Tall Tales From A Short Canadian

Sawatdeecrup,

We are currently in Na Thon, the port town of Koh Samui in Southern Thailand. Our trip thus far has been nothing short of spectacularly relaxing. Our flight out of Korea was a nightmare, as we were positioned next to the two oldest, drunkest, and unruliest old hallibudgies (old Korean men) on the plane. The flight was six hours, during which we waited and waited, giving them as little attention as possible, for the old guys to tire of their folley and passout… which didn’t happen. On the contrary, they harrassed the attendants constantly for ice, drank from their own bottle of rum, and got progressively louder and drunker as we approached Bangkok. Near our arrival, they were singing old traditional lovesongs to eachother, barking at the poor abused attendants, and trying their best to amuse Nicole (who was now past the point of amusal). These guys were incredible! For those of you who know him, think Delbert on a real bender with one of his old drinking buddies… times 10. And because of their good Confucianist upbringings, none of the annoyed Koreans on the plane made so much as a “shhhh!”.

After spending an uncomfortable night on a bench in the airport and squeezing out two or three zees each, we flew into Koh Samui and then caught a ferry to Koh Pha Ngan. We had to take one more long-boat out to our beach, called Haad Tien, where we would do our cleanse. There were four of us on the boat. All of us, including the drivers (I thought) were shaken up by the end of the trip. The Thai longboats are pretty narrow, and we were catching big air in it, getting bashed around by huge swells. We nearly tipped several times, or so it seemed to me. It was the most terrifying boatride of my life! When we got off, we were in a totally different world, a “healthy lifestyle” resort called the sanctuary, all bamboo and thatched rooves built into the rocks. Having come from bustling down-to-business Busan, it took us several hours to adjust. This place reminded me of Nelson… times ten. Think patchouli, citronella, naked boobs, bare feet, and dreadlocks. But after our initial distaste of the place, we ended up getting sucked into the “groove” and having an amazing and mellow time. They played great music and everyone one was entirely laid back. The food was out of this world. We ate all raw food for two days, then fasted for three and a half days, and then worked our way up to normal fare over the following two days. As of last night, we are now back to Singha and shrimp, feeling good, and are ready to sample some more Thai specialties.

The fast itself was supervised, and included herbal support, veggie broth, fresh juice, and daily colonics and steam-room. For you skeptics out there, let me say from experience (without being too explicit) that colonics work. Stuff that has been riding around in you for way too long comes out. It ain’t pretty, but it feels good to get rid of it. Nicole lost about ten pounds, and I lost about six, and I assure you that it was all unnecessary weight. The people at the Wellness Center were incredible. We had a Christmas dinner of veggie broth with cayenne and lime with about twelve other fasters, and then watched Borat. It was cool. I highly recommend therapeutic fasting. We both feel lighter, and even our eyes changed colors a bit (a little-known effect of detoxing).

On our remote tropical beach, we just sunned and swam (the weather cleared after about two days), and layed in hammocks reading books. We met some of the local wildlife, too. A scorpion took to my jeans, and wouldn’t give them back for a day or so, I almost stepped on a green snake, and we found a spider the size of my hand in the closet on our last day. Oh, and the cockroaches are gigantic here, and a little friendlier than in Korea. Anyway, after getting back on solid food, we caught a boat back to Samui where we are now. We rented a bungalow on Haad Lamai for two nights, ate incredible Thai and vegetarian food–colonics give you a meat aversion, whether for short or long term, time will tell–drank a few beers, and watched a Thai boxing event. Tomorrow morning, we leave by bus and ferry for Bangkok, where we will hang for a couple days and check out the touristy sites, and maybe look for something weird and fun for New Years, before heading up to Chiang Mai in the North.

Take care, y’all. More words coming in a week or two, and photos to follow in a few weeks.

Popkunmai,

suteebun

ssupp?

It is Sunday afternoon, and quickly becoming evening. At this point in the week, I usually have that heavy, foreboding feeling in my belly, warning of Monday’s approach and another marathon week of teaching. Instead, I feel something altogether different… excitement, anxiety, and more excitement. My work-week will last one day, and then Nicole and I are off for our big trip to Thailand and Cambodia. We will leave on Tuesday night, spend one shitty night at the airport, and then take a connecting flight to Ko Pha Ngan for some serious R and R… 8 days worth, to be precise. Following that, we will probably head up to Bangkok to connect to Cambodia where we will see Angkor Wat, the Killing Fields, the capital, and a few other sights, leaving us with about 2 extra weeks to check out Northern Thailand and perhaps another island or two. I know, I know. We’re meant to be saving money for school, paying back loans, etc, but we have covered some tremendous ground in those respects during our year in Busan, and frankly, we deserve a bloody good  holiday. I really think that trips like this kind of come with the territory. Essentially, we live in exile from our own country out of necessity more than mere cultural interest, and so we will reap the rewards while we serve our time.

Recently, two or three entries ago in fact, I sort of bitched and moaned about the Koreans, their rudeness and superficiality, but let me say that I trust Korean people in general more than I do westerners, and Korean rudeness actually doesn’t come close to the behavior of some of the expats I’ve witnessed here. And here’s an example: Friday night Nic and I had a very rare night out on the town with some friends, and following a few beers at the nearby popular expat haunt, U2, we went to McDonald’s (another rare occasion) for some therapeutic greazies. First thing we saw as we approached was a guy we know pissing in a paper cup right at his table, in front of the cash register and in plain view from the windows. Then, when we stepped inside, we heard this huge commotion. Some drunk Brits were screaming obscenities at the two shaken girls behind the cash register. Nic and I stepped in right away and defended the staff, but there would have been a brawl had we not eventually walked away. “I’m talking to my bitch! My Bitch!” the one bloak kept saying, buzzing around me like a wasp. There were four of them. I figured Nic could take one or two of them, I could maybe take one if I got a lucky punch in, but there’d still be one more who could run around and knife us in the back or something, so, our words failing to diffuse the situation, we wisely abandoned our hamburger-eating endeavor for the night.

There really is no excuse for this kind of behavior. What they were doing in Korea at all, I have no idea. I have witnessed expats abusing the natives before, and it sickens me. It’s like these people, many of whom are Canadians from my experience, come here and think they own the bloody world. Some of them assume that the Koreans can’t understand English, so why not be as rude as possible? “Hurry up, you old c–t!” I heard once in Seoul as some mouthy Canuck waited for a little old Korean lady to cook him a fried egg sandwich in a back alley at 5 in the morning. The Koreans, while not without their faults, don’t deserve this kind of abuse. No one does, of course. Seeing it makes me have dreams of learning Aikido so I can fight for justice and break arms.

Ah, but back to better things. I haven’t been taking many photos lately, but have recently learned of a new technique called HDR (high dynamic range) which involves taking 3 or more shots of the same scene, and then using a computer program like Photoshop to fuse them together, allowing for a far greater range of highs, lows and colors than a normal photograph allows for. I decided to try it out today, and so the following three are my first attempts. After playing with the images a bit, I found that you can keep them really simple, but just have a bit punchier, livelier photo, or you can tweak them to your heart’s content. With the following, I may be leaning a bit into the over-tweaked side of things (well.. not compared to some that I’ve seen), but am pleased with the results all the same. I will leave you with these, and both Nicole and I send our family and friends back home a sincere and heartfelt HELLO, we miss you, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and hugs all around.

Expect the odd update from Thailand…

love,

suteebun and nico

PS check out my new, slowly expanding “best of” photo compilation at http://www.flickr.com/photos/stevenhorr .

Greetings readers,

I apologize for my previous somewhat negative post. I assure you that my time here in Korea has been fantastic, and I try to keep my unflattering observations mostly to myself. Or maybe not. But anyway, don’t get the wrong idea. We love Korea and Koreans. We are not racists! A thorough look through my archives will demonstrate that my reflections on Korea have been by-and-large positive ones.

That said, check this shit out (and I mean shit)!

The good ole dong symbol. It’s everywhere here. Kids scrawl it on the whiteboard when Teecha Suteebun turns his back. Rebellious teens spray-paint it on walls and posts. I’ve seen big iconic dongs used in advertisements. I located this little guy while I was at the subway station looking for a bathroom.

He and his helpful squad of dong showed up in the nick of time, and guided me to where I needed to be!

As many of you know, we will be leaving for Thailand in one week. This maybe the last post for quite sometime. I will try to blog while we travel, but photo uploads will be unlikely. Anyway, we miss you all!

Later,

suteebun

Cheerio!

When exactly is it photo (poto to the natives) time around here? All of the time is POTO TIME! I’m in for a little derogatory Korean-bashing–I know I am. It’s been building up for months. I really do try to balance the negatives with the positives, but alas, as winter approaches and the beach days, short skirts, and colorful leaves disappear, Korea becomes dismal and dreary, and I begin to notice the blemishes more. What I am talking about most specifically is a kind of cultural vanity I can barely stomach. And if I am being culturally insensitive: I am sorry! I love the Korean people and am fond of many Koreans personally. The following are true stories, however, that I just need to get off my chest.

VANITY 

As I have mentioned in previous posts, the Koreans are a well-dressed lot, although they haven’t quite developed much individuality yet, especially in Busan. For now, south of the capital, there is a kind of uniformity to the fashion: tall boots, high heels, fake fur, toques (year-round–that’s ‘beanies’ for the kiwis), pink shirts, David Bowie haircuts for boys, etc. All-in-all, these people look sharp. They know it. They flaunt it. They take photos of themselves non-fucking-stop! Sometimes it is pretty natural. Some friends visiting Haeundae beach take a few tourist shots in front of the ocean. Whatever. Sometimes, however, it is blatant vanity. I have watched several girls taking pictures of themselves over and over and over again, tirelessly, for up to an hour at a time. They’ll pose, shoot, examine the results, reposition slightly, and shoot again. A visit to Starbuck’s scarcely resembles a visit to a Canadian franchise. Everyone here is dressed for poto-time. Couples sit, scarcely talking, and take pictures of each other, look at the results, and giggle. The other night Nicole and I were at a little Vietnamese restaurant having some pho (not at our favorite, comically-named joint: Pho Kim… pho kim anyways!). A Korean couple came in, sat down, and ordered. They were both dressed like movie stars, the girl wearing some kind of mink scarf and dark, round sunglasses (at night). They barely spoke to each other. They seemed each to be merely a flattering accessory to the other. The snobbish, petulant woman, with not a trace of a smile, took close-up pictures of herself the entire time we were there. What a vain freak!

Not only is it poto-time here 24/7, but it is always mirror time, too. It seems that mirrors are positioned everywhere, and they reflect a good many Korean faces steadily. The Koreans love to look at themselves, it seems. I have ridden the subway and watched young men and women stare into their own reflections for their entire 1/2 hour trip, gently tugging their hair this way and that. I think that ALL Korean Women have little pocket mirrors. It is not uncommon to walk into Starbucks and see a table of four young women all doing their make-up over coffee, or their eyelashes, or just staring at themselves vacantly in some reflection or photograph. What is going on here? It’s weird. It is funny to watch sometimes, and rarely sickens me like the instant with the girl at the pho shop did. It’s fun to watch them walk down the street and look at themselves in the reflection of every car window that they pass. It’s funny to see them obsess about every little hair, or see them pulling their gangster toques straight in July, or picking at their gums after a snack until their smile is again picture-perfect. Koreans spend an above-average amount of income percentage on beautification, according to Korean news.

RUDENESS

The rudeness in this country can be astounding. I am still amazed by it sometimes. It is true that, paradoxically, Korean’s can be incredibly helpful and extremely friendly, but their capacity for outright rudeness is where they really shine. Generally, when back in Canada, and now here in Korea, I will hold the elevator door open for someone if I hear the faintest of footsteps approaching. Thrice in recent times have I been rejected from elevators. Once, the man in the elevator kept pressing the door-close button even as I entered, effectively smashing me twice between the steel doors. Failing to kill me or turn me away, he swore and left the elevator, refusing to ride with a foreigner. Just this week, I was a second delayed in jumping in the elevator, and some crusty old ajuma sandwiched me with the doors with no remorse whatsoever. She even had a trace of a sardonic smile, methinks. Another time, I ran, hearing the door closing, yelling for the elevator passengers to wait for me. Relieved, I smiled at the cold, expressionless face of a woman staring back at me until it disappeared between the doors! Bitch!

I cannot even count the times that people have tried to bud ahead of me in line here. It happens nearly everytime. Sometimes it is so brazen, it is enfuriating. You can be standing at the front of the line in Starbucks, eyes on the menu and money poised in hand, and have someone wave their cash in front of you and essentially barge right in… and this when there is no one else at all waiting in line behind you! I have been pushed, jostled and weaseled out of line by men, women, elders, and even kids. I was recently told by a fellow waygoogin (expat) a story about him being in line at the cash register of a grocery store and having a little old lady just kind of toss her goods in front of him so she could get in front. Around here, you snooze, even for a heartbeat, and you do lose. Occasionally, I play the same game, but generally, I prefer to exercise the considerate gentlemanliness I was taught growing up. Do these examples amuse or surprise you? I am really just scratching the surface.

POOR TABLE ETIQUETTE

Slurping, burping, spitting… sometimes paying attention to the diners around you in a Korean restaurant can quickly destroy your own eating experience. Unlike we from the west, Koreans don’t seem to mix food with dialogue, and go to eating with the same one-pointed determination and efficiency with which they approach most tasks, it seems. It can often be a noisy and messy enterprise. If they do converse while eating, they don’t bother waiting to speak between mouthfuls of food! The men sometimes snort and gob into a cup or bowl in between mouthfuls of food. I have started to notice that many young people snap their mouths wide open and closed while chewing, making the most of their bestial eating sounds. It is an awful thing to witness, sometimes.

Kay, I’m finished. I really try to show some o’ da good, and some o’ da bad. I mean, it’s all culturally relative any way, isn’t it? And I am painting them all with the same brush. However, when it comes to common courtesy, I kind of believe there are universals. Or should be. I know that for the most part, these Koreans, and Busanites in particular, are just doing what they do and knowing what they know. I see things from a different perspective, naturally, and am just not great at keeping things to myself. Also, as my year-long contract grinds to an end (2 weeks to go!!!), my patience wears thinner than panty hose.

Ciao fer now,

suteebun

Knee How,

Last weekend, Nicole and I ventured north to our thus-far favorite Korean weekend destination: Gyeongju. We stayed in the same hotel as last time (blue-lights, jacuzzi-tub, pimped-out, and only minutes from Korea’s biggest Buddhist temple complex!), and enjoyed an even mellower vibe than last time when we visited during mine and the Buddha’s coinciding birthdays. That’s not to say there weren’t tourists. Oh, there were many! But there was no band this time, and the general feeling was slower. Although I read that the fall foliage was not up to snuff this year, due to a very late autumn, it was nonetheless breathtaking. And on this trip, there was not only one photographer blasting off shots with machine-gun indiscrimination, but two. I bought Nicole a Canon Powershot A640, a sweet little number with a kick-ass zoom and higher pixel density than my own (and a bit cheaper and more compact). She was starting to get bored always waiting for me to shoot the same picture nine or ten times. Problem solved.

Caught in the Crossfire…

Introduction: Some funny extras…

We were served watered down Americanos by Ass Man.

Then we were preceeded up to the Buddhist temple entrance by Cash Bitch. The words were written across her chest also.

Temples and Trees, in all their glory…

As some of you perhaps know, my photos all get a final shine in Photoshop. I assure you, however, that I did nothing to the color balance or saturation of the majority of these photos. The reds were so red out there, they made my eyes bleed.

The above picture gives you an sense of the enormity of Bulguksa. Look closely. That’s Nicole in the blue T-shirt. She walked right into my line of fire! Rattattat!

Above: my top model.

After collectively taking 600 or so photos, we grabbed a little bottle of ginseng wine, called Bekseju, my guitar, and a piece of turf outside of the temple. I sang love ballads as we gazed into the sunset. Not really!

Ah! Relaxation. It affected our well-being positively until about 3 PM on Monday, when it disappeared altogether.

Good things about Korea: food, temples, transportation, doctors (about 1/15 what they cost in Canada), clothes, overall costs, great theaters, jobs-a-plenty, saunas, safety, and overall convenience.

Bad things about Korea: xenophobia, superficiality, tambae, rudeness, pollution, MSG, lack of respect for the elderly (Confucianism, my ass), the smell of sewage everywhere, and everyone is always speaking Korean!

Good things about Canada: multi-ethnicity, coffee (Tim’s), hockey, nature, wild animals, space, clean air and water, friends and family, and everyone is speaking English (well, mostly).

Bad things about Canada: taxes, student loans, student loan interest rates, Stephen Harper, housing costs, medical costs, food costs, gas costs, education costs, a false sense of national superiority, inferior public transportation, and a lying, bloodsucking, and corrupt government.

Sorry about that digression. I just did some paperwork and realized that out of all the hard-earned money I’ve been dropping on my student loans, only about 1/3 of it has been going towards principal. And the rest? Someone up the chain, I’m sure, is having a great time with my money! It pisses me off. Kids, my advice to you: stay out of school, unless you have the money to pay for it upfront. We saw some fireworks last night. They were one beach over, but I managed to position myself for a couple decent photos. I’ll leave you with one of them.

suteebun

Jambo,

If you’ve gone through my blog archives, or have been reading my blogs all along, you’ve seen my previous embarrassing photos of Beomeosa Temple. My excuses: 1) it was winter, and there was no foliage, 2) my old camera sucked, and 3) I just wasn’t as good at taking pictures! Well, now I feel that I can scrap the old film photographs and feel okay about it. How the hell did the pre-digital man live? How did he cope? How did he take good photos, get free music, keep in touch with friends from around the world, watch live NHL games in Asia (that’s right; we watched the Habs/leafs match-up Sunday morning), investigate weird, obscure cults or keep track of the New World Order and climate change?

Nicole and I couldn’t have visited the temple site on a better, crisper fall day. The sky is so blue here in autumn, just outside of the city. The weather has been perfect this month. I think it’s been plus 20 or higher every day, and Sunday was no exception. The leaves in Korea aren’t expected to be as vibrant as in past years, due to the unusually warm weather, and they are changing later. There were enough splashes of color on the mountains to please, however. 

Here are my new and improved photos of one of Busan’s most visited tourist sites: Beomeosa.

If you recall, in my last Beomeosa weblog, I refused to point my camera at the Buddha. This time, a desire to share the temple interiors with others silenced both superstition and cultural tact. Besides, the Koreans were all doing it!

Sadly, all of the Korean tigers are gone.

They were all chanting to the beat of the drumming monk. I take back what I said on an earlier post about Chinese worshippers being more reverent than Korean ones. I just hadn’t seen actual Korean Buddhists in action much before. An English speaking gentleman told us that the quantity of worshippers visiting the temples goes way up right before students take highschool admittance exams, as good grades mean good schools, and matter so much to the futures of these kids. Their parents come in droves to pray for them.

Above: This is where the monks actually live.

I have to stick one of myself in here and there, just so you all remember the face behind the blog.

We went directly from this (above) to this (below)! What contrast! Thank God most of the Busanites still prefer shopping to visiting temples and hiking, or our day wouldn’t have been as mellow and refreshing as it was.

I hope you’ve enjoyed these. Stay tuned for more colorful images of Korea, as we plan to revisit Bulguksa soon to catch the fall fireworks there at their climax.

G’bye,

suteebun

G’day, boys and girls.

A happy halloween to y’all. Our halloween party at Kijju Kullubb (that’s Kid’s Club) was a riot… too much fun for me, frankly. I carved seven pumpkins, handed out candies to all of the sugared-up lads and lassies, and drove terror into hearts of the young ones. It was fun, to be honest, for about three hours. By the end of nine hours, I was aching for my own halloween treat: about nine bottles of Soju! I did manage to get a few funny pics from the day. Check ‘em.

Three of my Kindy brats were Batman. I was a transexual neoviking…(?)

Sure Tim was playing it up for the cameras, but this photo of our head teacher drowning in costumed kidlets with blood-sugar levels rocketing through the roof summarizes the day aptly. Well, so does the following one…

Ha! Happy Halloween!

Our head teacher again, here carving his second or third  pumpkin. We had to use big meat cleavers, as the sole steak knife was lost (or stolen!) early in the day.

Steve. Another Canadian with student loan issues.

Robert teacher. He’s been here for eleven years. Loves it.

From left to right: Yun, Harry, and Belle. Good kids.

Jamie is Buzz Lightyear. Harry gets around the class. He’s the happiest kid I’ve ever met.

Daniel, with Harry (again) in the background. Daniel is the ideal student.

Vinny is an individual and a rebel. Cool kid, although he draws my mighty wrath occasionally. And below, my girls: Belle and Suah.

Cute, eh? Later.

suteebun

Fo Shizzle,

What follows here is a brief photographic tour of PNU, Busan’s biggest and trendiest University district. Who knew that there were artists and hipsters living among the business suits, cargo ships, and octopus vendors?! *Note: feeling inexplicably patriotic, I reverted to Canadian spelling throughout.*

Please proceed…

Above: PNU shopping district, in all its glory.

A hip dad and daughter.

Just off of the main track, we were allured by all of the colours…

Ah, the mighty PNU river(?). The kids pictured below had been running around tossing garbage into it before I captured them here taking a breather.

As you can see, this waterway was already loaded with debris. It was kind of congruous with the surrounding art in a weird, colourful, industrialized way…

…But it really stunk.

The photo above doesn’t really do justice to the art piece it represents. You could go into this little black movie theatre, and just watch the river scene unfold before you. There was also sad, ambient music playing. Great idea! We sat there for quite awhile watching the “movie”. I wish I had thought of it first!

No dogs, please! Dong - ok. Double steaming dong - ok. But no dogs! I reckon a little dog shit would have blended with the local aromas quite favourably.

Everybody’s favourite leaf, second only to the maple for some, is seen everywhere in Korea: on clothes, on signs, on stickers. The funny thing is, I don’t believe they really know what they are advocating. They’ve never partaken! They’ve never imbibed the vibe. They’ve never even smelled it, most of them! And as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, a think a big ole collective blast of some BC bud would do this country some good, overall.

I’m not sure why this restaurant proprietor is smiling. He can’t be making much of a profit. (buddum-bum-pshhh)

Nicole, at our favourite Turkish eatery, looking very Dutch and elegant.

The author, looking broodingly German… or trying to. 

And the subway home.

Hope you enjoyed it. Please leave comments. Here’s a special tip of the hat to my man Carlito Sanchez from the hills, this blog’s number one contributor and supporter. He comes out of his badger hole regularly to check for updates and comment comically. Hope you keep digging it, C (full of bad puns, I am)! We miss you all back home. If we stay for another year, please consider a visit to Asia. We would love to have guests.

LUBBu,

suteebun

namaste,

Yesterday, we stirred up the monotony with a visit to Bexco and it’s Star Wars exhibit… Geek Paradise! It was pretty cool. I particularly liked the costume designs, and would really like to get my hands on some Jedi threads. The conceptual drawings were very good, too. The exhibit included a few life size crafts (mostly the small little speeder ships), life size costumes, and an array of sound effects blasting out of speakers. It was, ultimately, 12 bucks and an hour well spent. We managed to bumble into a few other spectator events, too. Here are a few touristy pics from this saturday, and the saturday before.

Elderly Koreans watching some kind of traditionalish performance outside of Bexco. They don’t like the sun here.

Nicole having a go at Darth Vader. Her lightsabermanship was pretty weak, I thought. She remained in the above position for the entire duel!

It really was like visiting old friends! Hi guys! Star Wars changed my life, shaped me, made me who I am!

I always had a soft spot for the jawas. Some kids had teddy bears. Some had cabbage patch kids. I had a jawa.

Above, Jedis Tabitha and Nico… Doesn’t that just make you feel that the galaxy is a safe place after all?

No, it’s not a Star Wars costume!

Yeah, don’t let that cuteness fool you. He’s a monster in training. Read previous post for my perspective on Korean parenting.

You’re never safe from the all-seeing eye.

An ajuma looks puzzled and bedazzled by the exotic hunkiness before her…

I managed to grab a few photos of the dancers below at the subway station while Nicole suffered from food poisoning in the bathroom nearby. Oh, the price of living large and eating out all of the time!

And I’ll shut ‘er down with a sunset pic taken from our old apartment.

OUT,

suteebun

Howdy y’all,

I try to be as culturally sensitive as I can be on this site, and in general, but I must confess that I censor myself and resist criticizing my current hosts when, in many cases, they probably really deserve it. I understand that all things are culturally relative. I understand that this nation has been through wars and has been conquered and taken over by the Japanese. I understand that their values are based on totally different foundations than my own. But now that they have entered the global community, now that they consider themselves international players, it’s due time that they get some criticism. Well, how about if I just jot a few things down here for you, for trivial entertainment value.

My first qualm with Koreans is this: PARENTING (or lack thereof). One thing Korean parents have working for them is their children’s safety, overall. In North America, parents have to vigilantly keep one eye on their kids at all times, out of fear of kidnappers, terrorists (ha!), and paedophiles. Here in Korea, children are pretty safe. It’s not that uncommon to see them running around at night outside of bars. Nobody worries about it, and I think this is great. Unfortunately, this freedom afforded to Korean children probably contributes to the way they act. Nicole and I were talking about it the other day. We agreed that Korea was being overrun by children. Children run the show here! Confucianism is dead in Korea! The only time I see it really being exercised is when a few old business chaps saunter up to the taxi lines and butt their way to the front. Elders seldomly receive respect from the young here, at least not to my eyes.

For example, on the subway, the only time I have seen a younger person give up a seat for an older person was in the case of a foreigner giving up his seat. No, on the subway, the kids yell and laugh and talk boisterously and play on their mini playstations with a general disgregard for anyone, really. I’m telling you, they are among the worst behaved people in the world, are these Korean children. Perhaps every other day, at least one child at my school will behave in a way that would have him suspended or expelled in Canada. Here are a few examples that are close at hand in my memory banks:

Last week, a kid (my very favorite student… favorite to kick out of class, that is!) brought his B.B. gun to school, shot two of my other students, threw an eraser at me when I took his gun away, and when I sent him outside, he told the Korean school director to fuck off. I had another B.B. gun pulled on me yesterday, and this was by one of my favorite students who I assume thought I’d respond playfully. I took the gun (which was rattling full o’ B.B’s) away, told everyone in the class that if I saw another gun, I would keep it, and that in Canada, kids would get suspended for bringing loaded firearms to school. They just don’t get it. Why? Korean parenting (or lack thereof). recently, I’ve been hearing that most male elementary students are now packing pistols to school…

Hypothetical morning at fictional Yoon’s household, Monday morning at 7:45 AM: Korean mom: “Yoon, do you have your rice and kimchee?” Yoon: “Yes, old lady. Now gimme some money.” Korean mom: “Yes, dear. Did you pack enough B.B’s for the day, son?” Yoon: “Sure did. I even have an extra one here for you, old lady!” Pkoooo!!!

Now, Nicole works at my school, which is in the most affluent part of Busan, but she does a few shifts a week in the core at a much more ghetto hagwon. Some of the kids there sounds absolutely awful, and I have thought about going there myself to take a stick to them. I know it sounds harsh, but Nicole has had to do just that. Imagine smiley, usually complacent Nicole Baarbe, walking around a classroom waving a stick around, smacking desks and occasionally jabbing kids in the ribs… it happens! Every week. Being in a classroom full of Korean kids is sometimes like being in a cage full of hyenas, all high on sugar. An older student in class told her the other day, out of the blue, the she was fat, and that she needed to diet. I get this occasionally, too, but only jokingly from my most beloved prize-pupils. Well, in this case it was said out of malice. We both feel that many Korean boys, led by the examples of their fathers, are consiously and deliberately rude to foreigners, especially women, because to bow down to a female alien would be far too much for their national and masculine prides!

Daily, I am called bukbuggy (baldy), monkey teacher, hallibudgy (grandfather), crazy teacher (a title I back-up), and things of that sort. I have had my students for seven months now, so I can usually detect when these things are being said playfully, and when they are said spitefully. Most of the time, the little punks are just kidding around. When Nicole’s student called her fat, he was not being playful. To the best of my admittedly hazy recollections of my own elemantary school years, I do not recall this kind of abuse being flung at my teachers this regularly! How many examples do we have now, two? Onward, then! Here’s a good one:

Last weekend, Nic and I were enjoying one of the last real hot beach days of the year, just laying on our mat reading and taking in the ultraviolets, when a rowdy gang of undisciplined kids came running up beside us, throwing sand at eachother and just being loud. Their moms and aunts were all watching, screaming at them to stay clean. A few of the kids got a bit dirty, running through the skim and then picking up wet sand on their pant legs. So this mom comes down and gives them a box of kleenex and demands that they clean up, or they won’t be allowed in the car. God forbid that they should bring sand, dirt, or even undenatured air into the car. They must keep the natural world OUT! So with the mom intermittently watching and doing her lipstick a safe distance from the wild and unpredictible ocean, the kids wiped all of the icky sand off of their legs and shoes, and started running back to the adults, leaving behind a sizable pile of discarded tissue inches from the tide line. We yelled at them, but they kept running. With pride, I watched Nicole run up, gather the tissue up, and chase the little pricks down, stuffing the rubbish into one kid’s hands and pointing to the nearby trash can angrily. The mother just stood there, looking stupified. “Put our own garbage in the suraeggi (trash bin)? Oh, you zany waygoogins!”, her look suggested. Actually, she looked a little embarrassed. As she should have! I’d have gotten a glimpse of Delbert’s belt had I done that!

Occasionally at school, to break up the monotonous routine of “How’s the weather today?”…”It’s velee velee sunny!”, we have book parties upon the completion of a text book. This gives the kids the chance to consume even more crap than they ordinarily do on a school day. Normally, when a book party is planned, they come to class with snacks, and then we, the teachers, bring a big bag of chips or something, and maybe some pop, into class. Well, I had this one class (probably my worst one), and one day, feeling jovial and getting extremely bored of the book we were studying, I told them to work very hard for the next month and I’d buy them chicken or something for the book party. They were so excited that they actually did work hard for a day or two, but when class morale began to slip, the mention of chicken would improve things nearly instantly. SO when the day came, I was kind of obligated to get some chicken, which I did for about five dollars. Well, I ran around like a waiter and handed out chicken to the little spoiled brats, and the entire time they whined because they didn’t get any sauce, or they did and they didn’t want it, or Andy got a bigger piece, or I didn’t hand them out fast enough. I told them they were spoiled brats and that they were essentially evil. Not until I became visibly pissed, did one girl finally say “thank you, teacher” near the end of class, and most of them followed suit. Anyway, that’s the last time I do that! I am trying my best to teach them manners here, but I’m working against old, familial conditioning. Few of my students knew when to say “thank you” when I first got them. They’re learning, slowly.

I do realize that I am contributing to the problem through some of my reward systems, but I am trying to change that. Unfortunately, these kids are already dialed into a system based on rewards, praise, and most poisonous of all, bribery.

Hypothetical Saturday at fictional Yoon’s household, 12:30 PM: Korean mom: “You shot a student in the eye! His parents are very angry!” Yoon: “Sorry, mom, but he tried to steal my chocolate bar.” Korean mom: “Really?! Well, in that case…” Yoon: “Well, he looked at it.” Korean mom: “If this happens again, I’ll… I’ll… take away your playstation games!” Yoon: “Ha ha ha! No you won’t!” Korean mom, stammering: “Well, then I just won’t buy you one this week.” Yoon, putting on the infamous Korean pout: “Oma! Come on. You don’t love me! No wonder I’m so bad. You’ve never loved me!” Korean mom: “Oh, yes I do, Yoonie! I love you! Here: go get two games, and some kimbap while you’re at it! Promise me you’ll be good!” Yoon, eyes fixed on the won in his mom’s hand: “Yeah, ok. Whatever.”

I know I’m being a bit harsh, but from what I see, Korean parenting is that bad in many cases. I do have the odd student who shows me the kind of respect a teacher could expect in North America. You can really tell the students who do receive proper discipline, who are taught respect and manners. But I tell you, from my experience, they are very few and far between. Do I sound racist? A korean teacher at my school spent a few years in America, and she told me that Korean kids are terrible. They’ll tell their teachers they don’t like them, or that they’re ugly, or that they want to go to a different class. I’ve had it, too. I just laugh and make them do extra lines, now! But really, in all fairness, it comes down to a rapid change in lifestyle in Korea, I think. After all, Koreans went from eating on dirt floors to living in high-rise apartments and having a big rep in global economics nearly overnight. The fathers are essentially money-providers, working insane hours and then going to <ahem> company meetings (aka bbq soju piss-ups) after work. And did you know that kids in Korea study from about nine in the morning until (in some cases) twelve at night? I shit you not. And this doesn’t even include studying done at home.

Well, there’s my rant. Something needs to change, I feel, because these kids are not going to grow up to be very globally minded, conscientous people if the adults don’t start to give them some sound behavioural guidelines. On that note, perhaps all hope lies with the younger generations.

over and out,

suteebun