Episode 24: In which DFM Steps Into A Time Machine, And Eats Diarrhea

My week may have been uneventful, but the weekend made up for it.

For starters, the latest Sasuke episode came out. This is a big event for me, because unlike the UFC which puts out about two big shows a month, Sasuke (my favourite sports event) is only run twice a year. During Sasuke 22 (the last episode), someone made it to the final stage for the first time since Nagano Makato achieved Total Victory in Sasuke 17.

This year was extra exciting, as 16 people cleared the first stage (I've never seen more than five since the producers completely redesigned the course for Sasuke 18). Also, three of the four original Sasuke All-Stars still competing made it to the third stage; the first time this has happened in about four years. What's better yet, the producers released the first Kunoichi (Women's competition) since 2007. I'm currently waiting for my download of it to finish, and then the fun will begin again.

Later that evening, Hyeun-A made the trip across town from near Itaewon to have dinner with me. Being the lady's man I am, I hadn't actually bothered to figure out where any good places to eat were, so the first fifteen minutes of our date were spent trying to find a suitable restaurant (in my defence I only had two weeks to prepare). Eventually Hyeun-A spotted a tiny kalguksu restaurant though, and we were able to eat.

Kalguksu apparently describes any soup that has heavy, thick noodles in it. Hyeun-A tried to translate the menu for me, but somehow something was lost in the translation, and I ended up with patkalguksu (red bean noodle soup) that was kind of bland, while she had the kalguksu that didn't look like diarrhea.

After dinner I took Hyeun-A for a walk along the stream near my house. I have wanted to walk or run down the paths next to this stream since I first saw them, but had not found that magic combination of time and specific inclination until this. I can say it was a big disappointment. I thought on a Saturday night the paths would be peaceful and quiet. Instead, it seemed like everyone with a bike or set of running shoes was out on the trails in traditional Korean fashion - neither riding/walking on the left or right, but rather scattered randomly across the width of the trail, making for a stressful night of constantly having to move back and forth.

What's more, where I live, I'm used to using the bike trails as a medium for easy, traffic light-/stop sign free-transportation to somewhere important, by way of some place beautiful. However, bike paths in Seoul are always built along the dirty streams and rivers, and right next to the noisy, busy roads, and never seem to go anywhere particularly useful. People just travel to one end of a straight path, turn around, and then head back the other way.

On Sunday I went back to Namhee's church. Like last time, Namhee's friend In-hye wanted to pick me up from the subway station. I sprinted up the stairs to our meeting point and noticed a small white car, just like In-hye's, parked in the same spot as last time. I got in the back seat and said "hello." I had noticed that In-hye had a different friend this week but didn't think much of it. However, when the woman kept saying "no, no" in Korean and pointing up ahead, I noticed that "In-hye" appeared to look about twenty years older this week. When I looked ahead where she was pointing I noticed the real In-hye trying to wave me down about three cars ahead in another small, white car. This event of course produced a hilarious story that would later be told and retold, by In-hye, to anyone who would listen at church.

Namhee's church's service is entirely conducted in Korean, so I didn't understand much of anything that was said. However, the songs are quite catchy, and the church kindly put the words on the overhead screen in large print giving me an opportunity to practice my karaoke (I believe I mentioned this last time).

Additionally, since I recently bought a Korean-English Bible, I use the sermon time to read ahead on whatever scripture is the topic for that day. Today's topic was about two sisters who are so desperate to have children that they get their father drunk and rape him, thus producing two sons who go on to father a great line of The Lord's People. I wonder how Rush Limbaugh justifies that one?

After the service, In-hye invited me to a youth session. There were dozens of University aged Koreans there, and surprisingly they all seemed to speak English to some extent (and many to a great extent). Never-the-less, I was called to the front by the pastor and I introduced myself in Korean to the gathering. As usual, this went over quite well, and made me somewhat of a minor celebrity. It also helps that I've learned how to say "I am Namhee's friend" in Korean.

After this meeting, and another "smaller group" meeting, an even smaller group of just the smaller group leaders went out for barbecued pork, and invited me along. I have to say this is the first time I have been out eating with a group of Koreans and I was the oldest person at the table. It was a little weird.

Most Koreans think that it is hard for me to use honorific verb and adjective endings in the presence of elders, but since I'm always in the presence of elders I've become quite proficient at it. Ironically (for Koreans), I have the most trouble using the "non-polite" verb endings, because I never get to practice them. (In Korean, the same sentence must be said in three or four different ways depending on the age and/or status of the person to whom you are speaking.)

(My new friends [left to right]: Su-min, Su-ji, Won-jae, In-hye, and Min-seon. Min-seon actually studied English in New Zealand. Consequently, she peaks with a slight New Zealand accent, which is really weird to hear coming from a Korean. A good "weird" though.)

The meal consisted of some part of a pig which I was unable to ascertain, as well as the skin of the same pig presumably, barbecued in the typical Korean fashion - at our table. The meal was delicious, and the meat seemed to keep on coming, and I must have ate through two servings myself. Everyone was impressed with my chop-sticks skills, and I of course told them how much I loved eating Korean food. I made a big deal about how much more I like Korean food than Canadian food, but when we went to pay the bill though, the stores owner told us the pork had actually come from Canada. Oh well, at least In-hye will have another funny story to tell.

Episode 17: In Which DFM Gets Invited To A Party With Lots Of Cute Girls, And Later Gets Punched In The Stomach

Friday morning was a tough one. I had to struggle to get out of my bed, and when Namhee phoned me from Canada (it was Thursday night there), I discovered my voice was missing (refer to Episode 16).

I had big plans for my lessons today, and had showed up to school a half-hour early to prepare and set all of my equipment and materials up. However, no one told me that the last Friday of every month is when the school holds a giant birthday party in my classroom for all the children who have had birthdays in the past month.

With my classroom occupied (the only classroom with a large enough space and computer and projector I use for my classes), I had to quickly come up with three separate half-hour lessons with no art equipment, and no space. (Before I continue I should mention this is a different school than the one about which I usually write.)

Considering the circumstances I feel my classes were a great success. However, by the end of the day my throat felt like I had swallowed sandpaper. The children were quite concerned, and when one of them asked if I had a "really sore throat" in Korean. When I responded, "yes, a really sore throat" back (in Korean), the class when crazy ("DFM Teacher can speak Korean!"). They seem to forget that just two days earlier I sang the entire Tomi the Baby Squirrel song in Korean. Oh well, I never get tired of their surprise and joy over my effort to learn Korean.

In the past week I have been getting more and more confident in my ability to hold the attention of the children, and today I tried to teach the children the song John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. I attempted to teach this song to the children the first week, but I quickly lost their attention and the class descended into chaos.

Now though, I am respected enough as a teacher, and am liked enough as a person, that the children (somewhat reluctantly perhaps) repeated the nonsensical lyrics for me enough times to develop a minor appreciation of the song. Later, in my art class I actually heard one of the girls (incredibly smart) from an earlier class actually attempting to sing the song. It was a proud moment.

Another memorable moment was when one of the girls invited me to her birthday party on the weekend. I told her that if she got her parents to invite me I would come, but that if I couldn't make it she should save me a cupcake (the girl lived for a year and a half in Australia, so her English language abilities are much better than those of the other students). This is the same girl who, on the first day, told me that my class was boring, that I "was no genious at drawing," and that she would "never listen to me."

Speaking of birthdays, one of the five-year-old boys (Canadian age), who was one of the children having a birthday party in my classroom, wanted to show me his presents. When he told me in Korean that today was his birthday, the same girl who tried to sing John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt got mad at him, and told him he had to speak English or else I couldn't understand (I actually knew what birthday was in Korean though). It was funny, but some of the girls get pretty protective of me, and I have to stop them from screaming at the other students if they talk during my class, or if the boys use my stomach for taekwondo practice.

Every teacher has one student for whom it seems like all of his or her lessons are planned. In my one-hour afternoon "special art class," that student is a boy named Seon-gyu. Seon-gyu always wears his taekwondo uniform to class (I assume he has lessons after school), and he rushes through every assignment in twenty minutes, gets bored, and then gets into fights with a younger boy who is also in taekwondo. It took me a couple weeks, but I eventually figured out that when Seon-gyu is happy and occupied, life is easier for everyone (especially me). This usually involves finding an activity that has multiple pictures to colour/draw, something to cut and/or fold, and a lot of taping and/or gluing.

On Monday I had found a paper-doll template for Jack and Jill dolls. I used them today, and it was a big success. The cutting and gluing were easy enough that most of the students could do them on their own, and Seon-gyu's doll stood up on its own (as it was supposed to do), and so he was happy. Even better, it took Seon-gyu the whole class to finish his assignment so no one got hit.

Episode 15: In Which DFM Meets A Movie Star, And Goes To A Place Where Everyone Knows His Name

In Canada I go to church every Sunday, but in Korea I find it a little intimidating to find a new church when I'm not even sure what is being said. However, last week and this week I have been fortunate enough to be invited to different churches by some new friends I have met.

Last week I was invited to Sarang Church in Gangnam by the English teacher at one of my schools. Even though Gangnam is more than an hour away from my home I felt that a month without going to church might be hard to justify to even the most liberal of Christians (which Korean Christians are not).

During my last visit I went to the largest church in the world. While Sarang Church is not as big as the Yeouido Full Gospel Assembly, it still has a large enough following to host five services. It also has a large "foreigner" population and holds three English(ee) services in a separate church down the street.

The English sermon was delivered by a guest pastor from California. Himself a Korean emigrant, he was apparently Jim Carey's Korean dialect coach for the movie Yes Man, and even had a small, one-line part in the film as a professor, but Jim Carey stole his one line.

While most Korean sermons deal almost exclusively with little more than the basic Christian principles (trust God, don't worry, be happy, etc.), this guest pastor made a concerted effort to deliver a message that was well researched and actually practical to the lives of the Christians in attendance. It was also chalk full of funny jokes, but experience has taught me Christians generally lack a sense of humour, and this congregation definitely supported that theory.

This week I had the privilege of attending the church of my friend Namhee. Namhee is a Korean I met in Canada while he was studying English. He is still in Canada, but wanted me to visit his family in Korea at his church.

I was picked up at the subway station by two of his friends. They drove me to the church and introduced me to the pastor, who already knew my name (apparently I had been expected). During the service, Namhee's two friends tried to translate for me as best as possible. I also knew enough Korean to figure out on my own that the pastor, at least at one point, was trying to suggest that Christians are supposed to be happy, but many Korean people are not happy but instead continuously walk around looking and feeling tired (probably because they don't sleep more than three hours a night).

One of the highlights of the experience was being able to sing along to the songs. During my past visit I went to April's church and was not able to follow along even to the slower hymns - my reading speed was just too slow. Today though, I was able to just barely scrape by, and could usually pick up enough of the words to sound like I knew what I was doing by the third time through the chorus (the words are on a large video screen at the back of the stage).

After service, I finally met Namhee's sister and her husband. Namhee's brother-in-law had studied English in my home town a few years ago, and it was he who had recommended the place to Namhee (I'm not sure why). Both Namhee's sister and brother-in-law were very nice, and after church they took me out to try some jjimdak.

(Namhee's sister is the one on the left.)

Jjimdak literally means "steamed chicken." The dish includes large chunks of steamed chicken mixed together with various steamed vegetables and red gochu pepper. Namhee's brother-in-law warned me that the red gochu peppers were exceptionally spicy, but after having burned off my taste buds with the green gochu peppers at Thursday's climbing competition these red peppers failed to even make my tongue tingle.

Next Sunday I will go back to the Sarang church to experience what a regular sermon is like (with the usual pastor preaching), and also to buy a Korean/English dual language Bible with which to follow along in the sermons and study Korean. However, I really enjoy the friendly atmosphere at Namhee's church and will probably go there most Sundays - it's closer, and saves me from having to ride the dreaded No. 2 Line that is always packed.