hostage

I don't do well with cafeteria lunches. Bowing to the bland conformity of tastes day after day makes me feel like my soul is in a padded chamber, slowly losing air. Every day its the same: I go down to lunch, hopeful, only get en eyeful of greasy soup with soy-sauce broth, sticky rice, kimchi and..."other".  The "other" all tastes alarmingly similar, despite differences in substance and composition. Greasy, peppered, pickled.

I have trained my face to stay calm while the principal looks on, smiling, as I heap the rice and kimchi on my tray and sit down among my co-workers, who are equally anxious that I enjoy the meal.

And then, there's the conversation.

God bless Susan's heart.  She tries so hard, everyday, to engage me in conversation. And I, like an ungrateful, petulant brat, refuse to give up the goods: instead of warm give and take, or gentle encouragement and correction, I give polite, clipped responses. One word, if possible. Yes. No. Mmm. Mmm? Oh, mmm.

Her side of the conversation goes in circular leaps and bounds, which I listen to, barely holding back a laugh.

"I went to the Jeju island" she said today, "by scooter."

Pause. Circular hand gesture.

"around the island."

Pause. Another circle.

"I rode on the scooter, going around."

Pause.

"Taking the scooter to the island, I used it go around. Around?"

Laugh. Pause. "Is it right? Around? Anyways, I want to say that used a scooter to around the Jeju island"

Yeah...I got that the first time you said it.

I have tried, gently, to interrupt this cyclical conversation pattern by telling her a key fact: I understand. To no avail, she just keeps plowing through the same phrase 50 times.

"I really want to say this one" she'll say.

Just listening to the wind up is enough to cause hysterics. So I stay silent, gently sidestepping her clumsy attempts to bull past my resistance with the grace of a matador.

Of course, sometime's interaction is unavoidable. Last week, I had to ask her a question about class. I wanted to show the students some clips from Fantasia.

"How long are the clips?" she said, "10 minutes?"

"Less then that," I said, "but I'm not sure."

"10 minutes?"

"Less then 10, I think" I said. "I'll check"

"10 minutes?"

"Less than 10. Some are only 5."

"So, 10 minutes?"

"No. Less than 10. But I'll watch them first, and choose which ones I want."

"Aaaah. Less than 10 minutes?"

"Mmm."

And that was a fairly easy conversation, folks. Hence, the one-word answers. It makes me feel a little cruel, but in between her feelings and my sense of sanity, I am more concerned with being able to sit in a room with her for 40-50 minutes without stabbing myself with the nearest sharp-ish instrument.

Say WHAT now?

Today, the weather is beautiful. Warm, sunny, trees with lots of little leaf buds. Just all around cheerful and amazing. So I through on a sundress to match my mood, and rocked out with new do.

(it's an afro. it's kind of amazing.)

I didn't expect anyone to talk to me. Usually, koreans are too shy to do anything other then point, stare, and talk about you in Korean. So I was not prepared to chat in the elevator, trapped between the 12th and 1st floor, by a suspiciously single man in his late 30s (I'm being generous in that age estimate...he looked closer to late 40s).

"Are you American?" he said.

Whoa, whoa, stop the tape. Ok, so, despite the fact that I here to teach English, I find it totally disoreienting when a Korean person can actually speak English. Usually the throw out a mash of Korean, Konglish and unintelligible gestures that are best ignored because they're just too creepy. That's the norm around here. With the exception of the Jesus Freaks, English skills are pretty low.

"Are you an English teacher?" he kept questioning me. I nodded, smiled a little, tried not to engage too much. His piercing interest in my hair, and bosoms, could only mean one thing as far as this conversation was concerned.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

There it is. The favorite question of creepy, older, men.

"Yes." I lied to him. Let's face it, I wasn't interested in anything besides reaching the first floor ASAP and escaping being trapped in  more awkward conversation with him.

"In Korea?"

"Yes." I almost chuckled at that. If my fictional boyfriend was back home, I wouldn't be looking to two-time him with this guy.

"A Negro?" He asked.

O_O. PARDON??

I tried not to show my surprise. After all, Koreans aren't bashful about race-related words. The korean term for "n*gger" is so commonly used that a student said it to my face last week, no idea that I might take issue with it.

But still.

To have man....who is hitting on me...ask me if I am dating a Negro. I mean... WOW.

Just, wow.

Busan

Busan Tower

Busan Museum of Modern Art

Bexco

Beomeosa Temple

This tree reminded me of whipped frosting! mmm....

First time I ever saw a buddha detail in SK temple design

Bamboo!

Busan Baseball! Lotte Giants

Jordan, the guy I couch surfed with in Busan

Love photography? One of these days, I'm going to take a real class. Check out degrees at Guide to Online Schools for info on how you can get started now! Keep up with their scholarship opportunities and more!

Oven!

Catch-up: The good, the bad, the ugly

Lots of things have happened, so I'll give you all the digest version, in no particular order of importance:

• I have a native speaker in my 4th grade class. I am giving him lessons on the side, so that he doesn't lose his English. We will start by reading "The Phantom Tollbooth"
• Tequila gets me in trouble. Get drunk, kiss inappropriate people who then text me for...you know.
• My teacher's class is the most boring, painful part of my week. And now they want to use a textbook, which means...EXTRA boring.
• I got an oven, and baked an apple dumpling to celebrate! Delicious, minus the fact that Korea doesn't actually have good apples.
• School lunch is disgusting. Soup, salty, swimming in grease, some sort of pickled, peppery veggie, kimchi, rice, and assorted indigestible others. MUST commit to bringing my own lunch, and brave the awkwardness of stepping outside of the norm.
• Got invited, and the uninvited on the 6th grade class trip because one of the teacher's felt "uncomfortable" sharing a room with me. This message was repeated, then translated, all to people who thought it was ok to pass it along. I was then re-invited when the principal found out what happened. By "re-invited" I mean coerced, and I had to pretend it was awesome even though I have no desire to associate with my co-workers anymore. I totally understand the princess and the pea. Despite all their efforts to placate me, that event has left me feeling bruised and buffeted.
• I changed my hair again - wearing out and natural for the first time in my life.
• I received my first ever 5AM drunken booty call text.  (I was asleep)
• I went couchsurfing in Busan, which was awesome.
• I joined a gym, where my workouts get interrupted by old men asking me my age, where I'm from, and if I have a boyfriend.
• My co-teahcer, Ghey, is utterly distressed by my lack of urgency to find a boyfriend, get married, have babies, and be as bored and unhappy as she is.
• Talking to Susan is still a snoozer, but I try to be nice about it.
• An engaged friend asked me have a threesome. Nope, his fiance was not included in that mix. (I said no. I mean...he's engaged.)
• I am waiting for a day warm enough to try Baskin Robin's blue aloe ice cream. Looks amazing!
• It's finally Spring in Korea!