Days Go By

Time is starting to go by much quicker here as we enter the hotter part of the year. Spring was brief, as we were told to expect, lasting only two or three weeks, and we're just starting the "uncomfortably warm" stage, which is set to worsen over the next few months. Still, I spent so long bemoaning the freezing cold that I'm not gonna complain. At least not until the next blog post.

This week I cross the six month hump, meaning assuming I finish when my contract states, I have less time left here than I have already completed. At some stage over this series of posts I'm sure I've mentioned how I came here with an open mind to spending a few years here (though not really expecting to). I think the world in which that would have been likely to happen is the world where I landed a public school job here the first time I applied. With the majority of my friends here working in public school I can draw easy comparisons and contrasts with them, and it's certain that between shorter work days, more social work hours, freedom to teach how you want and far more vacation (and in-school excursions), hagwon work definitely counts as drawing the short straw. It'd be easy after a year in a public school to say "that was great, I'll take another, please", but I finish my contract around Halloween, which is far too late to apply for a public position even if I wanted one, so I think I'll call it quits. I did get another job offer pretty recently though...

A perfect example of shoebox Korean housing (photo credits to my friend Alex Castillo)

Two Fridays ago I had my most authentic Korean drinking experience to date, sitting at a dinner table for six hours knocking back shot after shot of soju with my taekwondo class (only the adults, naturally). While that night is consequently draped in a foggy haze, one thing I recall from it was my taekwondo trainer suggesting that if I can level up to black belt in October (which is a significant IF, but not impossible), would I consider staying here to work with him as a taekwondo trainer when I finish my hagwon contract. Given the state I was in I immediately assented and we drank to it. It has, however, come up in class since then, and I told him if I have time on my hands when I finish teaching (which is completely dependent on whether or not I get into a masters any time soon) there's no way I could pass up such an opportunity, and that I would give him six to eight months of my time. Ultimately I don't see it coming to pass, but even if it doesn't, just being asked made me feel as if I had really accomplished something here over the last six months - in coming here I never foresaw myself taking up taekwondo, let alone flirting with the idea of teaching it, and that's something I'll take with me from this whole experience. 

(I should at this point explain that while in karate a black belt is the sign of a master, the same colour in taekwondo only means mastering of basic skills, and so while it takes years to level up inside of the black belt levels, to get to stage one of black belt can take as little as a year if you put in the right training. I passed blue this week and will be doing red in a few months.)

These beauties are mannequins in a clothes store downtown. It makes me wonder if Koreans see all Westerners as bobble-headed Aryans. I sure hope so.

Grim

I wrote once before about Korea's struggle with suicide among teenagers, and the rate remains depressingly high here through to adulthood. As with many conservative cultures there is a massive stigma attached to mental health issues here, to the point where therapy and counselling are greatly looked down on and misunderstood, and I think in some cases going to a therapist can even be grounds for dismissal from work. Instead of tackling these problems with the intelligence, love and understanding they require, some Korean employers have come up with a "novel" way of dispelling their workers of emotional imperfections: new workshops have been set up where, across the space of one day, bereaved families of suicide victims lecture workshop attendees on how their lives have been ruined by their family member's selfish suicides. Later in the day attendees are told to imagine what it's like to be dead, which is facilitated for them by actually putting the participants into coffins and shutting them for an unspecified amount of time. When the coffins are finally re-opened the oft panicked and tear-stricken workers claim to be revitalized, newly appreciative of life and, crucially, ready to rededicate themselves to their jobs. Poor call, Korea.

In lighter news, a recent trip to the Jindo Sea Parting Festival gave me the chance to attend a Holi Colours Festival, the most perfectly instagrammable event known to man (and a lot of fun). 

Boyband haircuts

The barber who cuts my hair doesn't speak English, and I don't speak Korean, but that's fine, because he has a book of presumably famous Asians whose hairstyles I can point at (that is to say, they are presumably famous, not presumably Asian). For the days I don't feel like getting a perm like most Korean men seem to want, there is, happily, a foreign celebrities page. On this page there are two photos. One is of Brad Pitt. The other is of Westlife. I decided to make it my goal to get all the Westlife haircuts, so I started with Shane's, and after that I got Mark's. I can't decide whose to go for next but it's almost that time again and I sure am excited about my options. It's a photo from before Bryan left the group too, so it should sustain me the rest of the year without any need for repeats, or the Brad Pitt one.

Or maybe I'll just go with one of these

To conclude

There was a flu going round in the last few weeks, and my bosses's daughter picked it up. For reasons that remain unclear, instead of sending the kid home, my boss erected a tent in her office where the child could study and presumably sleep. I'm not sure if this was a weird Korean thing to do, or just a weird thing to do.

Sometimes I am very baffled by this country

Holidays, Urban Stylings, Pins and Pongs

It's getting warmer here and there's plenty of hiking to get under my belt. Koreans love to hike. Which suits me fine, cus hiking is one of the things on my long list of Interests I Don't Get Around To Nearly As Much As I'd Like. And they love getting kitted out in the latest hiking fashion - you'll even find air hoses along many trails for you to keep your sports gear looking new and dust-free. It certainly helps explain why, when I did the Camino de Santiago two years ago, every South Korean we passed (and surprisingly, they were plentiful) was laden down with walking sticks, sun hats, sun gloves and everything in between. Myself and my good buddy were a sorry sight alongside them, blistering as much of our pale Irish skin in the Castilian sun as we could possibly manage, looking bearded and haggard. At least our bandannas looked good.
I'm in a pretty solid routine here between work, taekwondo and jamming as much as possible into my weekends without feeling completely wrecked come Monday morning. The worst thing about it by far is the lack of holidays - as little as ten days vacation in the whole year because I'm in a hogwon (public schools get a minimum of 18) - which leaves you with no time to see much of Asia. The idea the Tefl companies sell, essentially "Want to get paid to travel?? Come teach in Asia!" is a complete lie if you work within the hogwon system, and there's no way the recruiters aren't aware of that. The majority of the travelling I'll do here will be when I finish the 12 month contract and not before then. It puts a bit of a damper on the whole experience; if you had a week off every few months you would always have something to look forward to in the near future, but ticking off the months here instead ends up feeling like your only focus is completing your contract and leaving, which really is not what this was meant to be.
At the same time, I can't argue that it's not part of the Korean life experience. Given how few Koreans ever travel and how kids start a new academic year the Monday after the previous one ends (the vast majority spending their only days off in study rooms), it's made me think that they must view life in a completely different manner. In the West we have a tendency to survive the work year by peppering it with vacations, bank holidays, festivals, short excursions, that kind of thing - but it seems to me at least that life is far more linear here. It's summer, and you're at work, then it's winter, and you're at work, then it's summer again. I'm sure it's a little more complicated than that (I sure hope it is), but that's as close as I've gotten to figuring it out, for now at least. The fact that this country is still sometimes referred to as The Land of The Morning Calm is farcical, a 700 year old nickname that holds far less relevance now than the tourist board like to bestow upon it; from intense work culture to intense drinking culture, "calm" is not a suitable adjective for this place.

Homies

In terms of traversing this country itself, I'm sad to report what most foreign teachers here eventually discover - there's actually not a whole lot to see here. There are plenty of mountains, yes, and if I had to sum up Korea in one image it would be a distant mountain sitting in a haze of fog (with someone taking a selfie and making the peace sign in front of it), but the cities that are squeezed in between them (and mountains make up a whopping 80% of the peninsula's terrain!) look depressingly similar, to the point of being almost indistinguishable from one another. One of the country's dictators, somewhere around the 1980's, decided Korea should look as modern as it was starting to feel, and put great emphasis on urban development. The problem with building all your cities to look super-modern in the 80's and not continuing the development after that, of course, is that by 2016 your cities look distinctly 80's and dated (think UCD arts block or East Germany, not Bowie and black Michael Jackson ). Tourism has only recently been under development here and with the Japanese having destroyed many of the historical sites during one of their famed unlawful occupations, there is very little that separates one city from the next. (After looking at travel itineraries for visiting here, in fact, my parents decided it would be best to spend a few days in Seoul and then go see Japan instead).

The famed Cherry Blossom

Foggy, yes, mountainous, yes. Perfect.

It's been an interesting month for English names at work. All the kids are given an English name they use in their English classes which they will often keep if they ever move to an English-speaking country, which might sound like the arrogant white man refusing to integrate culturally by not learning his students' names, and you're right. But with the high turnover of foreign teachers here it's impractical to try and learn anywhere from 100 to 1000 Jay-Hoons and Gil-Huns and Hyuk-pans.  So we come up with a name for them (and I've been naming them after old school friends, for the most part. There is now a Harry, and a Gordon, and for some reason there were already five Jakes). On occasion the kids will have their own names already, which they won't give up no matter how you try to swing it - so while there's been a girl called "Cake" since I arrived (yes. Cake.), this week I got a boy called Pin and a girl called Pong. I warned her that we say her name in the West when we smell something bad, but she seemed pretty happy with it. At least she's found a good way for me to remember her name.

Kids in Seoul love learning off choreographed dances to perform on the Street. Standard Saturday afternoon in Hongdae. As for the surgical masks, people wear them when they have a sniffle, nothing out of the ordinary. Face mask fashion is pretty interesting though.

Finding my place in the weirdness

My knowledge of philosophy is shoddy at best, but I found myself identifying with existentialism a few years ago, and stuck to it. Nothing has objective value, just the worth you assign to it. And so I set about creating my own meaning, or to quote the great Tim Minchin, "finding meaning where there is none." This echoed in my head a few weeks ago when I met a fellow TEFLer who has been in Korea for five years, is the only person I've met who has learned to speak Korean and struck me as the first English teacher I've met since arriving who seemed content to be here in the long term. Picking his brain on the subject he shrugged and said "either you find something that keeps you here, or you don't". On first view that may sound overly simplistic, but really it's the same point on existentialism - he's managed to create meaning for himself here, so he's content.
It's probably obvious to the majority of people reading these posts that I haven't fallen in love with the country, nor do I plan to stay longer than the 12 months my contract stipulates. That's partly due to Korea, and partly due to the fact that I want to go back to university sooner than I expected to. In spite of this, however, I've very recently noticed myself finding a foothold here, hence the title of the post.
To be sure, I still dislike a lot of things here: the language barrier, the intense work culture, the general conservatism, nationalism, casual racism and homophobia so often on display, the 9 hour time difference between myself and the majority of my friends and family, to name a few. On the other hand, I've started to carve out my own life here, and having finally put winter to bed (though today is -3°), I'm noticing the things I enjoy more and more:

• The friendliness of strangers, who will often try to talk to talk to us in the street or in bars, tell us we're handsome (still getting that "nice small face" compliment) and invite us to drink with them (although the conversation doesn't take long to stall, between their poor English and my non-existent Korean).
• Being surrounded by Koreans, who I generally find to be quite attractive. 
• The pay - though the Won is fluctuating and several hundred euros have been wiped off my salary since last summer - is still pretty good, and a hell of a lot better than it was in Spain.
• Being able to go to Seoul every weekend if I want to, and take advantage of all it has to offer.
• Learning taekwondo (you knew that was coming) several mornings a week before work (got my green belt last week. Come at me bro).
• Getting to snowboard in Pyeongchang - this only happened once, and I wish more than anything that I had known about it earlier in the winter, but like surfing last year it's something I would like to do much more of in the future, if at all possible.

  

  And the food, which is still fantastic

• And, of course, karaoke. How could I forget.
  
  

And if all the above fails to engage you, you can always join the Tefl Drinkers Club.
An insightful morning flyering
The first Wednesday in March marked the first day of the new academic year, and meant we had promotional duties, getting up early to hand out flyers for my hogwon to parents dropping their kids to their first day of school. It ended up being far more informative than I expected, as we saw parents bombarded with merchandise from english academies, study rooms, piano schools, taekwondo classes and math academies, all hoping the parents would sign their kids up for an hour a day, five days a week, for the next 10 years of their child's existence. It gave me an inside view of an entire after-school economy Korea has set up for itself, which appears to employ half my town, from the teachers to the bus drivers whose schedules specifically cater to individual students, shuttling them from one activity to the next until their parents come home later that evening. It's all in the name of helping their child get into the best university on offer, and is the reason I see kids falling dead asleep on their desks every week.
Let's leave it at that, I've already been at my desk too long and Saturday morning awaits. See you soon.

There were some graceless falls, but it was super fun

Drinking, Lunar New Year, Another Confusing Workplace Situation and More Taekwondo Photos (except now my belt is yellow)

Mentioning to people over the year before coming here that I was planning on teaching English in Korea for a stint, the advice I often got was to "watch your drinking while you're there". They weren't wrong. Like most people I try to keep a bit of an eye on my drinking, but since coming here I've kept an eye on it as its become a little too frequent. There are a few reasons for this, and let's start with the one I could put the most blame on, but won't; Koreans drink a lot. I mentioned this before, but it can't be overstated. Koreans drink more recklessly than the Irish. While the Irish often drink with the intention of getting drunk, Koreans drink as if they've forgotten that's what will happen. It's not that they could out-drink us, but rather they will drink until they can't lift their glass any more. Much to my surprise, I've seen far more comatose Koreans on nights out in Seoul than I ever have Irish at home. While the Irish might drink themselves into a stupor, the Koreans drink themselves into unconsciousness (if you want a documentary on it, check Al-Jazeera's recent "South Korea's Hangover" on youtube. At times it appears as if it was put together by interviewers who've never heard of alcohol before, but all in all it gives a fair account). For me though, it's been the TEFL effect rather than the Korea effect.

• There are culture and language barriers here that are hugely isolating. You can't engage with the majority of people you come into contact with on an everyday basis, and a year living here is never going to develop your Korean like a year in Spain will your Spanish.
• Whatever your hobbies were at home, they probably stayed there. While having an English-speaking taekwondo teacher has been a major asset for me, chances are you left your guitar/tennis racquet/football boots/yoga mat/vinyl collection/poi set back where you came from. Where hobbies have left gaps, alcohol can easily become the replacement.
• You need to make new friends. This is usually done by meeting the local expats, more than likely in a bar. Even if they become close friends, there's not a lot of hosting opportunities when you all live in small one-person apartments. Better head back to the bar.
• On that note, a blog I read recently warned against all of your friends being "jaded expats who drink too much". I can assure you they are plentiful.
• Whatever events and festivals might run from spring through autumn, they generally come to an end for the dark, cold months. The bar, though? Yeah, that's still open.
• All the above things can be challenging. When your days are exhausting, you indulge yourself a little more. Have that extra drink. One big difference might be that if you were back home, your support network of friends and family might become aware that you're not your normal self. But if you live in a foreign country where your friend group changes year on year, you might just wake up five years down the road with an alcohol dependency issue and confusion as to where the previous few years have gone.

That's obviously taking things to a bit of an extreme, but I do think it's somewhat characteristic of the TEFL world. I saw it in Spain, and I've seen it in my few months here. And it's obviously not to say anyone who teaches English abroad ends up with a drug or alcohol problem, but it's certainly worth keeping an eye out for.

If you're concerned for my well-being, fear not. Spring arrived this week, winter coats are going back in the closet and adventure plans are underway :)

 Seollal

Lunar New Year, more commonly known as Chinese New Year and known in Korea as Seollal, was last week. While China goes all out for it, with firework displays, dancing 100-man dragons and 15 days of celebration, for Koreans it is a much more subdued affair. As with their other main holiday, Chuseok, Seollal sees businesses close down for three days as most people return to their parents or grandparents house to ring in the new year, with Korean women bemoaning all the cooking they have to do and Korean men not bemoaning all the cooking they don't have to do. As a foreigner here it was much like being in Ireland on Christmas Day if you don't have family - not a huge amount to do other than enjoy the time off with your friends and wait for things to open back up again.

My boss gave me an expensive selection box of assorted meats for Seollal

Another Bizarre Workplace Scenario

One of the teachers at work bought lunch for all the staff two weeks back. What ensued over the week that followed was all the other teachers falling over each other to be the next person to buy coffee or lunch for everyone, lest they be marked as selfish. Which would have been fine, I would have gotten around to it as well if I had been given the chance, but the enjoyment was certainly taken out of the occasion by the head teacher turning to me and saying "you're selfish" every time someone else walked in with something to offer. Eventually I decided the best way to avoid this was to make a reservation - I told everyone I would buy coffee on Friday, and the head teacher seemed satisfied with this. In fact, she was very grateful when I walked in on Friday with coffee for everyone, as if the whole thing had been out of the goodness of my heart. On that same point, don't think about coming into work with something of your own unless you have enough to share with everyone - I've been scolded a few times for arriving at work with a coffee in my hand and not having one for the other nine people I work with. As I said before, live by the group, die by the group.

Taekwondo is where I spend most of my time, so here's another shot. I'll take off the flash next time.

My least exciting post so far

Winter has been going on for a hell of a long time here, and there's more to come. People say that Korea really only has two seasons - winter and summer, which so far seems correct; then again, I'm not sure it could be regarded as any more depressing than an Irish one. Where Ireland gets relatively mild but extremely cloudy and rainy days, Korea has nice, bright, crisp mornings, but it sure knows how to serve them up cold. The cold snap of the last fortnight was sudden and severe, going from -4°c down to -10° over night, and hitting a low of -17° while I was in Seoul over the weekend (with -23° in the east). As with the Irish winter, it encourages people to go directly from home to work and straight back again; while I tried to run by the river through December, being outside at all eventually became something to be avoided whenever possible. In spite of the temperatures a makeshift vegetable market still springs up on my commuting path on Tuesdays, which provides a window into old, rural Korea. Korea's old ladies (known as ajummas) brace the cold to come in early in the morning from their farms, hunkering down to sell their produce and packing with them small stoves over which to boil their kimchi soup lunches. Almost of all them with some level of hunch in their backs (possibly from years of sleeping on floor mats rather than beds), the ajummas juxtapose modern Korea in a interesting way. These women have lived through the Korean War and the several dictatorships and decades of abject poverty that followed, suggesting the cold winds blowing against them at the market aren't much of a threat. They are, perhaps, the last of their generation, as Korea has transitioned in the last 20 years into one of the most technologically advanced and economically prosperous countries in the entire world. I think a lot of my qualms with Korea spring from this fact - it has known wealth and indeed freedom for very little of its history. One sign of this is the rampant consumerism on display. Koreans love to buy. They love new things. Their clothes don't just look clean, they look brand new all the time. Expensive winter coats abound, and indeed the main street in my town makes it look as if their whole economy runs on selling each other sportswear, top-of-the-range smartphones and overpriced coffee. It often reminds me of the depiction of America in the 1950's, from its conservatism to its capitalism. Travel is not something on the agenda of most Koreans, with few of the students or indeed teachers I've met here having ever been outside the country, and the majority of them show little interest in doing so, claiming everywhere else is too dangerous (even Japan, which is famously as safe as Korea). Most use their money to buy more things, and certainly haven't heard of any of the minimalist or experiantialist movements that have taken off in pockets of the West.
I've discussed their hard work ethic before, but I was still surprised and pretty shocked to hear that despite being on winter vacation, most of the kids still go to supervised study all day (not just exam years), with some saying they actually prefer term-time to vacation. The ones suffering under the biggest tiger moms even said they don't get weekends off, with one 12 year old saying "every day is the same. If I don't have school I study. I don't even get Sundays off". When I questioned one of my colleagues on her views on the education system (and indeed 12 hour work days once you leave school) she responded "you should be happy Koreans work so hard. Otherwise you wouldn't have a
job here". That whole situation bothers me quite a lot, and my heart goes out to some of the kids. I could rant on the topic, but you can make up your own mind on it.

They drink out of tiny envelopes instead of paper cups. To quote my friend Brian,
"I would need 50 of those to not be thirsty anymore."

Sorry there aren't any lighthearted anecdotes in this post, my January has been mostly spent avoiding the cold and being a little sick (aside from an unremarkable Grimes gig in Seoul). And for what it's worth, if you find my posts at times ill-informed or presumuptuous, well you're probably right. I'm not here to write a blog and I can only judge based on my own experiences as well as what I hear from those around me. If for some reason you're dying to know more about Korean culture, come visit.
I'm gonna leave it at that. Hopefully spring isn't too far off, there'll be more adventures to be had
and more photos to make the words in between more bearable. 안녕 !

The lights and buzz, and the Korean work/drink culture

Not being home for Christmas was always going to be one of the major hurdles or at least points of note in this adventure. Knowing Christmas isn't much of an event here at all bar one day of public holidays, my plan was to embrace the experience of not really doing it this year, in contrast to it being a centrepiece of our calendar year back home, and the one real chance in the year to catch up with friends from both school and university, given the vast majority of my Irish friends are currently scattered between England, Spain and a few other places. I approached it with a contradictory mixture of intentionally overlooking it most of the time, whilst occasionally dipping in and out of contact with friends to remind myself it was still happening. All in all, it wasn't that difficult to focus on other things, given that we worked every day except for the 25th and it was only the American chain stores here that were doing their job of reminding us of the impending holiday. I got lucky with the year I chose to be here, however, in that Christmas Day (and New Year's, obviously) fell on a Friday, so we had the weekend to enjoy what felt like a small vacation. The day itself was spent mostly in Seoul with friends, acknowledging it would be best to not be alone and turkeyless in my apartment. This worked a charm, and while we brought our own festive cheer, it simply wasn't Christmas with all the shops open. Though I did enjoy the flash mob in Gangnam doing a coordinated dance to a medley of Christmas hits. Friends, family and care packages certainly acted as a nice reminder of what was going on on the other side of the world, which added to the sense of not missing out, but also to the awareness of not being home for it.

Not missing out on the Christmas cheer

Word from home was that my absence was noted given I'm "the one who loves Christmas the most" (which is news to me, though understandable), and while it was an experience worth having, I'd be happy to have it just the once. A friend of mine here said that missing Christmas gets harder every year, and I'd believe it. The novelty of not having it surely wears off after the first go round.
Ringing in New Year in Busan was another novelty, in that most New Years Days are spent festering in a friend's house with a dull hangover, but this one I spent wandering through Korea's biggest fish market, watching eels get skinned alive and live octopus get turned inside out (they're not big on animal welfare here), as well as a less ethically dubious visit to a Buddhist temple.

Visiting a Buddhist temple on NYD

Live to Work, Work to drink

I was at a work dinner last week to celebrate the end of the year, which was a perfect snapshot of Korean drinking culture, as well as work culture. As the evening developed from barbeque to drinking, it was pretty obvious that one of my coworkers would rather be at home or in hospital - she was pretty sick, and heavily sedated, but so keen to not miss out on the work dinner (it would have been a snub to the entire staff, apparently), that she powered through the evening matching us shot for shot, holding one and later both sides of her swollen face, resolute in her decision that illness would not get the best of her (I think the Northern regime would have been impressed). By the time we left, she had tears in her eyes from how much pain she seemed to be in. I don't know enough to say if this is reflective of how any Korean employee would act in that situation, but it does fall into line with what I've been seeing and hearing so far. 

As for the drinking, it's all a very structured affair - given the importance of respect for elders and authority here, the elders or boss controls the pace of drinking for everyone at the table - there's a jug of soju, everyone has shot glasses, and every few minutes a new round is poured which everyone has to join in on. There's no freedom to drink at your own pace; again, everything is dictated by group decisions from the superior, just like how we all leave work at the same time together. On top of all this the younger employees turn away from the boss to drink, as it's seen as disrespectful to face them while drinking. This almost seemed like a dance given the pace the boss was setting. I'll be the first to admit to Ireland's messy drink culture, and I don't claim to not be a part of it. I do feel, however, that it's even worse here. While a night out at home is drenched in alcohol, hopefully conversation or dancing or something else is the centrepiece of the night - here, the alcohol takes centre stage. Little else happens other than drinking - no one leaves the table, everyone watches and waits for the next shot, they're knocked back at an alarming rate until blood alcohol levels resemble a strong cocktail and the streets are awash with vomit in the morning. Amidst all this drinking my boss turned to me and asked me aloud what I thought of my new female colleague who was sitting in between us. She responded to my dropping jaw by saying "maybe after a few more drinks", and refilled my glass. You can make what you will of that scenario, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary here.

It's not your filthy mind, this actually translates as "penis fish". I didn't try it cus I'm...uh...not into chewy foods

Last but not Least
If I've had one great moment here so far, it was on the morning of New Years Eve, when I turned up to taekwondo class to find about 30 Korean kids there, all also hoping to upgrade their belt colour. As a complete novice, you can imagine how silly it made me feel to line up with a bunch of seven year olds to perform the most basic moves to get the yellow belt, all the while being watched by kids and teenagers with red and black belts. Leaving my apprehensions and pride at the door, I had a blast, and getting to watch kids as young as 12 do all sorts of incredible flying/scissor/roundhouse kicks was pretty inspiring. It was by far the most perfectly Asian moment I've had since coming here, and the kids seemed to enjoy having a white boy stumble around in their midst.

You've gotta start somewhere

A briefer and perhaps slightly overdue update

I think from here on out entries to this blog might be briefer and more seldom. During the whirlwind of my first month here it was ideal to have an outlet for acknowledging cultural differences (or, if you will, "how weird is this shit" moments that couldn't be condensed into a snapchat) as well as letting everyone know how I was settling in. Well, I think I've settled now, at least for the time being. I think I've already noticed a lot of the more obvious cultural phenomena here, so it makes sense that I will have less to write about. Also, the more interesting trips will probably have to wait a bit given that we're heading into the depths of winter, for which I really need to buy some boots. Winter is long here and can run into March. We've already had our first significant snow, though I've yet to meet the famously bitter Siberian wind that often touches down here over Winter (the previously-discussed nerd in me thinks it's cool that I'm near enough to Siberia to feel its wind).
Anseong and Routines

Noodles have become a diet staple

As of about a week ago I've started to settle into a comfortable routine here. I've gotten to know the local expat/immigrant crowd (I'm pretty sure the only difference between those two words is both classist and racist), I've moved into a bigger apartment which is infinitely better than my first one, and I've started a taekwondo class. I'm pretty chuffed with the latter as it ticks a lot of boxes - it's a cultural Korean thing, it's physically demanding, it gets me out of bed early two mornings a week, and it's something new to focus and improve on; I think it might end up being one of the main things I take away from this year. I mentioned in an earlier post that I had hoped to getting back into playing live music here, which I had then realised wouldn't happen in a town this size, but the laughable truth is the national obsession with Norebong/Karaoke is taking care of that desire in a lot of ways. While playing in a band requires rehearsal, picking the right songs to suit the group/your voice and several other things, you can just turn up to a private karaoke booth on a Friday night with your mates, fire back a few beers and belt out pretty much any song you want - which as my good friends can guess, is for me almost exclusively hip-hop bangers and the forgotten gems of the 90s. It's a roaring good time and I'd love to see it take off back home too, I think with the right marketing it'd be a real hit (don't steal my idea and make a fortune now). That's it for me then; I'm enjoying myself here.

Creeping up on Asians is my new past time

A few quick points on Korea, in no particular order
Housing and Space
People live in shoe boxes here. My own boss is pretty wealthy but lives in an apartment smaller than the ones we were assigned on-campus when I was in UCD, and that's for her, her husband and her two kids. Asian cities are so overwhelmed with people that this isn't all that surprising. They're pretty stuck for space, and property is incredibly expensive. The cities I've seen so far, including my own town of 100,000, have countless ugly high rise flats on the outskirts of the town where perfectly respectable and well-to-do families have no space whatsoever to their name. Property is so expensive here that people start saving for it and their wedding as soon as they get their first job. And one other thing that surprised me, lots of people here don't sleep in beds. The older generation in particular, but also plenty of younger people, just have a sleeping mat - again, this is no sign of wealth or the lack of it. I thought that was something I would have heard before.
Seeing South Korea as an Island
I accidentally left this out of my post on the DMZ visit, but it was something I had never been aware of until that day. With the North as reclusive as it is, the South is essentially an island off the coast of Asia. You obviously can't pass through the North, and Korea is a peninsula, so all trade and travel must be done via air and sea. This is one of the big reasons some people pine for reunification (while we're on that note, many people are equally against reunification for reasons of having to spend huge money developing the North, were it to fall). If the north opened up its borders, they would be able to join up rail services into China, across Russia and into Europe, which would do wonders for trade, tourism and ease of travel. The most galling thing is they actually built a train line from the South all the way to Pyongyang (capital of the North, but you knew that, right?), which was completed in 2002, but never put in use due to cooling relations with that infamous Kim dynasty. I visited the station. It was new, and clean, and completely empty.

The train that never goes

Military Service
One thing the boys here aren't too happy about is their mandatory 22-month military service which they have to do after high school. The pay is rubbish and there's no way around it save a medical condition. Some of my students had their minds a little bit blown when they found out we didn't have it in Ireland or even the States. Seeing their reactions actually made me wish I hadn't told them. Again, it's something I've always taken for granted, but I'm pretty damn happy I didn't have to spend near on two years in an all-male disciplinary institution when I left school. Instead, I got to fart around and learn a few languages, get a degree and let myself ramble away on a travel blog to my heart's content. It's a good life.
All the best