White Day

          Happy White Day everyone! For those of you who don’t know what White Day is, it is a Korean holiday celebrated on March 14^th, exactly one month after Valentine’s Day. In Korea, it is traditional for girls to give their boyfriend chocolate, etc. on Valentine’s Day. Then, one month later, it’s the guys’ turns. I read somewhere that the guys are suppose to spend three times as much on their girlfriends as was spent on them.

          If you hadn’t already noticed, Korea is a very “couply” country. Relationships are very common, and couples like to celebrate their coupledom by taking an array of couple pictures, wearing matching outfits, etc. Here are some examples (the first couples' shirts say "falling in love, this is my boyfriend/girlfriend," in case you were wondering):

          In case you don’t happen to be in a relationship, never fear, because a month from now, on April 14^th, there is “Black Day.” On this day, single people get together and celebrate their singledom by eating “jajangmyeon,” noodles with black bean sauce. I heard a rumor that this meal is suppose to help you attract members of the opposite sex, but don’t quote me on that.

The End of an Era

We are going through a transition time at school right now. The semester has ended, which was marked by the completion of our Kindergarten musicals, and a graduation ceremony. I was very sad to say goodbye to “my kids,” Salmon Class. I have been spent most of my mornings and early afternoons with them for the past six months. Some shots of them in their graduation gowns (taken in the classroom, with their parents in the background):

Lucy, Sophia, Julia

Eddie, Sonic, Chris

Salmon Class

They have made a lasting impression on me, and I hope that any influence that I’ve had on their young lives has been more positive than negative (which is all I can really hope for, right?). That being said, I’m also excited at the prospect of a new class, and having a fresh start now that I have a much firmer grasp on the art of controlling Korean kindergarteners.

Last week was Spring Break, which meant no Kindergarten, but the teachers still had to come in in the mornings to complete various mindless tasks. Mine was making conversation questions and answers for storybooks. The most challenging books to write ten questions about were the ones that were less than ten words. I just ended up getting a lot of my material from the pictures. (“What is Sally wearing?” “Sally is wearing jeans.”) etc, etc.

Next week, all the classes will be different. Some kids are leaving, new kids are coming, and the ones that are staying will change levels. This is true for both elementary and kindergarten. We have been given very little information about what will be happening text week, in terms of who will be teaching which classes and whatnot. Our school tends not to tell us what is going to happen until it is actually happening. This seems to be a general Korean tendency.

I do, however, know that I will be teaching Lobster Class for kindergarten, which will mainly consist of a class of kids that I taught once a week last semester, Blowfish Class. They are Korean six, which makes them four and five American age. My “sister class,” which I will teach once a day, will be Angelfish Class, the youngest class at EOS. They are two and three American age. They are SO cute, and SOOO small. I taught them once a week last semester and spent a good portion of the time baffling over the fact that these babies were in school, in uniform, sitting at the desk completing phonics worksheets.

Another change that is taking place is that about half of the teachers are leaving. All of the teachers are on a yearlong contract, and it is up to both you and the school whether or not you sign on for another year. There are four new Korean teachers and one new Native Teacher, Leanne, who is also from California. Represent. The new teachers have been observing these past few days and all seem very nice.

And so it goes…I have a little over five months left on my contract, and I’m feeling really positive about the rest of my time in Korea. I have formed some great friendships and have had some unforgettable experiences. With the end in sight, a lot of potential opportunities are presenting themselves and I look forward to seeing where this Asian adventure will take me.

One Shot at the “Good Life”

An article I read last month in The Economist helped me to put my current job in perspective. “The One-Shot Society”* described the education system in South Korea, which places a huge emphasis on college entrance exams. This is because, in South Korea, a degree is required to do pretty much anything, and 100% of parents want their children to go to college. The single set of multiple-choice tests, taken at the end of high school, determine whether or not a student gets into a “good” university, a mediocre university, or any university at all.

In Korea, it is unlikely that one will change jobs, as this is frowned upon. Also, prestigious companies directly recruit from prestigious universities, and promote from within. Therefore, in Korea, one’s life and livelihood is basically determined by the series of tests taken at the end of high school. (Hence, you have parents paying to have native-English-speakers flown across the world to teach their four-year-old the difference between long and short vowels.)

As the article explains, there are benefits and drawbacks, of course, to this system. On one-hand, it is fair and efficient. The test-results are clear and non-negotiable. Also, while wealthy parents can offer their children an advantage with expensive private schooling, they will still have to prove themselves on exam-day, guaranteeing that a child’s success is based on ability instead of legacy. Also, poor yet intelligent and hard-working Koreans are able to rise up in the ranks.

This system has resulted in an extraordinarily high level of education in South Korea. Parents know how important it is to prepare their children for exam day, and go to great lengths to do so. Huge amounts of time and money (Seoul families spend an average of 16% of their income on private tuition) are devoted to a child’s education. Therefore, “The country is pretty much the leading nation in the scoring system run by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). In 2009 it came fourth after Shanghai, Singapore and Hong Kong, but those are cities rather than full-sized countries” (p. 54).

This highly educated populace has in turn fueled a soaring economy. The country was only recently in poverty, and is developing at an astounding rate. “The country has risen from barefoot to broadband since 1960, and last year, despite the global slowdown, its economy grew by 6.2%. In the age of the knowledge economy, education is economic destiny. So the system has had far-reaching and beneficial consequences” (p. 54).

However, there is also a dark-side to the South-Korean miracle. The cons to the education system include a high youth suicide-rate, greater than America’s and twice that of China, which one can imagine to be due to the incredible amount of pressure placed on children by society and their families, 100% of which desire for their child to attend a university. “In one survey a fifth of Korean middle and high school students said they felt tempted to commit suicide. In 2009 a tragic 202 actually did so” (p. 55).

            In addition, due to the high cost of raising children in this society, South Korea is facing a dramatic decline in population. Korean children go an array of private academies, where they practice English, math, science, piano, art, Korean, taekwondo, Chinese, guitar, jump-rope, robotics, etc. Many of these academies cost around $1,000 a month, and some attend quite a few. When I’ve asked them, many of my students have listed five or six. “Parents engage in an educational arms race. Those with only one child can afford higher fees, so they bid up the price of the best hagwon” (p.55). This has resulted in families having much fewer children, in order to be able to devote more resources into the ones that they do have.

“Since 1960 the fertility rate in Korea has fallen faster than nearly anywhere on earth, from six children per woman to 1.15 in 2009” (p. 55). If each Korean woman continues to have only one baby, each generation will be half the size of the one before it. The dramatically shrinking population is a huge problem in Korea, one that has prompted many to rethink the system. While there is much to be said as to what South Korea has achieved as a result of it’s education system, it seems that a change will soon be necessary, so that it's citizens will be offered more than one shot at the "Good Life."

*I have only included some key points from this article. To read the rest of “The One-Shot Society,” published in the December 17^th-30^th edition of The Economist, click here.

In the Land of Morning COLD

Rumor has it that this is the coldest winter that Korea has had in 55 year. I can believe it, it’s freaking cold. As soon as fall hit a few months ago, and I realized it was pretty comparable to winter in San Francisco (which I used to complain about), the feeling of dread set in. When I heard that it could get down to negative temperatures, I couldn’t fully wrap my head around what that would mean in terms of physical sensations, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.

Seoul Weather Forecast

I’d only ever experienced snow when I’d driven for five hours to ride down it on a pair of skis. Now I walk out my front door, and there it is. Everywhere. Pretty, yes, sometimes. But then it gets all gray and slushy, or turns into black ice-blocks of death. Or, I’ll be teaching, and happen to glance out the window, and BOOM, blizzard (not really). “Are we even going to be able to leave? What if we get snowed-in?”

First Snowfall, Yeongtong

I remember the first time, a month or two ago, while walking to catch the bus, when I thought to myself, “so this is what they mean by ‘biting cold.’” It literally bites you, and it hurts. Who knew that air could be so painful? Not I. I’ve found that the best way to deal with it is to go outside as little as possible. I’m hibernating.

Doing anything seems like such an ordeal. First, you have to pile on layer upon layer of insulation until you feel like a snowman. Once outside, I keep my hands jammed deep in my jacket pockets and my eyes towards the ground, to avoid the icy patches, where one can easily slip and break themselves. Once safely inside, sheltered from the elements, the layers must come off again; scarf, jacket, gloves, second pair of socks...Repeat, repeat, repeat. It’s exhausting.

I realize that, coming from California, it’s probably good for me to experience real weather for the first time in my life. I mean, Santa Barbara barely even has seasons, and there is a something nice about watching your surroundings change every few months. But, can we move on to spring already??

The Power of Han

I just started re-reading Etiquette Guide to Korea, which I bought in the US right before my departure and read on the plane. While describing the character and personality of Koreans, the author described an element to their culture known as Han. I don’t remember being very interested in this concept the first time I read this book, but his time it caught my attention. Now that I’ve been here for almost six months, this phenomenon seems to explain some of my observations of Korean culture.

The direct translation of han is “unrequited resentments,” but there is much more to it that that. “Han can be understood to encompass all of the ambitions, emotions, desires, spirit, and intellectual impulses that were prohibited and oppressed from the beginning of the Chosun Dynasty in 1392 until the 1950s. When South Koreans were freed from political oppression, all of these repressed things were released and provided the energy, power, and passion they devoted to creating a modern economy. The power of han has not yet expended itself, and the ferocity, dedication, and diligence with which the people work must be seen to be believed” (De Mente, Etiquette Guide to Korea, p.24-25).

Han is attributed as being the driving force behind South Korea’s incredibly rapid advancement over the past 50 years. It is a powerful part of South Korean culture, resulting from the domination and suppression that they’ve been subjected to throughout their history. Koreans are known for their work ethic, and this work ethic can at least partially be attributed for their economic miracle. Living and working in South Korea, I witness the diligence and the dedication of South Koreans on a daily basis, and it is indeed astounding.

For example, while the native teachers at my school often times stay at work until 7pm, after starting a little after 9am, the Korean teachers almost always stay longer, and come in on Saturdays. My Kindergarteners, who just turned Korean eight, making them six or seven in “international” age, study English for four or five hours a day, five days a week. In addition, some of them have private tutors that come to their house, and many play an instrument or a sport.

While for the children this is, of course, not a voluntary lifestyle, it reflects the work ethic that is expected of them in this culture.  While perhaps not innate, it seems to become ingrained.  This is a work ethic that they must learn to adopt, especially in a collectivist society where your successes and failures are a reflection not only of you, but the people you are interconnected with; your family, friends, and country. A work ethic that could be a result of a sudden freedom, or release, after so many years of suppression, a result of han.

The Other Side of the Rainbow

A couple weeks ago some friends and I discovered a one-of-a-kind hookah-lounge in Gagnam, Seoul called Rainbow (Rainbow Facebook page). It’s a dimly lit room filled with low tables, floor-cushions, a bar, and a DJ booth. If you get there early enough, you can sit in a nest-like loft against the wall. Shoes are removed at the door and placed in a bag, which you bring with you to your table. There are also small, worn lap-blankets available in case you need some extra warmth. Signs on the wall invite you to relax, but warn against getting so deeply relaxed that you fall asleep, which is not allowed.

I would describe the décor as Rasta-theme, but it is also a bit opium-den-like. One of my favorite paintings on the wall (there are many) is an alternative version of the Korean flag; the middle is a peace sign and it’s red, yellow, and green, in true Rasta fashion. There are many marijuana-leaves decorating the walls (and floor), but no marijuana to be smoked, obviously, because we are in Korea. Instead, there are many flavors of hookah, and buckets of alcohol. Well, they are called “buckets,” but they are more like square, glass vases, filled with various cocktail mixtures, and consumed with a straw. There is also a decent selection of wine, and you can get 10% off on Sundays. Needless to say (in true California fashion), this place is awesome!

A glimpse of Rainbow (these pictures are from my camera phone and don’t do it justice):

Madeline, Jacqueline, Rum Bucket

Good Band (forget the name)

Hookah

Towards the end of night on weekends, the music at Rainbow tends to get louder and clubbier, so the vibe becomes less relaxed. However, not to worry, for across the street, only a few steps away, there is another great bar, Woodstock. Woodstock, as the name suggests, is another foreigner-friendly gem in Seoul with good music, a laid-back atmosphere, and reasonably priced drinks. Hooray!

Daddy PTA

I’m behind on blogging, as usual. Time for a recap. Let’s start with Christmas…

My Christmas cheer was dampened by an event that we had at school the week before: Christmas PTA (also known as Daddy PTA). This is basically a Christmas-themed open house for the Kindergarten kids and their dads. Mommy PTA is held over summer. Why is it called PTA? Good question…it isn’t named after the school’s “Parent-Teacher Association,” because there is none…Parent-Teacher Activities? Adventure? Amusement?

We spent weeks leading up to the event teaching the kids Christmas songs and dances to be performed for their daddies. My class did “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and “Feliz Navidad.” There were to be two different nights (Wednesday and Thursday), for different classes.

On the nights of the event, the dads showed up with their kids, decked out in adorable Christmas outfits, around 7pm. In the classroom we made wreaths, shared food, and the kids gave their song and dance performances. There was also dancing and games in the auditorium (led by Gym Teacher), and the kids received presents from Santa (an American friend of one of the Native Teachers).

At these sorts of events, I always feel quite prop-like. We native teachers are told what to where (red or green with Santa hats, and antlers and a Rudolph nose to pose with the kids’ and Santa), where to stand, what to say (“introduce yourself…talk about the program for the evening…then talk about the meaning behind wreath-making” “um…which is…?”), and when to get up on stage and dance (yes, this happened).

Korean dads are for the most part quite shy and don’t speak a lot English. We mainly just tried to make everyone feel comfortable and force as much English out of the kids as possible, to prove to the dads that their money is being put to good use. “Daniel, what are you eating? Is it delicious? Julia, what color glitter would you like? How many beads?”

The event went until 10:30 both nights, and was quite exhausting, but went better than expected. Granted, my co-teacher and I weren’t expecting very good things from Salmon Class, since they tend to be a little crazed, to say the least. But they stayed under control, completed their songs, and spoke some English, so I was pleased.

My favorite part of the night was when Santa asked one of the boys, Eddie, “have you been a good boy this year?” We had practiced responding “Yes, I have been a good boy,” for about thirty minutes in class that morning. However, after thinking it over a bit, her responded “mmm…so-so.” You have to appreciate his honesty, and he still got the top (all the rage in Japan) that he’d been wanting.