Things I Miss About the States

My dear readers, it has dawned upon me that if my blog is your only source of what the score is in the game called "Meg's Life" then you most likely think that I spend all of my time hiking and teaching. Admittedly, this is not a bad guesstimate. I do enjoy the time I spend on the mountainside and I love to share it with you! However, another hiking post would just be bore-0-rama. "Oh great, she went up a mountain, oh look a picture of pollution. How wonderful, a picture of a sweaty, tired Meg."

I have realized that I've left out my favorite part of my posts, the part where I talk about things I miss about the states.

We begin with T-9: Now, for anyone reading this post who is over eehhhh say, 35 years old? You might not know what T9 is. In a nutshell, T9 is little man who lives in cell phones who magically finishes words that you start typing in a text. For example, if you wanted to type the word "cosmic," you start hitting 267624 and somewhere along the way, the little man figures out that you want "cosmic" and he finishes it for you! This little man has the entire dictionary memorized and when used correctly, he's a brilliant timesaver. He's also only brilliant, I imagine, in English-speaking countries. My cell phone here in Korea knows Korean as its first language and the little T9 man is nowhere to be found. But what can be found is a frustrated Meg struggling to see what's on her screen and quite deliberately hitting the wrong buttons on her Korean cell phone. A text that took me 15 seconds to type out in America now takes me about a year.

Waiters: The food industry here is so different than in the states. First, there is no tipping, which I've discovered to be mostly fantastic. I say mostly fantastic because when you take tipping away from the playing field, you also remove the motivation for extra-ordinary service. In America, it's all about the eyes. You have to catch your waiter's eye and go from there. In Korea, it's all about the "YOGIYO!" "Yogiyo" means "here" in Korean. You literally yell that to get someone to come over to your table. At first it was a bit jarring to just see people yelling at the wait staff. I don't know if I'll ever be completely comfortable with it, but it's not as odd now. Koreans also aren't too big on beverages. Cups for water are itty-bitty and they never give you refills unless you do the "YOGIYO!"

Not being stared at: I know, readers, I know. I've mentioned this about 17 times. The fact remains; I will never ever get used to being stared at.

Salad: Salads here are like Fazoli's interpretation of Italian food. Pathetic. And you don't even get free breadsticks.

Root beer: Actually, the soda here generally tastes better than in America. I think I've heard that it's because they use better sugar to make it. I have no idea if that's true, but it sounds legit. But soda choices are limited and my favorite soda that makes me feel like I'm still 11 years old is nowhere to be found.

My nephew: Little booger just turned 1. and he has teeth. I canNOT believe I'm missing the chompers.

Spring at ND: I realized that one of my most favorite feelings is waking up and realizing that the winter freeze is over and the thaw of spring has been working its magic on Notre Dame's campus. There is nothing quite like walking down North Quad to Tom Petty blaring out of someone's dorm window and joining your pals playing frisbee or juggling a soccer ball. Being able to don short sleeves and shorts, or seeing one of your friends racing to class on a scooter just makes you feel like Bookstore Basketball is in the air.

Things I do NOT miss:
Allergies: Seoul is roughly comprised of about 80% concrete and 19% pollution, which leaves approximately 1% for anything that could make me sneeze. Meg's allergies are pretty severe so my sinuses are in heaven over here.

I leave you now with a video that I took of my kindergarten a few weeks ago:

Dobongsan

About a month ago (I know, timely blogging, Meg!) I went for a nice little hike with Sarah at Dobongsan, which is a mountain in the same range as Suraksan, just a little north of Seoul. You can see Suraksan from the top of Dobongsan. It was a crisp 50 degrees and zero chance of rain, a perfect day for a little hiking. I went out in my oh-so-lame hiking “gear” of course attracting skeptical up-down gazes from expertly tricked out Korean hikers. I feel like a rookie in the big leagues, still using the baseball mitt my dad gave me and all of the veterans are chuckling to themselves, “I wonder how long she’ll last in those… (snicker snicker) New Balances. Ha ha ha! Let’s watch!”

But really, Koreans who you find on the trails of mountains are the nicest ones you come across. Everyone in the city is always on task, has an agenda, has to be somewhere, busy, important and most importantly, busy. Everyone’s checking their cell phones, yelling in Korean, shuffling around to make sure they’re on the right bus, subway, or stealing taxis and the best part is, they all do it in heels. But out on the mountain, even though you feel like you’re in the middle of a hiking apparel fashion show, you find the people most willing to say hello, ask where you’re from, if you like Korea, if you like hiking, etc. If you’re wondering where all the friendly Koreans are, they’re all hiking.

Anyway, as mentioned earlier, Dobongsan is in the same range as Suraksan and it’s really close to the city so all we had to do was take the subway there and walk to the park. We stopped at the information desk to get a trail map and the woman mapped out a trail for us that took us up to one landing and past a temple.

The temple was absolutely breathtaking. It sits on a cliff that is nestled into a fold of the mountainside. I’m really hazy on the details of the temple but I do know that it is Buddhist and just absolutely beautiful. It was about halfway up the mountain and there was a “grotto” type place that you walk through to get to the actual buildings. There were tons of candles and people praying. There were three buildings, that I could see, and a very big balcony with a “ceiling” of lanterns above it. Sarah and I were nervous about disturbing solemnity of it so we didn’t take too many pictures or linger for very long. We stayed long enough to make wishes and toss coins into a fountain and then we moved on.

The rest of the hike was pretty uneventful. We reached a vista about ¾ of the way up the mountain, rested, and ate some kimbap. The top was similar to Suraksan, just bare-faced rock with a metal railing to hold onto in order to teach the top.

The last 100 meters or so were precariously steep and there were a few people who were warning us about ice on the rocks. At the time I was young, foolish and invincible so I charged on. Sarah was wise, cautious and sensible and didn’t make it all the way to the top this time. But! We went again the weekend after and she was determined to make it up the last bit, and she did. Yay Sarah!

All in all, Dobongsan is one of my favorites. It’s easy to get to; there are many different trails to choose from and it’s as easy or hard as you decide to make it.

Hiking in SK!

The geography of SK is pretty mountainous and South Koreans love hiking so much that they’re married to it. But seriously, the hiking here is really popular and South Koreans are the best dressed hikers you will ever see. They all look like ninjas powering to the top with their expert hiking gear. Most are really friendly and they all like to chuckle when they see an American hiking in tennis shoes and a long-sleeved tshirt. This picture to the right is the view of Seoul from the top of Suraksan.

I've been up three mountains now, one is called 송리산 (Songnisan) and is about 2 hours outside of Seoul by bus; and the second is 술락산 (Suraksan) and located in Seoul about an hour away from me on the subway; and the third is 도봉산 (Dobongsan) which is in 북한산 (Bukhansan) National Park right next to Suraksan and you can read about Dobongsan in the next blog post.

A big group of us went to Songnisan from Cheongju the night before we hiked it. This was a few weeks ago I think. It’s in a different province about two and a half hours out of Seoul. We took a bus into the little village at the base of the mountain and found a nice little minbok to spend the night in. A minbok is comparable to a hostel in that it's extremely affordable, but it's basically just an extra room in someone's house. We ventured off the beaten path and wandered around until we found it. I think I was spoiled in my first minbok experience because I'm pretty sure this was the most clutch* minbok ever. It was a big room with a heated floor, two huge wardrobes full of blankets and pillows (no beds, so we all slept on the floor), a TV and a VCR which I wasn't sure still existed after 1998 and more than an ample amount of terrible American VHS tapes with Korean subtitles. If memory serves, a couple of the treasures were Sister Act II and Roadhouse with the Swayze.**

Sunday morning, we woke up at the crack of noon and began the journey. The walk up the to where the hike starts was interesting. I saw lots of families, people selling hiking gear on the side of the street, street food vendors and lots of kids running up to us yelling "Hi! Bye!" which I've now grown pretty accustomed to. It's now really unusual if that doesn't happen to me in public. The best part of it was simply the fact that I wasn’t surrounded by pavement, concrete, neon lights and people trying to sell me a cell phone. There were actual trees! Grass! Granted, it’s too early for there to be any significant growth, but seeing dead trees and grass was enough to give my spring-loving hope a kick in the ribs. At the base of the mountain is a famous Buddhist temple called 법주사 (Beopjusa) and many people come here to pray. This picture of the big golden statue is part of Beopjusa at the base of the mountain. The statue is gilded with 80 kilograms of gold. The atmosphere at the base of the mountain was very solemn and respectful. However, once we started the hike, I witnessed quite the egregious 180-degree turn.

The hike itself starts about a mile or so from the village at the base and I'm not even going to try to sugarcoat how it went: Meg. Got. Her. Butt. Kicked. Big time. Our group was four guys and two girls and the two girls were quickly abandoned behind. I was more than exhausted when we made it all the way up. I think it took us about 2 and a half hours to reach the top, but ooohhhh boy, once we did, it was absolutely breathtaking. I think I took about a zillion pictures; I've posted a few of the better ones here. This picture is of my friend Chris buying our tickets.

Now, describing the hikers who we were sharing this beautiful mountain with is going to be fun and herein embodies the aforementioned “180 degree turn.” Think of the tiniest Korean man you've ever seen. Then give him some tiny Korean friends. Put them in black ninja gear and give them backpacks about 10 inches taller than their heads, huge hiking boots, rosy cheeks and then feed them lots of alcohol. That's your average fellow hiker on these mountains. Evidently, it's pretty normal to go hiking with one or two buddies and once you reach the top, you share a few (read: 17) bottles of soju. For all of you curious readers, soju is Korea's interpretation of vodka. It is weaker and tastes a lot smoother than actual vodka, but makes you feel like death the next day. To everyone reading this who I call Mom and Dad: this information does not come from personal experience. I hear tell of this mystical beverage but have yet to partake, so rest easy.***

Thus concludes the part about Songnisan and we move on to Suraksan.

Suraksan is a mountain located in Seoul, quite a bit north of me. I met up with Sarah and Phil and we took the subway to the base of the mountain. This one wasn’t nearly as steep as Songnisan so Meg did not get her butt kicked. It was a beautiful day, just a bit chilly. About three quarters of the way up the mountain there was a woman selling popsicles from a cooler and I may or may not have professed my undying love to her. I told her that we would be back after making it to the top and that she’d be giving us our victory popsicles, of which I’m sure she understood diddly-squat. Suraksan is near the northern edge of Seoul, so there was only so much I could see through the pollution. Nonetheless, a pretty remarkable view of the city.
Captions for these three photos:
The first was taken from the top of Suraksan and it is a temple that sits atop another peak of Suraksan. The foggy mountain behind that one is Dobongsan, which I hiked with Sarah just this past weekend.
The second is of me and Sarah before we started the hike of Suraksan. And the third is Sarah trying not to fall down the mountain. Pretty much the last 100 meters of Suraksan was just barefaced rock with a rope guardrail to hold on to and pegs hammered into the rock to step on. Not for the Average Joe seeking a leisurely stroll.

It makes me laugh how seriously Koreans take hiking. I mean, they literally all traipse around decked out in the sharpest North Face gear they can find, huge hiking boots, walking poles that look like cross country skiing poles and backpacks full of goodness knows what. Their backpacks are stuffed, but I’ve never seen a Korean with anything but kimbap, water or soju on the mountains. I feel like the best way to describe Koreans is that they’re always dressed as if they are ready for a spy photographer to pop out of the shadows and just start snapping away. Decked out head to toe on the street is one thing, but even when they’re exercising, they just look dapper as ever. This explains why they look at me and just think I look as silly as a baby holding a newspaper.

* Clutch - used to describe situations that have the potential to completely disintegrate but somehow become exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. For example, one might overhear during football season: "We snuck in 14 bags of marshmallows and just when everything started flying, this usher comes over and puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Excuse me, young lady." I turned to see what he wanted. "You dropped this," he said as he handed me a bag that had dropped out of my sweatshirt. Totally clutch." (Also, to the ones I call Mom and Dad, not a personal experience. People talk. I hear things.)
**Patrick Swayze, nicknamed “The Swayze,” (pronounced “sways.”)
*** wink! But really, it’s a death sentence.

An Elite Update

IT WAS 72 DEGREES IN SEOUL ON SATURDAY!

Anyway, hello friends and family! It certainly has been a while since my last post. My apologies; I've been putting in a lot of time at Elite lately. We officially opened the kindergarten on March 1st and since then it's been a non stop debacle around the office. A simple word of advice to anyone thinking about working abroad for any period of time: In addition to the language barrier and obvious speedbumps that you will encounter along the way, keep in mind that much like the variance between cultures, there are also differences in managerial styles of different countries which will no doubt frustrate your socks off. For example, there are three "secretaries" working at Elite and each one has a different job but none of them know what their actual duties are. This leads to a lot of confusion about who has superiority in certain situations and who is supposed to do what. And to add to the chaos, in South Korea there are strict social hierarchical undercurrents that have to be taken into calculation whenever you're in a situation with people of different ages. To add to the muddle, my interim director speaks pretty terrible English and she exhibits no teaching experience, which I would think should be two dealbreakers when you're hiring someone to run an ENGLISH SCHOOL. But hey, let's just hire wrenches to throw at our teachers, that seems to be the theme in Korea. Lesson learned: bring lots of socks.

Now, kind readers, I don't want you getting the wrong impression about my experiences in SK. The actual kids I am teaching are precious, adorable, a joy, wonderful, smart and always nonstop entertainment, if nothing else. Starting with the Kindergarten, let's play a game, raise your hand if you can see Meg Paladino being a kindergarten teacher. If your hand is raised, you need to go back to Megucation 101. The idea of me teaching kindergarten is like imagining a cat trying to sit in a rocking chair. I've got no idea what I'm doing and I basically just make up how to keep my balance every day. I thought this would be a bad thing at the very beginning, but as it turns out, if you are patient, funny and are willing to make a complete buffoon of yourself teaching Big B to little munchkins, hard work pays off. This week, my kids successfully read their first words in English.

Buh... Ahh... Duuhh. Ok, put it all together! "Teacher! Bad!"

Most of the kids already know the alphabet, but reading and sounding out words is foreign (haha! get it? foreign? cuz it's English!) to them. Pretty awesome and rewarding to see them forming words from letters.

You also need a certain "roll with the punches" attitude. This past week I had a kid put a booger in my hand. She evidently picked her nose in class and wanted to share the fruits of her labor with me. "Eacher! Eacher! Yogiyo!" (read: Teacher! Teacher! Here!) I totally lost my "Kindergarten teacher" facade and ran to the bathroom to wash my hands.

Moving on, teaching the older kids still remains to be the high point of my day. I have six classes and three private lessons. Obviously, you are always going to have a kid here and there who just wakes up wondering what he/she can do to just really push Meghan Teacher's buttons. But more often than not, they're good kids who make me smile every day. Even though I am putting in a lot of hours the most difficult part of my day is dealing with my director. The kids themselves are little Asian bundles of joy who sometimes do their homework.

Pictures of my students are on the way.

Spending a Day with Kids from an Orphanage

This post is dedicated to mothers and fathers.  Stop panicking, you haven't forgotten Mothers' or Father' Day; and no, I'm not jumping the gun.  This post, more specifically, is dedicated to my mother and father.  (insert collective "aww" here.")  The definition of foreign is "strange or unfamiliar," and nothing is more opposite from foreign than your own parents.  This is not as non sequitur as it appears and here is why:

Last week, my school played host to about 20 kids from an orphanage in Pyongtaek, a city close to Seoul, for about four hours.  These four hours made me laugh, almost cry, gasp in shock and basically jolted me back to recalling a few different memories.  My interim director's church is very involved with this orphanage and a few times a year each child is matched up with a mother and her family and spends a few days with them.  This time, she decided to volunteer the services of her English-speaking employees and had us "teach" them English for free for a few hours.  This quickly turned into how much can we think of to distract them from beating each other up.  Two teachers from another branch of Elite joined us and we spent every minute of the four hours either completely overexaggerating the gestures of "head, shoulders, knees and toes" or breaking up fights or playing rock, paper, scissors.  I will elaborate on a few of the more poignant moments of this experience.

First, this brought back memories I didn't even know I had of when Annette, Sarah and Hannah came from Korea.  I was itty-bitty back then, but I do remember a bit of what it was like when they came.  Along with finding a new friend in "My-Age" (what I called Annette when she arrived), I remember the rough, aggressive and possessive tendencies.  And I saw all of the same last Tuesday.  I am guessing that these kids were between 7 and 12 and I've never seen kids more rough or scrappy.  They fought continually over the smallest things with not just loud screams, but with hits, punches, kicks and slaps.  If the Paladino kids had a tagline throughout their childhood, it was, "Hit NO! Geeeennnnntttllllee" and this is where it came from.  

Secondly, their concept of possessions is utterly redefined from ours.  We had a snack time and it was like seeing a ham hock thrown into a cage of starving rabid hyenas.  There was no sharing and a lot of "Mine! Mine! Not yours!"  Survival of the fittest appeared to be the only governing principle.

Lastly, what really struck me was a girl named Jiwoo who was 11 years old, the same age as Daniel*, the boy with whom I worked very closely during my summer in New Orleans.  Backstory: Daniel is an incredibly sharp and bright boy.  He was a resident of Boys Hope Girls Hope, the academically focused group home that I was a proud and fortunate intern/member of for one summer.  Daniel joined BHGH because a family friend recommended him for the program after he was found going door to door asking for canned food for his family.  At the time, Daniel was only 7 years old and the only hearing member of his family.  The point of me sharing this is that not just Daniel, but most kids who don't have a steady, stable and loving family environment often easily cling and attach themselves with surprising ease and eagerness to anyone who gives them attention.  Daniel was a huge part of my life that summer because during the months I was there, I was a motherly figure for him.  This young girl, Jiwoo who came to Elite last week, clung to me for the duration of the four hours like I was home base.  It was amazing that all I was doing was laughing and playing rock, paper, scissors with her and in the span of those four hours she reached out and touched my heart in such a unique way.

This, my good reader, is why this post is dedicated to my parents.  The absence of my safety net for 23 years became so real last week as I was spending time with these children who have no parents.  They behaved with no fear of punishment and as if they had no hope for a better future.  My wildest imagination could never conceive of such a mindset existing in my own head, which is a reality that I will boldly blame on my parents.  It was like someone threw a bucket of ice-cold water at my head and I realized how close I was to being in Jiwoo's place, clinging to anyone who gave me attention.  Suddenly, a reality that I have been living with for 23 years gave me a kick in the ribs, was redefined and a profoundly deep appreciation for my parents settled in.  For those of you who know me well, you know my parents are amazing people and I am who I am because of them. Thanks Mom and Dad. oh, and Happy Birthday Dad.

*Daniel is a fictitious name given to protect his identity.

Seoul Tower

Greetings readers!  My, my, it has been quite a while.  There is much to tell and little time before my eyes start to droop and I find myself asleep with my face on the keys.

A few weekends ago, my friends, Amber, Tiya, Rachel and I decided to visit the famous Seoul Tower.  Seoul Tower, also known as Namsan Tower, is a tall communications construction on top of a mountain in the middle of Seoul.  It stands a little over 2,000 feet above sea level and gives a spectacular view of the city at night.  The pollution is too thick to enjoy anything during the day, a sad reality, but the view at night is breathtaking.  We met up at a restaurant at the base of the mountain and had some delicious bulgogi and bibimbap.  Then, we caught a cab to take us up the mountain and apparently we were pretty lucky because the taxi driver told Tiya that cabs were not allowed to take people up the mountain unless they were foreigners.  So, for once I found myself more useful than a Korean.  The road up the mountain winds around it a few times and we finally got all the way up.  

One pretty interesting tradition that is observed at Namsan was nauseatingly adorable.  Let me explain.  Couples hike the mountain together with a padlock.  There is a fence at the top that guards one of the observation decks and once they make the hike they put the padlock on the fence together.  The hike symbolizes the long journey and the padlock is the permanence of the relationship.  There are thousands and thousands of these locks on this fence.  I say "nauseatingly adorable" because this was right before Valentine's Day and I was, yes shocking, without a Valentine.  But, nonetheless, the fence was quite a sight to see.  Literally, thousands of locks all with love notes scratched on them were on this fence with an amazing view of the lights of Seoul just beyond them. Pretty amazing.

There was also a laser show, but it wasn't as cool as the fence.  

Lotte World and Gyeongbok Palace

Lotte World:

Chuck E Cheese* is where a kid can be a kid; Lotte World is where adults can be kids.  This gem, located just one subway station away from me, is absolutely humungous.  Let's begin with the basics: 

a grocery store

a JCPenney-type store

a bigger Nordstrom's-type department store

3 food courts that I'm aware of

dozens, and I mean dozens of shoe, purse and clothing stores

a replica of the Trevi Fountain (not really a basic, but it's still there)

Inquisitive Reader: Well, Meg, that's pretty standard, what's so special about Lotte World?

Meg: Ah, young grasshopper, try these on for size:

an ice rink

a bowling alley

arcades

movie theaters (that's plural, not a typo)

a bookstore

Still Doubting Reader:  All right, above average at best, but is this really worthy to be mentioned in your golden blog?

Meg: Yes. For this reason: Lotte World, in addition to being your one-stop shopping spot for groceries, clothes, books and a stroll around the ice rink, also hosts the largest indoor theme park, an outdoor amusement and water park and the whole shebangabang** is connected by a monorail.  It's a playground for grownups!

Convinced Reader: Wow, I wish I had a Lotte World down the street from me. 

Meg: Not all of us can be Meg.

Gyeongbok Palace:

This past weekend, Phil and I went to one of five palaces here in Seoul.  Gyeongbok has a grisly history that doesn't accurately reflect its name.  Gyeongbok means "shining happiness" in Korean.  The palace was built in the 1390s and originally, the complex had hundreds of buildings.  During Japanese occupation in the 1500s, it was burned down.  It was

rebuilt in 1865 only to be to be torn down again in 1910 and, again, by the Japanese.  What stands now is a reconstruction in progress that began after WWII.  The front gate is called Gwanghwa-mun, seen here to the right.  After passing through the main gate, one crosses a courtyard to the biggest wooden structure still standing in South Korea, Keunjeong-jeon.  Keunjeong-jeon served as a royal throne hall.  We could walk right up to the entrances but could not step inside.  There were quite a few authentic artifacts inside the hall, like pillows on the floor for secretaries to the king.  There are three pictures here, the outside, the inside and the

 ceiling.

(If you have a magnifying glass, I'm sitting on the stairs of the first picture.)

Next, we saw Kyeongho-ru, the largest pavilion in South Korea.  It was used by the king to entertain visiting dignitaries.  It is supported by 48 stone pillars and surrounded by a man-made lotus pond.  Kyeongho means "joyous meeting" and the pavilion is still used today for special occasions.  I imagine my pictures would have been better had there been leaves on the trees, but now I have a reason to go back.  

The last building to be noted is another pavilion, much smaller than Kyeongho-ru, called Hyongwon-jeong.  This pavilion is hexagonal shaped and is two stories tall.  It was often used as a place of relaxation and meditation by the kings.  It is built on an island in the middle of a pond with a narrow bridge that connects it to the mainland.  Below are two pictures of it.

Things I miss about America:

-the International House of Pancakes

-Grass.  Space is a commodity here in S. Korea.  There is not any spot of land that isn't being used here and an absence of space means civilization reaches up into skyscraping buildings.  Every inch of space is occupied and treasured, which necessitates obsessive and unwavering efficiency here.  But at the same time there probably isn't a word for "spacious" in Korean, and if there is, it's quickly falling out of their vernacular.  To add perspective, explaining the word "lawn" to my students was incredibly difficult, because there are no lawns in Seoul!

-Super Bowl Commercials.  I've managed to see some online, but it's not the same as watching them live and laughing while my face is covered with wing sauce.

-Street signs.  Besides the only signs here being in Korean, there just aren't that many street signs here.  So, even if I did have a map, I'd still be cazed and donfused most of the time.

-Not being stared at.  I know, reader, I know. This was in my last post, but I've been here two months, and I still hate being stared at.

-Bigger shoe sizes.  When I walk into a shoe store here, I waste no time and go straight for the rack with the biggest shoes.  Who would guess that a 7 1/2 would be Sasquatch-sized here?

-Driving.  I guess not using public transportation while I was growing up made me irrationally selfish with my modes of transportation.  I intuitively itch for a mode of transportation that I don't have to share with strangers. 

And now I leave you with three videos taken at Gyeongbok Palace.  I'm not sure what they are or why they were performed, but it's not your every day experience. Enjoy!

*A masochistic parent's paradise.

** Shebang - (noun) the whole enchilada. Shebangabang - (noun) superlative of shebang (enchilada with rice and beans).