SOooo behind again, I know. I started bringing my computer to school because in the evenings I have classes where the kids are just coming up to me to recite passages they have to memorize. Or they're done, and I tell them to at least speak English but when they're my favorite class, I end up laughing with them anyway. Still this was the ideal time to get some blogging done, since my breaks are either spent working on these schedules that were supposed to be finished at the beginning of September, or typing out vocab tests for one class with the English AND Korea-- I am 1-finger typing so it's tiring and takes a lot of time, but the Korean teachers are impressed as hell and I'm proud of myself for doing it too. Thank God I at least know a good bit of Hangul (as in reading & some writing-- I know the characters, can recognize them on the keyboard, and learned how to get the special characters). Sadly, I can't do that on my laptop because the school's computers have Korean/English keyboards, so that's just a bit easier than having to use some online, which still never seemed to have the ch- sounding character.
The main issue now is that my rosacea has gotten much worse. Not only are the pimple-like ones around my mouth not going away, but now the skin on either side of my nostrils is red and under my eyes has little pink bumps. Expats post that their skin hates Korea, and that is no fucking joke. The borax-hydrogen peroxide mask I was using in the US that worked like a charm has zero effect here. So this means going to a dermatologist.
Fortunately I mentioned this to Danielle (whom I hadn't seen in forever, but spent a lovely Sunday with her, her husband, cute little Leah & also got to meet Danielle's mom, who's in Korea visiting for about 2 months), and thank God I did, because she told me most dermatologists here aren't medical doctors, so instead of going to the hundreds/thousands of dermatology clinics here (which focus on cosmetic stuff, particularly skin whitening, because yeah, SUCH an Asian thing), you have to look at actual medical clinics.
Luckily I checked out a couple some other expats mentioned, and those searches brought me to the normally-ruled-by-trolls waygook.org expat site (it's seriously just assholes all day every day, it's a completely worthless site usually), but one person mentioned a clinic with a doctor who graduated from Johns Hopkins Medical School and speaks perfect English, and all the expats go to see him. So I'm going to see when I can get into see him.
Interestingly, it mentions on the site that in addition to internal and some external treatments, they also use something called fotofacials and chemical peels. I find it funny that I was like, how is a chemical peel going to help an inflammation problem, when I've been rubbing 19th-century laundry detergent and hydrogen peroxide on my skin, leaving it on for 10 minutes then rinsing off twice a day every day.
Anyway, you can call or email for an appointment, so I guess I'll send it off tomorrow, unless I take the chance and try to call, after mastering, "Do you speak English?" in Korean, and see when I can get in.
Other than that, I had a software download for my iPhone, and it was a rather big one. You know how they say on the iPhone 7 you don't swipe, you press the home key to unlock the phone? Now that's what mine does. It's taking some getting used to, but it's keeping me on my toes.
Friday, September 23, 2016
Monday, September 19, 2016
Damn it all to hell.
This is from the end of July
Last night, at last, was supposed to be the night that I figured out getting home in a taxi. Despite so not feeling ready for it, even after 7 months here. Because as I've mentioned before, nothing's as easy outside the US as it is in the US (though apparently there are city or suburb cabs in the airports, and they can only go to that specific destination, no others). So, getting a cab from one suburb, I've been told and experienced, isn't as simple a matter as just finding a free cab and even giving them your address in Korean. They'll say no because they're not going that way, it's too far/not convenient to home or break, or they just don't want to deal with someone who speaks a different language. Never mind whether or not they can actually go to... wherever you want/need to go.
This is the second night that, instead of experimenting with the cabs and discovering the ease or difficulty of it, regardless of proximity, I stayed up all night until public transport was up and running again.
The first time was when I went out with another Jennifer, a Brit I met at yoga pants wine night. I found a bona fide, really good craft cocktail bar, HARD AS HELL though it was to locate. We had a nice time talking, and then she said afterwards she was going to meet her school gang in Seoul. And the guys in particular are just so great and so fun and I'd love them. I decide to go up with her, but as it's 10:30 at night, knowing the trains stop at about midnight, I ask her how she gets home. "Take a cab, or stay up all night until the trains run again." Though I am a night owl, I definitely don't think the latter is an option for me. Especially with my phone, as usual, so low on battery, which is especially concerning since that's where my home address is saved in Korean.
We get to this crappy Korean bar, which honest-to-God all seem to vie to resemble the dankest dive bar in the US, to find about 10 of Jennifer's close friends gathered around. If you know me at all, you know that even with a really good friend there with me, anymore than 4 or so strangers is a bit too much for me to handle, and I will simply sit and observe, waiting to see whom I might like, and waiting to see if there's an in to any interesting conversations.
In this case, with a group of early-to-mid-20-somethings playing some lame drinking game, the answer appeared to be not really on most counts. I have no drink because I had 3 at the cocktail bar, and when it's Koreans handling the mixing and measuring, there is shit to drink here. Next, everyone in the group has to hold up a hand if they've done what was mentioned (jumped out of an airplane, for example). This sort of information is fun when you're young and have a life ahead of you to plan on doing such things should you want to, or give any shits if the people at the table have because it's somehow interesting to learn whether or not your friends have done something so daring. But I don't care about these people, and find none of what any of them have or haven't done enthralling or even slightly entertaining. The only thing that's keeping me here is waiting for my almost-dead phone to charge behind the bar so I can either test out this whole cab thing, or go to the nearby 24-hour cafe and fiddle around on my phone until the trains run.
Soon enough, most of the group is heading to Homo Hill (yes that's the actual name of the small gay bar section of Seoul) to dance. All of you should likewise know my feelings on dancing and noisy clubs, and how I am completely comfortable sitting alone for an hour or however long it takes my phone to charge. But of course, most people do not understand said comfort, and feel compelled to keep me company and try to cajole me into joining/rejoining the group. That night, the role belonged to a super-nice friend of Jennifer's named Mike. Most of the time, people's discomfort with my comfort being alone in public will quickly devolve from my polite but firm insistence that I'm fine to my cold, irritated, sarcastic and misanthropic vibes that successfully fend off even the clingiest moron. But tonight, maybe it's my mood, some mellowing-with-age, and/or the fact that Mike is just so truly nice and not trying to be an asshole that I initially reiterate for the 10th time that I'm good alone, and no, dancing and loud bars hold no appeal, to just saying sure dude, as you say, I can really only confirm it's as unappealing as I think by going over with him to meet up with everyone else, and besides, we've only around 3 hours before the trains are up and running again. So I collect my not-nearly-sufficiently-charged-for-my-reading-purposes phone, and head over to my first Korean gay bar.
The precious little dancing that is happening is solely being done by the group of girls & 2 guys who'd gone ahead. I have to admit I find it a bit sad that no gay guys, few that are there, are dancing. At this bar, I switch from swearing up & down that I'm totally good not dancing constantly, until thank GOD an older gay man comes & sits next to me & we start talking. He gets up & goes to talk to guys for a while then comes back to talk to me, which is great because it means I have a good excuse to sit, & then don't have to keep working so hard to only half-hear what Ilan, my new friend, is saying.
This goes on for a rather slow 2 hours. Finally, after several false starts of saying I'm leaving only to be convinced to wait a LITTLE longer, since you know those damned trains still aren't running, I end up talking to a few other guys assembled outside to smoke, & gladly take my leave.
But naturally, the trains still aren't QUITE running yet, so I sit down on the raised vent for the trains to wait for them. I have far more fun sitting here and having brief, amusing conversations with passersby, including a couple who want to know what to do, and some Middle Eastern guy who thinks I'm pretty and stops to talk, only to realize that this conversation, nor I, are going anywhere. Around this time, Jennifer & her friends pass me, and ask me to join them for early breakfast at the Taco Bell around the corner. I decline. I think it's around 2 minutes after they leave that some Irish guy asks me to go drinking with him. When I agree, he's surprised, & keeps asking me if I'm sure I'm not Irish. I explain it's going to be difficult, since it's just after 5 and everything is closing. Sure enough, every bar we find won't let us in for that reason. I suggest coffee but he is adamantly against this. We wander around, until we run into a rather morose gay guy I'd talked to at the gay bar before leaving. We convince him to join us for some vodka & grapefruit juice, which John Henry is buying. The convenience stores are always open & stocked. We sit outside in Gangnam & drink until we decide we're tired & can be assured the trains are running again.On the train, I laugh when John Henry tells me that I wasn't actually supposed to take him up on his invitation to drink. I was supposed to do what his gran does and say, "God damn it John Henry it's too feckin' early/late for this, shut up and go to sleep!" Sadly, John Henry & I don't keep in touch, but it was still a surprisingly fun end to a waaayyy to long night.
The other night was wine night. They're always on Fridays, so I get there around 10:30 since I work til ten on Fridays. It isn't really worth it for me to leave by the time the last train or bus, since I just got there & there are still a couple stragglers. For once I wasn't tired & we just kept talking til 5. Turns out that the cabs around there pretty much won't be going in my direction, so we decide that I'll just stay over next time, instead of ensuring we all stay up til 5-6 in the morning talking.
*Sight.* So, those were my 2 chances of attempting, but failing, to find a taxi that will take me home. Kids, I've been here about 8 months & still no dice. Let's hope I get it together & try sooner again, and successfully, rather than even later.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Today I feel like I was infected with anger and irritation
For one thing, it's the 15th anniversary of 9/11, and it's still a day I feel compelled to remember what happened and the people lost as a result of it. Most anniversaries I don't feel any emotions about it and it isn't the first thing I think about: some days I have to see reminders in facebook to remember. But I always take some moments on it. Yesterday though I remembered today would be 15 years later, so I did wake up aware of that.
Today was I think very much not helped because lately I've been exhausted by the US bashing everyone is so terribly fond of doing. I'm sure all of you know I'm pretty damned outspoken about a lot of the problems we're grappling with, or failing to, in the US. Though I often enjoy discussing these problems with people from other countries, there gets to be a point, and it's always closer than the day before, when I am just so sick and tired of the rest of the world ignoring their own problems so they can concentrate on the lunacy that often rules the US. I just don't want to hear it, or hear an acknowledgement that hey, sometimes the US DOES do good shit. And as I get older I do think that you can definitely have your opinions, but you should limit voicing them if you're not from there. Believe it or not, I didn't tell most Chileans what I thought of their country, and still don't. Because I'm a bitch, but I'm not a total asshole.
This morning my Australian friend Leeza who's in China just really pissed me off. As always, she starts off about how charmed her life is there, despite her town being bad when it comes to the internet, etc... all the things that I consider secondary essentials are challenges that require work-arounds, patience, and just accepting shit isn't always or usually going to work. So, I'm delighted for her that she's got people who bend over backwards to help her and glad she is liking it there. From there, it's on about how the Chinese can't distinguish not only between Australian/British/South African/German/American, and instead thinks everyone is American, they can't distinguish between well-educated and under- or uneducated, more prestigious professions, and less. I can understand being irritated everyone thinks you're from a country you're not from, but I don't get why the rest of it matters.
From there that went into how all the Chinese, and the rest of the world for that matter, totally buy the stereotypes, and thinks the US is the most dangerous place in the world, full of gun-obsessed, gun-toting lunatics shooting everyone everywhere up. I point out that this is a stereotype, that I'm from the city with the country's worst gun violence and most shootings, and yet somehow I made it all these years, along with many others, who never ever get shot, and recognize that we need drastic reform so freaking desperately. She replies she's just telling me what the rest of the world thinks (even though I so know that), and then condescendingly tells me how Australia banned all guns in the 80s or 90s, they're a recognized leader in getting rid of gun violence, blah blah blah. Bitch, I know. I've already read up on Australia so effectively fixing that problem there. But, she's not done: all mass shootings are in the US, and they in the rest of the world "just roll our eyes, and say that's America." She continues to say that she feels sorry for America now.
At this point, I'm done and I say, "You're right. The victims deserve it. And while many of us have been desperate for gun legislation for years, at heart we're all dangerous, gun-toting maniacs. I've got another eye-rolling American tragedy to think about today that simply annoys the rest of you, so off I go." Couldn't have been more sarcastic, and she breezily says, "Yes, I agree with you," (!!??? REALLY!?) and continues on to talk about learning a lot about how it won't change because of people in Congress being too afraid to lose their jobs to take it up.... etc.
Maybe she didn't mean to be offensive and victim-blaming and everything and say that ultimately each American shot in a mass shooting or shot at all deserves it for being stupid about not making these legislative changes years ago. Then again, maybe that is how the world feels, and maybe it's understandable to those on the outside. And today people from other countries very likely forget what happened today themselves and especially all these years out just don't care about it. But it never is understandable or forgettable to me, and today of all days I need GOOD vibes for and about the US.
So hope your day is better and less grating than mine, and hopefully it's a peaceful day regardless of your feelings, or lack thereof, about today's anniversary.
Today was I think very much not helped because lately I've been exhausted by the US bashing everyone is so terribly fond of doing. I'm sure all of you know I'm pretty damned outspoken about a lot of the problems we're grappling with, or failing to, in the US. Though I often enjoy discussing these problems with people from other countries, there gets to be a point, and it's always closer than the day before, when I am just so sick and tired of the rest of the world ignoring their own problems so they can concentrate on the lunacy that often rules the US. I just don't want to hear it, or hear an acknowledgement that hey, sometimes the US DOES do good shit. And as I get older I do think that you can definitely have your opinions, but you should limit voicing them if you're not from there. Believe it or not, I didn't tell most Chileans what I thought of their country, and still don't. Because I'm a bitch, but I'm not a total asshole.
This morning my Australian friend Leeza who's in China just really pissed me off. As always, she starts off about how charmed her life is there, despite her town being bad when it comes to the internet, etc... all the things that I consider secondary essentials are challenges that require work-arounds, patience, and just accepting shit isn't always or usually going to work. So, I'm delighted for her that she's got people who bend over backwards to help her and glad she is liking it there. From there, it's on about how the Chinese can't distinguish not only between Australian/British/South African/German/American, and instead thinks everyone is American, they can't distinguish between well-educated and under- or uneducated, more prestigious professions, and less. I can understand being irritated everyone thinks you're from a country you're not from, but I don't get why the rest of it matters.
From there that went into how all the Chinese, and the rest of the world for that matter, totally buy the stereotypes, and thinks the US is the most dangerous place in the world, full of gun-obsessed, gun-toting lunatics shooting everyone everywhere up. I point out that this is a stereotype, that I'm from the city with the country's worst gun violence and most shootings, and yet somehow I made it all these years, along with many others, who never ever get shot, and recognize that we need drastic reform so freaking desperately. She replies she's just telling me what the rest of the world thinks (even though I so know that), and then condescendingly tells me how Australia banned all guns in the 80s or 90s, they're a recognized leader in getting rid of gun violence, blah blah blah. Bitch, I know. I've already read up on Australia so effectively fixing that problem there. But, she's not done: all mass shootings are in the US, and they in the rest of the world "just roll our eyes, and say that's America." She continues to say that she feels sorry for America now.
At this point, I'm done and I say, "You're right. The victims deserve it. And while many of us have been desperate for gun legislation for years, at heart we're all dangerous, gun-toting maniacs. I've got another eye-rolling American tragedy to think about today that simply annoys the rest of you, so off I go." Couldn't have been more sarcastic, and she breezily says, "Yes, I agree with you," (!!??? REALLY!?) and continues on to talk about learning a lot about how it won't change because of people in Congress being too afraid to lose their jobs to take it up.... etc.
Maybe she didn't mean to be offensive and victim-blaming and everything and say that ultimately each American shot in a mass shooting or shot at all deserves it for being stupid about not making these legislative changes years ago. Then again, maybe that is how the world feels, and maybe it's understandable to those on the outside. And today people from other countries very likely forget what happened today themselves and especially all these years out just don't care about it. But it never is understandable or forgettable to me, and today of all days I need GOOD vibes for and about the US.
So hope your day is better and less grating than mine, and hopefully it's a peaceful day regardless of your feelings, or lack thereof, about today's anniversary.
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Well, yes, I suppose it HAS been a while...
I have a few drafts saved, but... yeah....
Anyway, THIS installment of Jen failing to understand/relate to/and especially share experiences with normal people is brought to us all by yet another expat talking about how rough it is to go home, particularly the terrible surprise that is reverse culture shock. When you've lived abroad, you supposedly come back and experience culture shock of your home, and the greater the difference between living-abroad country and your own, the bigger the shock.
My friend Alyssa came back to the US from Chile right about when I got there after about a year there. Her first post, which amused me, was her amazement over hearing so much English. It kind of... shocked her.
I have no comprehension of this.When I got back to the US, I was RELIEVED and OVERJOYED to hear English. I remembered extremely quickly that I could go up to pretty much any person I saw and ask them something in English and they'd understand me and answer in English. That was awesome. Not shocking, awesome. Something to marvel over and celebrate very, very occasionally, but that's it.
The only other time that I kind of forgot where I was was when I was on the L, waiting at a station for a train and was doing what I always did in Chile: practicing reading the names and signs at the stops in my head in Spanish for pronunciation. I was halfway through reading when I realized that no, Cermak/Chinatown isn't pronounced, "Keermok/Cheena-" it was the "town" that reminded me these were English words pronounced with English pronunciation, and I was working WAY too hard unnecessarily.
Marveling at how easy it was to use a credit card, and not be charged extra for the privilege. But it didn't shock me, and I didn't struggle with it. I embraced returning to fucking civilization.
There are no guarantees of course, but I highly, highly doubt I'll return to the US and experience the "shock" of hearing English everywhere, which is a big part of it for former expats, or forget how people acknowledge you and say, "Excuse me," if you bump into each other. I won't be shocked to see women wearing shirts cut lower than a turtleneck, people of different colors and backgrounds, particularly because it remains shocking to me that no matter how long I'm in Korea I will continue to get stares, and students I've had for 6 months get right in my face and say, "Teacher!! Your eyes are blue!!" (though honestly the latter always amuses me greatly). I think, people have been coming here to teach English for over 20 years. There are LOTS of non-Asians around. And you have movies and the internet! It can't REALLY be that amazing. It just can't. And while others have rightly pointed out that Koreans all look alike in the way of hair, eye color, etc., I never notice it, except when wondering how I'll spot the foreigner at a big metro stop, only for them to be fluorescent beacons compared to the Koreans around them, lol. So, actually, in essence, I never really acclimate to where I am, to seeing mostly straight black hair, dark brown eyes, tennis shoes and anklets worn with pantyhose and ridiculously short skirts and shorts, and Little House on the Prairie/Amish outfits thrown in.
So, yeah, maybe I need to write the single anti-former-expat-reverse-culture-shock experience, because as usual, I've read so many articles about how hard it is to get used to your culture of origins, but it just isn't true.
Except after France. I seriously thought every Goddamned person around me was yelling instead of talking like a normal person. For 2 weeks, I had a headache, and seriously dreaded going to see Gina's family the following weekend, because they ARE loud.
So, ok, maybe one or two things take you aback. But not everything, not so many things that it's oppressive and stressful and aggravating, which culture shock is.
So if you ever see any of those articles, know that I'm back here railing about how untrue it is, because despite ALL these stories about it being a thing, it is SOOOOOO not a thing.
Anyway, THIS installment of Jen failing to understand/relate to/and especially share experiences with normal people is brought to us all by yet another expat talking about how rough it is to go home, particularly the terrible surprise that is reverse culture shock. When you've lived abroad, you supposedly come back and experience culture shock of your home, and the greater the difference between living-abroad country and your own, the bigger the shock.
My friend Alyssa came back to the US from Chile right about when I got there after about a year there. Her first post, which amused me, was her amazement over hearing so much English. It kind of... shocked her.
I have no comprehension of this.When I got back to the US, I was RELIEVED and OVERJOYED to hear English. I remembered extremely quickly that I could go up to pretty much any person I saw and ask them something in English and they'd understand me and answer in English. That was awesome. Not shocking, awesome. Something to marvel over and celebrate very, very occasionally, but that's it.
The only other time that I kind of forgot where I was was when I was on the L, waiting at a station for a train and was doing what I always did in Chile: practicing reading the names and signs at the stops in my head in Spanish for pronunciation. I was halfway through reading when I realized that no, Cermak/Chinatown isn't pronounced, "Keermok/Cheena-" it was the "town" that reminded me these were English words pronounced with English pronunciation, and I was working WAY too hard unnecessarily.
Marveling at how easy it was to use a credit card, and not be charged extra for the privilege. But it didn't shock me, and I didn't struggle with it. I embraced returning to fucking civilization.
There are no guarantees of course, but I highly, highly doubt I'll return to the US and experience the "shock" of hearing English everywhere, which is a big part of it for former expats, or forget how people acknowledge you and say, "Excuse me," if you bump into each other. I won't be shocked to see women wearing shirts cut lower than a turtleneck, people of different colors and backgrounds, particularly because it remains shocking to me that no matter how long I'm in Korea I will continue to get stares, and students I've had for 6 months get right in my face and say, "Teacher!! Your eyes are blue!!" (though honestly the latter always amuses me greatly). I think, people have been coming here to teach English for over 20 years. There are LOTS of non-Asians around. And you have movies and the internet! It can't REALLY be that amazing. It just can't. And while others have rightly pointed out that Koreans all look alike in the way of hair, eye color, etc., I never notice it, except when wondering how I'll spot the foreigner at a big metro stop, only for them to be fluorescent beacons compared to the Koreans around them, lol. So, actually, in essence, I never really acclimate to where I am, to seeing mostly straight black hair, dark brown eyes, tennis shoes and anklets worn with pantyhose and ridiculously short skirts and shorts, and Little House on the Prairie/Amish outfits thrown in.
So, yeah, maybe I need to write the single anti-former-expat-reverse-culture-shock experience, because as usual, I've read so many articles about how hard it is to get used to your culture of origins, but it just isn't true.
Except after France. I seriously thought every Goddamned person around me was yelling instead of talking like a normal person. For 2 weeks, I had a headache, and seriously dreaded going to see Gina's family the following weekend, because they ARE loud.
So, ok, maybe one or two things take you aback. But not everything, not so many things that it's oppressive and stressful and aggravating, which culture shock is.
So if you ever see any of those articles, know that I'm back here railing about how untrue it is, because despite ALL these stories about it being a thing, it is SOOOOOO not a thing.
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