More Photos

Compliments of my friend Stephen, stewils.blogspot.com

 

 

 

 

These people have some crazy holidays ...

Two of them within the last month and a half, and neither were real "holidays" but the kind of crap hallmark and Kaplan would be jealous to create.

Pepero Day.
November 11. Yes Veterans Day for you Yanks and Armistice Day for my British and ANZAC friends.
But in Korea, it's a marketing day dedicated to a Korean chocolate-covered cookie stick. It's actually a knock-off of a Japanese snack called Pocky. I love these people. They can knock off or bootleg anything.

The funny thing is, Koreans already have their own version of Valentines Day, called "White Day" which takes place March 15. But the stores went nuts with pepero decorations. Students gave me candy throughout the day, and the same for Marissa. By the end of the day, we had a decent pile of chocolate-covered stick cookies.

But seriously, who makes a holiday for a cookie? One type of cookie. And what saps are these people that they fall for it. I know Valentines is a rip off and for suckers, (right Marissa? Please tell me I'm right) but there's at least a variety of products for men to be gouged by.

This is for ONE cookie.

The second holiday was even more bizarre to me.

November 15, the Korean SATs.

Each year there is a huge test, tantamount to the US SATs, that will make or break a Koreans chance of going to one of the better Universities here.

So on this day:

-Businesses agree to start later in the day or stay closed, so these test takers can have easier access to public transportation.

-Middle and Elementary Schools cancel the first and sometimes second period of classes to allow the high schoolers access, again, to public transportation.
(I almost said screw it to sleeping in for a morning, just to get on the subway and show the Koreans what a pain in the ass non-team player I am.

-(this one's my favorite) Police and ambulances are on standby to offer rides to any students who might run late for their exam. I shit you not. I saw this on TV and confirmed it with co-workers.

Thank God there isn't much crime here. Can you imagine calling the police, with the response being, "Sorry, we're taking the Kim kid to his exams. We'll be there after though."

The exam goes all day, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. I have to say though, it was a nice day not dealing with all those damn high school kids in line at various shops, on the subways or just around. It was like my dream when I lived in Los Angeles, that everyone who took my freeway to work would just die one day.

Well it's nice to just have a day sometimes.

A communist Christmas

Hello readers,

sorry I didn't post this week, but I was sick. Damn bacteria laden children.

Anyway, figured this was a grand opportunity to post our Christmas plans. We're going to China.

Marissa and I will take off December 24 and come back Jan 2. We'll see Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square and, of course, shop for knock-off and bootleg goods.

We'll even re-create this picture:

Not only Nixon can go to China. I just wonder where Marissa and I will get all the random Chinese people to stand next to us.


We're both pretty excited. More this week on the exciting Korean presidential election (I can't believe how politics works here. They only started campaigning THIS YEAR? I prefer the American system of a four year election process.)

HA! Even they can't tell the difference ...

The next time you ask an Asian person if they are a certain nationality, and they respond offended because they are Korean or Japanese instead of Chinese as you thought, tell the to go fuck themselves.

They can't even tell the difference.

Yesterday, I was at Everland, a cool version of Disneyland that unlike the evil mouse factory sells beer all over the park, has multiple smoking sections and sells food at a reasonable price.

There with my sixth grade students on a field trip we noticed a group of Asian people not speaking Korean.

My students said, "They're Japanese."

Later one of my co-workers tried to speak Korean with the group, thinking they were Koreans in a group.

Then one of my other co-workers said they are Chinese people.

The Answer:

HONG KONG.

Now the teacher who said Chinese was close, but if you ever tell a person from Hong Kong they are Chinese, they will be severely pissed with you.

However, I couldn't help enjoy Asians mistaking other Asian's country of origin.

Even they think they all look the same.

I can't wait ...

Thanksgiving. Yes it's finally here.

At this point you might be saying, "But James, you're in Korea. Wasn't Korean Thanksgiving almost two months ago, and wasn't dog served in lieu of turkey?"

Well you would be right on both of those counts, if it wasn't for Itaewon (pronounced eetawan) a foreigner's district here in Seoul. It's located right next to an Army barracks and draws in any foreigners from around Seoul or South Korea for that matter.

There's a few restaurants there that will serve up Thanksgiving dinners. So Marissa and I are heading up Thursday night for a Thanksgiving Buffet.

This dinner has been the first thing on my mind all week. Let me explain a few things first:

- Koreans don't eat Turkey. It's just not available here.
- This week's sixth grade lesson involves the Korean kids from the chapter, going to the American families house for Thanksgiving.

Then I was dumb enough to put together a powerpoint for the lesson, showing pictures of Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and gravy for the kids. Not only have I shown them what we eat, I'm driving myself mad with how damn good it all looks.

*     *      *     *     *     *     *     *

In other news congratulations to my sister Karalyn and her husband Jason on the birth of their daughter, Ella Marie. I don't know when I will meet Ella, but I already have a kilo of dog meat ready for her when she can eat solids.


--
http://loughriedoeskorea.blogspot.com

Where have I been and what does my name mean?

Well folks, we've had a little problem in the Korean Government lately. Apparantly the Serfs we're learning how to blog, so the Korean government shut down access to blogspot on governernment computers. Since I work for the public school system, mine is one of them. 

 

I'm trying to figure out a way to post from school, since I don't care to write at home. But since the television writers' strike has shut or is shutting down many of my favorite shows, I might have less time to idley kill in my apartment.

 

I'm attempting to post this by e-mailing it to my blog. Wish me luck

 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

 

It was a question from one of my co-workers. A legitimate one, considering most Korean names have direct translations and meanings.

People here can point to their name and say, "It means ..." All of their names, and they have three of them, mean something that's directly translated.  

So when they asked me, "What does your name mean?" I was, for the first time in my life, speechless. I thought it meant James. I even had to Altavista my name.

 

Then it came up. "James is Hebrew for Supplanter." Then I was left with the task of explaining what, "supplanter" means. 

 

"It basically means you change something and offer something else in it's place. Like salt substitute (which they don't have here) or food additives."

 

Yes. that is me. I am a cheap substitute.  I should have never looked my name up 

--
http://loughriedoeskorea.blogspot.com

The foreigner special olympics ...

Do me a favor as you read this blog. Cue up the song "Chariots of Fire."

So there we were. It was Korean Thanksgiving and Marissa and I each had three nice weekdays off.

And as a bonus, there was a Monet exhibition at the Seoul Museum of Art. I was two weeks into my knee injury, but I was going to be damned if we missed this exhibit, especially since it was scheduled to close the day after Korean Thanksgiving.

We made it to the subway station and as we walked out, I saw him.

Another foreigner on crutches. He had an accent and was British/Scottish/Mexican/Irish/South African/Australian or Kiwi. I can't tell them apart.

We were heading out the same exit. It was on. Neither of us said anything, but made eye contact and understood. One of us would be the first one up the stairs.



Korea's not bad when it comes to handicapped access, but it's not great either. Most of the subway stations have elevators or escalators, but they take out a different exit and it's an easy way to get lost.

My competitor in this foreigners special olympics was on two crutches as I had been the week prior. That gave me a clear speed advantage. He also was sporting a left knee injury but fractured the bone versus my partially torn tendon. That's about a wash in my opinion.

However, I had the speed advantage of one crutch and a brace versus his two crutches and splint.

And away they go ...

I started the race pacing myself. It was a big set of stairs and I didn't want to tire myself out. About halfway though, I realized I had this guy. He was moving slow and too cautiously. Then I was off. I easily outpaced him in the second half.

Reaching the finish line.

Winning that race up the stairs my seem like a small, petty victory, but it meant the world to me. After two weeks of having old people walk faster than me, I was finally faster than someone.

Let's go out ...

It was Marissa's third Saturday in Korea and it was time to go out.

So we went to the Hospital.

Though I fell the day before, I waited for a day until I couldn't walk anymore. Finally it was time to go to the hospital.

Now there's plenty of hospitals here in Korea that have English speaking International Clinics, but I didn't feel like taking a cab.

So we get in and I'm able to point to my knee and say, "It hurts here," in Korean.

Now the fun begins.

The Korean hospital wasn't as clean as I would like, but it was much better than Antelope Valley Hospital, where I stayed for a few days in 2005 for pneumonia.

The emergency room there was like a triage unit, a large room about the size of a first story home in America. Approximately 20 beds were there in this room where people lay next to each other, no matter how severe their ailments were.

Next to me was a man who had his arm broken in what appeared to be an accident with some friends, who also were there with various broken appendages.

On the other side of me, the most priceless entertainment a man in pain could ask for: A dramatic Korean woman.

Marissa and I do not speak Korean. But we can still smell bullshit. This woman kept turning in her bed, moaning, waving her arms slowly in the air and over her forehead and swooning for the most hilarious drama I can recall.

I do know enough Korean to know what her doctor said to her when he walked over and said, "You just need to go home and rest."

In Korea, there is no such thing as doctor-patient confidentiality. Everyone is out in the open and everyone can see and hear what the doctor is doing to you and telling you.

That's when things got interesting and fun.

The fellas to my right were sending one of their more able bodied friends on a beer run. That's right. Hospital be damned, the dude was getting beer. Also, one of my favorite visuals from the Korean hospital, were people standing outside the entrance in the patient gowns, smoking cigarettes. Some even had IVs with them but they wanted to step outside and enjoy a nice smoke break.

That's commitment. One has to tip their hat to the Korean men smoking outside.

I managed to get patched up with a referral for an orthopedic doctor the following Monday.

All and all, it was a decent experience. I was in an out within 5 hours, which is just the waiting time for many U.S. hospitals. They had doctors on staff who spoke English and they correctly diagnosed me.

The only bad part was they put me in a whole leg splint that went from my foot to thigh and was held in place by bandages.

Fortunately the first orthopedic doctor I saw put me in a smaller splint which only went from the top of my knee to the middle of my calf.

Next up on LoughriedoesKorea.blogspot.com, the foreigners special Olympics ....

A minor setback ...

Yes, that's a knee brace.

Yes, I'm injured.

The embarrassing incident took place two weeks ago when I fell in the bathroom. Yes, I fell in the bathroom. Go ahead, laugh crack all the jokes you want.

See all the bathrooms here in Korea have a drain at the sink and the floors are all tile and get very wet. The floor is sloped toward the drain so the bathroom dries out within an hour or so.

But it get slippery, and despite numerous close calls, I landed on my left knee in the bathroom.

Nothing was broken but there were partial tendon tears in my knee. I'm getting better now and no longer need my crutch for walking.

Suffice to say it's been an interesting few weeks for Marissa and I.

The knee story will come in more installments, including the hospital visit, handicapped access and will finish off at the end of the week with the Foreigner Special Olympics.

OK, I'm back ....

I know this picture could have been taken anywhere. But it's in Korea, trust me.

and I've got company.

Some of you may know that Marissa, my girlfriend of almost two years, is with me now in Korea.

We did the long distance thing when I was in Turkey and my first six months here in Korea.

But skype and emails are no way to conduct a relationship, and when she heard about how tasty dog is, she said, "Yes, I'm coming to Korea."

It's been great taking her around Seoul. So far, we've been to the singing room (private karaoke) three times in the last three weeks. We've also been the foreigner district thrice. Each time we go is like a visit to America, Ireland and Turkey. Or at least the bar Nashville's, our pub the Wolfhound and my Turkish kebab vendor.

But with moving to a new environment comes new customs, practices and adjustments. The most repeated phrase of the last three weeks has been, "You'll get used to it."

See, Koreans are a quirky people. Here's a list of things they do and don't do:

-They don't wait in lines or queues. In fact, I don't think the concept of queue registers here.
-They stare at the foreigners. I think it comes from living in a homogeneous society. When you're country is made of 97% of one race, a couple of white Americans don't really blend in.
-They spit on the sidewalk. A Korean man doesn't think twice about horking on the street or sidewalk.
-They don't follow the unspoken, yet understood Western rule of elevators. That's right, they don't get out of the way for people getting off or wait for them to get off before getting on. You just have to shove your way through.
-Crazy ass cab drivers. Yeah, we all know the stereotypes about Asian drivers. Well, I'm here to report it's true.


But there's plenty of good things too:
-The subway takes you anywhere you want to go and it's cheap. About a U.S. Dollar and you can take the train anywhere. Plus it's immaculately clean and safe.
-Seoul doesn't really close. If you want to go out and stay out until 5 or 6 a.m. it easily doable. That can be a bad thing too, but so far I've kept up my old man consistency of going to bed by 9.
-Koreans are pretty friendly. Yeah there's the occasional jerk, but that's in every country. Overall, they're hospitable and nice.
-Everything is within walking distance, especially from my apartment which is in a nice neighborhood.
-Life here is generally easy. Teaching is so little stress compared to journalism and we have much more free time and better holidays.

It's been great. And our weekends have been so filled, that I've neglected you dear readers. But here's a LoughriedoesKorea promise. I will post more, but you must do the following: LEAVE YOUR NAME WHEN YOU COMMENT.

I don't care what you write, I just want to know who it is.

I will post each week with a recap of weekends, stories and, of course, wacky adventures.

Free Hugs ...

Yes, the offer was too good to refuse.

I've read about these kind of people in China and other countries. They stand in the streets and shopping centers with a sign that reads ... you guessed it, Free Hugs.

One day out with Phil, Kerry and Jed, in Insadong Seoul (which could be best described as the Soho of Seoul) we see a dude holding the sign. "Free hugs."

What do you think I did?


It was an offer I couldn't refuse.

But the free hug thing is more than just people standing with a sign. There are people all over Seoul wearing "Free Hugs" shirts. I'm tempted to just walk up to them and put my arms out for a hug. But I'm also leery of going back to jail or having to re-register, if you know what I mean.

But maybe I can hold the "Free Hugs" sign for a few hours one day. I'll have to have video along with me though, as that's something I want recorded for eternity.

Just when I've gotten back into writing ...

As many of you good readers can tell, I've recently found my muse and am posting on a fairly regular basis.

But in a matter of a week and a few days I'm back home, where, I can't guarantee I will want to write. (My hands might be filled with food the entire time I'm there.)

So now, a loughriedoeskorea.blogspot.com opportunity.

How would you like to post on my blog?

That's write (spelled as such intentionally). I'll let you take the wheel and write an entry for my blog. Just e-mail me a picture and your blog post and I will publish it*

Think about all the things you want to say. Want to tell me I suck? Post it! Want to advocate overthrowing the U.S. Government? Post it! Want to make fun of natural disaster victims? Post it! Wanna tell people about that time we were drunk in a bar and killed that hobo just for laughs? Better not post it, as there is still an investigation open.

I'll be parked by the virtual mailbox waiting. The posts will run from August 17 to August 30.

*This is a special notice for Keller. He thinks some pretty sick shit and he is a sick guy. I do not guarantee I will publish anything that comes in, especially from Keller, who is a good friend and a Trojan brother but also a psychopath. Anyone whose read this blog knows the bar is pretty low when it comes to standards, quality and ethics. But Keller could make me look like a The Pope (the nice one who watched kids breakdance, not the Hitler Youth one.)

The almost silent killer in my flat ...

Yes, this could kill you. At least that's what Koreans believe.

Many Koreans believe if you leave a fan on in the room while you sleep, it could both lower your body temperature or suck the oxygen out of the room.

No, I'm not joking.

Many intelligent people here, including teachers, doctors and nurses, believe sleeping with the fan on is "dangerous."

Unfortunately, now would be the time I posted a link showing one of a handful of news articles that pops up in the Korean press. Except there's one problem: all of the articles are in Korean.

This is one thing that pisses me off. Yes, I laugh at these people on a regular basis for this, and try to explain that it doesn't exist. So the Korean media, which has several English outlets, doesn't translate any of their fan death stories.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MOCK YOU WHEN YOU DON'T GIVE ME THE TOOLS.

I get the second-hand stories from co-workers who tell me they either read about it or see it on television.

But then I get angrier, when I realize the Koreans invited me here to their country so I can teach their children English and better equip them for life in a global marketplace, but don't give a damn if I die from leaving my fan on all night. Thick bastards.

I suspect there are plenty of you who do not believe a damn word of this, so I will provide the following links to peruse:

A site dedicated to fan death, appropriately named, fandeath.net

And this from Wikipedia. Yeah I know, it's wikipedia, but it's the best we can do right now.

When I find an English article you people will be the first to read it.

Until then, I'm gambling with my life as the fan blows in my closed apartment.

I HATE BUGS!

This picture should explain it all.

I'm back at my apartment after 12 days of English camp, and this is what my foot looked like following two days of topical medicine.

I hate bugs. I have my feet wrapped up now. It looks like I twisted my ankles.

On the bright side two weeks until I'm home again. All the gang will be there I'm sure. Barney, Moe, that guy who calls me Bill.

I can't wait to ...

So Im at English Camp. For those who don't know, teachers in Seoul that work for public schools have to go to a two to three week English camp at least once a year. I'm in the middle of 12-day camp for middle school students.

It's not a bad experience and means I'll make a little extra money for when I visit home. And that brings me to today's blog.

There's another 23 foreign English teachers at my camp, many of whom have plans to visit home after this camp. It's become one of the biggest conversation topics amongst our group.

There some amazing eats around the world, but everyone has their local favorites.

With a little less than three weeks until I touch down on the brown fields of the Antelope Valley, I've been talking and thinking about all the things I want to eat and drink when I get back. Here's a brief list.

1. A Tommy's Chili Cheeseburger.
2. Mexican food from El Toreo and Vallarta.
3. Beer. They had beer in Turkey and they have beer in Korea, but it's piss water. I can't wait to drink a Sam Adams, Bass, and go to Trader Joes for some miscellaneous brands.
4. Cheese and cold cuts. Turkey had some amazing cheese but it's crap here in Korea. Sliced meats aren't a big deal either.
5. A nice glass of single malt scotch with a Honduran cigar.
6. Cevice.
7. A lawnmower salad from Bakery Express.
8. A cobb salad from Red Robin.
9. A breakfast burrito from Primo Burgers.
10. Biscuits and gravy.

I better stop writing because I am getting hungry. I also might gain a few pounds when I'm home.

Last day of school!

For a few weeks. Actually, I go back to work Sunday, but this is the last time my school will see me until August 29.

While this would be considered the end of the school year for American and western schools, it's merely a break for the Korean kids.

For them the school year begins in March.

For me, on Sunday I go to English camp in an undisclosed secure location. (I know they aren't funny anymore, but I still love Dick Cheney in hiding references.)

From Sunday, July 22, to August 2, I will teach at the Engerishee camp for a little extra scratch and vacation time.

Then on August 5, 6, or 7, I might head of for a trip to another location, yet to be announced, but definitely undisclosed and secure.

Whatever trip that is, I will be back August 14 or 15, to get ready for my trip back to America August 17.

It sure will be neat being back in the states. I can't wait to see the old gang: Ralph Malf, Potzi, the Fonz.

Outback Kimchi sucks ...

Yes, the Outback, the famed Australian themed steak house chain also exists here in Korea. But of course, with a local twist.

This week a group of fifth grade teachers and I took advantage of student minimum days, went to the movies followed by dinner at outback.

The Outback food was exactly the same as in the States with one exception: they served kimchi with the meal. And they make a horrible kimchi. (Good steak though.)

For those not in the know, kimchi is the national dish of Korea. It's basically any vegetable, fermented with a red pepper paste. It sounds gross by description, but it's actually quite good and somewhat addicting.

This is the most popular variety, cabbage kimchi.

Koreans eat kimchi at EVERY meal. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, kimchi is there. But because they make so many varieties of it, sometimes alternating the spices and or vegetables, it never really seems monotonous.

Kimchi is also, as many of my coworkers have told me, "good for the health." Though health.com verifies this claim, sometimes the Koreans can go overboard with it.

They claim bird flu, sars and aids don't exist in Korea because kimchi. They also claim that kimchi provides "virility," one of the claims also made for dog meat.

Honestly, though, when I read about kimchi for the first time on the plane ride over here, I thought it sounded gross. But I tried it and now not only enjoy it, I have cravings for it if I don't get it. I eat lunch at school every day, where of course there is kimchi served. But sometimes I don't have it at home.

I shit you not when I say that every Monday when I get back into school, the highlight of my day is getting kimchi at lunch.

So here is the test for any of you dear readers who want to try something new, and expand your horizons. Find a Korean restaurant near you and go try some kimchi. Ask them for different varieties. On top of the cabbage version there are some nice radish and cucumber kimchi dishes I particularly enjoy.

Give it a try this weekend and report back to me.

Picasa Web Albums - James - Norebang - norebang 014.jpg

Picasa Web Albums - James - Norebang - norebang 014.jpg

Oh the pitfalls ...

Of showing a movie.

Yes, my first time as a teacher in public schools showing a movie. Before any of you think, "James, you lazy ass you're there to teach English. The children can watch movies at home," let me tell you it was my co-teachers idea.

But one I happily complied with.

So we're watching the first Shrek film the last two weeks.

I was so excited coming into this, thinking, "This is great, I don't have to work. I can let the television teach the children for me." I thought it would be really cool.

Then I watched the same parts of Shrek for eight times over two days.

Let me tell you something, Eddie Murphy's donkey character loses its humor when you've heard the lines over and over in four part doses each day.

I am getting some reading done and should be posting more on my blog. I am not, but I do have the time to do some writing. Just not the will power.

I'm actually thinking of hiring some Indians to type in my thoughts and post them to my blog. I don't think it will be too expensive.

DISASTER!!!

I saw the poster last week.

Actually there was more than a poster.

Photo courtesy of Stephen Wilson

As you can see, there was a full on display couch for people to sit and have their pictures taken with the Simpsons. It was cool. But when reading the sign, I noticed, the movie isn't coming out until AUGUST 28. A WHOLE MONTH AFTER IT'S BEEN OUT IN AMERICA.

I was planning on seeing the movie opening day, and even possibly shaving my head and dressing like Homer. Bastards! Of all the movies.

I mean, I saw Spiderman 3 five days before you people in America. I saw Transformers today, another few days before you people will have the chance. (Yes, it was awesome.)

Oh well, the good news is I am coming home in August, so I won't have to wait until the 28th to take splendor in the Simpsons Movie. By the way, I'll be home August 17 and am leaving the 27th. My schedule will be packed pretty tight because I have a lot of time to spend with Marissa and the family. But there are still a few folks I have penciled in for things. Shoot me an e-mail if you want to hang out. I will try to see as many people as I can, but it will be a busy ten days.

I can't stop sweating ...

No I haven't been watching the Directors cut DVD of "Driving Miss Daisy" (Damn, Jessica Tandy was hot in that.)

It's summer on the peninsula and that means monsoon season. From now until the end of July, it will rain every two to three days as the temperature increases from the high 80s into the mid-90s.

It's so miserable weather wise. I can't do anything without sweating like a pig. I walk outside, and BAM!, there it is.

The heat and humidity themselves don't bother me, but their byproduct, sweat, does. Coming from the Desert, I am no stranger to heat. But this humidity is nasty. Oh people if only you could put your hand through the computer screen and place them under my arm to feel the moisture. And those of you from the USC Debate club know there's more moisture than from another person.

Oh the humanity.

Seoul Land - Bumper cars

A rare near bump during bumper cars.

OK, So I know we've all heard the jokes about Asian drivers. And for the most part (99%) those jokes are true. The same goes in Asia itself. Drivers here in Korea are HORRIBLE.

Oddly, because I've never seen this rule follow in another country, the cabbies here are the best drivers. The rest of the streets are bedlam though.

So when I was at Seoul Land with the kids a few weeks ago, I saw bumper cars and thought, "This might be cool."

And there was a big part of me, who hasn't driven a car since he left America, to take on the Asians. Since I don't have a car here, this would be the only way I could really show them how one can drive bad.

Look how damn far apart these cars are.

But as I queued for the bumper cars I saw something that struck me. These people were driving fine. They weren't even bumping each other. THEY DROVE BUMPER CARS BETTER THAN THEY DRIVE REGULAR CARS!

What the hell is wrong with you people.

Sometimes I feel bad about taking a paycheck for this job ...

Actually, no, that thought has never crossed my mind.

Nor did it when I went with the fourth graders to Seoul Land amusement park Monday.

Since I teach fourth grade classes every Monday, it was only natural that I join the kids on their field trip, then ditch them when they went into some show so I could go on roller coasters.

Me and the kids at the end of the day.

It was a blast though, which really surprised me. I hate amusement parks, but Korean amusement parks are kind of cool. For one, they are full of copyright violations.



Check out the Peter Pan ride and the knockoff Epcot Center.

As cheesy as it sounds though, the best part of the day was the kids. The kids at my school love me for the simple fact that I am a foreigner. All day they were hanging around with me, watching me play games and going nuts when I did anything.



Korean kids can't help but make the peace sign when they pose for pictures. Next weeks lesson is that it doesn't look cool anymore.

At lunch time, we were in this children's play land area and went in an played some of the games. When I went to the Chuck E. Cheese style ball room, they kids went nuts and started pelting me with plastic balls. Some of those kids had some pretty good arms on them too.

This netting reminded me of obstacle course in basic before I went to Nam.

I ran into this room with thinking the padded columns stood up against force. I fell on my ass, but then again, the kids loved watching Mr. L fall.

The ball room.

Dogs ...

Yes, it's finally come to posting about eating dogs.

I was hesitant to seek this topic out, being a dog lover, but oh too curious not to ask Koreans about dog meat.

As many people have inquired through comments and questions on this blog and through e-mail, I went and found answers. The things I do for you people.

Dog meat is popular here. Oh yes it is. It's not just a North Korean thing but a Korean thing. And it's odd because it's not something you come across everyday. It would be almost impossible to "accidentally" eat dog meat. First, because it's regarded as a delicacy and only served in seasons. Second because Koreans don't just come out with the fact that they love chomping on man's best friend.

But, I've been diplomatic about it. After all, I didn't feel comfortable just arriving off the plane and asking, "Where's Rover? I'm starving."

No, Koreans are very aware of what Westerners think about dog meat, partly thanks to the bang up Korean media (these guys [media outlets] really suck.)

This monk, praying at a ancient temple site, might be Buddhist, but he's also Korea. More than likely, the dog next to him will be consumed within the next few months.

It all started a few weeks ago in an English conversation class I have every Friday with teachers. We have a "anything goes" policy implemented by me that anyone may ask any question and the only person who has veto power is me. (OK, this isn't a formal rule, but what can I say, I enforce it regularly.)

We were discussing travel and what bizarre things we've eaten as a result. I mentioned kokorech, a delightful Turkish sandwich made of sheep's intestines. (It was one of my favorite Turkish foods.)

Then they asked me, "Will you eat dog?"

I've read an seen pictures about how horribly the dogs are treated before and when they die. (If you want to find out more about it just google it, I'm not doing all your research for you.)

But there's something in my mind and heart that knows I can't live in Korea without having tried dog meat. It would be damn near criminal of me.

So I answered very honestly, that I will try it at least once. (Maybe twice if I am allowed seconds.

Boshintang, which is the Korean word for a special dog soup, became the topic of conversation. It's rare that women like it or have even tried it. The five women in my conversation class had never tried boshintang.

But for men, it's wildly popular. They believe that eating the dog meat gives a man sexual health. (No joke.)

I've even heard some men comment that it's their favorite meat.

No I have to try it. Maybe it will be "mashita" (Korean for delicious.) Plus, words gotten around that I want to try boshintang, and there are Koreans lining up to take me out.

Dog season takes place in the summer, and with June almost at a halfway point, it's almost a guarantee that I will try it soon.

Now here's the fun part for you. Let's get a betting pool together about when I will try dog. We've got from June 9 through, let's say, August 2. Everyone who wants to play can paypal me a buck for a date. Purchase as many dates as you please. The winner, (Price is Right Rules of closest without going over) wins the money in the pool minus a 20 percent administrative fee.

Good luck!

Majusaeyo?

The Korean word for, "Is it delicious?"

That was one word I heard a lot from Thursday afternoon to Friday evening.

It was my school's anniversary, or as the Korean's translate it, the school's birthday.

Another sweet thing about working in the Korean public schools is that on top of the federal holidays, of which there are 13 a year, each school has a set of five floating holidays. One of those floating holidays is the school's anniversary.

So on the anniversary of your school opening its door, you get a day off. Pretty sweet, huh?

What was also cool, was my school organized a trip for the teachers to Suanbo, which means "hot springs" in Korean.

About 2 and a half hours to the south of Seoul, we went hiking through a historical forest that dates back to the 14th Century, sang karaoke and danced at a night club, saw a historic temple and the ruins of one of Korea's palace.

Throughout the entire trip though, my Korean colleagues were impressed with the most mundane things I did. "You use chopsticks very well."

"You are a very strong drinker."

"You walk so fast."

It was cute the way they were amazed that a white man can do all these things. I felt like doing the same to them, but why cut off the reflective glory in which I could bask.

My colleagues are very cool though, because for 24 hours any time someone poured a bottle, bought a snack or sat down for a meal, they would wave me over to give me some of whatever they had and then ask me, "Majusaeyo?"

Some of the food sucked, but they looked so cute and invested in what I would eat, I didn't have the heart to tell them I thought it tasted like a bland mush.

Now I'm a pretty decent guy and I'm downright tolerant to some degree, but for a solid 24 hours I was accosted by Koreans with food, all of them asking me, "Is it delicious?" It got old toward the end of the trip.

Plus it was 24 hours in the wilderness, doing hikes and being amongst nature. Which is nice for about 24 hours, but then I tire of the cheap showiness of nature.

By Friday evening I needed my beautiful concrete jungle, with people who don't give a damn whether I think something is delicious.

Hapkido

Yes, sometimes to find inspiration for writing, I will go as far as attending a Hapkido class.

Hapkido is one of the Martial Arts created here in Korea. Yesterday was my first class.

Now for those of you laughing at me already, thinking: 1) About the "Seinfeld" episode where Kramer takes Karate classes and beats up on the kids, until they tire of it and gang up on him after class; or 2) comparing me to Amico hear me out.

I am in Asia and I need exercise. What better way to make good use of my time here than to take on a Martial Arts course. Besides, if any of you continue to laugh at me, the next time I see you, I will drop you. It's that simple.

I know Martial Arts are practiced for "self defense" but I'm using for "self offense." I want to become the physical bully I've always wanted to be.

No more paying for things I don't want to pay for. No more intentionally not looking at gang members hoping they don't remember me or my past work as a reporter. No more being polite to people larger than me out of fear they can take me.

Yes, Hapkido does not focus on attack moves but more defense moves that turn the attackers force into a weapon against him. (And I say him, because I don't need Hapkido to defend myself against a chick.) But these moves of defense can easily be tailored to moves of attack.

Look out world, I'm gonna kick your ass.

OK, I'm back and I want your help

Look folks, I've been MIA for a while, but everything's OK.

It was a two-fold problem.

1) I didn't have many ideas.
Sometimes when writing I need to take a break and get some ideas. Take a look around and see what's happening and what would make a good post. I don't want to post just for the sake of posting (though this is what it feels like). I want to write a good entry, a good story that you will enjoy reading and - more importantly - that I will enjoy writing.

2) I didn't feel like writing.
I was a reporter for three years, as many of you know. There's little room to "find your motivation" as a reporter. There's a deadline and space to fill. You write because you have to.

I remember once hearing fellow SC alumnus Art Buchwald tell a story upon visiting the Annenberg School for Communication. Buchwald said, "When you're a reporter, there's no such thing as writer's block. You just write."

So I'm back and now comes the part where I ask for your help. Send me some ideas. I have some, but I want more. And more importantly, I want to know what you want to know. What questions do you have about Korea? Do you want to hear anything in particular? Do you want to know more about daily life, school or teaching? What do you want to hear about? I'll keep this post up for a week until I get some ideas from you people.

And for those of you reading this from the good ole' Palmdale, California, stop asking Marissa when I am going to post again. Instead write me and ask ME!!! (And include some ideas for blog posts.)

Field Trip!!!

Yes, it was field trip day a few weeks ago. One afternoon, the school closed early and we booked it for the Korean National Cemetery followed by a street where Korea's Cherry Blossom Trees bloomed.

I found it strange though that when we got to the Korean National Cemetery, it was only teachers. (Grade 3 Teachers specifically.)

"Where are the students," I asked.

"They go next week," my co-teacher replied.

So we're taking a field trip for teachers? Alright, I'll roll with it.

The first stop, the Korean National Cemetery, was a nice sight. It featured tanks, airplanes and cannons used by the Korean Military and monuments to fallen soldiers. But what I really noticed was how damn neat and tidy the tombstones were.

By far the cleanest and neatest cemetery I've ever seen. And I've been to a lot of cemeteries.


Notice how each headstone has alternating red or yellow flowers.

I asked my co-teacher, Son Young, "Do all cemeteries in Korea look like this, or is this one special because it's the government cemetery?"

"All the cemeteries are like this," she said. I still don't know whether to believe her and will make trips to witness these Necropoli for myself.

As a fan of cemeteries, I must say it was somewhat disappointing. Every single headstone looks the same and carries only text (which I couldn't read because it's written in Korean.)

But there was no difference in height, width or style amongst the tombstones. Kind of boring for a cemetery aficionado like myself.

But, as a former death care professional, I admired the ease this created for cemetery maintenance and upkeep. Mowers do not have to zig and zag between odd shaped rows. There was no variation in a row of column of headstones.

Every headstone was numbered too, which would make navigating the cemetery ideal.

The Korean Cemetery is parallel with what I've learned of Korean society. Because it's based on the Confucian Philosophy, there is not a strong desire for people to stand out. The group is considered more important, as is benefiting the group. It's kind of nice living amongst this philosophy when American children and people thing they are all special and everyone wants to hear what they have to say.

This post has nothing to do about Korea ...

But a tribute to one of my heroes in life, David Halberstam, who died Monday (local time) in California.

Read on if you like, or tune in later this week for a look at Korean Cemeteries (Kim Rawley won't want to miss that one).

I still remember the day I was in my last semester at the University of Southern California and the announcement was made that David Halberstam was the keynote speaker for our graduation. I was thrilled. For a journalism student who knew something about the world, unlike many of my peers, I admired Halberstam's career with the New York Times covering Vietnam to his successful book writing career.

Halberstam at the 2002 USC commencement, almost five years ago to the day.

I was thrilled. "David fucking HALBERSTAM," I told one of my classmates. He wrote the "Best and the Brightest. He won the Pulitzer for covering Nam."

A lot of my friends and some of my classmates had no idea who the man was. A sad commentary on my generation.

I still remember his commencement speech. It was one of the best speeches I've heard in my life. I was scared shitless about the future when I graduated. I took a job in politics because the journalism job market was so bad and because I was deathly afraid of graduating college without a job.

Halberstam finally put it in perspective. I sat there still drunk from the night before but I had a perfect moment of clarity. When he spoke it was like a the sun came out and I knew everything would be OK.

He said none of us should worry about getting out into the world and making mistakes. In fact he encouraged us to get out there and make our mistakes early, when they would be easiest to recover from while we were still young.

He said none of us should know what we want to do with the rest our lives, because we're only in our early 20s.

I still remember him recalling his first newspaper job. He said it was at the smallest newspaper in Missouri and that he had been fired less than a year into the job.

Those few sentences gave me so much hope that when I eventually became a newspaper reporter nine months later, I always remembered what Halberstam said and where he started his career. I was working at an 800-circulation weekly newspaper and I kept remembering, "David Halberstam started small too. If he can do it, I can do it."

Though I'm glad I'm out of the newspaper business and feel sorry for people still stuck in what I consider the industrial version of a nursing home, I still held Halberstam in high esteem because he gave me hope when I started as a reporter.

A year after graduation I went down to the UCLA Festival of Books, solely to meet Halberstam. I remember going down there with my mom after I drove from the Central Valley to Lancaster. When I met Halberstam I was almost speechless. I was in awe. And for no real reason other than respect for what he had done so far in his career and life.

I tried the best I could to thank him for encouraging me though he didn't know it. I muttered out a one-liner about how I graduated from SC and now work as a newspaper reporter for "the smallest newspaper in California."

So, dear readers, if you've made it to the end of this rambling post, thank you for indulging me in a moment of sadness and memory. I have no idea why the death of a 73-year-old man meant so much more than the deaths of 33 people last week in Virginia, but I can probably sum it up with one sentence. I'm a sick person.

James Loughrie ... Good Day!

"Don't worry about it."

I'm the wrong person to apologize to. Because someone else admitting weakness to me is the sweetest tasting nectar of all.

After a Korean killed 32 people at Virginia Tech, one of my coworkers said they were sorry.

Now that I've felt the surge of apology I want more.

That's why this week, I'm walking through the streets of Seoul asking for apologies. Not just from Koreans, but other Americans and especially Canadians.

OK, in reality I was the wrong guy to apologize to. When my coworker said that, I said, "Ah Don't worry about it. It happens."

I continued, "It had nothing to do with him being Korean, he was just crazy. Yes, he killed 32 people, but more than 11,000 people in America die every year from homicides. Besides, there's a lot are more than 32 people dead because of crimes committed by illegal immigrants."

My colleague understood and we started talking about guns and their availability in America, but I defended my country's homicide rate as statistically insignificant.

Yes, if one of your loved ones was killed Monday or is killed by a homicide, it's a tragedy and there is no justification. But now I have to listen to expats from Canada, England and Ireland talk about how violent America is.

I've been saying it for a while now: America has 300,000,000 people. Approximately 11,000 of them die in gun related deaths each year. That's .003 percent. three hundredths of a percent. That means one in every 27,000 people.

It's not like one will walk off the airplane and get shot once they get to America. Yes, our murder rate may be higher than others, but at the end of the day you're more likely not to get killed.

"So what does it mean ..."

"Nappy headed ho."

Yes that question was posed to me.

I like teaching English. I LOVE teaching slang.

This week, a tip of the hat to Don Imus, because I never thought I would teach someone in a foreign country what a "nappy headed ho" was.

Most of my colleagues are fluent in English but that's the academic sterilized classroom shit. It's hard to try and relate to them how important slang is, but I always try to give them a little extra. When you've been on the streets like I have, hopping from crackhouse to crackhouse, you learn a few extra things. This is one of the rare moments they do some good.

About a day after I explained nappy headed ho - "Nappy means their hair is very dirty and ho is a dirty woman. It used to mean prostitute but now it just means she is a dirty woman who has multiple sex partners" - a student had me cracking up today with this one.

Yes, a student, an 11-year-old Korean boy who said, "Son of bitch is baby dog."

I immediately told him to stop.

There were no articles in his sentence. So I had to show him how to put the letter a in front of "son," "bitch" and "baby."

So once we corrected the sentence to, "A son of a bitch is a baby dog," I had to teach him the word "puppy" instead of "baby dog."

So then we repeated, "A son of a bitch is a puppy."

So I said, "Good, but the subject should be up front. Is the subject the bitch? No, so we need to start the sentence with the subject, 'A puppy.'"

I was so proud when he said, "A puppy is a son of a bitch."

It's a good feeling when you end the day like this, knowing you made a positive difference in a child's life.

James


*The student really said that. I did however, tell him he said a bad word in English and not to say it again. Then I turned around and did everything I could not to cry because I was laughing so hard.

Jesus!

In honor of Easter, a post about Jesus.

That's what the woman said to me.

I was nearly crying I was laughing so hard. Let me explain.

There's a lot of religious people here in Korea. Christians to be more exact, both Protestant and Catholic. I'm still adjusting to some parts of life here after my six months in Turkey and one of them is religion.

In Turkey the people were Muslim, but they were secular. Turks almost never talked about religion unless it was a religious holiday or you asked them, which I did on a frequent basis.

But here in Korea, there's a lot of Christians who have no bones about asking you, "What religion are you?"

Further more there are a lot of missionaries around who stop you on the street and hassle you, no matter how little English they speak.

Missionary #1 stopped me outside the immigration office as I was getting my residence permit processed.

He showed me a piece of paper that read, "Have you heard of God our Mother?"

At first I thought the women's lib movement went to damn far, making God a woman. But then I remembered a little book I read called, "The DaVinci Code."

So I blurted out the best that I could paraphrase, "The concept of a female counterpart to God is nothing new. Pagans believe in the Sacred Feminine and the concept of a woman countering a male deity, much like the Yin and Yang."

To that he nodded his head and said, "Thank you."

Missionary #2 spoke pretty good English. She caught me walking through the streets near my apartment and asked me if I would listen to her give a short speech. At first I thought she wanted me to give her private lessons, until she took out a booklet from her church and asked me, "Have you heard of the Holy Mother?"

To which I said, "Yes, I have."

"Oh really, Western people usually don't about the Holy Mother, how do you know about it?"

To which I replied: "The concept of a female counterpart to God is nothing new. Pagans believe in the Sacred Feminine and the concept of a woman countering a male deity, much like the Yin and Yang."

She was ecstatic and invited me to her church, which I politely declined, telling her I was a Scientologist and preferred to believe human life comes from a far away planet Xenu.

With that I bid her a good day.

Missionary #3 was my favorite though.

I saw her when I went to the bank one day. I passed her walking towards the bank when she tried to hand me a flier and said something in Korean. Thinking she was selling something, I politely said, "Aneo" which means "No" in Korean.

I did my business at the bank machine and walked toward the woman again, heading to the subway entrance. With an excited look in her face, she says, "Jesus!"

"That's nice," I said as I walked by and went on with my day, laughing almost hysterically.

I have to tell you, I never once met a Muslim missionary in Turkey. I took it for granted.

Goddamn germ carrying walking cesspools ...

That's what I thought last week as I battled with a cold.

Most all of my English teaching colleagues have gotten sick in the last month since we began our jobs. It just comes with the turf spending days in class rooms with 30 to 35 children.

Children are dirty creatures, they really are.

I've gotten so afraid of the germs I had a Howard Hughes moment last week. I saw the children coughing in class. Several at a time. As they coughed I visualized the germs and bacteria spreading through the air to each child and trying to make its way to me.

Dirty little bastards.

I feel better now though, thanks to the fact that I've transformed my apartment into a germ free zone, complete with tissue boxes for slippers, duct tape sealing my doors and bottles of my own urine.

"Second place ... "

and no, not first loser, but the second place last Friday evening.

As you may recall from the last post, I was out to dinner with the male teachers from my school.

Here in Korea though, it's rare that you go one place. If you go to dinner, you almost always go to a second place for more booze and fun. So when my vice principal told me the English translation, "Singing Room," I happily shrieked the Korean word, Norebang.

Many of you in the states know I love karaoke. Maweja in Turkey knows I like it so much that if I can't find karaoke, like I couldn't in Turkey, I will sing live when I can.

Norebang is different from Karaoke in it's a small room where you get a personalized big screen television and remote control to enter in song names. There is a decent variety of English songs here in Korea, but I am already researching a method to get more. (I'll keep you posted.)

A group goes to a Norebang studio and rents the room per hour, commencing to sing and have a merry good time. It's like your own private karaoke lounge.

To me it has its pluses and drawbacks.

Pluses: You're only with your friends, so there is an increased freedom to try new songs that you normally wouldn't sing. (Some of you have seen me do multiple songs over again, a shame, but sometimes you have to go with what you know.)

Minuses: There isn't a huge crowd cheering when you nail it. That is one of the greatest feelings in the world.

But there with my Korean coworkers, I belted out a few tunes and even did some experimenting.

I sang, "What a Wonderful World," with a raspy tribute to Sachmo and was given the compliment, "You sound just like Neil Armstrong."

Thanks ... I think.

I as really impressed with my coworkers. These Koreans have some pipes on them. They can sing really well. I wouldn't just say this because I was drunk and everything sounds better when you're wasted.

Norebang is going to be it's own post next time, because I just can't write enough about this.

More later,

annyonghi kaseyo,

James

"It's a special kind of chicken ... "

"it's made with poison, but only a small amount."

That was my warning heading into dinner Friday night.

The male teachers at my school gather once a month and eat dinner. My friend and tennis partner Mr. Ur told me about the event and poison we'd be consuming that night.

At first I thought maybe it was a translation problem, not really poison but something that could be bad for you in large doses like cooking with lard (but it tastes oh so right.)

I entered the restaurant, which was a traditional Korean venue tucked away of a small hillside. When I got there, I saw two dogs chained up in the front yard of what looked like a house. Those dogs, I assume, will be consumed one day when they get big enough.

I took off my shoes and entered this banquet room with the small Asian style table you see in some U.S. restaurants.

Things were going well until Mr. Ur handed me a pill and said, "It's for prevention, because of the poison."

At that point I started to worry. I already had a sore throat that I would discover two days later is a cold. I felt a little uneasy about eating something that required I take a pill beforehand.

Then I said to myself, "Self, every man dies. Not every man truly lives."

Turns out it wasn't all that poisonous. But the Soju was.

Soju is a very popular rice liquor (approximately 25% alcohol) here that tastes like ass on the first shot. It's a bizarre drink because there is no flavor or taste out of the first shot. It's just nasty alcohol. But the second shot goes down much easier. By the third shot taste is no longer an issue.

And in Korea, when you're out with a group of men you drink A LOT of soju.

More on the second part of Friday night later.

Sefton is such a jackass ...

For many of you, Sefton is just a strange Swiss name.

Forgive his ancestors for hiding Jewish gold during the holocaust, because Sefton is an OK guy. I worked with him for a year in Selma, California (the raisin capitol of the world) at the Selma Enterprise.

Sefton is a very talented photographer but he gets news and art confused. One time he went to a car crash and took a picture of a woman crying. It was a great shot, but I asked him, "Where's the fucking car crash."

You must be asking yourself, "Why, why James, are you writing about a southerner (one of the few who uses a toothbrush and doesn't go to church) in your blog about Korea."

See folks, Sefton went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Yes, he is a Tarheel (gay mascot name by the way). As you all should know, I went to the University of Southern California (rated by TIME Magazine as "College of the Year" in 2000, and proud to claim alumni ranging from the late great Art Buchwald to Neil Armstrong).

Anyway, I sent Sefton an electronic mail this week offering him a little wager.

In said electronic mail,I wrote:
"My beloved underdog Fifth Seed Trojans against your First Seed Tarheels.

I think in the interest of sportsmanship and friendship we make some kind of bet on the game.

How's this. If SC wins, you stand somewhere in public in the south holding a big sign that reads, "USC beat UNC and I suck balls"

If UNC wins, I stand somewhere in Seoul holding a sign that reads, "UNC beat USC and I eat anus."

What do you think?

Ambassador Delicious (a long story to explain that one)

P.S. Of course we need photographs taken at each location and we'll go honor system in hopes that you don't just photoshop it in."
Sefton, unfortunately for all of you, is a coward and does not gamble. He replied:
"First of all, as you know, I don't gamble on games
involving my beloved Tar Heels.

Second of all, I can understand the humiliating aspect
of me holding a sign like that around here. I am after
all in the Bible belt. But for you to hold up a sign
in English in a public place in Korea clearly does not
generate the same amount of shame.
So bite me.

You eat anus anyway.

Sefton"


Having my name sullied in such a manner, I replied:

"There are actually a few foreigner districts that are mostly inhabited by English teachers and GIs. One of them, Itaewon, is like Las Vegas without the gambling. I would hold the sign there.

Second, the fact that I on more than one occasion have eaten cow anus is nothing to be ashamed of as it is a delicacy in Turkey. And the fact that I've tossed my fair share of sheep's salads is also nothing I am ashamed of. I lived in Riverdale for fucks sake. There was nothing else to do and it was a step up from the local women. (that last part is true too)"
Well it is a shame for all of you, because today would have been the day I stepped out into the public square and wore the sign.

However, Sefton did not want to bet.

Could have been a great picture ...


***


On a side note I am sorry for not writing as much as I should be. I promise you,dear readers, that within the next four days I will post at least two new posts and go back to a schedule of three posts a week. Coming up, "It's a special kind of chicken," and "Second place."

Wow, I'm bigger than Jesus here ...

or at least bigger than the fourth graders I teach. Except for that one, but she'll fail my class for that reason alone.

Yes America and rest of the world, I am somewhat settled in to Korean life. Let me give you the run down of the last few days (like any of you really care.)

I arrived in Korea March 1 and began a one week orientation session at a corporate retreat facility about one hour south of Seoul. There were 50 of us who had been hired to teach for the Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education who attended.

It was an awesome orientation for a few reasons, my most important is I made friends, some of whom teach in my area. (If that was the wrong usage of whom and you feel like pointing it out ... bite me. My vocabulary has gotten a lot worser since I done began teaching the Engrishee.)

On Thursday we finished the orientation and went in different buses to our new district offices within Seoul. There I met one of my co-teachers, one of three really nice Korean ladies who teach class with me and help explain grammar to the kids in Korean as well as dole out punishment.

Friday was the first day of school and normally I wouldn't show up fifteen minutes late my first day of work, but I was lost and even went to the wrong school. (No joke, I walked into a high school near mine, thought their vice principal was mine and asked where my office was.)

Fortunately, he pointed out where my school was and I was off.

I haven't done much at school over the last two days other than walk into classrooms and tell the students "Hello, I'm Mr. L. How are you today?"

But the kids go nuts seeing me. I think it's the first time many of them have seen a white person outside of the television.

They stop dead in their tracks in the hall way, bow and then wave to me screaming, "Hi."

It's like I'm a celebrity.

Today I even went on the school's morning talk show (though it's not really a talk show but televised announcements) and said hello. I was impressed too. They have fifth and sixth graders who put that show together, cut to different shot between the cameras and even patch it through to the school.

I don't even trust American children to look into a video camera yet alone use one.

There are a few drawbacks though. I don't have a regular Internet connection in my apartment yet, so whenever I can catch a signal (like now) will post. I should be on my class computer the rest of this week, so I will post more about my school, what I already think is the best idea in education that takes place in Korea and what my neighborhood is like.

Sayonara (I don't know the Korean words for goodbye yet),

James

But we had rice yesterday ...

and this morning. And this afternoon.

So I'm getting used to Korean cuisine, which is actually quit tasty, even in the cafeteria setting where I'm consuming it.

But it's been two days now and I've eaten rice with every meal. I like rice, I just don't know how many consecutive meals I can go eating it. But for you dear readers, I will tally the days in a row and consecutive meals I consume with rice. So far, two days, six meals.

Finally ...

I'm considered average height.

I made it here to Korea yesterday and at the aiport noticed how well I stand in. I'm not considered "tall" here as there were a few 5'10" Koreans walking around. They were in the minority though.

I can tell you instantly that for the first time in my life, I am at least of average, or dare I say, above average height.

I'm at a training facility in Suwon, about one hour south of Seoul. It's me and all the other teachers who came in to the district. Since we're all first timers with the district, we're getting a training course in what they expect, lesson delivery and most importantly, where to find the best dog meat sandwiches.

Postings will be spotty for the next week. Though I'm allegedly in the most internet wired country in the world, there seems to be no wifi in my room. MEH!

I'll try and add another post this weekend because me and my new fellow teachers are going to ... NOREBANG. Oh sorry, that's the Korean word for KARAOKE.

It's been so long since I've done karaoke. I can't wait to sing again. (Yes I sang live in Turkey a few times, but both artforms are great. Each brings their own set of advantages and disadvantages.)


James