is literally in the middle of no where. We drove for about 45 minutes and then all of a sudden my host-brother's GPS decided we weren't on roads anymore so we existed for a good 15 minutes as a mysterious blue dot on the GPS machine.
The house is really nice - I've got a pretty solid feeling that my host-family is really well off - fully equipped (that sounds like a description for a car, but oh well) and completely livable. When I asked what they usually do at their vacation house my host-sister replied we eat and sing karaoke. Duh, as if I should have known that. Apparently their first house is not conducive to karaoke.
However, the grounds on which the house was built are pretty rough - very hilly and difficult to walk/hike. But my host-family is not the one for hiking ... their version includes driving to the top of a mountain/big hill, getting out of the car for about 15 minutes, looking around, and driving back down. More the karaoke and eating type. We were able to walk around a bit, though, and check out a really sweet swamp, some sewage pipes, and two caged rabbits. (I have pretty much started to accept that in Korea I will never fully be able to anticipate or understand the random grouping of things.)

Yes, a bowl of rice and 2 pieces of toast is a great dinner!
Sure, I would love to see your sewage pipes and baby rabbits!
Of course it is more than acceptable to wear sweat pants and heels to the grocery store!

The afternoon was nice to be around my entire host-family and some of their friends, and allowed for some great bonding time with my oldest host-sister and my host-brother whom I don't get to see very often.
(I have updated my picture site ... which you all should check out (or Facebook) ... because during our weekend excursion my host-sisters decided that it would be a perfect time for a photo shoot. The pictures are absolutely adorable.)

This week at school so far has been the most difficult of all. I'm not exactly sure why ... but all my students are either like zombies from lack of sleep, or like tightly compacted balls of energy - like they downed a barrel of pixie sticks before class. Anyways, this week I have started teaching a month long unit about American music and its transformation throughout the decades. This week - the 1950s and Elvis - a natural choice. Why would I not want to teach the children about such an American beef cake? I have, however, left out the not so glorious stage of his life when he gained about 500 pounds and died on the toilet. The last stage of his life, I guess. For all they know, Elvis was always and has always existed as he did in 1957, as he shook his hips to "Jailhouse Rock".
I introduced this week's lesson last week by telling my students we would be learning about American music. This was filled with great cheers and "Ohmygods!" ... but I have found that when I begin my super important slide show on Elvis and old school rock and roll I am met with a chorus of "But where's Lady Gaga?"
Barf. Never will I teach anything that is in anyway connected to Lady Gaga and her ambiguous "disco stick". But all in all, I think my students are enjoying my lesson about Elvis, especially being able to watch his video for "Jailhouse rock", as they delight in what I call his "sexy dancing". Afterward the students are usually a little confused, stating how un-sexy and silly looking he is. Oh, how the times have changed. (I don't know if I am allowed to say that, as I never lived in the late 1950s, but I'm pretty sure I'm right on this one).

Last week I discovered my co-teachers keep a fair amount of beer in the communal refrigerator. I have yet to ask about the particulars regarding alcohol in the school, but I have heard they are known to bust it out during field trips. But I guess in a school system where students are allowed to have box cutters at their ready, and teachers are able to physically hit any unruly students (Yes, this is true ... and yes, I have witnessed it. And by witnessed, I mean sat awkwardly at my desk with a "OhmygoshIcan'tbelievethisishappeningrightinfrontofme" face) beer is second nature. We will see.

This weekend, my host-father, in an attempt to communicate with me in English, became flustered and stuck his tongue out at me and walked away. Not too sure what this means. My host-mother reassured me that he is "always joker man!" ... so I shouldn't be too offended ... happy, if anything that he would do such a thing. This was, also a couple days after he repeatedly called the house phone from his cell phone, only to watch his wife frantically jump to her feet and run to answer the phone every time it rang. After he called and hung up (about 7 times in a row), my host-mother finally caught on and exclaimed "daddy joker man!". Absolutely hilarious.

I've been eating at the school's cafeteria for lunch the past 3 weeks.
Where else would you expect me to eat during the afternoons?
To be honest, it's been pretty dismal. Today they actually had whole, fried fish - one fish for each individual. The teacher I sat next to today at lunch happened to pick the fish who's mouth was in a perfect "O", staring directly at me. It was as if he was in the middle of singing opera or something before he got caught. Anyways, I each day the cafeteria staff graciously gives me a salad bowl they prepare ... full of fresh veggies. Delicious. They also give me a bowl of mayonnaise to do God knows what with. I've come to find that mayonnaise is an acceptable side dish to almost anything. When I don't eat my entire bowl of mayonnaise (which is everyday) I give it to my fellow teachers and they dip everything in it. Everything. One teacher coated an entire orange in the stuff and happily popped it into her mouth.
In a country so concerned with diet, exercise, and appearing "healthy" ... you think they would have gotten the mayo memo ...

This weekend I discovered that my host-family was once a “model” family for an issue of Korea’s "Parents" magazine. At the lunch table one afternoon I asked my host-mom what her hobbies were (I just learned how to say “hobby” in Korean … the chapters of my textbook seem to guide my conversations for the week … go figure) and she excitedly showed me many articles that she had written for the local Hwasun newspaper. I have absolutely no idea what they were about, as they were in Korean, duh, but she was super proud of them and kept shaking them in my face. It was precious. She then found a copy of a magazine article from the early 2000s where she and her family posed for pictures in "Parents" magazine. I only wish I was able to snag some of those pictures and show them with the world (outside of Hwasun that is).
Think American Ralph Lauren meets Asia meets kittens and puppy dogs. They were all very well dressed with sweater vests and everything. One picture was of my entire host-family conveniently lounging by a large shade tree in a gorgeous park listening as my youngest host-sister played a clarinet. Priceless.
“Oh wow! Look where we’ve found ourselves ... and we are all dressed so well! Eun Su ... please play us some beautiful clarinet music as we awkwardly sit in poses that best accentuate our spiffy clothes!”
I’m not sure how regular of an occurrence family clarinet concerts are in Korea, but I’m going to take a guess and figure not that often. Regardless, my host-mom was absolutely thrilled to show me these pictures, as my host-siblings looked on in embarrassment.

I have lost my favorite pair of socks. Well, actually not lost … I know exactly where they are, I just can’t get to them. So I did my laundry (all by myself, like a grown up) last week and hung all my clothes out to dry on the communal drying rack. I was later searching for my favorite pair of socks (pink and purple argyle ones – pretty girly), but could find them no where. One place I forgot to look – my host-brother’s feet. For the past couple days he has been walking around the house in my pink and purple socks, as manly as ever. This again, illustrates the complexity of gender roles in Korea. While it is generally understood that men are somewhat superior and hold a ton more societal power (come on, Korea) a man is not given a second look when he wears girly socks, Capri pants, or is the owner of many bright pink Hello Kitty items (like one of my fellow male teachers is here at Hwasun High School).
A plan is now in the works to steal back my socks … I’m thinking of trying to lure my host-brother in with a Bratz doll or something to distract him, then snatch them back.

As I mentioned earlier, my youngest host-sister just took the TAPS English exam this past weekend, and she is now currently studying and preparing for meeting with a college recruiter/professor/I don’t know, but some important person who is associated with Keist University – a super impressive science university that is taught solely in English. My host-sister has really high hopes of being admitted there after she graduates high school (in about 1.5 years). Anyways, she is planning to meet with the Keist representative soon and has been preparing by studying English like it’s her job, running for school president (pretty legit, I know), and “exercising” so as to appear trim and healthy. (It should be noted that she constantly stresses how much she needs to “exercise and be thin” – and this has resulted in her eating a perfectly normal amount of nutritious food and then hitting herself in the stomach to make the food avoid going there) She remains pencil thin, but is super concerned about her appearance. In Korea, even more so than in America, appearance is pretty much everything. If you aren’t thin or healthy, you are generally lumped into the category of “nice, but a fatty”. In a country where high school students sacrifice so much of their life and personal freedom to study and pass multiple exams so as to advance to a solid university, appearance and weight is (pardon the pun … actually, don’t pardon it, it’s pretty valid) “given a lot of weight”.
You get a perfect score on every test, can speak English better than former President Bush (well, that’s not too difficult) and are the smartest and most dedicated Korean high school student alive … well you are still looked at much, much differently if you ate that Tootsie Roll yesterday afternoon. Korea is a deeply superficial society.

In addition to trying to be very thin and imply intelligence, many Koreans are fascinated with looking "Western". One of my fellow teachers, with whom I share space with in the teacher's lounge approached me a few days ago and simply asked me:
"How American do I look?"
My answer: "Um ... not at all?" (hoping this is what he was looking for)
My co-teacher found this absolutely hilarious and then explained to me that this particular teacher (we will call him "Charles" only because he looks somewhat like the Asian version of Scott Baio. Just as I thought Scott Baio couldn't get anymore handsome ...) desperately tries to convince people that his father was American so he is then 1/2 Western.
Western in Korea. So hot right now.

Today I was at the Gwangju library and saw the most fabulous Engrish t-shirt.
(I went to a meeting/open house to learn more about the "American Corner" - yes, that's really what they call it, even though it's more like the "American room" - a space dedicated to all things American. Pretty glorious - I ate some hotdogs and fired a few rounds of my handgun.
I am actually going to start volunteering there about 2 or 3 times a month - reading books to children and putting on sock puppet plays most likely.
Anyways ... as I was walking out, I spotted a girl with a shirt that read:

"I asked fate for Dong"

I'm not really sure what she meant by that, I can only hope that fate granted her wishes.
"Sure. Here's your Dong."