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god i hate you, pittsburgh

I'm allowed to say it because I was born there. Seriously, for one year you can't stay under that rock with the rest of what's shitty about you?

So, you may ask, where do you plan on living next in the U.S. if you hate your hometown so much? (And hate is too strong a word. I am engaging in hyperbole.)

New Orleans, baby.

I've always been drawn to that city, ever since high school. Maybe even more so now. I see it as a place of rebirth, of attempting to overcome tragedy, home to the blues and jazz and southern manners. And yes, it is dangerous but don't we all need to step out of our comfort zone and live a little? I've learned that this past year.

I read Clever Nettle's blog and she posted some enchanting photos of her trip to the city. So that's where I'm heading once I get back America. Take a look at her work. The girl can take some amazing photos!

First morning in Korea

Our first morning here. As we sit in our round bed, eating breakfast and watching television, I am trying to write and remember my first sights, sounds, smells, and feelings of Korea.
As we made our descent into Gimhae International airport, we could see Busan. I stared out the window, mouth gaping, astonished at the magnitude, lights everywhere. I could not believe the height of buildings, the amount of lights. The feelings at that moment were overwhelming. I continuously elbowed steve and pointed, unable to create words or sentences, partly due to my fatigue and mostly due to my disbelief. This being my first trip out of the country, the experience was overwhelming, fascinating, and wonderful.
After landing, we made our way to customs. Stopping off at a payphone first to try and call home. Using the phone was an absolutely impossible task. All writing was in Korean. After several failed attempts by both of us, we went into the customs line and easily made our way through and received our first passport stamp.
At the baggage claim, surrounded by Korean people and only a handful of foreigners, a dog barking loudly as it was being inspected behind us. Frantically scanning the luggage, surroundings, people. Frustrated by not being able to use a phone to call home. At the money exchange, sliding doors open and I hear a man call my name from the lobby. Steve and I go out to meet the president of our recruiting company. He greets us enthusiastically, grabs a piece of luggage and escorts us quickly through the parking lot. The air is cold and I can see my breath. It feels good to walk and breathe fresh outdoor air. We come to his white truck and put all of our luggage in the back. Steve and I sit in the back as the president drives us to our motel for the evening (and the next 2-3 weeks). He kindly offers his cell phone for us to use and call our loved ones. I call my mom and gram quickly. I want to talk to them longer, but do not want to be rude and want to speak with them privately. As we drive out of Busan and into Gimhae, I watch tall buildings pass by. We go through a very large tunnel. "The president" says there are many tunnels due to the mountainous terrain. He talks to us about Las Vegas, burger king, beer, and Korea. The ride goes by in a blur. We arrive in Jinyeong area (our town) of Gimhae. There are different parts of town. Some parts look old and run down. Some parts are bright, loud, and overwhelming. Everything is in Korean. Korean writing goes by in a blur. We pull behind a brand new white kia and our supervisor gets out and we follow her now to the motel. We arrive at our motel. We are greeted by our supervisor, her son, and the current foreign teachers. They all greet us and help us with our luggage. We walk inside and go to a green sliding window. Our supervisor speaks to the motel attendant in Korean. We walk to our room. One door opens into a stoop area (for shoes), bathroom to the left and bedroom straight ahead. The president takes off his shoes at the stoop and as I step one foot inside our bedroom he commands me to "take shoes off". Some things will just take some getting used to I suppose. He explains heat, air conditioning, and water. The foreign teachers hand us two bags of breakfast food. Our supervisor says, "I am your boss" (accompanied by laughing) and informs us that she will pick us up at 11:30 to go to the school for a short orientation. Everyone leaves quickly and we stand in our "home" baffled and exhausted. We survey the surroundings. Green bathroom with no curtain on the shower, drain in the floor, bathing towels the size of american hand towels. The bed is round with a royal looking golden comforter and Korean characters on the pillows. The floor is vey warm, as this is the way the building is heated (water in the floor). We dump the breakfast treats onto the desk and investigate them closely. Cereal, milk, granola bars, yogurt, chocolate bread, clementines, caramel machiato, and orange juice. We lay on the bed and turn on the television. Korean channels with game shows, the news, sitcoms, commercials. A commercial for Cass beer comes on, a laundry detergent commercial. The familiarity of american television, but different due to difference in humor, emotion, and of course language. We manage to find Fox and "How I met your mother" and "America's funniest home videos" are on. We decide to go to sleep. I cannot believe we are in Korea. Becoming accustomed to the sounds in the motel. Sleep comes easily. We awake at 6:00am after 6 hours of sleep. I feel refreshed, excited, and ready to begin the day, our life in Korea.

—

teaching english in korea.
blogging here: www.teachingintherok.blogspot.com

Lhasa

By day they are my best good friends.

But at night,

I had to push past the tall kids so I could get a better look.

Their dreamy songs entranced us all.

And now you can enjoy them too.

They’ve just put together their first album, and it’s kind of amazing.

You can buy it here, and buy it you should.

The Ruby special?

"Throughout"

RECENT! Take a picture, it’ll last longer

It’s not all that long ago that a popular stereotype of East Asians was their love of taking photographs.

In 80s films it was quite common to have them depicted as trigger-happy photographers. Typically, a camera would either be hung around the photographer’s neck or firmly attached to the eye as they rapidly took pictures. As action in the film unfolded, they were pictured never far behind – manically capturing images of fallen victims left lying in the protagonist’s wake.

I realise now that in Korea this stereotype is not far from the truth.

When I lived in Busan and then Ulsan (Korea’s second and fourth largest cities) I became the subject of several ‘memory photographs’. This is where the locals stand and stare and in some instances point as they seemingly attempt to burn the image of one’s face into their brain. Neither Busan nor Ulsan could be described as rural, yet being in a public place meant that eyes would constantly be on me. Generally, children were more obvious when doing this and if they happened to be caught out were less likely to be deterred and simply continued staring. On two occasions I was actually doing something as normal as standing at a bus stop lost in my own thoughts when slowly, through whatever primeval sense it was, I would become aware that someone was staring at me. In both cases it was a

child facing me wide eyed and pointing at my face whilst saying; ‘Waygook! Waygook!’ (foreigner, foreigner!)

Thankfully, on each occasion it was a different child; otherwise I would have been seriously concerned that I was being stalked by a malevolent midget.

I must confess that the first few times people looked at me it gave me the elevated feeling of celebrity status. But as the incidents increased this sensation quickly faded away to be replaced by a feeling of discomfort. But all that is now in the past. Since moving to Seoul, an international city, that particular intensity of undesired scrutiny is rarely encountered.

Today, cameras are commonplace. Technology has merged the camera with the phone (as well as a mini-computer). So it is no longer necessary for consumers to buy a camera and a phone separately should they wish to just take fun snaps. This gives everyone the ability to live their life through a lens or, in Korea’s case, see their life through one.

Alongside this surge in people taking photographs the stereotype of the snap-happy East Asian as depicted in the majority of 1980s films has grown less. Here in Korea the focus is now more often on the photographer. What you will often hear in public places is the sound of a camera shutter emanating from a mobile phone signalling a captured image. And this could well be a vain young woman with phone held at arm’s length photographing herself. Very rarely does this narcissism stop with a single self-portrait. Shot after shot is taken – all consisting of the same pose. The lone photographer’s self-love is apparently insatiable.

Stepping in front of the lens and being photographed is one way for Koreans to express themselves. Disappointingly, expression rarely summons up individuality. As westerners we are told to ‘smile’ before the shutter clicks. Here, as the countdown begins ‘Hana, dul, set’ (One, two, three), the subject is alerted to take the ‘Kimchi Pose’. This consists of two fingers stuck up at the camera imitating the ‘V for Victory’ sign.

It is a well-established gesture which communicates to the viewer that the person being photographed is happy.

What’s more, the Kimchi pose is actually from a long list of many instilled into Koreans from an early age as proper behaviour or etiquette for the person whose picture is being taken. Other signs include; Bang! Heart Shape, Nyan Nyan (a ‘cat’ pose) and many more. You can find examples and pictures at Asian Poses.

As yet it is unlikely for a foreigner to be the brunt of a cascade of clicking cameras, as this is still deemed as intrusive. Instead it seems the staring and the memory photographs will long remain paramount.

You know Korea is your home when… – a compilation / quiz

As of this posting, I’ve written a total of 10 parts answering the ‘You know Korea is your home when…’ question. While you’re welcome to check out part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8,, part 9, and part 10, I’ve added a point system in place to help you determine how ‘home’ Korea has become. Grab a pen and paper and play along!

Without further ado:

Give yourself 5 points for every statement that fits.