hectic holiday travel-A MYTH

"Have a safe trip" this saying has always been mildly disturbing to hear before departing on a long journey on an airplane. I have absolutely no control over whether I have a safe trip or not-"have a safe trip" insinuates one may not have a safe trip and it is more frustrating when the power is in the hands of the pilot. Moreover have a safe trip-isn't it assumed? "Hey have an unsafe trip" plain silliness.

Your flight will arrive 5 minutes early?
A fear loomed over me as the weeks led up to the holiday. All of those images we have seen before, disgruntled travelers put out by cancellations, layovers and delays-I was doomed. For the first time ever, I embarked on what was seemingly going to be an epic journey: THANKSGIVING. With a quick stop (20 minutes) in LA before flying to boston, I figured I was destined to spend the holidays alone and stranded. In order to make my flight everything would a) have to be on time and b) I would have to run faster than Uta Pippig in order to get to the terminal in time for check in. So I set out 3 hours in advance in attempts to tackle those absurd lines at check-in. What happened next, hell, what happened for the rest of my travels is nothing but perplexing.

Arriving at SJ airport at 7 for a 9pm flight, I voiced my concern about the short layover time in LA. I might have been the only person ever hoping for a delay. Instead, the kind lady at the ticket counter politely agreed and ever so accommodating said "we will just bump you up to an earlier flight." Thanksgiving-earlier departures than later, I WAS UTTERLY CONFUSED. Where's the hoopla, the chaos and disgruntled folks using odd pieces of clothing and luggage for pillow supplements. I seriously have to wonder where all of these wayward passengers are because I was fortunate to see none. The TV Lies. It's all a conspiracy, a preventative measure to dissuade people from traveling during the hectic holiday season. SCARE TACTICS. There were very few people at the airport and I arrived in Boston 5 minutes ahead of schedule.


Flight attendants & Pilots-how do you do your job?
The logistics of my travels were similar for the rest of my journey back to California. I wish I could say the flights were as comfortable. I developed an odd flying anxiety somewhere in between my two months of extensive traveling in Asia-odd since I flew more in those months than the rest of my life combined. Anyhow, there is nothing that confuses me more than people who are not only cool about flying but take jobs that require it everyday. Take for instance flight attendants-why would you ever want to ride in a GIANT larger than life size object in the sky, at the whim of bad whether and electrical/mechanical malfunctions. I am beyond capable of attempting to wrap my brain around that. At one point the wings of our plane were what seemed to be about 15 degrees short of being perpendicular to the ground. Additionally, the turbulence exhaserbated the tense nature of the moment. And the flight attendants continued reading and serving coffee like we weren't defying a great many things. And although planes are seemingly safer than automobiles or bikes, i still have my reservations.


Black luggage-
I don't check luggage...ever. Well, unless I am moving to a new place. I was convinced that my luggage would be lost, I still don't entirely trust American Airlines. I thought that was the worst thing that could happen. Anyhow, as the luggage carousel started moving I eagerly anticipated my bags. I was cold, tired and ready to head home. But what I quickly realized, is that black rolling suitcases are the worst bag someone can buy. YET EVERYONE DOES IT. Hell nowadays you can't even buy the rainbow strap to define your bag, because others have claimed that already. And so I waited, for a long time, I ripped 2 tags off of other people's bags as I attempted to see if the bags were mine. I felt like an awful human being, those poor souls will have to make assumptions about whether the bad is theirs or not, without a name tag to trust. I suppose it's all of our faults...never go with the classic black rolling bag. Could you imagine a lost black rolling bag? "Ma'am we found your black bag! oh never mind, its someone else's rolling black bag, SORRY."

lies and deceit-San Francisco weather

Coming from an east coast perspective, I feel cheated. That's right-I have always been under the impression that it's always sunny in California. For that matter-it's always relatively warm-boy was I misled. During my first month in California, I wore more jeans and long-sleeve shirts than fall time in New England. And forget sunglasses in San Francisco-it's always cloudy. I place blame on nothing other than Full House. Tell me, when was there ever a rainy day with the tanners? Exactly, there wasn't.

Also-claiming San Jose is the South Bay is a bit of a stretch and by a bit I mean A LOT-I am deep in the valley.
At least it's sunny here.

One might assume the apple store in the Silicon Valley would have superior service, considering Apple HQ is down the road. Unfortunately, it was appalling-the "geniuses" didn't even know how to remove hard drives properly.

Despite my snarky east coast comments, I love it here. There are so many bicycles in my garage, the Queen song bicycle should probably play every time the door opens. People think I am tad bit crazy depending on my bike as my main form of transportation but I'm joining a political, environmental and economical revolution. That's right-get rid of your car and find financial freedom. Check it out-

Odd Things

Maybe I was a bit premature with the change of the blog name. I guess I am eagerly anticipating the big move westward. First, I suppose I should tackle the 600 pg course pack I need to complete by Monday. Cheers to going back to school.

Being back is oddly normal but little things catch me off guard.

I nearly had a heart attack when people were walking around with shoes on in the house.

I couldn't believe the luxurious feeling I had using a full size bath towel. In Korea, the standard size towels are comparable to our hand towels.

Menus in English are nice and I can't believe HOW MUCH TIME PARIS HILTON TAKES UP ON TELEVISION. Great job America.

The food is too much for me. I had anticipated a great culinary adventure. But I found myself only capable of eating one slice of my calzone and then feeling sick to my stomach. All you vegans out there, perhaps you were right when you told me our bodies don't process cheese and dairy as well as we think they do. having been away from it for so long, it does quite a number.

Anyhow, time to cell phone shop and see all the new changes in Hingham. That is see some new stop lights....oh and the new train!

Stateside-I AM

Arrived in San Francisco at 8:30 am. My head is spinning already. It's wild comprehending the English everywhere. For one year of my life, all of the superfluous noise around me was easily blocked out, as I didn't understand anything being said. Now, every announcement and conversation I process by nature. I had a diet coke on the rocks-it was ultra refreshing. I am also amazed at the security measures here in the states. I mean Alex got a gun through security in Seoul-a BB gun, but a gun nonetheless.

Leaving Seoul was quite the adventure. I departed the Jeju Airport saying goodbye to all of my co teachers, host family, host cousins and aunts and friends from Jeju. Alex and I arrived in Seoul, a year worth of luggage in tow. I had never traveled to Seoul with luggage that made me look like a real deal tourist. And, from our experience I am glad for this. It felt a little bit like my times in South East Asia. Taxi drivers pulling us physically by our carts and bags, yelling 40 man wan. I was glad we could argue back with their language. They attempted to ask an absurd amount of money from us, since we looked like tourists. We said "No that's too expensive" in Korean and found the one guy who gave us the real price for such a trip. Following this debacle, it happened once again as we left our hotel room. Throwing all of our luggage into the taxi we set off. Quickly realizing that the meter wasn't on, we let the driver know. He ignored us grumbled in Korean and we continued on our way. We knew it was base fare since it was a hop skip and a jump away from our hotel. But, when we arrived, our driver tried to argue it was 5 dollars. Alex gave him 2 and shut the door as we walked away. It's amazing how much people will try to take advantage of you as a tourist.

Our travels to Seoul made me ready to head back to the states for sure. Our taxi driver got lost and could not find the hotel. Mind you he had a map, IN KOREAN. He attempted to tell us the map was wrong, when in actuality it was his inability to read it properly. KOREA YOU NEED TO START USING ADDRESSES!

Upon arriving at the hotel, where we HAD A RESERVATION, they said no no when I handed them the printed reservation confirmation. They said check in 9pm. You see this was a classy yoegwan. Really nice rooms, even recommended by lonely planet. MINOR DETAIL FAILED TO BE CONVEYED was a late check in time. The reason for the late check in times is due to the hotels attempt to make as much money as possible through the one hour reservations. You have no clue how many couples come in for an hour....jaunt....whatever you want to call it. So in order to check in early we were forced to pay 30 extra dollars. Frustrating to say the least.

Following some last minute shopping and a meet up with Rafiq, we hit up the final dinner for Fulbright. Here I learned I was published in the Fulbright Review-which was pretty exciting. We all said our goodbyes and set out for the evening.

Our plan to stay up all night and rock Seoul proved successful. Unfortunately the second part of this plan, the part where we sleep on the plane at the appropriate time to adjust back to U.S. time zones, did not happen. Our flight was 10 hours and we experienced turbulence for a majority of it. I was also extremely unimpressed by the service of the United Airlines attendants. Korean Airlines has impeccable service with regal, put together, friendly and helpful flight attendants. United Airlines has slovenly, rude women. Its also interesting that in Korea, Flight attendants usually retire from the profession around age 30, whereas in America many are over 30.

BUT I AM Back. The goodbyes were hard. My host family sent me on my way with a goodbye slide show of pictures taken throughout the year. English captions were provided by my host sister. It was an emotional night. I was so fortunate to have had such a kind, welcoming and positive home stay experience.

Now I'm Massachusetts bound. I arrive at 8:30 and have 3 free days before starting grad school classes Thursday. I give myself very little downtime. My body will not be too happy with that decision I am sure.

GOD I LOVE DIET COKE AND SOUP IN BREAD BOWLS.

Apparently the title of this blog no longer prove relevent. Therefore, I will change it to suit my upcoming adventures. NEW NAME: CHAOS IN CALI

abalone: an addendum

This evening I will attend a going away party hosted by the teachers at Ara middle school. I was informed we would be going to a restaurant well known for it's abolone. "Are you kidding me?" I though to myself, "all of my co-teachers KNOW I don't like abalone." Not to mention, abalone 2 times in one week? I understand that it is a delicacy and people want to treat me kindly, but a delicacy isn't worth much if I don't like it. I'd rather a shindig in kimbap heaven. I let my teacher know I was not very fond of abalone once again just in case she forgot, and she said "oh I know you dislike abalone...but maybe the principal and vice principal love it." Apparently there is sushi available as well so I am saved. But honestly, could you try and take into account my food preference on my going away party? It's logical isn't it?

On another note, I said goodbye to the faculty at my school today. I cried. And then they presented me with a lovely tea set. I am so psyched. Now, when I go to insadong I can buy a cool large pot! I can't wait. 2 days left in Korea, I'm packed and ready to get going.

Odd logic?

There's been something that has been frustrating throughout my time here in Korea. It's the lack of agency I posses. For the past year, much of my life has consisted of being taken places where I don't know what is in store until I arrive. As a 23 year old, this is hard to handle. I'm powerless. These two situations that have happened most recently are both funny and illustrative of this thought.


The first day I arrived in Jeju I went to dinner with my co teachers and host family. I was asked what I would like to order and strategically made my decision based off the menu prices. I chose a dish that was $14, considering most appetizers were around $9. My host mother gasped. From that moment on, I have always been very astute to prices of things offered to me. For this reason, I felt extremely uncomfortable when my host mother wanted to buy me designer sun glasses as a going away present. First of all, I do not need nor particularly want designer glasses-I am too clumsy-I would lose them or more likely break them. Furthermore, I can buy them in America. I let her know it was unnecessary. Following our escapades to the luxury mall, I mentioned, in attempts to make conversation, that I would buy presents in the traditional market named insadong in Seoul. My host mothers friend then said in Korean, let's go to a traditional market here and ...Something I couldn't understand......
This idea from what I did understand sounded great. To me I thought "that's right you tell her not to buy me sunglasses but rather something traditional like say...a tea set?"

We set fourth to the "traditional store." When we arrived however, we were at the National History Museum. I thought this was a detour but we marched right up to the museum shop. Now you, me and everyone we know understands that museum shops are overpriced, and sometimes kitschy. Well this was no different. The women shopped around and picked up a bag, that I loved. And said "how about this for your mother?" The price was 150 dollars so that idea was squelched quickly. I realized then, what was actually happening. They were attempting to do my gift shopping for me. I was frustrated because I saw nothing worth purchasing for anyone I knew. The women summoned me over after I had overheared them saying "ooooooh yehpudah" *oh beautiful. My host mother then showed me three hand mirrors with kitschy designs on the back. "How about these for your sisters and mother." I showed discontent, not with the mirror but rather how uncomfortable I was with the idea of them buying my presents for me. I bit my tongue though I really wanted to say "Actually its considered vain and impolite to fawn over yourself all day in a mirror like Korean girls do" clearly I refrained. I said "oh no no". Similar to eating, no means yes here in Korea and they purchased them all-at 10 dollars a pop. It only gets worse from there. They ended up buying out the store of 2 dollar cell phone charms and disregarded my warning that 'cell phone charms aren't popular in America." So 25 cell phone charms later, 3 hand mirrors, a book, 3 packs of postcards, and $90 later, my host mom and her friends were content with their purchases...uh my gifts....for other people. As I looked on dissatisfied with the situation, it was clear I felt uncomfortable and even more so frustrated that they would waste so much money when there were such classy items for similar prices. Not to mention I am an adult. I would like to do my shopping. It was the kindest of gestures, but one that just really made no sense at all.

Anyhow, another example occur ed just this evening.
Around September, my host mother gave me a special porridge-a Jeju delicacy named abalone soup. I committed a memorable faux pas by eating all the porridge and leaving the delicacy at the bottom. OOPS. My host mother recalls this story fondly with friends and it has become a running joke. SO WHY THEN, on my farewell dinner with my host father and his parents, would we go to an ABALONE RESTAURANT!!!! As if these meetings aren't awkward enough with elder family members, you have to take me to a restaurant where you know I don't like the food. We walked into a restaurant that I had been told served chicken soup. Needless to say I was perplexed when everyone was consuming fish. This made no sense, and yes my host family chose the restaurant. The awkward conversation in Korean took place, "oh no she does not like the abalone." My mother made me feel better, oh following this course we will have a chicken soup. This was comforting. But when the soup appeared boiling and brewing, there was abalone filled shells flavoring the broth and cooking away. THIS IS NOT CHICKEN SOUP THIS IS ABALONE CHICKEN SOUP. If I don't like abalone, most likely I don't want chicken with abalone flavoring. But hey it's Korea.

Drive-by Gifting

I walked out of 3rd period ready to run to the airport. My students were so rude and disrespectful even on our last class together. It made me think "where have I gone wrong, what did I do?" I sat down in my seat exhausted, and dreading the remaining two classes. Until Kim Yeong Ho ran into the teachers room. He had a present wrapped. He was out of breath. In a very un-korean gift giving way, he threw the gift in my lap and said I am so sad you will leave gotta go bye. He sheepishly ran out of the teacher's room, his friends laughing and not giving me enough time to even say a decent thank you. I opened the card and it said the following:

Dear Lauryn,
Hi! What's up?
I'm writing this letter on my valuable book and I'll rend is and send you. (translation I have no clue)
You'll read this in school, in airport, or in U.S.A.
If you read this in school I'm shameful and I'm die.
Oh I'm kidding. Some time ago you asked me that I have study only Jeju. Do you remember?
Yes, I study english in Jeju, but I have study five years myself and one year to go language school.

You'll read this letter and keep this letter please. Because I don't want to be forgotten. Please you remember me AHHH. My address****
Please write a letter every 3,00000 years oh it's kidding

I'll give you this letter and suprise present tuesday or friday. Don't cry when you get this present

Goodbye

ON THE BACK IT READS

Lauryn! I have a question.
I like Jeong Jin Yeong 2-9
I tell her that I like her
But she doesnt answer me
how I do in this situation?
Please write back answer this question.
And when you do go back?
You doesn't go back or does back (translation will you come back to Korea)

Really goodbye
Your student kim yeong ho


Clearly I cried. It always seems that the bad students outweigh the good. That their awful behavior trumps the wonderful, caring, and funny students. This was just one of the amazingly kind gestures students have showed me this year. I have to make an active effort to remember the good.

Kim yeong ho gave me two notebooks. One had panda's and the other robots-a dream come true. I am thrilled.

Final Lessons and Goodbyes

I occasionally feel bad when I hear of other ETA teachers hosting large scale parties on their last few days of school. But I must admit, hosting parties with 40 students throughout a day is more tiring than you think-and I will say more tiring than teaching. The clean up always falls on the teacher, and the noise level is bound to give anyone a migraine. I learned this the hard way when I held the Black and White party following our completion of the Giver with my 20 students in the states. More than that, I don't want to organize large scale celebration for my departure because to many of my students, I am not sure that it matters.

What I chose to do instead is teach a lesson on diversity as some of my parting words of advice. After learning the proverb "don't judge a book by it's cover," my students play a game where they guess the personalities, jobs, and success of an individual based on one picture. This has proved one of my most interesting lessons thus far.

Here are some of the comments I have received thus far:

Spike Lee
Job:Terrorist, homeless man, rapper, b-boy, criminal, teacher, actor, osama bin laden's son.
He is not kind because he is dirty and ugly.
He is poor and unsuccessful.
A few of my female students on the other hand, thought he was smart because he wore glasses.

On the contrary to Spike Lee Martha Stewart got rave reviews.

Martha Stewart:
Very kind, loving, good person, pretty, rich, nice, Paris Hilton?

When I informed the students that she actually spent time in Jail they sighed and said OHHH NOOOOOOOO SO KIND WHY TEACHER?!?! They were distraught about Martha going to jail, but were assured that Spike Lee was a terrorist.

Margaret Cho was by far one of the more interesting scenarios.
I have a friend back in the states who frequently wore a shirt that read "Chinese Japanese Korean: What's the Difference"-a provocative way to address issues of stereotyping Asians in the United States. What I found interesting here, is that my Korean students, having seen a picture of Margaret in a glitzy dress and sassy look on her face, unanimously said she was EVERYTHING BUT Korean. I heard Japanese, Chinese and Filipino and as to why they said those, they argued it was her face. They told me stories about how she was unsuccessful because she was too sexy and were all flabbergasted when they came to the realization that she was in fact Korean American.

A final picture worth noting was of a Korean American college grad, working at a prestigious cancer research center. My students noted his outfit, appearance and alcohol in hand as the reasons he was unsuccessful. Strangely enough, in order to have a successful career in Korea (that's a mouthful), men are required to drink heavily and frequently. Having my students note that the alcohol lead to his lack of success in life, trumped what is commonplace amongst successful Korean men. Once it was made clear he was quite successful, my students found a new found attraction to the guy. All of a sudden handsome boy, my boyfriend, oh sexy. Funny how a job can alter the perspective of someone.

This lesson made me intrigued by dominant stereotypes on race, gender and image of others. But, I leave in 3 days,and so nothing research based can come out of such a thing. Hopefully I was able to get an important point across, to help work against such stereotyping in the future.

Chaotic Closings

My time in Korea has come to an end. 4 boxes were shipped back to the states last week and I have already attended the first of a few going away parties. It’s approximately ONE WEEK and counting until I arrive back in the states. It's been quite the time, but now, I am tired, and ready for new adventures. Deep down though, I know I will miss so much of what has become another home. I think back to the days when we would call "Not me" for the role of directing taxi drivers to Emart. The days when we couldn’t decipher bleach or detergent at the market. Or the times walking into restaurants, glaring at the menu and not knowing if were would get octopus or pork cutlet. When manisopankapsumneda (nice to meet you) seemed impossible and couples tees were still a novelty. Ok who am I kidding couples tees WILL ALWAYS be a novelty. A country that seemed so incomprehensible, I now navigate with ease. And I find myself laughing for not always understanding simple things...and I frequently reflect on the cultural faux pas I committed in my early days.

Recounting the amazing memories with my comrades and life long friends, it is hard to explain just what happened while we were here. Though I have tried to recount the amazing, frustrating, absurd, laughable, sad stressful and fulfilling times through my blog, I know that this will always be an experience only a few people truly understand.

Its odd how things come full circle. These days I find myself asking the exact same questions I did before departing for Korea one year ago. "What am I getting myself into?" "Am I going to make lasting friendships?" "Why am I moving across the [this time country not world]?" "How will distance affect the strong relationships I have built?" The exciting thing about my next steps is I have built the confidence that I know I can make it anywhere; something I suddenly questioned prior to departing for Korea.

Though I would never give up the experience I have had here, I am ready to get home. It is the first trying time I have had working with students. It tested my interest and ability to work in the field of education for which I did persevere. My faith in the United States school system has been restored. Though there is a great deal of work to be done, I still think developing well-rounded students with exposure to a variety of topics trumps rankings on international tests.

I can't say I have much faith in the language skills I imparted to my students, but hopefully if nothing else-they built the confidence they need in order to be more successful language learners. I learned so much about myself, saw the good and the bad in a way I had not in college or before. I saw the strong relationships I built with friends back in the states withstand distance. And even connected with my younger sister (who is growing up so fast) in a way I hadn't prior to leaving. Here, I was blessed with an amazing host family. Where some of my friends wonder whether they will have to arrange their own transportation to the airport, I know my host family and extended family will be there to see me off.

The next week is filled with goodbye dinners, goodbye taebo classes and packing. This evening I am off to Birthday parties and going away parties in city hall-more like a going away pub-crawl.

There were ups and downs, and now its hard because as much as I want to embrace the next week and soak up all the Korean I can get, I am so eager to get home-it's just challenging. But I know when I get back to the states I will crave Korean and then gasp at the absurd prices-bibimbab should never be more than 4-5 dollars and certainly never 10$. Beer should never cost 5 dollars a glass, rather 5 dollars a pitcher and tipping should be ABOLISHED.

Game Culture

Back in the days when I worked at Rivers Day Camp, my co workers and I used to marvel at the sight that took place at Chuck E. Cheese. It was like gambling for beginners...underage beginners that is. Token after token wasted in attempts to hit the jackpot and win all of the tickets in a neon colored, child friendly version of Russian roulette. Needless to say, it was a hard contest if one were to determine who was more into the games, the campers....or counselors.

An entirely new spin on game culture exists here in Asia We have all heard of the infamous PC bang culture and the obsession with war craft and other computer games of that sort. But this is a more back to basics of culture. Now, most American children by the age of 11 know that crane games rarely prove fruitful and the odds are against them. And, more importantly, for the most part crane games are a thing of the past; dated if you will, to the 90's and before. Especially since the onset of skeptical children crawling into the crane games in order to get their reward through alternate methods, these games are disappearing at a fast rate.

In Asia however, contrary to American culture, a booming industry exists based solely off of crane games. What's more interesting, you don't find them at the local pizza hut or Kmart, but rather the streets lined with beer halls and dance clubs. That's right in Asia crane games are catering to an entirely new demographic. The drunkards. On the streets of Korea one can go at it for hours attempting to buy kitchy lighters and stuffed bears. I would argue from seeing it first hand, Korean boys win their girlfriends over with strong skills in this area. But Taipei, Taipei does it in style. The gaming halls of Taipei are entire rooms filled with crane games. It is like Vegas with a hello kitty theme. And the prizes are not merely stuffed teddy bears, but rather DVD players, computers and mp3 players. Alex is fully immersed in this culture and I am now regretting the fact that I ever supported his addiction with 50 100 beck wan coins. Though he did win me gorilla with a sweatshirt that said Korea on it-if only the sweatshirt fit me, it is so hip.

Korean High School Class Reunions

Awoke Sunday morning and set off to accompany Alex to a volleyball game his host mother was playing in...or so we thought. We hopped on Rafiq's moped which he so graciously let us borrow for the weekend and mobilized. I am getting much more comfortable on the moped might I add. No longer do I try to overcompensate for weight distribution while taking turns by leaning in the opposite direction of the turn. I even carried a cake while riding on the back. I felt like I was an authentic Korean women-well I just needed four children, one on my shoulders and a few dangling off both of my legs. I even had a try at the side saddle riding style.

We didn't really know what to expect. Language barriers leave lots to be interpreted. Anyhow we turned into the gymnasium parking lot and couldn't believe how many people were at this event. We walked into the gym and I felt like I had stumbled across the Smith College reunion weekend Korean style. Groups of women dawning red, blue, yellow and green scarves sit together chatting and eating. What we quickly realized is that although we were under the impression we were going to a vollyball game, we had actually arrived at, was the Seogwipo Girls High School alumnae reunion. We saw co teachers, neighbors,and friend's co-teachers. It was like we had stumbled upon fresh ground for fertile for sociological observation; Aguma culture and female relationships. They played sports-an absurd sight to see, especially the three legged race which eventually turned into a 15 legged race that looked like an awkward chorus line dance. They sang and danced and cheered. Current seogwipo students even performed a parade. The affinity women find for one other through the experience of single sex education was apparent from this event. It reminded me of the close connections and class camaraderie the alums from Smith develop which I have been privileged to see during reunion week in the past years.

We ended up going to dinner with the green team. Alex's host mother and her two best friends invited themselves to America for our wedding. No I didn't know I was getting married. Awkward to say the least.

In other news, Korea is set to play Iraq in soccer on June 29th. How can I miss a game like this? Because I am going home.

Irony Abounds

I browsed the clothing stores of Seogwipo and stumbled across quite the find. A tee shirt that said "stop anorexia." It was an interesting political statement to put on clothing. I picked it up and unfolded it to get a closer look only to find that it was so tiny you'd be hard pressed to find a girl who would fit in it comfortably. How ironic-a tee shirt trying to put a stop to eating disorders that was too small for an anorexic girl.

Made me think of the new Killing Us Softly 3 by Jean Kilbourne.

reflections on Korean Tourism and Yoegwan tour y2k7 an addendum

Korea is a country striving to parallel the tourist industry of its fellow Asian countries such as Japan and China. However as a westerner I see some flawed logic in this attempt. First take Jungmun beach here on Jeju island. Jungmun resort complex is gorgeous and they wish to attract foreign tourists. However most travelers want to swim when they go to the beach. Unfortunately here in Korea, swimming is not done frequently and beach swimming is considered very dangerous. Thus tourists are turned away from frolicking in the ocean and required to stand only knee deep. The unwillingness to compromise will forever hold Korea back from achieving their goals.

Another issue I see is the language issue. Even in Seoul, many people in the service industry do not speak English. I have little Korean under my belt, but I have been able to get by thus far. However one day, as I attempted to go to the train station, heavy pack in tow-I was unable to communicate with my driver in Korean or English. One might think KTX (name of train) and "i am going to Taegu Seoul station please" (in Korean) would be sufficient. But I could not convey this effectively in either language and was left on the side of the road looking for another taxi. Now I am fortunate to have had some Korean, but there are going to be people who lack that luxury and still need transportation. having just traveled to Taipei as well as other parts of Asia, I must admit they far surpass Korea in the ability to help travelers.

Perhaps most interestingly though was what occurred when we arrived back in Korea from Taipei. Having an extremely early morning flight back to the island, we needed an affordable place to stay near the airport, preferably with car service. We consulted the information desk and she directed us to the Sky Grand. It came highly recommended by the airport. We were picked up by an old man in a dodgy old car and taken 15 minutes outside the area. When we turned the corner towards our hotel, a street of love motels glimmered with flashing neon signs. The car entered the covered garage, mind you other vehicles are in the garage. Wooden panels with Sky motel written on are placed to strategically cover license plates. We paid for our room, and walked past the frosted window with images of topless Victorian women carved into them. What really got me was the fact that the GIMPO international airport actually highly recommended a motel with rooms that had a black light, and a coin operated vibrating bed. Many travelers aren't looking for kink, but rather a place to relax. Anyhow, amidst our travels, its ironic that the most absurd place we found wasn't stumbled across down back Allys, but highly recommended by the international airport. Sometimes I just don't get Korea.

Jobless no more

I am excited to say I will return to the states with a job secured. Skype really paid off while I was abroad-so many midnight phone-calls with a variety of potential employers. I suppose so did the countless hours spent in the gymoshel (teachers room); ample time to perfect my resume. Even so, with that said I am sure there are more cover letters out there with grammatical errors than I care to think of. Ooops.

Anyhow, people always say things will fall into place when they are meant to and it seems just about right. The job search is not an easy one, especially when attempting to do it from abroad. But come July 5th I am employed. I will be paid very little and I will live in the most expensive part of the country-Bay area Cali. But, I will be doing something I love. So, I am embarking on a two year fellowship program called The National Teaching fellowship. Check it out www.citizenschools.org . Here, I will get to do curriculum development and implementation, work as a liason between non profits and a specific school, work one-on-one with middle schoolers and pursue a masters! It's a two year gig. This is both comforting in a sense that I have a plan, and yet terrifying for the same exact reason. Nonetheless having a masters in 09 is quite exciting. So is the idea of having full benefits and a retirement plan! This is exactly what I envisioned for myself as an educator so things are looking good.

I got one month left. I arrive in Boston on the 1st. I can't wait to have another rousing 4th of July on the Charles. Then, following a month long intensive summer session, it's off to California. Even though I am a New England girl, everyone says California is for me. I am utterly ecstatic.

Taiwanese times

I begin my journey back to the states exactly one month from today. Prior to departing, I needed one last international Asian adventure. Thus, we set off to Taiwan in search of good food, culture and lesport bags! What I found was so much more than that; a Volvo culture that made me cry tears of happiness and sadness both at the same time. It seemed every corner I turned, my old Volvo 850 glt was waiting. And yet when I return to the states, I return to a reality that I sold my car and will never experience the wind blowing through my hair from the sun roof and bomb speaker system as I cruise through the streets of Northampton. What will I do?

Things were off to a rough start. We arrived at Incheon airport with expectations of finding some affordable accommodations prior to our early morning departure. What we found was nothing of the sort; a yoegwan with racked up prices. What we spent there we made up for with our 10 dollar a night hostel in Taiwan. Lonely planet didn't lie, you get what you pay for. But, it catered to our hobo tendencies and despite the excessive heat, we grew quite fond of our little hole in the wall.

Now I don't know about you, but I rarely brief myself on the latest TSA regulations. Though I had heard rumblings of no bottled water on flights to America, we were unaware that this had became an international phenomenon. Needless to say I was frustrated when I was forced to sip my orange juice in front of the security check, thus leaving my McDonald's hash brown lonely and myself without hydration. Now tell me this, what is the point of such a regulation? If I am willing and able to drink said liquid in front of security, could it possibly be a threat to others? Also, i was forced to bag my creams in zip locks. Now, what will that zip lock bag do to protect people? And what are the consequences if i take the substances out of the bag? We contemplated taking the regulated zip locks and strategically placing them, emptied of all contents, at gates around the airport. We wondered if immediately, planes would be grounded? And if in turn, a search for more terrorists in the middle east would take place? Not two college grads traveling in Asia though.

So after some solid card games, we arrived safely in Taipei. The heat was oppressive. But the city was exciting. I was impressed by an aspect of their urban planning that incorporated so much green in the city itself. Boulevards had sweeping green trees and parks were everywhere. I was also amazed at the general populations' English fluency. From the guy at the corner store, to people on buses and trains, it seemed everyone was more well versed in the language then in Korea.

Our first stop was Taipei 101-Aside from it being the tallest building in the world, it is also home to the Guinness book of world records fastest elevator. It is also recognized for an absolutely outstanding food court. And the best market ever-Jasons Market. Let's just say this, every food I have craved for a year existed all in one place. It was like the mother of all Whole Foods. I limited myself to some sharp Cheddar cheese.

Our intentions for going to Taipei 101 first, was to get a general lay out of the city. This worked very well in some respects. However, standing 90 stories over a large city, things appear a lot closer than they really are. We ended up wandering aimlessly around the city without reaching our intended destinations. Still great nonetheless-other than the fact that we had to stop in 7-11's along the way, pretend to buy something and move on-just to cool down.
The transportation was amazing and the night markets, oh the night markets. We went to a different night market every day and the flower jade market on Sunday. Shida night market was outstanding. Every corner was a new store. Alex was very patient with my desires to find beautiful things. And he even picked up two amazing shirts. The jade market was bittersweet. I was so amazed and in awe of everything I saw and struggled with the realities that I couldn't have most of it.

The museums, the people, food and environment was all amazing. From the store owner we met in Danshui, to the fun malaysian and chinese girls visiting from london at the bar, we didn't want to leave Taiwan.

Though I am still right about the airport, it smells like 1974.

One Year Ago

One year ago today, I departed my beloved Smith College. Hesitantly, I moved on with new ambitions to pursue worldly adventures. Alas, I find myself in the last month of my Fulbright here in Korea. I struggle daily with a language of which I still know very little, send out countless resumes, push on through days that seem never ending, deal with students who just don't care and wonder what things will be like when I arrive back in the states. Amidst all of this, I have learned a great deal about myself-and realize how quickly a year goes by. I arrive back in the United States, Boston to be specific- on July 1st 2007 at 8:24 pm. Not sure yet, whether I want a buffalo chicken calzone, sub, or a hearty cheeseburger or sandwich. More of a concern is whether i will be able to consume such delectable treats after consuming so much kimchi and rice. I will try nevertheless.

Below is Gloria Steinem's'56 commencement speech for the Smith Class of 2007. Her words were not merely a glorification of her successful career like many speakers of the past, but rather a rallying call for movement in a country that seems to be constantly backtracking. I sat in my office, holding back tears*, moved and inspired and most importantly proud of the institution I had the privilege of attending. Enjoy.




metaphorically of course-we all know I actually can't produce tears :-(
May 20, 2007
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Commencement address to the Class of 2007
by Gloria Steinem '56
Feminist leader and Smith alumna Gloria Steinem took the stage to a standing ovation from the audience at the commencement ceremony for the Class of 2007 on May 20 inside the Indoor Track and Tennis (ITT) facility.

To Carol Christ who leads Smith College (and does the most amazing introductions); to the faculty who create its purpose and the staff who give it daily life; to the honorary degree recipients in whose presence I am so very proud to be; to all the families and friends and partners and children who have sustained today's graduates -- especially those of you who have performed the miracle of guiding children through an experience you could not have -- and most of all, to you, the beloved, brave, tired and now headed-for-the-world graduates of the Class of 2007:

The first generation of Facebook and YouTube Smithies; the class to shape and survive the most changes in the way Smith lives; the second class of the Iraq War, and the most diverse class in the history of Smith College, from Adas -- who made sure that Class (economic class) Is Never Dismissed, and to all those who help Smith College look more like the world:

I thank you for including me in your historic day.

It's historic for me, too, because I was sitting where you sit today exactly fifty-one years ago.

I wasn't sure I should bring up this half-century fact. For one thing, I feel connected to you, not distant. For another, I feared you might go into as much age-shock as I did when I woke up after my seventieth birthday, and thought, “There's a 70-year-old woman in my bed! How did this happen?!”

But then I realized that fearing separation by age was probably more my generation's problem than yours. If I conjure up my own graduation day, for instance, even life after thirty seemed a hazy screen to be filled in by the needs of others – and there were not yet even Adas to show us that life and growth continue. In our age ghetto, we pretty much accepted the idea that women were more valued for giving birth to others than for giving birth to ourselves.

Yes, many of us had professions, but they were secondary. As one of my classmates said in the light of later feminism, “I didn't have a job, I had a jobette.” We weren’t trying to change the world to fit women -- and neither was Smith in those days -- we were trying to change ourselves to fit the world.

If this seems hard to believe now, think of my two most famous age peers: Marilyn Monroe, who literally feared aging more than death, and Smith’s own Sylvia Plath, whose own world-class talent couldn't give her the autonomy she needed to survive.

Now, thanks to decades of feminist rebellion, your generation is much more likely to value minds and hearts and talents that last just as long as you do. You not only have a somewhat longer life expectancy physically, but faith in a much longer life of your own making. Fortunately for me, this also means you are better able to identify with other women across boundaries of age.

For instance: My generation of young women said things like, “I'm not going to be anything like my mother.” After all, if we didn't blame our mothers for living vicarious lives, we would have to admit that we might have to do the same. Even now, my generation - and probably some of yours, too - are living out the unlived lives of our mothers.

This is honorable and rewarding and loving, but it isn’t the same thing -- for either mother or daughter -- as living our own unique lives.

Now, I meet many young women who say something like, “I hope I can have as interesting a life as my mother.” Not the same life, but as interesting. And when I hear this, it brings tears to my eyes -- because I know there is not only love between generations, as there always has been, but now there is respect, learning, a sense of balance, even an invitation to adventure.

So instead of worrying about the decades between us, I thought I would use them as a measure of the future by projecting a similar time into the future. Like the swing of a compass arm, I invite you to measure the progress made in the time between my graduating class and yours, and project into the future same distance.

What might the world be like when you are come back to visit the class of 2057?

I'm not suggesting we know what will happen, but I am suggesting that imagination is a form of planning.

So let’s take a concrete example: In my generation, we were asked by the Smith vocational office how many words we could type a minute; a question that was never asked of then all-male students at Harvard or Princeton. Female-only typing was rationalized by supposedly greater female verbal skills, attention to detail, smaller fingers, goodess knows what, but the public imagination just didn't include male typists, certainly not Ivy League-educated ones.

Now, computers have come along, and “typing” is “keyboarding.” Suddenly, voila! - men can type! Gives you faith in men's ability to change, doesn't it?

So maybe by 2057, occupational segregation -- an even greater cause of wage disparity than unequal pay, may have changed enough so there will be male nurses and female surgeons. Then male medics won’t come home from the military to be shamed out of nursing jobs, and nursing will be better paid for no longer being a pink collar ghetto.

Or perhaps parking lot attendants will no longer be paid more than childcare attendants -- as is now the case not because we value our cars more than our children but because the first are almost totally male and the second are almost totally female.

And most of all, maybe the vast unpaid area of care giving – whether that means raising children or caring for the ill and elderly: about 30% of the productive work in this country and more than half in many countries – maybe this huge and vital area of work will at last have an attributed economic value, whether it is done by women or men.

This is already a feminist proposal for tax policy. It would mean the attributed value of care giving would become tax deductible for those who pay taxes, and tax refundable for those who are too poor to pay taxes, thus substituting for the disaster of welfare. It would be a huge advance. We would at last be valuing all productive work, including that mysteriously defined as not-work: as in homemakers who “don’t work,” even though they work longer and harder than any other class of worker. (Not to mention with more likelihood of getting replaced by a younger worker.)

Take something deeper: My generation identified emotionally with every other vulnerable group, but without understanding why. Fifty years later, we understand why: females are an “out” group, too -- no wonder we identified. Now there are local, national and global liberation movements based on sex, race, ethnicity, sexuality and class. We know in these movements we are each others' allies, if only because our adversaries are all the same.

Perhaps fifty years from now the public imagination will finally understand this as one inseparable movement. The same hierarchy that controls women's bodies as the means of reproduction – which is how we women got into this jam in the first place -- and says that sexuality is only moral when it is directed toward reproduction within patriarchal marriage - also controls reproduction in order to maintain racial difference and to preserve a racist caste system. We will understand that it's impossible to be a feminist without also being an anti-racist - and vice versa. Not only because women are en every gruop in the wrold but because racial caste and sexual caste are inseparable.

We will also understand that the same folks who are against contraception and abortion and even the sex education that helps avoid abortion – anything that allows the separation of sexuality from reproduction – are also against sexual expression between two women or between two men. They deny the reality that human sexuality has always been a form of communication and pleasure, not just a way we reproduce. (And I do mean always. The Native women who lived on this very land long before Europeans showed up had two or three children two or three years apart. They absolutely understood contraception, which is not just some modern gift from the pharmaceutical industry.)

No wonder anti-equality, racist and anti-gay forces are all the same, just as they were in, say, Germany under fascism, or in theocracies and totalitarian regimes now. Perhaps fifty years from now, most people will understand that reproductive and sexual freedom – and democratic families, democracy within families – are as necessary to democracy as is the vote and freedom of speech.

Or take another area very close to home. My generation often accepted the idea that the private/public roles of women and men were “natural.” Your generation has made giant strides into public life, but often still says: How can I combine career and family?

I say to you from the bottom of my heart that when you ask that question you are setting your sights way too low. First of all, there can be no answer until men are asking the same question. Second, every other modern democracy in the world is way, way ahead of this country in providing a national system of childcare, and job patterns adapted to the needs of parents, both men and women.

So don’t get guilty. Get mad. Get active. If this is a problem that affects millions of unique women, then the only answer is to organize.

I know it may be hard for women to believe that men can be loving and nurturing of small children – just as it may be hard for men to believe that women can be expert and achieving in public life as they have. If you’ve never seen a deer, it’s hard to see a deer. If I hadn’t happened to have a father who raised me in as a small child as much as my mother did, I might not believe it either. But raising young children – or being raised to raise children – is the way men are most likely to develop their own full circle of human qualities, and stop reproducing the prison of the “masculine” role. Just as our role in the public life frees us of the prison of the "feminine" role.

For that matter, our kids do what they see, not what they’re told. If children don’t see whole people, they’re much less likely to become whole people – at least, not without a lot of hard work in later life.

Which leads us into the big question of violence. Gender roles provide the slippery slope to the normalization of control and violence in all their forms, from sexualized violence to military violence – which is the distance from A. to B. Until the family paradigm of human relationships is about cooperation and not domination or hierarchy, we’re unlikely to imagine cooperation as normal or even possible in public life.

We must change this paradigm for it is just too dangerous in this era of weapons -- especially as it collides with a religions that extol Doomsday.

It’s already too dangerous in this era when there are more slaves in proportion to the world’s population – more people held by force or coercion without benefit from their work – more now than there were in the 1800s. Sex trafficking, labor trafficking, children and adults forced into armies: they all add up to a global human-trafficking industry that is more profitable than the arms trade, and second only to the drug trade. The big difference now from the 1800s is that the United Nations estimates that 80% of those who are enslaved are women and children.

Yes, all this will take much longer than our projected fifty years to transform. The wisdom of original cultures tells us that it takes four generations to heal one violent act. But it’s also true that, if we were to raise even one generation of children without violence and without shaming, we have no idea what might be possible.

It won’t be easy to hang on to this vision of possibilities in ourselves and in others if we are alone in a world that’s organized a different way. We are communal creatures. So make sure you’re not alone after you leave this community at Smith. Make sure you meet with a few friends once a week or once a month; people you can share experiences and hopes with – and vice versa. Women may need this even more than other marginalized groups because, after all, we will never have our own country (good thing -- it makes us anti-nationalistic), we don’t have a neighborhood; most of us don’t even have a bar.

So, if I had one wish for women worldwide, it would be a kind of global version of Alcoholics Anonymous: a network of women’s groups – also welcoming to men who have the same radical vision. These leaderless and free groups would exist in cities and villages, in school basements and around rural wells. They could spread like lace over the globe and their purpose will be to support self-authority. After all, democracy can’t exist without the help of half of the world's population.

While we’re at it over the next fifty years, remember that the end doesn’t justify the means, the means ARE the ends. If we want joy and music and friendship and laughter at the end of our revolution, we must joy and music and friendship and laughter along the way. Emma Goldman had the right idea about dancing at the revolution.

So, my beloved comrades, yes this is the longest of all revolutions and that will mean a lot of struggle, a lot of organizing together and a lot of unity, but that also means a lot of dancing.

For now, just measure the distance from my graduation to yours – from my class with only one student of color to your diverse class; from my era of no women’s history to yours that has been strengthened by women’s history. You can match or surpass that distance that we have covered.

Now, it's true that I have every intention of living to be 100. But even I, hope-oholic that I am, know when you return to celebrate your victories and inspire the class of 2057, I won’t be with you.

But then again: I will.

RHYTHM

Rhythm Has You Thinking Hard Man-is an easy way to remember the spelling of the word rhythm. And to be honest, there's some truth to the statement. No matter how musically inclined you are, rhythm is of the utmost importance when it comes to musicality and a challenge to many performers. You always have to be cognizant about it. That's why at concerts, I think there should be an added disclaimer. You know the part before a show begins and notices such as "please turn off all cell phones" or "the use of flash photography is prohibited during the performance" are announced? The following disclaimer should, and NEEDS to be inserted: "NO AUDIENCE CLAP PARTICIPATION AS IT DISTRACTS THE PERFORMERS."

I went to a symphony performance this evening and was so impressed by the ability of the musicians to stay on rhythm despite the heinous off-beat clapping patterns of the audience.

Some Situational Irony Get's Ya Through the Day

As I moseyed down the streets of seogwipo, a van load of children caught my attention- or should I say the name of the center that owned the van caught my attention.

"The Ebenezer Child Center."

Memories of Dicken's "A Christmas Carol" were rendered almost instantaneously. And I thought to myself, what parent would ever send their children to this child center.


While I write this I am watching a women across the coffee shop take part in a one woman photo shoot. Just her, a cell phone camera, and about a dozen onlookers. Well not active onlookers-but enough people to make the scenario seem a bit awkward. This happens all the time-everywhere I go. Maybe it's the influence of the excessive amount of mirrors in this country. Carly Simon's "You're So Vain," ya know the one that is always a highlighted tune from the As Seen On TV "Hits from 70's" is now stuck in my head. "Only 19.95 No C.O.D.'s"

My social commentary on life in Korea slowly fades away with each passing day. That statement itself could be a reason alone. You see I have embarked on a full out rhyming battle with friends new and old and it has temporarily taken over my life. What's more, scrabble consumes my every moment on the computer. I never EVER thought I would leave Korea uttering the same response as my students to the question "What are your hobbies?" But yes, "Play computer gaaaame" seems to be an adequate response for me these days since online scrabble has quickly become a beloved past time. Nonetheless I digress (there I go again with the rhyming).

Whether its the looming departure date which becomes more of a reality each passing day, or the lack of mindblowingly interesting experiences as of recent, I have not felt compelled to write as of late. It is also hard to document my daily life which typically consists of going to the gym, teaching and playing Frisbee. Especially when at one point, I was depicting crazy adventures in South East Asia. I am simultaneously holding on my my experiences here, but unable to get my next steps out of my mind. The overarching theme these days, is what exactly is my next step post Fulbright?

I peruse craigslist on a daily basis, frustrated by the disjoint between housing prices and my potential income from a full time teaching job. But that isn't my main problem-since I can't find the right teaching job. Rather, I can't find the right school that wants to hire me. Eventually things will pan out, but I am fearful of returning home jobless, directionless and without a car, insurance or the money to buy all of the food I have craved for the past year. Any assitance regarding the aforementioned would be of great help.

Otherwise things have been great here. I play Frisbee and recently took part in my first ultimate tournament. It was odd to see a group of post grads mixed with middle aged expats along with parents and their children, go absolutely wild for one weekend. It was like a flashback to college-drinking games, general debauchery and themed parties. What I didn't realize is that I would EVER see that scene again outside of a college campus, let alone a wedding hall on Jeju Island South Korea. The skills of my fellow players-hailing from all parts of Asia, were PHENOMENAL. And all of the Jeju teams fared well for our bracket.

Next week I will start a 3 week scuba certification course followed by a 5 day adventure to Taipei for Buddha's Birthday. Then, I have exactly one month before making the big departure back home. Today I have exactly 62 days to make the most of my fleeting time here on this beautiful island. This also means 62 days to try and solidify some sort of future plan.

I am alive.

To be continued.