Learning to Share

First the umbrella.

Then my shoes.

Now my pen.

Somebody (mistakingly?) took my brand new umbrella from a restaurant one day a few months back and I was stuck walking home in the rain without an umbrella.

Then, a few weeks ago, I arrived to school one morning and opened my personal shoe cupboard at the front doors of the school, only to find it empty. My indoor slippers had been removed from my cupboard. Since then I haven't brought myself to buy new $5 slippers and have instead been wearing guest slippers.

Now, today, I leave my desk for an hour at lunch to go to the bank to wire money back home (exchange rates are in my favor right now!), only to return to find my pen missing from my desk. My pen that I bought for myself and that I have become quite attached to, as I often do to a good, solid pen.

Trivial these things may be, but it's the principal behind my complaints that I'm getting at here. I realize that Korea is a collective culture where everybody shares everything from food on the plate to a tiny tangerine to picking up up the WHOLE tab after a meal (never do Koreans split the tab, it's always only one person who pays for everything and next time the next person will pay).

Truthfully, I enjoy this aspect of the culture in many ways and wish Western societies would take a few hints. I am trying my best to get myself in a what's-mine-is-yours mentality with just about everything in my life here. I think we could all learn to share just a little more, especially those of us who come from cultures where individualism is so highly emphasized.

BUT, when people just TAKE things that don't belong to them--let's say, umbrellas when it's raining outside, shoes that a person needs to wear while in school, pens on a person's personal desk--I can't help but get mildly frustrated for a short while (hence the current venting).

At the end of the day, though, and by the end of my year here, I know these things will have been long forgotten. My new umbrella, slippers and pen will be but minute details of my story of having lived in Korea, masked by many larger, more significant experiences. And, I can only hope to come back home feeling at least slightly more inclined to share a bit more with those around me.

Yet, I can't help but end with a related story:

A month or two ago I camped overnight in Jirisan National Park with a few guy friends. When I say camped, though, I don't mean in tents. Here it is quite common to stay in shelters, which are set up for serious (or not so serious) hikers in the mountains who wish to stay overnight without the ruggedness of sleeping out of doors. I have only stayed in one shelter thus far, but I imagine most of similar. There is a large two-story heated sleeping room, the upper level for women and lower level for men. I paid about US$7 to sleep here, in addition to $2 for two blankets. I was assigned a number and (although I didn't) was intended to sleep in that numbered spot. There are tables out in front of the shelter for hikers and overnight campers to use for meals or a little R&R. Then, attached to the side of the shelter is a cooking room, so to speak. This one was covered, but not heated, and had one long metal table around hip-height that people can stand around at which to cook and eat.

That was all irrelevant to the story. But now you know about mountain shelters in Korea. On with my story:

So, that Saturday evening my two friends and I had joined two other groups of about five people each at the long metal table. Each respective group was on either end, so we took our stance in the middle. Aside from myself, there was only one other female, the rest were men ranging in age from about mid-30s to mid-50s. Both groups were cooking up pork on a flat-iron grill, along with vegetables and garlic cloves and the works, as they do often here in Korea. And of course, there was kimchi and other side dishes. And soju. Korean's don't seem to go hiking or camping--let alone out to a restaurant for a meal--without it.

My friends and I started setting up to cook our evening meal. Before we knew it, we had hot sizzling pork, garlic cloves and kimchi coming our way (people here are certainly some of the most generous there are around). Then came the shots of soju. The soju just kept coming, and coming... and coming. It didn't stop. Between the little English the Koreans spoke and what little Korean one of my friends spoke--and the soju--we spent all evening eating and talking (or, interacting on non-verbal levels) with one another. People were getting more and more drunk and suddenly there was an arm-wrestling match happening between my friend and the man who was by far the most drunk in the room. It was quite the elaborate show that the man put on, squatting down in proper arm-wrestling stance, then standing up straight and insisting that they take another shot of soju before re-positioning himself in arm-wrestling position. Then, it was to take the jacket off. Then the shirt. Then to gather money from us innocent bystanders as a bet on who would win. Finally, they went for it.

I'm not sure how it happened, but very soon thereafter I found myself in an arm-wrestling match with a different man, but not without first taking what they call a "love shot." A small bowl (literally) was filled with soju for me and the man and I linked arms like a bride and groom at their wedding as we downed way too much soju in one gulp. Then some of the men started calling me "Captain"--although I'm not sure why. Then my other friend was also invited to an arm-wrestling match with another guy. There was not lack of laughs that evening.

Somewhere in between all the pork and soju and arm-wrestling, I was given some candy and chocolate from a handful of the men in the room for a little holiday called White Day, where I guess women are given candy by men (I'll have to look into the details of White Day). So, I had set all my candy on the table in front of me in a neat little pile. Then, right before the festivities ended (and after we'd been shushed already by the shelter's manager because it was just about quiet time), I suddenly noticed that half my candy was missing. I turned to my friend Paul, a little on the tipsy side, and said to him (probably louder than I thought due to the extreme amounts of soju consumed that evening) "Somebody stole my candy! Somebody STOLE my candy!"

Not more than 20 seconds later, we noticed the eldest looking man in the room (but not the beligerant arm-wrestling maniac) sneak his hand over to my pile of candy, pick up one of the remaining two pieces and start playing with it. He'd toss it up in the air, rattle it in his hand, put it down, pick it up. As Paul and I were making our best attempts at covertly watching this man actively steal my candy we were having a good laugh about it.

I only looked away for a second, I swear. The remaining bits of candy were gone. My entire chocolate bar and several other candies, that were given to me as a GIFT, went into somebody else's belly that night and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. Elders have the utmost respect here and nobody messes with them, so to call the man out on stealing an innocent foreigner's candy would have been rude and inappropriate so I had no choice but to let it be and go without dessert that night.

So basically, I should have told you to skip to the end so you could read that my beloved chocolate was stolen from right underneath me by a middle-aged drunk Korean man, adding to my growing list of things taken from me while living in Korea.

Good thing I'm learning how to share.

Tragedy Hits Home--In Korea

On March 26, a South Korean navy ship mysteriously sank near the border with North Korea. Now, a month later, most South Koreans speculate that this was a tragedy caused by the North Koreans, but the government has yet to confirm these speculations. The latest I have read is that the explosion was due to a "close-range blast" that could have been from a torpedo or underwater mine.

A coworker of mine has, on several occasions, expressed his concerns that the two countries will have to go to war, as South Korea has no choice but to take revenge on its 'enemy'. A student told me the same thing a week ago. I'm not sure that I see that happening, given the long history and ongoing tensions between the two countries that has created a constant threat of war, but what do I know?

Today in the teacher's office a small black ribbon was handed out for each teacher to wear until Thursday as part of a national five-day period of mourning for the 46 sailors who lost their lives on the ship (and the six who remain missing). That same coworker made sure I got a ribbon also (since I was skipped the first time around, the woman probably assuming that as a foreigner it wasn't necessary). Tomorrow there will be a national moment of silence and Thursday will hold a mass funeral for the sailors. South Koreans are extremely disturbed by what happened and very sad for their loss.

Indirectly related, yesterday I watched a Korean movie with two friends about the Korean War called Taegukgi (in Korea they have what is called a DVD Bang, or DVD room, where you can pick out a movie and watch it on big screen in your own room with a couch). I was reminded of many other war movies I've seen in the past, but it felt really special to watch a Korean-made movie about the war while living in Korea--despite the grotesqueness and sadness of it all.

Korea's history is fascinating and I wish I knew more. Admittedly, I haven't taken the time to really learn anything beyond the very basics of Korean history, but it is evident to me that Koreans still hold on very tightly to their past.

I suppose being such a small country who has continuously been battered and beaten by larger, more powerful societies might do that to a people...

Unanticipated Delights and Unavoidable Annoyances

It was a beautiful weekend in Jinju. The sun was out and there was actually warmth in the air. My friend Megan and I had just set out on our bikes to relax by the riverside with our books and chips and salsa (a rare treat here, and our mutual birthday present to one another), when our other friend rang to ask if we'd like to join him and his Korean friend on a little outing in search of dinasaur fossils and a lotus pond. Relaxing by the riverside, maybe a nap in the sun, would have been a perfectly enjoyable afternoon, but dinasaur fossils and a lotus pond?! Even better.

We took the bikes home and jumped in the car, our first stop to search for fossils. We had to stop a handful of times to ask the locals where to go, and had to turn our car around double the number of times. We finally found the spot and parked the car, but never found the fossils. Instead, we opted to sit on some rocks on the river and devour our chips and salsa.

Next stop, lotus pond. We found this much easier than we did the fossils. (Have I mentioned that EVERY SINGLE car in Korea has a GPS on its dash? I can't decide if Koreans should have no excuse to get lost, or if they've sadly lost all ability to navigate without the aid of technology). But, turns out, the lotus flowers don't actually bloom until July or August.

Damn, 0-2. Luckily the company was good :)

Megan's coteacher was performing a ballet dance of sorts that evening at Jinju's arts and cultural hall and had insisted that Megan go watch. So, the four of us walked into a huge auditorium full of women in their 50s to watch the show, which turned out to be part of the Jinju Girl's High School reunion. So there we were, three waygooks (foreigners) and a young male Korean university student standing in the back amidst hundreds of middle-aged Korean women at their high school reunion. We got a good laugh as we watched a slideshow of photos meaningless to us, but likely very meaningful to many of those women, and a music performance by a group of alum. Then it was Megan's coteacher's turn to shine on stage in her baby blue tu-tu. What a riot.

The day couldn't have been any less random or any more enjoyable. We topped it off by going out for a burger and fries and a local burger chain (that's a step up from fast food). It was my second hamburger since living in Korea (my first one being at the local McDonalds; it had been YEARS since I'd eaten a hamburger at McDonald's, but sometimes here I crave non-Korean food).

My weeks are full of unanticipated delights like these. Moments, interactions, or outings that make me smile to myself and think "I love my life." Korea has been good to me and I can only hope my last 7 months bring as much joy as my first (almost) 5 have.

That's not to say there aren't things here that, get on my nerves, so to speak. The majority of times these things don't bother me, but on the occasion that I'm a little extra irritable that day, there are things that can be mildly annoying (or rather, things that are just different that what I'm used to).

Maybe it's because Korea has one of the higher population densities in the world. Maybe it really is just a cultural thing. But, to someone from a Western culture where it's considered polite to move out of the way for others and impolite to step directly in front of others, Korean people seem oblivious to the people around them! I can be walking down the sidewalk and people won't notice that there is somebody who would like to get by. People will stop on a dime when they're walking in front of you and not even know that I'm behind them wanting to continue moving forward. People will step out in front of me and just stand there, blocking my way, and if I put a hand on their shoulder or back there's only a slight chance they'll move--and only a few inches at that, if I'm lucky. I know this doesn't stem from true oblivion, and I certainly don't blame individual people for this because I know it's a cultural, country wide phenomena. But it can be so damn frustrating at times!!!

Also, nobody says "excuse me" here. It goes hand-in-hand with not moving out of peoples' ways, I suppose. This, however, doesn't bother me so much as the act of not moving for a passerby. I just find it interesting.

Coming from a place where pedestrians always have the right-of-way, it's a difficult adjustment to make in the land of pedestrians NEVER have the right-of-way. I've never been so alert in my life when it comes to crossing the street in a small lightless intersection... or parking lot, or small sidestreet, or alley. HOWEVER, there is one thing that warrents pedestrians the complete right of way. This happens at the real crosswalks where there are lights and a green man appears giving pedestrians the right to walk freely into the street without (too much) fear of being run over (apparently Korea has one of the highest rates of traffic accidents, or traffic-related deaths, or something like that--mom, you didn't just read that).

Don't even get me started on the driving. Not only does it appear to the non-Korean that people don't obey a single rule on the road, but taxis, motorbikes and buses will run red lights all the time (and I'm talking after they already come to a full stop at the red light--they just decide to go on through it before it turns green again). If a car is going to run straight through a red light without stopping, they just lay on the horn to warn everybody that they're coming through. Cars will be parked anywhere--on the sidewalks, behind other cars, you name it. Most cars here are left in neutral and have the cell phone number of the owner on the front dash in case they've blocked a car in and somebody needs to move a car or call the owner to move the car.

Plastic surgery and vanity. Yep, that's right. Women--and many men--are constantly checking themselves in car windows or on their cell phones, pulling single strands of hair into the perfectly desired position. Women always pull out hand mirrors so they can check their appearance and apply a new layer of makeup. I've seriously, no exaggeration, witnessed young women and girls look at themselves on their cell phones for a solid five minutes straight, no interruption. I don't understand it, but it's part of the culture here so I have to just go with it. Generally speaking, Korean men and women alike always look nicely groomed and are well-dressed. Name brands are a big deal here, as are t-shirts and sweatshirts with writing on them, so even when somebody is in their 'sweats' they look good. It's not quite like back home, where I wear my sweats and look like I just rolled out of bed (which most of the time I probably did).

And the plastic surgery--I've heard on several occasions that high school girls will get money for their graduation gift that is to go toward getting plastic surgery on their eyelids. SO MANY young women have had this surgery to create an extra fold in the eyelid. I've seen many a young woman--even high school age--walking around with an eye patch on that can only mean one thing. And it doesn't just stop with the eyes, but now we're talking the same things found in American women.

Appearance just seems to be one of the most important things in Korea and sometimes it makes me feel like a slob, that's all.

I know we have our own vanity issues back home, trust me. It's just interesting to find a whole new set of insecurities in women that don't exist to the same extent back home, as well as think about those that exist in America, but not here in Korea.

Being a woman can be tough (sorry, I just watched a bunch of incredible women put on the Vagina Monologues in Jinju so I am feeling not only empowered but also a bit like lashing out about how it's such a man's world... stopping now).

I think this is a good place to put a halt on my boring tendancy toward verbosity...

TGIF

Just about every week, something changes in our schedule at school. And these changes are always last minute and I'm never told of them until they are actually happening, nor am I ever given a reason as to why they are happening. Today, Friday, my first period class was unexpectedly switched with third period (for a reason unknown to me, which is usually the case). So, I figured all first and third periods were switched and headed to my third period class come the first period bell. But, there was another teacher in there already so I just came back to my desk and didn't have to teach a first period, which brings my shedule down to teaching two classes today.

I love Fridays.


Lunch time is a total of an hour and ten minutes here, from the time the lunch bell rings to the time the fifth period bell rings. Every day, at about 1:20pm (lunch is from 12:40 to 1:50), a science teacher comes up to my desk to ask me how I am doing on that day and if he can take a seat. He's very interested in practicing his English, which is mediocre at best. But hey, at least he's trying, right? Everyday, we talk about the weather. And spring and how the flowers are blooming and the leaves will soon sprout. And, he usually teaches me something about plants here, since I think he's a gardener/farmer. Every other week he and his wife visit his hometown, about half hour from Jinju, where his mother and aunts and uncles still live and farm. They go hiking and pick wild mountain herbs and tend to their orchards and gardens. It sounds pretty amazing, and he's invited me to come along at any time.

The sun is out today, finally. I think tomorrow's weather will be nice, but it is still teasing us because it's supposed to go back to grey skies come Sunday.

Stuck in the Oncoming of Spring

With the exception of higher than average rainfall and lower than average temperature, spring is here. True, it has not yet been the most glamorous of springs I have ever experienced and we are constantly teased by one or two nice days followed by another 10 days of clouds and cold rain, but most of the tell-tale signs are still present.

The cherry blossoms have mostly come and gone now, but other colors continue to pop out in random corners of Jinju. Azaleas are omnipresent here, it seems, as are the forsythia (which remind me of driving over the Chambers overpass back home). I swear I've begun to hear more birds chirping; but even if that's not the case, I have witnessed birds mating so that's got to count for something, right? And, one of my favorites is the large crop of bright yellow canola flowers that line the river for a few hundred meters. I've watched these flowers go from a two-inch high boring and mysterious green plant to a hip-height and vibrant colored field of flowers that seems to be full of life these days. Everytime I pass by them along the river, there are several families, young couples and a few serious looking photographers taking pictures of and with the flowers. I have seen so many toddlers be thrown in the middle of these friendly yellow flowers at the discretion of their parents, who are hoping for one of those adorable and cliche children-in-the-flowers shots.

Although color is starting to emerge in this otherwise drab city (aside from the neon lights and colored fountain at night, of course), the trees seem slow to sprout leaves and I am feeling anxious for green. When the green finally does come, however, I have no doubt that Korea's natural beauty will be stunning. Hiking in the moountains right now is great, but everything is brown. And this can only mean that when there are finally leaves on the trees everything will be a bright and shiny green!

The oncoming of spring has been slow. I feel like we've been on the verge of this delightful season for quite some time. BUT, I have tried to take advantage of the few nice days and I still have that increased energy and desire to do things, unlike the winter. Arriving to Korea at the beginning of winter gave me a slow start to "doing things" here in Jinju and around Korea. The cold temperatures felt at times unbearable, and after coming home after school the last thing I'd every want to do was leave my warm, cozy apartment and head back out into the cold. Brrrr.

But now, it's different.

Often times people will ask me what I do on my weeknights here, what my life is like outside of teaching over 700 crazy, hormonal young boys. Sometimes I stay home, watch a movie or some television series online (thank goodness for the internet). Sometimes I work (ugh, I know). But lately, I've been allowing myself a life. A small group of friends and I have been alternating weeks in which we'll host and cook a meal for one another. I decided to play host on my birthday--what better way to celebrate than with good people? I have spent a handful of evenings riding my bike along the river path, sometimes ending up at a friends place and other times ending up at the lake. God life is good.

This past week has been a solid week. Monday I enjoyed my favorite soup (mandu guk, or dumpling soup) with friends. Tuesday I went for a run with three other young women living in Jinju (it was our first official meeting for our newly founded "Women's Running Club of Jinju", haha). Wednesday I hit up the indoor rock climbing gym with a group of six others. Tonight I'm going to enjoy some home-cooked food, wine and a movie with my two Kiwi buddies (they fulfill my desire for a little testosterone in my life from time to time, being the tomboy that I am). And finally, Friday night is the opening show of the Vagina Monologues that a bunch of foreign teachers in and around Jinju have been working hard on for the past few months--with an after party of sorts, naturally.

Ta-dah! There goes the week and it's the weekend. Keeping busy in the evenings gets me through the week and I feel so grateful to have such wonderful friends and opportunities.

Now, it's time to wash out my coffee cup and head home for the day. I've got a date this evening with some good wine, good food and good company.

I PROMISE I WILL POST MORE PICTURES SOON!

Toasted Longings

There are probably only a few people who are aware of my love for toast. Especially peanut butter toast. Sometimes with cinnamon-sugar sprinkled on top (if you've never tried it, you should). Unfortunately, here in Korea, I don't have a toaster (oh the horror!). That is going to change today.

Today after school I am going to march myself over to E-Mart (the three-story store that has almost anything one might need) and buy myself the $20 toaster I've been eyeing for oh, about three months. A few of my friends here were lucky enough to have a toaster included in their apartments when they moved in. Mine, on the other hand, came equipped with a microwave, rice cooker and hot shot tea kettle to heat water (which, just like heated floors, I don't think I can ever live without again). I thought I'd try to go for as long as possible without a toaster and try to live more like a Korean, but I just can't take it any longer!

I want toast. I want buttered toast, and peanut butter toast and toast with jam. And this evening, I'm gonna get it.

There are certainly other things I miss in addition to the option of having toast as often as I'd like. For starters, and speaking of toast, you can't find good bread here. The only loaves of bread in the grocery store are soft, fluffy white bread. I found a wheat-ish type of bread one time that was about $3 for a half loaf, so unfortunately that won't be coming home with my other routine grocery items. I thought I found some good (although still fluffy) wheat bread with walnuts in it, only to find after three days of eating it that the little chunks were not walnuts but red bean.

Ack! Red bean is EVERYWHERE here, inside every imaginable type of treat and many other types of food. It's not uncommon to buy a pastry at a bakery, only to find a mysterious red bean in the middle. Oh, the disappointment when you're expecting something like cinnamon-apple or berries in the middle!

I also miss cheese. There is NO good cheese here, with the exception of Laughing Cow squares or a small loaf of Land o' Lakes Jack cheese--both for about $8 and still hard to find in town. BUT, I am told I can buy a one pound block of Tillamook cheese--cheddar, pepperjack and more--at the Costco in Busan for about $8, a small price to pay for the feeling of being in cheese heaven after four months of NO cheese in my life. Going to Costco is on my list of things to do--and soon.

Coffee. This is another thing that I desperatly miss here. Even a small, conservative city like Jinju is ridden with coffee shops and truthfully, they aren't too bad. Coffee and espresso is a little on the expensive side in these shops though, probably comparable to buying coffee in New York City or something. And interestingly, regular brewed coffee is nearly just as expensive as espresso drinks, at over $3 for a small brewed coffee (espresso drinks are closer to $4 for a small). AND none of the coffee shops (except the Starbucks) have milk or cream set out, so if you order a $3 coffee you're gonna drink it black. In fact, brace yourselves for this--I have actually been drinking green tea in the mornings at home now instead of coffee because I am so tired of the instant, sugary cofee that is most accessible here. UGH. There are only a few options for REAL coffee, and the 6 ounce bag of coffee beans is nearly $10!

I didn't set out to write all about food here, but I think that's where this post is turning to, because the next thing that comes to mind is cereal! Just like toast, cereal has played a HUGE role in my dietary habits for as long as I can remember. Cereal is absolutely one of my favorite foods, and I'll take it as a snack or an entire meal. I'll even happily eat it dry, without (soy) milk. Just like the abovementioned foods, cereal is available here but is extremely expensive and in small boxes so when I buy cereal, I buy it knowing that it's a luxury purchase and will likely be gone by the next day.

I need to stop. I am making myself hungry--and making you bored!

Nap Time

Who doesn't love a good afternoon nap? Well, imagine being able to take afternoon naps--or morning naps if that's your thing--AT WORK anytime you'd like. Yep, that's right. There is a women's lounge here at school, complete with a raised heated floor and pillows and blankets to utilize at one's leisure.

It took me about three months to venture into this room during school and wow, I can't believe I let it go that long. My first nap was AMAZING. I know I have mentioned my love for heated floors before, but OH MY GOD we need to bring them to the States. They seriously make life so much better when it's even moderately cold outside--especially when you've been sick and are tired from the six classes you've taught that day...

So, today my afternoon class is canceled, which means I don't have to teach for the rest of the day (it's now lunch time--and yes, I just returned from the feeding frenzy in the cafeteria jungle). Hmmm, shall I take a nap today? Sounds like a brilliant idea to me!

Welcome to the Jungle

There is one thing that stands out in my memory from my first day of school here. I wasn't teaching, but instead being dragged around to meet this person and say hello to that person. It was all pretty much a blur to me given my exhaustion from traveling and the time difference, but the one thing that momentarily snapped me out of my sleepwalking state of existence was the moment that the lunch bell rang. I happened to be following my coteacher out of the teacher's office at the exact moment the bell rang, and was suddenly overcome with sensory overload as hundreds of teenage boys ran through the halls and tumbled down the stairwells (my school is four stories tall) toward the cafeteria. I was in hysterics on the inside, full of amusement at the sight and sounds around me.

Nothing has changed, even four months later. I am still amused by the lunchtime rituals here at Jinju Jeil Middle School. Allow me to share my take on what is the hour of organized chaos at feeding time:

The bell rings at 12:40 most days. As I close class, I start to hear a low rumble. My class and I say our brief goodbye (which consists of the class leader saying in Korean something along the lines of "Attention. Bow." and having the entire class bow to me and my coteacher). The volume is suddenly excruciatingly loud in class and in the hallways and the rumble becomes as loud as the herd of elk I once ran into unexpectedly in the forest as they ran away from my dad, brother and I. Students are running, shouting, and simultaneously hitting and kicking one another as they make their way to the cafeteria.

On Tuesdays it's even worse, as I teach a first grade (7th grade) class--the youngsters in the school. You see, it's not like back home. Here, students line up by grade outside the cafeteria and wait until it's their turn (namely, when there's enough room for more students in the cafeteria because there are definitely not 1091 seats at the tables). So, getting to the front of the line the fastest means you eat first. Right now, first graders eat first. On Tuesdays, when I walk out into the hall after the bell rings, I must wade my way through a few hundred chest-high, black-haired, screaming and running first-graders as they all run in one direction down the hallway. I usually wait at the door of the classroom until the bulk of students go by, especially after I once saw a kid trip, fall and get trampled by fellow classmates--and because I need to walk against the flow of traffic to get back to the teacher's office. Somebody's gonna get hurt one of these days...

Once I get to the cafeteria, I am allowed to cut in line in front of the students. I grab my metal chopsticks and my metal spoon (for the soup) and my metal tray with six different compartments of varying size. I walk up to the counter and the kitchen ladies plop down the day's food in the corresponding compartment (soup, rice and side dishes all have their own special place, as we always have some type of soup, rice and a few side dishes every day). Then, I stop at a little table and throw on some kimchi or other optional side dishes for good measure.

School lunches in Korea are surprisingly good, at least relative to school lunches back home (unless they've changed). Rice varies from plain white rice, to a mixed variety of rice, to rice with varying types of beans in it. Soups may be anything from a clear salty broth with bean sprouts, to a curry with vegetables, to a darker spicy base with vegetables and meat or fish, to a seafood soup full of types of seafood I've never dreamt of. One time my soup compartment had in it a few crab legs, a large shrinp, a muscle and a few other types of seafood I couldn't name. Pretty fancy, I know. Like they would EVER serve CRAB legs in an American middle school!!! Other foods usually include some type of vegetable dish (often kimchi or picked vegetables, but sometimes we get a salad of sorts, or fresh cut-up peppers), a meat dish (more pork than any other meat, with the exception of fish, which come complete with bones and skin). And then, there is some other random food. It could be dumplings, strawberries, a yogurt, a little chewy gooey rice cake, anything. Sometimes it's really quite boring, or just extra kimchi veggies. Nevertheless, I enjoy the majority of lunches here and usually clear the majority of my plate (although I tend to stay away from the mysterious seafood in my soups or the really fatty pieces of meat).

There are no drinks served with meals. Koreans, in general, don't have a drink with their meals in the same way I would back home--unless it's alcohol (namely, soju or beer). Water is served in restaurants, but it's not consumed in the same way as back home.

So, I sit and eat my lunch. I usually sit with my coteacher and her friend, a younger teacher who teaches Korean and speaks English relatively well. But I more often than not just focus on my food and don't do much talking. You know me. The teachers all sit at one end of the second to last table. I'm not sure why this is the special table, but it is. The noise level in the cafeteria is extreme, as hundreds of boys are chowing down on their food, a few more hundred are lined up along the perimeter inside the cafeteria, and a few hundred more are waiting in line outside. Just imagine the chaos. It's a constant flow of movement and excitement--and noise. Teachers shovel their food into their mouths so they can get out as quickly as they came in, I think.

When I finish eating, I fight my way through tables and teenage boys to the corner of the cafeteria and dump my spoon in one large tub, my chopsticks in another, and all my uneaten food in a large metal bin. Then, if I so choose, I can take a small metal cup and get myself a drink of water. The last stop is the napkin stop. If I feel as though I have red kimchi chili paste or broth from slurping the bean sprouts out of my soup all over my face I can grab a tissue and wipe my face. Sometimes I have to wipe my nose, as food is ALWAYS spicy here.

And that's my lunch everyday I'm at school. Same thing, day in and day out. Quite a sight to see, but it keeps me amused and satiated so I can't complain...

한 국 사 랑 해 요!

I can't even begin to explain just how much I am loving my life here in Korea. The teaching part brings some unwanted stress to my life, but only because I allow it and haven't yet figured out how to take the perfectionist out of the girl and harness my terrible procrastination habits.

I've neglected many an opportunity to take a moment to write about my experiences here--large and small--but I assure you, Korea thus far has been good to me. So many moments have passed where I can't help but think to myself (and often times say out loud) "I love my life." It's the small things in life that make it so wonderful though, isn't it? My life in Korea is full of those small things...

Spring has finally arrived after a long, cold winter, which means I am starting to see color, feel warmth, and most significantly of all, see the cherry blossoms in full bloom. As we Oregonians know quite well, few moments are better in life than when the winter (or in our case, rainy) season changes to blue skies and sun, eliciting a heightened sense of happiness and energy.

Ahhh, spring.

My friends and I took advantage of the changing seasons and went for a nice long bike ride along the river a few nights ago (just like back home!). Four foreigners on bikes is quite a site to see in Jinju, so we got plenty of friendly stares and hellos from a number of people, young and old. Near the end of the ride, we happened to pass by a huge fountain along the river just at the right time to catch a colorful display of the evening water show (which was new to all of us) with everything from k-pop to traditional Korean music timed perfectly with the movement of the water. It felt like we could have been in Vegas and we seriuosly stood at the base of the fountain with our necks bent, gawking up at the water show for longer than I'd prefer to admit. It was pretty amazing. Sometimes Koreans really know how to do it... And then naturally, we ended our evening with a bowl of my favorite soup, mandu guk (dumpling soup).

Life is good.

Yesterday one of my favorite students (whom I had in my winter English camp and in my extra conversation classes that I do right now) brought my a chocolate chip cookie. Earlier in the day he gave me a stick of gum.

Today I received an impromptu Buddhist breathing meditation lesson from a fellow English teacher, followed be a long discussion about such things as past lives, hypnosis and the like. He promised to give me a tai chi lesson tomorrow...

Did I mention all 1091 of the boys (well, almost all of them) are on a three-day field trip? Each grade is going somewhere different, but I still couldn't imagine accompanying 340-380 middle school boys for three days and two nights. Me and about ten other teachers are left here at the school, passing the time by eating breakfast and lunch together and doing a lot of sitting around talking. Well, naturally I'm doing more listening than talking... I even watched a movie with the 'leftover' kids today.

한 국 사 랑 해 요!!!
(I love Korea!)