It looks like this is going to end up being a pretty hefty entry this week, so I think I'll break it up into two parts.
I've come down with my first illness here in Korea, a Korean flu bug or cough or something. It wasn't too bad, I'm still expecting something to come along and pound me into the ground and put me to bed for a week. The worst of it came over the weekend, which was no fun at all. At least during the week I can stay home and sleep, but we had plans to go hiking this weekend and, with a little convincing from Shannon, I managed to keep them.
We went hiking up a mountain known as Mt. Wolchulsan, which I'm sure has some kind of spiritual significance, and is one of the tallest peaks in the region.
Like everything else, Koreans go about hiking in their own way, unlike anything I've seen anywhere else. There were generally two types of Koreans going up the hill - those who just wore whatever they would wear on a regular weekend afternoon (jeans, t-shirts, etc.) and those who were "geared to the extreme" with hiking poles, boots, waterproof-breathables, etc. They even put bells on their backpacks to, well, I never was able to figure out quite why.
I unfortunately don't hike enough to know what constitutes a crowded trail in Canada, but I'm pretty sure nothing will quite compare with the route we took at Wolchulsan. For the last hour or so going up (3 1/2 up, 3 down) it was "face-to-behind" hikers, with 10-30 second waits at times as people scrambled around more difficult spots. And once we reached the top, it was a mad-house of hikers, their kids, picture taking and just plain crowded-ness.
Still, it was a pretty stellar day, and I managed to make it through without collapsing, though I slept for over 14 hours that night. We're going to have some pictures up on flickr real soon, at which point I'll add a link to it so you can check 'em out. In the meantime, a friend put his up at http://www.flickr.com/photos/thedumpinghole/sets/72157594296130014/
We've finally become a little more mobile in the here country, as Shannon and I have picked up a couple of bikes. Oh, the terror it's gonna be riding down the Korean streets - for a people that conforms to what's normally accepted, they certainly seem to have no regard for traffic laws and expectations. We're definitely getting helmets, which will bump the total helmet wearing population of the city to 5, all of us being waygooks.
I'm learning more and more about what it's going to be like working with Korean's for the next year, as many people in our ex-pat community have some wild stories to tell. One of the most bizarre was "School Boot Camp". The poor kids, I don't know how they manage to get through traumatic events like this. For two days, they were put through nasty physical exercises and psychological torment. After being divided by gender, they would be given tasks such as 100 jumping jacks to be done in unison. Anyone gets out of line, and it's back to zero again for everyone. Then the same with pushups. Then situps, and on and on. And at night, it got really cruel.
The kids were all taken from their bunks just before going to sleep, and brought to a big candle ceremony of sorts. Sounds neat, right? Well, the teacher at this event (in case you forgot, it was a friend doing this, not me), is kind of enjoying this, though she can't understand what the speaker is saying. The kids however, as she turns around to look at them, are all bawling. Every one of them is crying his or her eyes out. It seems the speaker was telling the children that one day their parents would be dead, so they should respect them now while they're alive. Why, they might even be dead before they made it home from boot camp.
So life as a kid can be tough here (there's some more wickedness ahead to be told), and I think a lot of it has to do with the adults being a little nuts. Korean teachers will occassionally go on group vacations or tours, and I've met two waygooks who have joined their teachers on one of these overnight excursions.
The first was a sightseeing trip to some nearby city. They charted a bus, and took off for a 3 or 4 hour trip. The English teacher on this, Chad, was a little nervous about the trip, and I don't think he had a lot of fun. It was mere minutes before the Koreans were Norebonging (karaoke) on the bus. Not so bad at first, but once they started in on the drinking, they cranked the volume to maximum distortion levels, and just went all out for the next two hours. They reached their first destination, a mountain look-out. 10 minutes of picture taking later, back on the bus for 2 more hours of drunken norebonging. One more 10 minute photo-stop, and they arrived at their intended destination, where they all went out for dinner and, yup, norebong. I think Chad managed to sneak away and get some sleep around this point, but the unavoidable 2 hour bus ride home was another norebong filled adventure, and I don't think he'll ever go on a trip with his teachers again.
Another friend, Brent, went on his teachers overnighter with his girlfriend Steph as well. The teachers at his school went to the nearby island called Jeju, a sub-tropical place that's supposed to be amazing. He had quite a bit of personal space from his teachers, and it wasn't until the evening's activities that things got a little strange.
After a nice big dinner, they went to a jazz bar for drinks and dancing, and were eventually treated to a traditional Korean dance. Sort of, anyway. Despite the fancy costumes and dancing, it turned out just to be a stripper in pasties and a g-string. Now, this would normally be enough to freak a person out, and might have merited inclusion in the blog here, but it got even worse. Across from Brent was one of the more senior (older) teachers, and the dancer started doing her thing around him, and there, with all his coworkers sitting at the table, this older dude grabs a dollar bill and with the care and precision of a neuro-surgeon, places the bill as deep and far down this girl's g-string as he could (and I think she) could handle. Then, as she turns away to make it a little more difficult for this guy, he takes for himself a mouthful of her breast.
(Carried on in next entry)
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Taking the Good With the Bad Pt.2
(Continued from last entry)
Most of this behaviour, which we foreigners find so bizarre but the Koreans take as normal, stems from (I believe) the social heirarchy established in the country from hundreds of years of confucianism. It has it's ups and downs, though the downs seem to be much more noticeable to me.
Age has a big thing to do with a person's status. Old people will regularily budge in front of you in lineups and get annoyed at you if you don't give them their way. You shouldn't disagree with them, you shouldn't touch them (though they can touch you), and you must be respectful.
So, while the elderly here enjoy a level of respect not generally found at home (not to be rude at all, but the term "useless" and "senile" don't seem to ever come into play when talking about elders here), they have the ability to walk all over young people. Middle aged men are like demi-gods, physically fit, older than most of the co-workers, and while they are responsible for everything, they are required to do little or nothing at all.
I also saw an elderly (40's or 50's maybe?) lady give crap to a homeless man. She was walking down the street, saw this dude squatting down begging for change (they don't sit here, they squat generally), and started giving him grief. While I couldn't understand what she was saying, his and her body language gave me the impression she was telling him to "get it together" and stop being such a waste of space. She then gave him a few good smacks with her umbrella. Poor guy.
As with age, gender also gives status, and men are seen as superior to women. This leads to different levels of mysogeny and abuse, and while I haven't seen or felt the presence of it, I've been told spousal abuse can be as high as 30% of married couples.
What I have seen is abused children, which I've come across a few times now at school. There has been a few young girls now who have come to school with massive black eyes, and I'm convinced it's not from playing around with their friends. There's still not a lot of support for situations like that here, and there can be as many problems with reporting it as there can be with not.
What's really scary (sorry to be dwelling on the bad stuff, but it's on my mind today) is how things are so closely tied with the drinking of soju here. Soju is cheap, and drinking is common, hence, accepted. Normally well-behaved Korean men easily turn into drunk, aggressive and scary people, and while I haven't seen any very aggressive types, there's been many encounters with public drunks now, often running up to us to talk, dragging us one way or another, and just generally getting in the way. For some reason they usually seem to be peeing as we come across them.
Not everyone is like this, and I've met quite a few nice Koreans so far. It does help account for why so many foreign guys date (and marry) Korean women - friendly, they do housework, complain little and "know their place" - while foreign women date Korean men so rarely - expecting women to do housework, they take care of money and family worries, need to feel in charge and act dominant.
Hmmm, a coworker just came in and gave me a Chuseok (like Thanksgiving at home) present. It's a giant box of mushrooms. A little bizarre, but that's what's done here, and I guess they think I'm an okay kinda guy.
Okay, enough for now, I've nearly worn the keys off the keyboard here. I'll be back next Monday as that seems to be my regular writing time. Thanks for your time and for reading my yammerings, I love hearing from everyone so keep the comments coming!
Most of this behaviour, which we foreigners find so bizarre but the Koreans take as normal, stems from (I believe) the social heirarchy established in the country from hundreds of years of confucianism. It has it's ups and downs, though the downs seem to be much more noticeable to me.
Age has a big thing to do with a person's status. Old people will regularily budge in front of you in lineups and get annoyed at you if you don't give them their way. You shouldn't disagree with them, you shouldn't touch them (though they can touch you), and you must be respectful.
So, while the elderly here enjoy a level of respect not generally found at home (not to be rude at all, but the term "useless" and "senile" don't seem to ever come into play when talking about elders here), they have the ability to walk all over young people. Middle aged men are like demi-gods, physically fit, older than most of the co-workers, and while they are responsible for everything, they are required to do little or nothing at all.
I also saw an elderly (40's or 50's maybe?) lady give crap to a homeless man. She was walking down the street, saw this dude squatting down begging for change (they don't sit here, they squat generally), and started giving him grief. While I couldn't understand what she was saying, his and her body language gave me the impression she was telling him to "get it together" and stop being such a waste of space. She then gave him a few good smacks with her umbrella. Poor guy.
As with age, gender also gives status, and men are seen as superior to women. This leads to different levels of mysogeny and abuse, and while I haven't seen or felt the presence of it, I've been told spousal abuse can be as high as 30% of married couples.
What I have seen is abused children, which I've come across a few times now at school. There has been a few young girls now who have come to school with massive black eyes, and I'm convinced it's not from playing around with their friends. There's still not a lot of support for situations like that here, and there can be as many problems with reporting it as there can be with not.
What's really scary (sorry to be dwelling on the bad stuff, but it's on my mind today) is how things are so closely tied with the drinking of soju here. Soju is cheap, and drinking is common, hence, accepted. Normally well-behaved Korean men easily turn into drunk, aggressive and scary people, and while I haven't seen any very aggressive types, there's been many encounters with public drunks now, often running up to us to talk, dragging us one way or another, and just generally getting in the way. For some reason they usually seem to be peeing as we come across them.
Not everyone is like this, and I've met quite a few nice Koreans so far. It does help account for why so many foreign guys date (and marry) Korean women - friendly, they do housework, complain little and "know their place" - while foreign women date Korean men so rarely - expecting women to do housework, they take care of money and family worries, need to feel in charge and act dominant.
Hmmm, a coworker just came in and gave me a Chuseok (like Thanksgiving at home) present. It's a giant box of mushrooms. A little bizarre, but that's what's done here, and I guess they think I'm an okay kinda guy.
Okay, enough for now, I've nearly worn the keys off the keyboard here. I'll be back next Monday as that seems to be my regular writing time. Thanks for your time and for reading my yammerings, I love hearing from everyone so keep the comments coming!
Monday, September 18, 2006
How Far Stupid Takes You
As the struggles of language barriers and miscommunications continue, I've found that feigning stupidity is often the easiest solution to a challenging situation. For example, when trying to locate photocopy paper, it's much easier to ask someone to photocopy what you need rather than try and fix exactly what's wrong (plus the other person always seems proud to have solved the problem that was originally plaguing you). Often asking a person the same question 4 or 5 times has to be done, that way you can determine which answer is the most likely one, as usually every response given will be different (it took 4 teachers nearly a week to figure out what my thanksgiving holidays were). And of course, if someone asks you a question you know you could never properly explain with out a dictionary, an interpreter and the acrobatic-charading ability of a olympic gymnast, it's always easier to say "I don't know" and leave it be.
Teaching children however does not leave any of these options, and I'm quickly becoming a v-e-r-y s-l-o-w t-a-l-k-e-r, capable of charading the first three stanzas of any top 40 song without missing a beat. I teach grade 1-6, I have no co-teacher (I run all the lessons on my own, though usually there is a Korean teacher in the room to help translate and tell the kids to shut up), and most of the kids think I'm awesome, though sometimes it's hard to be impartial when the kids with strong English are so much easier to work with.
Most Korean kids are pretty darn cute, and you rarely see any of the mutant-type kids that you get at home. If you have a spiky haired, pointy headed, buck toothed, bug eyed, big eared little caucasian kid, you've got something awful on your hands. In Korea, they pull it off pretty well. Though something happens to them around the 4th or 5th grade. With the guys I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think it mostly has to do with kids coming up with an identity and style to call their own. Their parents no longer choose their hair cut or clothes, and, well I guess it's just like home. Except the number of girls who suddenly spawn these horrific, nasty, 40-year-old woman mullets is surreal! There's this terrible triangle chunk of bangs that starts near the top of their head and spreads nearly to their ears. I guess they find it attractive, but I have a feeling these girls think living in a dumpy trailer park in the US is exotic.
There's about 200 or so "waygooks" in Mokpo here, and it's quite an interesting community. While no one "knows" everyone, you "know of" everyone in town, and suddenly the city of 300,000 really does feel like a tiny Canadian hamlet community. For anyone who's never lived abroud, I'm told it's no different than the minority communities within Canada, and I now find it a little less bizarre that I would see Polish or Irish or Italian Community gatherings and events.
This weekend ended up being quite the party weekend for Shannon and I, and I learned a number of interesting things about this country and its nightlife:
1. The only people who look at you cock-eyed for playing twister in a bar are those who wish it was them playing.
2. The bars here don't close (in the places we go to anyway). The staff leave after the patrons, whether that's 3am or 8am.
3. Most waygooks such at singing. And the males are generally worse than the females. However what we lack in talent, we make up for in decibels.
4. Everyone in this town is crazy except for me. Which is funny, cause I'm pretty nuts.
Thanks for the comments Steph, it's great to hear that teaching is teaching, regarless of the country. Though I'm sure there are some different mannerisms between the Japanese and Koreans that would get a laugh from both of us. It's not that uncommon I'm finding for kids to pull (out) my arm hair here, for example.
Thanks for reading everyone, leave a comment if you have a moment.
Quick addition - trying to upload a photo, so I'm gonna put it here first, then see if I can stick in onto my blog profile.
Teaching children however does not leave any of these options, and I'm quickly becoming a v-e-r-y s-l-o-w t-a-l-k-e-r, capable of charading the first three stanzas of any top 40 song without missing a beat. I teach grade 1-6, I have no co-teacher (I run all the lessons on my own, though usually there is a Korean teacher in the room to help translate and tell the kids to shut up), and most of the kids think I'm awesome, though sometimes it's hard to be impartial when the kids with strong English are so much easier to work with.
Most Korean kids are pretty darn cute, and you rarely see any of the mutant-type kids that you get at home. If you have a spiky haired, pointy headed, buck toothed, bug eyed, big eared little caucasian kid, you've got something awful on your hands. In Korea, they pull it off pretty well. Though something happens to them around the 4th or 5th grade. With the guys I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think it mostly has to do with kids coming up with an identity and style to call their own. Their parents no longer choose their hair cut or clothes, and, well I guess it's just like home. Except the number of girls who suddenly spawn these horrific, nasty, 40-year-old woman mullets is surreal! There's this terrible triangle chunk of bangs that starts near the top of their head and spreads nearly to their ears. I guess they find it attractive, but I have a feeling these girls think living in a dumpy trailer park in the US is exotic.
There's about 200 or so "waygooks" in Mokpo here, and it's quite an interesting community. While no one "knows" everyone, you "know of" everyone in town, and suddenly the city of 300,000 really does feel like a tiny Canadian hamlet community. For anyone who's never lived abroud, I'm told it's no different than the minority communities within Canada, and I now find it a little less bizarre that I would see Polish or Irish or Italian Community gatherings and events.
This weekend ended up being quite the party weekend for Shannon and I, and I learned a number of interesting things about this country and its nightlife:
1. The only people who look at you cock-eyed for playing twister in a bar are those who wish it was them playing.
2. The bars here don't close (in the places we go to anyway). The staff leave after the patrons, whether that's 3am or 8am.
3. Most waygooks such at singing. And the males are generally worse than the females. However what we lack in talent, we make up for in decibels.
4. Everyone in this town is crazy except for me. Which is funny, cause I'm pretty nuts.
Thanks for the comments Steph, it's great to hear that teaching is teaching, regarless of the country. Though I'm sure there are some different mannerisms between the Japanese and Koreans that would get a laugh from both of us. It's not that uncommon I'm finding for kids to pull (out) my arm hair here, for example.
Thanks for reading everyone, leave a comment if you have a moment.
Quick addition - trying to upload a photo, so I'm gonna put it here first, then see if I can stick in onto my blog profile.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
I Loathe the Smell of Kimchi in the Morning...
While not being able to speak Korean is definitely a drawback while living here, it does provide a near limitless number of strange situations to try and muddle through. Communicating with my co-teachers is quickly becoming the biggest challenge, and while there are one or two strong English speakers, they're lower in the social heirarchy, and so many times I'm forced to discuss events with people who command a very limited vocabulary.
"Ah, Mr. Park. Dinner - where do we go?" I say very slowly.
"5 o'cloak." He replies.
"Time, yes, 5 o'clock. Where? Ga odie oseyo?"
"Yes, 5 o'cloak."
"Okay. Who is going?"
"Yes, feeshie. Fresh feeshie, no pire."
and the Konglish battle continues. So you know, we were having raw fish, or "fish, no fire".
Lying to each other has becoming a popular pastime here in Korea, one which I'm pretty sure no amount of miscommunication can account for. Many Koreans have told me my pronnunciation of Korean is very good. Okay, maybe, but they also tell me I'm a great singer and an excellent volleyball player. In return, I tell them I like kimchi for breakfast (pickled cabbage with red pepper sauce), and everybody's happy.
I had my first night out with my teachers this past week. While I knew it was going to be quite an experience, I was amazed at how comfortable they all became with me after a few drinks of soju (that Korean vodka like drink). It seems intoxication can transcend all language barriers, and as the night moved on, I seemed to be sharing deep philosphical conversations with Koreans using only gestures and mono-syllabic grunts.
We also went Norebonging (or more properly, to the Norebong. I don't know if I can put Norebong into a verb or not yet). It's like Japanese karaoke, but you have your own private room and the mic is set to a strange reverb setting which makes anyone who can't sing worth a darn sound like a drowning cat. This was where I was told my singing skills were pretty good, but I think that was just them trying to be polite - I was definitely playing the part of a drowning cat.
This weekend will be Shannon and my first chance to speak regular, non-broken English other than with each other for nearly a week. Our tiny contigent of foreigners has put together a boat trip in a city called Yeosu. It's going to be quite a challenge for any locals we run into - most of them only see a foreign face a few times a year, so coming across 60 or more of us yelling and mulling about may be too much to handle. I'm not kidding when I say they may ask one or two of us for an autograph.
"Ah, Mr. Park. Dinner - where do we go?" I say very slowly.
"5 o'cloak." He replies.
"Time, yes, 5 o'clock. Where? Ga odie oseyo?"
"Yes, 5 o'cloak."
"Okay. Who is going?"
"Yes, feeshie. Fresh feeshie, no pire."
and the Konglish battle continues. So you know, we were having raw fish, or "fish, no fire".
Lying to each other has becoming a popular pastime here in Korea, one which I'm pretty sure no amount of miscommunication can account for. Many Koreans have told me my pronnunciation of Korean is very good. Okay, maybe, but they also tell me I'm a great singer and an excellent volleyball player. In return, I tell them I like kimchi for breakfast (pickled cabbage with red pepper sauce), and everybody's happy.
I had my first night out with my teachers this past week. While I knew it was going to be quite an experience, I was amazed at how comfortable they all became with me after a few drinks of soju (that Korean vodka like drink). It seems intoxication can transcend all language barriers, and as the night moved on, I seemed to be sharing deep philosphical conversations with Koreans using only gestures and mono-syllabic grunts.
We also went Norebonging (or more properly, to the Norebong. I don't know if I can put Norebong into a verb or not yet). It's like Japanese karaoke, but you have your own private room and the mic is set to a strange reverb setting which makes anyone who can't sing worth a darn sound like a drowning cat. This was where I was told my singing skills were pretty good, but I think that was just them trying to be polite - I was definitely playing the part of a drowning cat.
This weekend will be Shannon and my first chance to speak regular, non-broken English other than with each other for nearly a week. Our tiny contigent of foreigners has put together a boat trip in a city called Yeosu. It's going to be quite a challenge for any locals we run into - most of them only see a foreign face a few times a year, so coming across 60 or more of us yelling and mulling about may be too much to handle. I'm not kidding when I say they may ask one or two of us for an autograph.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Korean Time
I'd like to start by thanking my few fans out there for their comments. Auntie Lori, and I'm pretty sure the other was Mel, but the aonymous "time-on-my-hands" commenter may have to go unthanked if it's someone else.
Getting to the nitty-gritty - I just had my first "squat-toilet" experience. My, how I wish it could have been held off indefinitely, but if this is as bad as it will get, I'll consider myself lucky. I'm pulling cobwebs out of all the nooks and crannies of my body still, and I'm still rather cramped after squeezing myself into a stall built for a young Korean's stature, not a 6'2" Canadian. I think I'd like to throw both the building architect and the janitor off a bridge right now.
I've titled this entry as "Korean Time" after thinking of all the places I've been where people tell me "We're meeting at 6pm, but in (insert city or country here) time." Usually I find it's someone trying to add some spice to a dull story or conversation, or their just trying to say they plan on being late. But here, things definitely move a little differently than at home.
The music and pop-culture is certainly trapped in the late 80's and early 90's. People are often in a rush to get somewhere, but only so long as they don't have to do anything once they arrive. Meetings scheduled for 8:30 don't actually start till 8:40, but if you're late, you're in trouble. And while I'm only required to work 20 hours a week, I have to stay in school the other 20 hours of the work week. I think they may tell me what I should be doing by mid-March.
Traffic and laws are another mind-boggling thing. At home (Canada), there are laws to govern how traffic works. In Tailand, not at all. Here, they've reached a point of having laws, but no one really bothers you if you don't follow them. Red lights are optional, four way stops can be avoided with a quick blast of the horn, and lane demarkations are more like the starting lanes for a NASCAR race, and become meaningless after the starting flag.
Shannon and I had a rather alarming experience on Sunday. We were working on some English grammar items, when I thought I heard a plane flying rather low outside our apartment. Shannon wasn't so sure, and went to look outside, but was stopped at the door, as our hallway was wildly thick with smoke. "Oh shit, the building's on fire!" We grabbed our wallets, I grabbed a shirt, and bolted out of the building, crouching low, shirts over our faces. Outside, it was a little desolate for a fire - no other people, no emergency vehicles... just the damn gardener fumigating the garden, filling the whole building with pesticides. So, Shannon (in her pajamas) and I went for a walk up the local mountain to pass the day and let the poison dissipate.
I'll end on the note that today has been my first day of class. Korean kids are just like Canadian kids, except they do whatever I ask them to, which may mean they're very well disciplined, or there's something slightly terrifying about a giant, bleached white guy who stands over their shoulder and won't stop talking in tongues. They are well disciplined mind you, and it's the kids who are in charge of cleaning the schools here, which brings me back to my thoughts on how that damn toilet got so dirty...
Getting to the nitty-gritty - I just had my first "squat-toilet" experience. My, how I wish it could have been held off indefinitely, but if this is as bad as it will get, I'll consider myself lucky. I'm pulling cobwebs out of all the nooks and crannies of my body still, and I'm still rather cramped after squeezing myself into a stall built for a young Korean's stature, not a 6'2" Canadian. I think I'd like to throw both the building architect and the janitor off a bridge right now.
I've titled this entry as "Korean Time" after thinking of all the places I've been where people tell me "We're meeting at 6pm, but in (insert city or country here) time." Usually I find it's someone trying to add some spice to a dull story or conversation, or their just trying to say they plan on being late. But here, things definitely move a little differently than at home.
The music and pop-culture is certainly trapped in the late 80's and early 90's. People are often in a rush to get somewhere, but only so long as they don't have to do anything once they arrive. Meetings scheduled for 8:30 don't actually start till 8:40, but if you're late, you're in trouble. And while I'm only required to work 20 hours a week, I have to stay in school the other 20 hours of the work week. I think they may tell me what I should be doing by mid-March.
Traffic and laws are another mind-boggling thing. At home (Canada), there are laws to govern how traffic works. In Tailand, not at all. Here, they've reached a point of having laws, but no one really bothers you if you don't follow them. Red lights are optional, four way stops can be avoided with a quick blast of the horn, and lane demarkations are more like the starting lanes for a NASCAR race, and become meaningless after the starting flag.
Shannon and I had a rather alarming experience on Sunday. We were working on some English grammar items, when I thought I heard a plane flying rather low outside our apartment. Shannon wasn't so sure, and went to look outside, but was stopped at the door, as our hallway was wildly thick with smoke. "Oh shit, the building's on fire!" We grabbed our wallets, I grabbed a shirt, and bolted out of the building, crouching low, shirts over our faces. Outside, it was a little desolate for a fire - no other people, no emergency vehicles... just the damn gardener fumigating the garden, filling the whole building with pesticides. So, Shannon (in her pajamas) and I went for a walk up the local mountain to pass the day and let the poison dissipate.
I'll end on the note that today has been my first day of class. Korean kids are just like Canadian kids, except they do whatever I ask them to, which may mean they're very well disciplined, or there's something slightly terrifying about a giant, bleached white guy who stands over their shoulder and won't stop talking in tongues. They are well disciplined mind you, and it's the kids who are in charge of cleaning the schools here, which brings me back to my thoughts on how that damn toilet got so dirty...
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