Friday, December 16, 2011
Back from the abyss
OH MY GOD. It has been a disgustingly long time since I have written.
I cannot begin to unravel the memories and experiences that I have had in the past 2 and a half months, it would be unlike pulling a string of yarn from a sweater until the knitting is left on a floor as a grim reminder of it's former shapely form. My memories of the past two months have woven themselves into a comfortable, thought not overly attractive sweater, and I just want to fold the sweater up and put it on a high shelf, just out of reach. (Too much sweater talk? I agree)
But I do want to share some highlights...there have been so many times that I had a great post idea but no time to write it, so here is a list in a somewhat chronological order:
1. so much work! ahhh
2. I went to a beach, yay! But it rained- boo.
3. More work, wow, who would have thought?
4. London!!!
5. Gah, back to work.
6. Going to observe training, my work in action, kind of exciting...sad to see the street boys of Nakuru
7. Back at the office, pressure, stress!
8. Brittney is back, lets go on a tour of Kenya!! So much fun.
9. Olenka gets a weave. Exotic.
10. Back from training, in the office, hurry hurry finish!
11. Today- everything is done...amazing.
I got to see the beautiful side of Kenya. It is a green wonderland. The towns look a lot alike. The matatus were pretty nice, though our last leg was a bit of a hassle.
It does not, by any means feel like Christmas. I think in recent years the holiday has lost some meaning for me, but I do miss friends and family. We had a lovely party at my bosses house that included White Elephant gifts, I gave away leftover parts of my weave and got a stack of africa books on top of a pretty woven basket. I stuffed myself on cookies and brownies and a lot of wine.
In other breaking news---Training is over, the most stressful few months have come to an end, new school managers will be leading their own academies in January. Unreal. After all the effort, the pressure, stress and deadlines I am exhausted and sleepy and cannot wait to spend some time basking in the sun tomorrow.
Peace and love
Olenka
Friday, September 30, 2011
My life right now.
Well, as I begin writing it is 9:20 pm on a Friday.
I just worked from home for at least 12 hours straight. I even ate brreakfast and lunch at my desk like a good woker bee.
I finished 6 hour long powerpoint presentations as well as an assessment and answer key.
I feel good about my progress today.
I have also allowed myself two rather full glasses of wine. I made myself a delicious and somewhat healthy dinner and I have eaten two heaping helpings.
I also feel a little bit like I did the first year of TFA. Somewhat lost in a cloud of doubt about my ability to actually do this. I know what I am good at, taking notes- studying said notes and regurgitating them on paper.
Thats why I loved college. It was easy. Nothing was actually applied to the real world. It is pretty scary when the CEO of the company you work for turns to you in a meeting and asks you a question and whatever you answer will change the policy. Thats a lot of power I never realized how much weight a word could have. I like the idea of being able to change the world but at 24 I dont know if I have enough knowledge/experience for a mere utterance of mine to do much good, much less change policy, schedules, training modules and the like.
This job that I currently hold is taking me back to the years that I would rather soon forget. A time of internal turmoil, disspointment and a feeling like I want not good. NOT that I wasn't the best at something, but that I was not even GOOD at something. I wish to feel the same level of confidence in my abilites when I was first stepping into the Fulbright program. I was too cocky but at least I knew that wherever they put me and whatever they had me teach I could do, and do it well. I have gone from swimming laps in Korea to barely keeping myself from drowning in Kenya.
After almost 2 months of being in hereI feel like I understand....it. I have met some really cool people at my workplace and they stop by to say hello to me each day, even though I rarely return the favor. I have found the people here to have a lot of flavor, a lot of zest and spark and I really like my Kenyan co-workers though I really wonder why they try to befriend a deer in the headlights girl who is furiously typing away at her computer trying to meet impossibly set deadlines.
As the rush of deadlines comes and goes and I do not die from the long night or work and the stress of constant changes to the forms that I attempt to make sense out of I am comforted by a few things. First, just like with the TFA nightmare I know that this too shall pass. One day I will look back and think- WHY oh WHY did I think making 12 powerpoints to train new school managers on forms that change as often as my underware (daily, thank you very much) in a span of 2 days was a big deal. Second, I will realize that the impact I made over the course of my stay was greater than the sacrifice of staying in a few weekends and having to tell my boyfriend that he should not come up to see me on the weekend.
OH yeah, amazing as it is, I actually am managing to keep a somewhat decent relationship in the works as well. He is british, a captain in the army and 6 ft 2in tall. I have plans to visit him in 4 short weeks and that is the light at the end of my deadlines tunnel.
IN short- Life is harder than it was before, but not the hardest it has ever been.
I am grateful for every second.
Sincerely
Olenka
Monday, August 29, 2011
3 weeks down, 43 to go!
Warp speed.
This is the only way to describe the pace at which Kenya is passing me by.
Today was the first day working in the new office. The place is much better than our original one and I bet it is just going to get better as they continue to make it look less like a hundred desks bunched together and more like a respectable business establishment. But there is something to be said about sitting across from your boss. It certainly makes me less likely to slack off and I can see how hard she works and how much she knows. I want to be her when I grow up. It's not like I would want to slack off either. There are so many things to do each day, so many meetings to attend and so many documents, powerpoints and videos to make but I feel like there is something to be said about the rush (sense of urgency- thanks TFA) that the company is driven by. Take for example our move. We started packing up exactly at 3pm on Friday and though this morning the place was far from perfect I had my laptop and was ready to work at 8 am. We even managed to squeeze in a pump-up/thank you session with our CEO who showed us how much the company has grown since its humble beginnings in a tourist office backroom.Even with the delicious Samosas that were part of our celebratory meal we were not off task for more than 30 minutes. Then, it was back to work, meetings, documents and improvements. A lovely thing to celebrate.
Although it may seem that most of my waking hours are spent trying to wrap my head around the School Manager training I do get to have a little rest and relaxation. Each weekend has been packed with delightful experiences. This Saturday I went to the Elephant Orphanage. This is a place where baby elephants all across Kenya are taken after being rescued and then they stay there for a number of years, always being attended to by their human foster dads that even sleep with them each night. After 3 or so years the elephants are taken to an area on the national reserve and a 5 year process of getting adopted by one of the elephant groups begins. It was very cute to see the elephants being fed with giant baby bottles and downing liters of formula in 18 seconds flat. The older set of elephants were quite playful and a little feisty. Though the highlight of the time was definitely when a 3 year old little kid got away from his parents and ran under the ropes to try and touch one of the elephants. The dad caught him just in time! One baby elephants got too friendly and passed the ropes the other way, playfully headbutting a few in the crowd.
Next, we went off to the St. Paul's Children's home where I played, chatted and chilled with some of the my favorite kids. One in particular put it upon himself to teach me some Kiswahili. Another great part to the day was when I bonded with a boy who had been raised by baboons for the first 4 years of his life. I was braiding yarn with some of the girls to make bracelets and he came over to give me the highly sought after- yet illusive- high five. Then, he sat down and engaged me by pulling on the yarn, SO I attempted, with the help of some other kids translating in swahili to teach him how to braid. It wasn't the most successful venture but it kept him occupied for at least 30 minutes and he was grinning at the tricky string and he tried to follow my instructions. Basically it was a huge success.
That night we went out. And it was awesome. I regained my awesome status by staying out till the wee hours of the morning and then getting up to go see some giraffes. That place was the first one that seemed a little too touristy for me because it was a tiny place and you had to pay 800 shillings (like $8.50) to pet some giraffes. It was quite serene and nice. I did have the pleasure of hugging the head of a giant giraffe but I was ready to go after about 7 minutes in the place, so though both of my animal adventures were a good time, neither was so amazing that I will be running back anytime soon.
I also finally got my room together a little bit more and read the instructions on my pepper spray. On Friday we found out that two people who were carpooling from work were held up at gunpoint on their way home. Luckily no one was hurt but it did remind me (especially since it was the same road I take home every day) that bad things can happen to good and careful people and even thought I have just started to feel more comfortable with my commute to work and walking around. It is sad how one moment you can feel very safe and in an instant information can make you feel uncomfortable and mistrusting of others. Really sad actually. I was walking home one day carrying 3 bags of groceries and obviously struggling after a 30 minute hike home. One man came up and offered to help me carry them and automatically I gave him a very blank stare and asked him to leave me alone. I was not happy with my behavior and decided that next time something like that happened I would first use a more polite way to avert unwanted attention but the fact that in a few short weeks I had become so hardened to approaches from strangers (who in Korea brought nothing but amusement when they attempted interactions). I hate to leave this post on this unpleasant note but I just want to say that I am fine and have a relatively worry free life and in a weird sense I appreciate the reminders that even though the illusion of safety can sometimes appear because of an array of positive interactions with locals it is still a dangerous place and it has to be treated as such.
That being said, Wednesday is a holiday and a Kenyan from my work is taking me to the Ngong hills where one must hire a guide with a gun for safety. Stay tuned...this is going to be good!
This is the only way to describe the pace at which Kenya is passing me by.
Today was the first day working in the new office. The place is much better than our original one and I bet it is just going to get better as they continue to make it look less like a hundred desks bunched together and more like a respectable business establishment. But there is something to be said about sitting across from your boss. It certainly makes me less likely to slack off and I can see how hard she works and how much she knows. I want to be her when I grow up. It's not like I would want to slack off either. There are so many things to do each day, so many meetings to attend and so many documents, powerpoints and videos to make but I feel like there is something to be said about the rush (sense of urgency- thanks TFA) that the company is driven by. Take for example our move. We started packing up exactly at 3pm on Friday and though this morning the place was far from perfect I had my laptop and was ready to work at 8 am. We even managed to squeeze in a pump-up/thank you session with our CEO who showed us how much the company has grown since its humble beginnings in a tourist office backroom.Even with the delicious Samosas that were part of our celebratory meal we were not off task for more than 30 minutes. Then, it was back to work, meetings, documents and improvements. A lovely thing to celebrate.
Although it may seem that most of my waking hours are spent trying to wrap my head around the School Manager training I do get to have a little rest and relaxation. Each weekend has been packed with delightful experiences. This Saturday I went to the Elephant Orphanage. This is a place where baby elephants all across Kenya are taken after being rescued and then they stay there for a number of years, always being attended to by their human foster dads that even sleep with them each night. After 3 or so years the elephants are taken to an area on the national reserve and a 5 year process of getting adopted by one of the elephant groups begins. It was very cute to see the elephants being fed with giant baby bottles and downing liters of formula in 18 seconds flat. The older set of elephants were quite playful and a little feisty. Though the highlight of the time was definitely when a 3 year old little kid got away from his parents and ran under the ropes to try and touch one of the elephants. The dad caught him just in time! One baby elephants got too friendly and passed the ropes the other way, playfully headbutting a few in the crowd.
Next, we went off to the St. Paul's Children's home where I played, chatted and chilled with some of the my favorite kids. One in particular put it upon himself to teach me some Kiswahili. Another great part to the day was when I bonded with a boy who had been raised by baboons for the first 4 years of his life. I was braiding yarn with some of the girls to make bracelets and he came over to give me the highly sought after- yet illusive- high five. Then, he sat down and engaged me by pulling on the yarn, SO I attempted, with the help of some other kids translating in swahili to teach him how to braid. It wasn't the most successful venture but it kept him occupied for at least 30 minutes and he was grinning at the tricky string and he tried to follow my instructions. Basically it was a huge success.
That night we went out. And it was awesome. I regained my awesome status by staying out till the wee hours of the morning and then getting up to go see some giraffes. That place was the first one that seemed a little too touristy for me because it was a tiny place and you had to pay 800 shillings (like $8.50) to pet some giraffes. It was quite serene and nice. I did have the pleasure of hugging the head of a giant giraffe but I was ready to go after about 7 minutes in the place, so though both of my animal adventures were a good time, neither was so amazing that I will be running back anytime soon.
I also finally got my room together a little bit more and read the instructions on my pepper spray. On Friday we found out that two people who were carpooling from work were held up at gunpoint on their way home. Luckily no one was hurt but it did remind me (especially since it was the same road I take home every day) that bad things can happen to good and careful people and even thought I have just started to feel more comfortable with my commute to work and walking around. It is sad how one moment you can feel very safe and in an instant information can make you feel uncomfortable and mistrusting of others. Really sad actually. I was walking home one day carrying 3 bags of groceries and obviously struggling after a 30 minute hike home. One man came up and offered to help me carry them and automatically I gave him a very blank stare and asked him to leave me alone. I was not happy with my behavior and decided that next time something like that happened I would first use a more polite way to avert unwanted attention but the fact that in a few short weeks I had become so hardened to approaches from strangers (who in Korea brought nothing but amusement when they attempted interactions). I hate to leave this post on this unpleasant note but I just want to say that I am fine and have a relatively worry free life and in a weird sense I appreciate the reminders that even though the illusion of safety can sometimes appear because of an array of positive interactions with locals it is still a dangerous place and it has to be treated as such.
That being said, Wednesday is a holiday and a Kenyan from my work is taking me to the Ngong hills where one must hire a guide with a gun for safety. Stay tuned...this is going to be good!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I havent died, I've just gone off to AFRICA.
I feel like it has been ages since I have had the time to write anything. I am super busy here and it feels like I am always running out of time.
It may be that I spend the last year vacationing in Korea that I feel a certain surprise that my job now requires me to wake up at 5:30 in the morning, walk to town in darkness and get on a matatu by 6:30, arrive by 7 and bold out the door the second the clock strikes 4pm so I can get home around 5 pm. I realize that most people do this anyway but Korea really threw off my work ethic because life was just so darn easy there!
Next, fun things:
1. I moved into a house. It is a pretty sweet getup. I live with an expat from the UK and his 21 year old daughter. The place is across the street from the Ethiopian Embassy and the American U.N. memebers are also housed here. We also have a pool. It's ultra safe and we even have guard dogs patrolling at night. I have to fight the urge to pet them. The dogs, not the people from the UK silly!
2. Last weekend was badass. I hung out with orphans on a way cool children's day on Satuday and drove around a stunningly beautiful area near the game park reserve on the back of a motorcycle. Some antelopes/impalas/deerlike things ran across our path and I had a little bit of an "out of africa" moment.
3. I also went to this insane glass factory. The fact that this place exists in the middle of a beautiful desert and you have to cross an indiana jones style hanging bridge is enough to blow your mind. But let me give you another hit of awesome- the prices for slightly misshapen objects are dirt cheap and I got to see them make a wine glass from scratch then bought a few of it's brothers and sisters for pennies (about 100 pennies each!)wow! That day was awesome.
4. My job. Oh right, I gotta make some money while I am here and I think I have finally started to get into a groove here. The office is run so well and I am inspired by the hard work that the people around me put in. They are awesome and I want to be them when I grow up. I am talking mostly about my HOD who is incredible and I am learning so much from merely being in her presence.
5. The vegetables and fruit here are super cheap and taste amazing. WIN. Also, I found tofu. If only I can get a gym membership to a place close to here I am going to be a very happy camper for the duration of my stay.
peace out yo!
asante sana for reading!
It may be that I spend the last year vacationing in Korea that I feel a certain surprise that my job now requires me to wake up at 5:30 in the morning, walk to town in darkness and get on a matatu by 6:30, arrive by 7 and bold out the door the second the clock strikes 4pm so I can get home around 5 pm. I realize that most people do this anyway but Korea really threw off my work ethic because life was just so darn easy there!
Next, fun things:
1. I moved into a house. It is a pretty sweet getup. I live with an expat from the UK and his 21 year old daughter. The place is across the street from the Ethiopian Embassy and the American U.N. memebers are also housed here. We also have a pool. It's ultra safe and we even have guard dogs patrolling at night. I have to fight the urge to pet them. The dogs, not the people from the UK silly!
2. Last weekend was badass. I hung out with orphans on a way cool children's day on Satuday and drove around a stunningly beautiful area near the game park reserve on the back of a motorcycle. Some antelopes/impalas/deerlike things ran across our path and I had a little bit of an "out of africa" moment.
3. I also went to this insane glass factory. The fact that this place exists in the middle of a beautiful desert and you have to cross an indiana jones style hanging bridge is enough to blow your mind. But let me give you another hit of awesome- the prices for slightly misshapen objects are dirt cheap and I got to see them make a wine glass from scratch then bought a few of it's brothers and sisters for pennies (about 100 pennies each!)wow! That day was awesome.
4. My job. Oh right, I gotta make some money while I am here and I think I have finally started to get into a groove here. The office is run so well and I am inspired by the hard work that the people around me put in. They are awesome and I want to be them when I grow up. I am talking mostly about my HOD who is incredible and I am learning so much from merely being in her presence.
5. The vegetables and fruit here are super cheap and taste amazing. WIN. Also, I found tofu. If only I can get a gym membership to a place close to here I am going to be a very happy camper for the duration of my stay.
peace out yo!
asante sana for reading!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Kenya- Beautiful on the Inside
So
I have been here for almost a week and I feel like I can make a fair judgment of my current home city of Nairobi. I'll be frank. When I was driven to my hotel from the airport I was thinking to myself- what the f*** have I gotten myself into?
I just gave up a nice cozy life in Korea to come to this industry laden dust land with not a tree in sight. There were people, hundreds of people, migrating next to the road, a sight that was quite shocking because as opposed to the 4 ft ajumas that lined the streets of Daegu most of these people were 6ft tall and able bodied men. The ditches next to the road look like they could swallow you whole if you misplace your footing and the cow manure is a nice touch of texture and smell that will forever plague your shoe.
The hotel though was nice, my room has a fully functioning bathroom with hot water and I have always dreamed of having a mosquito net hanging over my bed ever since I spotted some many years back at IKEA so here’s to childhood wishes coming true.
Next, when I arose at the ungodly hour of 4 am thanks to jetlag I was able to indulge myself in a few hours of Kindle before heading to breakfast at 6 am where I dined on boiled eggs and toast with a few of my colleagues. I did not expect that the next 20 minutes would entail crossing the highway by running before oncoming traffic got to us, flagging down a van crammed with strangers that was going in our direction, jumping in and then paying a man a few shillings. Then after about 10 minutes on the matatu I was to be dropped off once again on the side of the road and run for my life before a semi made me into a pancake across 6 lanes of highway. Both in theory and in practice this approach of getting to work is ridiculous.
Though, I have to say now that I have ridden the matatu everyday for a week I come to realize that the other passengers are also hard working citizens on their way to work and that the matatus have certain routes that they take that actually makes them somewhat predictable.
I have also found that no matter how grungy, dilapidated and insanely dusty the outside of something is, the inside is undoubtedly going to exceed your expectation on cleanliness, atmosphere and service. This is why I think of Kenya as a book that you cannot judge by the cover. You cannot even judge it by the smell, because there is a certain oily, musky, dusty essence to most things and people here. You can only judge by the insides. The insides of matatus are clean compared to the dented and chipped paint exterior that they sport. The insides of mall and restaurants are right up there with an American Starbucks. The most important insides though, as those of the people that I have met in Kenya. There is something of a parental nature that I have felt from the people who I interact with. Anyone from the workers at my job to the man who guards my hotel and keeps me safe at night is welcoming and always ready for a conversation. Not so much a conversation as an exchange of stories. Also to be noted is that the tones most people speak with are the same as those used when telling a lullaby. So as this story of Kenya unfolds, told by the mother tongues of the people who I interact with and kindly translated for my inept ears I come to think of Kenya as a book that needs to be read for the quality and beauty of the content and not so much the illustrations on the cover.
I have been here for almost a week and I feel like I can make a fair judgment of my current home city of Nairobi. I'll be frank. When I was driven to my hotel from the airport I was thinking to myself- what the f*** have I gotten myself into?
I just gave up a nice cozy life in Korea to come to this industry laden dust land with not a tree in sight. There were people, hundreds of people, migrating next to the road, a sight that was quite shocking because as opposed to the 4 ft ajumas that lined the streets of Daegu most of these people were 6ft tall and able bodied men. The ditches next to the road look like they could swallow you whole if you misplace your footing and the cow manure is a nice touch of texture and smell that will forever plague your shoe.
The hotel though was nice, my room has a fully functioning bathroom with hot water and I have always dreamed of having a mosquito net hanging over my bed ever since I spotted some many years back at IKEA so here’s to childhood wishes coming true.
Next, when I arose at the ungodly hour of 4 am thanks to jetlag I was able to indulge myself in a few hours of Kindle before heading to breakfast at 6 am where I dined on boiled eggs and toast with a few of my colleagues. I did not expect that the next 20 minutes would entail crossing the highway by running before oncoming traffic got to us, flagging down a van crammed with strangers that was going in our direction, jumping in and then paying a man a few shillings. Then after about 10 minutes on the matatu I was to be dropped off once again on the side of the road and run for my life before a semi made me into a pancake across 6 lanes of highway. Both in theory and in practice this approach of getting to work is ridiculous.
Though, I have to say now that I have ridden the matatu everyday for a week I come to realize that the other passengers are also hard working citizens on their way to work and that the matatus have certain routes that they take that actually makes them somewhat predictable.
I have also found that no matter how grungy, dilapidated and insanely dusty the outside of something is, the inside is undoubtedly going to exceed your expectation on cleanliness, atmosphere and service. This is why I think of Kenya as a book that you cannot judge by the cover. You cannot even judge it by the smell, because there is a certain oily, musky, dusty essence to most things and people here. You can only judge by the insides. The insides of matatus are clean compared to the dented and chipped paint exterior that they sport. The insides of mall and restaurants are right up there with an American Starbucks. The most important insides though, as those of the people that I have met in Kenya. There is something of a parental nature that I have felt from the people who I interact with. Anyone from the workers at my job to the man who guards my hotel and keeps me safe at night is welcoming and always ready for a conversation. Not so much a conversation as an exchange of stories. Also to be noted is that the tones most people speak with are the same as those used when telling a lullaby. So as this story of Kenya unfolds, told by the mother tongues of the people who I interact with and kindly translated for my inept ears I come to think of Kenya as a book that needs to be read for the quality and beauty of the content and not so much the illustrations on the cover.
Friday, August 5, 2011
From America with Love
So the past few weeks have been a blur. Camp Fulbright came and went and I realized that I was not only teaching students but I was PROBABLY interacting with future CEOs, doctors, policy makers and possibly even actors. The quality of character, drive and cuteness that these kids possessed was the icing on the very delicious cake that was my year in Korea. I am so happy to look back on the memories of the camp and relish in the amazing moments that I shared with my students.
I knew that my stay in the states would be rushed and I knew I would have to work really hard to fit in everyone that I needed/wanted to see, but somehow, I made it happen. I had dates every day of the week to catch up with friends over food that had been inaccessible to me for the past year. If not inaccessible then just not having the right flavors or textures and I was so so SO happy to dunk some thick fries into a tub of thick ranch. Seeing my family was lovely and I realized how long it had been since we were a unit of 4. One of the best parts about coming home was the home itself. Projects on the house that my dad has just been starting when I left had come to completion and I had forgotten how decorated my house is with the artwork that my brother and I have created over the years. We are certainly not artists but our house is clad in a nice array of paintings, photos and trinkets that we have either made or collected over the years. Walking into my house is a visual sensation that jars memories and pours me over with a feeling of nostalgia. We sat at the dinner table the night I came home and over wine and delicious salmon chatted about life as if a year had not passed since our previous meal together. Afterward, I passed out presents and was able to make everyone happy with my gifts, I think even my impossible to shop for brother was amused by the trinkets that he got. It was a great homecoming indeed, starting with beautiful white roses and signs in Korean that I could not decipher and ending with a walk around the neighborhood with my dog.
The next few days were spent visiting with friends. I loved being able to catch up on life and was almost surprised at how effortlessly the conversations flowed given that some people I had not had much contact with for the past year. That just goes to show you how great my friends really are since the passage of time had no way of undermining the quality of our relationship. I had brought trinkets from Korea, either misspelled English or simply cutesy key chains that never failed to amuse. I also had several phone dates with people when our schedules could not mix. The last day was the hardest goodbye because my flight was less than 18 hours away and I was seeing my great friends for the first and final time. This quick trip to the states was much needed and it feels a little bit like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HrhsZ2kTqo
Another sleepless night due to jetlag and in 6 hours I will be on my way to my 3rd continent in 5 days.
peace and love
I knew that my stay in the states would be rushed and I knew I would have to work really hard to fit in everyone that I needed/wanted to see, but somehow, I made it happen. I had dates every day of the week to catch up with friends over food that had been inaccessible to me for the past year. If not inaccessible then just not having the right flavors or textures and I was so so SO happy to dunk some thick fries into a tub of thick ranch. Seeing my family was lovely and I realized how long it had been since we were a unit of 4. One of the best parts about coming home was the home itself. Projects on the house that my dad has just been starting when I left had come to completion and I had forgotten how decorated my house is with the artwork that my brother and I have created over the years. We are certainly not artists but our house is clad in a nice array of paintings, photos and trinkets that we have either made or collected over the years. Walking into my house is a visual sensation that jars memories and pours me over with a feeling of nostalgia. We sat at the dinner table the night I came home and over wine and delicious salmon chatted about life as if a year had not passed since our previous meal together. Afterward, I passed out presents and was able to make everyone happy with my gifts, I think even my impossible to shop for brother was amused by the trinkets that he got. It was a great homecoming indeed, starting with beautiful white roses and signs in Korean that I could not decipher and ending with a walk around the neighborhood with my dog.
The next few days were spent visiting with friends. I loved being able to catch up on life and was almost surprised at how effortlessly the conversations flowed given that some people I had not had much contact with for the past year. That just goes to show you how great my friends really are since the passage of time had no way of undermining the quality of our relationship. I had brought trinkets from Korea, either misspelled English or simply cutesy key chains that never failed to amuse. I also had several phone dates with people when our schedules could not mix. The last day was the hardest goodbye because my flight was less than 18 hours away and I was seeing my great friends for the first and final time. This quick trip to the states was much needed and it feels a little bit like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HrhsZ2kTqo
Another sleepless night due to jetlag and in 6 hours I will be on my way to my 3rd continent in 5 days.
peace and love
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Ravioli: My new favorite Breakfast
WELL, I wouldn't say FAVORITE. I wouldn't say healthy, or usual or rational or at all adivsed by any nutritionist. BUT, it is what I eat. I guess I set myself up for it too. When I moved into my second homestay I was able to make more choices about what I consumed. They asked for a list of foods ahead of time and since I was a vegetarian they were really curious to learn about it. We made an initial trip to Costco and I was told to go crazy and pack the cart with everything that I would eat. Ravioli made it into the cart! And it has made it onto my plate ever since. I only made one more trip with my host family to the magical land where foreign food is somewhat accessible and since I picked out Ravioli the second time as well it pretty much solidified it as a staple food in my Korean diet.
At first, I cooked the ravioli because my host mom was unfamiliar with how to make it but she watched and took diligent notes and was soon whipping them out like a pro. It tastes really good and so I enthusiastically praised her cooking and how delicious they turned out. THAT is probably how the ravioli is endind up on my breakfast plate. First, she cooked it every night of the week and I was eating at home...resulting in me going out more frequently because even though I do love the taste of ravioli, I do not love it every day of the week. Then, it seems like there was a lot of ravioli and only a few times that I was available to eat it for dinner...so it moved on to being an afterschool snack. THEN, the day finally came when it appeared at the breakfast table. Luckily, that is also the time that the giant bag from costco was exhausted and now I was back to a variety of food for breakfast (and dinner).
The phenomenon of my dear host mother giving the in access what I say that I like is also evident in her keeping a stock of roasted almonds on hand! (which is great because I can eat them whenever I want) and the also a pancake like sweet treat that has melted sugar and crushed peanuts on the inside (tastes AWESOME). I had one for snack, praised it, and then eat it for two consecutive days for afterschool snack and breakfast. :) The thing about living with a host family is that even though there are certain things that get to be pretty comfortable (seeing host family memebers in their underwear) telling them you would like to eat something else is not on the table. (get it?) So for the next 4 days (because I know we have a fresh batch of ravioli) I am undoing another button on my pants and consuming ravioli as breakfast, snack and possibly even dinner.
At first, I cooked the ravioli because my host mom was unfamiliar with how to make it but she watched and took diligent notes and was soon whipping them out like a pro. It tastes really good and so I enthusiastically praised her cooking and how delicious they turned out. THAT is probably how the ravioli is endind up on my breakfast plate. First, she cooked it every night of the week and I was eating at home...resulting in me going out more frequently because even though I do love the taste of ravioli, I do not love it every day of the week. Then, it seems like there was a lot of ravioli and only a few times that I was available to eat it for dinner...so it moved on to being an afterschool snack. THEN, the day finally came when it appeared at the breakfast table. Luckily, that is also the time that the giant bag from costco was exhausted and now I was back to a variety of food for breakfast (and dinner).
The phenomenon of my dear host mother giving the in access what I say that I like is also evident in her keeping a stock of roasted almonds on hand! (which is great because I can eat them whenever I want) and the also a pancake like sweet treat that has melted sugar and crushed peanuts on the inside (tastes AWESOME). I had one for snack, praised it, and then eat it for two consecutive days for afterschool snack and breakfast. :) The thing about living with a host family is that even though there are certain things that get to be pretty comfortable (seeing host family memebers in their underwear) telling them you would like to eat something else is not on the table. (get it?) So for the next 4 days (because I know we have a fresh batch of ravioli) I am undoing another button on my pants and consuming ravioli as breakfast, snack and possibly even dinner.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Model Behavior in EDEN
It was a friend’s last night in Korea so we headed off to Seoul on the long 4 hour train and arrived looking for some adventure.
Well, we went to the Ritz and got to experience something different. MODELS. Yes, the club that cost 30,000 to get into stayed true to it’s pricy form. It was packed with great looking Koreans and international models.
First we spotted a girl dancing wildly near a mirror and frowned upon her wayward ways. She did not have a drink in hand, but she was certainly getting a buzz from somewhere. Then, the real fun began, we made some friends, got shots poured into our mouth on the dance floor and were basically having a great time rocking out. Here is the thing, I enjoy a good time at club getting my groove on and I surround myself with people who also know how to balance having a good time while also staying in control. This night I was (for some reason) surprised to learn that not everyone can strike this balance and this is the story of one of the girls…
She was found by a Brazillian model and I guess found is not quite the right word for it, because all the Brazillian model saw was a hand on the floor peaking out from one of the bathroom stalls. I was standing in line for the bathroom behind the Brazillian model and she pointed out the hand to me and Security was in the girls bathroom immediately. They tried knocking on the door with no avail. Then the two guards pried the door open to reveal a passed out model in an ocean of her own puke that had saturated her dress and was drying crisply on her long curly hair. They tried to wake her and were looking around at the now large posse of models who were starring down at her to figure out which groups of friends she belonged to. However, sadly, no one would claim her. They all mumbled- not from my agency, or I’ve never seen her, she must be new and the most heartwrenching one- maybe she is 15. WHAT? The story continues…she had passed out while on the toilet and the men looked around for some girl to pull up her underwear. Again, none of the models offered to help and my friend was left to do the necessary yet unpleasant duty to making this passed out girl decent…while trying to hoover above the puked on floor that she was still sprawled out in. (I was in the bathroom while this took place) The next thing was even more disturbing…the security guards, still hesitant to touch her asked someone to check her pulse!!! WHAT THE F! This poor girl, with clearly no good friends, was on something that made her pass out mid-toilet break and now I was responsible for seeing if she was still alive???? Well, ok. So I checked her pulse by first lifting the heavy veil that was created from the puke and hair combo and feeling on her neck. There was indeed a pulse and so I gave the security guards the all OK! sign. Now with her not exposing genitalia and confirmed alive status the security guards felt it ok to pick her up and carry her out, as they did I questioned them with “hospital?” because it looked like she may need a little medical intervention. They did not reply and just carried her out. The restroom was abuzz for a few minutes after she left, but quickly my conversation with the models turned to whether or not I was a model (oh ladies, please! Do you see me passing out in toilets?) and then when that idea was shot down they asked me if I was an extra for the Olympics? (what the fuck were they smoking…I mean…thanks?) I wish the story ended there and I could assume happily that the girl got the help that she needed. Unfortunately this is not so, as I was leaving the club at 5 am I saw a lump on a couch near the entrance to the club near the coat rack…it was the same girl, still passed out, as if the club owners just expected whoever was responsible for her to grab her as they got their checked purses from the club lockers. Um, hello! When was the last time they checked her pulse? Oh Yeah, that would be me 3 hours ago….
Now this event did not deter me from partying like I usually do, because the way that I usually party ends with me heading out with all my clothes on and my wits intact, even if it happens that I leave the club at 6am. Clearly this is a sign of my oblivion but I thought that everyone partied with the same mindset as me, and just went home early. The models on the other hand continued to get wilder, in one instance a model was allowing one male model to play up her skirt while making out with another dude. In plain sight of everyone. Sickening. This was the first time that I had partied with the beautiful people and most likely the last because their party lifestyle is grounds for a party divorce. Though some were really sweet when I was chatting with them I noticed 3 things about this particular subset of human beings: They are taller than me and have legs that come to my belly button, they all have really really long hair that is free of chemical dye, they are heartless attention whores. The end.
Well, we went to the Ritz and got to experience something different. MODELS. Yes, the club that cost 30,000 to get into stayed true to it’s pricy form. It was packed with great looking Koreans and international models.
First we spotted a girl dancing wildly near a mirror and frowned upon her wayward ways. She did not have a drink in hand, but she was certainly getting a buzz from somewhere. Then, the real fun began, we made some friends, got shots poured into our mouth on the dance floor and were basically having a great time rocking out. Here is the thing, I enjoy a good time at club getting my groove on and I surround myself with people who also know how to balance having a good time while also staying in control. This night I was (for some reason) surprised to learn that not everyone can strike this balance and this is the story of one of the girls…
She was found by a Brazillian model and I guess found is not quite the right word for it, because all the Brazillian model saw was a hand on the floor peaking out from one of the bathroom stalls. I was standing in line for the bathroom behind the Brazillian model and she pointed out the hand to me and Security was in the girls bathroom immediately. They tried knocking on the door with no avail. Then the two guards pried the door open to reveal a passed out model in an ocean of her own puke that had saturated her dress and was drying crisply on her long curly hair. They tried to wake her and were looking around at the now large posse of models who were starring down at her to figure out which groups of friends she belonged to. However, sadly, no one would claim her. They all mumbled- not from my agency, or I’ve never seen her, she must be new and the most heartwrenching one- maybe she is 15. WHAT? The story continues…she had passed out while on the toilet and the men looked around for some girl to pull up her underwear. Again, none of the models offered to help and my friend was left to do the necessary yet unpleasant duty to making this passed out girl decent…while trying to hoover above the puked on floor that she was still sprawled out in. (I was in the bathroom while this took place) The next thing was even more disturbing…the security guards, still hesitant to touch her asked someone to check her pulse!!! WHAT THE F! This poor girl, with clearly no good friends, was on something that made her pass out mid-toilet break and now I was responsible for seeing if she was still alive???? Well, ok. So I checked her pulse by first lifting the heavy veil that was created from the puke and hair combo and feeling on her neck. There was indeed a pulse and so I gave the security guards the all OK! sign. Now with her not exposing genitalia and confirmed alive status the security guards felt it ok to pick her up and carry her out, as they did I questioned them with “hospital?” because it looked like she may need a little medical intervention. They did not reply and just carried her out. The restroom was abuzz for a few minutes after she left, but quickly my conversation with the models turned to whether or not I was a model (oh ladies, please! Do you see me passing out in toilets?) and then when that idea was shot down they asked me if I was an extra for the Olympics? (what the fuck were they smoking…I mean…thanks?) I wish the story ended there and I could assume happily that the girl got the help that she needed. Unfortunately this is not so, as I was leaving the club at 5 am I saw a lump on a couch near the entrance to the club near the coat rack…it was the same girl, still passed out, as if the club owners just expected whoever was responsible for her to grab her as they got their checked purses from the club lockers. Um, hello! When was the last time they checked her pulse? Oh Yeah, that would be me 3 hours ago….
Now this event did not deter me from partying like I usually do, because the way that I usually party ends with me heading out with all my clothes on and my wits intact, even if it happens that I leave the club at 6am. Clearly this is a sign of my oblivion but I thought that everyone partied with the same mindset as me, and just went home early. The models on the other hand continued to get wilder, in one instance a model was allowing one male model to play up her skirt while making out with another dude. In plain sight of everyone. Sickening. This was the first time that I had partied with the beautiful people and most likely the last because their party lifestyle is grounds for a party divorce. Though some were really sweet when I was chatting with them I noticed 3 things about this particular subset of human beings: They are taller than me and have legs that come to my belly button, they all have really really long hair that is free of chemical dye, they are heartless attention whores. The end.
end of an era
Today was my last day with the 6th grade classes, and to be honest, it was pretty much the same as any other class. Why you ask? Don't your students love you? Don't they want to shower you with gifts and letters and take pictures of you? I have a way to answers that:
Yes, they do love me (Im pretty sure...) and I often feel their appreciation for my teaching/ saying words they cannot understand with animated gestures and then having them yell loudly during something I call a "game". But for those who are actually good at English, I am probably less of a novelty and more of just another face of just another foreigner who stays for a year and then leaves. If they are anything like my first homestay sister who had her first native speaker at age 4, I think by the time they hit 12 they must have had at least 8 different native speaker interactions/relationships. I think if I had that many English teachers come for one year and then leave I would eventually grow accustomed to that pattern and not really involve or invest myself as much in our relationship. I do think that some students are fonder or me than others, and this could be for a million reasons but I can sense that the ones who have had more exposure are also more aware of the ending to the relationship. Seeing it through their eyes I can imagine that it is not seen as a worthy way to spend time, investing in someone who will surely vanish in a few months time. I also think frequency has something to do with it. I can remember the bonds that I formed with my "homeroom" teachers when I was in 6th grade, those who saw me every day and taught me math or writing. And following my own logic, it is sad to say that I cannot even remember the name or face of a single art teacher I have ever had.
So as I say goodbye to my lovely 6th graders, who I still run into in the hallways...I think of myself less as a teacher who changed their perspective on English but more of a fresh face that is going away in my due time that simply delivered the same message that the teacher before me did not finish.
And I guess the second reason is that none of the students knew that it was our last class and when the Korean teacher translated what it means they were in an uproar. I had to give a whole class my autograph and another shouted out "Don't go to Africa" as I greeted them. Some students asked for my email and one asked for my phone number, proceeded to call me that day and tell me about the chicken he was eating.
Thus, I think the major difference between the goodbye of the last 6th grade class is this one is still coming back after summer break and I will be gone where as the first class was leaving me behind.
:)
Yes, they do love me (Im pretty sure...) and I often feel their appreciation for my teaching/ saying words they cannot understand with animated gestures and then having them yell loudly during something I call a "game". But for those who are actually good at English, I am probably less of a novelty and more of just another face of just another foreigner who stays for a year and then leaves. If they are anything like my first homestay sister who had her first native speaker at age 4, I think by the time they hit 12 they must have had at least 8 different native speaker interactions/relationships. I think if I had that many English teachers come for one year and then leave I would eventually grow accustomed to that pattern and not really involve or invest myself as much in our relationship. I do think that some students are fonder or me than others, and this could be for a million reasons but I can sense that the ones who have had more exposure are also more aware of the ending to the relationship. Seeing it through their eyes I can imagine that it is not seen as a worthy way to spend time, investing in someone who will surely vanish in a few months time. I also think frequency has something to do with it. I can remember the bonds that I formed with my "homeroom" teachers when I was in 6th grade, those who saw me every day and taught me math or writing. And following my own logic, it is sad to say that I cannot even remember the name or face of a single art teacher I have ever had.
So as I say goodbye to my lovely 6th graders, who I still run into in the hallways...I think of myself less as a teacher who changed their perspective on English but more of a fresh face that is going away in my due time that simply delivered the same message that the teacher before me did not finish.
And I guess the second reason is that none of the students knew that it was our last class and when the Korean teacher translated what it means they were in an uproar. I had to give a whole class my autograph and another shouted out "Don't go to Africa" as I greeted them. Some students asked for my email and one asked for my phone number, proceeded to call me that day and tell me about the chicken he was eating.
Thus, I think the major difference between the goodbye of the last 6th grade class is this one is still coming back after summer break and I will be gone where as the first class was leaving me behind.
:)
Thursday, June 23, 2011
May wouldn't go away, and June is done too soon
Last month I complained about the crawling pace at which time was progressing. I guess someone heard me and decided to switch things up a bit. Thus, June was come and gone in a blink of an eye. Now I get to complain about how fast it is going. Time 1 Olenka 0.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Jay Park... SMH
As I was teaching a group of 9 middle school students a dear friend and kpop enthusiast called me today to tell me about an impromptu Jay Park fan meeting that was going to be happening in Daegu. Thrilled to the bone I eagerly jumped on the subway the second my class was done and header over to meet her at the stage where she graciously saved me a spot near the yellow ropes that separated the commoner from the all mighty VIP section (people who had bought over 100,000 won worth of clothing from a particular store). Sure enough the crowd was a mixture of middle school girls and equally giddy 20 somethings as well as a sprinkling of 40 some year old women who still hoped to capture Jay's heart.
Even as I was riding in the metro I was pondering how such an event is to be perceived, both as the fan and as the person who is holding the fan meeting. My reservations for accepting this even as a legitimate human interaction is that one person is shelling out big bucks to meet another person, touch them, be in their presence. That has to be awkward for both parties involved no? Even if there is a general level of support that the fan wants to give the star why do they pay to meet them, the stars get paid enough I think. And don't the stars feel weird being pimped out, they are basically saying- pay 20 dollars to shake my hand. Not normal, right?
The moral dilemma behind me I was standing inches away from the yellow tape and the minutes were ticking by slowly but surely. A few minutes before 6pm the announcer came on stage and started working the crowd. Luckily my friend's co-teacher was there and able to translate what he was saying. One of the questions was- who traveled the farthest to see Jay? My friend and I screamed that we were from America and in true Korean fashion we were ushered onto the stage, given a free T-shirt and ofcourse had our picture taken. Didn't get a sneak peak at Jay unfortunately.
The crowd went wild when moments later he emerged from the white tent that was surrounded by security. He barely acknowledged the crowd and touched his abs in a way that made it seem like he just ate a huge dinner and needed to loosen his pants. His disinterest in the event and the fans was apparent from the beginning. He didn't smile and seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but there. My friend and I looked at each other several times because we were both sensing that something was off. Jay then sat down and began to sign autographs and bop along to his music. Still, no smile, no appreciation beyond the bare minimal. He was basically avoiding being rude, but thats about it. It wasn't even the large exasperated exhales or the vagrant glances that put me over the edge. The last straw that made me straight up leave the event was when an over-excited fan- in a cute not a creepy way- came over and was clearly having an awesome star-struck moment he gave her a look like - you a crazy person, instead of smiling at her. She was oblivious to the disapproving stare down that he was giving her but I would have to have been blind to miss the grumpy and "over it" look that he gave that poor high school girl (I know this because she was still in her school uniform). It may be argued that he was tired or that he was sick, but if either case was true he would have to be dying of an incurable disease for me to overlook the attitude he was giving his adoring fans. I also wondered if he felt pimped out or uncomfortable with the situation, I am sure living in the lime light isn't easy but no one is holding a gun to his head telling him he needs to represent the brand so he doesn't have to do these fan meets if he really doesn't want to. I couldn't help feeling like he knew that they had paid already so he already had their money and they should just be happy with the Jay Park they were getting. It's easy to fall for the cuteness on youtube videos but when the real deal was in front of me he just didn't deliver on the personality or charisma that sold me in the first place, so if he can turn it on and off so easily it is probably quite an act (read: fake) so points to Jay for being good at turning on the charm when the camera is around.
So as I left I decided that last week's no show at the concert and today's lackluster performance (I mean, come on dude, SMILE!) put an end to my interest in this pop idol.
"I'm so full" (OF MYSELF!!!)
What a happy camper...sucks to have so many people adoring you.
Even as I was riding in the metro I was pondering how such an event is to be perceived, both as the fan and as the person who is holding the fan meeting. My reservations for accepting this even as a legitimate human interaction is that one person is shelling out big bucks to meet another person, touch them, be in their presence. That has to be awkward for both parties involved no? Even if there is a general level of support that the fan wants to give the star why do they pay to meet them, the stars get paid enough I think. And don't the stars feel weird being pimped out, they are basically saying- pay 20 dollars to shake my hand. Not normal, right?
The moral dilemma behind me I was standing inches away from the yellow tape and the minutes were ticking by slowly but surely. A few minutes before 6pm the announcer came on stage and started working the crowd. Luckily my friend's co-teacher was there and able to translate what he was saying. One of the questions was- who traveled the farthest to see Jay? My friend and I screamed that we were from America and in true Korean fashion we were ushered onto the stage, given a free T-shirt and ofcourse had our picture taken. Didn't get a sneak peak at Jay unfortunately.
The crowd went wild when moments later he emerged from the white tent that was surrounded by security. He barely acknowledged the crowd and touched his abs in a way that made it seem like he just ate a huge dinner and needed to loosen his pants. His disinterest in the event and the fans was apparent from the beginning. He didn't smile and seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but there. My friend and I looked at each other several times because we were both sensing that something was off. Jay then sat down and began to sign autographs and bop along to his music. Still, no smile, no appreciation beyond the bare minimal. He was basically avoiding being rude, but thats about it. It wasn't even the large exasperated exhales or the vagrant glances that put me over the edge. The last straw that made me straight up leave the event was when an over-excited fan- in a cute not a creepy way- came over and was clearly having an awesome star-struck moment he gave her a look like - you a crazy person, instead of smiling at her. She was oblivious to the disapproving stare down that he was giving her but I would have to have been blind to miss the grumpy and "over it" look that he gave that poor high school girl (I know this because she was still in her school uniform). It may be argued that he was tired or that he was sick, but if either case was true he would have to be dying of an incurable disease for me to overlook the attitude he was giving his adoring fans. I also wondered if he felt pimped out or uncomfortable with the situation, I am sure living in the lime light isn't easy but no one is holding a gun to his head telling him he needs to represent the brand so he doesn't have to do these fan meets if he really doesn't want to. I couldn't help feeling like he knew that they had paid already so he already had their money and they should just be happy with the Jay Park they were getting. It's easy to fall for the cuteness on youtube videos but when the real deal was in front of me he just didn't deliver on the personality or charisma that sold me in the first place, so if he can turn it on and off so easily it is probably quite an act (read: fake) so points to Jay for being good at turning on the charm when the camera is around.
So as I left I decided that last week's no show at the concert and today's lackluster performance (I mean, come on dude, SMILE!) put an end to my interest in this pop idol.
"I'm so full" (OF MYSELF!!!)
What a happy camper...sucks to have so many people adoring you.
Monday, May 23, 2011
may may go away
This month has been dragging along. Usually May = freedom. No more going to school (both as a teacher and a student) no more stress or worries and lots of fun things to look forward to. This year has been exceptional in many ways, one of which being that I am not free from my obligations until August 1st (and then the freedom lasts a short 4 days...) so I guess the fact that I already packed my bags to leave is me working on my presumption that this month of May will bring me temporary freedom...it is unfortunately not so.
Friday, May 6, 2011
ROK 2.0
Dear Korea
I may be a little irrational because I didn't sleep last night. The pint of icecream I consumed can only be blamed for part of the reason that I didn't get much rest. What kept me awake was the tinging sensation that pulsed through my body as I tried to comprehend the news--I had just accepted a job offer in Kenya. I know, I know, your little world is spinning right now. What? How? Where did all this come from? And you are right, you deserve an explanation. Here goes... We had been getting along so well, I love and appreciate everything that you have offered me but this new temptress, Nairobi, has me hooked and I cannot deny my lust for her. She seduced me with an opportunity to train teachers and write curriculum, the need for a Masai warrior bodyguard is only an added bonus that heightens the thrill factor for when we get together. I get to help thousands of slum children gain literacy and open their world with the power of education. You know that this is what my wet dreams are made of. So I will leave you in August, with a heavy heart of course but knowing that I have lived to my fullest here and the time is right to move on.
That's not to say that I will not miss you. There will be many mornings where I will yearn for the spicy taste of kimchi on top of my eggs, but it will not be nearly packed away in a giant tupperware in a separate fridge. Nor will there be a tetris game of "where do I put the tupperware" when I attempt to retrieve myself a snack after school. I do solemnly swear that I will continue to use chopsticks when I eat my meals, life is just more fun that way. I will also miss getting things from students with both of their hands extended, even if the object is a pinky nail sized eraser, two hands will be used. I will miss their cheerful hellos and immediate burst of laughter. I will miss the people that Korea has brought into my life that for no reason outside their own kindness have made my time here so pleasant. Oh, and I will miss the bromancing boys holding hands in the halls of guiding each other lovingly out of my classroom. I will probably cry when my catchphrase-"Good Morning Class", does not yield a return of "Good Morning Ms.Lenets" along with a laser beam of smiles that easily eradicates negativity from my body. Oh Korea, you have been a fine mistress. Your bitterness in winter was complimented well by your summertime heats of passion and never again will I see a club full of 20 somethings in stellagmite heels dancing away in near choreographed unison to Panamaricano. You will find a new English teacher to fill the gap that I leave behind, but lets think of this as not a goodbye but a see you later, because destiny-willing I hope to cradle a Korean youngster as part of my own brood someday.
Forever grateful of your boundless love
Olenka
p.s. do you think it's a coincidence that I am moving from one ROK to another? The wise old turtle from the Kungfu Panda movie says "There are no mistakes, there are no coincidences!"
I may be a little irrational because I didn't sleep last night. The pint of icecream I consumed can only be blamed for part of the reason that I didn't get much rest. What kept me awake was the tinging sensation that pulsed through my body as I tried to comprehend the news--I had just accepted a job offer in Kenya. I know, I know, your little world is spinning right now. What? How? Where did all this come from? And you are right, you deserve an explanation. Here goes... We had been getting along so well, I love and appreciate everything that you have offered me but this new temptress, Nairobi, has me hooked and I cannot deny my lust for her. She seduced me with an opportunity to train teachers and write curriculum, the need for a Masai warrior bodyguard is only an added bonus that heightens the thrill factor for when we get together. I get to help thousands of slum children gain literacy and open their world with the power of education. You know that this is what my wet dreams are made of. So I will leave you in August, with a heavy heart of course but knowing that I have lived to my fullest here and the time is right to move on.
That's not to say that I will not miss you. There will be many mornings where I will yearn for the spicy taste of kimchi on top of my eggs, but it will not be nearly packed away in a giant tupperware in a separate fridge. Nor will there be a tetris game of "where do I put the tupperware" when I attempt to retrieve myself a snack after school. I do solemnly swear that I will continue to use chopsticks when I eat my meals, life is just more fun that way. I will also miss getting things from students with both of their hands extended, even if the object is a pinky nail sized eraser, two hands will be used. I will miss their cheerful hellos and immediate burst of laughter. I will miss the people that Korea has brought into my life that for no reason outside their own kindness have made my time here so pleasant. Oh, and I will miss the bromancing boys holding hands in the halls of guiding each other lovingly out of my classroom. I will probably cry when my catchphrase-"Good Morning Class", does not yield a return of "Good Morning Ms.Lenets" along with a laser beam of smiles that easily eradicates negativity from my body. Oh Korea, you have been a fine mistress. Your bitterness in winter was complimented well by your summertime heats of passion and never again will I see a club full of 20 somethings in stellagmite heels dancing away in near choreographed unison to Panamaricano. You will find a new English teacher to fill the gap that I leave behind, but lets think of this as not a goodbye but a see you later, because destiny-willing I hope to cradle a Korean youngster as part of my own brood someday.
Forever grateful of your boundless love
Olenka
p.s. do you think it's a coincidence that I am moving from one ROK to another? The wise old turtle from the Kungfu Panda movie says "There are no mistakes, there are no coincidences!"
Monday, May 2, 2011
My computer is FIXED!!!
Hooray!
Today really restored my faith in humanity, though living in Korea it is rare that my faith is every dissolved in the first place. My computer was fixed by a kind man who is a friend of my host dad. He tinkered with it for literally 2 minutes before taking out the battery and then replacing it back- the act breathed life into my little computer baby and all was right in the world once again.
That was not the miracle that I was most impressed by however. Upon waking this morning I was informed that today was my host dad's birthday. Sure, a nice heads up would have been nice, but this is Korea so I guess I shouldn't have expected much. Anyhow, he had promised me yesterday that right after school we would go to the repair shop that his friend owns and he could take a look at my computer. I had little faith in this being a fruitful outing but I love my baby computer so any chance of it getting fixed was worth a shot. Now, he did not mention that today was his birthday so I was surprised to learn this fact because he knowingly commit himself to the unpleasant task of taking me to a repair shop on his birthday. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't commit myself to such a mundane experience if the roles were reversed.
When I arrived back that the house, he was already making phone calls and inquiries about where we could go to fix my computer because his friend was busy at the moment. Then he spent about 30 minutes on the phone with the IT lady and translated her questions as a scrunched my face up into a thousand varied but equally unpleasant grumpy faces as I made each response. Then he ran off to a meeting with his sister and allowed me to take over his room and use the computer for the work that I needed to finish as well as responding to my apologies for having to use the computer late into the night with- "That's fine, make yourself at home." At this point, he had already earned his gold star for the day but the kindness kept going as he left his birthday dinner with me in tow to go to the repair shop where he had arranged a special meeting past their working hours. It felt really nice to be treated like a real korean daughter. I had witnessed it from the waygook end in my previous homestay, where the girl's needs ran the show. But to have someone go out of their way to help me, especially on their birthday! That was something extra special and very very kind. I am grateful and will strive to do something equally kind for him.
Today really restored my faith in humanity, though living in Korea it is rare that my faith is every dissolved in the first place. My computer was fixed by a kind man who is a friend of my host dad. He tinkered with it for literally 2 minutes before taking out the battery and then replacing it back- the act breathed life into my little computer baby and all was right in the world once again.
That was not the miracle that I was most impressed by however. Upon waking this morning I was informed that today was my host dad's birthday. Sure, a nice heads up would have been nice, but this is Korea so I guess I shouldn't have expected much. Anyhow, he had promised me yesterday that right after school we would go to the repair shop that his friend owns and he could take a look at my computer. I had little faith in this being a fruitful outing but I love my baby computer so any chance of it getting fixed was worth a shot. Now, he did not mention that today was his birthday so I was surprised to learn this fact because he knowingly commit himself to the unpleasant task of taking me to a repair shop on his birthday. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't commit myself to such a mundane experience if the roles were reversed.
When I arrived back that the house, he was already making phone calls and inquiries about where we could go to fix my computer because his friend was busy at the moment. Then he spent about 30 minutes on the phone with the IT lady and translated her questions as a scrunched my face up into a thousand varied but equally unpleasant grumpy faces as I made each response. Then he ran off to a meeting with his sister and allowed me to take over his room and use the computer for the work that I needed to finish as well as responding to my apologies for having to use the computer late into the night with- "That's fine, make yourself at home." At this point, he had already earned his gold star for the day but the kindness kept going as he left his birthday dinner with me in tow to go to the repair shop where he had arranged a special meeting past their working hours. It felt really nice to be treated like a real korean daughter. I had witnessed it from the waygook end in my previous homestay, where the girl's needs ran the show. But to have someone go out of their way to help me, especially on their birthday! That was something extra special and very very kind. I am grateful and will strive to do something equally kind for him.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Tempe Stay
Copied over from my journal that I used during the temple stay:
The orange vest and purple pants outfit is topped off with a large straw hat that the wind threatens to blow off my heat at any moment. The outfit has transformed me into a temporary Buddhist monk. I am looking down on a temple outside of Yesan and the chilly wind is giving me goosebumps. I cam to experience a side of Korea that is so dominant on travel brochures but not quite so transcendent in daily life. Buddhism. From what my previous host family taught me about their religion I know that building a tower out of rocks near a statue is the equivalent of releasing a dream. A hope that I have constructed from stone is that I have a secure job for next year that will bring me happiness as well as a new cultural understanding and finally set me up for a career that I can enjoy for the duration of my employed years.
******
It is very fitting that this temple stay experience allowed me to channel my happyness about being in Korean in a Korean way- through the 3 step bowing followed by meditative prayer. We listened to monks beating away on the drums to bring salvation to those who walk on land, fly in the sky and swim in the sea. We beaded a necklace of 108 beans- each one focusing on a particular dream or wish that we hoped would come true. A hike in the morning allowed to me talk about my experiences with a Korean woman who was very insightful because of her 3 year stint in America. Then, teatime with a monk brought a nice closure to the stay as he reminded us that even though we make choices about our lives we were destined to make those choices so what we are doing at all times is exactly what we should be doing. He also emphasized that Buddhism may be a way to find out the meaning of life it is only through our complete selflessness and continuous prayer for others that we carry through on the path to enlightenment. All in all, it seems that Buddhism asks very little of the people who chose to follow it's teachings. Thus, when people do make time to devote their energy in payer, meditation or bowing we can be assured that those actions are completely genuine and done with the utmost sincerity. At first, I was slightly puzzled by this hand-off attitude that I attributed to Buddhism's outlook on worship practices, but then I realized that it does make sense and allows the devotees to choose their level of involvement and so making the experience tailed to their needs.
Summary: Because Korea has given me so much to be thankful for it is nice to have a structured Korean way to say thank you for all of my blessings. :)
The orange vest and purple pants outfit is topped off with a large straw hat that the wind threatens to blow off my heat at any moment. The outfit has transformed me into a temporary Buddhist monk. I am looking down on a temple outside of Yesan and the chilly wind is giving me goosebumps. I cam to experience a side of Korea that is so dominant on travel brochures but not quite so transcendent in daily life. Buddhism. From what my previous host family taught me about their religion I know that building a tower out of rocks near a statue is the equivalent of releasing a dream. A hope that I have constructed from stone is that I have a secure job for next year that will bring me happiness as well as a new cultural understanding and finally set me up for a career that I can enjoy for the duration of my employed years.
******
It is very fitting that this temple stay experience allowed me to channel my happyness about being in Korean in a Korean way- through the 3 step bowing followed by meditative prayer. We listened to monks beating away on the drums to bring salvation to those who walk on land, fly in the sky and swim in the sea. We beaded a necklace of 108 beans- each one focusing on a particular dream or wish that we hoped would come true. A hike in the morning allowed to me talk about my experiences with a Korean woman who was very insightful because of her 3 year stint in America. Then, teatime with a monk brought a nice closure to the stay as he reminded us that even though we make choices about our lives we were destined to make those choices so what we are doing at all times is exactly what we should be doing. He also emphasized that Buddhism may be a way to find out the meaning of life it is only through our complete selflessness and continuous prayer for others that we carry through on the path to enlightenment. All in all, it seems that Buddhism asks very little of the people who chose to follow it's teachings. Thus, when people do make time to devote their energy in payer, meditation or bowing we can be assured that those actions are completely genuine and done with the utmost sincerity. At first, I was slightly puzzled by this hand-off attitude that I attributed to Buddhism's outlook on worship practices, but then I realized that it does make sense and allows the devotees to choose their level of involvement and so making the experience tailed to their needs.
Summary: Because Korea has given me so much to be thankful for it is nice to have a structured Korean way to say thank you for all of my blessings. :)
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Rainy Day
So if I were to put together a pro and con list for the topic of "rainy day" the only thing on the pro side would be that it gives me a valid reason to wear the bright pink polkadot rainboots that my mom sent me. The con side carries more weight. For starters, a rainy day "washes away" about 50% of my energy allotment for the day and I feel it necessary to supplement the kilacals by consuming "comfort food". In this weeks case, it has rained three times, thus forcing me to consume an entire 17,000 won bag of assorted mars candy- think bitesize snickers, twix, milky way(both regular and midnight) as well as the boring musketeers that are the last to be picked out of the batch. Another go to staple is my beloved roasted almonds. The energy drain that results from even a mere glimpse at the miserable weather is also a reason that I was able to finish off season 7 and 6 of family guy in the past two weeks. So basic moral of this post- rain rain go away or else i have to curl up with a bin of chocolate and a movie for the rest of the day.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Seoul Spending for the Soul
First, I don't think that the puns about SEOUL/SOUL will ever get old and I apologize...not really though.
Second, I returned to Seoul this weekend and spent money like a raging maniac. My total (drum roll please...) 201,400 won. Actually, that's like nothing by most people's standards. But I'm not most people and the last time I went to Seoul I literally only paid for bus fare and ramen, so this is a pretty astronomical figure. It's not terrible thought, (IF I wasn't a penny pincher to the extreme!) 200 bucks isn't all bad for all of the things I enjoyed/experienced/saw. Here is the weekend breakdown:
I met up with Shreya and had a lovely round of catching up (SHE IS GETTING MARRIED) over a round of beers (just for me though) and played around with her fancy new camera and did psychoanalysis. Then more people joined up but I swiftly parted ways to spend time with a little friend. The next morning we had a hearty brunch of Porridge. A "slow cooked" food that the sign assured me was good for my "wellbeing". I had pumpkin and she had seafood and both were delicious!
Then we shopped. For 7 Hours. No Joke. During our extravaganza we encountered two H&Ms, two Zaras and 1 Forever21. When asking for direction to forever21 SHreya's makeup free smoke eyes scared a woman so badly that she went stumbling down some steps. I came out of the shopping bonanza victorious- a pair of jeans that finally fit my curves! A true rarity in Korea. Shreya also killed at H&M, spending 3 hours and hundreds of dollars at the "good" store. There are 2 H&Ms within 10 feet of each other, one is amazing and the other really blows. Same for Zara, one has nothing while another scored me 3 pairs of pants. As always the fitting room mirrors shed an unflattering light and reminded me to pop in the P90X videos as soon as I arrived home.
After a short break at the conveniently located hostel I put on my fly new kicks and a hoodie that would make Olen proud and headed out to Debbie's birthday at an Indian restaurant. I had snacked earlier so I didn't expect to eat too much...that is until I took a look at the spicy garlic naan. That shit is food porn both in the sense that there is a penile shape to it as well as the way it makes you moan when you eat it. It was so good that it was decided that the same restaurant would be our lunch spot the next day. After dinner we joined with many other ETAs to have some drinks. Taking over the bar we had two tables full of people catching up over Budweisers. The most memorable moment of the night was the dart game. Who knew we had so many dart-sharks amongst us? Shreya had an unbelievable couple of rounds and player 3, who was a compilation of about 8 people, won the game with an astonishing 406 points. Just shy of the 444 we needed for a free pitcher of beer. I love throwing a good game of darts. My years of softball have left me with a throwing form that delivers with a lot of power, but not quite as much accuracy. But, if the dart does make it somewhere near the target the sound on impact is quite satisfactory. It's a healthy way to work off some rage. Still worn out from shopping we called it a night and headed back to our hostel where I proceeded to ram my head into the ceiling of the upstairs sleeping quarters.
On Sunday morning I woke up early and made it to the Seoul Art Museum just in time for the opening to catch the Chagall exhibit before it got too crowded. It was interesting and I had a few favorite paintings that really stuck out. A peacock picture was my favorite. Go figure. I got back home in time to change my wet shoes (rain and new cloth shoes don't mix well) and head to lunch with Shreya and Brian. The spicy garlic naan once again managed to rock my world. We had a little time to kill before departing for our respective placements so we did the only sensible thing and binged on Doughnuts. I had three. The first and third were stuffed with creme and powdered in sugar and certainly are not helping me train for the jeju half marathon. But the experience was a perfect way to top off the great weekend in an absolutely indulgent fashion. Soon after, we left Seoul with a full and happy belly. I return to Daegu permless but permeated with a good feeling that comes from spending time with quality friends!
Second, I returned to Seoul this weekend and spent money like a raging maniac. My total (drum roll please...) 201,400 won. Actually, that's like nothing by most people's standards. But I'm not most people and the last time I went to Seoul I literally only paid for bus fare and ramen, so this is a pretty astronomical figure. It's not terrible thought, (IF I wasn't a penny pincher to the extreme!) 200 bucks isn't all bad for all of the things I enjoyed/experienced/saw. Here is the weekend breakdown:
I met up with Shreya and had a lovely round of catching up (SHE IS GETTING MARRIED) over a round of beers (just for me though) and played around with her fancy new camera and did psychoanalysis. Then more people joined up but I swiftly parted ways to spend time with a little friend. The next morning we had a hearty brunch of Porridge. A "slow cooked" food that the sign assured me was good for my "wellbeing". I had pumpkin and she had seafood and both were delicious!
Then we shopped. For 7 Hours. No Joke. During our extravaganza we encountered two H&Ms, two Zaras and 1 Forever21. When asking for direction to forever21 SHreya's makeup free smoke eyes scared a woman so badly that she went stumbling down some steps. I came out of the shopping bonanza victorious- a pair of jeans that finally fit my curves! A true rarity in Korea. Shreya also killed at H&M, spending 3 hours and hundreds of dollars at the "good" store. There are 2 H&Ms within 10 feet of each other, one is amazing and the other really blows. Same for Zara, one has nothing while another scored me 3 pairs of pants. As always the fitting room mirrors shed an unflattering light and reminded me to pop in the P90X videos as soon as I arrived home.
After a short break at the conveniently located hostel I put on my fly new kicks and a hoodie that would make Olen proud and headed out to Debbie's birthday at an Indian restaurant. I had snacked earlier so I didn't expect to eat too much...that is until I took a look at the spicy garlic naan. That shit is food porn both in the sense that there is a penile shape to it as well as the way it makes you moan when you eat it. It was so good that it was decided that the same restaurant would be our lunch spot the next day. After dinner we joined with many other ETAs to have some drinks. Taking over the bar we had two tables full of people catching up over Budweisers. The most memorable moment of the night was the dart game. Who knew we had so many dart-sharks amongst us? Shreya had an unbelievable couple of rounds and player 3, who was a compilation of about 8 people, won the game with an astonishing 406 points. Just shy of the 444 we needed for a free pitcher of beer. I love throwing a good game of darts. My years of softball have left me with a throwing form that delivers with a lot of power, but not quite as much accuracy. But, if the dart does make it somewhere near the target the sound on impact is quite satisfactory. It's a healthy way to work off some rage. Still worn out from shopping we called it a night and headed back to our hostel where I proceeded to ram my head into the ceiling of the upstairs sleeping quarters.
On Sunday morning I woke up early and made it to the Seoul Art Museum just in time for the opening to catch the Chagall exhibit before it got too crowded. It was interesting and I had a few favorite paintings that really stuck out. A peacock picture was my favorite. Go figure. I got back home in time to change my wet shoes (rain and new cloth shoes don't mix well) and head to lunch with Shreya and Brian. The spicy garlic naan once again managed to rock my world. We had a little time to kill before departing for our respective placements so we did the only sensible thing and binged on Doughnuts. I had three. The first and third were stuffed with creme and powdered in sugar and certainly are not helping me train for the jeju half marathon. But the experience was a perfect way to top off the great weekend in an absolutely indulgent fashion. Soon after, we left Seoul with a full and happy belly. I return to Daegu permless but permeated with a good feeling that comes from spending time with quality friends!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
I made it out of clay
So I am taking a pottery class two days a week. Yesterday was my first day and I arrived promptly at 6:50. The room had a damp stench and many ladies were already hard at work at their individual pieces. This seemed like a very self-guided class and so I sat down and waited for instructions.
There was not time machine that I knowlingly stepped into but the next hour and a half is a testament to human evolution from the cro-magnoman onward until modern times. I say this because once the block of clay was gracefully dumped in front of me I was no longer a 24 year old English teacher, I was indeed a cave dweller with no means of communication (with the rest of the class or the teacher) and I relied heavily on body language and facial expressions to follow along with the instructions.I mimicked and she mimed and we got down to business. In about 30 minutes I made the ugliest coffee cup in the history of the world. My next subject was a plate and to my surprise- it turned out to not be terrible. I HAD EVOLVED. The next 20 minutes were even more significant in creating a superior being because I was allowed to use man kind's secret weapon- tools! Oh glory.
It seems however that as I was illustrating Charles Darwin's point about adaptation quite literally and progressing human kind at the speed of light I was digressing chronologically. By the end of the class I acted like nothing more than a rambunctious 4 year old wielding a sharp object, looking for my next....KILn! hah, play on words. I began to act out, not out of spite, and surely not out of boredom or frustration but I did feel rather confined creatively. The teacher would come over, redo all of the hard work and effort I had put into a piece for the last 20 minutes in a single spin of the heavy thingy and then tell me (with her hands, eyes, body- basically everything but her mouth) what to do next. I had no time to practice the skill she had taught and I couldn't even learn from my mistakes because she corrected everything into a flawless artifact. If these soon to be pots were found by archeologists years from now my chiseled emblem would be associated with pottery perfection and not the shoddy unskilled results that were actuall taking place.
By the end of the class I was using my tools to cut her corrections into odd shapes and I succeeded in getting her to put both of her hands on her cheeks in a "Home Alone" like gasp when she saw me destroy (or maybe transform...) a plate into my version of a maple leaf.
I cannot wait to go back next week.
There was not time machine that I knowlingly stepped into but the next hour and a half is a testament to human evolution from the cro-magnoman onward until modern times. I say this because once the block of clay was gracefully dumped in front of me I was no longer a 24 year old English teacher, I was indeed a cave dweller with no means of communication (with the rest of the class or the teacher) and I relied heavily on body language and facial expressions to follow along with the instructions.I mimicked and she mimed and we got down to business. In about 30 minutes I made the ugliest coffee cup in the history of the world. My next subject was a plate and to my surprise- it turned out to not be terrible. I HAD EVOLVED. The next 20 minutes were even more significant in creating a superior being because I was allowed to use man kind's secret weapon- tools! Oh glory.
It seems however that as I was illustrating Charles Darwin's point about adaptation quite literally and progressing human kind at the speed of light I was digressing chronologically. By the end of the class I acted like nothing more than a rambunctious 4 year old wielding a sharp object, looking for my next....KILn! hah, play on words. I began to act out, not out of spite, and surely not out of boredom or frustration but I did feel rather confined creatively. The teacher would come over, redo all of the hard work and effort I had put into a piece for the last 20 minutes in a single spin of the heavy thingy and then tell me (with her hands, eyes, body- basically everything but her mouth) what to do next. I had no time to practice the skill she had taught and I couldn't even learn from my mistakes because she corrected everything into a flawless artifact. If these soon to be pots were found by archeologists years from now my chiseled emblem would be associated with pottery perfection and not the shoddy unskilled results that were actuall taking place.
By the end of the class I was using my tools to cut her corrections into odd shapes and I succeeded in getting her to put both of her hands on her cheeks in a "Home Alone" like gasp when she saw me destroy (or maybe transform...) a plate into my version of a maple leaf.
I cannot wait to go back next week.
Monday, March 7, 2011
olenka poem
Taking you back to middle school poetry class
Olenka Y Lenets. My middle name is a shining example of my father’s dedication to cheesy humor, even on official documents
Love this quote- “Be intelligently selfish” the Dali Lama said it, to me it means only do the kind of good in the world that you enjoy doing…
Erupting in laughter with a group of fabulously dressed people in a club is equally as enjoyable as reading a book in bed next to my hostsister
Never stop striving for better, once you quit trying, you might as well be dead
Knowing the nutritional content of a Snikers by heart, I still find it to be a worthy and delicious snack
A citizen of the world, I prefer to pledge my loyalties to people and not geographic areas
Olenka Y Lenets. My middle name is a shining example of my father’s dedication to cheesy humor, even on official documents
Love this quote- “Be intelligently selfish” the Dali Lama said it, to me it means only do the kind of good in the world that you enjoy doing…
Erupting in laughter with a group of fabulously dressed people in a club is equally as enjoyable as reading a book in bed next to my hostsister
Never stop striving for better, once you quit trying, you might as well be dead
Knowing the nutritional content of a Snikers by heart, I still find it to be a worthy and delicious snack
A citizen of the world, I prefer to pledge my loyalties to people and not geographic areas
Monday, February 28, 2011
Live long and prosper
So as the CLEA month-long Korean class comes to an end I will come back to my home stay with a shiny new diploma displaying the 87% I earned in the course as well as a new found passion for the Korean language. During our closing remarks, Mrs. Shim said something surprising. When telling us about the Jeju conference that will happen in precisely one month she advised that we do not get too excited and instead start realizing that this will be our last workshop and soon after our year here will come to a close. It is kind of like looking at the year as half over rather than half a year more to go.
A similar chord was struck as I gchatted with my brother and he bade me goodnight with the words "Live long and prosper" made famous by Mr.Spock and re-iterated by my father on his work answering machine. Daily. Yes, my dad is that cool. It should be clear by my numerous star trek related posts that the series played a vital part in my upbringing. My dad continues to update his work phone each day with the date and the words "live long and prosper" so if you were to call him tomorrow you would hear "Today is March 1st, 2011, I am away from my desk please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you. Live long and prosper" stated clearly with a peppering of Ukrainian accent for flavor. What I didn't realize until my brother mockingly added that sentence to his parting words this evening is that I haven't heard my dad's voice say that message in over 6 months. That's half a year of a daily routine that I have had no part in. This made me think...what else have I been missing over the last 6 month, what daily routines have gone for granted in my absence?
1. My dad's work answering machine- thought I know it is coming the infamous Spock line makes me smile every time
2. My dad yelling "Hey lady, come on!" at any car that is going too slow
3. Limes squeezed into orange juice in the morning
4. Being able to call my mom when I am in the department store and ask her opinion on clothes
5. Reading the ingredients list on any food item I am contemplating purchasing
6. Starting a car and driving a stickshift
7. Being able to go into a store and know that at least 90% of the clothes will either fit or be too big for me instead of shopping around for the 10% of items that are not too small for me
8. Being 24 not 26 (my korean age)
9. Dairy being a food group and not a imported luxury good
That is all I can think of for now. I am not homesick. But I do wish I could have a recording of my dad saying "Live long and prosper" at my disposal if that day every does come. :)
A similar chord was struck as I gchatted with my brother and he bade me goodnight with the words "Live long and prosper" made famous by Mr.Spock and re-iterated by my father on his work answering machine. Daily. Yes, my dad is that cool. It should be clear by my numerous star trek related posts that the series played a vital part in my upbringing. My dad continues to update his work phone each day with the date and the words "live long and prosper" so if you were to call him tomorrow you would hear "Today is March 1st, 2011, I am away from my desk please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you. Live long and prosper" stated clearly with a peppering of Ukrainian accent for flavor. What I didn't realize until my brother mockingly added that sentence to his parting words this evening is that I haven't heard my dad's voice say that message in over 6 months. That's half a year of a daily routine that I have had no part in. This made me think...what else have I been missing over the last 6 month, what daily routines have gone for granted in my absence?
1. My dad's work answering machine- thought I know it is coming the infamous Spock line makes me smile every time
2. My dad yelling "Hey lady, come on!" at any car that is going too slow
3. Limes squeezed into orange juice in the morning
4. Being able to call my mom when I am in the department store and ask her opinion on clothes
5. Reading the ingredients list on any food item I am contemplating purchasing
6. Starting a car and driving a stickshift
7. Being able to go into a store and know that at least 90% of the clothes will either fit or be too big for me instead of shopping around for the 10% of items that are not too small for me
8. Being 24 not 26 (my korean age)
9. Dairy being a food group and not a imported luxury good
That is all I can think of for now. I am not homesick. But I do wish I could have a recording of my dad saying "Live long and prosper" at my disposal if that day every does come. :)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Monopoly-Game Theory.
I had a Korean test today. As a testament to what I have learned over the past week and a half in comparison to what I had compressed into my brain whenever tests were given out during Orientation I think today went much MUCH better. Though my grade is probably floating around a 70% I am happy I was able to at least understand what all of the questions were asking me to do.
After we took the test we played Monopoly. I actually hated this game as a child. It takes too long, the rules are abundant and complicated and in the end whoever is losing ends up being a sourpuss. No one likes to lose so the fact that human beings willing subject themselves to these types of games in the first place allows for only three rational explanations:
1. we are bored to tears. (there is a reason that monopoly rose to popularity during the depression- no one else had anything better to do)
2. we are masochistic
3. we just finished a midterm in Korean class and have 3 hours before we can leave
I said earlier that no one likes to lose, though there are those who do not even like to play. Competition, in the most Darwin sense, is the key to survival. So those who claim to have no sportsmanlike spirit would have probably vanished before passing on "I don't care" genes to their equally uninspired offspring. So, this day in age, where does this lackadaisical attitude for games come from? When did people stop caring about winning?
I understand the importance of parents teaching their children how to play nicely with others. But playing IS part of the equation. Saying "it's just a game" is supposed to relieve the pressure and make losing less of a heartbreak rather than completely eradicate the point of competition.
For me how you play a game is quite parallel of how you approach life. If given a task to perform you must try your best to complete it with 100% accuracy. No cheating, but also, no slacking. Rules are guidelines that allow us all equal footing. Manipulating them to an advantage is stepping outside the boundaries of healthy competition. The same sentiment is shared when people refuse to compete or try their best. I for one would not be good at picking and choosing the instances when I was going to put my full effort forth and when I would just do things half-assed. It is easier, more efficient and just makes sense to always maintain a steady standard of full effort.
I have been taught that there is no prize in winning an unfair fight. I realized today that sportsmanship also goes hand in hand with putting forth a competitive spirit and is not satisfied with a high five at the end of a game.
I am thankful that I can enjoy a game with a balanced drive for winning as well as a realization that it is indeed...just a game.
After we took the test we played Monopoly. I actually hated this game as a child. It takes too long, the rules are abundant and complicated and in the end whoever is losing ends up being a sourpuss. No one likes to lose so the fact that human beings willing subject themselves to these types of games in the first place allows for only three rational explanations:
1. we are bored to tears. (there is a reason that monopoly rose to popularity during the depression- no one else had anything better to do)
2. we are masochistic
3. we just finished a midterm in Korean class and have 3 hours before we can leave
I said earlier that no one likes to lose, though there are those who do not even like to play. Competition, in the most Darwin sense, is the key to survival. So those who claim to have no sportsmanlike spirit would have probably vanished before passing on "I don't care" genes to their equally uninspired offspring. So, this day in age, where does this lackadaisical attitude for games come from? When did people stop caring about winning?
I understand the importance of parents teaching their children how to play nicely with others. But playing IS part of the equation. Saying "it's just a game" is supposed to relieve the pressure and make losing less of a heartbreak rather than completely eradicate the point of competition.
For me how you play a game is quite parallel of how you approach life. If given a task to perform you must try your best to complete it with 100% accuracy. No cheating, but also, no slacking. Rules are guidelines that allow us all equal footing. Manipulating them to an advantage is stepping outside the boundaries of healthy competition. The same sentiment is shared when people refuse to compete or try their best. I for one would not be good at picking and choosing the instances when I was going to put my full effort forth and when I would just do things half-assed. It is easier, more efficient and just makes sense to always maintain a steady standard of full effort.
I have been taught that there is no prize in winning an unfair fight. I realized today that sportsmanship also goes hand in hand with putting forth a competitive spirit and is not satisfied with a high five at the end of a game.
I am thankful that I can enjoy a game with a balanced drive for winning as well as a realization that it is indeed...just a game.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Happy New Year! here's to you rabbit.
I'm packing. Again. The constant packing, unpacking, repacking of my bags seems like a lifestyle now. I have been teaching high school English camps in 정읍 for the past two weekends and with a trip to Seoul thrown in the mix I have hardly been home longer than I needed to restock my bags with fresh clothes and play a game of UNO with my host family.
A reflection on the camps: Cooperative and project based learning is a skill that is innate and Korean school children would benefit from more creative ways to engage themselves in the study of English language. Engaging themselves, a possible synonym for "self-study" is an art form that they are still trying to master and if (err...I mean "once") they do Korea will be a big time player in the world. They need to hone their treacherous work ethic and expand it outside the confines of route memorization to create and manipulate ideas. If only there was a hagwan for imagination. Maybe in my naïve and nervous state as a first time teacher I picked 4th graders as my favorite but through experience I now believe that “the older the better.” I also no longer experience the butterflies and worry that consumed me as a first year teacher. Looking back on those rough weeks and months of my first semester as a teacher at Bici I remember how my insides churned at the thought of the problem students walking into class, how I despised lesson planning and seeking useful data for my students and how eagerly we all rushed out of the building on Friday afternoons to purge our memories of the past week with alcohol.
The story is so different on this side of the globe. I am eager to teach my lessons, I adore students and nothing that happens in the classroom has the potential to jeopardize my bowl movements. In simpler terms- teaching is a joy. In other words- I miss that feeling of panic. For some reason it has been instilled in my head that if my day to day tasks do not put on pressure, kick me out of my comfort zone and make me scramble a bit, I am not doing my best. This idea is simply illustrated in the case of the high school student in the English camp I taught two weekends ago who was sitting around while his partner was doing most of the work. After a round of gentle coaxing did not convince him that he should do his fare share I more strongly ENCOURAGED him to complete an entire portion by himself. Sure enough an hour later he had done a beautiful job on a poster but still held a grudge against me for another hour because I had pushed him off his butt to put forth effort and do some work. Maybe what I need is a bitchy Ms.Lenets to stroll up to me, tell me my life is too easy and put in front of me an ultimatum- I better get some serious work done or ELSE. The question now is, what on earth am I to do?
My first intention is to apply for a job in the Fulbright office. When I first heard of the possible job openings in the office I gasped “wow- I could NEVER be Mrs. Shim’s assistant” within a split second I answered myself “WAIT, why not?” I would never allow for myself to be written off this way by anyone else so I certainly wasn’t going to stand for my own brain thinking less of my abilities. I knew why I was thinking it too, the job would be more difficult, the hours longer and the vacation cut to a fraction what I enjoy now. Also, entering Fulbright with an arsenal of teaching experience gave me a lot of confidence which is actually the most important aspect of teaching—so entering a new arena with a new set of skills would be difficult. But that’s exactly what I crave.
My next few weeks will not be challenge free either. I am going to Jungwon again- returning to the marble palace to attain more Korean knowledge and interact with friends from the university. And practice for a marathon! Oh life, you just keep getting better.
A reflection on the camps: Cooperative and project based learning is a skill that is innate and Korean school children would benefit from more creative ways to engage themselves in the study of English language. Engaging themselves, a possible synonym for "self-study" is an art form that they are still trying to master and if (err...I mean "once") they do Korea will be a big time player in the world. They need to hone their treacherous work ethic and expand it outside the confines of route memorization to create and manipulate ideas. If only there was a hagwan for imagination. Maybe in my naïve and nervous state as a first time teacher I picked 4th graders as my favorite but through experience I now believe that “the older the better.” I also no longer experience the butterflies and worry that consumed me as a first year teacher. Looking back on those rough weeks and months of my first semester as a teacher at Bici I remember how my insides churned at the thought of the problem students walking into class, how I despised lesson planning and seeking useful data for my students and how eagerly we all rushed out of the building on Friday afternoons to purge our memories of the past week with alcohol.
The story is so different on this side of the globe. I am eager to teach my lessons, I adore students and nothing that happens in the classroom has the potential to jeopardize my bowl movements. In simpler terms- teaching is a joy. In other words- I miss that feeling of panic. For some reason it has been instilled in my head that if my day to day tasks do not put on pressure, kick me out of my comfort zone and make me scramble a bit, I am not doing my best. This idea is simply illustrated in the case of the high school student in the English camp I taught two weekends ago who was sitting around while his partner was doing most of the work. After a round of gentle coaxing did not convince him that he should do his fare share I more strongly ENCOURAGED him to complete an entire portion by himself. Sure enough an hour later he had done a beautiful job on a poster but still held a grudge against me for another hour because I had pushed him off his butt to put forth effort and do some work. Maybe what I need is a bitchy Ms.Lenets to stroll up to me, tell me my life is too easy and put in front of me an ultimatum- I better get some serious work done or ELSE. The question now is, what on earth am I to do?
My first intention is to apply for a job in the Fulbright office. When I first heard of the possible job openings in the office I gasped “wow- I could NEVER be Mrs. Shim’s assistant” within a split second I answered myself “WAIT, why not?” I would never allow for myself to be written off this way by anyone else so I certainly wasn’t going to stand for my own brain thinking less of my abilities. I knew why I was thinking it too, the job would be more difficult, the hours longer and the vacation cut to a fraction what I enjoy now. Also, entering Fulbright with an arsenal of teaching experience gave me a lot of confidence which is actually the most important aspect of teaching—so entering a new arena with a new set of skills would be difficult. But that’s exactly what I crave.
My next few weeks will not be challenge free either. I am going to Jungwon again- returning to the marble palace to attain more Korean knowledge and interact with friends from the university. And practice for a marathon! Oh life, you just keep getting better.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Home Sweet Home: Round Two
In the midst of uploading vacation pictures to facebook, downloading modern family episodes and taping hanji paper to my wall I have to take a little break and blog.
My surroundings have changes so much and so many times in the past month. I have trekked through Vietnam, soaked up the sun while viewing Wats in Thailand and experienced the beautiful oddness that is Kuala Lumpur. Then, I took over my co-teachers room and hung out with her adorable family. Eating, drinking and sleeping the days away. Now I have finally arrived at my new homestay.
From the get-go I think this is a better fit. As odd as it may sound I loved that they want me to do my own laundry and they have a schedule up on the board where I can write out my schedule for the week. The dad speaks English and wants to play card games after dinner. The mom wants me to show her how to cook asparagus and beans. THE DAUGHTER STAYS OUT OF MY ROOM. Ahh...
Though I am far from a final analysis on my host family I can certainly say that I appreciate the calmness and subtle curiosity with which they approach me. I appreciate being treated like an adult and not a play thing. I think it is sure sign that my room does not have a lock on it because I will not have to use it in order to attain sanity.
My closet is a mess but that can wait until tomorrow. Many things can wait...goodnight.
My surroundings have changes so much and so many times in the past month. I have trekked through Vietnam, soaked up the sun while viewing Wats in Thailand and experienced the beautiful oddness that is Kuala Lumpur. Then, I took over my co-teachers room and hung out with her adorable family. Eating, drinking and sleeping the days away. Now I have finally arrived at my new homestay.
From the get-go I think this is a better fit. As odd as it may sound I loved that they want me to do my own laundry and they have a schedule up on the board where I can write out my schedule for the week. The dad speaks English and wants to play card games after dinner. The mom wants me to show her how to cook asparagus and beans. THE DAUGHTER STAYS OUT OF MY ROOM. Ahh...
Though I am far from a final analysis on my host family I can certainly say that I appreciate the calmness and subtle curiosity with which they approach me. I appreciate being treated like an adult and not a play thing. I think it is sure sign that my room does not have a lock on it because I will not have to use it in order to attain sanity.
My closet is a mess but that can wait until tomorrow. Many things can wait...goodnight.
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