Korea Summer 2011

30 June 2011 - 5:30 pm

Earlier this week I was working in the dorm's computer lab but paused to ask the security guard in the next room if I could have a piece of paper and borrow a pen (I know, totally unprepared). So I posed the request in what I thought was my newly acquired clear Korean pronunciation. Mr. Lee nodded - yes, yes, he understood. He got up and I followed him to what I thought was a supply closet a few yards away. He opened the closet door and began reaching for a vacuum cleaner that he thought I wanted to use.

That was then; this is now. With the help of a LAN cable, the deft assistance of student Alice from Taiwan, my computer is now hooked into the Internet, right on top of the desk in our room. Yonsei has, what to me, is a complicated, non-direct system for giving students Internet access. I kept avoiding the issue until I was downstairs at 3:30 am the other morning, nursing my insomnia. Better to do that in our room where I don't have to change out of my jammies. - When I went to Turkey some mmm years ago, the only "technology" I packed was my 3 lb. manual Olivetti typewriter, carefully cushioned in the middle of my trunk. For this extended excursion, I toted an e-reader plus charger, digital camera plus charger, i-pod plus charger, computer, two sets of earbuds, as well as my cellphone and charger. The really awful part is that I'm using everything, and totally dependent on all of it for something or other. Nothing like curling up at night with i-pod cooing James Taylor.

One of my dear friends mentioned in an email to me yesterday that food appears as a persistent theme in my messages. Well, yes, that's true. If you were living in the quarters that Ellen and I are living in, spending four hours a day confined to a small room with at least three obnoxious young men in our respective classes, a teacher spewing rapid-fire Korean . . and no Fuji apples at hand, wouldn't you be thinking of food all the time as well? We had hamburgers for lunch yesterday at an ersatz "Burger King," and we found our bliss for at least 10 minutes. So, be forewarned, more food epistles on the way.

The classes. I'll bet you thought I forgot, or I did so poorly that they had to organize a special class for me. I've been meaning to provide some info about the actual program, but it's been a bit in flux. Using placement test results, they grouped us into 5 levels, several sections in each level, fewer sections the higher up the level (i.e., the most smarty pants ones). On Monday morning, we got off the busses at the KLI bldg and checked the posted lists. I am in Level 1, section 8, the highest section in the first level. I was at first disappointed, but then happened to see Alex, who has been a regular student in the UW Korean classes that I audited. He's a Korean Studies major and always did well in class. He told me he was in Level 2, which was disappointing to him but, frankly, reassuring to me to think that I wasn't all that far behind him. Don't want to belabor this last part - basically my Section 8 class was feeling too easy, but that's because they're reviewing grammar that I am already pretty familiar with. The listening and speaking for me are definitely awful, awful. But I'm also the reverse of most of the students who sound like native Koreans and seem to understand everything, but when it comes to the reading and writing, they tend to struggle.

By Wednesday I began to wonder if I should ask to shift to the next section (which would be in Level 2). The program had already been shuffling students around for those first couple of days, mostly upwards. Seems to me several of these young men are not used to being among the rowboats, so they insisted on the instant promotions. By yesterday morning, I decided to talk to my instructor 김선생님 (roughly, Ms. Kim honored teacher). We agreed that I know more grammar than is in the scope of our section but that my speaking and listening are limited. But, she said she would talk with the director.

During our first break this morning, Ms. Kim told me she had discussed my situation with the director and a couple of the Section 2 teachers. They all had agreed, she said, that if I wanted to move up to Section 1 in Level 2, that that would be fine, but, she said, "you will fail." She said that twice. I guess that should have crunched any confidence I might have about my Korean language skills, but it struck me as funny. "You will fail." You can try to find the magic chalice, but in the end you will fail. You can seek the treasure of the ancient ones, but in the end, like all those who have come before you, you will fail. You will die in the desert and your bones will turn to dust. Not as drastic as that; I'll stay where I am and try to build my speaking and listening skills to make this journey worthwhile.

In truth, Ellen and I are having such a good time. I haven't laughed as hard and as frequently in ages. We each refuse to let the other take our picture (Ellen has started her own blog), so tonight we tried taking pictures of each other taking each other's picture. Yes, silly, but it distracts from the rain, from any of the other minor annoyances.

We think we're particularly blessed in this dorm. Apparently, some 40 or so pastors are living in nearby dorms taking some special courses. We see them in the cafeteria at mealtimes.
Love and such,
Laraine

p.s. Have some pictures, but need to take a few more. . between rain drops.

I believe that prisoners in minimum-security prisons, who also have a sustained record of good behavior, are sometimes rewarded with home leave over the weekends. Ellen and I didn’t get to go home today, but we were able to take our first off-campus excursion. After having the now-unsurprising breakfast of rice, soup, pickles and/or veggie, and some kind of modest meat course, then doing our laundry, we prepared for our adventure. Flip flops or sandals? Umbrella or no umbrella? Big bag or little bag? Passport or no passport? It’s astonishing how quickly one loses all ability to make decisions when almost none of consequence has been required for several days.
Following a map drawn on a 5cmx5cm piece of paper by a Korean student whom Ellen met in the downstairs lounge a few days ago (I must say, tho’, Ellen was following up on a hot tip from my conversation with the Austin, TX, student in the laundry room) –we left the dorm about 10:30 a.m., walked around to the back, walked down some stone steps, through a gate in a wire fence, and emerged into a regular, everyday neighborhood.

Ellen captures the moment.

Typical storefront establishment, but especially typical is the motorbike with basket on the back. Thousands of these seem to keep Seoul humming (and eating, often used for food deliveries).

Honestly, I can’t tell you how liberating it felt. Hardly “The Shawshank Redemption” or “The Count of Monte Cristo,” but it was quite the exhilarating moment. A brief walk through the neighborhood to a busy road where we took a bus to what is called, phonetically, [ee’ dae], contraction of the Korean for Ewa (ee-vah) Women’s University, “Korea’s first educational institution for women.” We were actually heading to the shopping district that has developed adjacent to the campus. In truth, we don’t know exactly where the district begins and ends. My impression is that it occupies just a spoonful of land, but it is incredibly dense with people, shops, and eateries. Not a foot of space is unoccupied. Streets seem barely a few yards wide and yet cars continually stream through. I don’t think I saw any crosswalks; you just say a prayer and hope you make it to the other side.
After walking down a random street, we ran right into the main entrance of the university. I forgot to mention that our bus ride was on a local bus (versus city) because we were going only about three miles. Yonsei is one of four major Korean universities clustered together in one area of Seoul – thus, it’s Yonsei, Ewa, Hongik, and Sogang. I wonder if anyone has ever taken a maiden bus ride in a foreign country without looking like a total tourist, fumbling with change, asking several times if the bus is going to X, sitting down but then asking the nearest local about where to get off . . .of course, in mangled fragments of the native language. We were fortunate to be on a bus with patient kind Koreans, two of whom spoke some English. One even drew me a little diagram that he told us to follow to get to ‘ee dae.’ And so we did. (to be contd.)

Sat. 07.2 (continued)
With the help of a Korean woman in a black business suit, essentially commanding us to follow her for two blocks, we came to what looked like the main road into the shopping district. I felt a bit overwhelmed by the crush of crowds, the density of shops, eateries, cars moving too fast through skinny streets. But once my senses stopped bouncing up and down, everything became pretty fascinating. I can’t remember seeing so many clothing shops, stalls, and long racks of clothes along the sidewalks. But no wonder. The target consumer is the university student, most particularly the young female student. Mmm, what fun it would be to be 20 years-old, able to saunter along in teeny, tight jeans shorts, gladiator 3-inch-heel shoes, black bra, and filmy chiffony top. It sounds disastrous, but, honest, I thought the girls looked cute, and like they were having fun. So, rest in peace, Asian (Korean at least) modesty.

I could ramble a long time about our tour of Ee-dae, but suffice to mention lunch. We found a little downstairs place specializing in cold noodles (nangmyeun). Utterly delicious. A curled knot of buckwheat noodles coddled in a savory, crisp icey soup, topped with slivers of cucumbers, turnips, and a boiled egg (cut in half). It was just two aju-mahs (polite Korean for middle-age women) in a cramped kitchen cooking and serving. Traditional and simple, but when I asked if they might have any Coke on hand, the owner found me not only a Coke but a Coke Zero pushed back behind the various sized and shaped bottles of water that were served to each table. Lunch alone would have been worth the trip from the dorm.

The noodle stop was important because it provided a bathroom pause as well. How many millions of travelers have told stories about bathroom experiences? For this one, which was the on-the-floor model, I was mainly afraid that when I pulled the chain on the water tank hovering above my head that 15 gallons of water would come crashing down. It was somewhat jerry-rigged in Korean style.

Entrance to Ewa Women's University - Museum is to the left.

The real centerpiece of our Saturday outing was the Ewa University Museum. Ellen had jotted down in her pre-travel notes that the museum was showing a special exhibit titled, “Elegance and Grace: Beautiful People of East Asia.” We were lucky enough simply to stumble upon the main entrance to the University, with the museum just a few yards away, and even with free entry! I don’t know how to describe a museum exhibit, especially one that was so beautifully crafted and presented. If an exhibit can be elegant, this was it.

Sorry, have to stop here. Would like to add some impressions of the exhibit next time, but have some homework to finish. Also need to think about what I might do during my meeting tomorrow with a Yonsei student. We've been paired to meet twice a week for conversation practice. Yun-seup is going to attend a college in the States next month and wants to practice his English and "learn about the culture." We shook hands when we first met last week, and that became Lesson 1: how to give a hearty, firm American-style handshake, with eye contact and all that.