HJS

Until the day we left for Europe, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be much of a blogger. I’m too idle and self-absorbed to share my idle, self-absorbed thoughts with you. Still, I’m sorry if any of you were worried. Guess it’s not the best time to be dropping out of contact.

We’re doing okay. Two Fridays ago, our school had its autumn “picnic,” which for most Americans would mean an afternoon drinking Kool-Aid and making polite conversation before ducking out for “a meeting” by ourselves. Not in Korea. Only after interrogating the Korean teachers did we discover that the thing was an overnighter.

The “picnic” started at 9 a.m. (ungodly when you usually work 5 to 11 p.m.) with us all meeting at the school, where we took an hour-long bus ride to a big house in the mountains. As we got closer, the hills around us started growing; the destination was by a river in a narrow stretch of valley. When we arrived, Mi-ran, a 28-year-old Korean teacher with lightened hair and a boyfriend in Daegu, led me to “our” room–one that we and 12 other women would share, sleeping slumber-party style on the floor. Joel’s stuff could go anywhere downstairs, she said. I knew then what kind of night this would be. In the whole house, there were only three big, empty rooms. We were so, so glad we’d brought pajamas.

The day progressed with a game of dodgeball. I tried to be a good sport and not come off like an anti-jock elitist (though I DID read something in the New Yorker about psychologists campaigning to rid schoolyards of the ugly sport). Then we had a barbecue lunch outside, thus fulfilling the “picnic” promise. After that, we had a seminar from a local Canadian college “professor”–a longtimer with a couple of call-in degrees whose sentences never strayed from the declarative or rhetorical. He was a man devoid of curiosity, who shamelessly misrepresented a quote of Sartre’s and maligned Woody Allen. Joel and I sat by him at lunch, and after a few hours of onesided conversation and a failed discussion of the war I came here to escape, I was ready to pull out his scruffy gray-yellow beard.

At 6 p.m., we should have been done. If we weren’t stranded together, awaiting the inevitable bonding experience, we would have taken off. Instead, we ate and drank until 3, when Natalie and I discovered that the girls’ upstairs room was packed full of bodies. We went back down and grabbed some floor mats, claiming the lobby as the second girl’s room. Joel found a place next to the boss in the “man’s room.” It was all very surreal.

In the morning, Joel and I made a halfhearted pass at freshening up–two bathrooms, 30 people–and wobbled outside, where the other foreign teachers looked as raw and rumpled as us. The Korean women started descending the stairs, stunning and fresh and perfectly made up. We smelled like yesterday’s socks (we were wearing them, after all). We made no apologies for our odor on the bus ride home. This wasn’t our idea.

Oh, we sound so negative. I didn’t say anything about the blue mist that circled over the mountains in the morning, or the sunset, or the many culture-illuminating conversations we had that weekend. Shame on me. Ask me sometime. For us that Saturday morning, all we could think of was getting home and getting alone and sleeping in a place where every drool drop wouldn’t be witnessed by the people we work with every day. We’re here for the long haul, after all. There’s lots of mountain mist to see.

Hope you’re all doing well. We’re glad to hear that Angie’s fears were unfounded! (see her blog, linked to this).

Take care,

Heather

We’ve been constantly surprised throughout our Korean experience, so when we discovered an absolutely stunning, near-Hawaii-quality beach during our weekend trip to Busan, we exchanged the same expressions we’ve shared hundreds of times since we got here. It’s a mixture of awe and delight and utter sheepishness–how could we have been such snobby Americans?

I said in my “Don’t worry” post that this isn’t a third-world country. That might seem obvious, and after all the pre-trip reading, we certainly didn’t expect it to be. Still, for many people–including us six months ago–the thought of Korea gets mixed up with mental images of squalor and chaos and “roughing it.” That’s probably the case with North Korea. In the south, it’s totally not.

If anything, I’m concerned that it’ll be difficult to adjust to “regular” life after being spoiled by South Korea’s luxuries. We eat lunch out every day; it’s actually cheaper than cooking. We take cabs when we don’t feel like the bus; it’s $3 to nearly everywhere. On the weekends, we go to DVD rooms–private movie theaters with real projection screens and sofas, footrests and surround sound. The whole thing to ourselves for $8-12! And they even have Stanley Kubrick!

There is a certain veneer that hasn’t made it to every surface here. But what’s unvarnished is still clean and colorful. And safe. And charming. And totally affordable.

Did I mention safe? That’s another thing I’ll have to get used to again. Women at night need not fear here. Every day, I walk home among drunken businessmen and sleepy teenagers. If I tripped and fell, every one of them would stop to help. People are kind–almost loving–but not in a creepy way. It’s like crime hasn’t even occurred to them.

Anyway, the beach. Check the gallery for photos. Haeundae (hey-oon-day) is in Busan, which is the big city about 40 miles (and a three-dollar train ride) to the south of Ulsan, where we live. It’s gorgeous. Haeundae is “Korea’s Waikiki”–the most famous beach in the country. The too-cool bloggers seem to think it’s no big deal; I guess we’re easily impressed. It really did remind me of Hawaii. White sand. Buildings piled up all around. Little green islands popping out through the mist on the horizon. We got a room at the Riviera, which is a hotel as opposed to a motel, which probably only means that we overpaid by 30 bucks. Still, for 70,000 won ($70), it was great. They put us on the top–17th–floor, where we had a comfortable room and a view. When we got there, we changed into shorts and went down to the beach, still overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.

We overpaid for lunch–$22 for bibimbap and beer–but it’s cool to drink soju on the beach, so we figured it evened out okay. We had just settled into the sand when a teenage couple approached us with a camera. Could we take a picture? We smiled. Sure. I went back to sipping while Joel got up to do the favor.

Then I noticed that the boy had crouched down next to me. His right hand drifted into my peripheral vision, forming the peace sign–he was posing! The girl wasn’t giving Joel the camera after all: She was motioning for him to get in the shot. The boy wanted a picture with us.

When the photo was done, the girl and boy lingered, asking us about ourselves and eventually plopping down next to us on the sand. Turns out, they weren’t a couple at all: Gwan-jin, the boy, and Min-jeong, the girl, were cousins, here celebrating Chuseok together. While we were in the Korean restaurant, they’d been at Outback Steakhouse, and like us, they came to Haeundae Beach to watch the sunset.

They seemed to want to stay with us, and we didn’t have the heart to make an excuse and go watch the moonrise in private. The image of that sight–the gigantic full moon emerging suddenly over pastel buildings into a pink sky–will forever be intertwined in my memory with “you very hansome man, you very hansome lady,” “Britney Spears famous singer in U.S.?,” “I love Angelina Jolie!!” and so on. Gwan-Jin was delighted to discover he was “just as tall” as Joel. Actually, Joel was experiencing a temporary bout of generously bad posture, but I think the dear kid bought it.

We took the subway (ah, we love subways!) into central Busan the next day, which was crowded but not as charming as Haeundae. Cheap clothes, though. We’ll be back!

Anyway, check out the latest shots in the gallery. Joel got some good ones of the scenery, and a kind passerby took the sweetest picture ever of us and our two little friends. “See you in heaven!” they exclaimed as we walked away, since we’d answered positively when they asked if we believed in God. Luckily, they weren’t on the beach when we reappeared a half hour later. After a goodbye like that, everything’s anticlimactic.

We love you all! See you in heaven! (Just kidding… unless heaven’s Lodi in 11 months. And I don’t think they’re making that claim on the “liveable, loveable” ads.)

Annyong he keseyo. I think that means “goodbye for now.”
Love, Heather

We’ll tell you about our trip to Busan later. For now, I have a few minutes free at work, so I thought I’d do a quick post to calm the fears of anyone who’s worried about this North Korea thing. 

I just hopped on the CNN website and got a taste of the 24-hour fear cycle they’re churning out in the U.S. Wow. I imagine that to some of you, it seems like we’re directly in the line of fire. If you’re worried, thanks for caring, and please take comfort in the thoughts below.

First: North Korea and South Korea are completely different worlds. Our neighbors here are free and happy, and they’re protected by their own army as well as U.S. troops. If anything, the people here strike me as disinterested in what’s happening up north: I’m trying to get them to talk about it, they’d rather discuss American pop culture. I’m not so naive as to think that because they feel safe, they are safe, but I do think their sense of security counts for something. This looks and feels like a big, modern American city: They eat at Outback and shop DKNY and check each other out at Starbucks. This is not a third-world country!

Still, we’re paying attention. If the U.S. State Department tells Americans to clear out of here, we will be on the first plane back. I don’t think that this will happen, but if it does, we PROMISE we’ll go without a fuss. Here’s a link to the website we’re watching: http://travel.state.gov/travel/cis_pa_tw/tw/tw_1764.html

And I can’t write this without pointing out that the freeways in Sacramento pose just as much–and probably more–danger to our lives than this crazy dictator. We would really like to live to old age. We’ll do our best to make that happen. If we thought that staying was foolhardy, we wouldn’t. But for now, we’re not too scared. We’ll let you know if that changes…

Joel-

Hey! I finally found Starbucks in Ulsan! The coffee situation here is pretty grim. I thought that gourmet beans had taken over from Folger’s and Taster’s Choice years ago. They may have lost market share in the USA, but they own South Korea. Instant coffee with tons of sugar and creamer is all you can find in stores. There are coffee bars with Espresso, but they’re more like real bars, not coffee shops. I went through withdrawls. The only decent cup I could find was at Dunkin’ Donuts (which is much nicer here than back home). It’s still a far cry from what I was used to, however.

Ulsan is a city the size of Phoenix, AZ. Well over one million people live here, so it’s much larger than Sacramento. Since there’s around 40 Starbucks stores in Seoul, I had thought that there would be a few stores. Not so! There wasn’t one on every corner. Not even one on every OTHER corner! We couldn’t even find one. But we did hear rumors and mutterings about a Starbucks near the Hyundai Department Store. We took the escalator all the way to the top and searched every level. Nothing! Then we went to the 2 floors below ground. Nothing there either. We were exhausted and gave up. Maybe they had once sold Starbuck’s coffee, we thought, but there was no sign of a store. Sadly, we walked through the exit and gasped! There in front of us, facing a side street was that crazy-beautiful green sign. Heather let out a small shreik and startled an old man walking toward us. He might have thought we were a little crazy and maybe we were! We raced through the door and ordered two Grande Coffee of the Day’s. Black! They cost the equivalent of $6.50. We won’t be doing that every day, but it might be nice once in a while. Unfortunately it costs about $16 for a half pound so I won’t be buying any to make at home either. Oh well. Definitely a luxury item.

It was nice to sit in the restaraunt that looks like so many others with all the Korean teens and twenty-somethings chatting it up just like we do back home. Like most every Starbucks, it was packed!

There’s a new one en route to Sacramento! For those of you who don’t know yet, my sister, Angie, and her husband, Guinness, have just found out that their baby will be a daughter! She’s due around Valentine’s Day. She’ll be my second niece; baby Anna was born last June and is already (quite literally, according to Joel’s mom, who’s nannying her) up and running.

Angie’s sharing her experience on a blog linked to this site. Click on “AGWieland Home” under “Outward”–just under the link to our photo gallery. There’s a picture on there right now. Doesn’t she look pretty? Our sister Jen was the same way–pregnancy makes some women so beautiful!

Congratulations, Angie and Guinness, and congratulations, me! I can’t wait to meet my new little friend.

It’s Chuseok time here in Korea, which means we get three of the next five days off! We work this evening, then we have tomorrow off, then we work Wednesday and get a four-day weekend after that! Chuseok is a harvest celebration that is similar to our Thanksgiving, but it’s celebrated with the anticipation and emphasis that we Americans reserve for Christmas. It’s Korea’s biggest holiday–bigger than the New Year’s celebrations, to my surprise–so all the kids are excited and the stores are crowded with people.

Since my course load includes a lot of discussion classes, I get the chance to learn a lot from the students. They tell me that Chuseok is, for them, a chance to eat cake, play with their cousins and get money from their relatives. They don’t get toys and other gifts–just money. Some of them have to bow to get it; others just collect. They normally get around $10 from each aunt, uncle, and grandparent, which can really add up. Traditionally, the women stay in the house all day and cook, and the men travel to “ancestors’ tombs”–which turns out to be typical cemetaries in most cases–where they bow to their deceased parents, grandparents, etc. and sprinkle soju over their graves.

In one of my classes, I had the students write an essay about what they thought Chuseok would be like in the year 2106. One girl had an idea: A special communications device would be created that would link a TV in their homes with a camera at the ancestors’ tombs, which the men would set up so that the women–who were still busy in the kitchen preparing the Chuseok feast–could pause from their work to bow with them. It didn’t occur to her, I guess, that maybe a better development for a hundred years of progress would get the women out of the kitchen altogether. It’s like the 1950’s here, in so many ways; they haven’t had their sexual revolution yet. Some girls tell me that they’re glad they aren’t boys–they don’t have to work as hard. I cringe and tell them what I think of that. It’ll be interesting to watch the news in 10 years and see how things are changing. It’s a free country; it’s okay to be a feminist here. It just hasn’t quite caught on yet.

So kids get cash for Chuseok. Adults get gifts. Every store has special sections set up with beatifully-packaged presents. Some are things we might expect–Korean wine with a fancy decanter, nuts and chocolates, etc. The other ones we really should photograph; we try so hard not to laugh when we explore them in the store. Picture a fancy wooden case, decorated at the edges and filled with perfectly-angled cans of Spam. Seriously. There’s also canned tuna packaged with oil, shampoo-and-soap sets, and tons and tons of socks. What would you think if your boss gave you a gift set of shampoo, soap, toothpaste and deodorant? Maybe trying to tell you something, eh? Here, in this practical culture, it’s as appreciated as a bottle of spirits. Luckily, they gave us a choice: wine or shampoo. Hmm…

We’ll go to work in a few hours, where I’ll find out how our boss took my “report” about overtime. He’s very nice, but even in our very first meeting the day after our arrival, he was trying to line us up for overtime. NOT working overtime was our “issue one from day one,” as I’ve taken to saying, and though we relented a little at the beginning–thinking that the “favor” would appease him and get us off the hook for the future, we’re realizing that this is a culture that doesn’t understand the desire to cap the workweek at 30 hours. “We don’t need the money,” I told him in a recent heart-to-heart. He probably thought I was saying we’re rich; in a way, we are–rich in that we value time over stuff. The conversation didn’t work as well as I though it had, so I put our terms in writing in a report I did about yet another overtime project he’s hoping we’ll do. I’m not worried–he’s a nice guy and confrontation doesn’t scare me–but it puts a little damper on the whole thing that I wish wasn’t there. Hopefully, it won’t be for long.

For Chuseok, we’re going to Busan, “Korea’s San Francisco.” We probably won’t post until after we return, but when we do, we should have some cool pictures. The shots we just put up are from this weekend, eating and drinking on the roof and with our new friend, Natalie, who kind of reminds us of my cousin Ben’s wife, Stacy (red hair, Canadian, smart, sweet and tres adorable!)

Happy Chuseok to all!

Love, Heather