it's a saturday afternoon here in the suncheon, south korea and i am exceedingly bored. i have no money, except the little more than i need to get to and from work until the 25th. though i am admittedly financially irresponsible, my current poverty isn't completely my fault. the 25th of every month is the normal payday for us city hall folks. but right now the majority of the my co-workers are on vacation (i'm not going until july because vacation now conflicts with my drama schedule. i know, "drama schedule" sounds very official). because they wanted to have money before they left, we all requested to be paid on the 20th. city hall said it would be fine. actually they told us it would be fine on several different occassions. because i send half of my paycheck home every month anyway, i'm used to have to dip into the change jar for the last couple of days.
on thursday, the 19th at 4:30 in the afternoon we all got an email telling us we weren't getting paid the next day because of budget allocation problems. great. besides the obvious--"being poor blows"--situation, shit like this doesn't inspire great confidence in one's employer. especially because it's happened before. just reinforces what i already believed to be a korean cultural difference: people are so afraid to disappoint or displease that they will say yes to everything out of fear of offending. with megan in chuncheon it was always "i think so." in actuality, here in korea "yes" actually means "maybe."
the only reason i really feel like complaining about this right now is because i'm really bored. i can't even call on my failsafe guilty pleasure, cheese don kass-uh, because it's $4. damn.
yesterday at the library there was an animation festival. just as "yes" is loosely interpreted, so too is the term "festival." when i think of festivals i think of big events with lots o' people, attractions, food, just something generally out of the ordinary that warrants a term to distinguish it from the other quotididan events of everyday life. so our animation festival was 3 short films in the library auditorium. an hour that some families spent time watching our big tv instead of their little ones in the privacy of their homes. regardless, i still sat and watched these cartoons that weren't in english. of the 3 of them, one had english subtitles. it was entertaining enough though.
the best part of all this was before the "festival" began. mr. huh, the same man who sometimes smokes in the children's library, had made a dvd mix to play on the big screen before the films began. so he proudly shoves this dvd in my face so i can give my stamp of approval. i caught a glimpse of the names yanni, ricky martin, and toni braxton before he left the office. a few minutes later he comes back and fetches me so i can come watch his music dvd. so i go sit down in the empty auditorium and the first thing i see on the huge tv is yanni. i've seen pictures of yanni before, which by themselves warrant a certain degree of mockery, or is it awe? i dunno. but i don't know how to even begin to describe yanni "in his element." he was backed by an orchestra--including some chick with a really puffy red dress and shoulder pads--and yanni himself played the organ with one finger the whole time. but man, was he confident! the whole ordeal was a whirl of lion-esqe man hair and molestaches. and yanni looked sort of crazy while he emphatically pumped his fist in the air. it was quite obvious he was "feeling it." whatever "it" was.
during yanni, people began to filter into the auditorium--mostly little kids and their moms, the library's main demographic. after yanni it was time for toni braxton. i don't know where he found the clip, but it was toni braxton singing "unbreak my heart" while wearing a skin-tight white dress. so a bunch of little korean kids got to stare at her nipples, midrif and upper thighs. nice-uh!
after toni braxton came ricky martin and "living la vida loca." at this point, i think it was 7:05 (festival was sposed to start at 7) but mr. huh just wanted to watch his choice cuts for a little longer. in the ricky martin video, some slutty chick was gyrating all over the stage in a thong and some silver fringe bikini top, again, all in full view of the children, magnified on the big screen.
this all just struck me as funny. he was so proud of his "english music dvd." and then not only was the music awful and cheesy, but it was totally inappropriate for an audience of children.
the time has come to raid the piggy bank and go buy a bottle of soju. drinking alone tonight with some dvds about hypnosis. it's going to be an interesting night.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
hardwood
i had to mop the floor of the miracle library. sure brings me back to the era of sunday mornings at shakespeare's, extremely hungover and too poor to scrape together $3 for a cup o' broccoli cheddar soup from panera bread co. the major difference here is that these floors are hardwood, and the mop isn't all threadbare, grey and worthless. it's actually a shiny and new blue mop head, but with not too much water, certainly not enough to actually "clean" anything. in either case, the actual cleaning action was rendered ineffective. and just as i hated slinging brown, grey, chunky water around at shakespeare's, i hate going through the motions here. so, as one might say in the korea, "same same."
there is a cd on a loop in the library, and we're on round two of "ave maria" followed by "think of me, think of me fondly when we say goodnight." a pretty bumpin' mix, i daresay.
there is a cd on a loop in the library, and we're on round two of "ave maria" followed by "think of me, think of me fondly when we say goodnight." a pretty bumpin' mix, i daresay.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
hey another dream, and a new captain
i had many dreams last night. but they all felt interconnected somehow, sans jennifer connelly lesbian action this time. the linking thread last night was joey burns. yup, back to me girling out over calexico man. the last time i saw them in st. louis (2 oblivious korean students in tow), i made a decision that i was no longer going to pine over joey burns as fervently and frequently as i had been for an embarassingly long amount of time. i would have to say my preoccupation (notice, i'm using my words carefully here. don't want to say "obsession." shit, i said it.) ranks up there as one of my longest and most consuming "crushes." boy do i love to use junior high terminology to talk about adult feelings. but honestly, i don't really think about him all too often anymore. i'm afraid this dream changes that a bit.
anyhoo, one of those dreams that seemed to span weeks and months, but then all i can really remember this morning is how good i felt. i almost felt giddy. this coming right on the heels of me marvelling at waking up minus a palpable sense of dread. dreadful to giddy in the span of 2 days! gotta say, i'm pretty impressed by the inner workings of my sleeping/dreaming self this week. but in the dream, it was basically just me and joey burns hanging out. me watching him at a concert, and then us walking. a lot of walking actually. at night, during the day. among people or alone. that's pretty much the gist of it. i know, a disappointingly vague blog about nothing at all really. but it's more about the feeling. my dream self was not at all awkward, was not red-faced, did not stammer whilst inspecting my feet. i guess my dream self also wasn't doing much talking.
but of course it makes me think back to the first time i met senor burns in columbia. i didn't really know much about him, just thought he was a hot older man. heh heh. the part about being in a band opening for wilco didn't hurt either. despite that, i was still able to be charmingly engaging, at least for a little while. but even that didn't last the whole night. after the few hours it took me to realize just how great and genuine (and fucking hot) this complete stranger was, all my charm and dry wit were gone. and i don't feel like i've ever gotten back to that completely comfortable place, sitting on the curb in front of the blue note, naive to the impending grip this complete stranger would have on me, for the most part unbeknownst to him.
and this isn't just with him in particular, but with complete strangers in general. the whole idea of making platonic friends or, better yet more than platonic friends--starting any sort of relationship of actual substance--just seems so far out of my realm of possibility. those first few meetings when you're willing to push beyond the awkardness because there might be something worth it in the long run. i think i probably sell myself short on the friendship part of this, sheerly for the sake of melodrama, but it's the other meaningful relationships, or lack thereof, that have me worried. and i'll argue that i don't like putting in the work, but i think it's something beyond that. some weird form of autism that only makes me socially awkard towards people with whom i actually want to socialize.
but back to the dream. i felt great. every time i think of joey burns, i feel great. i even blush now in the privacy of my own secluded apartment in south korea. it's bizarre, really, that he still has this effect on me. i don't know if it makes it better or worse that my simple life in suncheon is completely removed from his radar. and is it better or worse that this whole obsession is a just a little bit pathetic. damn dream....
got a new captain at maegokdong. don't know exactly what that job post entails, but i could swear i met another new captain last week. out with the not so old, in with the newer-est! it just so happened to be the new captain's birfday today, so we all gathered to eat cake and rice things. there were also oranges, which i think my captain was saying were better than american oranges, because they were from jeju. yup, you've probably tried all the oranges in america. it was also pretty damn funny to hear them ask each other how to say oh-rahn-jee in english. i was sort of ushered up to the front of the table to tower over the captain, so i stood there while all my co-workers stared at me expectantly. then they told me to sing, so i hammed it up and sang happy birthday to this new complete stranger, in the company of a bunch of other almost complete strangers, including one woman who blinks incessantly. just seemed worth mentioning. but i said "happy birthday, dear captain" instead of the standard korean "happy birthday, dear my friend." well, i thought it was funny.
a note about my new captain. as i sat next to him, i was fixated on this solitary black hair protruding from his right nostril. this hair didn't appear to have any companions and seemed out of place as a result. i really couldn't stop staring at it though. made me wonder "how the fuck could you not notice that black thing hanging out of your nose when you looked in the mirror this morning?" i have pretty furry arms, and it was at least as long as one of my arm hairs.
anyhoo, one of those dreams that seemed to span weeks and months, but then all i can really remember this morning is how good i felt. i almost felt giddy. this coming right on the heels of me marvelling at waking up minus a palpable sense of dread. dreadful to giddy in the span of 2 days! gotta say, i'm pretty impressed by the inner workings of my sleeping/dreaming self this week. but in the dream, it was basically just me and joey burns hanging out. me watching him at a concert, and then us walking. a lot of walking actually. at night, during the day. among people or alone. that's pretty much the gist of it. i know, a disappointingly vague blog about nothing at all really. but it's more about the feeling. my dream self was not at all awkward, was not red-faced, did not stammer whilst inspecting my feet. i guess my dream self also wasn't doing much talking.
but of course it makes me think back to the first time i met senor burns in columbia. i didn't really know much about him, just thought he was a hot older man. heh heh. the part about being in a band opening for wilco didn't hurt either. despite that, i was still able to be charmingly engaging, at least for a little while. but even that didn't last the whole night. after the few hours it took me to realize just how great and genuine (and fucking hot) this complete stranger was, all my charm and dry wit were gone. and i don't feel like i've ever gotten back to that completely comfortable place, sitting on the curb in front of the blue note, naive to the impending grip this complete stranger would have on me, for the most part unbeknownst to him.
and this isn't just with him in particular, but with complete strangers in general. the whole idea of making platonic friends or, better yet more than platonic friends--starting any sort of relationship of actual substance--just seems so far out of my realm of possibility. those first few meetings when you're willing to push beyond the awkardness because there might be something worth it in the long run. i think i probably sell myself short on the friendship part of this, sheerly for the sake of melodrama, but it's the other meaningful relationships, or lack thereof, that have me worried. and i'll argue that i don't like putting in the work, but i think it's something beyond that. some weird form of autism that only makes me socially awkard towards people with whom i actually want to socialize.
but back to the dream. i felt great. every time i think of joey burns, i feel great. i even blush now in the privacy of my own secluded apartment in south korea. it's bizarre, really, that he still has this effect on me. i don't know if it makes it better or worse that my simple life in suncheon is completely removed from his radar. and is it better or worse that this whole obsession is a just a little bit pathetic. damn dream....
got a new captain at maegokdong. don't know exactly what that job post entails, but i could swear i met another new captain last week. out with the not so old, in with the newer-est! it just so happened to be the new captain's birfday today, so we all gathered to eat cake and rice things. there were also oranges, which i think my captain was saying were better than american oranges, because they were from jeju. yup, you've probably tried all the oranges in america. it was also pretty damn funny to hear them ask each other how to say oh-rahn-jee in english. i was sort of ushered up to the front of the table to tower over the captain, so i stood there while all my co-workers stared at me expectantly. then they told me to sing, so i hammed it up and sang happy birthday to this new complete stranger, in the company of a bunch of other almost complete strangers, including one woman who blinks incessantly. just seemed worth mentioning. but i said "happy birthday, dear captain" instead of the standard korean "happy birthday, dear my friend." well, i thought it was funny.
a note about my new captain. as i sat next to him, i was fixated on this solitary black hair protruding from his right nostril. this hair didn't appear to have any companions and seemed out of place as a result. i really couldn't stop staring at it though. made me wonder "how the fuck could you not notice that black thing hanging out of your nose when you looked in the mirror this morning?" i have pretty furry arms, and it was at least as long as one of my arm hairs.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
daejeon, south korea. population 1.5 million. other stuff
Today is the first day in a long time that I haven’t felt overwhelmed by work or irritable because of it. My plays are written, which takes a huge load of stress away. I really can’t explain how startling it is (because of its infrequency) to wake up and not dread the rest of my day. Not that this happens a lot, but it has happened more than I would have cared to experience in recent memory—spurred on by the thought of drama class at the library or scrambling around on a Tuesday/Thursday at maegokdong not having enough copies for all the random students who may or may not show up on that particular day. I really like the idea of the free community center classes, but sometimes the reality doesn’t match up with the ideal (I suppose that’s how most realities are though). I don’t even take a lunch break at maegokdong because I have to spend that whole time making copies. Yeah, I know. Wah wah wah. It would just be easier if peeps could buy books. Then I could spend my time coming up with fun things to do instead of using a copy machine for an hour and a half.
Took a sick day yesterday, not because I was really very sick (a mild cold), but because I needed the time to just breathe for one minute, or for the many minutes that constitute a whole 24 hours. It was a highly unproductive day: watching tv, dicking around on the newly installed internet, downloading music. And a nap. You can’t have a sick day and not take a nap. And so I returned to the miracle library today for 3 hours of storytelling. Relatively stress free, but these days, even my kids that I used to really really like have turned into whiny, selfish, annoying children. It concerns me more when people are annoying than when they are assholes. Even with kids. If you’re annoying, you can’t really fix that. You can’t not be annoying if you have already displayed some inherently annoying traits. But you can fake being nice when you’re actually an asshole. One of my greatest fears in life is that anyone will think I’m annoying. That damage is irreversible.
Weekend shenanigans. Friday night, made the usual rounds—juliana’s, then ladies’ night, then juliana’s again. I knew there would come a time when the same bar every weekend got old. I think that happened a while ago but I’m just now admitting it. But I played darts—I am a very bad “dartist”—and drank until 3 am. As per usual. What are we without our routines? Doesn’t mean we like or dislike them. Maybe that’s exactly what is bad about some routines, they’re inconspicuous and subtle, neither blatantly good or bad, but they still manage to maintain a grip on our lives. Compounded by the sort of sinking feeling that we only fully acknowledge and own in melodramatic retrospect. I think I’m probably the queen of that. But it’s a feeling I get a lot but can’t pinpoint (unless I’ve had a good day, apparently), the mulling over of wasting time and wasted time. even my lamentations over wasted/lost time due to routine are part of my routine. Along with coffee and chocolate for breakfast. I digress.
back to weekend festivities. next day, erica and I had plans to go to a festival in daejeon (another large city here. 1.5 million peeps). I woke up at 9 am to my alarm because the internet man was sposed to come get me set up. at 11 he was still a no show. so I got stood up by the internet man. What the fuck? Plus I was slightly hungover. I would not have volunteered myself to wake up at 9 am on a Saturday, were there not some sort of obligation (he came again on Monday, so now I have home internet. I also got $120 in gift cards to emart for no apparent reason. Assah!).
Anyhoo, met erica and went to the train station, where we were 2 very popular people. She saw some of her students, I saw a student of mine. And then I saw my “helper” from my Monday drama class. I was praying the library hadn’t told her I thought she was a shitty helper yet. Me, my library co-workers and my city hall supervisor had a meeting last week to discuss her flaws. They said they’d let her know her services were no longer required. What I’ve found though, is that there’s really not the protocol of letting one down gently over here. I found that out with the whole creepy pervy guy situation at haeryeongmyun. They didn’t make up some lie to avoid hurting his feelings or embrarassing him in front of his colleagues, they just told him exactly what I said about him. Made things a little awkward. So I’m hoping to avoid that situation here.
But I’m trying to talk to her at the train station, and she couldn’t even adequately express in english where she was going or what she was doing. Yikes. So we board the train and erica’s student and family are sitting right next to us. They immediately start feeding us cookies and drinks. And then my phone starts to ring. As I answer it, the snack man is handing us oranges. My helper is on the phone telling me they’re from her, but It really is just her saying “ger, ger.” The korean equivalent of “uh” seems to be “ger.” I hear it a lot when my students are struggling to form their english phrases. But I made the connection and thanked her. A note about the snack cart on a korean train. Very similar to a snack cart you might see on any other train or mode of public transportation boasting a snack cart, but the top shelf of this snack cart had all sorts of tentacles poking out from amidst the other standard snack fare. Random, but at the movies, you can enjoy popcorn or chocolate or hot buttered squid.
I really enjoyed taking the train this time. I’m used to being on hot buses for long periods of time, having almost but not quite enough room for my legs. Plus, it’s nice to pee when you need to.
we arrived in daejeon on Saturday afternoon, and tried to find a motel. ended up far away from the places we planned on going to (thanks to a janky lonely planet map). Our love motel was run by a family—wife, husband, 2 sons. We go up to the desk to inquire about a room, and see a little pair of legs stick out from behind the sliding partition—two young brothers playfully fighting on the floor of their apartment, in a building that promotes infidelity and one night stands. I wonder if they were still young enough to be oblivious to the sins motivating most of the people coming and going from their “home.” Weird to think that prostitution feeds the family, clothes them, pays for their hakwons. I guess a mother has to make a living somehow, and running a love motel sure beats utilizing one for “entertainment.” After settling at the love palace, opted against a ballet in favor of eating some swine. Delicious swine.
What I’ve learned from travelling with erica on several occassions now is that she doesn’t take the easy way out as far as getting around in the city, be it familiar or unfamiliar. Though it would always be easiest to just hop in a taxi and go somewhere, she’s a firm believer in using public transportation wherever she goes. Most of the time that means deciphering the city bus system/schedule. And I just think that’s really cool, to understate it a bit. If I were alone, I would have spent lots of money, but not a lot of effort, on just taking taxis wherever I wanted to go. I think erica’s methodology is much more useful. Makes you more self-sufficient and gives you a better mental layout of the city. And I’m sure map navigation skills are going to be invaluable should I ever end up on the amazing race
That said, we took a bus to a downtown-ish area (not sure where the main downtown is in a large city…) and wandered for a while looking for a place to eat. Again, lonely planet gave some vague instructions on where to find a good restaurant. We were in the area, but gave up before we found the specific restaurant. Same thing later when we were looking for the elusive “murphy’s bar.” A place only special because it was rumored to serve guinness and we couldn’t find it. 2 things that made us keep searching longer than necessary. If you put in the time and confusion, you don’t want to give up before you find what you’re looking for. But we asked for directions at several family marts, 711s and mini stops. We were about to give up when we came to the last family mart. Each time before entering we tried to size up the counter person—is that person a hip, young beer drinker. Is that person even old enough to drink? The last woman looked mean, but at least old enough. She also had two large (by korean standards) dogs that didn’t necessarily look nice behind the counter with her. I’m sure there’s a health code violation in there somewhere. Anyhoo, she actually was the most helpful, because she directed us not to murphy’s bar but to an adequate substitute, as it had live music. The concept of “live music” in korea is always an interesting one. You never quite know what that means.
On the 9th floor of a high rise building across the street lay the “kenny g” bar. While every other floor of this tall building was dark and lifeless, lo and behold kenny g was lit up like a christmas tree (indeed, with christmas lights), a beacon of sorts luring us up into the unknown.
I regret not taking a picture of “kenny g” written in hangul.
When we got to the 9th floor, the doors opened and there was a greeter at the bar entrance. Honestly, this was one of the nicest and cleanest places I’ve been—bar or otherwise—my whole time in korea. So we walk in and the room is huge. We are the only people there, besides the three korean women and 3 filipino singers. There was a disco ball for lighting and the chairs and tables all looked brand new, adorned with red and blue stars. To complement the furnishings were several large kenny g posters (some of which looked as though they had morphed into mini-shrines). On the wall behind the stage was “kenny g” written in red, cursive letters—this stamp and the posters all displayed in an ironic attempt to lend credibility to a bar that already seemed more impressive than any other I’ve been to in this country.
We sat for a long time waiting for someone to start singing. The stage was set, but we were still the only peeps there. But eventually, 3 filipino singers took the stage. 2 women and one small man. The man played keyboards, sang and ran the other pre-recorded background music. The women sang and did cute little syncronized dances together. And it was awesome. They said they were happy to get to sing their english songs, as most of the time the korean demographic didn’t allow for that. So they sang “crush”, “englishman in new york”, “eternal flame”, etc. all in three part harmony, and all three of them had really pleasant voices. It was just nice. After they finished singing, they came and sat at our table. We took pictures together and chatted it up. apparently they’ve been doing this (not just in korea) for a really long time, moving from bar to bar. They speak english, korean and filipino and were probably too nice to us. The next day I got an email with our pictures taken that night from the ringleader of the group. So lonely planet was 0 for 2—no restaurant, no murphy’s bar—but erica and I were both pleased with where we randomly ended up that night.
Right now in the library there are 3 little boys standing against the wall, arms in the air as they fight off tears. I don’t know what they did, but they’re in trouble. If only I could get them to do that in the classroom…
Saturday morning we got up and checked out of our motel. It was some sort of festival day. Erica had heard from a semi-reliable source about a flower festival in a large park in daejeon. So we went to a large park in daejeon. Alas, we did not find a flower festival, but we did find really nice trails, a creepy old guy with a towel on his head who followed us, and pirated dvds for $3. all in all, a good day.
When we got to the park, we noticed that there weren’t really too many flowers or blossoming trees that might warrant some sort of festival. But we were there, it was a beautiful day and we decided to embrace the surroundings. The mountain itself was beautiful, with well-kempt trails and wooden walkways. There were some small waterfalls, and we climbed a miniscule peak that kicked both our asses. I was thoroughly impressed with erica though. She was wearing ballet flats and I was wearing running shoes, and we both managed to make it to the top of an almost vertical trail. The length of the trail was relatively short, but it was just straight up. here, where it is most important that the trail be in good shape, it was so crappy and rocky and uneven. But have no fear, there’s this limp rope off to the side should you lose your footing. The whole time we’re climbing up this peak, people coming down and going up are looking at erica’s feet telling her that her shoes aren’t good for climbing mountains. And of course they are the authorities, decked out in head to toe north face gear—replete with walking sticks, backpacks, gloves, etc. anything and everything that can show off a brand name is absolutely essential for a 1.8 kilometer hike in the springtime. I am sad to say I didn’t see any crampons or rapelling gear. Maybe next time.
Anyhoo, even after we had made it to the top, just like everyone else, people were still commenting on her shoes. Maybe it’s just me, but I think lipliner and full makeup are just as inappropriate for a mountain, but I didn’t see/hear anyone giving the agimas shit. People can be so nosy. It’s no one’s business what shoes we wear. And even if they think we’re unprepared for mountain climbing, said unpreparedness doesn’t mean we’re idiots, though they can sure make you feel otherwise, even when you don’t speak much korean. It was during our descent that we picked up the old guy with a towel on his head. At first he seemed harmless, taking pictures of us, taking pictures with us. But then he started making lots of grunting noises and commented on erica’s t-shirt (it had russian letters on it. Here, if someone asks you “are you russian?” it usually means “how much do you cost?” so erica was justifiably paranoid). Whenever we stopped, he stopped. And he followed us the whole way down when he could have easily passed us. When we got to a flat spot, we walked as fast as we could away from him. On the way out of the park, there were all sorts of people selling random things: pears, bags, pirated dvds. So I got the departed and borat for $3 each. Ni-suh.
Post mountain, decided to kill time at starbucks. Then we decided we still had time to kill after already killing time, so we went to an art museum. It apparently was a brand new art museum, all the obligatory gifts of flowers still prominently displayed near the entrance. I really like museums, even if I don’t “get” art most of the time. But there was really something laughable about a lot of the crap in this place. For starters, it was all korean artists (hey, that’s cool. whatever). but one of the major topics was dokdo. yup, that tiny little island that didn’t matter to japan or to korea until they decided it was a good idea to fight over it. But apparently it was this one dude’s muse. So lots of paintings inspired by dokdo. Not that this in itself is even laughable. But one of the paintings had “I [heart shape] Dokdo” written on it, finger paint style. Part of what I like about art and art museums is the inherent air of pretension and snootiness. It’s fun to have a whole environment that compells you to act “sophisticated.” And then there’s a heart shape on the painting. For serious? What a ruiner. way to shatter the façade by being a little too earnest in your dokdo love. Arte es vida, dudes.
So we left the museum and headed back to the train station. On the way back a man fell asleep on the back of my chair, his arm squishing my hair. Prior to his dozing, he had been singing to himself and just generally muttering crazily. After we transferred trains, I made a 3 or 4 year old Korean friend. He saw me eating the last piece of my chocolate and stuck his hand on my leg, asking for some of it. Then he wandered up and down the aisles coming to talk to me each time. He saw Erica sleeping and asked me what she was, not who she was. So that was funny. I told him she was an alien. But I don’t know how to say that in Korean, so I really just told him she was a foreign person.
Monday in my drama class, my helper (the one from the train station) wasn’t there, and miraculously the kids were little angels. My library chingu came in and yelled at them the whole time and then they actually sat still for about an hour and a half of the 2 hour class. No luging down the wheelchair ramp. Holy shit. Now that’s amazing.
Um, I guess that’s all. The thought of having to wait until july to take my vacation is getting me down. Most of the other city hall peeps are leaving next weekend. Of course it’s worth it to wait—2 whole weeks with jules and rory—but still. there are always festivals in the area to get my mind off the suncheon routine. A trip to busan is tentatively in the works. which means I’ll decide on a Friday to go the next day.
Took a sick day yesterday, not because I was really very sick (a mild cold), but because I needed the time to just breathe for one minute, or for the many minutes that constitute a whole 24 hours. It was a highly unproductive day: watching tv, dicking around on the newly installed internet, downloading music. And a nap. You can’t have a sick day and not take a nap. And so I returned to the miracle library today for 3 hours of storytelling. Relatively stress free, but these days, even my kids that I used to really really like have turned into whiny, selfish, annoying children. It concerns me more when people are annoying than when they are assholes. Even with kids. If you’re annoying, you can’t really fix that. You can’t not be annoying if you have already displayed some inherently annoying traits. But you can fake being nice when you’re actually an asshole. One of my greatest fears in life is that anyone will think I’m annoying. That damage is irreversible.
Weekend shenanigans. Friday night, made the usual rounds—juliana’s, then ladies’ night, then juliana’s again. I knew there would come a time when the same bar every weekend got old. I think that happened a while ago but I’m just now admitting it. But I played darts—I am a very bad “dartist”—and drank until 3 am. As per usual. What are we without our routines? Doesn’t mean we like or dislike them. Maybe that’s exactly what is bad about some routines, they’re inconspicuous and subtle, neither blatantly good or bad, but they still manage to maintain a grip on our lives. Compounded by the sort of sinking feeling that we only fully acknowledge and own in melodramatic retrospect. I think I’m probably the queen of that. But it’s a feeling I get a lot but can’t pinpoint (unless I’ve had a good day, apparently), the mulling over of wasting time and wasted time. even my lamentations over wasted/lost time due to routine are part of my routine. Along with coffee and chocolate for breakfast. I digress.
back to weekend festivities. next day, erica and I had plans to go to a festival in daejeon (another large city here. 1.5 million peeps). I woke up at 9 am to my alarm because the internet man was sposed to come get me set up. at 11 he was still a no show. so I got stood up by the internet man. What the fuck? Plus I was slightly hungover. I would not have volunteered myself to wake up at 9 am on a Saturday, were there not some sort of obligation (he came again on Monday, so now I have home internet. I also got $120 in gift cards to emart for no apparent reason. Assah!).
Anyhoo, met erica and went to the train station, where we were 2 very popular people. She saw some of her students, I saw a student of mine. And then I saw my “helper” from my Monday drama class. I was praying the library hadn’t told her I thought she was a shitty helper yet. Me, my library co-workers and my city hall supervisor had a meeting last week to discuss her flaws. They said they’d let her know her services were no longer required. What I’ve found though, is that there’s really not the protocol of letting one down gently over here. I found that out with the whole creepy pervy guy situation at haeryeongmyun. They didn’t make up some lie to avoid hurting his feelings or embrarassing him in front of his colleagues, they just told him exactly what I said about him. Made things a little awkward. So I’m hoping to avoid that situation here.
But I’m trying to talk to her at the train station, and she couldn’t even adequately express in english where she was going or what she was doing. Yikes. So we board the train and erica’s student and family are sitting right next to us. They immediately start feeding us cookies and drinks. And then my phone starts to ring. As I answer it, the snack man is handing us oranges. My helper is on the phone telling me they’re from her, but It really is just her saying “ger, ger.” The korean equivalent of “uh” seems to be “ger.” I hear it a lot when my students are struggling to form their english phrases. But I made the connection and thanked her. A note about the snack cart on a korean train. Very similar to a snack cart you might see on any other train or mode of public transportation boasting a snack cart, but the top shelf of this snack cart had all sorts of tentacles poking out from amidst the other standard snack fare. Random, but at the movies, you can enjoy popcorn or chocolate or hot buttered squid.
I really enjoyed taking the train this time. I’m used to being on hot buses for long periods of time, having almost but not quite enough room for my legs. Plus, it’s nice to pee when you need to.
we arrived in daejeon on Saturday afternoon, and tried to find a motel. ended up far away from the places we planned on going to (thanks to a janky lonely planet map). Our love motel was run by a family—wife, husband, 2 sons. We go up to the desk to inquire about a room, and see a little pair of legs stick out from behind the sliding partition—two young brothers playfully fighting on the floor of their apartment, in a building that promotes infidelity and one night stands. I wonder if they were still young enough to be oblivious to the sins motivating most of the people coming and going from their “home.” Weird to think that prostitution feeds the family, clothes them, pays for their hakwons. I guess a mother has to make a living somehow, and running a love motel sure beats utilizing one for “entertainment.” After settling at the love palace, opted against a ballet in favor of eating some swine. Delicious swine.
What I’ve learned from travelling with erica on several occassions now is that she doesn’t take the easy way out as far as getting around in the city, be it familiar or unfamiliar. Though it would always be easiest to just hop in a taxi and go somewhere, she’s a firm believer in using public transportation wherever she goes. Most of the time that means deciphering the city bus system/schedule. And I just think that’s really cool, to understate it a bit. If I were alone, I would have spent lots of money, but not a lot of effort, on just taking taxis wherever I wanted to go. I think erica’s methodology is much more useful. Makes you more self-sufficient and gives you a better mental layout of the city. And I’m sure map navigation skills are going to be invaluable should I ever end up on the amazing race
That said, we took a bus to a downtown-ish area (not sure where the main downtown is in a large city…) and wandered for a while looking for a place to eat. Again, lonely planet gave some vague instructions on where to find a good restaurant. We were in the area, but gave up before we found the specific restaurant. Same thing later when we were looking for the elusive “murphy’s bar.” A place only special because it was rumored to serve guinness and we couldn’t find it. 2 things that made us keep searching longer than necessary. If you put in the time and confusion, you don’t want to give up before you find what you’re looking for. But we asked for directions at several family marts, 711s and mini stops. We were about to give up when we came to the last family mart. Each time before entering we tried to size up the counter person—is that person a hip, young beer drinker. Is that person even old enough to drink? The last woman looked mean, but at least old enough. She also had two large (by korean standards) dogs that didn’t necessarily look nice behind the counter with her. I’m sure there’s a health code violation in there somewhere. Anyhoo, she actually was the most helpful, because she directed us not to murphy’s bar but to an adequate substitute, as it had live music. The concept of “live music” in korea is always an interesting one. You never quite know what that means.
On the 9th floor of a high rise building across the street lay the “kenny g” bar. While every other floor of this tall building was dark and lifeless, lo and behold kenny g was lit up like a christmas tree (indeed, with christmas lights), a beacon of sorts luring us up into the unknown.
I regret not taking a picture of “kenny g” written in hangul.
When we got to the 9th floor, the doors opened and there was a greeter at the bar entrance. Honestly, this was one of the nicest and cleanest places I’ve been—bar or otherwise—my whole time in korea. So we walk in and the room is huge. We are the only people there, besides the three korean women and 3 filipino singers. There was a disco ball for lighting and the chairs and tables all looked brand new, adorned with red and blue stars. To complement the furnishings were several large kenny g posters (some of which looked as though they had morphed into mini-shrines). On the wall behind the stage was “kenny g” written in red, cursive letters—this stamp and the posters all displayed in an ironic attempt to lend credibility to a bar that already seemed more impressive than any other I’ve been to in this country.
We sat for a long time waiting for someone to start singing. The stage was set, but we were still the only peeps there. But eventually, 3 filipino singers took the stage. 2 women and one small man. The man played keyboards, sang and ran the other pre-recorded background music. The women sang and did cute little syncronized dances together. And it was awesome. They said they were happy to get to sing their english songs, as most of the time the korean demographic didn’t allow for that. So they sang “crush”, “englishman in new york”, “eternal flame”, etc. all in three part harmony, and all three of them had really pleasant voices. It was just nice. After they finished singing, they came and sat at our table. We took pictures together and chatted it up. apparently they’ve been doing this (not just in korea) for a really long time, moving from bar to bar. They speak english, korean and filipino and were probably too nice to us. The next day I got an email with our pictures taken that night from the ringleader of the group. So lonely planet was 0 for 2—no restaurant, no murphy’s bar—but erica and I were both pleased with where we randomly ended up that night.
Right now in the library there are 3 little boys standing against the wall, arms in the air as they fight off tears. I don’t know what they did, but they’re in trouble. If only I could get them to do that in the classroom…
Saturday morning we got up and checked out of our motel. It was some sort of festival day. Erica had heard from a semi-reliable source about a flower festival in a large park in daejeon. So we went to a large park in daejeon. Alas, we did not find a flower festival, but we did find really nice trails, a creepy old guy with a towel on his head who followed us, and pirated dvds for $3. all in all, a good day.
When we got to the park, we noticed that there weren’t really too many flowers or blossoming trees that might warrant some sort of festival. But we were there, it was a beautiful day and we decided to embrace the surroundings. The mountain itself was beautiful, with well-kempt trails and wooden walkways. There were some small waterfalls, and we climbed a miniscule peak that kicked both our asses. I was thoroughly impressed with erica though. She was wearing ballet flats and I was wearing running shoes, and we both managed to make it to the top of an almost vertical trail. The length of the trail was relatively short, but it was just straight up. here, where it is most important that the trail be in good shape, it was so crappy and rocky and uneven. But have no fear, there’s this limp rope off to the side should you lose your footing. The whole time we’re climbing up this peak, people coming down and going up are looking at erica’s feet telling her that her shoes aren’t good for climbing mountains. And of course they are the authorities, decked out in head to toe north face gear—replete with walking sticks, backpacks, gloves, etc. anything and everything that can show off a brand name is absolutely essential for a 1.8 kilometer hike in the springtime. I am sad to say I didn’t see any crampons or rapelling gear. Maybe next time.
Anyhoo, even after we had made it to the top, just like everyone else, people were still commenting on her shoes. Maybe it’s just me, but I think lipliner and full makeup are just as inappropriate for a mountain, but I didn’t see/hear anyone giving the agimas shit. People can be so nosy. It’s no one’s business what shoes we wear. And even if they think we’re unprepared for mountain climbing, said unpreparedness doesn’t mean we’re idiots, though they can sure make you feel otherwise, even when you don’t speak much korean. It was during our descent that we picked up the old guy with a towel on his head. At first he seemed harmless, taking pictures of us, taking pictures with us. But then he started making lots of grunting noises and commented on erica’s t-shirt (it had russian letters on it. Here, if someone asks you “are you russian?” it usually means “how much do you cost?” so erica was justifiably paranoid). Whenever we stopped, he stopped. And he followed us the whole way down when he could have easily passed us. When we got to a flat spot, we walked as fast as we could away from him. On the way out of the park, there were all sorts of people selling random things: pears, bags, pirated dvds. So I got the departed and borat for $3 each. Ni-suh.
Post mountain, decided to kill time at starbucks. Then we decided we still had time to kill after already killing time, so we went to an art museum. It apparently was a brand new art museum, all the obligatory gifts of flowers still prominently displayed near the entrance. I really like museums, even if I don’t “get” art most of the time. But there was really something laughable about a lot of the crap in this place. For starters, it was all korean artists (hey, that’s cool. whatever). but one of the major topics was dokdo. yup, that tiny little island that didn’t matter to japan or to korea until they decided it was a good idea to fight over it. But apparently it was this one dude’s muse. So lots of paintings inspired by dokdo. Not that this in itself is even laughable. But one of the paintings had “I [heart shape] Dokdo” written on it, finger paint style. Part of what I like about art and art museums is the inherent air of pretension and snootiness. It’s fun to have a whole environment that compells you to act “sophisticated.” And then there’s a heart shape on the painting. For serious? What a ruiner. way to shatter the façade by being a little too earnest in your dokdo love. Arte es vida, dudes.
So we left the museum and headed back to the train station. On the way back a man fell asleep on the back of my chair, his arm squishing my hair. Prior to his dozing, he had been singing to himself and just generally muttering crazily. After we transferred trains, I made a 3 or 4 year old Korean friend. He saw me eating the last piece of my chocolate and stuck his hand on my leg, asking for some of it. Then he wandered up and down the aisles coming to talk to me each time. He saw Erica sleeping and asked me what she was, not who she was. So that was funny. I told him she was an alien. But I don’t know how to say that in Korean, so I really just told him she was a foreign person.
Monday in my drama class, my helper (the one from the train station) wasn’t there, and miraculously the kids were little angels. My library chingu came in and yelled at them the whole time and then they actually sat still for about an hour and a half of the 2 hour class. No luging down the wheelchair ramp. Holy shit. Now that’s amazing.
Um, I guess that’s all. The thought of having to wait until july to take my vacation is getting me down. Most of the other city hall peeps are leaving next weekend. Of course it’s worth it to wait—2 whole weeks with jules and rory—but still. there are always festivals in the area to get my mind off the suncheon routine. A trip to busan is tentatively in the works. which means I’ll decide on a Friday to go the next day.
Monday, April 02, 2007
the fir-irst no-o-el...
there's a totally pimped out version of "the first noel" on a loop of sorts here in ye olde pc bong. don't know why i always feel the qualify things as "ye olde." i guess if just makes me feel good. makes me want to eat a big turkey leg at a renaissance festival, minus all those weird people who go to renaissance festivals. the carol sounds like mariah carey, but korean-ified. whatever that means.
i had a relatively uneventful weekend. some reading, some korean verb conjugating, some imbibing, an odd lesbian sex dream (i guess only odd in that i had it in the first place), and soccer. these, of course, in no particular order.
i'll start with the reading portion pf the recap. after reading what is the what, i was skeptical, believing that anything i read immediately after that would seem pretty lackluster and less than life-affirming. i was correct. i must say i'm disappointed with best american short stories, 2006. it's taken me at least a month to plod through a little over half of this book. if i had to pick a highlight, it would be "The Conductor" by Aleksandar Hemon. good eats. anyhoo, i thought the whole point of short stories was that they were easily digestible little nuggets of literature (although, based on my one creative writing class in college, the point of a short story is for your character[s] to have redeeming qualities. i strongly disagree. perhaps that's why i didn't get a 4.0 that semester that i only had that class one day a week). the point is, i'm having a hard time choking these stories down. not that i planned this segue, but, speaking of difficult to digest nuggets....
on friday i had sort of a bad day at work. no need to go into particulars, as most of the time my bad/sad moods are vague and unpinpointable in nature. so there was some of that intangibility combined with other tangibles. the point being, i was looking forward to some imbibing--i guess i'll take any excuse. hey, i'm in a good mood, let's drink! hey, i'm in a bad mood, let's drink! so of course went to juliana's and drank many a shitty hite. i really miss boulevard wheat. just felt the urge to mention that. at my table, people were playing some stupid card game for money. which leads to one person (or maybe two, i'm not sure) losing lots of money and one person winning lots of money. my gain, not because i played, but just because i was sitting there with the person who won. soon a whole bottle of tequila that someone else bought materialized in front of me. i'm game. of course my liver was bigger than my stomach (dunno if that makes any sense), as i temporarily forgot i hadn't eaten dinner. so several shots in, i'm feeling no pain, but i did have plans to go to a soccer game the next day, so it was important to go home at a reasonable hour. i don't know in what language "reasonable" translates to 3 am, i guess it would be korean. when i got home i passed out after eating an arguably obscene amount of cheese and crackers. i must have swallowed said snack before even chewing, as evidenced by the copious amount of solid cheese-laden vomit i had the pleasure of cleaning up a little before 4 in the am. grrreeeaaat. the next day, post-shower, i had to dry off with a sweatshirt, as all my towels had cheesy barf all over them. yup, i'm a responsible adult.
moving on, and further refuting that last point--you know, the one about me being an adult--i had a soccer game to go to on saturday. met some peeps at noon. looked like we all had a rough night. juliana's owner was with us though, and he wasn't about to let some hungover people (as well as actual rain) rain on his planned day of soccer debauchery. after all, what is soccer without hooligans. korean, american and south african hooligans. so we took a taxi to where the gwangyang dragons were playing. apparently, they'd been kicked out of their home stadium for some sort of concert, so they just played in a generic stadium. whatever, i couldn't tell. but the weather did suck on account of the yellow sand from china and some rain. so we sat in a soju tent eating corn dogs and drinking beer. then we moved into the stadium to continue to drink beer, scream obscenities at the soccer players (scaring and driving children to tears in the process), and behave like complete idiots. this went on long after the game was finished. went back to a guy named brian's house (turns out he's a 3 time olympian. and i drank beer and ate bbq at his house. weird). i went to sleep at 8 pm, relieved that the weather provided an adequate excuse to not do anything productive. i slept until 10 am the next day.
i've realized that my apartment makes a lot of noise. i sleep with gross, spongey earplugs. each night i tentatively plunge my hand into a half-sized ziplock bag full of these little blue plugs, somewhat repulsed by the feel of the wax on my fingers. nevermind the fact that it's this same wax in my ears everyday... now it's more habit than necessity. i remember when i was little and would get swimmer's ear. jules and i would have to wear these really nasty pliable gummy wads that molded to the shape of your ear. but after you'd worn them a couple times, mixed with the wax and the chlorine, they didn't really hold up, reduced to the texture of old, ropey gum. or maybe when gum mixes with candy because you can't commit to just one. there is the constant hum of the refrigerator. that in itself, no problem. constant noise is okay. things that come in evenly spaced intervals are what fuck with me--the dripping kitchen sink, the ticking clock on top of the tv (i guess i could move it, but i can't move the fridge), the weird thumping noise coming from my freezer (what is that?). each drip, each knock, each tick timed out and anticipated.
anyhoo, i believe it was this night i had the bizarre (or not bizarre at all. there weren't any weird devices or anything. heh heh.) lesbian sex dream starring myself and jennifer connelly. i guess it could be worse. i would prefer a hot male sex dream or real-life encounter, but if i had to choose a chick to get it on with, it would be her. anyhoo, we were "on the swim" from evil ship captains. lots of swimming naked in water from shady boat to shady boat. through canals and underground tunnels. and of course amidst all this swimming was other stuff that would constitute a "lesbian" dream. use your imagination, folks. i think this dream stemmed from two things: 1) in gwangju i was talking to some chicks about who we'd pick for "she" sex. jennifer connelly was my number one; 2) i've been investing a lot of time lately in writing a peter pan script for my children's class. captain hook. eh? i am glad that there were no hooks involved in this dream though. would have been gory and slightly less pleasant.
drama class today. i've been in awkward power struggles at work before. ultimately, i've been the one reduced to tongue biting, and higher ground taking. but each time that situation has presented itself in the past, the people involved spoke english. now i have an even weirder power struggle going on at the library with my korean co-teacher. she's old, she doesn't speak english very well, and i honestly wanted to punch her in the face today. i'm starting to project all my resentment of these rude little kids onto her. and she's not even particularly rude, she's just not particularly helpful either. in my other class with the completely competent english speaker, i'll bark out a command or a statement, and she'll repeat me in korean. i don't have to command her to command. she understands me. in today's class, i had 21 little bodies running around screaming (as the director of the library and my supervisor at city hall decide to drop in unannounced. fucking great), and one old woman vacantly looking at me, not understanding her cues to translate. after spending more hours than i'd care to admit revising my peter pan script, she tells me today "i don't think any of the kids can in here can read english." guess what lady, i know that. so i guess i'll just let you direct a korean play instead of an english one. but i can't teach 21 kids to read english in the 2 months we have left. and how the fuck is that my fault. no one asked for my input when they let 21 kids who don't speak engish sign up for the fucking ENGLISH play. maybe i should present it to them like an opera, you don't have to know italian to appreciate it or perform it? puccini, peter pan in konglish, same same.
at the end of class, i was telling all these kids about their homework, and she's just standing there. then i say, "if anyone understands a word i just said, raise your hand." they all just look at me, "bi-lingual" grandma included, wondering why i'm not still speaking. so fucking frustrating. and i keep telling her i need her to help me get control of my classroom while she just vacantly smiles and nods wondering why i'm angry. today at the end she took the script and said she was going to make changes to it, but she couldn't answer "what" changes. then she tells me she won't be here next monday. this after missing last monday and showing up 30 minutes late the week before that. fudge a dudge. this class makes me feel helpless. and it's so much worse than the last beginner's class.
other things on my mind. my contract here in suncheon is past the halfway point. so now i have to start thinking about/ implementing my next course of action, whatever that may be. time both flies and stands still here in these, the stop-motion days of my life. a routine that makes the days feel long when you're immersed in them and fleeting when they've passed. it's bizarre to think these traits of a generic daily life can follow anyone anywhere. i should get a hobby.
i had a relatively uneventful weekend. some reading, some korean verb conjugating, some imbibing, an odd lesbian sex dream (i guess only odd in that i had it in the first place), and soccer. these, of course, in no particular order.
i'll start with the reading portion pf the recap. after reading what is the what, i was skeptical, believing that anything i read immediately after that would seem pretty lackluster and less than life-affirming. i was correct. i must say i'm disappointed with best american short stories, 2006. it's taken me at least a month to plod through a little over half of this book. if i had to pick a highlight, it would be "The Conductor" by Aleksandar Hemon. good eats. anyhoo, i thought the whole point of short stories was that they were easily digestible little nuggets of literature (although, based on my one creative writing class in college, the point of a short story is for your character[s] to have redeeming qualities. i strongly disagree. perhaps that's why i didn't get a 4.0 that semester that i only had that class one day a week). the point is, i'm having a hard time choking these stories down. not that i planned this segue, but, speaking of difficult to digest nuggets....
on friday i had sort of a bad day at work. no need to go into particulars, as most of the time my bad/sad moods are vague and unpinpointable in nature. so there was some of that intangibility combined with other tangibles. the point being, i was looking forward to some imbibing--i guess i'll take any excuse. hey, i'm in a good mood, let's drink! hey, i'm in a bad mood, let's drink! so of course went to juliana's and drank many a shitty hite. i really miss boulevard wheat. just felt the urge to mention that. at my table, people were playing some stupid card game for money. which leads to one person (or maybe two, i'm not sure) losing lots of money and one person winning lots of money. my gain, not because i played, but just because i was sitting there with the person who won. soon a whole bottle of tequila that someone else bought materialized in front of me. i'm game. of course my liver was bigger than my stomach (dunno if that makes any sense), as i temporarily forgot i hadn't eaten dinner. so several shots in, i'm feeling no pain, but i did have plans to go to a soccer game the next day, so it was important to go home at a reasonable hour. i don't know in what language "reasonable" translates to 3 am, i guess it would be korean. when i got home i passed out after eating an arguably obscene amount of cheese and crackers. i must have swallowed said snack before even chewing, as evidenced by the copious amount of solid cheese-laden vomit i had the pleasure of cleaning up a little before 4 in the am. grrreeeaaat. the next day, post-shower, i had to dry off with a sweatshirt, as all my towels had cheesy barf all over them. yup, i'm a responsible adult.
moving on, and further refuting that last point--you know, the one about me being an adult--i had a soccer game to go to on saturday. met some peeps at noon. looked like we all had a rough night. juliana's owner was with us though, and he wasn't about to let some hungover people (as well as actual rain) rain on his planned day of soccer debauchery. after all, what is soccer without hooligans. korean, american and south african hooligans. so we took a taxi to where the gwangyang dragons were playing. apparently, they'd been kicked out of their home stadium for some sort of concert, so they just played in a generic stadium. whatever, i couldn't tell. but the weather did suck on account of the yellow sand from china and some rain. so we sat in a soju tent eating corn dogs and drinking beer. then we moved into the stadium to continue to drink beer, scream obscenities at the soccer players (scaring and driving children to tears in the process), and behave like complete idiots. this went on long after the game was finished. went back to a guy named brian's house (turns out he's a 3 time olympian. and i drank beer and ate bbq at his house. weird). i went to sleep at 8 pm, relieved that the weather provided an adequate excuse to not do anything productive. i slept until 10 am the next day.
i've realized that my apartment makes a lot of noise. i sleep with gross, spongey earplugs. each night i tentatively plunge my hand into a half-sized ziplock bag full of these little blue plugs, somewhat repulsed by the feel of the wax on my fingers. nevermind the fact that it's this same wax in my ears everyday... now it's more habit than necessity. i remember when i was little and would get swimmer's ear. jules and i would have to wear these really nasty pliable gummy wads that molded to the shape of your ear. but after you'd worn them a couple times, mixed with the wax and the chlorine, they didn't really hold up, reduced to the texture of old, ropey gum. or maybe when gum mixes with candy because you can't commit to just one. there is the constant hum of the refrigerator. that in itself, no problem. constant noise is okay. things that come in evenly spaced intervals are what fuck with me--the dripping kitchen sink, the ticking clock on top of the tv (i guess i could move it, but i can't move the fridge), the weird thumping noise coming from my freezer (what is that?). each drip, each knock, each tick timed out and anticipated.
anyhoo, i believe it was this night i had the bizarre (or not bizarre at all. there weren't any weird devices or anything. heh heh.) lesbian sex dream starring myself and jennifer connelly. i guess it could be worse. i would prefer a hot male sex dream or real-life encounter, but if i had to choose a chick to get it on with, it would be her. anyhoo, we were "on the swim" from evil ship captains. lots of swimming naked in water from shady boat to shady boat. through canals and underground tunnels. and of course amidst all this swimming was other stuff that would constitute a "lesbian" dream. use your imagination, folks. i think this dream stemmed from two things: 1) in gwangju i was talking to some chicks about who we'd pick for "she" sex. jennifer connelly was my number one; 2) i've been investing a lot of time lately in writing a peter pan script for my children's class. captain hook. eh? i am glad that there were no hooks involved in this dream though. would have been gory and slightly less pleasant.
drama class today. i've been in awkward power struggles at work before. ultimately, i've been the one reduced to tongue biting, and higher ground taking. but each time that situation has presented itself in the past, the people involved spoke english. now i have an even weirder power struggle going on at the library with my korean co-teacher. she's old, she doesn't speak english very well, and i honestly wanted to punch her in the face today. i'm starting to project all my resentment of these rude little kids onto her. and she's not even particularly rude, she's just not particularly helpful either. in my other class with the completely competent english speaker, i'll bark out a command or a statement, and she'll repeat me in korean. i don't have to command her to command. she understands me. in today's class, i had 21 little bodies running around screaming (as the director of the library and my supervisor at city hall decide to drop in unannounced. fucking great), and one old woman vacantly looking at me, not understanding her cues to translate. after spending more hours than i'd care to admit revising my peter pan script, she tells me today "i don't think any of the kids can in here can read english." guess what lady, i know that. so i guess i'll just let you direct a korean play instead of an english one. but i can't teach 21 kids to read english in the 2 months we have left. and how the fuck is that my fault. no one asked for my input when they let 21 kids who don't speak engish sign up for the fucking ENGLISH play. maybe i should present it to them like an opera, you don't have to know italian to appreciate it or perform it? puccini, peter pan in konglish, same same.
at the end of class, i was telling all these kids about their homework, and she's just standing there. then i say, "if anyone understands a word i just said, raise your hand." they all just look at me, "bi-lingual" grandma included, wondering why i'm not still speaking. so fucking frustrating. and i keep telling her i need her to help me get control of my classroom while she just vacantly smiles and nods wondering why i'm angry. today at the end she took the script and said she was going to make changes to it, but she couldn't answer "what" changes. then she tells me she won't be here next monday. this after missing last monday and showing up 30 minutes late the week before that. fudge a dudge. this class makes me feel helpless. and it's so much worse than the last beginner's class.
other things on my mind. my contract here in suncheon is past the halfway point. so now i have to start thinking about/ implementing my next course of action, whatever that may be. time both flies and stands still here in these, the stop-motion days of my life. a routine that makes the days feel long when you're immersed in them and fleeting when they've passed. it's bizarre to think these traits of a generic daily life can follow anyone anywhere. i should get a hobby.
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