Let me put this on the table before I say anything further: I am not a huge fan of Korean pizza. The don't put nearly enough tomato sauce on it, and the dough is soft and sweet, hardly deserving of the denotation "crust." In addition, Koreans love to put strange things on their pizzas, like corn and sweet potato. Today, the level of stangeness increased, as I bought a slice of pizza and discovered that in addition to cheese and sausage (and, unfortunately, CORN), the pizza was topped with a veritable bushel of sliced almonds.
Another less than pleasant discovery today: I thought it was normal and acceptable to dress up your look a little bit by throwing on a blue blazer. When I tried that little trick for an open class today (this is when parents come to watch your class, a stressful affair to say the least), the Korean teacher told me that I looked like a high schooler. Then I remembered that (literally) every high school across the country has an almost identical blue blazer as part of its uniform. So now I know what garment to don when going for that "youthful" look.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Students Turn the Problem of World Hunger into a Catchy Jingle
In one of my intermediate classes, the topic of the three-hour long session was world hunger. Near the end of the lesson, I broke the students up into groups and asked them to compose a song treating the topic of world hunger. Here are a few of the results, unedited and unabridged. Incidentally, I have no idea how they learned to use "yo" in song lyrics. I certainly didn't teach them that.
JINGLE HUNGERS (to the tune of "Jingle Bells," by a group of three boys)
They are dying.
They are dying.
It is not their fault.
They are dead.
They are dead.
What's you gonna do.
DONATION (a rap song, by a group of two boys calling themselves "Dark Sides of Street")
Yo. There is peoples in this world buyin food at market. But do remember there is peoples thrown out at streets baggin for some cashes and changes. What do we do? Nothin! We don't freakin care about this hommies and hobos. Instead we seat in the house at couch watchin TV.
Hunger...!
It is beatin the crap of them.
We gotta help this hommies.
Donate your money, food, and time.
There are people dyin in hunger. You know that there are foods, but it goes to the waste baskets. It's such a waste you know. They ain't got food, job, moneys, we need to help them! They are dyin out there.
C'mon.
YELLOW HOT CHARLIE CHOCOLATE (a song by a group of girls calling themselves "Burning Green Rabbit")
People are dying yo
We are living yo
So we have to help them
They are so poor
Hunger is bad I think so
Go on and donate your time
Volunteer your time
People are in hunger
Give money and food and
Time to them
Go on and donate your time
Volunteer your time
JINGLE HUNGERS (to the tune of "Jingle Bells," by a group of three boys)
They are dying.
They are dying.
It is not their fault.
They are dead.
They are dead.
What's you gonna do.
DONATION (a rap song, by a group of two boys calling themselves "Dark Sides of Street")
Yo. There is peoples in this world buyin food at market. But do remember there is peoples thrown out at streets baggin for some cashes and changes. What do we do? Nothin! We don't freakin care about this hommies and hobos. Instead we seat in the house at couch watchin TV.
Hunger...!
It is beatin the crap of them.
We gotta help this hommies.
Donate your money, food, and time.
There are people dyin in hunger. You know that there are foods, but it goes to the waste baskets. It's such a waste you know. They ain't got food, job, moneys, we need to help them! They are dyin out there.
C'mon.
YELLOW HOT CHARLIE CHOCOLATE (a song by a group of girls calling themselves "Burning Green Rabbit")
People are dying yo
We are living yo
So we have to help them
They are so poor
Hunger is bad I think so
Go on and donate your time
Volunteer your time
People are in hunger
Give money and food and
Time to them
Go on and donate your time
Volunteer your time
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
How are you?
So let's imagine you're walking past a work-related acquaintaince in the hallway of your office. What do you say? Probably some variant of "Hey, how are you?" right? Depending on your level of intimacy with this person, he or she could either say "Fine. How about you?" or proceed to tell you all about that awesome fishing trip last weekend, the recent divorce, and/or what he or she had for breakfast.
So recently, I asked my Korean language exchange parnter how to say, "How are you?" in Korean. He looked at me for a second with a furrowed brow. "You know, 'how are you?'" I repeated. "What you say to a casual acquaintaince just to make conversation or add a little more than just 'hello' to your interaction."
He thought for a good long while and concluded that there was no Korean equivalent to "How are you?" a ubiquitous question in Western social interaction. In fact, it's so important that there are multiple variants of how to say it, some of which I will here repeat for the sake of color.
How are you?
How's it going?
What's happening?
What's kicking?
What's shaking?
What's up?
How's it hanging?
Who's your daddy?
(Okay that last one wasn't real.) But you get my point. Shin Woo told me that the closest Korean equivalent would be "What did you do yesterday?" but this, to me, is a very different sort of question. It asks for a particular response and specific information. I have no particular desire to know what my coworkers did yesterday. "How are you?" on the other hand, is a very open question. Depending on your level of intimacy with your conversant, your amount of free time, and your desire to share information, your reply could be quite comprehensive or a single word. And everything in between is okay.
Differences in a language almost always reflect differences in a culture. So what does this phenomenon signify? It could grow out of the more socially stratified nature of traditional Korean society, as contrasted to American society. "How are you?" is an open and flexible question, and Koreans are traditionally anything but open or flexible. Either you're intimate with someone or not. No grey space, and no room for inviting intimacy where it does not already exist. But if anyone else has theories, I would love to hear them.
So recently, I asked my Korean language exchange parnter how to say, "How are you?" in Korean. He looked at me for a second with a furrowed brow. "You know, 'how are you?'" I repeated. "What you say to a casual acquaintaince just to make conversation or add a little more than just 'hello' to your interaction."
He thought for a good long while and concluded that there was no Korean equivalent to "How are you?" a ubiquitous question in Western social interaction. In fact, it's so important that there are multiple variants of how to say it, some of which I will here repeat for the sake of color.
How are you?
How's it going?
What's happening?
What's kicking?
What's shaking?
What's up?
How's it hanging?
Who's your daddy?
(Okay that last one wasn't real.) But you get my point. Shin Woo told me that the closest Korean equivalent would be "What did you do yesterday?" but this, to me, is a very different sort of question. It asks for a particular response and specific information. I have no particular desire to know what my coworkers did yesterday. "How are you?" on the other hand, is a very open question. Depending on your level of intimacy with your conversant, your amount of free time, and your desire to share information, your reply could be quite comprehensive or a single word. And everything in between is okay.
Differences in a language almost always reflect differences in a culture. So what does this phenomenon signify? It could grow out of the more socially stratified nature of traditional Korean society, as contrasted to American society. "How are you?" is an open and flexible question, and Koreans are traditionally anything but open or flexible. Either you're intimate with someone or not. No grey space, and no room for inviting intimacy where it does not already exist. But if anyone else has theories, I would love to hear them.
Friday, November 19, 2010
So you caught me at a critical moment...
So sometimes I get a little discouraged. I think about how I can't tell a good wine from a great wine, or about how little appreciation I have for culinary delights compared to some people I know. Every man wants to have a good "nose" for whiskey, but to me they all sort of taste... well, whiskey-like. Far from being the responsive, sensitive tuning fork of pleasure I would like it to be, my palate sometimes feels like an all-too blunt instrument. So I get a little bit sad.
But for the rest of my life, I will be able to console myself, knowing that an entire country of people lacks even the fundamentals of what, in the West, we would call "good taste." I will now treat three aspects of the Korean culinary experience that have left me wanting.
Let's start with the bread. I think every bread-product in Korea must be made from rice and sugar instead of wheat. Their bread lacks texture. It lacks character. It lacks flavor. Really, the BEST bread you will find in Korea is comparable to Wonderbread. And yet, today I dared to hope... I went to the supermarket looking for pita bread, knowing full well what a desperate, hopeless quest I was on. As I sauntered over to where the bread-lady was displaying her wares, I had a moment of optimism! That bread-like thing, there! It looks flat, and almost resembles pita! Luckily, the bread-lady was there to offer me a sample, otherwise my hopes would have been mercilessly extended until I got home and tasted it for myself. It was sweet. Sugary sweet. Brutally sweet. Probably made from rice. And soft as a marshmallow.
The word "crusty," as in "crusty bread," is not in the Korea culinary vocabulary. In fact, "baking" at all here is an unknown art. It is extremely rare for a domicile to be furnished with an oven, and so a whole slew of Western-favored foodstuffs are unavailable here. Cookies and cakes? Rare. And of such a low quality when you happen across them that you are best to stick with things the Koreans do better.
Let's move on to the wine, which I may have mentioned in an earlier post on alcohol in Korea, but it deserves to be recapitulated here. Wine in Korea tastes like grape juice. It tastes like if you took 2 parts Welch's Grape Juice (wait, not Welch's... too high quality. Substitute CVS-Brand instead of Welch's) and added one part cheap White Zinfandel. That is what passes for wine in Korea, and it's available for two dollars a bottle (made by Lotte, of course). Thankfully, there are easily available imports from Italy, Chile, Spain, Argentina, France, etc. In fact, you can buy imported wine at any of the million corner stores.
Lastly, let's talk coffee. Now, it's no secret that Americans love coffee. For many of us, the first thing we do in the morning is start a pot of coffee, letting that wonderful aroma permeate the home as we gird ourselves for another workday. Some people prefer to stop at Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, or their favorite coffee shop on the way to work. Some people (as is the custom in my family) brew a pot of coffee (decaf!) immediately after dinner. What do all these coffees have in common? The key word is BREW. I just returned from the supermarket, so the horrifying image is still burned into my mind: an ENTIRE WALL of... INSTANT COFFEE! It's available in many flavors. At many different strengths. With sugar. With no sugar. Creamer. No creamer. Decaf. Super Caf. But it's all INSTANT! I think on the entire wall of shelves there were three or four REAL coffee products. Korean instant coffee is almost always packaged in these single-serving sleeves, the horror of which is enhanced instead of mitigated by their cuteness.
All of this having been said, Koreans do seem to enjoy brewed coffee... judging by the supermarket aisle, they just never make it themselves. There are an abundance of Starbucks and other more Korean coffee shops where, for the prohibitively expensive price of $4-$6, you too can enjoy a cup of kah-pee! (Konglish for "coffee")
So how do I conclude this scathing missive? Perhaps with some palliative words. Korean food is not all bad. In fact, some of it is really really good. I love bibimbap (a mix of fresh vegetables with egg and fried rice) and dak-galbi (a kind of stir-fried chicken?) as well as many other things here. But stuff just ain't like it is back home!
But for the rest of my life, I will be able to console myself, knowing that an entire country of people lacks even the fundamentals of what, in the West, we would call "good taste." I will now treat three aspects of the Korean culinary experience that have left me wanting.
Let's start with the bread. I think every bread-product in Korea must be made from rice and sugar instead of wheat. Their bread lacks texture. It lacks character. It lacks flavor. Really, the BEST bread you will find in Korea is comparable to Wonderbread. And yet, today I dared to hope... I went to the supermarket looking for pita bread, knowing full well what a desperate, hopeless quest I was on. As I sauntered over to where the bread-lady was displaying her wares, I had a moment of optimism! That bread-like thing, there! It looks flat, and almost resembles pita! Luckily, the bread-lady was there to offer me a sample, otherwise my hopes would have been mercilessly extended until I got home and tasted it for myself. It was sweet. Sugary sweet. Brutally sweet. Probably made from rice. And soft as a marshmallow.
The word "crusty," as in "crusty bread," is not in the Korea culinary vocabulary. In fact, "baking" at all here is an unknown art. It is extremely rare for a domicile to be furnished with an oven, and so a whole slew of Western-favored foodstuffs are unavailable here. Cookies and cakes? Rare. And of such a low quality when you happen across them that you are best to stick with things the Koreans do better.
Let's move on to the wine, which I may have mentioned in an earlier post on alcohol in Korea, but it deserves to be recapitulated here. Wine in Korea tastes like grape juice. It tastes like if you took 2 parts Welch's Grape Juice (wait, not Welch's... too high quality. Substitute CVS-Brand instead of Welch's) and added one part cheap White Zinfandel. That is what passes for wine in Korea, and it's available for two dollars a bottle (made by Lotte, of course). Thankfully, there are easily available imports from Italy, Chile, Spain, Argentina, France, etc. In fact, you can buy imported wine at any of the million corner stores.
Lastly, let's talk coffee. Now, it's no secret that Americans love coffee. For many of us, the first thing we do in the morning is start a pot of coffee, letting that wonderful aroma permeate the home as we gird ourselves for another workday. Some people prefer to stop at Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, or their favorite coffee shop on the way to work. Some people (as is the custom in my family) brew a pot of coffee (decaf!) immediately after dinner. What do all these coffees have in common? The key word is BREW. I just returned from the supermarket, so the horrifying image is still burned into my mind: an ENTIRE WALL of... INSTANT COFFEE! It's available in many flavors. At many different strengths. With sugar. With no sugar. Creamer. No creamer. Decaf. Super Caf. But it's all INSTANT! I think on the entire wall of shelves there were three or four REAL coffee products. Korean instant coffee is almost always packaged in these single-serving sleeves, the horror of which is enhanced instead of mitigated by their cuteness.
All of this having been said, Koreans do seem to enjoy brewed coffee... judging by the supermarket aisle, they just never make it themselves. There are an abundance of Starbucks and other more Korean coffee shops where, for the prohibitively expensive price of $4-$6, you too can enjoy a cup of kah-pee! (Konglish for "coffee")
So how do I conclude this scathing missive? Perhaps with some palliative words. Korean food is not all bad. In fact, some of it is really really good. I love bibimbap (a mix of fresh vegetables with egg and fried rice) and dak-galbi (a kind of stir-fried chicken?) as well as many other things here. But stuff just ain't like it is back home!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Mountain God
I made another pilgrimage into the mountains North-ish of Busan yesterday for a stellar hike with my colleagues and friends. We had a great time. I have no idea how far we hiked (it was at least a few miles), but as you can see from the pictures, the trail stretches along the ridge of mountains. I guess these ridges were used to defend against the Japanese, back in the day. (As any Korean will tell you, the Japanese have been a persistent problem throughout Korea's history, mostly because Korea is a peninsula that provides very convenient passage to the mainland. If, you know, it weren't for all the Koreans in the way.)
There were many, many Koreans hiking the trail along with us. I've noticed that Koreans take their sportswear VERY seriously. People buy these special hiking jackets, pants, shoes, and backpacks. And those ski-pole-type-things that I guess help you hike on difficult terrain. But I honestly find that whole practice pretty silly. When I showed up in some durable denim pants and a short-sleeve shirt, my Korean colleague commented that "I didn't look like I was ready for hiking." Jeez, sorry I didn't drop a few hundred thousand won on the "appropriate" gear!
In other news, the end of the session is approaching, which means that in two short weeks I'll be getting an entirely new group of children. And believe me, there are some kids that I will be all-too-happy to have out of my classroom. However, I might have to teach some classes that I've never done before, which is always a little uncomfortable at first. And it also means that I have to submit reports on every student I have right now (probably a little less than one hundred). Which I'm officially late on! Back to work on those...
Sunday, October 24, 2010
A Sunday Korean: "Breaking the Lules"
So I decided what I am yesterday. I am a Sunday Korean. You all know the phrase "Sunday Christian," right? Someone who goes to church and takes religion seriously one day of the week, but sins like CRAZY for the other six days (especially Saturday night, I bet)? Well that has become, unfortunately, my attitude about learning Korean.
I have a new language exchange partner who takes our work together VERY seriously, which is great. He simultaneously wants to PERFECT his English while helping me to accomplish my goals with Korean (which, by the way, are quite modest). So we spend two hours every Sunday engaged in fairly intensive language study, the likes of which I haven't known since Mr. Chandler's B-period AP French 4 class.
The problem is that for the other six days of the week, part of my job is to actively police my classroom, reprimanding any student who speaks Korean, or "Konglish," or really even speaks with a heavy Korean accent. For example:
Student: Teach-uh? Can I please-uh go to bathroom?
Teacher Chris: *with mock incomprehension* Teach-UH? What is teach-UH?
Student: TeachER, please-uh!
Teacher Chris: Please-UH?? What is please-UHH??
So I spend 6 hours every day, and three hours on Saturdays, enforcing a strict-English only policy. It makes me feel like an evil colonial governor, but that's what I get for reading all those books in post-colonial literature for Lit Crit class.
Meanwhile, I would really like to cultivate my skill at speaking the language my children would like to desperately to use during class time. I'm sure I could learn quite a bit if I didn't have to be such a Nazi about enforcing English only. Every now and then I've let a word or two in Korean slip out, and this actually completely disrupts the classroom atmosphere. Students immediately stand up and point to me, with glee on their faces. "TEACH-UH YOU SPEAKED KOREAN! TEACH-UH YOU BROKE THE LULES!" It's a sight to see.
Mentioning Christianity brings something else to mind. The churches here in Korea all have their steeples decorated with bright red/pink neon crosses. That's right; you can identify a place of holy refuge from quite far away, even in the darkest of sinful nights, by the neon pink cross, shining like a very flamboyant beacon from heaven above.
I have a new language exchange partner who takes our work together VERY seriously, which is great. He simultaneously wants to PERFECT his English while helping me to accomplish my goals with Korean (which, by the way, are quite modest). So we spend two hours every Sunday engaged in fairly intensive language study, the likes of which I haven't known since Mr. Chandler's B-period AP French 4 class.
The problem is that for the other six days of the week, part of my job is to actively police my classroom, reprimanding any student who speaks Korean, or "Konglish," or really even speaks with a heavy Korean accent. For example:
Student: Teach-uh? Can I please-uh go to bathroom?
Teacher Chris: *with mock incomprehension* Teach-UH? What is teach-UH?
Student: TeachER, please-uh!
Teacher Chris: Please-UH?? What is please-UHH??
So I spend 6 hours every day, and three hours on Saturdays, enforcing a strict-English only policy. It makes me feel like an evil colonial governor, but that's what I get for reading all those books in post-colonial literature for Lit Crit class.
Meanwhile, I would really like to cultivate my skill at speaking the language my children would like to desperately to use during class time. I'm sure I could learn quite a bit if I didn't have to be such a Nazi about enforcing English only. Every now and then I've let a word or two in Korean slip out, and this actually completely disrupts the classroom atmosphere. Students immediately stand up and point to me, with glee on their faces. "TEACH-UH YOU SPEAKED KOREAN! TEACH-UH YOU BROKE THE LULES!" It's a sight to see.
Mentioning Christianity brings something else to mind. The churches here in Korea all have their steeples decorated with bright red/pink neon crosses. That's right; you can identify a place of holy refuge from quite far away, even in the darkest of sinful nights, by the neon pink cross, shining like a very flamboyant beacon from heaven above.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Please Don't Hit Us
And speaking of domestic abuse! Today in one of my elementary school classes, my students had to get into groups and brainstorm things that they liked and did not like about their parents. Then they had to think of what kind of parents they wanted to be, and finally, they had to write a song about parenting.
A group of five elementary school girls produced this gem. It's called, "Please Don't Hit Us."
PLEASE DON'T HIT US
Listen to my opinion
Listen to my opinion
We hope that you don't hit us.
(Because we can get hurt
Because we can get hurt)
And we can get many stress
We always try hard for
Be a good daughter to you.
Heartbreaking, isn't it? In a funny, ESL-kind-of-way. The boys, on the other hand, did not focus on the same emotionally intense issues as the girls. Instead, they wrote about a much more straightforward concept, one that is near and dear to the hearts of children from developed countries all over the world. And in the true spirit of rock and roll, it's called, "Give Me."
GIVE ME
Give me money
Give me money
Give me money
And we want.
Give me free
Give me free
Give me free
Now we have.
Everything
Everything
Everything
And we have
All the thing.
UPDATE:
So I gave the same exercise to a different class today and got surprisingly similar results. A group of boys wrote from the standpoint of a consumer in an acquisitional materialist culture, while the girls' song reflected their desire to escape from the critical judgements of their elders. Amazingly, the boys even chose the exact same title for their song.
WHEN I GROW UP
When I grow up,
I want to be a nice parent.
I don't say so many scolding,
Because...
The scolding makes them
A sense of inferiority,
The scolding makes
Children have a bad mind.
GIVE ME
Give them
Give them
Give them
A free time.
Give them
Give them
Give them
Many money.
Don't give them
Don't give them
Don't give them
A study time.
Don't give them
Don't give them
Don't give them
Many books.
A group of five elementary school girls produced this gem. It's called, "Please Don't Hit Us."
PLEASE DON'T HIT US
Listen to my opinion
Listen to my opinion
We hope that you don't hit us.
(Because we can get hurt
Because we can get hurt)
And we can get many stress
We always try hard for
Be a good daughter to you.
Heartbreaking, isn't it? In a funny, ESL-kind-of-way. The boys, on the other hand, did not focus on the same emotionally intense issues as the girls. Instead, they wrote about a much more straightforward concept, one that is near and dear to the hearts of children from developed countries all over the world. And in the true spirit of rock and roll, it's called, "Give Me."
GIVE ME
Give me money
Give me money
Give me money
And we want.
Give me free
Give me free
Give me free
Now we have.
Everything
Everything
Everything
And we have
All the thing.
UPDATE:
So I gave the same exercise to a different class today and got surprisingly similar results. A group of boys wrote from the standpoint of a consumer in an acquisitional materialist culture, while the girls' song reflected their desire to escape from the critical judgements of their elders. Amazingly, the boys even chose the exact same title for their song.
WHEN I GROW UP
When I grow up,
I want to be a nice parent.
I don't say so many scolding,
Because...
The scolding makes them
A sense of inferiority,
The scolding makes
Children have a bad mind.
GIVE ME
Give them
Give them
Give them
A free time.
Give them
Give them
Give them
Many money.
Don't give them
Don't give them
Don't give them
A study time.
Don't give them
Don't give them
Don't give them
Many books.
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