This is a question I hear an average of once a day from my international friends, and these are some of my thoughts on the topic.
First of all, they aren't. Not ALL Korean girls are "small" and certainly not all of them would be considered "tiny". And second, this post is not scientific and I can't say anything about how genetics relate to the topic, it merely includes my observations, opinions, and conclusions.
#1 Public transportation
Walking from your house to your car and from your car into work, you burn approximately 20 calories if you walk at 3mph. That's about 1/5 of an egg or 1/12 of a bowl of cereal. But say you live 3 blocks from the nearest bus station, and your work place or school is also 3 blocks from the nearest subway stop. That's about 10 minutes of walking, or 40 calories, which is about one quarter of the calories you consumed with your rice, kimchi, radish, and vegetable breakfast. That also doesn't include the 3-4 blocks you may have walked between bus stops and subway stops, and all the steps and stairs you took transferring between subway lines.
Aside from that, when you use public transportation you are constantly surrounded by other people, and carrying extra weight can be extremely inconvenient, not only for yourself, but also for those around you. For instance, all buses, trains, and subways have designated seats and standing areas and if you take up more than one, you are an object of obvious, if unspoken, negative attention. Which brings me to my second point.
#2 Peer pressure
This can include everything from seats on the subway, to clothing in the stores. I am a fairly average-size American: I typically look at tops in the small-medium sizes, and bottoms in the 6-10 range. I have visited several different clothing stores since I arrived here and the largest size I have seen was an American 12 /Large. Typically, 8's and Medium's are the biggest you can hope to find. Maybe nobody says anything, but maybe they do - pointing out physical differences and flaws is widely accepted here. Either way, when all the seats and most of the clothes and the majority of your friends present the picture that small is normal, it is a standard you will emulate, consciously or subconsciously.
#3 Portion sizes
This is one that many people think points in the opposite direction; when you go to a restaurant and order your own meal (as opposed to ordering a big meal collectively and sharing one pot as is often done) you will receive a large serving - probably at least as big as most entries in a normal American restaurant. So why, then, are they so skinny?
Several reasons: One, the individual ingredients used here are much healthier across the board. No bacon grease. Ever. The food people eat here and it's greater nutritional value could be a post in itself. But I will assume that you, my reader, are already familiar with the faults of a "typical American diet" and will also assume that you know how much healthier rice and vegetables are than bread, pizza, and canned food. Two, their sides are cabbage and radish (approximately 30 calories each and shared between friends) as opposed to mashed potatoes and rolls (approximately 130 for one cup and 150 for one 3" roll). Three, they eat this size portion at most once a day. Four, water is free and given upon entering the restaurant - other drinks are usually $3 per cup, and no refills.
#4 Pleasure activities
The first thing that comes to mind is when I think about what Americans do for fun is watching TV. Here? They go shopping. Also, seeing recreational exercise equipment next to the roads in crowded cities is common, as is seeing people using them.
There are so many more observations I could make, and most of them would probably be just as obnoxiously general as the ones I've already made. So I will make just one more.
The reason for the painfully evident size difference between the Western females I've observed and our Eastern counterparts is not easily defined. It seems to come down to small differences in the way we've thought, acted, and eaten since we were babies. (The babies here are the same size as everywhere else I've been, by the way.) Lifestyle differences and choices are the key differences.
Now, just to be clear, I am NOT saying that one way is better than another. I think that many things about the Korean lifestyle are more healthy physically, and this usually leads to smaller people. So for all my friends out there who seem to be constantly asking themselves, "How are they all so skinny?!" remember that it is 20-50 years of lifestyle differences. And if you're jealous, think about making some changes...for the next 20 years.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Everland and After
Unless people just dress like this normally. Which, I guess is a possibility.
Does every amusement park have a 50's section? They even had a ride called the "Twist and Turn" complete with Charleston music pictures of people swing dancing. Yes, the people waiting in line with me got a little show...
Also, the Sky Cruise cars in the top corners and the T-Express in the background. The T-Express was an enormous wooden roller-coaster with four big drops. Safe to say I was thrilled but scared the entire, long, ride.
EEE! Twins dressed up like Cinderella waiting in line to take a picture with Mickey and Minnie dressed up in pumpkin costumes. Not sure if I've seen much of anything cuter than that! Also, a ceramic tree. Those grow over here.
This is in the "ancient Greek" section of the park. Corny? Maybe, nevertheless one of my favorite parts.
While this guy seems to be doing alright..........this guy - or at least his teeth - has probably seen better days!
And here we are...runny around, being silly, taking funny photos, and in general, just being a group of friends having a the time of their lives in a Korean amusement park!
For anyone who didn't know this, I really like flowers. fortunately, so did the designers of Everland! So once again, a shocked observer could have the joy of watching a white girl dance.
I believe that little animal in the right picture in the third row is a hummingbird. About 1" in length, and extremely bold. Also, I really love morning glories, and contrast. And flowers in unexpected places - such as rock walls. And purple. And yes, roses. Especially roses that are somewhat abnormal colors, and somewhat wild, and somewhat imperfect.
*HAPPINESS*
Mmmm! Pizza and yogurt. In the pizza crust, there is mashed sweet potato (I think). And in that plain yogurt, there are some almonds, and peanuts, and raisins, and a little honey. Basically, I experienced a little bit of heaven in that little bowl last night.
Ok, America, this is the way to make a salad bar. I don't know what Ruby Tuesday thinks they have going on, but whatever it is, well, they just need to take a jump across the big pond at get a load of Mr. Pizza!
After Doxam woke up, he showed me how to cook some made-from-scratch Spaghetti and sauce. And we might have broken a ceramic knife in the process. But that might just be a random picture I put in, you never know...
Either way, breakfast was good. The Spaghetti could have been a little saltier and a little less cooked. And the meat could have been seasoned more. And there could have been more mushrooms and onions. And the sauce would've been better if I'd had all the spices separately like I normally do instead of having "Italian seasoning". But I doubt we would've enjoyed it any more regardless of if any of those things had been different. I guess though, that Doxam is out-of-practice cooking! We should change that.
And finally, just in case I had any intentions of having any other kind of coffee:
The only thing that could have made my coffee any nicer, is a cookie. Or two or three. I really want a cookie right now. I hope that my new pet fox decides to make cookies next.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Real Hurt, Real Help
In some ways I feel as if I am not ready to write yet. The pain is still too raw and the hurt is still too real. But on the other hand, there are some things about this time that I don't want to forget.
Like all the Facebook "Likes," comments, and messages. All the hugs, sympathetic smiles, reassuring touches, and kind gestures. When I'm so far away from those I love in a time when we're all feeling the same pain, I've had to accept the sympathy of those who can't understand what I'm going through. Part of me wants to look with scorn into their eyes and tell them, "How can you tell be to be strong - you have no idea what I'm going through!" or "I know I'm not alone here - I'm surrounded by people who hardly know me and have barely started caring for me." But...what if instead I looked into their eyes and saw that they realize those things, but they are stepping out to show that they want help even if they don't know me well. What if I step out of my own perspective and see that when they reach out to hug me, they are trying to help me feel my family's arms reaching around the world to hold me?
It is never easy to comfort someone who is experiencing the loss of a loved one. There never seems to be anything to say. Advice seems pretentious, joking seems insensitive, and soothing words seem insufficient. And in a sense, that is true.
But I appreciate the wise words my friends have shared with me. "Seize the opportunity you have now to enjoy your time in Korea, let it distract you from the pain." "Be strong, Beth." "Don't stay in your room, get out in the sun, we love you!" "Talk with your Mom, you'll feel better!"
And laughing about funny things that my suitemates say is really not disrespectful. Smiling at the sun on my face and the colors in the leaves next to the colorful flowers along the road is a natural way to let joy soak into my sore heart.
Soothing words, well, they are insufficient. No words will ever be enough. But being so far away, words are the only things I have to share with my loved ones. Pictures, memories, stories, feelings, all seem somewhat hollow when shared over chat or Skype, but take it from the one on the other end - these insufficient words are far, far better than no words!
And finally, small gestures, even when you don't realize what you're doing, can mean the world. I have received so many messages from friends, some who I've just met or hardly talked to in the years I've known. I know it couldn't have been easy for them to write to me, but they showed me that I wasn't forgotten, and that my friends were willing to step out of their comfort zones for me. And what about the kind employee at the University bookstore? He sees countless confused students every day, and then I come in and I can't even talk to him. But instead of treating me like another (inconvenient) number, he kindly showed me where to find my book and then wrote down the price for me because he knew I wouldn't really understand it if he just said it. And the countless hours my wonderful man sat in front of his laptop, reading angry, confused, distressed, bitter, crazy, and desperate messages assuring me that he wanted to hear about my emotions even if he had to response and reassuring me that it was ok to cry - he would be strong for me when I couldn't be strong anymore.
In this time of indescribable pain, I have encountered immeasurable love, support, and even beauty. Although I wish I could have been with my Grandpa when he passed, and I wish I could be there now with my family, to comfort and love them, I know that is not the whole picture. I am seeing, experiencing, and learning things here that I will be able to carry with me for the rest of my life. Even through the hurt and tears.
Like all the Facebook "Likes," comments, and messages. All the hugs, sympathetic smiles, reassuring touches, and kind gestures. When I'm so far away from those I love in a time when we're all feeling the same pain, I've had to accept the sympathy of those who can't understand what I'm going through. Part of me wants to look with scorn into their eyes and tell them, "How can you tell be to be strong - you have no idea what I'm going through!" or "I know I'm not alone here - I'm surrounded by people who hardly know me and have barely started caring for me." But...what if instead I looked into their eyes and saw that they realize those things, but they are stepping out to show that they want help even if they don't know me well. What if I step out of my own perspective and see that when they reach out to hug me, they are trying to help me feel my family's arms reaching around the world to hold me?
It is never easy to comfort someone who is experiencing the loss of a loved one. There never seems to be anything to say. Advice seems pretentious, joking seems insensitive, and soothing words seem insufficient. And in a sense, that is true.
But I appreciate the wise words my friends have shared with me. "Seize the opportunity you have now to enjoy your time in Korea, let it distract you from the pain." "Be strong, Beth." "Don't stay in your room, get out in the sun, we love you!" "Talk with your Mom, you'll feel better!"
And laughing about funny things that my suitemates say is really not disrespectful. Smiling at the sun on my face and the colors in the leaves next to the colorful flowers along the road is a natural way to let joy soak into my sore heart.
Soothing words, well, they are insufficient. No words will ever be enough. But being so far away, words are the only things I have to share with my loved ones. Pictures, memories, stories, feelings, all seem somewhat hollow when shared over chat or Skype, but take it from the one on the other end - these insufficient words are far, far better than no words!
And finally, small gestures, even when you don't realize what you're doing, can mean the world. I have received so many messages from friends, some who I've just met or hardly talked to in the years I've known. I know it couldn't have been easy for them to write to me, but they showed me that I wasn't forgotten, and that my friends were willing to step out of their comfort zones for me. And what about the kind employee at the University bookstore? He sees countless confused students every day, and then I come in and I can't even talk to him. But instead of treating me like another (inconvenient) number, he kindly showed me where to find my book and then wrote down the price for me because he knew I wouldn't really understand it if he just said it. And the countless hours my wonderful man sat in front of his laptop, reading angry, confused, distressed, bitter, crazy, and desperate messages assuring me that he wanted to hear about my emotions even if he had to response and reassuring me that it was ok to cry - he would be strong for me when I couldn't be strong anymore.
In this time of indescribable pain, I have encountered immeasurable love, support, and even beauty. Although I wish I could have been with my Grandpa when he passed, and I wish I could be there now with my family, to comfort and love them, I know that is not the whole picture. I am seeing, experiencing, and learning things here that I will be able to carry with me for the rest of my life. Even through the hurt and tears.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
On authenticity
Have ever wondered how authentic your life is? Especially when you feel like you are having some kind of special experience? For instance...you're a college student and you want to have a good and authentic "college experience," so you do everything you hear other people say they do, or you party all the time because that's what you thought college students do, or you study all the time because that's what college is all about, right? Well, maybe...
Before I came to Korea I thoroughly analyzed what I thought would make a good, balanced, and authentic experience here. It included going out to Korean clubs, hiking Korean hills, maybe finding some Korean clothes, going to lots of different places all around Korea, studying just enough and take time to relax, and being very outgoing so I could make many Korean friends.
Through all of my analyzing though, I sort of forgot one thing: coming to Korea wasn't going to change me. Guess what? It doesn't matter which side of the world I'm on - I don't like going to clubs. Hiking, well, that's always a good idea, but even half a world away from home I still only like going hiking alone or with a few select people. And Korean clothes? Well, let's just say my hips didn't turn Korean when I got here, so neither did my style. As for going lot's of different places in Korea, that one's still a winner! Relaxing always seems like a good idea, and it seems like it should be easy...but it's not easy for me. I study hard, then I sleep a little, and then I go on some epic and, for most people, unexpected adventure. Finally, being outgoing seems like a good way to make friends. Unless you're an introvert... Better to stick with the normal strategies of smiling at people and only talking when I have something to say - I've never had trouble finding international friends with that, for me, very natural strategy.
But if I'm just acting the same way I act at home, will my experience be authentic? Well, maybe...
But what is "authenticity"? Everyone in Korea is different, no one has the same life as anyone else, so how could I hope to live like "Koreans"? Yes, eating Korean food, and participating in traditions, visiting homes, and going to historical spots, drinking Soju, and going to the beach in Busan or the amusement parks in Seoul are all things that many Koreans do. Yes, it is good to step out of my comfort zone and do things I don't normally do, whether I'm in Korea or not. Yes, Korea is a WONDERFUL place to try new things, make new friends, and experience a new culture.
So far though, my favorite way to experience authentic Korea is just by living.
I experience Korea when they all stare at me on the Subway and when one goes out of their way to help me, knowing that I speak no Korean and they speak no English.
I experience Korea when I go shopping at giant outdoor markets and at sparkling malls.
I experience Korea when my hostel room is full of mosquitoes.
I experience Korea when I go to famous palaces and then I eat rice at least twice the same day.
I experience Korea when my friend's grandfather says "Good morning, how are you?" to me. (I am the first American he has ever met, and those are the only English words he knows - he practiced saying them just so he could talk to me.)
I experience Korea when I sit in my dorm room for 6 hours and study German, and then fall asleep with my head on my books.
I experience Korea when all the people around me are speaking in Korean and don't notice me.
I experience Korea when I go to church with my friend and introduce myself using the 2 phrases I know in Korean.
I experience Korea when they sing a special song for me telling me they are so happy I came.
I experience Korea when I quietly smile at my suitemate who is friendly and sweet but very shy.
I experience Korea when people take me out for chicken and beer and goofy pictures.
I experience Korea when my new friend calls me Nuna and gives me a tentative little side hug just to make sure it's not awkward.
It's not about how many places I go or how many people I meet, or even how many new experiences I have. It's about living. Me, living my life, aware of and participating in my surroundings, wherever I am. Authentic? Well, maybe... Natural? Absolutely. New? Definitely. Awesome? Extremely!
Before I came to Korea I thoroughly analyzed what I thought would make a good, balanced, and authentic experience here. It included going out to Korean clubs, hiking Korean hills, maybe finding some Korean clothes, going to lots of different places all around Korea, studying just enough and take time to relax, and being very outgoing so I could make many Korean friends.
Through all of my analyzing though, I sort of forgot one thing: coming to Korea wasn't going to change me. Guess what? It doesn't matter which side of the world I'm on - I don't like going to clubs. Hiking, well, that's always a good idea, but even half a world away from home I still only like going hiking alone or with a few select people. And Korean clothes? Well, let's just say my hips didn't turn Korean when I got here, so neither did my style. As for going lot's of different places in Korea, that one's still a winner! Relaxing always seems like a good idea, and it seems like it should be easy...but it's not easy for me. I study hard, then I sleep a little, and then I go on some epic and, for most people, unexpected adventure. Finally, being outgoing seems like a good way to make friends. Unless you're an introvert... Better to stick with the normal strategies of smiling at people and only talking when I have something to say - I've never had trouble finding international friends with that, for me, very natural strategy.
But if I'm just acting the same way I act at home, will my experience be authentic? Well, maybe...
But what is "authenticity"? Everyone in Korea is different, no one has the same life as anyone else, so how could I hope to live like "Koreans"? Yes, eating Korean food, and participating in traditions, visiting homes, and going to historical spots, drinking Soju, and going to the beach in Busan or the amusement parks in Seoul are all things that many Koreans do. Yes, it is good to step out of my comfort zone and do things I don't normally do, whether I'm in Korea or not. Yes, Korea is a WONDERFUL place to try new things, make new friends, and experience a new culture.
So far though, my favorite way to experience authentic Korea is just by living.
I experience Korea when they all stare at me on the Subway and when one goes out of their way to help me, knowing that I speak no Korean and they speak no English.
I experience Korea when I go shopping at giant outdoor markets and at sparkling malls.
I experience Korea when my hostel room is full of mosquitoes.
I experience Korea when I go to famous palaces and then I eat rice at least twice the same day.
I experience Korea when my friend's grandfather says "Good morning, how are you?" to me. (I am the first American he has ever met, and those are the only English words he knows - he practiced saying them just so he could talk to me.)
I experience Korea when I sit in my dorm room for 6 hours and study German, and then fall asleep with my head on my books.
I experience Korea when all the people around me are speaking in Korean and don't notice me.
I experience Korea when I go to church with my friend and introduce myself using the 2 phrases I know in Korean.
I experience Korea when they sing a special song for me telling me they are so happy I came.
I experience Korea when I quietly smile at my suitemate who is friendly and sweet but very shy.
I experience Korea when people take me out for chicken and beer and goofy pictures.
I experience Korea when my new friend calls me Nuna and gives me a tentative little side hug just to make sure it's not awkward.
It's not about how many places I go or how many people I meet, or even how many new experiences I have. It's about living. Me, living my life, aware of and participating in my surroundings, wherever I am. Authentic? Well, maybe... Natural? Absolutely. New? Definitely. Awesome? Extremely!
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Imagine (a cover, of course)
...a place where you hail a taxi by walking out into the road - hopefully no further than the second lane - with all your luggage and hope someone slows down long enough for you to jump in. And you're lucky because 6 other groups of people were doing the same thing.
...a place where you are on a subway and your car has 30 people around age 21. One is looking around, 2 are looking intently at each other, 3 are sleeping, and the rest are silently and intently doing something-or-other on a smart Phone. Guess which one is you...!
...a place where you stand and wait and then run to cross a 15-foot-wide road, all the while dodging bikers. Riding bicycles. Even a couple bicycles-built-for-two.
...a place where you can't walk without bumping into someone. If you want to go in a direction the person next to you didn't go, you have to push someone out of the way.
...a place where you are standing literally shoulder-to-shoulder with 70 other college students and every time your bus driver takes a curve faster than 5mph all of you lean with the curve. You won't fall, but you have to move with everyone else.
...a place where "American food" is a salad with spaghetti noodles in Italian dressing mixed with red pepper paste.
...a place where you can see only people with dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair; you can hear only words that you don't understand; and you can see only signs that hurt your brain to make the effort of reading.
...a place where only the professionals dance, and everyone sings karaoke.
...a place where the biggest size dress in the whole store is a size US 8.
...a place where couples wear matching shoes, or shirts, or underwear, or glasses, or socks, or rings, or shorts, or anything/everything else and it is considered cute. Only cute.
...a place where you are considered beautiful because your hair is blond and your skin is light.
...a place where you can find a Convenience Store on every corner and they sell the exact same thing: 20 kinds of ramen, 20 kinds of milk, 50 other kinds of drinks, 10 kinds of ice cream, and 1 of everything else from bandaids to gum to condoms to Calorie Balance bars.
...a place where even the locals can't comfortably use the bus system.
...a place where you can take a train, a subway, a taxi, a bus, a cable car, a bike, or your feet for hours and still be in the same city.
...a place where everyone lives in apartment buildings with 20+ floors.
...a place where many people have studied English for approximately 10 years but are still too shy to speak even one word.
...a place where you are considered polite and kind if you greet the natives in their native language when you obviously know English.
...a place where you can wear tight shorts or skirts that barely cover your butt, (you have no hips, so don't worry about those) while if you show your shoulders you are considered risque.
...a place where many girls would rather kill their child (after being born, not before) than be a single mother.
...a place where you can order anything you want from a restaurant and they will bring it to you on the back of their motor bike that they probably rode on the sidewalk and down the lane-dividing line between two big buses to get to you. (Their version of fast food.)
...a place where kissing in public is taboo.
...a place where all girls are pressured to be as skinny as possible, while no one besides themselves and their friends really care. The guys certainly seem to value hair color, eye shape, and huggability more than boniness.
...a place where it is normal to see a fashionable girl wearing socks and tennis shoes with a nice dress or 5 inch heels with ripped up jeans and a (baggy) t-shirt.
...a place where every meal includes rice and 5 or 6 side dishes. Maybe a different type of meat depending on the time of day and your income.
...a place where people carry around those famous Asian fans and use them.
...a place where there are no junkers, even the old people have smart phones, everything sparkles, and the plumbing is too old to handle toilet paper - that's what trash cans are for, right?
...a place where foreigners get discounts.
...a place where you can go into a subway station and go down 6 floors before you walk another quarter of a mile to find your train. Don't forget you passed about 5 coffee places and 6 Convenience Stores by now.
...a place where 2 blocks from the hottest club strip in one of the largest cities in the world, you can walk down a quiet street past 5 hostels right next to each other.
...a place where it's not rude to bump into people...it's not polite to make eye contact...it's not rude to stare...it's not polite to say "excuse me" or "bless you" - ever...it's not rude to ignore people who talk to you for their job...it's not polite to talk to your friends' parents...it's not rude to smack your lips while eating...it's not polite to use napkins...it's not rude to tell people what to do...it's not polite to wait for other people to get off the subway/elevator before you...it's not rude to cancel or change plans, invade someone's (as long as they are the same sex) "personal space," tell someone they are strange, point out and help fix physical flaws, and finally...
...a place where the idea of correct etiquette while eating is to get the food into your mouth. Eating noodles has never been so easy.
...a place where you are on a subway and your car has 30 people around age 21. One is looking around, 2 are looking intently at each other, 3 are sleeping, and the rest are silently and intently doing something-or-other on a smart Phone. Guess which one is you...!
...a place where you stand and wait and then run to cross a 15-foot-wide road, all the while dodging bikers. Riding bicycles. Even a couple bicycles-built-for-two.
...a place where you can't walk without bumping into someone. If you want to go in a direction the person next to you didn't go, you have to push someone out of the way.
...a place where you are standing literally shoulder-to-shoulder with 70 other college students and every time your bus driver takes a curve faster than 5mph all of you lean with the curve. You won't fall, but you have to move with everyone else.
...a place where "American food" is a salad with spaghetti noodles in Italian dressing mixed with red pepper paste.
...a place where you can see only people with dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair; you can hear only words that you don't understand; and you can see only signs that hurt your brain to make the effort of reading.
...a place where only the professionals dance, and everyone sings karaoke.
...a place where the biggest size dress in the whole store is a size US 8.
...a place where couples wear matching shoes, or shirts, or underwear, or glasses, or socks, or rings, or shorts, or anything/everything else and it is considered cute. Only cute.
...a place where you are considered beautiful because your hair is blond and your skin is light.
...a place where you can find a Convenience Store on every corner and they sell the exact same thing: 20 kinds of ramen, 20 kinds of milk, 50 other kinds of drinks, 10 kinds of ice cream, and 1 of everything else from bandaids to gum to condoms to Calorie Balance bars.
...a place where even the locals can't comfortably use the bus system.
...a place where you can take a train, a subway, a taxi, a bus, a cable car, a bike, or your feet for hours and still be in the same city.
...a place where everyone lives in apartment buildings with 20+ floors.
...a place where many people have studied English for approximately 10 years but are still too shy to speak even one word.
...a place where you are considered polite and kind if you greet the natives in their native language when you obviously know English.
...a place where you can wear tight shorts or skirts that barely cover your butt, (you have no hips, so don't worry about those) while if you show your shoulders you are considered risque.
...a place where many girls would rather kill their child (after being born, not before) than be a single mother.
...a place where you can order anything you want from a restaurant and they will bring it to you on the back of their motor bike that they probably rode on the sidewalk and down the lane-dividing line between two big buses to get to you. (Their version of fast food.)
...a place where kissing in public is taboo.
...a place where all girls are pressured to be as skinny as possible, while no one besides themselves and their friends really care. The guys certainly seem to value hair color, eye shape, and huggability more than boniness.
...a place where it is normal to see a fashionable girl wearing socks and tennis shoes with a nice dress or 5 inch heels with ripped up jeans and a (baggy) t-shirt.
...a place where every meal includes rice and 5 or 6 side dishes. Maybe a different type of meat depending on the time of day and your income.
...a place where people carry around those famous Asian fans and use them.
...a place where there are no junkers, even the old people have smart phones, everything sparkles, and the plumbing is too old to handle toilet paper - that's what trash cans are for, right?
...a place where foreigners get discounts.
...a place where you can go into a subway station and go down 6 floors before you walk another quarter of a mile to find your train. Don't forget you passed about 5 coffee places and 6 Convenience Stores by now.
...a place where 2 blocks from the hottest club strip in one of the largest cities in the world, you can walk down a quiet street past 5 hostels right next to each other.
...a place where it's not rude to bump into people...it's not polite to make eye contact...it's not rude to stare...it's not polite to say "excuse me" or "bless you" - ever...it's not rude to ignore people who talk to you for their job...it's not polite to talk to your friends' parents...it's not rude to smack your lips while eating...it's not polite to use napkins...it's not rude to tell people what to do...it's not polite to wait for other people to get off the subway/elevator before you...it's not rude to cancel or change plans, invade someone's (as long as they are the same sex) "personal space," tell someone they are strange, point out and help fix physical flaws, and finally...
...a place where the idea of correct etiquette while eating is to get the food into your mouth. Eating noodles has never been so easy.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Warning: Hold onto your Jaw.
"When I was 8 years old I had a dog who I really loved. We shared everything - when I ate a bite, I gave her a bite. I even slept all cuddled up with her every night. One day I came home from school and I didn't see her, I wondered, 'Where is my dog?' but I didn't ask anyone. Later I ate dinner, it was good, but I missed sharing it with her. Finally when it was bedtime and I still hadn't seen her, I asked to my grandmother, 'Where is my dog?' And she said, 'We ate her for dinner.'
I cried and cried without stopping for two hours until I fell asleep.
But we don't do that anymore! Never never do it now!!
Sometimes people eat dogs, but never eat pets! Some people used to think that eating a dog on a very hot day would give you extra energy, but now we know that it is the same as maybe chicken or beef. But it used to be very common especially for men to eat dogs.
I know, it is a very shocking story, but we did it. But that was a long time ago and it never happens now!"
Still.....processing that one.
You know those times when you open your mouth because something is so shocking, but then you close it and swallow because there really are no words to say or to describe your reaction? When our Korean speaking teacher told us this story, all I could think was, "Calm down, you're in Korea. It's ok that it's different. Just....take it for what it is, not for how you perceive it."
I cried and cried without stopping for two hours until I fell asleep.
But we don't do that anymore! Never never do it now!!
Sometimes people eat dogs, but never eat pets! Some people used to think that eating a dog on a very hot day would give you extra energy, but now we know that it is the same as maybe chicken or beef. But it used to be very common especially for men to eat dogs.
I know, it is a very shocking story, but we did it. But that was a long time ago and it never happens now!"
Still.....processing that one.
You know those times when you open your mouth because something is so shocking, but then you close it and swallow because there really are no words to say or to describe your reaction? When our Korean speaking teacher told us this story, all I could think was, "Calm down, you're in Korea. It's ok that it's different. Just....take it for what it is, not for how you perceive it."
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
A very uninspired blog post
Writing a blog post can be extremely difficult. I want to be creative and fun, entertaining and informative. But what if all the thoughts in my head are lose odds and ends - half-baked ideas that I thought one minute and forget to remember the next? So many different and difficult things happen here. Different because I am in a different country, different because I am living in a dorm for the first time in my life, different because I have to make a completely new set of friends, different because the entire structure of my life has changed.
For one who's crafted a life for herself that thrives on structure and organization, this change is not an easy one. The cultural differences, honestly, bother me very little. People stare - not just at me, but also at each other - and that's ok; I stare back. People have this concept of personal space - it means that we should be personal with the space around us. So yes, please, go ahead and put your hand on my leg. I can get used to those, really, it's ok. In fact, I don't really mind too much that I can't ever understand what is going on around me. Talk in Korean, I'll practice listening to your pronunciation. Order food for me, I wouldn't know what to get anyway.
*shrug*
I tend to go with the flow and be pretty chill when it comes to "cultural differences."
So where is the difficult part? I have so much free time! I have 6 classes each week, 2 on Monday, and 1 every other day. Then I have to study German, and study Spanish, and study Korean, and work on projects for other class. Practice Taekwondo, work out, go running. Oh yeah - eating is usually a good idea. Maybe I'll sleep sometime, but when to wake up? All my classes start mid-late morning... WHERE IS MY ROUTINE!?!
And then...there's my room mate. I like her, she is very quiet and introverted and sweet. But, we share a room. When I want to be alone, I have to go somewhere, and even there, who knows when someone else will find my quiet place? What about sitting alone, in my space? It doesn't happen. I have no place of my own. (Reminds me a little of when I was growing up with 11 other people in the same house and the shower was the best place for alone time.) It is also very difficult to go out alone as I speak very, very little of the language.
And the last idea that is constantly floating around, unfinished, in my head, is the pain of distance. Behind every new friend I meet, and behind every old friend I talk to on Facebook or Skype, is the lurking thought, "It's not going to last." The partial truth of this nagging thought is its strength. Because the fact is, many of the people who I am close to now, and many of the new friends I get close to in the coming months, I won't keep up with for a long period of time. But... why should that be so frightening? Friends sometimes come into your life, and it's beautiful, and it doesn't last. Is it any less beautiful for its transience? I think not. No, the people I meet here will never know me as well as the friends I've had since high school, but that is ok. They are the people in my life at this point. Also, who is to say what will stick and what won't? One of my very best friends my freshman year was a Korean girl who only stayed for one semester. Safe to say I am very glad that she was willing to be friends with me even tho we only had a short time together, also, guess what? Our friendship isn't over!
So there you have it: random thoughts about the struggles I am having here. The good news? It's just barely started! Plenty of time to make a routine and some friends. Or...maybe just the friends part.
For one who's crafted a life for herself that thrives on structure and organization, this change is not an easy one. The cultural differences, honestly, bother me very little. People stare - not just at me, but also at each other - and that's ok; I stare back. People have this concept of personal space - it means that we should be personal with the space around us. So yes, please, go ahead and put your hand on my leg. I can get used to those, really, it's ok. In fact, I don't really mind too much that I can't ever understand what is going on around me. Talk in Korean, I'll practice listening to your pronunciation. Order food for me, I wouldn't know what to get anyway.
*shrug*
I tend to go with the flow and be pretty chill when it comes to "cultural differences."
So where is the difficult part? I have so much free time! I have 6 classes each week, 2 on Monday, and 1 every other day. Then I have to study German, and study Spanish, and study Korean, and work on projects for other class. Practice Taekwondo, work out, go running. Oh yeah - eating is usually a good idea. Maybe I'll sleep sometime, but when to wake up? All my classes start mid-late morning... WHERE IS MY ROUTINE!?!
And then...there's my room mate. I like her, she is very quiet and introverted and sweet. But, we share a room. When I want to be alone, I have to go somewhere, and even there, who knows when someone else will find my quiet place? What about sitting alone, in my space? It doesn't happen. I have no place of my own. (Reminds me a little of when I was growing up with 11 other people in the same house and the shower was the best place for alone time.) It is also very difficult to go out alone as I speak very, very little of the language.
And the last idea that is constantly floating around, unfinished, in my head, is the pain of distance. Behind every new friend I meet, and behind every old friend I talk to on Facebook or Skype, is the lurking thought, "It's not going to last." The partial truth of this nagging thought is its strength. Because the fact is, many of the people who I am close to now, and many of the new friends I get close to in the coming months, I won't keep up with for a long period of time. But... why should that be so frightening? Friends sometimes come into your life, and it's beautiful, and it doesn't last. Is it any less beautiful for its transience? I think not. No, the people I meet here will never know me as well as the friends I've had since high school, but that is ok. They are the people in my life at this point. Also, who is to say what will stick and what won't? One of my very best friends my freshman year was a Korean girl who only stayed for one semester. Safe to say I am very glad that she was willing to be friends with me even tho we only had a short time together, also, guess what? Our friendship isn't over!
So there you have it: random thoughts about the struggles I am having here. The good news? It's just barely started! Plenty of time to make a routine and some friends. Or...maybe just the friends part.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Solo in Seoul
Well it didn't work they way I thought it was going to.
But really what can you expect? Me, by myself, no phone.
The plan was for me to get up at 0600, walk to the train station to leave by 0730. My train was supposed to arrive at 0900 in Seoul: Yeongdeungpo Station. I was going to meet my Oni Jinju there and spend the day with her.
Well.....
My train didn't arrive until 0923. And she was already gone. But I didn't know that, so I waited, and waited. And waited some more. Then I stopped waiting and started exploring.
I actually happened to be in the same place I'd been with Jinah 2 weeks before, so I felt comfortable. I found some bulk food and school supplies I'd been needing, then went and got lunch. I journaled a bit in my new notebook while waiting for my food. Then found my way back to the station and made it safely back to Sinchang.
It's pretty lame that I went that whole way and didn't get to see my friends, but I can tell you now that it was anything but a waste.
I am so proud of myself: I switched trains and stations without getting lost. I managed to remember (most of the time) to NOT cross my legs. I found everything I needed in E-mart without being able to read any signs. And I enjoyed a day that went very differently than planned.
All of these things are slightly surprising...
Also, I saw and experienced several small but heartening things.
I saw these flowers growing by the said of the road on the property of what looks to be some kind of place that sells plants. They also had chickens and a rooster who was crowing...welcome sounds early in the morning.
Then there were the kind people I met. While most like to look thru me, thereby feeling that they don't have to step out of their comfort zone to talk to me, a few brave ones decided to help me out.
The sales lady in the cosmetics department who helped me find the cheapest toothpaste that apparently fulfills all 3 duties a toothpaste should. (Cleaning, whitening, and good breath??) She spoke no English, but didn't let that stop her from helping me. Also, the toothpaste sparkles. I cannot explain how ecstatic this makes me...!
The cashier at the Noodle Box who listened while I tried to order in Korean, and then used his broken English to confirm my order. It really makes me feel special when people try to talk to me, because I know how awkward it makes most of them feel.
And then there was the little girl, 2 years old maybe? Sitting bored in her cart at E-mart. When I walked by she looked me full in the face and said quietly, "An yeong ha seyo." I think I almost cried. So precious!
And finally, I found these little kid notebooks from Guardian with Air-Craft Carriers on the front. So I bought them, because they remind me of my man in the Navy. They also have quotes about Courage in them. And I've been realizing...courage only exists where there was once fear. So no matter that I was alone in Seoul - it just turned a little more of my fear into confidence and courage.
But really what can you expect? Me, by myself, no phone.
The plan was for me to get up at 0600, walk to the train station to leave by 0730. My train was supposed to arrive at 0900 in Seoul: Yeongdeungpo Station. I was going to meet my Oni Jinju there and spend the day with her.
Well.....
My train didn't arrive until 0923. And she was already gone. But I didn't know that, so I waited, and waited. And waited some more. Then I stopped waiting and started exploring.
I actually happened to be in the same place I'd been with Jinah 2 weeks before, so I felt comfortable. I found some bulk food and school supplies I'd been needing, then went and got lunch. I journaled a bit in my new notebook while waiting for my food. Then found my way back to the station and made it safely back to Sinchang.
It's pretty lame that I went that whole way and didn't get to see my friends, but I can tell you now that it was anything but a waste.
I am so proud of myself: I switched trains and stations without getting lost. I managed to remember (most of the time) to NOT cross my legs. I found everything I needed in E-mart without being able to read any signs. And I enjoyed a day that went very differently than planned.
All of these things are slightly surprising...
Also, I saw and experienced several small but heartening things.
I saw these flowers growing by the said of the road on the property of what looks to be some kind of place that sells plants. They also had chickens and a rooster who was crowing...welcome sounds early in the morning.
Then there were the kind people I met. While most like to look thru me, thereby feeling that they don't have to step out of their comfort zone to talk to me, a few brave ones decided to help me out.
The sales lady in the cosmetics department who helped me find the cheapest toothpaste that apparently fulfills all 3 duties a toothpaste should. (Cleaning, whitening, and good breath??) She spoke no English, but didn't let that stop her from helping me. Also, the toothpaste sparkles. I cannot explain how ecstatic this makes me...!
The cashier at the Noodle Box who listened while I tried to order in Korean, and then used his broken English to confirm my order. It really makes me feel special when people try to talk to me, because I know how awkward it makes most of them feel.
And then there was the little girl, 2 years old maybe? Sitting bored in her cart at E-mart. When I walked by she looked me full in the face and said quietly, "An yeong ha seyo." I think I almost cried. So precious!
And finally, I found these little kid notebooks from Guardian with Air-Craft Carriers on the front. So I bought them, because they remind me of my man in the Navy. They also have quotes about Courage in them. And I've been realizing...courage only exists where there was once fear. So no matter that I was alone in Seoul - it just turned a little more of my fear into confidence and courage.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
I spied with my own eyes...
An incomplete list of what a careful observer might see on the Soonchunhyang Campus:
- English (besides "Soonchunhyang University)
- Trees growing thru a staircase
- Gutters in the ground
- An American washing her feet in a fountain
- Benches that consist of a metal bar
- A blond male
- An American sitting on a gate that leads to an abandoned building
- German
- An open window high in an office tower
- A tree growing at a 45* angle to the ground
- An American walking barefoot up a stair "railing"
- A neon clock at the top of what looks to be the oldest building on campus
- Nobody
- A plant you don't recognize
- A bare-shouldered foreigner
- Spiderwebs that look like they're made out of string (actually, you'd have to be a careful observer to NOT see those...)
- A car slowing down for a pedestrian
- A Korean girl strolling alone
- An American absent-mindedly bouncing a ball
- Gravel
- A hidden tennis ball...
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Sensations
I have attained a heightened awareness of several of my senses since arriving here. Each one is constantly being presented with sensations that it has never encountered before which is undeniably disconcerting, but has revealed to me the depth of elasticity that my senses contain.
For instance.
Everywhere I go I hear unfamiliar sounds. Obviously, the language is the most noticeable: vowels that are somewhere in between our vowels, those used in German, and nothing I've ever heard before; consonants that sound like you took a break for air half way thru one sound and then said the second half with the first half of the next. (R-L, anyone?) But then there are more. Such as the elevator talking when you get to each floor. The sound of an engine not slowing down for you. And someone asking you in Korean, "What the **** are you doing?" Oh wait...how did I know that's what she said? Because now that I can't understand the words and the unfamiliar sounds, the tone, urgency, and pitch of the sounds all mean more than they ever have in the past. I hear less, but I hear more at the same time.
The scents are for the most part either very similar or very different. Cars smell like cars. People smell like people. Sewage smells like sewage. Food smells like food - tho I never quite know what to expect. The biggest surprise to this sense is the location I find those familiar scents.
Sights are similar in some ways. I see people, streets, food, cars, signs, clothes, stores, maps, water fountains, trash cans, decorations, cash registers, speedometers, eating utensils, souvenir shops, and even McDonalds. If I stop thinking for a minute I can convince myself that I'm back in America. But look closer... The people are all dark and small with dark hair. The streets are for the cars - they always have the right-of-way. The food is normally unrecognizable. (Don't fall into the trap of thinking it's not...) The cars are almost exclusively Hundais. The signs are in Korean. The clothes all look familiar, but the style is very unique. The stores are all little shops, normally convenience stores that sell everything. The maps are also in Korean. The water fountains are actually just water-bottle-filling stations. The trash cans are all color-coded. The decorations are not "Asian," they are normal. The cash registers read in the 1000's for a cheap meal. Speedometers are measured in kilometers per hour. (I an't explain the astonishment I felt for a split-second when my friend's Mom was driving at 100...Kph. Right.) Eating utensils, well, you can finish that one. Souvenir shops sell everything from hair bows to flags - Korean flags. And good ol' Mickey D's. Finally something I'll recognize, right? Wrong. I have no idea how to say "McDouble" in Korean, let alone to read it. And for the final blow to thinking that the sights predict deep similarities, McDonalds doesn't sell Parfaits here.
Big boo.
This brings me to the sense that normally feels like it's overloaded, numb, or reeling. Don't get me wrong, I like Korean food - much of it is healthy, tasty, creative, and down-right nommy. But imagine with me...you go to your favorite restaurant, you order something you've never ordered before, and it comes out looking like nothing you've ever seen before. So you take a sip of water to steady yourself, but it tastes oddly metallic. *shrug* It's still water, right? Finally you dig in and brave a bite. It's good. You chew, then swallow. Then go for another bite because you liked it. But wait...why did you like it - you can't for the life of you remember what it tasted or even felt like in your mouth. So you take another bite. It's good again. Then you swallow and once again you have no idea what you just ate.
If you've never experienced this before, it's probably almost impossible to understand. But suffice to say that much of the pleasure of eating is the anticipation. After 3 weeks here I am getting better at predicting and remembering hat my food will taste like. And even texture is becoming less of a surprise - tho still a huge factor. Two days after I arrived here, I was given a drink. It looked healthy so I took it. It tasted good too. I drank some and liked it so much that I wanted that taste more and more. But I couldn't bring myself to drink it. Why? Because there were jiggly chunks of something suspended in the somewhat thickened liquid. No matter how many times I told myself that I liked the taste and wanted more, I drank hardly any of it, and it was so strange to my mouth and stomach that it almost made me sick.
Food is, however, the only new texture.
I've realized that I have not only a powerful sense of touch, but one with an incredible memory. I can look at a surface, feel in my head what it will feel like, touch it, and only feel slight differences. Granite feels like granite. Wood feels like wood. Bathroom door latches feel like bathroom door latches. (Although you turn them left to close them here, and right to open. Think about it.) This has turned out to be an immense comfort. Not only do the things I feel feel like home, but because this sense experiences so little that it doesn't remember or can't predict, it holds onto the things that I used to feel at home, but can't feel here...
Sam's hair.
My own pillow and bedding.
The last hugs I got from my siblings.
My car keys.
A quarter.
Cooking utensils.
The way my floor feels under my feet.
Mashed potatoes.
My doorknob.
And the biggest comfort of all, Sam's hands.
For instance.
Everywhere I go I hear unfamiliar sounds. Obviously, the language is the most noticeable: vowels that are somewhere in between our vowels, those used in German, and nothing I've ever heard before; consonants that sound like you took a break for air half way thru one sound and then said the second half with the first half of the next. (R-L, anyone?) But then there are more. Such as the elevator talking when you get to each floor. The sound of an engine not slowing down for you. And someone asking you in Korean, "What the **** are you doing?" Oh wait...how did I know that's what she said? Because now that I can't understand the words and the unfamiliar sounds, the tone, urgency, and pitch of the sounds all mean more than they ever have in the past. I hear less, but I hear more at the same time.
The scents are for the most part either very similar or very different. Cars smell like cars. People smell like people. Sewage smells like sewage. Food smells like food - tho I never quite know what to expect. The biggest surprise to this sense is the location I find those familiar scents.
Sights are similar in some ways. I see people, streets, food, cars, signs, clothes, stores, maps, water fountains, trash cans, decorations, cash registers, speedometers, eating utensils, souvenir shops, and even McDonalds. If I stop thinking for a minute I can convince myself that I'm back in America. But look closer... The people are all dark and small with dark hair. The streets are for the cars - they always have the right-of-way. The food is normally unrecognizable. (Don't fall into the trap of thinking it's not...) The cars are almost exclusively Hundais. The signs are in Korean. The clothes all look familiar, but the style is very unique. The stores are all little shops, normally convenience stores that sell everything. The maps are also in Korean. The water fountains are actually just water-bottle-filling stations. The trash cans are all color-coded. The decorations are not "Asian," they are normal. The cash registers read in the 1000's for a cheap meal. Speedometers are measured in kilometers per hour. (I an't explain the astonishment I felt for a split-second when my friend's Mom was driving at 100...Kph. Right.) Eating utensils, well, you can finish that one. Souvenir shops sell everything from hair bows to flags - Korean flags. And good ol' Mickey D's. Finally something I'll recognize, right? Wrong. I have no idea how to say "McDouble" in Korean, let alone to read it. And for the final blow to thinking that the sights predict deep similarities, McDonalds doesn't sell Parfaits here.
Big boo.
This brings me to the sense that normally feels like it's overloaded, numb, or reeling. Don't get me wrong, I like Korean food - much of it is healthy, tasty, creative, and down-right nommy. But imagine with me...you go to your favorite restaurant, you order something you've never ordered before, and it comes out looking like nothing you've ever seen before. So you take a sip of water to steady yourself, but it tastes oddly metallic. *shrug* It's still water, right? Finally you dig in and brave a bite. It's good. You chew, then swallow. Then go for another bite because you liked it. But wait...why did you like it - you can't for the life of you remember what it tasted or even felt like in your mouth. So you take another bite. It's good again. Then you swallow and once again you have no idea what you just ate.
If you've never experienced this before, it's probably almost impossible to understand. But suffice to say that much of the pleasure of eating is the anticipation. After 3 weeks here I am getting better at predicting and remembering hat my food will taste like. And even texture is becoming less of a surprise - tho still a huge factor. Two days after I arrived here, I was given a drink. It looked healthy so I took it. It tasted good too. I drank some and liked it so much that I wanted that taste more and more. But I couldn't bring myself to drink it. Why? Because there were jiggly chunks of something suspended in the somewhat thickened liquid. No matter how many times I told myself that I liked the taste and wanted more, I drank hardly any of it, and it was so strange to my mouth and stomach that it almost made me sick.
Food is, however, the only new texture.
I've realized that I have not only a powerful sense of touch, but one with an incredible memory. I can look at a surface, feel in my head what it will feel like, touch it, and only feel slight differences. Granite feels like granite. Wood feels like wood. Bathroom door latches feel like bathroom door latches. (Although you turn them left to close them here, and right to open. Think about it.) This has turned out to be an immense comfort. Not only do the things I feel feel like home, but because this sense experiences so little that it doesn't remember or can't predict, it holds onto the things that I used to feel at home, but can't feel here...
Sam's hair.
My own pillow and bedding.
The last hugs I got from my siblings.
My car keys.
A quarter.
Cooking utensils.
The way my floor feels under my feet.
Mashed potatoes.
My doorknob.
And the biggest comfort of all, Sam's hands.
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