Why the lack of arms?

Why, oh why the exclamation marks?

It's on the subway, by the way. And that's Chinese, not Korean, next to "Priority Seat."

I have already written more here than I wrote the entire year I was in London.

Do I need to cut back, or is it simply that more things are happening to me in Seoul?

Over the weekend, Young-Kyeong took me to meet one of her fellow Korean English teacher friends, who teaches at a rich high school in Seocho, in the same district as my school. We had dduk-bogi (similar to bulgogi, for those of you with a working knowledge of Korean food, but with long white dduk fried in the red pepper paste instead of pork/beef, often fried along with various vegetables, hard-boiled eggs, and somewhat tasteless thin fish patties). Ddukbogi is really spicy, and Young-Kyeong was really concerned that I wouldn't be okay with it, but I swear, if you saw me now, you would never know that I used to avoid spicy food. I loved it.

Then, they took me on a tour of Namsangol Hanok village, one of the traditional-style villages that are open for tourists, and afterwards, Young-Kyeong took me to Namsan (Nam Mountain) Tower (the aforementioned phallic symbol, which doubles as a lookout tower). Here's a sampling:

I am peeking through a Gisaeng (gee-sayng) cutout, Korea's version of geisha.

Young-Kyeong, in queen's garb.

In-Jeong, I think? In "nice lady" clothes.

Portrait view of Namsan Tower.

Chonggyecheon (Chonggye Stream), which makes a semi-circle around downtown Seoul and deadends in the Hangang (Han River). It's an old (OLD) highway, I think, that was unearthed and converted into a stream about 10 years ago in an effort to make the city greener.

Trees, then skyscrapers, then trees on top of skyscrapers. (@andmyfeetare it's okay if you replace "trees" with "buildings," as long as you don't replace trees with buildings.)

In Namsan Tower viewing deck, @bird_esque. You can tell we're doing a touristy thing because I was not the only Caucasian person there.

@warmandbarky, Buenos Aires was behind the candy machines.

Young-Kyeong, next to the window looking towards her hometown, Busan (on the southern/southeastern coast of Korea).

Hello, U.S.A. How are things?

Y'know, tevs.

Horizontal lines of yellow lights = bridges across the Hangang; vertical lines of light = lights lining the river docks. I <3 the river at night.

my address (attempt #2)

As far as I can tell, I've received everything that was sent to me. But it takes a really long time, about two weeks. And Park Mi-Ran and I have collaboratively guessed that the delay could be due to the fact that the addresses are written only in English, and I've gathered from teh internetz that addresses written in English have about a 90% chance of reaching me. So, here is my address in Korean, one more time (there was an error in the first Korean address I posted), enlarged for your copying convenience. I recommend that you either write both complete addresses, or write the Korean address only with "South Korea" written in English under it. I also recommend that you write my name in both English and Korean.

파멜라스타시 (Pamela Stacey)
서울시 관악구 봉천동883-8
406 호
SOUTH KOREA

I'm asking a lot of you, I know, but if you only knew how happy postcards make me.

I've gone this whole time without finding any postcards for sale anywhere, but today, I finally did a touristy thing, a lo-and-behold, there was a souvenir shop. First wave of postcards goes out as soon as I find all of your addresses (which I know I have somewhere in the bowels of the fb/my email archives) and a foreigner-friendly post office.

Heartz.

물화과 / mul-hwa-gwa / figs

Rotten ones. I bought them for ₩10,000 (about $9) at Nandaemun public market yesterday when I came upon them, even though they were expensive and for no other reason than nostalgia for my London days. I fucking love figs. About 2/3 of the fruit was totally awesome, and the remaining figs had just reached the bad side of overripe.

Figuring prominently in recent news: my struggle to cut the cord with the teacher who is most persistent about her desire to learn English and teach me Korean. It's not that I mind helping the teachers with their English, and I definitely do want their help learning Korean. But this teacher (Kim Yeon) does so in ways that consistently aggravate me and prevent me from doing the work that I am being paid to do. Often, she interrupts me when I am designing lesson plans or having important conversations with the other English teachers. She must have her own work to do, since she teaches too, but you wouldn't know it to see her. She spends a ridiculous amount of time wandering the hallways or teachers' offices doing nothing but randomly interrupting people who can speak English to engage in (usually pointless and insipid) conversation with her.

Two weeks ago, she was quite excited to invite me out to dinner and shopping at Nandaemun market, and at the time I thought it could do no harm - so I agreed. But ever since, I've been regretting it. Up until yesterday, she did nothing but brag to the other teachers about how she was taking me out to dinner. Then yesterday, we went out to dinner/the market. The market was cool, but then she proceeded to run her own menial errands one after another (buying groceries, getting her earrings cleaned, buying a golfing hat, buying lotion and perfume). This was not part of the plan, but since I was relying on her for the ride home, I could do nothing but follow as she dragged me along.

I found the whole ordeal exhausting, and her behavior extremely rude, for the most part. And all day today, she did nothing but brag to the other teachers about how we went out together last night. I have no desire to be rude to this woman in return, but I find that I'm increasingly unwilling to tolerate her constant rude interruptions and wasting of my time. And increasingly, my co-workers (especially the younger generation of teachers) are confiding in me that they consider Kim Yeon rude as well. I don't want to create a conflict, but honestly, it seems like many of the teachers are already in conflict over her behavior, and that my arrival (and her subsequent interest in me) have simply augmented the conflict.

So in other words, the office drama has begun.

Finally, key points to remember for the midterm:

1. I have a fake tattoo of a black cat on my shoulder.
2. Teachers' choir performed today for the school festival. The students were shocked to see me singing Korean.
3. I got my first paycheck today! ...But have extremely limited access to banks, since they don't open until after I get to work but close before I get out. (@Sara&Justin: stand by for news on how I will get the airplane ticket money back to you.)
4. I went to tango lesson on Monday, but discovered that a) Tango O Nada is more expensive than advertised; b) most of the people who come attend as couples; and c) lessons and milongas are entirely in open embrace. I am going to try to find another tango place that suits me better.
5. Lotus flower roots. I ate them.
6. Lotus is 연 (yeon) in Korean, same as Kim Yeon.

Questions will be multiple choice with a small written component.

First let me apologize for this post's title, which is: "In fair Seoul, where we lay our scene."

Wow, that hurt a little.

One of the third grade students (I don't teach third grade), Han Tae-Gyu (his name almost rhymes with Montague, which I think is why I remember it) snuck up behind me as I was leaving the subway this morning, pointed his fingers at me, and said "Freeze!" - then, was immediately concerned that I hadn't known he was joking.

He's one of my favorites. (Yes, I have favorites, okay?) I don't have class with him, but sometime last week he approached me (again, as we both exited the subway), asked if my name was "Pah-may-l(r)ah, right?" and introduced himself. "So, we are friends now?"

He's very eager, both to learn English and to teach me Korean. Unlike most of my first- and second-graders, he doesn't shut down completely when I misinterpret or fail to understand him, but (with a bit of encouragement) persists until we understand each other. It's. So. Refreshing. Today, he taught me 또바 (ddo-ba), an informal way to say goodbye between friends. It means "I will see you again."

He will graduate high school in February, then go to study at an electronics university in Seoul (this is unusual. Most of my students will not go to college - but Tae-Gyu seems to have a strong desire to learn and do well). Then, he will join the army after college for his mandatory military service. For two years. I'd almost forgotten that Korea has compulsory military service for men, but how lovely to be reminded that my students have yet another element of their lives that has been removed from their control.

Bitter, a little, and unwilling to delve into the multitudes of problems that come along with having a [gender-based] draft. But also remembering that SoKo still has good reason to maintain a strong national defense. 또바.

blogger is an asshat when it comes to uploading videos.

An old video taken during orientation, of the second performance we encountered on the stage halfway up the small mountain. The beginning reminds me of a womb/amniotic sac, which is the main reason I took the video.


This is the drummer lady we watched at the vegetarian temple restaurant. I couldn't figure out how to rotate it back the right way, so you'll have to deal. I love the ostentatious bows on her butt.


They REALLY like "My Heart Will Go On" here. WTF?

"It's been long time since I drunk."

The Seoul skyline from the top of Umyeon Mountain, behind Park Mi-Ran's house. The string of yellow lights marks the Han River (which divides Seoul into it's north and south districts). A little beyond that, the little vertical sliver of white light is Namsang Tower, Seoul's great phallic symbol, built on top of another mountain.

Today was a wonderful day.

It started with sleeping in, then lounging about on the internet, then lounging to my local supermarket to pick out a nice wine to give to Park Mi-Ran as thanks.

Then, Park Mi-Ran met me at her subway stop (about 30 minutes from my place by subway), and we went grocery shopping to buy the ingredients for dinner: sweet potato noodles, finely sliced beef, fresh spinach and carrots and mushrooms, etc. Back to her place to cook dinner together and swoon over Brad Pitt (she was in the middle of watching The Curious Case of Benjamin Button when she came to pick me up, so we finished watching it while making dinner).

First, we boiled water and dipped each spinach leaf in the water for a few seconds (just enough to soften it). The spinach was then squeezed dry and mixed with minced garlic.

Next, we chopped the carrots and onions and sauteed them with sesame oil and salt. Then, We thinly sliced the mushrooms and mixed them with the beef, then added salt, sugar, soy sauce, sesame oil, and tuna oil to the beef/mushroom bowl. Next: fry the beef/mushrooms.

Finally, we boiled the sweet potato noodles, then rinsed them with cold water. Everything was mixed together and dressed with more soy sauce for the final dish. Dinner was served with kimchi (obviously), chicken salad, beans and rice, and anchovies. I did not partake of the anchovies.

After dinner, a spot of watching America's Next Top Model with Park Mi-Ran's daughter, who is about to graduate from high school and attend industrial design school in the States. Then, off to night-hike Umyeon Mountain. We met up with her husband, who had just gotten back to the city after golfing in the suburbs all day, and they lent me a headlamp and a walking stick. Up, up, up. I was sweaty and exhausted by the top, but it was lovely, and so was the view. There was no one else on the mountain, so we got the peace and quiet all to ourselves. On the way down, there were Buddhist monks singing their evening prayers at Daesungsa temple, half-way up the mountain.

At the bottom: Seoul's version of a musical fountain, and nachos and beers with Park Mi-Ran and her husband. Discovered that Mi-Ran is a lightweight (courtesy of the title quote), and on the walk back to the subway station, shocked both of them by reading the names of buildings in Korean. Mi-Ran has proclaimed that after December, she will only speak Korean to me, and then proceeded to tell me how sincere I seem in my desire to both learn about Korea and teach English to the students.

That's all I can hope for, isn't it? My confidence is up. Am I doing well here?

My laundry machine just played me a song to let me know it was finished, so that's all for tonight. Love, peace, etc. to you all.

tango, or NOTHING.

NOTHING, you understand?

@bird_esque @warmandbarky @gambolholic I FUCKING FOUND IT.

Starting this week, Monday nights are tango lesson&milonga nights for me. Hold me to that, will you?

My co-workers are all very consistently concerned (part 2): that I don't like spicy food. Which is true, usually. Those of you who have gone with me to Indian restaurants know this well.

But my former habits notwithstanding, I've been eating everything I think I can stomach from the school cafeteria - which means a helluva lot of spicy food. I don't even blink at kimchi anymore. And I'm pretty sure that my spice tolerance has gone up significantly over the course of the past month. (Sidenote: I'VE BEEN HERE A MONTH. WEIRD.) At first, I needed to drink cold water after every meal and my mouth would still burn for 10 minutes or so... but now my mouth doesn't burn at all, and more and more frequently I join my co-teachers for hot rice tea immediately following the meals.

All of that, with one notable exception: Wednesday this week, I took a serving of hard-boiled egg cooked in soy sauce with vegetables that I thought looked like sweet peas. Hey, I love sweet peas! I'll take a big bite of them. But as we all know, they were hot peppers, not sweet peas. My mouth flamed and my eyes watered profusely, and I had a good laugh about it with the other teacher (all of whom had known to avoid the hot peppers, of course). Now, every time they tell me about a Korean food I haven't eaten before, they say: "It's a little spicy, but less spicy than hot peppers." Giggle giggle. It's great.

I taught shy girl again today, and she spoke! Just a little, just for a second, but it made me really happy and relieved.

Thursday after work, I was invited to join the teachers' meditation club, and why not? I've never really tried it before, but now seemed like the perfect time.

It lasted two hours. There was a professional meditation therapist visiting the school this week, so the club took 4 times as long as it usually does. And everyone went around and shared their feelings in Korean - I had no idea sharing feelings was a part of meditation! - and of course, I was the only one who spoke in English (though there were 3-4 people there who could what I was saying). Several of the teachers shared their feelings for extended periods of time, and many of the club members started crying while they were talking. I felt really awk. It probably would have been really emotional if we spoke the same language, but as it was, I just didn't understand.

Parts of it I really enjoyed, and found useful. But I don't know how I feel (hehe) about the sharing of feelings at the beginning and end of the session. I haven't decided if I'll return to the club or not. It meets every Thursday.

Teachers' choir is wonderful. After practice today, they served snacks which tasted like Devil's Food cookies. Only they were chocolate-dipped rice cakes. Dduk dduk dduk. Man, that chocolate really hit the spot.

Tomorrow evening, I'm visiting Park Mi-Ran's house. She's offered to teach me how to make [a dinner dish the name of which I can't remember, which consists of sweet potato noodles, served cold with steamed vegetables and suchlike], and then take me night-time hiking with her husband and her on the mountain next to her house. Lordy-Lou.

The End! Heartz.

trot,

you know, old people dancing music.

Next Friday: school festival. I will serve popcorn at the English movie theater room, sing Korean songs in the teachers' choir, and probably be goaded into getting fake tattoos (giggle, giggle) by my office gossip friends (the youngest of all the teachers, the ones who sometimes try to set me up on blind dates, the two girls I can joke and be non-pc with). I love them, and hate them, and love them. I have no doubt they would both be shocked if they knew I had a real tattoo.

But the point was: TEACHERS' CHOIR. IN KOREAN. We have begun to meet at 3:30 every day to practice our 3 songs until 4:10 (when we all leave school). I can't read Korean fast enough to keep up with the lyrics, but I'm hoping to memorize them in my spare time, and FUCK, I LOVE IT ANYWAY. It reminds me of middle school choir, only more awkward. They keep trying to convince me to do a solo, but frankly, I'd rather pee myself.

I don't know what to say about the whole "teaching" part. It's a constant struggle. I'm never sure whether I'm doing a good job or not. Disconcerting, etc. I don't teach shy girl again until Friday.

Now, I am going to go eat a sandwich.

oh so smoothie

"Mr. Pizza: Love for Women." I don't really understand why they chose this slogan, but damn, that pepper, onion, olive, and corn veggie pizza hit the fucking spot. Mmmm, cheese.

No comment.

(@bird_esque @warmandbarky @twcwar @gambolholic @andmyfeetare: Yes, I'm so glad you asked. It just so happens that I do measure my days in those cool thick and creamies.)

The hangul-ization on the right of "Smoothie King" says: Suh-moo-tee-keeng, by the way.

lotus lanterns, mountain vegetables

Sanchon Temple Vegetarian Restaurant, in Insadong district, about a 50 minute subway journey from my place. Lots of Buddhist-inspired stores and restaurants and temples in this area.

Lotus lanterns!

Tofu, potato, zucchini, onion soup. Warm and savory.

Teapot, tofu and seaweed. Bland.

Breaded mushrooms. Like french fries, only chewier.

Breaded zucchini and squash.

Seaweed, mountain vegetables, radishes, unnamed things.

Mountain vegetables, mountain vegetables, mountain vegetables. Spicy mountain vegetables.

Top: vegetarian kimchi; left: potatoes; bottom: celery? rhubarb? some type of root? cooked in sesame sauce. Very tasty.

Top: bland rice pudding; left: seaweed soup; bottom: woody-tasting tea.

While we ate, there were various dance performances going on in the center of the room. Above: chicken walk (?) made creepy and ghostlike by blacklights.

[Here, imagine that you are watching a video of a woman wearing a dress of colorful bows and drumming while spinning in circles. Blogger wouldn't upload it. Maybe I will try it again later.]

Drumming and rhythm, I have discovered, is quite fundamental to Korean music and dance.

They made me get up in the center of the room and wave a fan about while other audience members danced and drummed around me. Anji decided it was a brilliant idea to document me looking silly.

the mountains climb themselves

1. 무궁화, mugunghwa (mugung = eternal, hwa = flower), hibiscus syriacus, rose of sharon: the national flower of Korea.


2. I just banged my knee against the corner of my desk, and then had the strangest urge to lick the tiny film of blood that has formed over the scratch.

3. When you say you like hiking here, be prepared to follow through. They don't fuck around with hiking. Two of my co-workers have taken me hiking over the mountain behind the school so far, and many more offers are pouring in from others to take me mountain climbing on weekends. Wednesday's steep climb made me want to die (but in a really good, happy way). Some of my co-workers hike over the mountain to work. Contemplating joining them.

4. Lesson planning, lesson planning, revising, lesson planning, "do you have any suggestions?", revising, lesson planning. Most of my C-level kids can't read English.

5. I made a 2nd grade girl cry today, then felt like a useless turd for the rest of the day. The first day I taught her class, I made all of the students do short introductions of themselves in English. She was shy, that day, and it was obvious to me that she didn't want to get up and introduce herself, and she wouldn't meet my eyes, etc.... but golly. Today I asked the students to practice a dialogue in pairs for a few minutes, and when I got to her and her partner to check up on them, they weren't talking. So I asked them if they had any questions. Do you understand? Do you what I asked you to do? Are the words hard? Do you need help pronouncing them? No response. Her table partner tried urging her in Korean. My co-teacher, Shin-Jeung, came over and tried urging her in Korean. She wouldn't speak in Korean or English, wouldn't meet our eyes. Please try, please repeat what I say (pointing to the dialogue). Nothing. This is English conversation class, you have to try to speak. Don't worry, you can do it. Please try. She started tearing up. Oh, fuck. I didn't mean to make you cry! Next class, I said, I'm going to ask you to speak again. Finally, a nod of comprehension, and a meeting of my eyes. What on earth should I do? How do I help her?

6. Goddamnit, stop serving fish patties for lunch. But those pheasant eggs are delicious, mmhmmm.

7. Just discovered aloe juice with aloe pulp at the supermarket. This might well replace my love affair with mango juice.

8. I feel overextended. Can you tell that I feel overextended?

9. But sometimes, over-extension makes me happy. Maybe this is one of those times.

10. The mosquitoes here have quick reflexes. Think killing mosquitoes is easy? American mosquitoes are lazy. Korean mosquitoes are fast. It land on your foot --> you start thinking about your foot --> that damn-ass mosquito is out that bitch. Tricky mind readers.

I just killed one, though, that had been torturing me for a half-hour. Damn, I love killing mosquitoes.

Shy-Pam waxes melodramatic,

or, on how exhausting it is for me to constantly hold myself open to people/the world:

Remember the day before
I left? I told you I was nervous but
what I meant was: help,
my sternum's been cracked open. Though,
[they said] this will hurt less than two
holes under your breasts, though [they
[promised] here, can't you breathe better
now?

Later, the clamp got stuck [though, etc.] Self-
locking [they said], stainless steel. Sterilized, no
fever, don't
concern yourself, [they said] though the streets are
dirty here and, I don't know,
the swine flu? No wires sewing me together, chest
spread-eagled - I can't breathe better now, I
can't breathe now, I
can't.

Saturdays to Grandmother's

Pines, bamboo,
bean field, bean field,
sesame.
Saturdays, I knew
the smell of sesame.

Sesame smell makes me
remember grandmother.

Past the sesame,
board the ferryboat.
White bearded ferryman with the top knot,
tall and thin as the carved guardian pole.
He rowed me over.
I climbed out at the hill.

Sesame field,
sesame, bean,
then past sesame and bean,
bamboo and pine.
In the pine grove, resin smell
made me long for her
even more.

-So Chongju

oh. hello, home.

The foreign used bookstore in the international district, Itaewon.

How I am going to cook for myself and make vegetarian versions of Korean food.

Soon, I will know something about Korean literature.

So Chongju in translation, poems about his life during the Japanese occupation.

How I am going to teach myself Korean.

Because there are four owls and the words "THEN SHE CAME" in this book. Incidentally, the children's books were right next to / mixed in with the romance novels.

Interior of Noksapyeong Subway Station, one of the stops for Itaewon and the biggest subway station I've ever seen.

The only way this could be better is if it was "Thunder Chicken" instead (@bird_esque).

awkward Korean soap operas / who wants to be a millionaire?

First day of teaching is over, and I think I did okay? I think my first-grade classes went a lot better than the second-grade classes, mainly because they've asked me to stick more closely to the book (which is rather boring) for the second grade.

I've tweaked my lesson plans for tomorrow, in the hopes that the wrinkles will be ironed out. For some reason, teaching is turning out not to be nearly the nerve-wracking experience I expected it to be - perhaps partially due to the help I receive from my co-teachers, and partially due to my newly-formed-and-steadily-growing love of the spotlight.

Today, pork bulgogi, seaweed and shrimp soup, sweet potato noodles with chicken, more radish kimchi with spicy shrimp sauce. What on earth have I gotten myself into.

Also, Park Mi-Ran brought me a whole raw tomato for breakfast this morning. Does she have a knack for picking out foods that I normally avoid? Granted, this one was a lot easier to get down than the tuna-fish and caviar. But still. It's awfully kind of her and I appreciate the gesture... but I really wish she'd stop.

My neighbors,

or what they call "Love Motels" here. They line the streets in my neighborhood. In some places there is literally nothing on the street but motels. Any guesses?

The obvious choice (for me, at least) was rent-by-the-hour motels, used pretty exclusively for sex. To some extent, this is correct - but the day I moved into my apartment (exactly one week ago), I was told by my co-teacher that while it wasn't dangerous to roam the small by-streets around my apartment by night, it wasn't exactly a good idea.

Which, in conjunction with information flowing in from all quarters that many Koreans assume all western women to be sluts, has led me to the conclusion that while I wouldn't be in any danger if I walked around my neighborhood late at night, it's fairly likely that I would be solicited for sex in one of the conveniently located hotels. All in all, it appears that the prostitution industry is more thriving in Korea than in the U.S. - or at least much more visible.

I haven't really tested this theory. After all, my weekdays start at 6 a.m., and you all know how much I love my sleep. The latest I've been out is about 10 p.m. thus far, and I didn't linger on the streets.

In other news, I let Heathcliff out into the sunshine today, and received a slightly higher percentage of stares on the streets and subways. One old Korean man greeted me in English, then pointed to Heathcliff and giggled. It was great.

My co-workers are all very consistently concerned that I am not eating enough,

so my co-teacher, Park Mi-Ran, brought me breakfast at work this morning. It was a tuna fish and caviar rice cake sandwich.

Oh, lordy. Fish makes me want to vomit, quite literally. It's really hard to get it down past my gag reflex. But if I've made one rule for myself here, it's to go to any lengths and all costs to be respectful and welcoming towards everyone I meet here, especially my co-workers. So I took it, made myself a large cup of strong green tea, and got the sandwich down bite by bite while making pre-class small talk with the English teachers. I had a bit of a stomach ache afterward, which could have been from the caviar (which I have never eaten before), or could have been from the fish, which I haven't eaten for a long, long time, far before I officially became a vegetarian.

My school got a new principal and vice-principal this week, so all week the school has been celebrating by showering us with snacks of dduk, shikka (a rice drink which tastes vaguely like rice milk, only sweeter), and walnut-cookie-red-bean-paste-filled snacks whose name I can't remember. I didn't even eat lunch today, I was so full from all of the snacks. Again, my co-workers expressed extreme concern that I wasn't getting enough food. :)

Though I'm still officially only doing introductions in each class I go to, I've started taking the leading role in the classes, a state which I think will continue once I officially start teaching next week. Invitations to join other teachers for coffee and snacks continue in plenty. Today, I visited the office of [Fuck! I can't remember her name! I swear I'm trying hard, but there are so many new names to remember]. Of all my co-workers, she is probably the most excited to see me, and the most eager to learn English from me. She frequently seeks me out to chat, and generally greets me with "Pah-may-lah, Pamela, Pamela" in a sing-song voice. During my visit today, I was served fresh-brewed coffee (!!) by my eager lady and her co-worker, who both teach electronics classes, and was told to come by their office if I ever wanted fresh coffee or expresso. Omfg, they have an expresso machine. Let's be friends. All I've had since I got to Seoul is instant coffee, and I am so, so tired of it.

The classes I've led/participated in are going pretty well so far. The lower level students are really challenging to teach, since they have no motivation whatsoever to learn English, but hopefully I will find some ways to make them more interested as the year goes on. The medium- and upper-level classes are usually really fun. They students are very curious about me, for the most part, and eager to ask me questions. One of the B-level girls asked Yong-gyeun to take a picture of me and her (the student) on her cell-phone today. I was cuted out.

After school today, I went exploring about my neighborhood, and managed to find a nearby supermarket (up until now, I've been subsisting on market stalls and convenience stores) and stationary shop (where I will buy the things to write to you all). So far, I haven't seen one postcard stand in Seoul, but I think that's because I haven't been in any of the touristy areas yet. Have no fear; I've no intentions of letting the absence of postcards get in the way of me sending you things. In the future, I'm going to try to set aside frequent days for exploring my neighborhood in ever-widening circles until I know the location of everything that I could ever possibly want or need.

Love, peace, heartz.

Korea is:

-oily - like an egg yolk, but crimson, hemorrhaging in the womb
-tree-trunk legs
-my long skirts flip-flapping out in front of me as the subway wind spits at me
-the sudden sense of loss when the train moves from rooftop gardens, back underground
-like the week I spent thinking my co-workers were gossiping about me in my presence, not knowing that Park Mi-Ran is the given name of my main co-teacher, who is always called Nicole around me. Slurred "r," silent "k," soft "n." "Pah-mee-rah(n)" - sounds a bit like Pamela, ne?

Being stared at constantly is already blasé. Indifference, where were you when I needed you in London?

I am watching an ostrich with a heart-shaped tongue to make myself feel less insane,

i.e., I now have a tv with cable, and I am using it almost exclusively to watch Korean cartoons.

Also, I'm constipated and bloated after the aforementioned foray into my meat-eating past (which I continued today with a chicken patty and boiled beef noodle soup). Ah, well. All things shall pass.

Yeun-gyun, my youngest co-teacher, took me to the immigration office to get my alien registration card today. It will be delivered in 10 days. She also offered to help me buy a cell phone, be my Seoul tour guide, teach me Korean, introduce me to her friends who are studying English at University, and show me around Korea University, one of the top Korean universities, which has a reputation for having a beautiful campus. Everyone is so nice and helpful! Even the Korean teachers who speak little to no English go out of their way to introduce themselves to me and invite me to have tea and rice cakes with them during break time.

Wait, the talking eel in the cartoon just died after falling off of a waterfall! And one of the frogs almost got eaten by an owl! Whaaaaaa? Korean cartoons actually portray death and danger in a realistic and saddening way? I can't handle all of this emotion.

just to see if it'd suit me. The sheets were cool and a fine talc of dust lay everywhere

The view out my apartment window.

View #2

In the distance, behind buildings upon buildings, small mountains that I wish I was closer to.

Tiny doorway.

Tiny bathroom.

Tiny kitchen.

"Studio apartment"

Seoul Electronics high school, surrounded by hills and forests and trails. :)