Wtf, kid?

Bill Cosby had a show about kids saying the darndest things. Spending seven hours a day around kids, I can tell you that kids don't say cute and charming things, they say some pretty strange things. I started keeping a small notebook with me so I could write them down. Here are a few of my favorites.

Soul: America people are like pig.
Me: Why?
Soul: Because they like food.
Me: Do Korean people not like food?
Soul: (no answer)

Me: Monkey, what happened to your face?
Monkey: I got into a fight.
Me: With who?
Monkey: A tree.
Me: Who won?
Monkey: The tree...

"My mom has a magic hole! I want it!"
The Magic Hole is a Korean cell phone

Diary entry:
"Today we go to rectum. And we help my fathers work. First, clean. Second, fold a box. Third, put in oranges."
I think her father works in a store. At least I hope so.

Me: Good try, Cloe, but this could use a little help.
Cloe: But...but...I'm pretty.

Following a conversation about boyfriends and girlfriends
Julie: Teacher, my school teacher is Neil, from Ireland. I like him. He's good.
Me: Oh, does he have a girlfriend?
Julie: No, he has a boyfriend!!
Me: A boyfriend?
Julie: Yeah, he has black color skin and he's tall!
Me: How tall?
Julie, jumping out of her chair to show me: Two meters!
This conversation was surprising because being gay is mostly not okay in Korea. Some of my students tell me that gay people are evil and have mental defects. Seriously.

Me: Can anyone tell me a type of nut?
Students: Peanut! Chestnut!
Julie: Donut.
Me: *high five*

Boy, singing: Hallelujah, it's raining...
Me: Men?

Holding pieces of paper with this written:
I am fool ------>
I am crazy <------

After smacking another guy on the butt
Jang: He saw my panties! Did you see my panties color?
MJ: Blue? White?
Jang: Pink!

"Teacher, your body is very big, but your face is so small!"

Following a conversation about a very skinny boy in class
*Rapid Korean, my name interjected often*
Me: What are you talking about?
Class: Your face. We are talking about how faces look different when skinny.
Me: ....
Class: Your face is pretty.
Me: But only if I were skinny?
Class: *too long of a pause*....no! Of course not!
Me: I hate you. I hate you all.

Kevin: There is a bad smell.
Me: *subtly sniffs armpit*
Billy: Teacher, you have good smell!

Euddum: *stares intensely at me* Teacher, your skin is too white, your eyes are too big, your mouth is too small, and your nose is too small.
Me: Thanks?
Euddum: I want.

"On the cunt of three..."

Why I really want a freaking dryer right about now

I need to be packed for China in fewer than 24 hours, yet I won't have dry clothes. I washed a load this morning, and set it out on the rack, leaving my heat on while I was at work. I came back tonight and not even the t-shirts are dry. I feel I'm going to be sitting on my floor with a hairdryer at 4am tomorrow while I desperately try to get the clothes dry enough to pack.

Many Koreans do without dryers. In the beginning this was a-okay with me, since I'm a fan of air-drying. My apartment came with a good sized drying rack, and just enough room in the back patio area for it to be set up. With the summer sun and large window, my clothes dried within a day. However, 'summer' came. I use quotes because in my mind, rain doesn't happen in summer. Every other day of the year, yes. For weeks at a time? Yes. With darkness and gloom? Boy, I miss it. But it does not rain in July and August. Those are the vitamin D days. Not so in Korea. Summer is rainy season. And that brings moisture and humidity. Drying started to take longer. And longer.

The weather cooled down for a pleasant autumn. I thoroughly enjoyed all three weeks of our beautiful fall weather. Drying time was down to a respectable amount of time. Then 'winter' came. The quotes are used this time to allow the reader to know this is not winter. It's living in an ice cube tray. Clothes don't dry, they freeze. I put a load in this afternoon before leaving for work and came home to find it in a frozen lump in the bottom of the washer. I had to move my drying rack to my main room because my clothes would take three or more days to dry. Now, if I need to get to my dresser, I move the rack. Then when I want to go to bed, I move the rack again.

Cozy, right?

In the main room, with the heat on, they dry within two days. This still takes careful forethought, planning for what clothes will be needed in the upcoming week. I don't do that. Because it is such a hassle, I wait until my laundry basket is full and cram it all in the washer, sometimes not even bothering to sort darks and lights. Sometimes my lack of planning results in my having to do two loads, which is too many clothes for the rack to handle. Then it looks like my closet has thrown up all over the walls because I need to hang things from hooks.

When my parents came to visit, their hotel had a dryer. I did not take advantage of it and am kicking myself. I wonder if the desk staff would notice if I just went in now and used it. Maybe they'd think I'm a guest. With that dryer, I could rule the world. Warm, fluffy clothes can do a lot for a person.

Korean Peculiarities: Frozen Pipes

For the second time this winter, I have no hot water. Literally, no water. Turning the faucet to the cold side gives me icy water, but as soon as I inch it over to hot, nothing. The water stops flowing. Sometimes a few drops will sputter out, but generally no water. This is strange for two reasons. Firstly, Korea uses ondal heating, which is a system of hot water pipes crisscrossing under the floor. This hot water works. At least I have heat. Secondly, the cold water is still flowing though the pipe to my faucet. How is only the hot water pipe frozen? I would think that would remain unfrozen longer than the cold water pipe.

Frozen pipes are sadly common. At any given time, I generally have at least one friend without heat. My co-teacher was without for nearly three weeks. Night temperatures can be as low as -20 degrees Celsius (-4F) and it hasn't really been above freezing for a while. Logically, a country with cold winters would insulate pipes, in order to prevent freezing. But not Korea. One more time for emphasis: Korea does not insulate their pipes. The last time my hot water wasn't working, my boss came to fix it because the wait list for a repairman was more than a week.

We find ways to do without. We bum off our friends. I could shower at the gym, but given that I won't even wear shorts, public nudity is not an option. So instead I leave the comfort of my apartment and walk to a friend's place, which is forever away when you're freshly showered and walking in the cold. Pajama parties are coming back into fashion. And my favorite coping method is the Whore's Bath, also known as a gas station shower or a sink shower. Now that I've learned the term 'whore's bath,' I find every opportunity to use it.

Korean Peculiarities: Slippery Sidewalks

Korea is wet for roughly 4-6 months of the year. There is an average of 44.6 inches of precipitation a year in Daejeon, which is about seven inches more than Portland. July is the wettest month, with just over 9 inches of rain. Korean summer rain is not like Portland rain. Portland drizzles, conserving water to make an entire week miserable. Korea streamlines this process and uses the same amount of water in an afternoon. I stay drier in the shower. Umbrellas are helpful, but your pants and shoes still get soaked.

Winter has snow and ice. This snow and ice is also different than home. It's dry, powdery snow. Useless for snowballs, but fun to kick around. Since it's fairly cold and Koreans care so little about playing in the snow that two weeks after the initial snowfall, I can still find clean snow to jump around in.

Now you're educated on Korean precipitation. Korea = generally wet weather. Please take a minute and pretend you are a city planner presented with the task of choosing a proper sidewalk design and appropriate materials. Concrete? Brick? Maybe the cushy crushed up tires? Certainly not granite or any other slick material, right?

Wrong. Meet your doom.

It's lovely to look at, but deadly as soon as any moisture is introduced. Or even without proper treaded shoes in dry weather. Perhaps this is the origin of the Korean Shuffle Walk.

It's not uncommon to see people slipping on the street. Korean women's shoes are very cute and fun, but none too practical on slick sidewalks. I have flailed about a bit, but have yet to fall. It snowed again today and earlier I tried to walk into a restaurant only to find I couldn't make it up the slight incline to the door. After several embarrassing attempts, I finally made it to the steep metal ramp in front of the door. Then I struggled again. In the end, I just jumped up to the top of the ramp and in through the door.

The sidewalks have been iced for weeks now, the layer growing thicker with each new snowfall. I'm taking bets on how thick it will get before Spring time. My guess is a solid two, maybe three inches. Hopefully I won't fall on my ass. I'm sure I will, though. With these slippery sidewalks, it's inevitable.

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.