Saturday, September 1, 2007

Justin Drinks Weird Stuff for Your Entertainment, Parts 2 and 3

Aloe Juice.


Actually, it's pretty good. Tastes a bit like the prickly-pear I had in Arizona, but sweetened. And with little chunks of aloe floating around, to boot!

Corn Tea


Yes, that's corn-flavored (or more like corn-scented green tea) in a can. And, yes, that's a garishly thin cartoon woman hugging a four-foot ear of corn.As for taste, results were mixed. It was incredibly strange, but not unpleasant. It basically was like tasting green tea while smelling roasted corn. (Or Bugles.) Not much of a corn taste really, just a corn smell. BONUS: In the vending machine, it was right next to the POCARI SWEAT.

A Little Catharsis

Just a short list of several annoying little things that aren't working according to plan.

Our internet connection. (Randomly shuts down every 5 minutes.)
Skype. (Horrible call quality, probably related to shoddy internet connection.)
SlingBox. (No idea. Should be working, as far as I can tell.)
Shipment. (Still not here yet. No idea why it's late.)
Garbage. (Can't figure it out. The recycling cans are only out Saturdays before 9AM?)
Taxis. (I'm about 1 for 30 on getting cab drivers to understand my sloppy Korean.)
Health care. (Apparently, most of our in-network doctors are almost an hour away.)
Chinese visas. (We're planning a trip to China, but the embassy has no weekend hours, closes at 5 and is 35 minutes away!)
Core reading books. (Still somewhere out on the high seas.)
Dog. (We have none. Oh, Kipper, I hope you're having fun in the Burgh!)

If you have any suggestions, send them our way!

Whew! What a week!

Sorry there haven't been any posts since Thursday. It's been one crazy week! Not only was Parents' Night pretty draining (I can give more details if you e-mail me, but for privacy reasons I can't really write much about it online), but some of the kids seem to have finally come out of their shells this week--and not in a good way! We actually had one kid, heretofore pretty quiet, sent to the principal's office five times in six hours yesterday (Friday). And while energy was pretty high in my literature circles, it was also a bit tough to keep the kids focused and on-task.

So, yes, while I totally intended to post before now, I spent most of yesterday simply surviving, and I spent most of today asleep. (Aside from a tasty lunch of dongaas--fried pork donkatsu--and buckwheat noodles in ice broth.) Which isn't bad, since it was a pretty dreary day today (cool and rainy), and we certainly weren't up to schlepping out to any museums in town.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Short Impressions of Korean Culture

I had a reader (actually, a cousin) ask me for a little bit more info about Korea in general--culture, weather, and the like. And while I don't consider myself an expert on the topic after only a few weeks, I think now is as good a time as ever to share a few first impressions of some more ephemeral things.

The first, and most amazing, and most amazingly boring insight is that, after about a month, Korea doesn't feel too foreign at all. Many of the core values at work in American society are at work in Korea, too--which is probably one of the reasons Korea and the US have become such close allies (though the military alliance is weakening these days, while the economic alliance is strengthening). It's a relatively Westernized economy, somewhere between American free-market capitalism and European sort-of-free-market socialism. There are some giant conglomerates with semi-official government backing (Hyundai and Lotte are the most ubiquitous), which gives certain aspects of the economy (i.e., limited consumer choice) a distinctly socialist flair. What I can't figure out about the economy, though, is the food. Basic economics suggests that prepared food in restaurants should be more expensive than bulk food from retail stores, but here the opposite is true: when the prices aren't the same, it's usually the restaurant food that's cheaper. How in the heck does that work?

So, let's see, that's the economy. How about the music? What little I've heard so far has been surprisingly groovy--lots of influence from American soul, with a little later Michael Jackson thrown in. Apparently, Korean pop culture is huge throughout East Asia right now--they call it hallyu, the "Korean Wave." The Japanese still rule the world of comics and animation, though. Our kids are extremely excited to be learning Japanese. (More on the Japanese later . . . the Koreans have this thing against the Japanese, what after they invaded Korea a century ago . . .)

Otherwise, there aren't too many glaring differences. The pace of life is pretty fast, but no faster than it was in D.C. People eat dinner late. But they eat with their families, which is kind of cool. (It can be very hard to order dinner for two in Korea, especially considering that most of the time one Korean serving can easily feed three.) The kids don't sleep enough. Most folks shop in giant box stores. (Homever = Target.) Even though Seoul has excellent public transit (and horrible traffic), people continue to drive around in their cars. The familiarity far outweighs the foreignness. Though there's certainly weird stuff. Like eating fish heads. I'll never understand that. (I don't normally like to eat things that can look me in the eye.)

Anyway, those are the first impressions so far. I'll try to make sure we add other "deep thoughts" from time to time, if only to keep us from getting too sucked into the school.!

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Lit Circles: First Day

Had our first trial run with our literature circle meetings today. For the most part, they went better than expected, though one class (which will not be named) was a (near-)total wreck.

For those who aren't up on the lingo, literature circles are kind of like book clubs for the classroom. The kids have a lot of choice as to what they read, and they lead book-club-like discussion in small groups, ideally with minimal direction from the teacher. The idea is to teach kids to read like adult readers do: choose books that interest them (and learn how to choose books that interest them), respond to them, and discuss them with colleagues or friends. There's a lot of research out there these days suggesting that this is one of the best ways to turn kids into lifelong readers. It's also a great way to differentiate instruction--kids will generally pick books within their abilities--and give the instructor (me) more time to work one-on-one (or one-on-four) with the kids.

But, man, getting these suckers started is hard! Our kids are so unfamiliar with so-called "student-centered" learning that I already realize I'm going to have to spend at least a couple weeks on teaching students how to ask the kinds of questions insightful readers ask. And as of today, the kids are still terrified of disagreeing with one another, which is something that will have to go.

For the time being, though, I'm satisfied with what went on today. Students read a short story (in class) earlier this week, and at the very least, they're excited to choose their reading for Friday. If I get nothing else out of them this week, I'll consider that a success.

On another note . . . I'm pretty sure my lecture on plot yesterday rocked. We basically all wrote a silly story together (mountaintop, treasure chest, snarling beast) and talked about what all the parts were. We spun off about a dozen different variations at each turning point of the story, and we also discussed a funny secondary story, man vs. society, which involved Mr. Goff wanting to grow up to be a ballerina. Plenty of giggling, plenty of raised hands, plenty of note-taking. All stuff teacher loves to see!

Dis and Indiscretions

Just noticed this morning that Justin and I were riding the very-crowded bus into work merrily discussing our digestive systems' reactions to Korean food, secure in the knowledge that although the average Korean has at least a few useful words of English, digestive slang tends not to be among them. This is probably a habit we should get out of before coming home for Christmas.

My fifth graders made construction paper totem poles yesterday. Some of them really took to it, to the point of asking to take them home to have extra coloring time, and some of them drew a few squiggles in the vague shape of eyes and called it a day. Still, I'm excited to have at least some student work up on the bulletin board for Parent's Night tomorrow.

I give my first test tomorrow, 8th grade geography. I am quite nervous, although probably not as nervous as the kids! How many questions do I ask? How do I write them as language-neutral as possible? On the homework, for instance, even my best English 8s struggled with the section that said "The name of the lines running east-west across the map are called..." and yet nearly aced the section where they had to actually use latitude and longitude to plot on a map. No problem with the concept, then, but problem with the questions. And I absolutely do not want to give a test that so badly mismeasures what people know.

Dilemmas, dilemmas...

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Cell phones and seollongtang

Got a cellphone the other day, through the tried and true method of asking someone who has some friends leaving town to score me a free phone. (South Korea uses a mobile phone protocol that's used by pretty much, oh, no one else in the world. In other words, Korean phones are useless outside of Korea.)

This is a big deal, because it can be really tough for foreigners to get phones here--or, more specifically, for foreigners to get phones they can use. You see, several of the big providers here require you to enter your national ID number to set up payment . . . and foreigners don't have a national ID. (No, we tried--alien registration card IDs don't work.) So foreigners either have to get a Korean friend to sign them up for a phone plan, or they have to get phones that are compatible with prepaid plans. . . . so getting a phone from a departing expat is a pretty safe way to go. Only problem is that I'm still getting the occasional text message from the guy's friends. And, his ringtones are awful. But, hey, as far as price goes, you can't beat free.

And, in other news, we've found another menu item that's not too spicy for Nana to eat: seollongtang, which is apparently the Korean equivalent of chicken noodle soup. Basically, a plain rice broth with some chives, a few veggies, and boiled beef. Whereas my latest culinary foray has been into the realm of jjigae, a spicy soup/stew (think spicy tortilla soup, with tofu and lots of cabbage). I can only be grateful that my tastebuds aren't terminally allergic to spice.

Coming soon: Parents' Night (aka, open house). Poor Nana's going to have to entertain the Saudi ambassador. Eek!

Sunday, August 26, 2007

OMGHOLYCRAP

Okay, so this has nothing to do with teaching in Korea, but I am excited beyond all reckoning by this and I just had to share.

I am a huge fan of a romance novelist named Carla Kelly, who also happens to hold a master's in military history. Once upon a time, she posted on a message board about a journal article she'd written on sanitation in frontier military forts, and me being me, I told her I'd love to read it. We e-mailed, she sent me a copy of the article, I told her I really enjoyed it, and at some point during the exchange, she told me she liked my name and could she use it in a romance novel sometime? Well, um, let me think! I told her absolutely, and then kind of forgot about it as work ate my life.

Can you tell where this is going?

Yes. Today on the same message board where I first bumped into her, I saw the following post by Ms. Kelly herself:

In the novel I'm currently working on (due to the publisher Dec. 15), my heroine is named Nana Massie, after a reader. This novel takes place during the bad bad days of the blockade of England in 1808-1809, and is named Worthy.

And my head exploded.

Can you believe it?!!!! I am not only going to be a romance novel heroine, but I'm going to be a heroine for one of my absolutely favorite authors of all time!!!!

Of course, I'm bracing myself for the moment when the publisher says, "That name is a disaster... can't you go with something like Louise?" But come on. This is still the awesomest thing to happen to me, well, ever. Or at least since I married Justin :) (Insert "awww" here).

God bless the Internet!

POCARI SWEAT!


Not so bad. Like Powerade, but briny.

Jongmyo and Changgyeonggung


I promise this won't be as bloated as the last photo post, or at least I'll do my best! But Nana and I spent yesterday gadding about town (which for two dorks like us usually includes at least one UNESCO World Heritage Site) . . . and I thought that y'all might be interested. So here goes.

We started by taking the Metro to Jongo and entering the Jongmyo-Changgyeongung complex from the park side (you can also enter through the palace gate). Apparently, the park outside Jongmyo is the place for old Korean men (exclusively men) to hang out on a hot Saturday afternoon . . . and do nothing. Absolutely nothing. We found quite a few clusters of old men scattered around the Jongmyo grounds, too. They were apparently undeterred by the whopping 1000W ($1) admission fee. (Edit by Nana: I believe there is no fee for the over-65)

So, Jongmyo, yes. Jongmyo (aka "Chongmyo") is the ancestral shrine of the Joseon (aka "Choson") dynasty--i.e., the guys who ruled Korea for a really long time, ending in 1915 with the Japanese occupation. (These were the same folks responsible for Gyeongbokgung, and for those turtle boats, too.)
At Jongmyo, the ruling king and (the men of) his royal family would gather for elaborate ceremonies honoring the family's deceased kings and queens--which not only included actual kings and queens, but often also any non-royal grandparents of any kings, who were made kings and queens posthumously. As you might have guessed, then, the place is huge. In fact, my sourced tell me (read: I found it on Wikipedia), the main hall at Jongmyo is the longest traditional building in Korea. (Edit by Nana: While he was taking these pictures, I was reading the signs, and the sign said that it's the longest)



And it's pretty big, in a way that these photos can't quite capture. The top photo at left is about 1/2 of the hall, and those kids are about 1/2 of the distance between the camera and the hall. In the bottom photo, I'm standing about at about 1/2 of the way to about 1/5 of the hall.





The rites, as described by a small exhibit and a video (thankfully) subtitled in English, are pretty complicated affairs, and are still performed once yearly by the descendants of the Joseon royal clan. They basically involve offering a full feast, including booze, to the spirit tablets of the deceased, which reside in the hall year-round. (Two other halls--an annex for posthumous royals and another for distinguished retainers--also house spirit-tablet shrines.) Unclear what happens to the food after the ceremony--though during the ceremony, some of it is burned. At right are just a few of the 40-odd ritual utensils laid out before each of the 100-some shrines at Jongmyo for the ceremonies each year. (These are the jars for the booze.)


After Jongmyo, then, we crossed over a footbridge into Changgyeonggung, the adjacent palace used as a summer home by Goryeo and Joseon kings. (Though why anyone would want to spend their summers in such a brightly-lit palace is beyond me.) On the way, though, we had a moment of confusion. Hills, ravines, out-of-control vegetation . . . wait, how did we get back to Pittsburgh? Witness my confusion. This will not be the last time you see this look on my face.


And, yes, Changgyeonggung. Itself sort of a humdrum palace (we wanted to cross into Changdeokgung, another UNESCO World Heritage Site, but it appeared to be closed), Changgyeonggung does offer some signature views of Seoul, such as at right, with the palace rooftops in the foreground and N'Seoul Tower in the back. (N'Seoul Tower = project for another day.) Alternately, you've got more palace rooftops fronting cityscape at left.













Finally, last but not least, the signature Seoul experience--turning your back on a bunch of skyscrapers and being suddenly reminded that you're surrounded by mountains. Yes, Seoul sits on just about the biggest stretch of flat land in the entire country, with maybe one exception in the southeast. The rest is all jagged peaks, not terribly high, but terribly steep. Can't wait to get up to some of them and hike around a bit. (Nana can wait, though.)
That's it for now. Time for a good, long day of lesson planning (with maybe another post thrown in). Anyung!

VICTORY!

The wireless router is working! Nana and I now have complete intarwebs access, unfettered and free!

Saturday, August 25, 2007

First Week: Survived

So the first week of school has come and gone, and while there have been more than a couple 12-hour days, neither of us is all that much worse for the wear. And a special bonus: the first Saturday we won't be spending at the school!

In fact, we actually had one-on-one meetings with our principal this week, and while he paid Nana and me pretty much the two greatest compliments I could think of ("You don't act like first-year teachers" and "The kids are telling their parents they've never had teachers like you" -- seriously, the parents are all posting to this giant Seoul education forum bragging about the middle school faculty at APIS), he also cautioned us against working too much. Which is a much easier warning to heed now that the school year is underway and much of the overhead work is already done!

So, today, then, will be devoted to adventure. What's the deal with Changdeokgung? Where's the best pot of tea in Insadong? Just as important: Can Justin and Nana set up wireless in the apartment? Can they buy cell phones? Can Justin buy some new shirts?

Stay tuned!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Geek Joy!

Google may very well be the greatest thing ever.

Observe:
I'm going to post all my assignments on Google Calendar.
I'm going to share my class calendars will all my kids.
I'm going to have the kids set up RSS feeds or e-mail alerts for every time I add or change homework--the e-mails will go to their APIS Gmail accounts.
I'm going to put all make-up work on Google Docs, online.
Every last one of these things will show up on the kids' customized APIS Google start pages.
Which will be the first thing they see when they go online.

No more "the dog ate my homework," baby! And a whole heck of a lot of saved trees.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

CHICKEN AND BEER . . .

. . . is awesome. Just in case you forgot.

Yeah, seriously--after a late evening at the school yesterday, Nana and I went with our friend/coworker Paul (the guy who speaks Korean) to a chicken shop a few blocks from the school. (A chicken shop named "Hoo-la-la," no less.) Paul had seen the place hopping a few nights before and decided so many people couldn't all be wrong.

And let me assure you, they weren't.

I had read before coming to Korea that the Koreans really knew how to do fried chicken and beer, but I was determined to withhold judgement--I've had some pretty good experiences with fried chicken and beer in the states. (Mmm. . . chicken, okra, and bock under a tree outside the Spoetzle Brewery in Shiner, Texas . . . yes, that Shiner . . .)

After the other night, though, I have to say you can believe what you read. The beer wasn't the world's greatest (they had Cass on tap, far inferior to Hite, which is itself only a decent/unspectacular beer), but the chicken was superb. It was fried super-crispy, but still tender, in some kind of soy-batter, so it was salty and sweet and a little bit zingy all at once. The price tag was a bit high, but like KBBQ, it's meant to be shared, and three people can dine heartily without anyone spending more than ten bucks.

So, yes, Korean fried chicken--certainly an experience everyone should have once in their lives!

Classroom Snapshot: Learning Skills

I thought it would be interesting for you, our loyal readers, if we occasionally penned a few lines about the kinds of things we're doing in our classes. Given our ESL situation here at APIS (i.e., we have a lot of ESL students), we've needed to be really flexible with our instruction, and we've also had to turn to a few innovative strategies for keeping the native speakers engaged and interested without letting the English language learners get too lost. Though I imagine this will be of the most interest to our other educator friends out there on teh intarwebs (Shana? Errol? Michelle--both of you?), I hope all y'all layfolk will dig this kind of thing, too.

Anyway, down to brass tacks. (I have to get all my goofy idioms out now--I can't use them yet with my kids!)

A majority of our students came to school last week completely unprepared. I know this is a mantra of whiny teachers everywhere, but at APIS it was particularly true. The parents clamored for weeks for a list of supplies the kids needed for class . . . and then completely ignored it. We had kids come to school last week without pens or pencils, let alone notebooks. (We had this problem at Shaw last year, but for a very different reason . . . You can trust me, if they're in this school, they can afford notebooks and pens!) The idea of note-taking seemed completely foreign to them. And don't even ask about speaking in class!

Apparently, note-taking isn't common in Korean schools (earlier post)--including several of the international schools, which are based on the old British model, which gives the students a lot of independence, but as far as guidance and classroom participation goes, it doesn't offer anything more than the typical Korean school. And speaking up in class? Even less so. Culturally, many of these kids came to APIS completely unprepared to function in an American-style classroom.

That's where I come in. We've been working from some pretty specific standards and benchmarks here at APIS, and we have a lot of material for every class . . . but most of my benchmarks are procedural, whereas most of everyone else's benchmarks are declarative. In other words, most folks are teaching whats and whys, while I'm teaching hows. My very vague and very generally-stated goal for the year is to get these kids ready to read well, and to speak and write coherently about books. Another way of putting it is that I have very few standards, but the standards are very broad. (You'll have to pardon me--when I'm tired I lapse into jargon.)

So I've gone ahead and thrown myself on the proverbial grenade and built my entire first unit for each grade level around basic learning skills: listening, speaking, note taking, test taking, and working in groups. I've been specifically trying to tie these lessons to material from other classes, and my lovely wife has been great about practicing these learning skills with her students in social studies class. It's been an uphill struggle, surely, but my hope is that a few days spent on basic skills (and basic expectations! i.e. "Yes, you should take notes during class!") will help the rest of the year--in every classroom--run much more smoothly. So far, results have been pretty good, though only time can tell just how well the lessons took.

And now, I surrender the floor to you, our loyal readers. Can you think of any learning skills other than the ones I mentioned that fairly clueless middle schoolers absolutely need to know? If you're an edumacator, have you ever found yourself needing to throw a unit like this at 8th graders? How normal is this? (I have no idea!) And finally, a question for everyone: Can you think of any writing topics you really, really enjoyed in middle school or high school? My next unit is on the writing process, and I want to assign a short piece, preferably autobiographical, for the kids to work with throughout the unit.

Thanks for your help!

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Irony

Why is it that my students don't know enough English to read a textbook page without help, but they know enough English to know that "homo erectus" is funny?

Two all-beef patties, special sauce...

Things you can order at a Korean McDonald's:

Bulgogi Burger (Bulgogi is Korean shaved beef, kind of like roast)
Shanghai Spice Chicken Burger
Shrimp Burger
Crazy Hot Chicken Folder (from the picture, I think they mean "pita")
Thai Chili Sauce McNuggets

and of course, that ever-popular side dish, Corn Salad.

I wussed out and got the cheeseburger. "Cheeseburger" in Korea is pronounced "chee-su-bu-guh." It will get you though a lot.

PS. The advertising campaign for their new spicy menu is "HOT 4 YOU." I think I met that guy in a chat room once...

Sunday, August 19, 2007

I Stand Corrected!




Some Koreans are comfortable confronting their elders, provided their elders are reconstructed anthropomorphic gargoyles at a Joseon-era palace. And provided the umbrella goes with the shirt.

I would have loved to hear this conversation.

Man: "-nee-kka?"

Turtle: "-nee-da!" (Translation: "What would I know, I'm just a stone turtle! Hah!")

On the Start of School: Lessons Learned

Well, now, the real work begins.

Nana and I weathered the proverbial storm of the first two days of school admirably, if I do say so myself, although we may be a little worse for the wear--we find ourselves completely exhausted this weekend, but (as of yesterday) still with a whole week's worth of planning to do. But we're learning (I hope) and for me at least, each lesson plan gets a little easier to write, and there is even, somewhere on the distant horizon (a few weeks from now?) the possibility of a full weekend off. By which I don't mean a full weekend without any school work to be done--oh, no--just a weekend during which we don't need to spend time at the school. (We were there for about five hours yesterday.) Oh frabjous day!

In any case, here's what I actually meant to do with this post--write a witty, insightful list of some of the lessons we've learned since the start of school three days and a billion years ago.

1. When dealing with middle schoolers, the normal rules that govern the flow of time do not apply. Say you look at the clock and it's 10:40. You start the class working on a fifteen-minute journal assignment. What time is it fifteen minutes later? That's right, it's the end of the period, at 11:35. But the next day, the same assignment could be over at 10:42. In other words, for every lesson, you have either planned twice as much, or half as much, as you need. And as far as I know, there's no telling which one any given activity will be. I've taken 10 minutes to get my ESL kids to get their notebooks and pencils out. But the fairly complicated index-and-table-of-contents exercise I did with the same class on Friday only took five.

2. Most students in domestic Asian schools go through the whole day without saying a word. This is considered a success. Talking is something you do with your tutor--and even then, you had better make sure you mumble, or even cover your mouth when you speak. (Seriously, I have a student who covers her mouth every time she speaks. I can't even hear her over my own breathing.) This has been a serious problem, on top of the language barrier. The kids who have been in American schools not only speak English better, but they're used to interacting with the teacher and with one another in class. And the kids who haven't have two strikes against them: weaker English skills and an ingrained terror of uttering anything that even sounds like a word in the classroom.

3. The same goes for note-taking, it seems. I've had students look at me funny when I asked if they brought a pen and note paper to class. I actually had to pass out note paper and pencils on Friday when I wanted the kids to respond in writing to some questions on the board. I'm told this is normal--apparently, in most Korean schools, the students sit passively and absorb throughout the day, then learn what they can at night from their textbooks and, if they have the money, from their tutors. So no wonder all the kids I see look like they've been awake since the dawn of time! They're wasting eight hours a day! Lesson learned, though: Most of us middle-school teachers have scrapped our previous plans for this upcoming week in favor of a mini-unit on active-listening, note-taking, and discussion skills. In other words, we're going to spend a week getting the kids to talk to us and to write while we talk. It's not their fault, of course--they just came into this having no idea what was going to be expected of them in an American-style classroom.

4. By the way, did I mention that almost all of our kids are Korean? And a majority have never lived overseas or studied in an American or international school. Apparently, those rules governing admission to international schools are made to be broken. Which is fine, it just means we've got a different set of challenges to face: instead of a classroom full of expats and diplobrats (highly independent, to a fault), we've got a classroom full of Koreans (highly respectful, but terminally shy).

5. Our biggest challenge this year won't be educating our English language learners; it will be keeping our (minority of) strong English speakers interested while the rest of the class catches up. I expect a lot of growth very quickly from the ESL kids--they have a ton of support, with an hour of ESL class and two hours of after-school ESL tutoring every day--but I just hope we haven't lost the other kids by the time the ESL crowd is ready to go. This first semester will be interesting, to say the least.

6. And, last but not least: It's not actually that bad to work really hard at something that interests you, or something you care about. This past week, Nana and I have been putting in more hours than we ever did last year in DC, with one particular week of my paralegal misadventures excepted. We're tired, and more than a little nervous at the prospect of keeping these kids engaged and learning through the rest of the year. But we're happy, when we have time to think about it. The work is good.

Plus, the weather is clearing up, which helps. But which also introduces a new problem: instead of crushing heat and rain, now we have searing heat and sun.

For now, all the best from the both of us. Keep the comments coming--posted here, e-mailed, or otherwise. We both love the attention! And it means a lot to us to know that we have such strong support from family and friends.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Day 2, Adieu

Whew! Day 2--our first normal school day--has passed in a blur. No serious injuries, physical or otherwise. Check.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Exhaustion!!!

We have reached 3:40 PM, which under normal circumstances would mean the school day is over, but today means we have to keep a bunch of wiped-out kids in the room until the assembly, when we have to keep them still for about two hours of hymns, speeches, and plaque presentations. I have them doing their math homework now, but that'll be done soon and I have no idea what will happen next. I don't think this afternoon was planned with child psychology in mind. Or teacher psychology, actually.

A good day but with some things to be concerned about. If a class has a non-Asian kid in it, that kid (at least today) always appears to be on the edge of things, which is not going to be okay at all in the long run and isn't good in the short run either. The sixth grade is... shall we say, high-energy? Welcome to hormone-ville. And it's so hard to teach a class when half the kids are looking at you like, "I have no idea what you just said to me." Except they're probably thinking it in Korean.

Anyway, tomorrow should be yet another very interesting day. And at least I'll probably get to teach it on a full night's sleep - yesterday I was so nervous that I probably slept three hours.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

I Lied: Photos of Our Classrooms

Nana wanted me to throw a few of these up so you could have some idea of what what we're doing looks like . . .

(By the way, that third picture's the before picture. Rows? Bah! How about seminar style? Woot!)

Wish us luck!



Photo Post: Gyeongbokgung Palace

Yesterday I posted an entry (with a bunch of photos) about our visit to Gyeongbokgung Palace (link), but thanks to the vagaries of Blogger, it posted before two of Nana's posts, though it was actually finished after.

So if you missed it, click here (or either of the links above).

The First Day of School . . .

. . . is almost upon us. Which means you probably won't be hearing from us for a day or two--I'll try to put up a short post on Friday, but Saturday is a better bet.

The current mood here at APIS (among those who've stayed late--it's almost 7PM now, and there's pizza on the way) is a mixture of exhaustion, anxiety, anticipation, and relief. Plus a whole lot of punchiness.

Anyway, for now, it's back to the grindstone. There's so much that needs to be done when you're opening a school! And it'll be a long day tomorrow (we have an inauguration ceremony at 5PM and a reception at 7), so we're going to need what little rest we can get.

In the meantime, any leftover prayers or good vibes you've got would be much appreciated.

(But, man, I can't believe the kids will be here tomorrow . . . that's so unreal!)

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Nana & Her Croissant Are Displeased

GAH!

I will be really happy once they get the volume on the bell system here at the school settled down. I just got blown out of my seat again.

Data Call!

Okay everyone, time for me to pick your brains.

I talked to Esther (the ESL-teacher heroine in the movie of the life of APIS) and we agreed that when you're dealing with a foreign language (which we are; 1/2 of my kids are taking English) things are much easier to memorize in song format. What I would like to do is get songs that address the topics of the day in Social Studies and use them to help make the information "stickier" for the kids. Esther has offered to use her Friday class specifically on Social Studies (didn't I tell you she was a heroine?) and could make the song lyrics her translation project.

The question is, what songs?

And this is where you come in.

My topics include :
US History, Native Americans - 1900 (although primarily through Civil War)
the Ancient World (Egypt, Sumer, Indus Valley, ancient China, mesoamerica)
the Classical world (Greece, Rome)
Medieval Middle East ("Golden Age of Islam")
Medieval China
Medieval Europe
Medieval Africa (Mali, Ghana)
Medieval Japan
"Medieval" America (Incas, Aztecs Maya - societies existant during the Age of Discovery)
The Renaissance
The Reformation
The Age of Discovery
The Scientific Revolution
The Enlightenment
Culture of the Pacific/Asia (China, Japan, The Koreas,India, Pakistan, Israel, Saud Arabia, The Stans, Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand, Pacific Islands

Yes, it's going to be a full year!

So in any case, what have you got? I've got a couple of Civil War songs, songs from 1776, "Madame Guillotine" from The Scarlet Pimpernel if we make it to the French Revolution, "The Impossible Dream" from Man of la Mancha to teach chivalry, and Pharoah's song from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat if I really can't think of anything better. So please, send me ideas!

And anybody who can come up with a song about Medieval Africa gets my undying respect (whatever that's worth!)

Gyeongbokgung Palace (A Much-Belated Entry)

(Note: Photos may not load if you're getting this through e-mail or an RSS reader.)

About a week ago, I promised you, loyal readers, a post about our visit to Gyeongbokgung Palace--when our internet connection was up and running and I could post some photos. Well, given that it may be another week plus before said connection materializes, I've decided to sneak a short photo post in here at the school.

Gyeongbokgung Palace was the main and largest palace of the Joseon (aka Choson, Chosun) Dynasty. The Joseon ruled the Korean Peninsula for a little more than five hundred years (1392-1910) after they overthrew the Goryeo Kingdom (sounds like "Korea," doesn't it? Hint, hint.), who themselves rules the peninsula for about 450 years. (Bonus: the Joseon kept right on using the name Goryeo for a long time, both because Koreans love old stuff and because Goryeo was also the name of the first great ancient kingdom in Korea.)

Anyway, among other neat stuff, the Joseon built Five Grand Palaces in Seoul (their capital) and Gyeongbokgung was the one built for the king.

Gyeongbokgung was certainly built to impress. Even without the famous Ganghwamun Gate (under renovation), the palace is a forbidding sight. You enter through a large secondary gate, shown here (along with fellow teachers Colleen and Heidi and, of course, my lovely wife), guarded by impressive looking men in traditional garb and wielding very shiny weapons. The view behind the gate encompasses a series of rocky crags (and the view looking out from the gate encompasses a bunch of skyscrapers, but we'll forget that part for now). Amazing to think that this was actually a somewhat small palace by East Asian standards--Korea's suzerain relationship with China spelled out that the Korean king's palace had to be smaller than the Chinese emperor's by a certain amount.



Here is one of the aforementioned guards. I opted not to try him with my kung fu. Anyone out there know more about the duds or the weapon or anything? A quick search turned up squat.






From the gate, then, you walk across a broad plaza and through another large gate to the throne building (left), hopefully taking time to notice some of the careful architectural details (below).




(By the way, have you ever noticed that Blogger makes it incredibly hard to use photos in your posts? This has been twice as much work as I expected, and the layout looks like crap!)

At the back of the grounds, then, is the impressive Korean National Folk Museum, though since I didn't go in (and Nana went in only briefly), more detail will have to wait for another day. Still, the museum was an imposing structure, and for reasons I haven't quite come to understand, has these little stone and wood (animist?) totems scattered around outside.

Anyway, that's about as much Blogger-wrangling as I can handle right now, so I guess I'd better get back to work. (My real work, that is.)




Monday, August 13, 2007

The Continuing Trials and Tribulations of Korean Internet

So I suppose some of you might be wondering why neither of us posted yesterday (Sunday . . . which may have been Saturday for some of you . . . which still confuses me . . .). I mean, it was totally Sunday, and we totally had nothing to do. (Besides go to the Kyobo Bookstore--more on that later, perhaps.)

Unfortunately, life has not been that simple for us, at least as far as teh intarweb is concerned. We still have no connection at the apartment, and my repeated attempts to sneak onto a neighbor's wireless connection have not met with success. This is especially frustrating because it looks like we may not have an internet connection in the apartment any time soon. Apparently, the school has had a minor falling-out with its internet provider over some shadiness on the provider's part pertaining to teachers' home connections--the internet provider is insisting that each teacher buy a modem and pay for a separate connection (to the tune of $30/month), even though we're very much aware that this is total bs. Now, the providers are willing to go ahead and install modems, but they won't set up wireless in our apartments, nor will they set up LANs for multiple computers . . . which wouldn't be a problem if all the manuals and dialog boxes weren't in Korean. Sadly, there is no one person here in whom tech skills and Korean ability overlap.

In the meantime, Nana and I will be writing our posts from the school, time permitting--and time may become a very precious commodity once classes start later this week. (Thursday!) And hopefully we'll have internet in the apartment before too long.

In other news: I finally figured out how to keep Google (and I mean everything Google--Gmail, Calendar, Blogger) to stop displaying in Korean!

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Dinner with the board, and bus chiropractors

Last night, we all got varying degrees of gussied up and hopped on our trusty yellow APIS bus for a meet-and-greet dinner with the APIS Board of Directors at the Seoul Club. (Hah! See me vanquish the challenge of inserting hyperlinks!) The Seoul Club is a lot like a country club, with a pool and squash courts and a restaurant with really, really good steak. The view is also quite spectacular. As we've mentioned, it's still monsoon season here, which means low-hanging cloudcover and rather poor distance visibility for most of our stay thus far, but the weather kindly gave us a break last night so we could enjoy a lovely view of the mountains and looking down over the city. It's hard to get a feeling for how big Seoul is when you can't see very far in it (when the clouds aren't obstructing your view, the buildings are) but last night I started to figure it out.

Justin and I were seated with fellow teacher and fellow Yalie Sara at what proved to be a stacked table - everyone was either a former Yale undergrad or grad student. Another table was the Dartmouth table. Dr. Kim is organized like that.

In any case, it was a very interesting evening. We enjoyed talking to the board members about how they got involved in APIS (pretty much the same answer as we gave - Dr. Kim is very, very hard to say no to!) and what they do in their non-APIS lives. The Yalies promised to help us get in touch with the Yale Club here, which is evidently very active in spite of having precisely no Internet presence. So we're looking forward to that.

I would give the evening an A except for the part where I got wretchedly, wretchedly bus-sick on the way home. See, drivers here seem to believe that if you have ten feet between you and the car in front of you, which is at a dead stop, the correct protocol is not to calmly close the gap but rather to attain the maximum possible speed over eight of those feet before slamming on the brakes. Maybe it's because if you don't seize the moment, the ten feet of gap will rapidly turn into somebody's Hyundai, and you'll never get anywhere. But there must be a part on the Korean bus driving exam about this, because everybody does it (cars and taxis do it too, but not with quite so much gusto).

Once the bus gets off the main thoroughfares and onto the little one-way one-lane windy market roads, you'd think that this problem would go away, since nobody can cut in front of you anymore. You would be correct, but in its place, we substitute the new problem of giant speed bumps. Once again, the correct protocol is not to maintain a slow, steady pace, but rather to accelerate as much as possible in the space separating the bumps (usually only about twenty feet), slam on the brakes, and zip away again once you're over the bump. And please note that "you're over the bump" means "the driver," not "the bus." As soon as the front wheels of the bus hit level pavement, it's damn the rear axle and full speed ahead.

Justin and I have this attraction to look forward to every day, twice a day, on our commute to school. Sitting directly over the rear wheels, I've sometimes gotten as much as a full inch between my butt and the chair. I think I get off the bus a half-inch shorter due to spinal compression. We've since given up sitting for standing, which gives us an excellent workout clinging madly and comically to bus poles. I mean, we're so hairy. We looked like monkeys before. Did we really have to add the pole-dangling?

Friday, August 10, 2007

A Quick Guide to Opening the Pod Bay Doors


(Note: pictures may not load if you're using an RSS reader or if you receive updates by e-mail.)

This is Hal. Hal is the air conditioner for my classroom. Hal's job is to make the room nice and cool so the kiddies can learn and so Mr. Goff can save money on dry cleaning bills.

Hal may be an appliance, but like many appliances in Korea, Hal has a personality. You see, Hal is a sensitive fellow, who pays great attention to detail. He won't change settings unless you turn him off first--he's not a butler, he's an expensive piece of machinery, and you can't just order him around. And if you try to use him as a regular old fan, well, Hal doesn't like that very much. He'll huffle. He'll stop and start. And every moment he'll threaten to shut himself off and plunge you and your classroom into the humid abyss of monsoon. So you'd better be nice to Hal, hadn't you? Hal's just trying to do his job, just like you.

In other news, Nana and I have discovered (thanks Paul!) what the mysterious drawer under our sink is for. It's a giant bin for dry rice. If you push the button, one serving of dry rice spurts out the bottom of the bin onto the floor (or into a pot, I suppose, if you know what to expect).

Also, despite knowing our enemy, Nana and I were soundly defeated by the doorbell last night. We were trying to let poor Paul in the building, but we accidentally (I swear!) called the guards. Perhaps the doorbell and the dryer conspiring against me? I didn't mean that bit about pitting you against one another in a fight to the death!

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Sorry we can't be there. Hope you've had fun!

(UPDATED) Tigers and Dragons and Hippos, Oh My!

Haven't posted myself for a while, eh? Guess I've been too busy with the kung fu.

Anyway. As you may have guessed, Nana and I have been making our first furtive forays into the Korean language, and so far we like what we see. That is, the alphabet (hangeul) is really cool, and some of the idioms are downright hilarious. For example:

Water-eating hippo: This guy is a little open-topped plastic box filled with some kind of salt designed to keep your stuff dry and mold-free during the monsoon (which is now--more on that later). He in no way resembles a hippo. At all.

Room tiger: This is the alarm setting on our doorbell, which is about 10x smarter than we are. (Being outsmarted by technology has been a common theme so far.) Unfortunately, the room does not, in fact, growl at unwanted visitors, let alone release a hungry tiger into the hallway, though if it did we'd have the option of witnessing the carnage on our doorbell's little video screen. Instead, the room tiger just shrieks. Loudly. And summons the super, I think.

Ironing steam dragon: This is one of the settings on the dryer (which refuses to bend to our will). The term is singularly unhelpful in indicating what in the heck the setting is for. My best guess is that it's a "damp dry" setting . . . but as far as I can tell, every setting is "damp dry" (except for river, which seems to be "sopping wet dry," which totally shouldn't even be a kind of dry . . .).

Now if only there were some way to set the room tiger against the ironing steam dragon in a fight to the death.

UPDATE: I totally forgot something! It's not quite as goofy as those posted above, but in the interests of encyclopedic pedantry, I feel like I should include the . . .

Pig's nose: The Korean term for the adapter that connects American plugs to Korean electrical outlets (which are of the circular, two-prong kind). Apparently, the female American plug looks like a pig's nose, and I suppose it sort of does. Though I don't quite know what they make of that third hole . . . a piercing maybe?

Korean Technology Update #2: You win some, you lose some

With the help of the ever-intrepid Esther, we have mastered the stove! Evidently there is a master gas pipe at the back of the stove, and if you don't turn the little green knob, no gas will flow out of the pipe and into your burners. Upon turning this knob, we were able to light the stove, and now can look forward to many pan-fried dumplings. Also, our school-issued microwave should be arriving soon. A culinary bonanza!

We did, however, have to admit defeat on the dryer, which is even now chuckling smugly and indolently to itself as the washer beavers away. More accurately, I suppose, if I did not explain this already, the dryer SETTING is laughing while the washer SETTING works - the laundry machine is a combination washer-dryer. We cannot revenge ourselves on the dryer setting without taking out the innocent (and actually rather hard-working) washer as well, which explains the failure of our plan to intimidate the dryer by showing it the scene from Office Space where they take the recalcitrant fax machine out into the woods and beat it with baseball bats. So we bought a drying rack, which is now stationed under the air conditioner, and plan to move on to bigger battles, like figuring out what the weird drawer under the sink is.

Two further updates: intrepid reader Erin ("intrepid" seems to be my word of the day) writes to ask what the "ROK" in "School of ROK" stands for. The answer is Republic of Korea, the official name of South Korea. This makes it really fun to look for South Korea in computer drop-down menus and the like: sometimes it's under "S", for "South Korea," sometimes under "R," for "Republic of Korea," and sometimes just "Korea," on the grounds that nobody needs an international calling card extension in North Korea because they don't have any phones.

And update #2, after a very firm poke by Justin, the freight forwarder reports that our worldly belongings are on a ship and en route for South/Republic of/ Korea. This is awesome, and entirely due, I believe, to the staunch support of our readers. So thank you for your good vibes. Now we need to pull for a safe, timely arrival and good delivery. I have faith in you.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

In other news...

We're getting some not-so-humorous silence out of our shipping company. Jim, if you got a reply when you sent them the check scan, would you let us know? And everyone else, please send good shipping and honesty vibes our way...

Everybody was Kung-fu fighting (or at least Justin was...)

Yesterday the school very kindly sent us all out to see a show. We were told beforehand that it was, alternately, a martial arts demonstration, dance, a play, and a comedy. Translation error? Not really, no:

http://www.jumpjump.jp/en/

The show is called JUMP. I don't know if it debuted at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival (perhaps my cousin Xela has seen it?) but it was certainly a huge hit there. It is basically a slapstick comedy, virtually without any dialogue, performed by a cast of not only gifted comedians but stellar martial artists and acrobats/tumblers. The plot follows a family of martial artists through the arrival of a guest, the courtship of daughter and future son-in-law, and a really bad idea of a burglary attempt.

Halfway through the first act, the grandfather character comes up the aisle making jokes as he looks for the master martial artist he knows is visiting, sitting in the audience. Esther, another teacher, is Korean and fluent in English, and gave us some translations as he came along - jokes like, "You! So good to see you! When did you get out of jail?" etc., as he looks for the master.

And then, halfway up the aisle, he found the master.

And it was Justin.

He has Justin stand up, in the middle of the auditorium, and asks in English, "Where are you from?" Justin tells him, "America," and he says, "Whoaaa! U-S-A! U-S-A!" The audience is going crazy at this point, especially all the APIS teachers. He's speaking half-Korean and then every now and then in English, too fast for Esther to translate, and there's the noise from the laughter, so basically we have no idea what's going on. At some point, he manages to express to Justin that he wants Justin to follow him.

On stage.

So now we have my husband, the light-haired, bearded, dress-shirt-and-slacks-clad American, up on stage with this cast of martial artists, whom he, as the master, is supposed to mentor. The uncle character does a high kick and challenges Justin to respond (I do remember recognizing the Korean word, ap-cha-gi, from high school Taekwondo). Justin kicks, as best a man in slacks with no intact knee ligaments can. I have to say, he got pretty good extension.

They all fling themselves backward in terror. Crowd goes wild.

Then the uncle character does a somersault, which he turns into a handstand. Justin holds up his hands, but with some encouragement from the cast, he gives it a go. He hands his glasses to the grandfather (this gets a big laugh), bends down, and somersaults across the stage, strategically omitting the handstand.

Tumultuous applause.

And now, as I'm starting to wonder when exactly my husband turned into Buster Keaton, the grandfather informs the audience that because Justin is a master, he must be carrying hidden weapons, and the family ought to search him. They come around him and manage to pull various items - a knife from his pocket, nunchuks from his sleeve, and a two-foot long sword out his shirt collar. I wondered why it always felt so pokey when I gave him a hug.

So in the end, they thanked him, returned his glasses, and sent him back to his seat with a very nice printed program and much cheering from the peanut gallery. His moment in the sun is over but now we all know his secret: his stealth moment, as ninja-by-night, is just beginning...

Monday, August 6, 2007

Korean Technology Update, or I Love My Shower But I Fear My Toilet

Computers:

Still no Internet at home yet, and yesterday's attempt to go to the public internet cafe ("PC Bang," or "PC Room") failed in the face of the entire middle school age population of Korea taking up all-day residence in the bang to play World of Warcraft. We also don't have internet at the school, because some quirk of the wireless routers means they won't talk to our foreign computers. Until they get a software patch, we're limping along on vintage laptops (still about three operating systems more advanced than my Navy desktop) with an entirely Korean-language interface. You know those little "Y/N" popups you get all the time as you log in and out of things? I think I just gave Gmail my firstborn child.

Washer/Dryer

A partial victory here, inasmuch as our laundry is washed but not even bordering on dry. The dryer cycle here consists of a few limp clockwise turns, a complete halt, a few limp counterclockwise turns, halt, and repeat. We have tried about every combination of buttons we can think of but it always seems to end the same way, tumbling impotently along. I think it knows that if it performs poorly enough, we'll just give up and buy a drying rack and it will never have to work again.

Stove

We have a set of gas burners, but no idea how to operate them. There is no obvious pilot light, and when you twist the dials, you get an ominous hissing sound which does not lead you to want to experiment with finding it. Fortunately, as Justin has noted, we live upstairs from about fifty restaurants in which we can eat for little to no money, so we haven't had to force the issue. And as long as Justin doesn't get tired of cold spicy fruit noodle soup, we'll be able to muddle along.

Air Conditioner

"Air Con" in Korean. Justin has mastered it. I just push buttons until the air sounds and feels like it's doing what I hoped for. My primary role is to do the math to translate the Celcius temperatures into Fahrenheit. It's a great air conditioner - a long, rectangular wall unit that can transform the room in under ten minutes. When we lived in Washington, it was cheaper to leave the AC on at a low level all day than to try to run it just at night when we were home. We may end up programming the AC here to maintain the temperature instead of to run constantly (a feature way beyond the capacity of our early-1990s era DC unit) but since the low level will cool the place off pretty well and the insulation is good, we may just leave it off all day. No idea what utilities will cost here.

The Bathroom
a haiku

Eight shower nozzles
should spray me, but I think that
the toilet should not.

We have two fantastic full bathrooms. The one off the master bedroom (ah, the luxury of multiple rooms!) has a great shower head, a hand unit, and a set of six water jets that look kind of like udders. And the controls are very self-explanatory: hot is red, cold is blue, the picture of the hand unit controls how much water goes to the hand unit, same with the shower head and udders. All in all, it provides a very intuitive and relaxing hygiene experience.

And then there's the toilet.

We have a Samsung toilet seat that PLUGS IN because it has all sort of electronically controlled water jet functions, which I cannot describe here because I can't begin to determine what they are. They really need to be seen to be believed, and I promise that of all the things we could photograph here in Korea, we will prioritize sharing this toilet with you. The warning labels alone have led me to just leave it unplugged and hope I never make it mad.

Justin may write a post on the temple and museums that we visited or the trip to Itaewon (kind of the foreigners' district) or the many significant and profound experiences we have been having, but you can get cultural information a lot of places. When it comes to techno-toilets and dryers practicing game theory, remember, you heard it here first.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

First Korean Dinner, First Korean Beer!

I assume you're all dying to hear more about the school and the apartment, but I'm going to hold off until we've got our internet access up and running so I can post some pics. Rest assured that the apartment is very large, very nice, and very Korean (we needed the dictionary just to unlock the door), and the neighborhood is great--lots of food, and no fewer than two giant "marts" (kind of a cross between a market, a small mall, and a Wal-Mart) a five-minute walk away.

So last night, after work, Nana and I had our first solo (if that's the right word) Korean dinner experience, with a colleague/neighbor named Josh. (By "solo," I mean without an interpreter--so far we've been leaning heavily on the indefatigable Paul, who's lived here for five years.) Paul picked the restaurant for us ahead of time--by the time honored method of leaning out the bus window and taking a whiff--but after that, we were on our own.

The restaurant was a Korean BBQ (on the first floor of our building, no less), similar to KBBQs we'd been to in DC, and therefore a pretty safe bet. With the aid of a picture menu, 22,000 won (convienently, about $22) got us a big plate of five different meats, lettuce for wrapping, onions, two kimchis (spicy pickled cabbage side dishes), and a cole slaw salad. The meat was excellent, and the table grill was especially good, with the gas burner augmented by some aromatic woods.

3,000 won more got us two big domestic beers (each about 22oz), one of which (Hite) was a very good, fairly sweet kolsch-style lager, and one of which (Cass) was pretty bland. But finding the Koreans capable of decent, cheap beer has certainly raised my spirits, so to speak. Can't wait to do the Korean fried chicken and beer!

In any event, the proximity of at least one very good, very cheap restaurant (Nana and I could have easily split one of the 5,000-8,000 won single-meat plates) doesn't bode well for our kitchen . . . given the grocery prices I've seen so far, there's no way we could spend much less than 5,000-8,000 won cooking on our own!

Friday, August 3, 2007

In Memoriam: Dr. Homer Hulbert

It figures that my first post would be from Korea, where all the directions are written in Korean on a computer with a Korean interface. So yeah, honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing.

Today we went to a memorial service for a man named Dr. Homer Hulbert, and if I were smarter at this, I'd link his name to a web site but I'll have to do this some other time. Essentially, he was an American who served in Korea as a missionary at the turn of the century and ended up the most revered Westerner in Korean history. Dr. Hulbert (1870-sthg. to 1949) was the first person to translate much Korean literature into English, and he also served as a fierce advocate for Korean independence during the era of Japanese colonization. He's the official inspiration for our school. Today's event marked the 58th anniversary of his death.

And I just want to say that if I ever become a national hero, I would like it to be in Korea. This was a tremendously nice ceremony, although it is still extremely hot and humid here. I have to agree with the one English-language speaker, who said that as much we would have liked Dr. Hulbert to remain with us indefinitely, it would have been especially nice if he could have held on another couple of months.

In addition to the speeches in Korean and English, there was a plaque presentation, a flower-placement ceremony in front of a picture of Dr. Hulbert, and music performed by the quite-excellent Seoul Police Band. Selections included the most popular Korean folk song, Arirang, which Dr. Hulbert was the first to transcribe, and the American and Korean national anthems (Justin describes the Korean national anthem as "Schumannesque"). And it wasn't even a particularly prominent anniversary - if they do this for the 58th, I can't imagine what they'll do for the 60th.

The hosts - the Hulbert Memorial Association (or perhaps Trust) - flew in Dr. Hulbert's 80-something granddaughter and great-grandson and my little history major heart sang with joy when they donated some of his papers to the Hulbert Memorial Association here in Korea. Nothing beats keeping sources accessible to researchers. Among the papers were a letter from the emperor asking Dr. Hulbert to watch out for his nephew ("to treat him as [his] own son"), who was studying abroad in the US, a photograph of the Hulbert family in front of a Korean screen, and the letter in which Dr. Hulbert wrote that he would rather be buried in Korea than Westminster Abbey. Personally, I was leaning towards the Taj Mahal, but Dr. Hulbert had one thing right: when you're a national hero, Korea is certainly a very nice place to be dead.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

A Safe Arrival!

Well! Not much time for a post now--we're on a brief pause in our orientation activities (most of which involve eating copiously), so I thought I would sit down at one of our new computers and let anyone out there who's wondering know that Nana and I have arrived safely in Seoul.

More to come shortly--probably in a few days, when our internet connection is up and running in our apartment . . . which is garishly huge. (Especially compared to last year's DC shoebox.) For now, there's much jet lag to overcome, and much shopping to do.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

So here goes . . .

There must be something else to do, right? Another undershirt to pack, another credit card company to wrangle, another CD to rip. But the bills are paid, the itineraries printed, the bags packed. (Mostly.) We've got a Ziploc full of toothpaste and lotion. We've got Pop-Tarts. We've got two books each. We've got drugs.

I remember this exact feeling from right before the wedding earlier this month. Nana can concur. It's like this huge thing that was something you've been going to do for a really long time is suddenly real. I mean, tomorrow (or Wednesday, actually--if the Good Lord's willing and the creek don't rise) we'll be standing in the immigration line at Incheon. We'll ride in a Korean taxi to an apartment whose address we'll only just have learned. We'll probably fight with a few customer service reps over lost luggage. We'll eat dinner. If we're lucky, before midnight, we'll go to sleep.

And a few weeks from now, we'll be teaching a bunch of kids we've never met, but who've suddenly become just about the most important people in our lives (at least until quitting time). We'll have visited a Korean doctor. We'll have opened a checking account at a Korean bank. And eventually, we'll start to feel normal--or as normal as two people like us can feel, at least. Live octopus will be a little less shocking. Learning curves won't feel quite as steep.

But for now, there's only all the usual emotions--a little fear, a little excitement, a lot of exhaustion, an occasional dash of frustrated rage. (The earpiece of my glasses randomly exploded last night. Seriously. That's just what I need!) I'd say I know I won't get to sleep tonight, but that's a lie. Though Nana won't, I'm sure.

And in the meantime, I've been ingesting every calorie of American food in sight, knowing that it'll be Christmas before I can get a decent burger for less than 12 bucks. For the record, our last dinner in the states will be Boston Chicken. Right now. Yum.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Federal Pound-Me-Into-Ash Prison

After an impromptu viewing of Office Space last night (yes, we're still in Ohio, biding our time, trying not to tear each other apart over all this packing), I hereby nominate that all future pop-culture cliches should be gleaned from clumsily-dubbed cable TV.

In other news, Nana deserves at least, like, a dozen Nobel Prizes for Unfathomable Patience for not throwing me out the window this week. Yet.

Friday, July 27, 2007

Guide to Watching Your Home TV Overseas

(This is a School of ROK Quick Guide--less of a blog post, more of a tutorial. I mean, why should you have to learn the hard way what someone else has already found out? You can find our other guides on our sidebar. Enjoy!)

When you're me--or just about anyone else from Pittsburgh, for that matter--you can't really live without the Steelers for a year. (Or the Penguins. Or the Pirates, if you're the suffering type.) But, while the network NFL coverage overseas is the best anywhere, if you want to watch a given team any given Sunday, most countries will leave you pretty much stuck. Factor in a weakness for House and a wife who can't get enough House and America's Next Top Model, and throwing oneself on the mercy of local TV clearly isn't the right choice. Thankfully, this School of ROK Quick Guide will show you how to watch your TV overseas--without spending nearly as much as you would for foreign satellite TV.

Friends and Family: They're Even More Important Than You Think

The single most important thing you need to watch your TV overseas is a stateside TV hookup owned by people who won't mind letting you mooch. (Though in some cases you may be able to bargain with some mutual moochage--see below.) Preferably, this hookup will be in your teams' local market, or will belong to someone who can actually afford to pay to see all the good games. The hookup can be cable or satellite, and it's best if the moochee has a cable box or satellite box in an out-of-the-way room that doesn't get too much use.

Tivo and SlingBox: A Killer Combo Explained

Step one to overseas TV goodness: buy a Tivo (or another, cheaper, inferior DVR) and a SlingBox, posthaste. The 80-hr Series 2 Tivo will set you back about $280 with a year's service prepaid, and a SlingBox AV, which you'll need for digital cable or satellite, will set you back about $150. (Note: Tivo is much cheaper when ordered directly through Tivo, but SlingBox costs about the same at Best Buy as it does through Sling Media's site.) Which means this little setup will cost a lot more than a year's worth of domestic digital cable, but a lot less than any package that would get you US sports and TV overseas. Especially if you can talk your moochee into splitting the costs of the DVR, or if your moochee already has DVR service on hand.

So this is how this works. Your Tivo enslaves one or two AV devices, usually your cable box and sometimes the TV itself. The Tivo stores the shows you want to watch on its hard drive and does a whole bunch of other really cool things that you can read about in the manual, because that's what it's for. (Hey, I'm not going to do ALL of the work for you.) The SlingBox, then, enslaves one or two AV devices, one of which should be your Tivo, and then streams the signals from those devices over the Internet, via the SlingPlayer software, onto any PC, anywhere in the world. And the SlingPlayer includes a little graphic of the enslaved device's remote, which you can use (albeit awkwardly) to control that device . . . again, from anywhere in the world.

What does this mean? It means that, as you sit in your apartment in Seoul, you can program your Tivo in Pittsburgh to record the Steelers game (2:00 AM kickoff Seoul-time) for you to watch on your laptop Monday after work. (Yes, AFTER work. Don't get any ideas.) You can tell your Tivo to collect episodes of, say, That 70's Show, for your daily postprandial entertainment. (Note: if you're in a time-zone close enough to EST, you can actually cut out the Tivo and just watch your TV real-time, provided no one at home is using the device you enslaved.)

Now, there are downsides, of course. There's a pretty hefty lag when you press a button on the SlingPlayer remote. Some of the resulting headaches can be resolved by programming your Tivo online, but the lag does render pretty much useless the stop-rewind-etc. functions while watching live TV. And the SlingBox will be subject to all the caprices of your moochee's home network, which means you'll want to make sure there's someone stateside at least tech-savvy enough to disconnect and reconnect all your wires. Finally, setup can be a fairly long ordeal, especially if you'll have home-network firewall settings to wrangle. But your reward is a steady stream of sweet, glorious, US TV.


(If you've enjoyed this School of ROK Quick Guide, you can find more on our sidebar or on our homepage at schoolofrok.blogspot.com.)

Holy jeebus we're moving to KOREA.

In five days.

I think it just hit the both of us today.

When that guy showed up and put a good 80% of our worldly goods in his truck and drove off down the hill. To a boat. To KOREA.

Dude.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Quick Guide to Calling Home From Overseas

(This is a School of ROK Quick Guide--less of a blog post, more of a tutorial. I mean, why should you have to learn the hard way what someone else has already found out? You can find our other guides on our sidebar. Enjoy!)

So what if you're living on another continent. That's still no excuse not to call home! This (very brief) guide will help you keep in touch with mom--without busting your budget. All thanks to your friendly neighborhood School of ROK.

VoIP: Why You'd Be Stupid Not To Use (Something Like) Skype


Seriously, Skype is so totally sweet you'll think I was paid to write this. Skype, as you may know, is an international peer-to-peer VoIP (Voice over Internet Protocol) provider, which basically means it turns your broadband-connected computer, wherever you are in the world, into a dirt-cheap phone service. (This article goes into a little more detail on the technology, which is pretty cool--the peer-to-peer aspect is what helps keep the service so cheap.) Calls between Skype members are completely free--think voice chat over AIM. Outgoing calls from anywhere in the world generally cost about $.02-$.03 per minute. The Skype Voicemail add-on ($10/3 mo., $30/12 mo.) provides full voicemail functionality regardless of whether your computer is running, and the SkypeIn add-on ($18/3 mo., $60/12 mo.) buys you a traditional phone number on which you can receive completely free incoming calls.

Now, there IS a disadvantage to Skype and similar VoIP programs (thanks, Greg, for the tip): the lag on a VoIP phone call can be as much as double the lag on a conventional phone. Of course, this isn't noticeable on most domestic calls, but for an intercontinental call, it can be kind of a pain.

But still, the overall handiness of Skype can't be overestimated. Let's say you grew up in Pittsburgh--just hypothetically--and you wanted to give a bunch of friends and relatives there an easy way to keep in touch. With Skype, you could buy a 412-area-code number . . . and all your friends and family could reach you in, say, Korea, for only the cost of a local call.

. . . which is great, if you want to hear from your folks every weekend--and at odd hours, to boot. If not, of course, you're probably best off with an old-fashioned calling card, in which case you'd best pop over to Calling Cards.com. The rates are a bit higher than Skype's, but if you're not planning on calling home often, given Skype's roughly $90-per-year overhead, the savings are probably a wash.

(If you've enjoyed this School of ROK Quick Guide, you can find more on our sidebar or on our schoolofrok.blogspot.com.)