Episode 44: In Which DFM Becomes A Victim, Helps A Victim, And Eats A Coincidence

On Tuesday I was told that I needed to vacate my former premises by Thursday (just two days later, for those of you doing the maths). As a result I was forced to spend most of Wednesday cleaning up the pigsty that used to be my room.

Over the course of the last four months I had managed to amass a rather large amount of excess supplies that would not fit in my suitcase. During my last stay in Korea the same thing happened to me, as well, but I was actually able to cram everything into my suitcase. However, the consequence of my efficient packing was that I was charged an extra $100 at the airport for a suitcase that tipped the scale 20 kg over the limit. Looking to avoid a similar blow to my wallet, I took some advice from a friend and decided to send a package home ahead of time through the mail.

As seems to be the norm with government sites in Korea, the Korea Post website is awful. Oh sure, there are lots of colourful boxes, and buttons to press, but very little real information is given, and as usual there seems to be no way to actually find out how to get to any one of the buildings for which the website was designed.

Again I had to use independent websites to find the location of a government building in Seoul (in this case, my neighbourhood's post office) and set off to find it. Once I found the post office, I got set packing all of my things into the largest of the boxes you can buy there for a nominal fee, with the intention of sending it to my house in Canada via the ultra slow, but relatively cheap "surface mail." However, since I lacked the necessary Korean language capability to request what is probably a rarely requested service, I was charged over $100 to send it through the air (AKA the money I was hoping to avoid spending by going to the post office in the first place).

* * * * *

Later that night I went to Hongdae to meet Scarlett and her friend (not Liz, the other one, I feel horrible that I keep forgetting her name). When I reached the station I tried to find the exit at which she told me to meet, but it didn't seem to exist. After a few phone calls, and a game of hide and seek, it became apparent that in all the stress and confusion of the last few days I had forgotten that she changed our meeting place last night, and so I was at the wrong station.

Eventually we met up in Sillim (I think I know the streets of Sillim better than my own neighbourhood I've been there so often), and Scarlett decided to take me out for naengmyeon. I was pretty excited because at that time, I had been asked about a dozen times if I had tried naengmyeon, and I would finally be able to say yes.

When I got my bowl, I was expecting something really spicy. Everything in Korea is hot and spicy it seems, and I kind of like that now. Much to my surprise though, naengmyeon is a bowl of buckwheat noodles in a tangy soup that has a bunch of ice floating around in it, but it's definitely not spicy.

I still can't believe it, but up until that point I had just thought it an ironic coincidence that the word for refriderator is 냉장고 - "naeng-jang-go." I had wondered on more than one occasion why something designed to keep food cold, would sound so similar to a hot, spicy Korean dish, but as soon as I saw the ice in the bowl I felt kind of stupid. (냉 "naeng" - mean cold.)

* * * * *

On the way home I had my first experience with a subway drunkard. This particular man had spread himself out on the bench occupying two seats for himself. A third and fourth seat were occupied by a combination of alcohol bottles, a bag, the sugared candies that used to be in the bag, and a bag of kimchi that the man had been eating with his hands. I'm not exactly sure what he had been drinking (and still drinking), but it had an incredibly strong camphorous scent, and the eyes of the poor guy sitting beside him were watering pretty badly.

As well as breaking the law, the drunkard was obviously breaking a strict sociatal code of ethics, or so I gathered from the looks of disgust and distain most of the older Koreans were throwing his way. He couldn't be bothered with that though, and so chose to try and pick a fight with theth the only guy kind enough to sit by him and put up with his state.

I'm not sure what was said, but the drunkard first started talking to the guy next to him, who was listening to music on his headphones and reading a book at that time. When the man couldn't hear him, the drunkard starting yelling at him, until he noticed the drunkard's voice and looked up. He was quite patient for some time in listening to and responding to whatever the drunkard was asking, and one would think the drunkard would have appreciated the man's kindness. Apparently that's not how drunkards think though, for he then started to get beligirent with the kind man. This especially offended a gentleman in his mid-sixties, sitting on the other side of the kind victim, who then became quite stern with the drunkard for his lack of manners. However this only served to spur the drunkard on more, and he once again directed more of his annoying behaviour towards the unfortunate young man literally caught in the middle.

At this moment, what I had been waiting to happen finally did happen, and the kimchi covered hand that the drunkard had been waving around started coming closer and closer to the young man's white shirt. Finally the young man's patience had worn too thin, and he stood up in disgust. The older man told him he should call the police, but the younger man said it was alright, although it was plain to see that he was rather upset. I smiled at him and asked him if everything was all right, which I like to think helped distract him enough so that he could calm down.

And with the show over just in time for me to get off at my station, I headed home to try and get some sleep before my big move the next day.

Episode 34: In Which DFM Wishes He Had A Book Of Baby Names, And Takes Another Step Towards Turning Into Pigs Blood Stuffed In Intestinal Wrappings

After a wild Friday 13th, in which all the students seemed to forget how to behave in school (this is probably due to two weeks of interrupted class schedules), I was hoping to get some extra sleep on Saturday. However, I would have no such luck, for Saturday was a full day.

Seong-bok had phoned me the week before to say he had some more friends who wanted to see me. Because he is studying English on the weekends in Gangnam, and I wanted to meet in Sinchon, we decided to split the difference and meet in Sillim again. So, back Sillim I went for the third time to eat sundae at the same restaurant. I'm not complaining mind you, as sundae is my favourite food (remember, it's pronounced "soon-day;" it's not ice cream).

In Korea, many English classes force the students to take English names. I think this is ridiculous since very few foreigners would think of taking up a Korean name, even though English names are really hard for Koreans to say (I'm Dee Epp Emm over here). If it is a Korean teacher telling the students to make an English name, that's one thing, but I have serious issues with foreign teachers telling Korean students to change their names (even if they've been told by their hagwon to do so).

The reason I mentioned the English names is because one of Sung-bok's friends did not yet have an English name, and his other friend wanted to change hers. So, for the third time this week I had to come up with an English name. It's tougher to do than you'd think, especially without those handy book of baby names, and without appearing a moron by misspelling an already existing, perfectly fine English word/name to make your baby sound unique. While I won't be sharing my choices here, since I disagree with the concept of an "English name" in general, I put a lot of effort into coming up with fitting names for my new friends, and so I'm pretty happy with my choices.

After lunch with Seong-bok and his friends, I went to Sinchon (that won't mean anything to you though unless you know where and what Sinchon is) to meet a teacher's assistant at my Thursday school who wanted to hire an English tutor who could speak Korean. While I'm not fluent by any means, I'm the best she's going to get for the price she's willing to pay. I shouldn't say that she was willing to pay my wage , because even though I cut the going rate in half, she still thought it was expensive (which it was, but I worked hard to learn that Korean, and I also worked hard to prepare her lesson).

After the lesson though, my coworker and I went to watch a movie. There were no interesting English movies playing, since 2012 was taking up three theatres, so I suggested we watch the movie "Good Morning President," a Korean film, because I wanted to test out my Korean listening skills. Well, I failed. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised though, since there's only so many times even the worst writer can use "hello" or "sorry" before they decide to put something else in the script.

I thought the movie would be a comedy, and while there were definitely funny moments, I think it was trying to say something else too. I couldn't really tell though, because I had almost no clue what anyone was saying at any time. Even so, it still beat watching 2012, and it gives me a good idea of where I need to be. It also affirmed my belief that watching Korean movies and dramas is not "a good way to learn Korean" (as many Koreans tell me) when you can't recognize any of the words being said. Book learning is the key!

Episode 33: In Which DFM Has A Birthday But Doesn't Get Older, And Blows On A UFO

Thursday was my birthday. I didn't tell anyone though, so Eun-hye (the ballet teacher at the school I go to on Thursday) was all upset that she didn't know to buy me a present. When she asked me after school what I wanted for a gift after school, I had to think for a minute. I live a very frugal life, and pretty much anything I need I already have. Moreover, I already have most of the things I want, and the things I don't have are related to wisdom or life experience and can't be bought with any currency other than time. Consequently, I felt under the circumstances a cheap umbrella would be a good gift for me.

I've mentioned before that the Koreans I see are more or less petrified of the rain (just the other day I saw a man sprinting the ten feet from the taxi to his door in a light drizzle). While I still don't really care if I get wet or not, and would not normally have purchased the umbrella, I do have concerns about the contents of my back pack which cannot be protected by my jacket.

Conveniently for me then, the Koreans' fear of the rain has forced them to master the art of the umbrella. While I'm sure you can find small umbrellas in Canada too, in Korea I can buy them in a subway station or from the local corner convenience store. I was easily able to find a full size umbrella that folds up into a bundle smaller than a 500 mL water bottle for less than $10 at the first store I walked into (they pretty much all cost about $10 anywhere you go, so there was no need to shop around).

Eun-hye and I then went to a nearby coffee shop to talk, but after a while she had to leave for another appointment and I was left with a good hour and a half to kill before my MEC meeting. I figured I might as well treat myself to a birthday gift from myself, and so I headed to the Kyobo book store in Gwanghwamun (Charles and I went here back in September) to look at the books (I love books).

While there I found the remaining two books in the series of books on how to learn Korean that I'm currently using to study. At first I thought the series was to easy to be effective, but I've since dedicated myself to following its system faithfully, and I now credit this series' simple, straight forward approach to my recent exponential increase in Korean speaking ability and comprehension.

* * * * *

At the MEC meeting I was treated to a birthday cake and perhaps the most well thought out present I've ever received. Sally, one of the members in the club, had remembered me humming the tune to Astro Boy some time ago. She gave me her collection of really old Astro Boy comics, in mint condition, that she had from when she was younger. She also gave me an Astro Boy toy she found McDonald's to be giving away in a Happy Meal a few years ago. The toy included a UFO like object that has a gyroscope inside. The gyroscope can be revved up by blowing through a certain hole in its body. The revved up gyroscope-UFO can then be balanced on top of the Astro Boy toy's outstretched arm and "it really spins!" It's absolutely brilliant.

Episode 28: In Which DFM Uses Quantum Physics To Understand How To Speak Korean, And Uses A Microwave To Make His Shoes Stop Smelling

Back in College I had to read a book by George Leonard called Mastery. In this concise, to-the-point book, Leonard claims that learning does not take place on a continuous curve, but rather in a quantum fashion, in which time must be spent on a plateau of non-improvement before the next small jump in proficiency can be noticed; the plateau increasing in length with each quantum jump.

My experience with attempting to master climbing has definitely shown me that this is true, however Leonard's model also suggests that at the beginning of the "curve," the plateaus are so small in length that one gets the impression of near constant improvement every day. While this might be the case for learning simple tasks like weight training - didn't everyone feel they would keep getting stronger for ever when they first started, or am I the only one? I have also experienced the near soul-crushing frustration of trying to learn complex tasks such as making an open field tackle in football, or hitting a back-hand on the move in tennis. Fortunately I have another theory as well.

While I was experiencing said frustration in learning how to tackle, my coach shared with me a bit of wisdom that he had learned from his coach. My coach told me that learning a complex task is like trying to poke your finger through the plastic wrap you use to cover a bowl of fruit salad. You push and push and push, but the plastic wrap just stretches and you are still left without any fruit. Then finally, at some unexpected moment, you reach some magic tipping point and your finger bursts through the plastic.

As I look back on my own experiences learning new skills, the Leonard "Quantum Curve" (as I've just now decided to call it) definitely holds true for learning new, simple skills and for mastering both simple and complex skills at which I've already become proficient. So then, why do we all experience the "fruit bowl plastic wrap phenomenon" I described before when trying to learn complex tasks from scratch? And moreover, why am I talking about this in my blog about Korea?

To answer the first question, I believe that complex tasks follow the same rules of the Quantum Curve, but that one or more prerequisite skills need to be mastered before the brain can start the process of mastering the complex skill. This theory seems to be justified by the research I read on the subject as part of my Phys Ed degree (and to think some people consider the BPE "useless"). Unfortunately, the brain tackles learning multiple skills in much the same way Microsoft Windows copies multiple files from your computer's hard drive to a USB drive, and that's why we have the frustration my coach explained using the fruit bowl analogy.

And now the part where this fits into my Korea trip...

Up until this point I have been studying Korean every day for roughly one hour. I wouldn't call my improvement meteoric, but I'm also honest enough to admit (and have said on this blog) that I can see some improvement. My Korean friends are also constantly tell me that my Korean is improving (especially if they haven't seen me or talked to me in some time). Nevertheless, I would never say that I have reached the point of proficiency at which I could call myself "functionally fluent" in my Korean. Sure, I know how to give and receive simple instructions in climbing like "move your left foot up," and some, like myself, would even argue that this is all the communication one needs to live a happy life, but "Talking With Beauties" (as it's known on expat bloggers' websites) will not be inviting me to take part in their rare "Talking With Handsome Men" episodes.

This past week though I seem to have experienced a plastic wrap break through of sorts. While many foreigners living in Korea are too lazy to even learn the hangul (the world's easiest "alphabet" to read), I've said before and I'm saying it again now that I'm still surprised at how every time I meet a new Korean they're still surprised at "how well" I speak my limited Korean. If any Korean came to Canada with the same level of proficiency in English as I have in Korean, you'd have every secretly racist person in the country (or roughly 90% of the population) complaining around their dinner table that these people "should go back to their own country" and that "we don't go to their country to work when we don't know their language." However, this week on two separate occasions I participated in extended introductions with strangers (in Korean) that lasted about 3-5 minutes, and this impressed even me. My grammar was more or less right, and I believe I said most of the words correctly.

One of these conversations took place at Summit Climbing Centre. I had been meaning to go back to Summit for the last two weeks, but as you read in my last post a wedding got in the way and ruined my plans (is there anything weddings don't ruin?), but better late than never I suppose.

Unfortunately, nothing much to report. I met a new friend, Yun Jun, and just like every other time I've been to Summit and met a new friend, this was her first week climbing. (Does Summit actually have any climbers who are regulars?) I spent more or less the whole evening showing her how to move left and right, but that's okay. I actually only come to climb at Summit when I feel like having a rest day, and like most of Summit's new climbers Yun Jun could speak fairly decent English, so we were able to have an enjoyable conversation while we weren't climbing.

Probably the best part of the evening though, was when I paid $0.50 and had my shoes de-odourised. My climbing shoes have been emitting an absolutely abysmal smell for the last six months or so, which has not been helped in any way by the fact I lock them up in an unventilated locker after I sweat in them for three hours while climbing three times a week at Ace. I'm not sure how the deodourising machine works exactly, but Mr. Chang sprayed them with something from a labeless plant sprayer bottle, then he stuck them in a plastic microwave-like machine, and 8 minutes later they came out being much much less smelly. Now I don't have to feel embarrassed when I take my shoes on the subway and it smells like someone peed in my bag.

Speaking of shoes, my roommates bought a new shoe rack to clean up the front entrance. Here's a picture of what the new entrance looks like.

All of these shoes were on the floor of our ridiculously tiny front entrance (about 3 feet by 5 feet). There were so many shoes on the floor, that one of my room mates actually forgot which ones were his and thought that one of his own pair of shoes was mine. However, not all animals are created equal here. Only one of these pairs of shoes are mine. If you consider that each of these shoes averages $50 a piece (most of the shoes in Korea are just knock-offs), that's over $500 worth of shoes for my roommates. My shoes, on the other hand, were $150, but I got them for free, because I used to work at a running shoe store and I sold more than $1000 in one sale to one customer.

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 3: In Which DFM Is Told He Smells Pretty, But Is Also That He Should Put A Paper Bag On His Head

Today was my first day of teaching. I won't bore everyone with all the details of every day this year, but things would seem to have started ominously as I somehow managed to mistime my journey and arrive an hour and a half early. This led to an awkward conversation between myself and the director who had very limited knowledge of English. I salvaged the situation though when I managed to "accidentally" under guessed her age by 10 years (34 v. 44), thus finding myself rewarded with the most delicious citrus juice in the world from the famous Jeju island.

Once I got into the class and started teaching though, things were back to normal and I felt like I had never left. Although it was a different school the children behaved exactly the same as my other students. They asked if I was a friend of their old teacher, J.M., and when I said I was they fell down with excitement (or horror) and squealed with delight. After that I was called J.M. or Seth (yup, the same teacher who taught at my other school and for whom I was also mistaken also appears to have taught here too) or Canada Teacher by all the students. I suspected they were having me on though, so when one of the girls asked me what my name was I said "J.M." She scrunched up her face and said, "nooo!" So I thought about it and said, "Seth." "Noooo!" "Hmm... DFM?" "Yes! Good job." "Thank-you."

Another humourous situation involved my bodywash. I have a bodywash by L'Oreal I use every day. One of the young girls smelled it and said that I stunk. But then later one of the boys smelled my arm and said "pretty!" He then proceeded to try and smell the rest of me. I'm not sure what the marketers of L'Oreal Body Wash for men would think about this, or even what I think about it. It may just another or the many closeted aspects of Korean culture I've yet to learn about though.

After work I went to Ace to buy a three month membership and start getting back into climbing shape. Last time I was here I completely ignored every balancing muscle to climbing in my body and paid the price for it with a months long recovery process for a destroyed shoulder. This time I have undertaken a daily push up and neck routine in my room (finally I have a room big enough in which to do push ups), and a bench press, shoulder press/rotator cuff program at Ace Climbing Centre's workout area. If the results are impressive I'll post an article on The Kindergarten Cop blog.

While climbing I managed to communicate to the regulars in limited, but well chosen Korean. I was quite proud of myself since I have endeavoured to learn at least two new Korean words or phrases every day for the remainder of my stay, and this was a sign that my work up until this point was starting to pay off. Earlier in the day I was even told that if I put a bag over my head people would think I was Korean. Unfortunately the comments about my Koreanisation have not all filled me with joy. Ji-hyeun told me that when she hears me speak English now, she sometimes thinks I am not a Native Speaker (It's official, I speak Konglish).

Episode 49: In Which DFM Has A Special Moment Involving Candy And A Child And Gets Adopted By A Korean Family

Today was supposed to be a picnic day. I was told to wear something "relaxed" so I showed up in my track pants and T-shirt, but the picnic got cancelled because it was too windy out. Luckily I suspected something like this might happen and I brought a change of clothes. My mother would be proud.

All the kids were in their red sweat suits in preparation for the picnic, so they were all confused about the protocol and seemed to be extra wild. They were still as cute as ever though.

Just some extra pics I threw in here because they make me smile.

Some of the five year olds have started taking Tae Kwon Do. A few of them will do random demonstrations like this guy, but mostly they just try to punch me in the leg or stomach or testicles.

There is one class of five year olds that is especially wild, and this table is usually the center of all of the action - if someone is crying you can bet it came from this table. Usually the boy on the left of this picture has taken some one's crayon or scrunched up her picture. Today though, the girl on the right figured out that if she used her teeth she could take apart the plastic cases on all the crayons, lose the ends, and break the crayon inside. Soon the whole table joined suit; it was a disaster.

There's nothing special going on here, but I like how the boy doing the splits is perfectly framed between the two heads in the front.

If John Kimble were teaching this class the caption would read, "how many whistle blows?" "THREEEE!!!!" (I wish the teacher were holding up two fingers instead).

Hurray! Home time!

I didn't get a picture at the time because I did not want to ruin the moment, but this girl above (picture taken on a different day) was waiting for her bus after school, and she tried to formulate her own sentences using very limited English. She said "candy," and then pointed at her back pack and said "bag," which I took to mean that she had candy in her bag. Then she took some candy out and gave me a really tasty lollipop. As an English teacher it felt good to see her trying her best to communicate with me when before she could not communicate at all. I'm now motivated to learn even more Korean so that I can experience this joy too. I also realize that I need to learn some more verbs. The whole moment was something that a picture could not have captured even if I had taken one. I think it is best summed up with the statement, "you know Peggy, I think they like me. More importantly I think they like English."

After climbing I was invited to Sung Bok's home for another Korean meal. Apparently my visit was a big deal, and his mother prepared a feast for me. I felt bad that I couldn't eat it all, because she had obviously worked very hard on it. His father told me that because of me his whole family was studying English very hard and that this made him happy. He also told me that I was now part of the family and was welcome in his home any time, for the rest of my life.

After dinner "the men" went out to play billiards. Many Koreans play a form of billiards called "three cushion." There are no pockets, and you can strike any of the balls as long as it hits three cushions before... actually I have no idea how it's played. Sung Bok's father played three cushion with the pool hall's manager, while Sung Bok and I played your standard six pocket version of pool.

Episode 48: In Which DFM Wreaks Havoc on Korean Law And Order And Wags His Finger At English Ethnocentrism

When I got to school today this girl was waiting around and seemed to be one of the first students there.  She sat beside me on this bench and put her shoes on with me.  The school's hedgehogs have had some babies, so this girl was keen to tell me about the new baby in her family.  I didn't understand what she was saying, but it seemed to be positive so I gave her a high five (I'll feel like an idiot if I find out later she was telling me the baby died).

It's hard to pick a favourite student since so many of them make me laugh, but if I had to pull a Peggy Hill and "accidentally" take one of the kids back to Canada with me it would be this girl with the golden smile (and the Minnie Mouse ears).

I can't walk down the hallways without causing whatever line I'm sure the teacher worked very hard to put her children in disintegrate.  Luckily I was going to the same class as these children, because by the time they stopped to say "hello" to me fifteen times they were way behind their classmates.  I also got a chance to try out my new Korean word "kapshida," which means "let's go!"  Actually, it's not a new word for me, but I don't know the polite way to use this word so I've had to wait until I could find someone younger than me in order to use it properly (remember the rigid hierarchy here).

This boy made me take a picture of him with his glue.  He was pretty proud because it was a new glue, fresh out of the package.

I don't know what caused it, but Eugene Park (at the back) and the boy in the front were engaged in a silly dance here.  (Note:  Park, like Lee, is a surname that does not exist in the Korean language.  It is pronounced "Pock.")

The six year olds were making pictures of ants by cutting out circles in newspaper and glueing them onto a sheet of paper (part of some "Newspaper In Education" fad going through the countries schools).  Many of the kids wanted to show their pictures to me.  At the top of the page you can see that this girl had drawn every picture for which she knew the English name.

I think this was probably Thomas the "Shark Boy" again.  Take a minute to look at some of the items he included in his ant picture.  I think he was trying to spell "car," but I'm not sure.

More London ethnocentrism here.  A "famous building in Great Britain" is Big Ben.  I can't deny that, but you'd think that Great Britain was England after using this book (the children already do).  Sadly, Fight Girl (colouring) had developed a bit of a fever towards the end of the day, so she had lost some of her usual spunk.

I'm not sure how this girl made it, but if you wear a hat like this you're going to get in my blog.

Episode 44: In Which DFM Walks A Third Of The Way Across The City, In The Wrong Direction!

With my mountain half-marathon only one week away I thought I would get in one last training session by hiking.  I haven't been doing any running to speak of, but I've been doing a lot of hiking, since mountain half-marathons are more about hiking than running anyways, I've found.

A couple of weeks ago I blazed up Baegundae, but then I got sick afterwards.  Today was my first time hiking since then and I wanted something a bit easier so I went for a nearby mountain, Dobongsan, which is about 100 meters smaller, but still the second highest mountain I will have hiked here.

It was a beautiful day.  When I stepped off the train I found this beautiful blue building, with a blue greenhouse type structure in front of it, and if you look off to the left you'll see a blue bus driving past.  I should have taken the picture earlier and then the bus would have been in front and the whole picture would have been blue.

All the way up to the start of the trails were dozens of shops all selling hiking gear/paraphernalia.  The North Face shop decided to get some extra attention by putting this giant statue out in front, but I still wonder how it can be good for business to be right beside three other shop owners all selling the same thing.  I guess there are thousands of hikers walking down this street every week, so the law of averages says that eventually one of them will stop and buy something, but I still don't understand how so many identical businesses can survive in the same area.

I tried to run up the mountain like I did two weeks ago, but I was so stunned by the scenery that I kept stopping to take pictures.

I'm rather partial to rocks and paths, so these are the things of which I took the most pictures.

Eventually, after a couple hours of running and then stopping to take pictures, I finally reached the summit of Jaunbong ("Ja-oon" is the name, and bong means peak).  The view from the top was fantastic in all directions.

Of course you can't have an unscalable peak in Korea without some Koreans trying to scale it in order to have a picnic on the top (click the last picture to enlarge it and see).

On the way back I took my usual wrong turn and found myself in a valley between two peaks.  By the time I realized I was going the wrong way it was too late and I couldn't make it back up since the footing was so bad and the slope was too steep.  Everywhere in the picture that you see leaves is a minefield of disaster.  One spot might be solid, but the next step can drop you a foot without warning and smash your ankle or shin against a hidden rock.  Stuck between a rock and a hard place (literally, sometimes) I had no choice but to keep playing a painful game of Korean  roulette, as I tried to guess at the nature of the footing below each step the rest of the way down.

At the top of the picture you can see a giant pile of boulders.  I decided to lower my self into the area in the middle of the picture, without the leaves, for some more solid and less sporadic footing.  Unfortunately I stepped on some leaves and slid right off the boulder.  The landing was a smattering of small, sharp boulders with dark shadows between them that hid large holes.  Luckily I kept my wits about me and landed one footed on the sharp edge of one of the boulders.  Had I missed I would have suffered a severely sprained ankle... or worse.

Eventually I came across a sign that said "do not enter."  Well, I think that's what it said, it was in Korean but there was a picture of a "safety bear" with its hands up so I feel confident making that conclusion.  It was nice of the park rangers to keep hikers on the trail, but they could have used one at the top end of the valley because when I came across the sign I was on the wrong side.

I jumped across a creek and finally found my way back on a packed trail.  I had no idea where I was, but I soon ran into a group of Korean men on their way home.  Korean hikers are notoriously friendly and they were so impressed with my Korean (we've already established that I can barely speak it) that they invited me along with them to have dinner.  Actually my Korean has improved a fair bit and although I can't speak much of it, I can understand basic questions about myself and could tell them where I was from and when I had come to Korea, and for how long I was staying and where I was staying, etc when they asked.  It was a high pressure situation since very few of them spoke any English and they kept asking me more and more about myself, but I managed to pass and they knew the phrase "very good," and kept using that in reference to my Korean.

We stopped in at a Korean-Chinese restaurant and had some jajangmyeon, which is a bowl of spaghetti in black-bean sauce with some unkown beans and vegetables thrown in for good measure.

On the way to dinner, and afterwards everyone took turns teaching me the name of a new tree.  I can only remember a couple of them, but at least I now know what a "tree" and "teacher" are in Korean, which helps me catch up to my students.

It was actually quite  a lucky break to come across this group of hikers.  I had lost my bearings on my trip down the valley and when I came out I had no idea where I was.  It turned out that I had crossed the entire Bukhansan National Park and was on the other side.  When I had started my hike I was in North East Seoul, in Dobong-gu, but when I finished I was in Eunpyeong-gu, four administrative districts over!

The hikers helped me find the hidden bus stop and rode the bus back with me to the subway station.  There was a white girl on our train, and my new friends all thought it was necessary to point out to me that she was a foreigner like me (as if I couldn't tell).

I had started my trip at 1 PM, but I didn't get back to Itaewon station until 8 PM.  I was pretty exhausted and I wanted to refresh myself, so I took a trip over to the nearby sauna.  

I still don't believe in the sulphur water claim, but the process of going from hot to cold water repeatedly sure did make me feel a lot better.  On the way home I felt no fatigue from the hike whatsoever.  In fact I was even more refreshed than I thought I would be.  There really is something to this sauna phenomenon and I wish we had it in Canada.

Episode 43: In Which DFM Sneaks Some Photgraphs Through The Bushes And Becomes A "Genius"

My Lonely Planet travel guide said that if I could only see one art gallery it should be the Leeum Art Museum.  The name Leeum comes from the name of the architect, Lee, and the suffix "-um" from museum. (Actually the name Lee does not exist in Korea, it's pronounced "Ee," and the L- is only added for Westerners who find it hard to imagine a culture other than their own)

I originally attempted to enjoy the art without one of these digital guides, but soon found that I couldn't tell the difference between one piece of green pottery and the next (called Celadon).  For an extra $2 I was given this Samsung PDA (fitting since Samsung sponsored the Leeum) and a sensor in the ground would inform the PDA what each piece of new art work was and I'd hear a voice tell me about it.  It was definitely worth the $2 because the digital guide pointed out many key points I would have missed and helped describe exactly why each piece of seemingly identical green pottery was so "fascinating."

The Leeum was divided into two sections.  One building featured traditional Korean art (four floors), and another building, connected by the main lobby, housed the modern, international and contemporary art (three floors).

The fourth floor of the traditional gallery had all of the Celadon pottery (the museum starts at the top and works its way down).  As I mentioned before, to the untrained eye (like mine) it just looked like a bunch of green pottery.  Of note was a Celadon pillow.  It's a hard, ceramic box that is used for sleeping on... yup.  The most impressive thing about this gallery is that the majority of the pieces in the collection were from the 12th and 13th century.  That pieces of pottery could survive in perfect or near perfect condition through three wars/occupations over 800 years is mind boggling to me.

The next floor had some sand-coloured pottery called Buncheong Ware and some blue and white porcelain.  It was nice to see some pieces that were less monochromatic, but still just a bunch of pottery if I'm honest.

The second floor featured some neat paintings, mostly of birds and flowers with ink, on giant vertical blinds.

The bottom floor had metal works, but I had seen most of these at the National Museum of Korea, so I rushed through this area.

Museum two was where I found the real interesting stuff.  Of course there were the obligatory paintings of anguish and sorrow by troubled artists who would later commit suicide, but for the most part I found some really interesting pieces by artists who are still alive.  

The highlight was a giant 15 foot long mirror with horizontal shelves filled with thousands of prescription pills  painstakingly arranged in a way so that they were all perfectly and evenly spaced.  It was supposed to be a comment on a society addicted to drugs.

I would definitely recommend the Leeum museum to any visitors, if only for the modern art museum, but make sure you get the digital guide or else you'll be done in under an hour and feel less than satisfied.

You might have noticed that there were no pictures of any of the artwork I mentioned above.  This is because photography was not allowed inside the galleries, but hat did not stop everyone else from trying.  I was pleased to see them get a talking to by some tall security guards in pink coats (they looked funny, but at least you could always find them).  The door knobs were interesting and were some of the few items we could photograph.

The stair well in the first museum was of a fascinating spiral design with slim vertical windows evenly spaced along the inside wall.

I thought this was just an interesting decoration on the wall, but I think it was actually one of the pieces of artwork.  I don't think I was supposed to photograph this, but I'm sure the artist won't starve any more than he would have for being an artist in the first place.

Up until now I thought that Itaewon was a giant dump.  And to be honest it still is, but just north of Itaewonno (the main street) is this amazing neighbourhood with fantastic houses.  I was drawn up a side street to look at this place and I found a special surprise.

This giant spider is part of a special collection of the Leeum Museum.  I wasn't allowed to see it before because it is only available by reservation on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  But, it's only guarded by a small hedge and I was able to snap a few pictures from the outside.  Very shortly after I took this picture I saw the pink coated security officers coming to tell me to stop,  so I played dumb and just walked away before they could get to me.

Today was also the day of the monthly climbing competition at Ace.  Here we are waiting around for Choi to make the teams and for stragglers to arrive.  Speaking of stragglers, I came in just before the competition was to start and Ji-Hyeun told me she had just finished telling everyone she was surprised I wasn't there.  I told her that I never miss a competition.

Since I easily won the last competition in the Experienced division, I decided to move up to the top category with the hardest routes.  I knew I would lose, but I agree with Robert Browning that a man's grasp should exceed his reach, and I feel that occasionally pushing myself to try routes outside of my current abilities will change my perceptions of what's possible and help me get better in the long run.

After the competition Choi set up a giant feast in the gym for everyone.  There were delicious Korean strawberries (the sweetest in the World, I think), pigs feet, dotorimuk - pine cone pudding (or as it was described to me, "pudding from the food of mountiain mice" - squirrels), rice cakes, and just about anything else you could imagine.  Ace Climbing Center is like one big family, and as you can tell from the pictures everyone had a lot of fun.

I showed off some of my improving Korean, and some of the members who had not met me before thought I must be some sort of genius.  It saddens me that so few foreigners take the time to learn Korean that the simple act of learning the Korean name for strawberry grants a person "genius" status.

I also took time to share with everyone the wonders of Sasuke.  One of my converts told me, "I cannot understand all the words you say, but I can feel your excitement, and now I want to see."