Hello's

The population of Korea is around 49 million people. Here in Daegu it's estimated to be at 2,512, 604. That's a lot of people. Of that two million- there are a few of us non-Koreans scattered around town. I am completely making up this number- but if I had to estimate the non-Korean population in Daegu- I'd have to go with numbers in the thousands.

It's easy to spot the Native English Teachers- we stick out like sore thumbs. My first week here in Korea was a lot to take in- but when you finally spot a foreigner a ways down the street- you can't help but feel a little giddy. I flashed by brilliant smile and waved my hand around like Sandy the sea lion performing a trick at the aquarium. My first encounter with a foreigner! Initially, when the person to whom my greetings were directed were met with a refusal to return my sentiments- I chalked it up to miscommunication or even blindness.

You'd think the exchange of English words and familiar greetings would be the highlight of your day. As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months- I just couldn't understand the stats. I'd say that about 8/10 times my "nods" and "grins" were simply not reciprocated. No eye contact- no acknowledgement- just blank stares.

Having felt somewhat self -conscious the matter was immediately broached within the circle of friends. Apparently this is happening all over Korea. Foreigners disregarding other foreigners when out in public places. Who would have thought?

After some deliberation - it still isn't clear why this phenomenon occurs. Determined to change my stats- and have my "hello's" and "how are you's" met with at least a smile- I go on walking out there with my girlish charm and forward greetings. I'm aiming for 5 out of 10 to reciprocate the gesture. Half is always better than two!

Coke Bottle

The other day in the teacher's lounge, surrounded by co-workers, my Vice Principal gestured for me to sit next to her. She smiled and I could tell by the look on her face she was trying to think of the words she wanted to say. She finally sputtered, " You : Coke bottle" and patted my shoulder. I wasn't quite sure what the words meant; and so by reading the blank stare on my face she again said, " You- Coke bottle". This time she threw in a small hand gesture. Still unclear on the intention- I sneered. Was she calling me fat? Finally after some deliberation she spoke in Korean to my colleague. I was then translated her meaning- she wanted to tell me that I had curves... just like a coke bottle.

I have to admit the symbolism used was brilliant. Slightly taken aback- I expressed gratitude for her comment. She appeared flattered and proud of her compliment.

Here in Korea- people say what they mean- no holds bar. For example, I've been told that I look tired, sick and have even overheard women tell each other that they got fat over the break.

In North America, we tend to smile and nod, and deter from pointing out anything that may be perceived as hurtful, rude or inappropriate.

Maybe we could all take stock in the Korean way of words: say what you mean and mean what you say!

Simplicity

As we move on in our twenties- we hold more powerful jobs, make more money and acquire more possessions. We buy more and want more. Do we really need all that stuff?

Ushered into my apartment on that first day some three months ago- I was quite shocked when I took it all in. Or should I say lack there of?

One bed, one table, one chair. One lamp, one TV, one armoire. A few hangers, a washer and a lone roll of toilet paper. One pot, one pan. Two plates and a can opener. One fork, one knife, two spoons and a pair of chopsticks. That's about it.

After some initial essential purchases and a few a plants to call it home- I was settled in.

The funny thing is- you soon realize that you don't really need all that stuff to survive. It amazes me everyday just how little we need to live comfortably and be happy.

Don't get me wrong- I'm not trying to say that I am now ready to lead the life of a monk- but there is something to be said for the simple life. A little downsizing now and then isn't so bad after all- if you can just be grateful for the things you do have.

Sports Day

Last week our school held it's annual "Sports Day". Here in Korea- you never really are warned about events in advance. The people here just pass information along as briefly as it comes.

Just as I was clearing my desk, shutting the computer down and getting ready to call it a day, my co worker informed me that the following day I would need to forgo my usual work attire and dress in sports clothes. She let me know the school was having their sports day, and that the teachers dress down and cheer on the students.

Geared up and ready to go in my lululemon's I was ready for sports day. As I approached school, a couple of the students passed by me, and giggled in choppy English. I could barely make out what they were saying, but I got bits and pieces of the garbled message. Something about, cheer..... Cynthia.... Teacher..... race. Horrified, I quickened my pace into the building, and sat at my desk- searching for my one colleague who would be able to decode the message.

I was advised that there was in fact a teacher's race that afternoon, and that I should not be worried- it was just for fun. Great- thanks for the heads up.

Outside, the students chanting and cheering peeked my curiosity- from the teachers lounge I saw the students stretching, and running in place. I looked a little more closely and saw the race was a mere 100 meter dash. Relief. I had this.

At precisely 2:35, I was scurried into the main field. In was confused, as the lines for the race were on the other side of the field- but figured they were just going to announce us or something. Then from the left, colored pinnies were being thrown at us. As I struggled to put the damn thing on, I stood there in utter confusion. I quietly asked one of the teachers next to me to clarify. Turns out it we were running a relay race.

I never ran track in high school, I run now and then when I feel up to it- but a relay?? With cold muscles, I was put in position. I scanned the crowds of students and waited for my team mate to turn. I began a slow jog, and grabbed the baton. I was in the lead. As I ran the crowd cheered. My students chanted, "cyn- thi- a" " cyn-thi-a". As each chant escalated, I raised the baton and they cheered louder and louder. I had visions of the Olympics as I wizzed by my competition- I was a natural at this.

Then as I was about 5 steps from the hand off- I totally bailed. Fell down with a thud (there were dust swirls behind me). I saw the sky, the dirt, and the sky again. The crowd was silent. My team mate was so mad, she grabbed the baton out of my hand and took off. As the dust settled, and twigs were pulled from hair- I was helped to my feet.

Limping off the field, trying to save my pride and assess my bodily wounds all I could do was laugh. Seems like something right out of a movie. But this was real. I was all cut up. I was treated, bandaged up and sent home. I spent the next two days answering a 1000 student's inquiries and showing off my battle wounds.

The whole thing went down really differently in my mind., that's for sure.