Our school's week-long spring break starts today, and on Monday Nana and I head to Singapore, where we plan to putter around the museums and eat copious amounts of cheap, delicious food.
Since our computers won't be making the trip, however, expect us to be out of touch for a couple days--though you might get a post tomorrow about today's RAS embroidery museum tour!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Happy Hwangap!
In Korea, "hwangap," or the celebration of the 60th birthday, is a very big deal. You may have noticed, courtesy of Chinese restaurant placemats, that there are 12 animals in the Chinese zodiac. What you may not know is that your animal is also associated with one of the five traditional Chinese elements: wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. You are therefore not only born in the year of the tiger, you are born in the year of the fire tiger. (Perhaps this is related in some way to William Blake?)
Your birth sign - be it rooster, pig, or whatever - is repeated every twelve years. But it takes sixty years to get back to the exact sign under which you were born: water rooster, or wood pig. Consequently, at sixty, you have lived through the entire zodiac. When you add this to the fact that in Ye Olden Days, living to sixty was quite the accomplishment, you have all the makings of a need for a major party.
My father turns sixty today - March 19. I am a derelict hwangap celebrating child, having provided neither rice cakes nor grandchildren for the celebration, but I did record my students singing happy birthday:
And here's the Korean version, for good measure (please note that I know the words! I have not learned much here, but I have learned that!)
So happy Hwangap, Dad! May your Earth Ox prosper!
Your birth sign - be it rooster, pig, or whatever - is repeated every twelve years. But it takes sixty years to get back to the exact sign under which you were born: water rooster, or wood pig. Consequently, at sixty, you have lived through the entire zodiac. When you add this to the fact that in Ye Olden Days, living to sixty was quite the accomplishment, you have all the makings of a need for a major party.
My father turns sixty today - March 19. I am a derelict hwangap celebrating child, having provided neither rice cakes nor grandchildren for the celebration, but I did record my students singing happy birthday:
And here's the Korean version, for good measure (please note that I know the words! I have not learned much here, but I have learned that!)
So happy Hwangap, Dad! May your Earth Ox prosper!
Yellow Dust Monitors
We're heading into the height of the yellow dust season here in Seoul, so in the interests of our readers here in Korea, here are two sites you can use to keep track of the dust.
Yongsan Army Base Yellow Sand Monitor: This one's good for its detailed, gradated, color-coded alert levels. (See Nana's previous post here.)
Korea Meteorological Association: It's in Korean, and it doesn't have the detail the Yongsan monitor does, but it does have a forecast model, so you can plan ahead.
For example, here's a screencap of today's report. Looks like we're clear for a day or so!
Yongsan Army Base Yellow Sand Monitor: This one's good for its detailed, gradated, color-coded alert levels. (See Nana's previous post here.)
Korea Meteorological Association: It's in Korean, and it doesn't have the detail the Yongsan monitor does, but it does have a forecast model, so you can plan ahead.
For example, here's a screencap of today's report. Looks like we're clear for a day or so!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Yonsei Severance Redux
Nana, the resident health insurance ninja in our household, arranged for us to get some annual checkups down at Yonsei Severance Hospital's International Clinic yesterday.
Though we've said so on this blog before, it bears repeating: service in the International Clinic at Severance is absolutely superb. They have several English-speaking general practitioners on staff, plus several English-speaking guides and nurses who escort you wherever you need to go outside the clinic (for example, for blood work or x-rays, etc). They also have walk-in hours on Saturday mornings, though be advised that many of the hospital's specialists only see patients during the week.
Apparently, Gangnam Severance has also opened an international clinic, though we can't report on their service first-hand.
Though we've said so on this blog before, it bears repeating: service in the International Clinic at Severance is absolutely superb. They have several English-speaking general practitioners on staff, plus several English-speaking guides and nurses who escort you wherever you need to go outside the clinic (for example, for blood work or x-rays, etc). They also have walk-in hours on Saturday mornings, though be advised that many of the hospital's specialists only see patients during the week.
Apparently, Gangnam Severance has also opened an international clinic, though we can't report on their service first-hand.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
That's the night that the lights went out in Nowon
At 5:32 AM (according to coworker Charlie, who was awake), our apartment building in Seoul lost electricity and water.
Compare/Contrast time!
Initial reaction to power loss, US Midwest: Must be a tree down someplace.
Initial reaction to power loss, Seoul: Did we forget to pay our power bill?
Second reaction to power loss, US Midwest: Never had one, since it was always the trees.
Second reaction to power loss, Seoul: Oh GOD, the WAR started.
I realize that I'm a bit of a fruitcake, but I want to point out that coworker Shelby experienced the EXACT SAME SEQUENCE of power loss reaction. Justin, of course, thinks it's a corporate conspiracy: our landlord fell behind on his bills and the power company cut his service at an inconvenient time for the tenants to put the squeeze on him. As if Kim Jong-Il has nothing to do with this! He's so naive.
For the heart-attacking moms reading this blog, I'm joking, of course. As everything else appears to be running normally, I think we can say that war is no more imminent than it's been for the rest of the time we've been here. My toilet is perhaps less strategically significant to North Korea than it is to me. (Although they eat kimchi, too, so who can say for certain?)
Anyway, it's been weeks since we lost heat or internet... I think it was about time for one of these, don't you?
Compare/Contrast time!
Initial reaction to power loss, US Midwest: Must be a tree down someplace.
Initial reaction to power loss, Seoul: Did we forget to pay our power bill?
Second reaction to power loss, US Midwest: Never had one, since it was always the trees.
Second reaction to power loss, Seoul: Oh GOD, the WAR started.
I realize that I'm a bit of a fruitcake, but I want to point out that coworker Shelby experienced the EXACT SAME SEQUENCE of power loss reaction. Justin, of course, thinks it's a corporate conspiracy: our landlord fell behind on his bills and the power company cut his service at an inconvenient time for the tenants to put the squeeze on him. As if Kim Jong-Il has nothing to do with this! He's so naive.
For the heart-attacking moms reading this blog, I'm joking, of course. As everything else appears to be running normally, I think we can say that war is no more imminent than it's been for the rest of the time we've been here. My toilet is perhaps less strategically significant to North Korea than it is to me. (Although they eat kimchi, too, so who can say for certain?)
Anyway, it's been weeks since we lost heat or internet... I think it was about time for one of these, don't you?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Give me a break, gimme a break . . .
. . . break me off a piece of that KicKer Bar!
Don't know what they did with all that money they saved on brand development . . . they sure as heck didn't spent it on taste.(E-mail subscribers: click through to the blog if you can't see the photos.)
South Korean Education Public Service Announcement
From a recent AP article on President Obama's new education policy:
- Class sizes of 40 to 50 by secondary school.
- No or few writing assignments, because if you teach 50 kids 8 periods a day, you have 400 students by the end of the day and there's no way to grade that meaningfully. (Drowning under a pile of essays on 19th century treaties, I have to keep reminding myself that it's worth it).
- Corporal punishment. I just got a journal entry from a student who described an experience in a Korean school being hit with a stick by a teacher - in elementary school.
Fantastic quotes from the linked article:
- Foreign language teachers, especially English teachers, who don't speak the foreign language, and students who study for six years but can't talk.
- A high teen suicide rate, often connected to school performance
- A burden on parents to supplement school education with after-school academies (hagwons) to the tune of, on average, several thousand dollars a year. And that means some spend far more, often leading to competitive advantages for wealthier families (see above link "Foreign Language Teachers"). In the US media, Korean kids' test scores are entirely due to their public educations. This omits the fact that many of them spend almost as much time in a hagwon as they do at the school. Obama is wrong: Korean kids don't spend an extra month a year in school. By the end of the school year, they've probably spent at least four extra months in hagwons alone. And then they go over vacation - I had a kid who went from 9-5 last summer, a longer day than his academic year schoolday.
- Families who split up across continents to raise their children in non-domestic schools.
Do I think American schools are busted? You bet. Do I think many of Obama's visions are sound, especially teacher merit salary (if it can be well executed?). You definitely bet. Are there many things that are better here, including classroom discipline, a culture supportive of education, and (for many kids!) work ethic? Absolutely.
But man, I am so tired of the American press holding up East Asian test scores in math and science (two things an Asian-style rote-memorization curriculum is well-equipped to teach) and saying, "Wow, I wish we could be just like them!" Take a closer look, please. All systems have pros and cons, and there is a downside to these test scores - enough downsides, in fact, that demand exists here for American-style education at schools like APIS.
Yes, Korean students have a longer school year than Americans. You know what else they have?
Children in South Korea spend a month longer in school every year than do kids in the U.S., where the antiquated school calendar comes from the days when many people farmed and kids were needed in the fields.
...
"If they can do that in South Korea, we can do it right here in the United States of America," Obama said.
- Class sizes of 40 to 50 by secondary school.
- No or few writing assignments, because if you teach 50 kids 8 periods a day, you have 400 students by the end of the day and there's no way to grade that meaningfully. (Drowning under a pile of essays on 19th century treaties, I have to keep reminding myself that it's worth it).
- Corporal punishment. I just got a journal entry from a student who described an experience in a Korean school being hit with a stick by a teacher - in elementary school.
Fantastic quotes from the linked article:
"Necessity" of corporal punishment? And that's the REPORTER talking.According to the report, 74.7 percent of those polled think that teachers should be allowed to beat students on the condition that it is being done only for educational purposes. [Note from Nana: Well! As long as it's an EDUCATIONAL beating!] In contrast, 25.3 percent were against corporal punishment.
In particular, fathers were more supportive of corporal punishment than mothers with 78.9 percent of them in favor of beating students physically. Only 71.6 percent of mothers recognized the necessity of corporal punishment.
- Foreign language teachers, especially English teachers, who don't speak the foreign language, and students who study for six years but can't talk.
- A high teen suicide rate, often connected to school performance
- A burden on parents to supplement school education with after-school academies (hagwons) to the tune of, on average, several thousand dollars a year. And that means some spend far more, often leading to competitive advantages for wealthier families (see above link "Foreign Language Teachers"). In the US media, Korean kids' test scores are entirely due to their public educations. This omits the fact that many of them spend almost as much time in a hagwon as they do at the school. Obama is wrong: Korean kids don't spend an extra month a year in school. By the end of the school year, they've probably spent at least four extra months in hagwons alone. And then they go over vacation - I had a kid who went from 9-5 last summer, a longer day than his academic year schoolday.
- Families who split up across continents to raise their children in non-domestic schools.
Do I think American schools are busted? You bet. Do I think many of Obama's visions are sound, especially teacher merit salary (if it can be well executed?). You definitely bet. Are there many things that are better here, including classroom discipline, a culture supportive of education, and (for many kids!) work ethic? Absolutely.
But man, I am so tired of the American press holding up East Asian test scores in math and science (two things an Asian-style rote-memorization curriculum is well-equipped to teach) and saying, "Wow, I wish we could be just like them!" Take a closer look, please. All systems have pros and cons, and there is a downside to these test scores - enough downsides, in fact, that demand exists here for American-style education at schools like APIS.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
San Nakji: Live Octopus
Found this funny article on a famous Korean delicacy: San nakji, or live octopus. (Warning: gross video.)
Nana and I have forsworn octopus amid all the recent indications that they may actually be intelligent. Though the little guys in San nakji probably aren't, at least it gives us a good excuse to avoid this dish!
Nana and I have forsworn octopus amid all the recent indications that they may actually be intelligent. Though the little guys in San nakji probably aren't, at least it gives us a good excuse to avoid this dish!
Seoul Philharmonic
Last Thursday night, rather than sit at home alone missing Nana (who was in Tokyo, wrangling 8th graders), I accepted an invitation to see the Seoul Philharmonic perform, among other things, Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. Bonus: One of the APIS music teachers is married to one of the orchestra's trumpets, so a handful of us were able to get good seats for free.
Now, I used to be a regular symphony patron back in Pittsburgh and New Haven, but I fell out of the habit during my year in DC (priced out of the market for the good stuff--stupid lobbyists), and most nights here in Seoul, the long trip back from downtown makes every concert a pretty late night. But for free seats at a performance of one of my favorite pieces, I would not be deterred.
On the whole, the concert was very enjoyable. It being a Thursday night, the hall was maybe only two-thirds full, and as is common for Thursday night concerts, the energy level was a bit low. Acoustically, the hall itself was also a bit of a liability--the Sejong Center is home to several opera, dance, and musical theater companies, so even with the sound shell down, a lot of precision was lost in the back corners of that cavernous stage.
The audience, though, ate it up.
As it turns out, the conductor, Sung Myung-hoon, is one of Korea's most beloved sons, the beneficiary of that familiar dynamic in which any Korean who achieves some success abroad instantly becomes a national celebrity at home, regardless of the particulars (see: Hines Ward). Sung Myung-hoon conducts the Paris Opera, and as such the audience Thursday night seemed to have determined, before the first note was sounded, that this was going to be the best concert of their lives. (Best Korean conductor = best conductor in the world = best concert of your life. These folks are very good at math.)
Now, I don't want to sound like some kind of Anton Ego, tearing down great achievements as a way of burnishing my own self-importance. Thursday's performance was very enjoyable, the orchestra played well, the soloist--while a bit of a ham, but aren't most soloists?--executed a very satisfactory Mozart piano concerto. And the Rite of Spring was its good old bombastic self. But the audience applauded the soloist through eight curtain calls and two encores. Then, after the Rite of Spring, there were another eight curtain calls, a standing ovation, and another short encore, to boot. (Don't get me started on this encore--they simply played the last 90 seconds of Rite over again. It doesn't work that way. Stravinsky makes you earn that ending. You can't just go back and play it again! Argh!) Let me say again that this was in no way a disappointing concert--but was it standing-ovation material? I mean, if we give every satisfying concert a standing ovation, what do we do to recognize those truly outstanding performances? Riot?
Anyway. [Steps down from soapbox.] That's about enough out of me!
Now, I used to be a regular symphony patron back in Pittsburgh and New Haven, but I fell out of the habit during my year in DC (priced out of the market for the good stuff--stupid lobbyists), and most nights here in Seoul, the long trip back from downtown makes every concert a pretty late night. But for free seats at a performance of one of my favorite pieces, I would not be deterred.
On the whole, the concert was very enjoyable. It being a Thursday night, the hall was maybe only two-thirds full, and as is common for Thursday night concerts, the energy level was a bit low. Acoustically, the hall itself was also a bit of a liability--the Sejong Center is home to several opera, dance, and musical theater companies, so even with the sound shell down, a lot of precision was lost in the back corners of that cavernous stage.
The audience, though, ate it up.
As it turns out, the conductor, Sung Myung-hoon, is one of Korea's most beloved sons, the beneficiary of that familiar dynamic in which any Korean who achieves some success abroad instantly becomes a national celebrity at home, regardless of the particulars (see: Hines Ward). Sung Myung-hoon conducts the Paris Opera, and as such the audience Thursday night seemed to have determined, before the first note was sounded, that this was going to be the best concert of their lives. (Best Korean conductor = best conductor in the world = best concert of your life. These folks are very good at math.)
Now, I don't want to sound like some kind of Anton Ego, tearing down great achievements as a way of burnishing my own self-importance. Thursday's performance was very enjoyable, the orchestra played well, the soloist--while a bit of a ham, but aren't most soloists?--executed a very satisfactory Mozart piano concerto. And the Rite of Spring was its good old bombastic self. But the audience applauded the soloist through eight curtain calls and two encores. Then, after the Rite of Spring, there were another eight curtain calls, a standing ovation, and another short encore, to boot. (Don't get me started on this encore--they simply played the last 90 seconds of Rite over again. It doesn't work that way. Stravinsky makes you earn that ending. You can't just go back and play it again! Argh!) Let me say again that this was in no way a disappointing concert--but was it standing-ovation material? I mean, if we give every satisfying concert a standing ovation, what do we do to recognize those truly outstanding performances? Riot?
Anyway. [Steps down from soapbox.] That's about enough out of me!
No excuses!
We kind of just fell off the face of the earth for this week, huh? Nana had an excuse--she was chaperoning the 8th grade trip to Tokyo (more on that later)--but for me . . . I got nothin'. Stay tuned for a couple meaty posts this week.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
RAS Tour: Geumsansa ("Gold Mountain Temple")
The second half of last Saturday's tour with the Royal Asiatic Society (previous post on the Jeonju Paper Museum here) took us to Geumsansa, or "Gold Mountain Temple," which was a major spiritual center in the Unified Silla era (7th-10th centuries BC) and is currently a head temple (think cathrdral, you Catholics out there) of Korean Buddhism's traditional Jogye order.
In many ways, Geumsansa is an entirely typical restored Korean temple. The colors, as always, are brilliant and the designs intricate, which always struck me as odd--considering how the Korean Buddhism is so closely related to Zen, I would expect simplicity. Not that I mind too much, since the Korean-style decorations are often pleasantly mesmerizing.
The real gem of Geumsansa, aside from the various "National Treasures," which all pretty much look like interchangeable pieces of eroded stone (I don't really know enough about Silla history and sculpture to understand why they're unique), is the three-story prayer hall, the only one of its kind in Korea. 
Inside, the three towering, gold-plated Buddhas achieve an effect similar to that seen in many Tibetan Buddhist prayer halls, such as that found at Yonghe "Lama" Temple in Beijing. (Previous post) All in all, an impressive effect. Too bad you can't take photos inside!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
RAS Tour: Hansol Paper Museum
Yesterday, Nana and I finally got around to taking our second tour with the Royal Asiatic Society, a local group that books academic lectures and cultural tours for expats here in Seoul. (Details of our previous tour here and here.) This trip took us to Jeonju, which marks the furthest south we've been in Korea yet, to see the Jeonju Paper Museum and the famous Geumsansa ("Gold Mountain Temple").
Now, I imagine nothing sounds more boring to our loyal readers than a museum dedicated entirely to the history and production of paper. And to tell the truth, the museum itself was a little blah, except for a brilliant children's educational hologram which featured a bunch of cute little anthropomorphic trees and a paper nymph looking forward to the violent and painful process by which the trees would be made into "a paper."
However, the museum included a workshop where visitors can make their own hanji, or traditional Korean paper. The museum handles all the first steps: all you have to do is take the mulberry pulp mix and shake it around in a bamboo screen for a few seconds. It's still cool, though, to see that bamboo peeled back to reveal the paper underneath.
Here's a video of me sieving the pulp (and being chastised by an ajeoshi--an alarmingly common occurence here in Korea).
(Thanks for taking the video, Nana!)
Here, a friendly ajumma dries the wet paper--this step has clearly been sped up by modern technology!--then another lays the paper out on a hot metal table that functions kind of like an ironing board.
We got to keep our little samples. Cool!
The workshop also included a station for making prints, which Nana and I did. The video below shows Nana making a sign that reads: "Make a harmonious family by being dutiful to your parents and live as a man of high integrity by giving up your greed."
Yes, it says all that in eight characters. Nana sez: Part of what makes classical Chinese so hard to read!
Here's the finished product:
All in all, the museum is worth a visit if you're living in or traveling through the south--but at almost three hours each way, it's a bit of a hike for a day trip from Seoul. It was fun, though, to take part, in however small a way, in the great tradition of Korean paper art.
Now, I imagine nothing sounds more boring to our loyal readers than a museum dedicated entirely to the history and production of paper. And to tell the truth, the museum itself was a little blah, except for a brilliant children's educational hologram which featured a bunch of cute little anthropomorphic trees and a paper nymph looking forward to the violent and painful process by which the trees would be made into "a paper."
However, the museum included a workshop where visitors can make their own hanji, or traditional Korean paper. The museum handles all the first steps: all you have to do is take the mulberry pulp mix and shake it around in a bamboo screen for a few seconds. It's still cool, though, to see that bamboo peeled back to reveal the paper underneath.
Here's a video of me sieving the pulp (and being chastised by an ajeoshi--an alarmingly common occurence here in Korea).
(Thanks for taking the video, Nana!)
Here, a friendly ajumma dries the wet paper--this step has clearly been sped up by modern technology!--then another lays the paper out on a hot metal table that functions kind of like an ironing board.
We got to keep our little samples. Cool!
The workshop also included a station for making prints, which Nana and I did. The video below shows Nana making a sign that reads: "Make a harmonious family by being dutiful to your parents and live as a man of high integrity by giving up your greed."
Yes, it says all that in eight characters. Nana sez: Part of what makes classical Chinese so hard to read!
Here's the finished product:
All in all, the museum is worth a visit if you're living in or traveling through the south--but at almost three hours each way, it's a bit of a hike for a day trip from Seoul. It was fun, though, to take part, in however small a way, in the great tradition of Korean paper art.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Yipe!
Not really what I wanted to see when I clicked on the Yellow Dust monitoring link:
I guess the question of the day is, what on earth comes after Orange?
Edited to add: Sweet Lord, it's purple. For the record, universe, I was joking!
I guess the question of the day is, what on earth comes after Orange?
Edited to add: Sweet Lord, it's purple. For the record, universe, I was joking!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Pupdate: The Floyd
So far, it's been two steps forward, one step back. The Floyd, the sweet but neurotic little mutt we've been fostering for a few weeks now, is just beginning to understand the whole peeing-outside thing after seeing a neighborhood dog do her business on a bush. Progress is still spotty, though: he pees inside, on or near the pad we put down for him, about 50% of the time; he pees elsewhere inside about 49% of the time; and he's peed outside precisely twice.
Part of the problem, we think, is that he's simply not getting enough exercise, entertainment, and attention during the day. As any teachers out there know, during the school year, you're usually at the school about 10 hours a day, then grading for another hour or so at home--so we're having a lot of trouble getting this little guy what he needs.
With that in mind, we've been looking for another foster home for the Floyd, one with an already-trained dog in residence (both for the company and for the good example) and a parent who can check on him during the day. We've found at least one possibility, so it's looking good.
Still, we're going to miss the little guy. It's easy to look at his behavior now and think we haven't been able to do much for him, but we have to remind ourselves what he was like when we first got him. He no longer cries when you pick him up (for the most part), he walks calmly, his teeth have been cleaned, he's back up to a healthy weight, and he's learned a few basic commands. But I think it's clear we've reached the limit of what we can do for him with the time and energy we have to spare. We can't get him fully adoptable, but we've done our part, and it's time to give him up.
So the Floyd will be moving on to his new home sometime this week. Godspeed, little guy!
Part of the problem, we think, is that he's simply not getting enough exercise, entertainment, and attention during the day. As any teachers out there know, during the school year, you're usually at the school about 10 hours a day, then grading for another hour or so at home--so we're having a lot of trouble getting this little guy what he needs.
With that in mind, we've been looking for another foster home for the Floyd, one with an already-trained dog in residence (both for the company and for the good example) and a parent who can check on him during the day. We've found at least one possibility, so it's looking good.
Still, we're going to miss the little guy. It's easy to look at his behavior now and think we haven't been able to do much for him, but we have to remind ourselves what he was like when we first got him. He no longer cries when you pick him up (for the most part), he walks calmly, his teeth have been cleaned, he's back up to a healthy weight, and he's learned a few basic commands. But I think it's clear we've reached the limit of what we can do for him with the time and energy we have to spare. We can't get him fully adoptable, but we've done our part, and it's time to give him up.
So the Floyd will be moving on to his new home sometime this week. Godspeed, little guy!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Professional trivia
In Korea, a check mark on an answer means that the answer is wrong. Circling an answer means that the answer is correct.
I must have REALLY confused some kids with that.
I must have REALLY confused some kids with that.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
What's OUR "Korean Fan Death?"
Nana and I were discussing the aforementioned phantom menace of Korean fan death at a party last night where one of our company happened to be Korean. She could corroborate the fact that, not only is fan death--sudden death while sleeping, popularly attributed to leaving the fan running through the night--frequently cited as a common cause of death in news reports and government policies, most Koreans, herself included, sincerely believe that it's true.
Now, it would be easy to dismiss this kind of belief as some strange, backward phenomenon presenting in a country still only a generation away from superstitious traditionalism and rampant authoritarian propaganda. However, hearing a young, educated, and otherwise sensible person trying to convince us that fan death is a very real danger to our health got me thinking. Surely there must be some fact we Americans take for granted that, upon the slightest rational observation, is patently absurd? What do you think? To qualify, the belief would have to be held my the vast majority of the population and at least passively supported by the government and the media, so that rules out most topics related to religion, global warming, or evolution.
I know most Europeans would tell us the desirability of the free market is a myth, and recent events show that their worst caricatures of how the market actually works may be closer to reality than we'd like to admit . . . though I still can't shake the belief that, in theory, free markets, regulated to prevent anti-competitive practices, still produce the maximum good for the maximum number of people.
In the UK and parts of the US, the anti-vaccination Autism scare could be a candidate if it picks up more steam. The idea that vaccinations cause autism does get some support in the media, the FDA hasn't forged any clear policy on the matter, and the belief is based on the same fallacy--that if two things happen at the same time or in sequence, it means the first caused the second--that gives us the Korean fan death scare.
So I ask you, loyal readers--are there any other Western myths you can think of that rival the Korean fan death scare?
Now, it would be easy to dismiss this kind of belief as some strange, backward phenomenon presenting in a country still only a generation away from superstitious traditionalism and rampant authoritarian propaganda. However, hearing a young, educated, and otherwise sensible person trying to convince us that fan death is a very real danger to our health got me thinking. Surely there must be some fact we Americans take for granted that, upon the slightest rational observation, is patently absurd? What do you think? To qualify, the belief would have to be held my the vast majority of the population and at least passively supported by the government and the media, so that rules out most topics related to religion, global warming, or evolution.
I know most Europeans would tell us the desirability of the free market is a myth, and recent events show that their worst caricatures of how the market actually works may be closer to reality than we'd like to admit . . . though I still can't shake the belief that, in theory, free markets, regulated to prevent anti-competitive practices, still produce the maximum good for the maximum number of people.
In the UK and parts of the US, the anti-vaccination Autism scare could be a candidate if it picks up more steam. The idea that vaccinations cause autism does get some support in the media, the FDA hasn't forged any clear policy on the matter, and the belief is based on the same fallacy--that if two things happen at the same time or in sequence, it means the first caused the second--that gives us the Korean fan death scare.
So I ask you, loyal readers--are there any other Western myths you can think of that rival the Korean fan death scare?
Friday, February 6, 2009
Korean Fan Death on Snopes.com
Korean fan death appeared this week on Snopes.com, a website devoted to investigating rumors, urban legends, and the like. Check it out here.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The Pittsburgh Steelers: Korea's Team?
Last Monday afternoon (Sunday night for the US time zones), the Pittsburgh Steelers won their record sixth Super Bowl, and among the Steeler faithful there was much rejoicing. Steeler Nation has citizens in nearly every corner of the world: one dedicated fan even made the trip from his US Air Force base outside Seoul to Pittsburgh for the AFC Championship Game a few weeks ago. (Link, about halfway down.)
Of course, Nana and I count ourselves as part of the Steelers diaspora, and had to suffer the indignity of teaching while our beloved team was in the Super Bowl. Doing so was a supremely odd experience. Because I grew up in Pittsburgh, nearly all of the people I love most in the world are Steelers fans. More than anything else I've seen or done since I've been here, stealing occasional glances at score updates while my people suffered all the agonies of watching your team win, then lose, then somehow win a championship game . . . this was the farthest I think I've ever felt from home. It didn't help that both of the games big highlights happened while I was indisposed: I was teaching during James Harrison's 100-yard pick-six at the end of the first half, and in a meeting during the game-winning drive. Then, when the Steelers did finally win, our celebrations were mostly vicarious: reading coverage of the game and the celebration, then watching the game itself (at last!) Monday night.
Little did we know how much of Korea was quietly celebrating with us. Tuesday morning, each of Seoul's major English-language newspapers ran a full-page spread on the Steelers' victory, with Hines Ward's statline prominently displayed. In case you haven't been following the story, Hines Ward is half-Korean, and his elevation to national-hero status in Korea after his Super Bowl XL MVP has helped alleviate some of the discrimination faced by bi-racial Koreans. He can still be found on the occasional billboard here, and he's one of the first things mentioned by Koreans when they find out I'm from the Burgh. My purely anecdotal observations also suggest that the Steelers, because of Hines Ward, sell the most merchandise here in the ROK.
I hadn't realized before this week, however, the degree to which Koreans had adopted the Steelers as their NFL team. While a knee injury kept Hines Ward from contributing much to the Steelers' win, most Koreans I've talked to about the game haven't seemed to care--they were genuinely happy that Ward's team won, and moved by Ward's emotional interview after the game. So, insofar as there are NFL fans in South Korea, the Pittsburgh Steelers seem to be South Korea's team.
Kinda cool, huh?
So, as Nana suggested to me yesterday, let this be a lesson to the Huston Texans and the Jacksonville Jaguars of the world: Make like the NBA's Rockets and sign a Chinese guy. It's a nation of 1.3 billion--there's got to be a football player somewhere in that bunch!
Of course, Nana and I count ourselves as part of the Steelers diaspora, and had to suffer the indignity of teaching while our beloved team was in the Super Bowl. Doing so was a supremely odd experience. Because I grew up in Pittsburgh, nearly all of the people I love most in the world are Steelers fans. More than anything else I've seen or done since I've been here, stealing occasional glances at score updates while my people suffered all the agonies of watching your team win, then lose, then somehow win a championship game . . . this was the farthest I think I've ever felt from home. It didn't help that both of the games big highlights happened while I was indisposed: I was teaching during James Harrison's 100-yard pick-six at the end of the first half, and in a meeting during the game-winning drive. Then, when the Steelers did finally win, our celebrations were mostly vicarious: reading coverage of the game and the celebration, then watching the game itself (at last!) Monday night.
Little did we know how much of Korea was quietly celebrating with us. Tuesday morning, each of Seoul's major English-language newspapers ran a full-page spread on the Steelers' victory, with Hines Ward's statline prominently displayed. In case you haven't been following the story, Hines Ward is half-Korean, and his elevation to national-hero status in Korea after his Super Bowl XL MVP has helped alleviate some of the discrimination faced by bi-racial Koreans. He can still be found on the occasional billboard here, and he's one of the first things mentioned by Koreans when they find out I'm from the Burgh. My purely anecdotal observations also suggest that the Steelers, because of Hines Ward, sell the most merchandise here in the ROK.
I hadn't realized before this week, however, the degree to which Koreans had adopted the Steelers as their NFL team. While a knee injury kept Hines Ward from contributing much to the Steelers' win, most Koreans I've talked to about the game haven't seemed to care--they were genuinely happy that Ward's team won, and moved by Ward's emotional interview after the game. So, insofar as there are NFL fans in South Korea, the Pittsburgh Steelers seem to be South Korea's team.
Kinda cool, huh?
So, as Nana suggested to me yesterday, let this be a lesson to the Huston Texans and the Jacksonville Jaguars of the world: Make like the NBA's Rockets and sign a Chinese guy. It's a nation of 1.3 billion--there's got to be a football player somewhere in that bunch!
Sunday, February 1, 2009
A Trip to the Korean Dentist: Four Wisdom Teeth Enter, Three Wisdom Teeth Leave!
I dragged Justin downtown yesterday for a tooth cleaning and dental overhaul at a Korean dentist recommended to us by our coworker Gina. Dental care in Korea is very affordable, which is good because we don't have dental insurance. And fortunately, this dentist speaks perfect English.
Weird fact #1 about Korean dentistry: when you get your teeth cleaned, they put this little cloth over your face with the same cut-out shape you find on a doorknob hangar to let your mouth and nose peek out. Is it for privacy? I've always felt kind of awkward at the dentist trying to figure out where to look while the hygienist is doing my cleaning (I tend to obsessively analyze how well-groomed their eyebrows are), so having your eyes covered takes care of that question. It might also be to help them with work: when your face is under cloth, they can brace their hands against it and get better pressure on your teeth. A double-edged sword: both Justin and I commented afterwards that the cleaning felt rougher than US-style.
The dentist was terrific, though. I've never had my wisdom teeth out, and one of them came up in my back left. There's really not room for it, and it's been causing me some pain, so the dentist suggested I just have it out. I expected that. What I didn't expect was him saying we could do it then, and not make a later appointment. So I said yes, because I'm afraid of shots (I have had cavities filled without Novocain to avoid the shot) and figured I'd never get myself back down.
And it was so easy! I barely felt the shots, the tooth came right out, and I got my painkillers/antibiotics from the pharmacy downstairs. I spent the rest of the evening wondering when the Novocain would wear off, and then realizing that it already had. Worst moment of the whole thing: they have TV sets over the chairs, and somebody decided that the Anglophone would clearly choose to watch Eddie Murphy's Haunted Mansion movie. That hurt far more than the tooth extraction.
Weird fact #2: I asked him on the way out if I could keep my tooth, and he said yes, but it was illegal. I told him never mind, but ??? Why would it be illegal for me to keep my own tooth? If I'd left the dentist with the tooth in my head, that would be okay, but not if I left with it in my hand? Perhaps there is some sort of black-market trade in whitey teeth. If so, I wonder what it cures? And I'll never know, because I have so many that I won't catch it.
Weird fact #1 about Korean dentistry: when you get your teeth cleaned, they put this little cloth over your face with the same cut-out shape you find on a doorknob hangar to let your mouth and nose peek out. Is it for privacy? I've always felt kind of awkward at the dentist trying to figure out where to look while the hygienist is doing my cleaning (I tend to obsessively analyze how well-groomed their eyebrows are), so having your eyes covered takes care of that question. It might also be to help them with work: when your face is under cloth, they can brace their hands against it and get better pressure on your teeth. A double-edged sword: both Justin and I commented afterwards that the cleaning felt rougher than US-style.
The dentist was terrific, though. I've never had my wisdom teeth out, and one of them came up in my back left. There's really not room for it, and it's been causing me some pain, so the dentist suggested I just have it out. I expected that. What I didn't expect was him saying we could do it then, and not make a later appointment. So I said yes, because I'm afraid of shots (I have had cavities filled without Novocain to avoid the shot) and figured I'd never get myself back down.
And it was so easy! I barely felt the shots, the tooth came right out, and I got my painkillers/antibiotics from the pharmacy downstairs. I spent the rest of the evening wondering when the Novocain would wear off, and then realizing that it already had. Worst moment of the whole thing: they have TV sets over the chairs, and somebody decided that the Anglophone would clearly choose to watch Eddie Murphy's Haunted Mansion movie. That hurt far more than the tooth extraction.
Weird fact #2: I asked him on the way out if I could keep my tooth, and he said yes, but it was illegal. I told him never mind, but ??? Why would it be illegal for me to keep my own tooth? If I'd left the dentist with the tooth in my head, that would be okay, but not if I left with it in my hand? Perhaps there is some sort of black-market trade in whitey teeth. If so, I wonder what it cures? And I'll never know, because I have so many that I won't catch it.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
What the Book: English Bookstore in Seoul
I write this because it amazes me how many people don't know about this place, or how many people underestimate it's awesome powers. If you live in Seoul and read in English--and especially if you're a teacher whose students read in English--What the Book is your lifeline.
What the Book is an oddly-named little bookstore in Itaewon, up the hill around the corner from the Starbucks and the Dunkin Donuts, on the same side of the street as the Foreign Food Mart. It's remarkable for being the only English-language bookstore in Seoul (at least, that I've found) that buys and sells used books. Their brick-and-mortar store is small, but cozy, and the selection of genre fiction is pretty good. You can also find a lot of titles popular among expats in new copies, and there's also a decent young-adult section. On the whole, a nice little store.
To tap into the full power of What the Book, however, you need to visit their website. What the Book operates a massive off-site warehouse, which they keep stocked with regular shipments from the US. The result is that you can order just about any book in print and have it shipped to your door in Seoul (or held at the store for pickup) for no more than the cost of ordering the book from Amazon and shipping it to an address in the States. If it's in the warehouse, you can expect to get it within a week; if they have to order it from the US, it can take anywhere from 4-8 weeks, but they always seem to have at least a few copies of the popular stuff on hand. Several times, What the Book has saved my life by getting us extra copies of class texts on short notice, and they're a great resource to share with students looking for independent reading.
In any case, What the Book is absolutely indispensible for English-language readers here in Seoul. (And you can use the visit as an excuse to eat some tasty Indian food at Taj Palace, across the street!)
What the Book is an oddly-named little bookstore in Itaewon, up the hill around the corner from the Starbucks and the Dunkin Donuts, on the same side of the street as the Foreign Food Mart. It's remarkable for being the only English-language bookstore in Seoul (at least, that I've found) that buys and sells used books. Their brick-and-mortar store is small, but cozy, and the selection of genre fiction is pretty good. You can also find a lot of titles popular among expats in new copies, and there's also a decent young-adult section. On the whole, a nice little store.
To tap into the full power of What the Book, however, you need to visit their website. What the Book operates a massive off-site warehouse, which they keep stocked with regular shipments from the US. The result is that you can order just about any book in print and have it shipped to your door in Seoul (or held at the store for pickup) for no more than the cost of ordering the book from Amazon and shipping it to an address in the States. If it's in the warehouse, you can expect to get it within a week; if they have to order it from the US, it can take anywhere from 4-8 weeks, but they always seem to have at least a few copies of the popular stuff on hand. Several times, What the Book has saved my life by getting us extra copies of class texts on short notice, and they're a great resource to share with students looking for independent reading.
In any case, What the Book is absolutely indispensible for English-language readers here in Seoul. (And you can use the visit as an excuse to eat some tasty Indian food at Taj Palace, across the street!)
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