Don't Talk to Me

Being a generally introverted person and all around awkward, I hate speaking to strangers. In any country and any language. Small talk makes me uncomfortable. The idea of a long elevator ride makes me panic and anything more than a passive 'thank you' to someone holding the door is just too much. It's a lot of pressure. Back at home, I don't have to do much to avoid talking to strangers. However, in Korea it's obvious that I am here to teach English, so why wouldn't I want to continue doing so in my free time? In social situations, like out at bars or on group excursions, I don't mind. But when I am shopping, on the subway, or walking around, leave me alone.

Teachers will often employ a few tactics to avoid being used for English practice.

Defense 1: MP3 player. Earbuds/massive headphones firmly in place, all noises can be blocked. Even if the volume isn't loud enough to drown out surrounding voices, earbuds send a clear signal that you are not to be disturbed.

Defense 2: Hiding behind a book. We're antisocial and well read.

Defense 3: Sunglasses or eye avoidance. If they can't meet your eyes, there's no way they can start a conversation, right?

Defense 4: Anger. No one wants to talk to someone who looks like they're ready to throw a punch.

While these methods are usually effective, some persistent people get through the cracks. I was once trapped talking to a middle schooler for 30 minutes on the subway. James spoke almost fluent English, but remember that I'm not friendly. He noticed me the second I stepped on the subway. He crossed the car and sat across from me and I continued to avoid eye contact. I had earbuds and my book, but I could see him staring at me in the corner of my eye. He then moved to the empty seat next to me, turning his body to face me. I pretended to be engrossed in my book. Moments later, he started talking to me, loud enough to ensure I could hear him over my music. I sighed and took out an earbud. There was no going back.

Strangely, we were both twins and he went to the same Taekwondo academy as my ex-coteacher. Our topics included school, sports, my insomnia, his gnarled fingernails, and my parents' upcoming visit. He then made an assumption. I paused for a moment then started to correct him. But then I thought better. So in one of my most shining Korean moments, I let him believe.

James: Where will you and your boyfriend take them?
Me: *pause* Oh, you know. *pause* Seoul, and mostly Daejeon. My mother isn't able to travel much.
James: They must be excited to meet your boyfriend.
Me (still hesitant): Ooooh, yes.
James: Where does he work?
Me (by this time I'm more comfortable with my lie): Oh, Mike works in a hagwon in Dunsan-dong. I don't remember the name. We don't talk much about work.
James: He sounds like a nice guy.
Me: Oh, yes he is.

Oh, the lies. If I start a sentence with 'oh' I may be lying. James was a nice boy, and I promised that if I ever saw him around Noeun, I'd say hello. He was probably the best unwanted conversation I've had here, but I'm pretty good at avoiding speaking unless absolutely necessary. Many days I don't speak outside of work, except for broken Korean when picking up dinner, which doesn't bother me a bit.

Perhaps some day I'll be friendly and be more willing to talk to strangers. But I don't think that will happen anytime soon.

Toilet Rating System

Finding a decent public toilet in Korea can be tricky, and I've devised my own rating system for those I do find. Keep in mind Korea is not a third world country, but I suppose toilets just aren't a priority. Restaurants and shops don't have their own facilities, instead you must go out and find a public toilet, usually in the building hallway or on the first floor of an officetel. These are not usually well stocked because no one business is responsible for them.

One star: Stall with a western toilet. Squatters are quite common, but not the easiest to use. Especially when combined with alcohol.

Two stars: Western toilet with tissue. Often there is no paper in public bathrooms, so I've taken to carrying tissues in my purse. On the issue of tissue it's typical to have one dispenser outside of several stalls. If you forget to take some, you're out of luck once you get in. Tissue is also thrown away in small bins next to the toilet. Do not flush your tissue!

Three stars: Western toilet with tissue and soap. Wearing shoes inside the house is dirty, but using soap is not seen as necessary. I consider this to be the trifecta. Hard to find, but everything I need without supplementing with my own supplies. My school toilets are three stars.

Four stars: Western toilet with tissue, soap, and towels. By now I'm used to just air drying or wiping my hands on my pants.

Five stars: Western toilet, tissue, soap, towels, and hot water. Rare, but beautiful. I understand that heating water can be expensive, but my fingers turn numb and stay numb because it's so cold outside and in my school. The Five Star Toilet is hard to find. I think I found one in a Starbucks once, but they are few and far between.

My home toilet is a Five Star, but only if I turn on my water heater...

The Day I Thought North Korea Attacked

As I lay fitfully dreaming one morning, I was suddenly jolted out of bed by a blaring siren. Living in South Korea, my first thought was that North Korea was attacking. Here's a rundown of my panic.

11.00 Immediately, I hurried to the window and not being awake yet, ran into my sliding patio door as I tried to open it. Standing on my tiptoes to see past the apartment building filling my window, I looked to the sky for smoke.

11.01 Seeing no smoke, I ran into the sliding door again in my haste to my computer. I googled "North Korea attacks."

11.02 Finding no recent news pieces, I texted the other foreigner living in my building.

11.03 Panic moves to confusion as the sirens continue.

11.05 I receive a return text and she reminded me of what she had told me when I first moved here. Occasionally, the nearby firehouse will run drills, using air raid sirens.

11.07 The sirens become more than irritating.

11.10 The sirens finally stop. After ten minutes of air raid sirens, I'm ready to shove a pencil in my ear.

There's quite a few reasons why it was ridiculous of me to think N.Korea was attacking. However, having been asleep, I was unable to use my brain. In the end, I'm thankful it was just a firehouse drill and not something dangerous.