dollop of solipsism

last night i got drunkety drunk drunk. it was not a pretty sight. this is what i remember:

i met up with my korean-american friend hans (who works in hayang, a hop, skip, and a jump away from daegu) in downtown. he expressed interest in sam gyup sal so we found a place that was packed and ordered meat and spirits (soju). we mostly talked about race and movies and work…i like him because he’s generous with words and he speaks what he feels. and he high-fives me when i say something smart. plus, a person whose favorite book is the autobiography of malcolm x can’t be all that bad, eh?

we ate more meat and drank more soju. i believe we were on the fourth bottle and the seventh high-five when my limit caught up to me. soju always does that, creeping up on me without warning. getting drunk is such a strange, out-of-body sensation. i get completely red, dizzy, loud, and careless. but my brain is still working, watching myself get into a car wreck. stupid brain.

hans suggested that we go dancing, so somehow i ended up at mk club (formerly monkey), where i threw up in the bathroom about 4 times (not on the floor, people, in a wastebasket; i was drunk, not classless). usually i would be wholly embarrassed to vomit in public, but since i was drunk, i didn’t care what anyone thought. is that the beauty of alcohol? hans got me a bottle of water i couldn’t down. and then the better half came to rescue me.

i almost died in the cab ride home. the twist and turns, starts and stops were enough to send me on a vomit frenzy. the beloved told me to sleep. instead i started to sing; words would flow out of my mouth in place of sickness. eventually i made it back to my place, where the remains of my dinner ended up in the toilet. gross, but those calories don’t count, right?

i managed to take a shower (without falling; had i fallen, i probably wouldn’t have felt anything), dressed myself, and got into bed. all that before 1:00am. i woke up this morning at seven. and i can’t sleep. i am not hung over, but i am afraid to eat. i am also never. drinking. again.

in honor of black friday, i am devoting this post to listing out the things i’d buy for myself if i had the money to buy them. a few items are just wishful thinking, but some of the objects i may actually buy for myself in the coming months.

1. ironing board: i’ve been wanting an ironing board for 3 years now. they are so expensive in korea (around ₩45,000).
2. external hard disk drive: the 50 gigs on my laptop just aren’t enough. all of my lesson plans alone total 10GB.
3. planet earth (tv series): a nature documentary produced by BBC. i would prefer the american version, narrated by sigourney weaver.
4. korean-english electronic dictionary: to help with studying.
5. shoes: i am willing to order online, have them shipped home, and have home ship them to me.
6. clothes: the same.
7. um, one of these puppies.
8. a new iPod. mine seems to be on its last legs.
9. vespa scooter.
10. when you are engulfed in flames by david sedaris.

today i bought some adidas running shoes. did i need them? no, but they were on sale and they’re so light. that may be the start and end of my christmas shopping. i went to the bank to send money to the US and the exchange rate is currently hovering in the high ₩1400s=$1. that is bull. really stinky bull.

• my dog jj is still alive, bolding facing death in his fourteenth year on earth.
• street waffles: crisply ironed waffles, half of it spread with sweet cream, the other half spread with apple jam, sold by street vendors in downtown daegu for ₩1,300.
• i actually like my work, my apartment, and the country i live in; this is all possible because my older sister holds down the fort back at home.
• the significant other, who loves me and knows how to simmer me down when i throw tantrums.
• i have friends all over the US—friends who are educated, emotionally stable, and above all, accepting.
• in alice munro’s short story ‘powers’ a character named ollie talks about how when we’re young we are inside this ‘box.’ there, we live with the intention of doing something with our lives that is meaningful and big and great and effective to others. eventually though, you get out of said ‘box’ and realize that perhaps, just perhaps, your life is just ordinary. i’m not out of that ‘box’ just yet.
• i am okay with the way i look, for the most part.
• the following companies: aldo shoes, express men, biotherm, vaseline, and of course, spam.
• no devastating weather conditions affecting anyone i care about.
• my little sister ends every email with ‘love you and miss you, kathy.’

happy thanksgiving, y’all!

the chinese word for the number four, 四 (sì), sounds similar to the word for death, 死 (sǐ). subsequently, the korean word for the number four, 사 (sa), is homonymous with the word for death, 사 (sa). in both countries, along with third wheel japan, tetraphobia is prevalent. this is not dissimilar to the triskaidekaphobia widely seen in western countries (thanks judas, by the way, thanks).

though the fear of the number four in korea is not as extreme as it is in china or taiwan, where addresses, phone numbers, and even car license plates have ’4′ absent, we do see plenty of building-related instances where the number four is altogether skipped. for example, in my previous apartment building, i lived on floor number one. the first floor housed 4 separate apartments—101, 102, 103, and mine, 105. no 104. and it is more common than not to find elevators with no fourth floor. sometimes, we’ll see an ‘F’ in place of the ‘4′ but usually what we’ll see is the 5th floor directly above the 3rd floor. no 4th floor.

these floor number lapses remind me of louis sachar’s book, wayside school is falling down, where there is no 19th floor in the school building. one of the characters, allison, somehow gets warped onto the 19th floor, a parallel universe, and gets trapped there for three chapters (chapters 19, 19, and 19). i highly recommend the book. it is genius.

another interesting number-related taboo is the korean word for ’18,’ which is 십팔 (sib pal). incidentally, the number eighteen is also a curse word, the english equivalent being ‘fuck.’ it is a strong curse word, a curse not even allowed on television. when said in its most vicious way, 십팔 (sib pal) should sound like 씨발 (ssibbal)—that’s when you know the person is effing pissed. oftentimes in class, i use a computer software to choose a student to present or answer a question. it’s a device that randomly chooses a number between 1-30. since students are, at the beginning of the school year, assigned a number according to alphabetical order by last name, the software takes the thankless position of calling on the reluctant (i get no blame). when ‘eighteen’ is chosen, there is always (always) giggling; it’s unavoidable. without a doubt, the number ‘eighteen’ rolls off my tongue easily and often. it’s sooooo fun to say.

today, i learned a new korean term, ‘십팔번’ (sib pal beon), which literally translates to ‘the eighteenth.’ this term is not a curse word, but instead, expresses the song you can perform best at karaoke (i know, so random). a co-worker explained to me that ‘십팔번’ comes from the japanese idea that the 18th act of a play is always the most fulfilling, most entertaining, act. correct me (her) if i’m (she’s) wrong. “what is your ‘eighteenth’?” koreans will ask. my 십팔번 is 하동균’s 그녀를 사랑해줘요 (ha dong gyun’s please love her), a song i learned two years ago through countless visits to the 노래방 (karaoke). at first i thought it might refer to ones set list…like the top 18 songs you can sing well, but no, it just means the one song. your signature song. it’s such a fascinating term.

the english newspaper at my previous school, titled ‘zelkova story,’ won the gold prize this year. this was our second time publishing an english language newspaper, and our second gold prize. not only is it rare to win any of the prizes in consecutive years, but to win gold? that’s just sweet. true, we got edged out of the ‘grand prize’ both years, which BLOWS, but i’ve been told by my former co-teacher that the club members are really happy with the results. as am i, because i spent many many hours making editing and design choices. and that was after i had already moved to my new school (!). anyway, you can see the cover page on the left. i believe we received 250,000 won (roughly $250) in gift certificates.

during the second half of october, diana, fellow native english teacher, and i had the privilege of proofreading five essays a day for about two and a half weeks. every year there’s an english essay-writing contest held in the daegu metropolitan area at the middle and high school levels. five of our second grade students were chosen to compete in this citywide competition, but first they had to go through some rigorous practice. that’s where diana and i came in. in the mornings, one of the korean teachers handed us handwritten essays to divide amongst ourselves; each day the students wrote a 3-5 page essay on a chosen topic. quickly we realized the weak and strong points of each writer, and of course our pens bled on their papers. topics ranged from the US Beef controversy to the Beijing Olympics.

what really stood out to me was the amount of statistical information these high school students have at their fingertips. it’s pretty darn amazing, their memorization skills. two weeks ago, we got the results and three of the five participants received awards (we haven’t had three winners in a year for a while). one girl got the gold prize (again, not the ‘grand prize’), one boy got the silver prize, and one girl got honorable mention. i’m the last to take credit for these kids’ brilliance, but it was really neat to have been a part of shaping the way these (really smart) students write.

very proud.

one of the national dishes of south korea is kimchi. for those of you living under a rock, kimchi is a traditional vegetable side dish made usually from napa cabbage, daikon and scallions, seasoned with brine, garlic, and chili pepper. my mother used to make kimchi a few times a year. she’d cut all the cabbage into chunks, put them in a big bucket, soak them in salt water, and leave the bucket in the garage for a period of time. then she’d call us children to squeeze the brine out of the cabbage chunks while she sliced the chunks into pieces (this was an especially fun activity for us). wearing rubber gloves, my mother would mix all the ingredients in a big tub. the chinese cabbage, radish strips, scallions, sugar, saeujeot (새우젓), garlic, and ground red pepper would get rigorously turned over and over and over until the taste and color were evenly spread out.

methodically, she’d call for my older sister first to taste the kimchi. usually, my sister found it not spicy enough. then she’d call me over. most of the time, i found it not sweet enough. then my little sister, and eventually, my father, though my mother didn’t really care about what he had to say. at the end of several hours filled with multiple food critics and recipe alterations, her gloves would be dyed red, for chili pepper stains. the mixture in the tub would sit in the garage for a few days to marinate and ferment. days later, we’d pack the kimchi in large jars to eat little by little over several months.

and that’s the story of kimchi. at my house, anyway. hardcore makers will dig a hole and store the kimchi underground for a period of time. yeah, we don’t do that.

nowadays, my mother doesn’t make kimchi. it’s just so much easier to purchase a large jar of decently flavored kimchi for $8.99 at the korean grocery store. no muss, no fuss, and no stained rubber gloves. with these jumbo jars of kimchi, though, it’s real easy to let it go sour. you can still eat sour kimchi, but why would you? to help finish up the stock, eat kimchi this way—make kimchi bokkeumbap (김치 볶음밥 kimchi fried rice).

ingredients: kimchi, rice, ham, soy sauce, dried seaweed (김), korean malt syrup (물엿), korean beef flavored soup stock dashida (다시다), black pepper, 2-3 eggs, oil

directions: 1) fry eggs and set aside. 2) slice ham and set aside (spam works). 3) take out kimchi and 4) chop into bits. 5) add oil to pan, heat, and sautee ham and kimchi. 6) season with korean malt syrup, korean beef flavored soup stock, and black pepper. 7) mix rice, eggs, ham, and kimchi together. 8) fry all the ingredients and add soy sauce (you can add strips of dried seaweed here as well). 9) turn to high heat and be sure to burn the bottom layer of the fried rice to give it extra crisp. 

voila! you’ve made kimchi fried rice in under 20 minutes. the malt syrup can be substituted by sugar, and the korean beef flavored soup stock can be taken out (you can also use oyster sauce). there are no rules set in stone for kimchi bokkeumbap. you just do what you like. we made some last night and enjoyed it while watching the first episode of beethoven virus. um, delicious.

on tuesday the season changed from autumn to winter. maybe not technically, but boy, that’s how it felt. the insulation in my new apartment (2nd floor) is better than in my previous place (1st floor), so i’m not as sensitive to the the temperature shifts outside. i rose out of bed, screwed up my back, missed my parents’ birthday phone call, got ready, and walked outside. the chilly winds blew through me as i walked the 7 minutes to school.

the heater in the school office is one of those antique, bob cratchit-like furnaces that use, i believe, kerosene. stationed right behind me, the heater burns the fuel and releases a pungent, gassy smell. several teachers in the office have major headaches (including me!) because of the strong odor. that is to fight off the cold. to fight off the dryness, the teachers in the office do something that amuses me to no end. at random times during the day, a random korean teacher (it’s not a designated person who does this), goes to the office kitchen, fills up a giant kettle, and walks around the room, all the while pouring a small stream of water onto the floor. why do we do this? oh, to create humidity.

we can wear coats, gloves, scarves, long underwear, earmuffs, beanies, and turtlenecks now. i’ve always preferred winter fashion over summer fashion. coats make everyone look chic. recently, flat caps, sweater vests, and hoodies have made their way into my everyday wear. i love how personal fashion evolves. no matter how great you think you look in the present, you’ll undoubtedly look better the following year. it’s like watching the first season of sex & the city. when season one was airing, you watched and probably thought, ‘wow, they look great.’ you look at those episodes now and you think, ‘wow, disaster.’

i went through a flat cap phase sophomore year in college. but i’m sure i look better in them now. i went through a short hair phase sophomore year in college (apparently a lot happened sophomore year in college), but i think i’m kinda rockin the short hair look now. that is, until next year. i also like how fashion goes through cycles.

in relation to the cold weather, i must mention that there is a stray dog in my neighborhood. i can’t tell if it’s a he or she; it looks like a cross between a german shepherd and a jindo, but small. i’ve seen it roaming around freely for months now, and i wonder if it belongs to anyone. it sleeps in front of a particular house, right outside the gate, but i’ve never seen the dog interact with a human (it is very calm, though). because it sleeps on the road, and it is below zero, i fear that it may freeze to death one of these nights. i considered offering it food or a place to stay, but i can’t bring animals into my building. wednesday evening, i found the dog outside that house, sleeping. upon my approach, the dog awoke and stood up. i placed a korean air blanket in its sleeping area and walked away. i assume the dog slept on it. thursday morning, on my way to school, the dog was gone and so was my blanket. when i tell people this story, they chuckle and say, “so the dog took your blanket?”

late last night, i saw the dog again, sleeping near that house. it was sleeping on a blanket, but not the blanket i provided a few nights back. suppose it has an owner? or perhaps someone else takes pity on it. the whole thing makes me sad. korea isn’t great with domesticated animals. there are lots of stray dogs, but that amount doesn’t even compare to the number of feral cats on the streets. oftentimes, i check the animal rescue korea web site and browse through pictures of cute animals up for adoption. currently, i can’t do my part in making korean dogs’ lives better…i feel guilty about it. friends have told me to ignore the building manager’s warnings and adopt a dog. i wish i could do that, but that will give me too much stress. raise a dog, but in secret. sigh.

there is an animal shelter in daegu…i should sponsor a club at school and bring the students over to the shelter for volunteer hours. i doubt a bunch of kids with rich parents will want to participate in such a club. they’re too busy studying. but not a bad idea. i’ll talk it over with some teachers on school monday. that is, if i don’t freeze to death this weekend. i want to stay inside and listen to the cranberries on repeat. yes, that’s what i’m going to do.

friends and family know that i have constant back problems. the first time my lower back went out was when i rigorously worked out to tae-bo; this was probably seven years ago. on a squat-kick combo, the muscles in the small of my back gave out and i was left bent over for 4 days. that same year, my upper back went out when the first significant other, during a round of horseplay, threw me out of my college dorm bed (six feet off the ground). since then, either my lower or upper back gets strained 3 or 4 times a year, which renders me out of commission from exercise and roller coasters for days.

while blow-drying my hair yesterday morning, i tilted my neck down and instantly felt a kink between my shoulder blades. the muscles hiccupped and i, too, gasped. all day yesterday i tried to stretch the kink out, but as expected, the pain didn’t soften. this morning was extremely cold (we’re below freezing point here) and it took me a good five minutes to sit up and rise out of bed. as i taught four classes at school, i decided to do something about this back problem. i asked ms. shin (my co-teacher) if she knew of any good oriental doctors, and she told me she’d take me to a clinic after school.

we left school early and arrived at an oriental clinic near my house. while traditional chinese medicine is reserved only for the worldy and adventurous back in the US, one can find an oriental doctor (한의사) on every corner in korea. they are just as reputable as the doctors who practice western medicine. ms. shin and i walked in, gave the nurses my insurance card, filled out some paperwork, waited 10 minutes, and was called in. the doctor was friendly and handsome. after giving him my history and current pain problems, he directed me to a tiny room (that reminds me of where i imagine prostitutes do business).

first he asked me to specify the root of the pain. once he located it, i felt several needles being punctured into my back. perhaps he used an airgun-like device because that’s what it sounded like. an empty plastic tube was placed on my spine and soon a vacuum was created. i believe this is what penis pumpers do. in this situation, though, the term i believe i’m looking for is ‘cupping therapy.’ after 10 minutes of sitting upright, the nurse decupped me and wiped the blood (blood!) off my back. she informed me that the (unsightly) giant hickey would be visible for at least 2 weeks.

the doctor came back and asked me to look up, down, to the left, to the left and to the right. most of the pain had subsided, which was pretty amazing. however, a small percentage of tenseness was still there, so he shoved a needle on my chin and asked me to look down. more of the pain subsided.

i was then allowed to lie on my back as he worked with my left knee (which has been crappy for the past 2 months). he informed me that i have a miniscus tear (torn cartilage) and that i shouldn’t have avoided treatment for so long. my upper back, he didn’t see as a problem, but the left knee, he was serious about. “do you have more pain when it’s colder?” yes, i answered. funny he should know. three acupuncture needles got stuck on the joint. a heating lamp was directed at my knee and, since i was on my back, all i could see was smoke coming from the needles. if you see the collage (i made ms. shin take pictures), there are some incense-like objects being burnt. this process is called moxibustion and what it does is heat the needle points so that more blood will circulate there. the cigar-like object? that’s a mugwort. as i lay there with smoke rising from my knee, there were two needles pricked on my body, one on my right wrist (that one was a bit scary), and one on my right shoulder. i lay there for 10-15 minutes.

i was advised to return tomorrow for a check up. i was also advised not to shower, at the risk of causing an infected hickey. ms. shin says she’ll accompany me once again. i paid the ridiculous low balance of ₩6,300 (≈$4.35) and we left.

these were my first experiences with cupping and acupuncture. though my upper back is not at 100%, i feel a lot better than i did this morning. why didn’t i think of doing this earlier? anywho, i’m glad to be familiar with oriental medicine so that next time something happens, i won’t be hesitant to walk in and demand some acupuncture.

(spoilers ahead)

the 1st shop of coffee prince (widely known by the abbreviated ‘coffee prince‘) stars popular south korean actress yoon eun hye (윤은혜) and model/actor gong yoo (공유). yoon plays go eun chan, a tomboy who is also the breadwinner of her family of three (mother and younger sister). in the morning she delivers milk. during the day she delivers chinese fast food. in the evening she is a taekwondo instructor. at night, she and her mother shell chestnuts to be sold the next day, as well as sew close the seams of stuffed animals. the character, who has an enormous appetite and a husky voice, and played to infectious perfection by yoon eun hye, is immediately likeable. she’s a survivor.

gong yoo plays choi han kyul, eun chan’s foil and future love interest. he is the grandson of a powerful CEO, and we see him as a reckless, aimless baeksu (백수, unemployed) in episode one. his dream is to become a toymaker, and new york city is the place he needs to be to fulfill that goal. but first, his dying grandmother challenges him to remodel a local, struggling coffee shop. if in 3 months he can turn over a decent profit, he will have her blessings to go to new york city. that’s the setup.

as it is in all korean dramas, the main characters are supported by somewhat underdeveloped acquaintances. in the case of coffee prince, we have han yoo joo, a well-known abstract artist who returns to korea and rekindles her years-long romance with choi han seong, a music producer and han kyul’s cousin. as the story progresses, the quartet of characters get involved in a love rectangle that is way too complicated to summarize. in addition to the (boring) secondary characters are the main characters’ families, and the coffee shop ‘princes.’

since han kyul proves to be a savvy manager, he comes up with the concept to hire only men for the newly minted ‘coffee prince’ (each prince has his own problem and appropriate resolution by series end). eun chan, through a series of twelfth night-inspired events, is hired as one of the ‘princes.’ slowly, she falls for the manager, and slowly the manager falls for ‘her.’ at this point, it is easy to see that the drama stems from eun chan hiding her gender and han kyul struggling with his sexual identity. when i saw the mid-series episodes, i was locked to the screen, thinking to mysef, really—this very handsome son of a good family is going to admit to himself that he’s attracted to who he thinks is a 24 year old boy? yes. yes, he does. when he finally (finally) acknowledges his love for ‘her,’ we get butterflies.

i was somewhat shocked to see the gay undertones in this drama. south korea is still quite conservative about homosexuality; there aren’t even laws banning anything gay because then they’d actually have to talk about it. moving on…

then of course, she tells him that she is indeed a girl, and act III is born. the series is fairly predictable from then on (they live happily ever after—he, a successful businessman, she, a successful (longhaired and beautiful) barista), which is why i’m not surprised that the ratings (while still high) dipped slightly for the last four episodes. by the time he falls in love with her her (the girl) in episode 13 of 16, we’ve exhausted all the drama potential. what is there left to see?

i’ve watched only one other korean drama (my name is kim sam soon). coffee prince, while satisfyingly comedic and entertaining, pales in comparison to sam soon in acting, story, dialogue, music, characters, i can go on forever. however, i still encourage tv watchers to take a chance, for i’m not the only one who likes it enough to recommend it. the 1st shop of coffee prince aired in the summer of 2007 and captured the eyes of young koreans (it was the 10th most popular drama of 2007) with its candy-colored sets, attractive leads, and focus on the lives of baristas. koreans are already obsessed with luxury goods, and coffee is definitely a product of luxury. the network that aired the drama, mbc, capitalized on coffee prince’s popularity by opening up a chain of real ‘coffee prince’ coffeeshops in several big cities. there’s even one in downtown daegu.

after the initial broadcast, girls dressed themselves in bulky jeans, loose hoodies, and sneakers. the short, bang-heavy hairdo go eun chan has on the show found its way onto the streets. even choi han kyul’s mobile phone, the LG prada, became a massive bestseller among korean men. most importantly, coffee prince gained popularity in other asian countries, especially the philippines, thus proving that the korean wave (hallyu (할류)) is still in effect.

every morning i do the same thing. i stand at the sink and get ready for the day. unlike my sisters, i don’t have a problem getting up early (both alarms go off at 7am), and since i joined the gym, what little dragging i did is now almost nonexistent. it takes me roughly 50 minutes to brush my teeth, shave, wash my face, apply toner, cream, moisturizer, and do my hair. there’s a system, and my body follows it. meanwhile, my brain concentrates on the wrongs i have to make right. things people have said that continue to bother me, any doubts about my current relationship, missing my family and friends in the US—all of those messy emotions go in and out of me as i prepare myself to the world.

i used to tell my friend tristan that i have to forgive people every morning. she says i’m not doing such a great job if, after i’ve forgiven someone, i have to forgive them all over again the following day. she’s right. forgiveness is something i just don’t do. recently, the things that bother me in the morning have to do with others who have complained to me. whether it be from co-workers or friends, the complaints are getting to me. since i’m not 100% american (this is a label i’m comfortable with, for i was born in seoul and my parents are chinese), i don’t necessarily agree with the negative things americans say about koreans. and since i’m not 100% korean (actually, the only tie to south korea is my birthplace), i don’t necessarily agree with the negative things koreans say about americans. i feel like i’m in the middle; i, for one, try not to complain about either americans or koreans. i try really hard.

i once saw barack obama on oprah, and he mentioned that the way to judge someone is to judge how ‘useful’ they are. instead of saying, ‘oh, he’s good, or ‘oh, she’s good,’ you say, ‘oh, he or she is really useful in this world.’ something clicked—yeah, i agree with that type of thinking. instead of seeing what people are, the most important aspect of a human being is what he or she does. so there really is no reason to ever say, ‘that korean person is a liar. all koreans are liars.’

[initially people find me pessimistic and unpleasant. just the other day the significant other's friend told the significant other that i'm 'unfriendly.' when i look in the mirror, i don't see a person who sees the world all dark and gloomy. i actually like the world and i try to give people the benefit of the doubt. yeah, i'm judgmental, but that only means i think people can be better. how is that pessimistic?]

whether i’m on the phone or i’m at work or i’m out with friends, i hear a lot of complaints. an inordinate amount. it’s the day after my 26th birthday, and i’m stopping this. no more complaints. to me, someone complaining is just someone who missed an opportunity. you missed an opportunity to fix your own situation and now you’re complaining about it. mostly, it has to do with the complainer’s frustration with his or her self. it has nothing to do with me. in return, i choose not to complain to anyone else. it’s just verbal diarrhea i refuse to pile on some unfortunate body.

a few weeks ago, one of the korean teachers at my school asked me for all of my power point files i’ve used in my english conversation classes. in a roundabout way, she told me that she needed my work to add to a project for the education board she’d been working on for years. since she was asking me nicely, since she has seniority, i gave her my power point files. i regret that decision. i hear that she basically asked for work from other english teachers, collected our work in a handy little book, and presented it to the education center for a teachers competition. no doubt she will reap the benefits of our work and we won’t receive any credit. sigh. i’d been kind of complaining about that situation for a week now, and the person i’m most angry with is myself. i made the idiotic decision to give her my work (my power point files are pristine)…anyway, what’s done is done.

but these are the types of things we complain about. and i think a lot of it is our own damn fault. it was certainly my fault to not stand up for myself, to say, ‘you know what, i feel uncomfortable with this. please step away from my power points.’ and it isn’t right to jump to the conclusion that all korean teachers (especially women) steal work. it isn’t right to do that. it is one woman.

in the two years and two months i’ve worked in korea, i’ve heard the following generalizations about americans and koreans: americans are lazy. americans don’t work. the americans who come to korea are unqualified to teach the language that they speak. americans call in sick when in fact, they’re hung over from partying too much the night before. americans don’t take their job seriously. americans act like they’re entitled to everything. koreans steal. all koreans eat dog meat. korean teachers aren’t qualified to teach english. most korean english teachers can barely carry on a conversation in english. korean men are immature for their age. korean women are ridiculous. koreans care too much about the way they look. koreans are backwards.

does this not make you angry? aren’t we living in the year 2008? how much have we been told to understand one another?

i think about these things in the morning. and these things make me angry. and then i step outside and i feel content. for the rest of the day i bite my tongue and nod and smile. until the next morning when i have to hear the rage inside my head. i would like to put a stop to this rage. the next time someone tries to spit out some anti-american or anti-korean venom, i’m walking away.