Near, far, whereeeeeeeeeeeeeeever you are.

This morning, the music teacher at my school started practicing the theme song from Titanic on a recorder in the teacher's "lounge." I was frustrated that she didn't speak any English, so I couldn't talk to her about it.

Oh, and last night in a nearby bakery, Rilo Kiley "Portions for Foxes" came on over the store speakers. Wow, that felt weird.

Arrived at the school without incident, and was promptly informed that there was a teachers' meeting at 8:10 am, and that I was expected to make a ten-minute introductory speech so that everyone could meet me. Good thing I've overcome my fear of public speaking?

Everyone I've met so far has been exceptionally nice. I'm the first foreigner to work at my school, and some of both the staff and the students seem at a bit of a loss as to what to do with me - which is pretty fun for me, as it turns out.

Turns out they're not expecting me to start teaching at all until next week, so all I'm doing for now is going around to each classroom to briefly introduce myself, and then spending the rest of class time either observing my co-teachers, or flipping through text- and activity books attempting to make lesson plans for next week. So far, all of the classrooms I've entered are 100% rowdy boys, though I have seen some girls in the hallway.

Some of the students seem intimidated by me; others seem apathetic towards me. But the majority of them jump at every chance to wave and yell "Hi!" or "Hello!" or "Nice to meet you!" at me as we pass in the halls. I rather like it.

Snacked on dduk and instant coffee all day, and - speaking of food - weathered my first school cafeteria meal. On the menu: kimchi (as always), spicy mountain greens, a fresh and crispy and juicy and soupy cabbage mixture, cooked potatoes and mushrooms, more kimchi cooked with pork (which I did not partake of), bean curd soup, sesame tofu, white rice. All in all, I quite enjoyed it. I wonder if it's not a little bit abnormal for there to be only one meat dish per meal, though.

The person I have taken to be my main co-teacher (who has asked me to call her Nicole) also took me to set up a Korean bank account today. I've been promised that I will receive a drying rack, iron and ironing board, wastebasket, and TV from the school soon, and that I will be reimbursed for the money I dropped on dishes/pots and pans/silverware yesterday. Soon, I will need to stop subsisting on microwaved vegetable and rice porridge, and stock my fridge and cupboards with some of the fresh produce that is forever for sale on the streets.

I got a bit turned about on my way home, which I blame on the fact that my cardinal directions get all mixed up when I have to partake of subways and/or buses. But after a bit of re-thinking my whereabouts, I'm home just fine, and confident that the journey to and from school won't cause me any more problems.

For those of you who are waiting for my address: I know I promised you I'd ask for it on Monday, and I did. But it was when we were at the bank, and I forgot to ask for it to be written down once we returned to the school. Tomorrow, I promise.

Beverly Hills, Seoul

Yesterday, I found out where I was teaching; today, I am at my new apartment.

My school is Seoul Electronics High School, located in Suocho-gu, south of the Han River that runs through the city. I've been told that my district is sometimes called the Beverly Hills of Seoul, and can hardly wait to find out what the Korean version of rich-bitch New York mothers (@bird_esque) is like.

But even though I'll be living and teaching in a wealthy district, the students who attend the electronics school (a technical high school) are generally those who did not do well in middle school, are from poorer areas of Seoul, and have very low comprehension of English (the richer the area, the more likely that students will have received private English instruction). The gap between the residents and the students will definitely be interesting.

The school is co-ed, but strongly dominated by boys, unsurprisingly. I'll be teaching 18 hours a week to classes of 15-20 students, and I'll also be spending 2 hours a week teaching English to my fellow teachers.

My apartment is about 30 minutes away from the school by subway, but still in the same district. It's small, but no smaller than I expected. I have all the space and facilities I need, and I can't wait to get all my things unpacked to make it feel more homey.

Those are the facts - now for the emotions. I began to get nervous yesterday (Friday), especially when I found out that I would teaching mostly boys, but I've never experienced anything like the nervous breakdown I had when I woke up this morning. I literally could not keep anything down: the smallest sips of water had me running for the bathroom to throw up. I was constantly on the verge of tears from the time I woke until I'd been left to myself in my apartment. Shy Pam coming out and trying to convince me that I can't do this.

I can, though, can't I?

My rice balls, let me show you them.

"dduk": glutinous sweet rice balls served on special occasions in Korea. They served them at the cafeteria lunch today, for no special occasion. I am now planning to buy quite a number of them to take to my school (the location of which I will hopefully know by the end of this afternoon) to share with my fellow teachers, in the hopes that we will begin with a good working relationship. Small gifts, especially things that can be eaten together as an act of community, are very important gestures here.

In other news, my groups lesson plan presentation went very well! Both my classmates and the teacher had many compliments and no criticisms for us. I guess that means that we've learned something useful at this orientation.

Lesson plans and quail eggs.

At dinner today, I encountered something which appeared to be green olives, and was informed by a well-meaning friend who thought I was vegan, that they were in fact fried whole quail eggs. Well, in that case, I suppose I'll eat them all the same. After all, I do eat chicken eggs, and I'm not about to give special treatment to quail just because they're cuter. The eggs tasted almost exactly the same as chicken eggs, with a slightly more rubbery outer layer when you first bite into them.

We've been divided groups of 3 or 4 to create example lesson plans together today. Tomorrow, one person from each group will present the group's lesson plan.

My group has 4 people and is rife with conflict. Lack of flexibility and poor communication strategies abound with my group-mates. We have, however, managed to produce a 50-minute high-school oriented lesson plan that I am reasonably satisfied with. Tomorrow morning, we'll present it. Hopefully, all goes well.

In other news, I am anxious to move into my own place, and to have my own personal space. But it's not all bad here. Sometimes, I feel incredibly frustrated, and sometimes, I feel completely content and happy. I'm making a lot of friends in the dorm; it took me a bit, since many of the orientees are what I would call narrow-minded and immature, but I've found at least 5 or so people whose company I regularly seek out, and whom I am beginning to consider friends. For those of you who know me well, you know this is an accomplishment for me, especially in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable place. If I can continue to push myself outside my comfort zone, then perhaps my luck will continue, and I will make friends just as easily when I arrive at my school.

Peace.

Wait, we have a cheese room?

Classes classes classes. They all say virtually the same thing: get the students to speak in English using games, boost confidence with games, make class more fun using games. Play lots of games.

After class, took the subway for the first time (with my aforementioned Hello Kitty subway card). With a few small differences (like escalator etiquette), it's just like the London Underground - so an easy adjustment for me. There's a lovely Indian restaurant just one subway stop away from the dorm, and one of my vegetarian classmates and I were growing a bit tired of the same old cafeteria routine: fried egg, white rice, lettuce, kimchi. Sometimes: broccoli, sweet potatoes, corn. Rarely: pasta. So instead: palak panir, vegetable curry, samosas, garlic naan. Since I'm trying to get used to Korean food, I'm not going to allow myself to do this very often, but hey - it's been a rough week.

We got drenched on the way back to the dorm (contrary to my former complaints re: not enough rain, it rains plenty. And not just a little). Which meant we had to run and change before tonight's entertainment: Nanta - one part theater, two parts Iron Chef bastard child, two parts objectification of the scantily dressed female chef, three parts really cool Korean rhythms/drumming/stomp. No pictures allowed inside of the theater, unfortunately.

That's all right now! Love.

Buck wild

Last night, out for soju (20%, tastes like rubbing alchohol) and norebang (kareoke, which they love here) with some of the people I'm getting to know here.

En route from the dorm to the ice-house (a bar with ice-cold cupholders embedded in the table for maximum enjoyment of soju or beer).

We met Gandalf on the way, naturally.

Shot glass and my pitcher of cherry soju (which tastes like cough syrup, rather than rubbing alcohol) chillin' in the ice house.

Then, off to the norebang. I was coerced into singing a duet of "A Whole New World," but needed no persuasion to sing Blu Cantrell's "Hit 'Em Up Style."

Today, the rumors are flying. We've been divided into groups to work on and present a lesson plan of our own on Thursday and Friday of this week, and everyone who selected high school as their first choice (myself included) is in the same group. If the word on the street is to be believed, this means that I've been assigned to the high school age group (what we would call 10th-12th grade), though I don't yet have any idea which district of Seoul I will be placed in.

Not much other news to report, as of now. They're keeping me busy and fairly overstimulated (what with 12 hours of lecture per day and all). Love to all. Bed now.

Like a clean cicada, like aromatic citrus fruit.

Ten thousand cicadas, everywhere, all the time. Apparently, Koreans like cicadas because they have a reputation as diligent insects. It's good that they like them, because they permeate the outdoors here.

Last night, I climbed a mountain. Okay, so it was a small mountain about a 15 minute walk from my dorm with paved trails all the way up to the top. The big mountains aren't going anywhere (@bird_esque after all, life goal # [I don't remember] = climb a mountain on every continent).

Looking out from the mountain on the night lights of Seoul.

My fellow trainees, perched on the wall on the mountaintop.

Can you see this? It's a man exercising on an elliptical machine. They have various exercise machines at the top of the mountain.

Halfway up the mountain, we encountered a stage, and this:

Life goal number (51 or so?): eat squid.

Wait. That can't be right. Today we took a field trip into Jonju (about a 3-hour drive from Seoul), famous for its traditional culture and bibimbap. For dinner, the vegetarians were separated out from the rest of the group for a different fare. I mistakenly assumed that all the dishes we were served were therefore safe, and proceeded to try everything. I was mid-chew on some spicy, crispy-yet-chewy morsels when I was informed by my pescatarian table neighbor that I was chewing on squid legs.

Oh. Well, can't be helped, I suppose. A few seconds later, the fishy taste kicked in, and I had to force myself not to vomit, but force myself I did. My Leo pride rearing it's ugly head? I stopped chewing and swallowed them whole.

Status of vegetarianism: ?

Aside from eating misadventures, we took a bit of a tour of Jonju palace, briefly learned how to play traditional Korean drums, enacted a traditional wedding ceremony, and made our own traditional Korean fans (red, yellow, and blue swirled together, representing harmony between sky, earth, and humans. Our guides were in conflict over which color represented which). I'm all tradition-ed out.

Dorm-mate Trina, being overwhelmed about the drumming we're about to do (and also surprised by my sneak camera attack). By the way, we hadn't yet figured out that the drums go horizontally, not vertically. The two sides produce different sounds.

Jonju cultural center.


Decorations appearing on the outside woodwork of many traditional buildings (possibly from the Joseon dynasty).

Gate at the entrance to the palace, designed to keep devilish spirits out. They're big on ghosts here.

The interior of the first Catholic church ever built in Korea (purportedly), on the site of the spot where Catholics used to be executed for their rebellion against Confucianism. As our guide (the lady in the white gloves and hat) put it, mainstream Korea didn't like Catholicism because it didn't promote enough respect of elders.

On the drive back to Seoul, we started watching "The Good, The Bad, The Weird" (Korean film with English subtitles), which proved to be a sexist and gory gang film, the kind that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would love (@twcwar @bird_esque @warmandbarky). To my great joy, about halfway through the drive the movie started skipping, and we switched to a DVD of JLo in concert for the remainder of the trip. Yes, plz.

Heartz to all. Hope you enjoyed the show.

Quarantine!

No freaking out, guys (Mom, that means you).

It looks like all the hype about swine flu and taking our temperatures isn't just for show - they actually follow through for the smallest indication of illness.

Last night (Friday), two of my fellow orientees (a girl who had a fever and sore throat, and her unlucky roommate, who was feeling fine) were placed under quarantine in their room. This morning (Saturday) they were taken to the hospital, where they are apparently under quarantine for 5 days. I'm not sure whether they will be able to complete the orientation/training or not.

Then, about five minutes ago (it's just past lunchtime on Saturday here), another girl departed lunch wearing a breathing mask, and was taken away in an ambulance. We've been assured by the program staff that there's no need to worry, and that all of this is just precautionary procedure. I'm inclined to believe them, since my impression so far has been that they are taking regular cold symptoms (stuffed up nose, slight fever, sore throat) just a little too seriously. After all, all of us are jet-lagged, slightly dehydrated (in the case of most of my classmates), and overall under a lot of bodily stress. It's natural that we might be feeling a bit under the weather for a few days, especially as we adjust to the hot and humid summer climate.

Most of my dorm mates, however, are working themselves into a tizzy over it. I'm glad I have a high stress threshold. One of my fellow teachers-to-be gave me a link to a blog that was written by a group of English teachers in Korea in May 2009, who were apparently exposed to swine flu by one of their fellow orientees and sent to quarantine for an extended period of time: click here if you'd like to read the blog.

Whereas the first few days in the country, I had a fair amount of time to myself, "alone time" has proved nonexistent these past few days. I share a room, have classes with my peers from 8 am til 9 pm every day, and usually have barely enough time to update my internetz in the common area (the only place internetz is available) and maybe do a little street exploring with the other orientees (I'm a little too skittish to venture out on my own yet) before heading to bed to prepare for another early morning. In a way, the rigorous schedule is nice: it has rather quickly regularized my sleeping schedule, and has prevented me from the self-isolation that I otherwise might have tended towards. I'm trying not to get too stressed out by the lack of alone time (which I generally use to process things), and am reminding myself that in about a week, when I get my own apartment, I will have as much time to myself as I want.

팜

I can now read most Korean characters, and am capable of producing hangul (the Korean system of writing) on or off my computer. The above is Pam (pronounced "pahm," the British way) in hangul.

Three Korean cafeteria meals later, my vegetarianism is still intact, minus one accidental bite of a fish patty that I thought was breaded zucchini. The food is quite good, especially once I learned that the vast majority of the sauces are quite spicy and thus, for me, something to be avoided (for now). Hopefully, my spice tolerance will improve in the course of the year. I'm especially a fan of how much they rely on fresh fruits and vegetables over here. I have mango juice and bananas with nearly every meal, as well as broccoli, carrots, cucumbers, etc.

I hadn't bonded much with my roommate (Christina) before, but yesterday she asked me if I'd pooped since I got here. "Yes" was the answer, but then she followed up: "Yeah, but was it a good poop?" No. It wasn't. I'm officially in love. We are also mutually open about the fact that we tend to fart in our sleep.

As of now, I have a Hello Kitty subway card and nearly no free time. I get up every morning around 7 and it's beginning to seem not only normal, but preferable. I hardly recognize myself.

Han / gul

So far, I've learned how to stack Korean letters into the square blocks that form syllables, and I'm starting to memorize the alphabet. Tonight, I get my first crash course in survival Korean.

I'm at the orientation dorm now, and have been since around 4 pm Thursday. I wear my nametag like my job depends on it (and it does).

Thursday morning, I sat on the ledge next to my open window in the Incheon guesthouse while it rained hot and heavy for hours. But for the rest of the Thursday, and all of today, it's been hot and humid. I seem to be adjusting to the sticky temperatures more readily than my fellow orientees, but still, I wish it would rain more.

Jet lag hasn't relinquished its hold on me yet, but I've sworn to myself that I won't give in to the urge to nap today (like I did yesterday), in the hopes of feeling more human tomorrow.

All of my peers are fairly friendly, and I'm settling in here, if only for 9 days. Some of them are like me, and came here straight after graduation in an effort to latch onto one of the limited number of jobs offering both decent pay and room for adventure in this economy. Others seem to be Asian language junkies, going from China, to Japan, to Korea, to Vietnam for years at a time, teaching English. I wonder at their stamina.

We had medical exams today; they're very concerned about swine flu. Four or so days ago, the second person in South Korea died from it. Fever seems to be the symptom they're most concerned about: when I got off the plane at Incheon, and again when I arrived at the dorm yesterday, officials took my temperature before letting me through. I have instructions to measure my own temperature every morning and evening (thermometer provided), and to immediately put on my face mask (also provided) and proceed to the hospital if my temperature rises above 37.5 C. On the flight over, there were more than a few people wearing face masks on the plane. I don't know whether to laugh at these surface-level precautions, or admire them for at least taking more initiative about the epidemic than the U.S. ever seems to.

Opening ceremony and welcoming dinner tonight. We'll see how this goes.

Yo song / Nam song

I've been in South Korea for less than a day, and already been called "sir." This was definitely a good idea.

I woke up this morning after sleeping for maybe 5 hours, and it felt like forever. I'm not tired anymore, perhaps due to the fact that I managed to doze for the majority of my time in the air, perhaps due to the anticipation that I can neither shake nor ignore.

My trip was fairly seamless, with nearly no heckling from the Korean Immigration authorities. While I wandered around the airport trying to find a place to call the guesthouse to arrange my pickup, I was approached by no less than four middle-aged, chubbly Korean men (not at the same time) asking me what I was doing and offering me a ride. I was a little weirded out by this, and rather quickly assumed that they were simply hawkers trying to take advantage of an obviously foreign and slightly lost lady. I summarily rejected their offers, replying that I knew where I was going and that someone was coming to pick me up. But one of them did actually help me, telling me that I would be able to call the guesthouse for free at the Information Desk. Maybe they were all just trying to help?

Anyway, I have a shiny new fuschia stamp on my passport and not much confidence for the days to come. It's 8 am here, and in a few hours, I'll take a shuttle back to Incheon Airport, check in with the Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education, and then take a program shuttle directly to the dormitory where I will be staying for my 9-day orientation.

Peace. I love you all.