Konkluded

I'm fleeing Korea in two days. The neighbours have talked and it seems the authorities here have caught on to my questionable lifestyle. So it's time to vamoose to another country under the identity of "Miguel".

That country is Thailand.

I will spend the next month there communicating with monkeys, elephants and aquatic creatures. Together, we will laugh about fan-death, dishes, and all things Korean. Afterwards, I will head back to Toronto to communicate with corporate sharks and elephants in an attempt to secure employment.

However, I am strongly considering teaching overseas again. Perhaps Japan. You know there's a wealth of stories there. That'll be another blog ("Dan in Japan" maybe?).

So, unfortunately, we must bid adieu to Korea Kapers.

This blog will now be cast into the bowels of the information highway, only to be resurrected by someone looking up information on cheap electric fans, or a computer-friendly, spelling challenged criminal looking up "How to pull a kaper".

In my opinion, the best way to pull a 'kaper' is to live them. And I did, here in Busan, South Korea.

To my readers and fans, thanks for keeping me kompany along the way. May everyday be a kaper for you too.

Dan

Lost Koreans

No, there isn't a Korean version of the TV show "LOST". But there are some lost Koreans. Specifically, lost elderly Koreans in the Philippines.

A number of my Korean friends were talking awhile back about a growing problem in Korea. There isn't much in the way of a pension here. Tradition dictates that the first born son has to take care of their parents retirement. Thus, the demand and need for a son (FYI, my co-worker comes from a family of seven which is highly irregular here. Six girls and one boy. Guess where the boy falls? Yup, he's the last one). However, this burden for the eldest son to take care of his parents, on top of his own family, has proved too difficult financially in many cases.

The solution: Strand the parents in the Philippines.

It has been published in the papers that a number of Korean sons are taking their parents "on a trip" to the Philippines and ditching them there. Obviously, the parents didn't expect it to be a one-way trip.

I wonder how this goes down? They arrive in the Philippines and then the son says, "I have to use the washroom. I'll meet you by the postcards in the souvenir shop". Then - WHOOSH! - he high-tails it back to Korea.

Now the question is, why doesn't the parents just go back to Korea and kick the krap out of their son?!? My friends told me that these parents are so ashamed of being ditched, that they can't go home and face their family and friends. So instead, they say, "Oh well, let's live here" and take up residence in the Philippines. The end.

Well, at least the Philippines will have a number of Korean restaurants and delectable food to choose from.

How do you say "Delicious kimchi!" in Filipino? Anyone?

Kibbles

Below are observations, notes and pieces of prose regarding Korea that I just couldn't make into a full blog story. But there's enough here to warrant a blog now, thus the title 'Kibbles'.

Kibble #1: Lucy Liu
She is considered UGLY by Koreans. Can you believe it? And they don't understand why North Americans find her beautiful. She's ugly to Koreans because... she has small eyes. That's it. Small eyes is considered unattractive here. In fact, the most popular plastic surgery in Korea is getting your eyes "widened" or "opened". I've heard stories about Korean parents giving this surgery to their daughters as a birthday or graduation gift. "Congratulations on graduating Optometry school! Now here's some money to go and get eye-opening surgery. We're proud of you honey!". How sad. Sad about the surgery. Sad that they can't see the beauty of Lucy Liu. Perhaps it's THOSE people who need the eye-opening surgery. Lucy Liu...ugly...c'mon.

Kibble #2: Big Eyes, Small Head
Following up on Kibble #1, Korean men look for women who have big eyes, but NOT a big head. The benchmark is this: If a guy likes a girl, her head has to be smaller than his. If not, he won't be dating her. I was at a bar with my friend, Alyssa, and some other friends when a brave, young, drunken Korean came over and exclaimed to Alyssa, "You have BIG eyes and a SMALL head!". We all laughed and Alyssa, between giggles, said, "I don't know how to take that." I told her, "Take it as a compliment. He basically just called you sexy!" (Side note: A girl can't be taller than the guy either).

Kibble #3: Koke
They sell Coca-Cola in BOTTLES here! Glass bottles. Everyone knows that coke tastes better from a bottle. And Coke is only 60 cents a bottle! It's a dollar at restaurants. Bottoms up!

Kibble #4: Kream
When you order coffee in Korea, the hardest part is getting cream. Sugar, no problem. But with cream, you usually only get one thimble-container of it. It's half the size of one back home. When you pour it into the coffee, it quickly disappears and your coffee remains completely black. Now comes the fun part. You ask for more cream and the look you get ranges from puzzlement to sheer horror. The best case of this was when my friend Steve and I were at a restaurant and he ordered a coffee. Steve asked for more cream and the waitress was aghast and exclaimed "More cream?!? MORE CREAM?!?" and then scuttled off, scoffing and mumbling a bunch of Korean words while Steve closed his eyes, shook his head and solemnly said, "Never again...". There's two theories for this: One is, cream (and all dairy products) are expensive, so we're bleeding the restaurant of its revenue by asking for more cream. Koreans are hyper-health & weight conscious, so the other theory is that having more cream, beyond the 'thimble' we're given, is considered unhealthy. Point of irony: They eat Ramen noodles all the time here and those pouches of MSG seasoning far outweigh the repercussions of additional cream.

Kibble #5: Klassroom
Me: This is a picture of a...
Students: Spoon!
Me: Correct! Now this is a picture of a...
Students: "Fuck!"
Me: That's correct! (You can't fault them for being unable to pronounce 'R')

Kibble #6: MkDonald's
McDonald's restaurants are all run by adults. Not teenagers like back home. So the food is always hot, fresh and super-delicious. I'm ruined for McDonald's back home. Plus, they have Green Tea McFlurry's and Shakes! Also, they recycle all their cups here. At each garbage station is a reservoir where you dump the ice, then place your cup into a suspended cup-holder. Also, they charge you extra if you decide to get "take-out". So it's Green thinking here. The McFlurry's, the shakes... and the environment.

Kibble #7: Umbrellas
When it rains, EVERY single Korean has an umbrella. Even if it's barely just a drizzle. It's not like back home where some people have an umbrella and some go without. Everyone is armed with one. You can see the odd Korean caught in the rain without one. They're the ones cowering under a store-front awning or lobby, waiting for the rain to stop...even if the rain is barely coming down. The kind that doesn't even get your hair wet. Doesn't matter. To them, no umbrella means no go. I'm told that Koreans think that rain is very dirty. I wonder what they think of all those American movies showing a couple passionately kissing in the rain sans umbrellas? A cool thing though is that stores and restaurants will have a bucket/bin at the front where you place your wet umbrella so you don't carry it around, dripping on the floor. Better still, many places have umbrella bag dispensers. You walk in, sheath the umbrella in a tubular plastic bag and carry it around. This is one of those "Why doesn't Canada have this?"

Kibble #8: Garbage
One of the hardest things for me was figuring out the garbage situation in Korea. There are no garbage/recycling bins anywhere except in the subway stations or inside a corner store. At the beginning, I was carrying my wrappers and cans around in my pockets and backpack until I got to a subway station. Where do they put the garbage?!? I later learned how much of a take-out culture North America really is. Starbucks coffee, drinks, etc. are consumed on site by Koreans. They don't walk around eating and drinking like we do. At a 7-11, a Korean will buy a Coke and drink it there, then place it in the recycling bin. Given that there's almost no garbage cans anywhere, you'd think the litter here would be atrocious. It's actually not that bad. Imagine if you took away all of Toronto's garbage/recycling bins. The city would be condemned within 24 hours. Not Busan (which is a bigger city). As for the home, I learned that you have to buy garbage bags at a corner store, which they keep behind the counter. And they're ridiculously expensive. Buying a box of large bags at a big store like we do is impossible. They sell them individually from 10 litre bags (50 cents) to 100 litre bags ($5 bucks per bag!). For recycling, you're allowed to place cans, etc. into any bag and place it at the bottom of your building. This restrictive method really keeps you in control and makes you re-think your garbage waste, especially since it's so expensive. I'm told that there used to be garbage cans on corners here but the problem was that in the summer, where it's ridiculously super-super-humid, the smell in the city was unbearable. So they got rid of them.

Kibble #9: Toilet Paper
Toilet paper goes beyond the washroom in Korea. Most restaurants and food stands use them as napkins. Whenever you go to a restaurant, you'll find rolls suspended from the walls. You just unravel what you need and wipe your mouth. You get used to seeing toilet paper rolls hanging everywhere.

Kibble #10: Before Ally MkBeal, there was Korea
The unisexual washroom was made famous by the TV show Ally McBeal, where men and women used the same washroom. Well, Korea's been doing this for years. Half the places I go to have the common, shared washroom. You walk in and the urinals will be along a wall while there's two toilet stalls: One labeled men, the other labeled women. So while using the urinal it's not uncommon to see a woman walk out of the stall and wash her hands (sometimes) while she has a full view of your back, pressed up against the urinal. One time I was in a bar washroom, up against a urinal, when a group of giggling girls came in. They recognized that I was a foreigner by the back of my head and the nape of my neck and asked "Hey, where are you from?". Over my shoulder I said, "I'm from Canada. Nice to meet you." "Oh wow... (giggle, giggle, giggle)". I was too preoccupied to offer a handshake.

Kibble #11: Kommodes
While on the washroom theme, finding all the necessary materials to complete the experience is a problem. EVERY washroom I go into has something missing, whether it's the toilet paper, towels or soap. NEVER will you have all three at once. Never. For the most part, it's the towels (or dryer) missing. Foreigners are used to doing the "hands-in-the-air-dog-shake" or the "front of your pants" wipe maneuver. The worst ones will have a towel. One towel. One cloth towel. One very damp cloth towel that all the patrons used that day. Foreigners avoid touching this sodden towel and perform one of the two drying methods mentioned above. As for soap, if they have it, it's usually just one bar of soap. Rare is it to find liquid soap. Again, the bar of soap is shared by all. Korea is such a communal place, isn't it? And when the toilet paper is missing, I find that ironic as I know if I step outside the washroom there's a bazillion rolls hanging from the walls called 'napkins' (see Kibble #10 above).

That's all the kibbles for now! In the end, it made for one long blog.

Koats

In Korea it's Winter here too. That means coats. Now it's not as cold as Canada, but it's cold enough to warrant outer wear. However, to Koreans that means once the coats are on, they never come off.

Ever.

Coats never leave the backs of Koreans. They are permanently hung on the shoulders of the natives here, no matter what age. At my school, the teachers never take off their coats. They teach in their parkas, overcoats or whatever. It limits their flexibility for moving the marker on the board, but they're sure to stay warm.

The kids too.

The students never take their coats off. The heater will be going in class and I'll always hear one child cry out in broken English "Teacher...hot". No, don't cue the Van Halen "Hot for Teacher" music. Rather, the student is trying to tell me that they're too hot. "Well take off your damn jacket!" I wanna say. I don't. I say a less cursive phrase. Yet after telling them to take off their jacket, they still won't.

"Teacher... air-con!"

This is another child's plea. It's Korean for "Please turn on the air conditioning teacher". I won't. It's WINTER!!! "Awww...." comes a collective groan from the students. Suck it up kids. It's Winter and the heater stays on.

It gets better.

When I leave the classroom, I'll come back to find a window open. "Who opened the window?!?" No answer. Those of you who have been following my blog will remember that I have this same problem in the Summer when I turn on the "Air-Con", leave the classroom, and come back to find the window opened by the Family Circus "Not Me" spectre. (See "Fan-Death" posting).

Then there's the movie theatre.

A friend and I went to the movies. Once inside, we removed our coats. We were the only ones. Every other patron kept theirs on while the heat was cranked up. My friend and I were boiling in our seats while everyone else, with coats on, seemed content. This goes for buses and the subway too. The heat is cranked up and I'm forced to strip off the Winter garb, while everyone else is less provocative, keeping their coats on.

Restaurants too.

The restaurants here are poorly equipped with heating so I understand the non-removal of coats. At every restaurant, there's countless portable heaters randomly placed about to heat the legs of the famished. Navigating the electrical cords strewn about in restaurants is something. There's so many that I can have a game of double-dutch with the cords in between courses.

Or start a limbo competition.

I'm beginning to wonder if the coats are worn to bed too. Probably. In any case, it looks like the coats are staying on everyone until Spring when the good weather emerges.

Fortunately, in Korea, that means the end of February.

Koffee

I have one class that's full of rambuncious youths. A group of 12 students aged 10-12 who just won't settle down. Ever. It's the kind of class where I wish I was equipped with a taser to subdue students who hop out of their chair and yell constantly. I have no such device. However, the director has taken to arming them against me with a far worse weapon.

Coffee.

I was in my class when the bell rang, thus beginning my dread for these particular students. They filed in, one after the other, carrying a dixie cup full of coffee. It was the coffee that you get from our machine that says "Teachers only!!!" (yup, with three exclamation marks). So I thought the students decided to help themselves to my liquid teaching aid. I asked sternly, "Hey, did you guys take the coffee from the teacher's machine?". "No teacher," they said, "Ojan Nim gave it to us!"

That's the directors name.

I stuck my head out of the classroom and saw my director dispensing coffee and happily giving it to the remaining students of my class who eagerly awaited their hyper juice. What can I do? The boss himself is giving the coffee. It's bad enough that 10-12 year olds are drinking coffee. But these particular students are already wired and out of control. Needless to say, my class was a zoo after they reached the bottom of their cups. Thank you kindly Juan Valdez. I'll kick you and your ass in the ass for demonically possessing my students.

What's worse: It happened again.

The week after this farce of a class, it was their time again. The students filed in carrying their dixie cups full of brown merriment. Deja vu. I asked again, already knowing the answer, where they got it. "Ojan Nim!!" they screeched gleefully. Their new hero. I stuck my head out of the class and my director-turned-Korean-Candy Man was once again supplying the hyper students with an arsenal of Colombia's finest to bring me down. Out of all the classes I have, he's giving the anti-Ritalin to my most active students. What plot is this? Twice in two weeks?!? When will it stop? I'm helpless.

Where's my taser?

Kookies in China

I just got back from spending 5 days in Beijing, China.

It was an organized group trip with around 300 people. They were all English teachers like myself, mostly Canadian. From Busan, it was only a two hour flight. Our hotel in Beijing was a super-grand, massive, 5-star ordeal. It had 5 restaurants, two pool halls, indoor tennis courts, a bowling alley with several lanes, etc., etc.

The hard part about this trip... I was sick.

During the entire trip (and even still) I suffered from a very sore throat accompanied by a crazy hacking cough. As well, I've lost my hearing. I tried to enjoy myself as best I could, but at night I would have amazing coughing fits. I guzzled copious amounts of water and trudged onwards.

Beijing itself was busy. Very busy.

It's population is 16 million people. Toronto is just a quaint village in the grand scheme of things. The roads in Beijing were not only littered with cars, but with many, many, many bicycles too. They had their own wide lane on every road. Every bicycle looked like a grey, rusted 1977 Raleigh. How the locals can tell their bike from others when they are locked up together amongst hundreds of other exact-looking bikes is an amazing feat.

Then there's the sites.

I saw Tiananmen square, the Forbidden City, Summer Palace and the Temple of Heaven. But the highlight was the Great Wall of China.

The Great Wall consists mainly of stairs. Stairs, stairs, stairs. With just enough room for people to go up on the right side, and come down on the left side. There were four stations, each looking like a miniature castle with windows and turrets. The fourth station was at the very top. I would climb a long set of stairs wheezing because of my illness. Then, after reaching the station, I would go into an unstoppable coughing fit where everyone would look at me, thinking I would die. I thought I was going to die too. I would chug water and eventually the coughing would subside. Afterwards, I could climb the next long set of stairs.

But at the third station... it happened. I tossed my cookies off the Great Wall of China.

I couldn't help it. Being so high up, the air was thin. Shallow breaths and an uncontrollable coughing fit led me to desecrate one of the seven wonders of the world. I clutched the stone sides of a turret opening and heaved my breakfast from hundreds of feet up.

Afterwards, I felt much better.

I made it to the top successfully, still coughing all the way. I also purchased a shirt that said "I climbed the Great Wall of China". I want to take a marker, cross out "climbed" and write "puked off".

I think that would be more fitting.

Homekoming

My flight to Canada is finally booked after an interesting ordeal. Last Thursday, while I was getting my 6th dixie thimble cup of coffee, my school manager asked me, "So, have you booked your plane ticket yet?"

*PHHHHffffttttttttttt* (me doing a Jack Tripper spit-take)

With coffee drenched lips, I sputtered, "W-what??"

"You know, your plane ticket to Kanada?" she said (She accents the first letter, thus the capital 'K').

"I thought you guys were taking care of it?!?"

She stared back at me blankly. No sound. This is so not good I thought.

"Well, I guess I can look online..." I said just as the school bell went off, thus abruptly ending the conversation. I taught my remaining classes for the day, though I was preoccupied with my stunted exodus from Korea.

Fortunately, my friend & co-worker knew somebody who works at a travel agency. I asked her... begged her...to use this resource. What a pal she was. The very next day she had it sorted. Her friend found a round-trip ticket for 1.9 million won ($2,130 Cdn). The reason for the high cost was because: a) the short notice; and b) many Korean students are returning to Kanada to study.

No problem. The school's paying for it.

But alas, when I presented this to my manager, she nearly did a spit-take. "W-what?? That's too much!!"

I gave her the reasons and then she asked me if I could go later in the week such as Sept. 3rd or 4th instead of the 1st and still come back on the 15th, thus cutting my vacation time shorter. The rationale was that it's cheaper to fly on weekdays. I tactfully and gracefully explained the need for the full two weeks and wanting to go by the 1st.

Somehow it worked.

Yesterday, I was presented with my plane booking. *PHEW* was the big sigh of relief. I am now leaving the morning of Aug. 30th. It's Busan-to-Tokyo-to-Detroit-to-Toronto. Through the magic of time travel, I will arrive in Toronto on the same day: Aug. 30th at 7pm.

I go back to Korea on Sept. 15th.

So after all this turmoil, I got my plane ticket and an extra couple of days than originally planned. Nice. But for my fellow teachers, they must now cover 12 days instead of 10 thanks to my school's logistical prowess. Sorry guys.

Well Kanada, here I come!