Last Wednesday I was teaching a student English by having a conversation about uniforms in school.  In her current school she does not have to wear a school uniform, but when she graduates to middle school she will have to.  I saw the opportunity to continue the lesson along this vein and started to make a pro’s and con’s list for mandatory uniforms in school.

While she was very much opposed to recognizing any positive reasons for school uniforms, I told her my positives.  I told her that I was in the military, and I understood the importance of looking like your fellow workers.  She understood this point, but was more interested in my military experience.  I told her that I served for six years and that I was deployed to Iraq.  Her first question after this was an undesired question.  I’ve gotten it from family and friends.  And I can understand the draw. 

“Did you kill anyone?” 

You can deliver this question in many ways.  Apprehensive is most commonly seen by me, but she is not mature enough to realize the magnitude of her inquiry.  She had a smile on her face, and her smile caused me to well up. 

I told her that I gratefully never had to kill anyone or shoot my weapon.  I told her that my job was purifying water, and she responded by telling me I didn’t go to war.  I was lost at this point.  How do you reason with a child who is convinced they are right. 

I told her that the U. S. military recognizes me as a veteran.  She didn’t respond.  I then proceeded to tell her that her question was insensitive to ask.  To enquire about death is not a light topic, and you shouldn’t ask, especially with a smile on your face. 

It has been many years since I was a child.  I forget what it is like to be trapped in an apartment, cut off from the world around you, and not understandthe depth of a question.  But we were all  children once, and still are in many aspects of life.  I think I will bring this topic up in our next lesson to understand better her thoughts.

I have really enjoyed my experience in Korea so far.  And to use the word enjoy, it doesn’t do my feelings justice.  I feel a sense of pride from being in Korea that overshadows anything else I have done so far in my life.  I have done many things that I am proud of.  OSU, being an RA, Iraq, camping, music, and many others.  But when I stop to think of where I am and what I am doing, my soul smiles most. 
 
I have talked with Keunyea about these feelings, and worked out an answer that seems right:  this experience is mine.  It sounds greedy, and in a sense not true, but it feels right to say.  I wasn’t told I had to be here, I didn’t come for someone else, it isn’t a forced next step in life like a transition from middle school to high school.  I found this position, I applied for it, I have applied myself to it.  This is my adventure.  It’s liberating, really.  I have always enjoyed the studies I pursued on my own more than what I was told to learn**.   
 
We’ll see if I feel the same way a month from now.  There are down times, too.  Missing family, everyday life in USA, and friends happens often.  It does get lonely here at night.  But I study Korean, read Lord of the Rings, and other books to fill the time.  I have really enjoyed reading The Fellowship of the Ring again.  There is a sense of comfort in these characters that I did not expect to find.  I think it comes from my father reading me the stories and the memorable moments when we saw the movies together on Christmas Day. 

I have eleven more months to enjoy this country, which I plan to do.  I am continually surprised by what each day brings, whether it be a new person to meet or a new site to see.  For instance, on sunny Saturday afternoon when I went for a run I came across a river that was frozen over.  On the river’s surface was a family with their three children playing.  The parents were pulling their crossed-legged kids on mini sleds across the ice.  You could hear their high pitched voices carry across the hard ice as they raced each other.  I stopped to watch and wished I had brought my camera.

**

I have found a great place to live in Korea.  I live in a city outside of Seoul where there is a great hiking trail and quiteness.  My roommates are a litte different, though.  They are grandparents, which is surprisingly nice.  The grandmother, or halmonie, always gives me food.  They are happy with how clean I am, and I am happy with them, overall. 

So there has been a slight problem with my living condition.    Traditionally, Korean women like to feed guests.  This isn’t all that bad, but it is a 30 minute process of eating and getting more to eat, and so on.  So the grandmother is big on feeding me if I stand around the living room for too long. I close my bedroom door to have some privacy, and this usually takes care of intrusion. But the grandpa has consistently been opening my door in the morning.  The first time he did this, I thought he was checking to see if I was home.  I said hello, and he looked confused for a second but realized that I was in my bed.  He left and I went back to sleep.  The next day he asked if he could see my room, I think for an inspection.  I said that would be fine, and I passed.  It’s amazing how clean and orderly you can be with a lot of space and little stuff.  Over the next week he continued to look into my room in the morning around 9, see me, and with a wave and smile close the door.  I began to think this was not just a friendly hello, but to check on my room or to see if Keunyea was staying the night.  I wasn’t sure what the meaning was but I did feel a little betrayed and invaded. 

I was telling Keunyea all of this as it happened, and when she was visiting me she talked to the grandmother about the situation. It turns out I was completely wrong.  My bathroom door is right next to my bedroom door, and they both look the same.  Every time the grandpa came into my room, he thought it was the bathroom.  He has a slight case of dementia, I would guess.  He at least realizes that my room is not the bathroom when he pears in, but his aging will play more of a role in our living situation then I thought.  Last night I woke up to both of them talking outside my door, and what sounded like water splashing from a rag.  Maybe a mess in the bathroom.  I feel badly for the man, he is very nice and always smiles when I see him.  I wonder if the attempt to conceal this from me has been a strain on the grandmother.  Oh, well.  I worked around this back at Marriott, so I might be a little knowledgeable of the situation, and tolerable too. 

“The man who is isolated, . . . . or has no need to share because he is already self-sufficient, is no part of the city, and must therefore be either a beast or a god.” 

                                                                                         ~Aristotle

I have reached my breaking point.  I miss interaction with people.  I miss talking, communicating fluidly.  I did not realize how bad I had become until four days ago when I bought lunch from the school cafeteria.  The lunch lady showed me kindness by giving me an English version of the menu, and said “Happy New Year”. 

When she gave me the traditional season’s greeting, I’m sure I blushed.  I know I was touched, at least.  It meant the world to me to hear English spoken where I expected none.  Kindness feels sweeter when given at a moment least expected.  I realized how pathetic I had become.  Sometimes I brush into people in the hallway on ‘accident’ to feel physical affection. 

I looked at my options to remedy the situation, and chose the one location that has always given me good friends and fellowship:  Church.  I asked Keunyea where I could find an English service.  She gave me a church I could try, but she couldn’t go with me that Sunday.  She would be out of town.  I felt I could handle the situation by myself, so I got directions and a traveling time (40 minutes) .  That was a mistake.

I have written down directions so many times with the barest of information.  I give the major streets and what direction to turn.  Any side information about landmarks or distances I think I will remember.  I can never recall what I knew, regardless of how certain I once was.  Plus, my side notes are always “after the first bridge, between the second bridge, big brick building with a cross”.  This becomes worthless when I’m on a bus that travels over small bridges, under large bridges, and past brick buildings with a cross within the first 5 minutes of traveling. 

I saw a white building made of white stones that could be bricks, and a cross on top near one of the stops, so I took a chance.  I walked up to the steps of the church, and there was a welcoming lady with a yellow sash that beconed me in.  When I asked her if this was an English service she answered in Korean.  I felt this boded badly for me.  She gave me a hand out for the service, not a word of English.  My hopes were fading even more.  But I was ushered in by her and another lady.  They seemed so sure that I should come in that I couldn’t say no. 

When I walked into the sanctuary there was not a single non-Korean speaking person.  But now I was inside with the ushers guiding me where I should sit.  I wanted to run.  I knew I wouldn’t understand a word of the service, which would last for 1 hour that day.  I read the banners at the front of the santuary again and again.  There were four of them.  No idea what I was reading since it was in Korean, but I practiced my reading skills all the same. 

The day was not all bad, though.  Two people in the congregation could speak English.  One was ushered to me before I could be seated.  He just came from the University of Wisconsin where he had studied for three years.  His name was Chan.  Chan’s English was better than anyone I have met here so far.  It was great to talk with him, and share my thoughts and feelings.  The other was named Nam.  He was a little hyper and loud, but nice. 

I sat through the service, and stayed for the lunch afterwards.  Chan said good luck to me after the service was over, so I went downstairs with Nam for some rice, seaweed, soy sauce, bean sprouts and chicken called dak bahb.  It was delicious, and most everyone was happy to see me there.  Adults were shaking my had with a smile, and little kids would conceal a smile with their hands.  Now and then, a child would wave and say “Howerya”, which would be followed by giggles from his friends and himself.  When I finished my meal and talked a little with a lot of different people, I said good-bye to Nam and thanked him for his hospitality. 

So there is my first failed attepmt to find a church.  I wouldn’t call it a failed trip, though.  I was sad that I could not be a part of the congregation, because many of the people I met were very friendly.  Maybe within the next year, after I learn a fair amount of Korean, I can go back  to visit.  I like that idea.

Today was my first English class with my fifth grade students.  I have been worried about teaching for the past three weeks.  What will I teach them?  How much will the know of English already?  Can I even communicate with them at all?  I think these questions were important, but I didn’t need to dwell on them too much.  I had bought an English book that is for 3rd graders and followed its curriculum. 

We started off with introductions.  I said my name and what my favorite hobby is.  I then asked Wonjay, Jiesuhn, and Hyanna to introduce themselves and what their favorite thing to do is.  This proved hard for several reasons, shyness and the inexperience of speaking these phrases.  I eventually found that Wonjay, a boy, likes soccer.  His favorite team is Manchester United.  I think there is a Korean who plays for them, which might bias his affinity.  Both Jiesuhn and Hyanna, both girls, like music, though they don’t play, nor could they tell me their favorite music to listen to. 

The rest of the two hour lesson was spent learning what the book had to offer.  Some of the topics we went over were how to say what day of the month our birthdays were on, how to use past tense when making a statement, and what articles of clothing we should bring to a beach or camping.  At moments the lesson lagged, and Wonjay had the hardest time of all three students, but he keeps trying with some proding.  The hardest concept I tried to teach them today was the difference between I, we, and they.  Try doing this in your head when the word ‘include’ is not understandable.  If you can, tell me.  I would like to know. 

Overall, I am very impressed with how much they know.  They are very good students who listen to what I say, and participate willingly.  I find this the most important.  I want to make the class more fun in the future, more hands on.  I will have to look into what we learn next to figure this one out. 

By the end of the two hours, I was a little tired.  I could tell the students were ready to be done too.  But I felt good about what we had accomplished by the end of the lesson.  I don’t know how much it helped them.  I think we might have reviewed and strengthened past knowledge, but that is fine for me. 

I gave them a homework assignment that is due this Tuesday.  I want them to write a short essay on who they are, how old they are, where are they from, that stuff.  For an example I wrote, ‘My name is Chris Cooley.  My birthday is on May 19th, and I am 25 years old.’  At this, Wonjay read what I had wrote, which I was very pleased with.  ‘My name is Chrisu Cooley and I am 100 years old.  Both girls laughed, and so did I.  Wonjay seemed happy, too.  Maybe he is embarassing me like I did to him durring the lesson.  Which did happen a couple times, I think.  But I wanted to make sure he understood the point I was trying to teach.  He then repeated my fake age to everyone when I was saying good-bye to the stuents and their mothers.  We all laughed again. 

When I returned home, I changed into my running clothes and went for my first run in a month.  I can’t say I felt the urge before now.

New Year’s Eve was not very exciting. Keunyea and I went downtown to look around. We had pizza, a treat around here, and walked the streets.  There is a tradition that the president rings a large Buddhist bell on New Year’s Eve at midnight.  So there were several people standing around the site at 9:00 waiting for the moment.  I don’t know if they were there to support him, though.  South Korea’s president is somewhat of a bad leader.  He is running a political campaign that is appalling.  Therefore, many of the people we ran into that night were protesting the president.  There were also many cops dressed in riot gear waiting for any trouble.  I decided that I didn’t want to be around all of this when the crowd, potential mob, had a chance to yell their thoughts to the president.  The guy sounds like a Bush duplicate, except many of the people know that he is bad from the first year of his term in office.  He has an adjenda, which is turning the country around, and doesn’t listen to opposition.  I have been told by Keunyea that he is the worst type of stupid.  If you are stupid and lazy, it doesn’t matter, you won’t harm anyone but yourself.  If you are stupid and a hard worker, then you can cause some problems.  I feel for the country of Korea. 

The trains stopped running at 1 am, which would cause a problem when over a million people want to take the train in one hour, between midnight and one.  Keunyea and I thought about staying downtown until the trains started running again at 6am, but it was cold and we were tired.  We went back home and found a bar near a downtown area of Anyang.  Not as glamorous at all.  We sat in a small booth, cutoff from everyone else in the bar by drapes around our booth.  Very intimate, but that’s not what I want for a New Year’s countdown.  I wanted people around counting down with beers in their hand.  But I enjoyed my company and drank to the new year.  Bailey’s and milk is delicious.

안넹하세요

크리스 (Chris)

Hello,

My name is Chris Cooley, and I am an Ohio State University graduate with my B.S. in environmental science.  I have also served my country, USA, in the Iraq war with my Ohio National Guard unit for one year. 

I have recently accepted a laboratory tech position at Yonsei University in Seoul, Korea. 

I am not sure what will come of this year, but I hope to use this blog as a conduit for insight, sharing, and release of my thoughts and feelings during an exciting and scary step of life. 

I have two requests: that you take all of my writings as a single experience, whether good or bad, and not as a blanket assumption; and that you read my writings in their entirety before making conclusions on how I feel or think about my experiences. 

I hope you will enjoy the writings from someone who has reduced himself to an ignorant boy in the hopes of experiencing a new world.

Thank you,

Chris Cooley

Hello,

My name is Chris Cooley, and I am starting this blog to document my experience in Korea.  This is my first attempt at blogging and I have no clue how this will go.  But I hope you enjoy and find these entries as intriguing as I will find them. 

One side comment: when I spell check my blog entry I am told that ‘blog’  and ‘blogging’ is incorrectly spelled and gives me the option of ‘bog’ or ‘log’. 

You think someone would do something about that.

Can anyone read this.

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