Learning How to Swim

My first two times I came to Korea, I lived in Seoul, but now, for my third time in here, I am in Ulsan. The difference between these two cities is startling.

I knew that Ulsan would be different. With Seoul, it is a 24 hour city, something to do every hour of the day. In Seoul, it is easy to get around without knowing Korean. Almost every young resident speaks at least a little of it. Every older residents of Seoul have some knowledge of English. Ulsan is not the sprawling metropolis that Seoul is.

Here in Ulsan, there is no English. Thankfully, while not fluent in Korean, I am competent in it. Yet even this competency did not quite prepare me for Ulsan. I forgot how much I relied on English in Seoul; if I was uncomfortable speaking Korea, I could just speak English, and I would be mostly understood. Now, all of a sudden, I lack the crutch that I had in Seoul.

I find myself now thrown in to the deep end of a pool with no idea how to swim. I try to learn things about the University of Ulsan, but the staff is far from cooperative, something that I am not used to when it comes to Korean culture. Even when asking in Korean, staff members who are to help the foreign students brush me off. There is a complete lack of communication at the university. While I am used to a relative lack of communication in Korean culture, I am not used to it to this degree.

So now comes my true challenge—being by myself, in a foreign land, learning how to swim. Let’s hope that I learn how to stroke through the water quickly.

School: What to Expect

The general assumption of an American student when they go abroad is that their college classes will be easy. These students will be in for a rude awakening when it comes to classes in Korea.

For Koreans, studying is a way of life, because for them, taking tests is how one advances in society and determines their future success. Because of this test-taking society, classes are far more difficult than the average American is used to.

Most Korean universities base their class grades off of two tests—the mid-term and the final—, a class project, and attendance. These four things are what your entire semester is based on.

Tests will be difficult and require more intensive study than Americans are used to. As a studious student before I came to Korea, I was shocked by the amount of studying I was expected to put in to succeed in my classes. For mid-term and finals, don’t expect much, if any, sleep. Those precious hours need to be spent studying, memorizing every nook ad cranny of the notes and book.

Korean universities, or at least Korea University the university I attended, were very strict when it came to attendance. A student was allowed 5 absences before they were kicked out of class. Some teachers are even stricter. One of my teachers only allowed his students 2 absences. I was absent from his class one time because I was too sick to come to school. After this absence, he warned me that I only hada one absence left. My second absence was when I broke my foot and was literally unable to walk to class. He gave me a second warning never to miss his class again or I would fail. Both of these incidences, I told my professor that I would be unable to come to class, but as one can see, he was very strict.

But it’s not as bad as it seems.

Group projects are something that most Americans loathe as most of the time only one student does the work for the entire group. Americans will be happily surprised to learn that Koreans work well in groups and no one is left with all of the work.

Most grades are relative. This means, even if you make a 65 on a test, if the highest grade in the classes was, say, 67, congratulations, you just made an A.

The most important thing to do in order to succeed in Korean classes though is to become friends with your professors. Not only is a great contact to have a professor’s favor of you, but also, this liking leads to a better grade. Remember when I said the grades are relative. If your relationship with your professor is a good one, expect an A.

To form a relationship with your professor, visit with after class, go to their office and talk with them during office, buy them little treats, like snack from the bakery a small thing of tea or coffee. If a professor offers you side work, take it, it will work in your favor.

While classes might at first seem intimidating in Korea, in the end, they are great fun and a wonderful learning experience. Education standards are higher in Korea than they are in America; so expect to come back to America being bored in your classes. You might miss the thrill and valuable life experience of being challenged.

 

Drinking Customs

In connection with my last post, drinking in Korea is an integral part of its culture. Drinking though, comes with its own set of customs, and knowing these customs is crucial.

           

First comes accepting a drink. You NEVER pour your own drink. It’s rude and it comes with the saying, “If you pour your own drink, you will be alone for 20 years.” Your senior will generally pour your drink if you are drinking with work colleagues, or by your business partner in a business meeting. When accepting the drink, you want to hold your glass with your right hand, and then, you put your left hand under the glass, put your left hand under your elbow, or accept with both hands. You put your left hand under the glass if the person is very important, i.e. your boss, and you put it under your elbow if it is someone closer, i.e. a friend, and with both hands for accepting a shot of soju. NEVER ACCEPT A DRINK WITH ONE HAND, even when you are with friends.

Accepting a shot of soju with both hands

This goes the same for pouring the drink. Once your drink has been poured, you are expected to the pour a drink for the person who poured yours. Always do this with both hands with the right hand pouring and the left hand under the bottle.

Notice how both of his hands are on the bottle. 

When it comes to actual drinking, there are even more rules, but these rules usually apply to when it is a more formal setting of drinking such as drinking with colleagues or business partners. When drinking from your glass, turn your head to the side, facing away from the senior member of the group (this person is usually your boss, a senior member who is hard to approach, or someone who is older than you by ten years, not a friend or close colleague), cover the drink with your hand, and then drink. This is because it is rude for the senior of the group seeing you drink alcohol.

Now these rules seem so strict, but try to follow them. If you don’t get it precisely, do not worry. Koreans will be delighted with the fact that you are trying and forgive the mistakes.

The Importance of Drinking

Drinking is to Korea as Texas is to steak. It is so essential in fact, that knowing how to hold one’s liquor is essential in advancing in the business world. For someone like me, who never drank before coming to Korea, it was a bit of a challenge to go out every weekend and be expected to get drunker than an alcoholic at a music festival. But I soon came to realize the importance of drinking in Korea and the incredibly important customs that come along with it.

Drinking, in Korean culture, is a way to form friendships and business alliances. Korea is a Confucian society, and this leads to it having a very rigid social structure as well as customs. This leads to a high level of conformity and almost complete lack of individuality. Drinking, for Koreans, became a way to escape the social norms. In Korea, when you drink, you are becoming yourself. In the West, there is forgiveness for things said while drunk, because we believe that you are a different person while drunk. This just the opposite in Korea. There, you are held highly accountable for your drinking actions, as those are the actions of your true self.

If you’re someone who does not drink, I have bad news for you, you’re going to have to learn. You’ll soon find though, that drinking with Koreans is an experience in and of itself. Quite honestly, it’s a blast. As I mentioned earlier, I never drank before coming to Korea, and since coming back, I no longer drink in America—in most part because drinking in America is no fun compared to Korea. If you’re still uncomfortable with drinking, then here’s a trick of the trade: if you’re drinking 소주 (soju, or Korean vodka), then simply and DISCREETLY poor your soju into a glass of water (or throw it behind you if there's no water). Just don’t get caught or you will insult everyone, especially the one who is pouring your drinks and paying the bill.

In my next post, I will go more into the customs of drinking. Until then 원쎳 (one shot)!

Dealing with the Reverse

Reverse culture shock doesn’t just hit you when it comes to classes, with how you dress, or how you eat. It hits all aspects of your life, from how you interact with others to simply missing the culture that became your life for an extended period of time.

I lived in Korea for a year and half. It was simply an amazing, fantastic, describable yet indescribable experience. Korea became my life. It became how I talked, how I walked, ate, slept, studied, and interacted. It dominated my way of thinking. It became my second set of lungs, bringing me vital oxygen to sustain my life.

Now, displaced, my second set of lungs is now shrinking. I am suffocating.

I go to bed early, no reason to stay up. I wake up early, there is studying to do. I eat small meals, all low in fat. Why mess up the balance in my body with something fried? Every facet of my life, I find I am comparing it with Korea. It is whirling me into a deep depression that I am struggling to swim my way out of.

On Sunday, I turned 21. Even though my mom had traveled 6 and a half hours to see me, even though my old friends slapped together a party for me, I still cried. I cried as I read messages from Korea. I cried as my Korean and International friends wished me a happy birthday. I heaved as my body ached to be back home in Seoul, surrounded by familiar sights, sounds, tastes, and talks.

I angered myself as I cried. There was no reason. I am home. I need to get used to it. But that is like telling broken toe to stop hurting.

My anger with myself fueled me to change. I cannot live in a rut. The only one who can improve the situation is me. So, I have begun to take steps to help me tackle this mountain of reverse culture shock.

Firstly, one of the things I am suffering from the most is the lack of international exposure. For a year and a half, I was rarely around Americans, and though on one hand it is great to be amongst my people again, it is a struggle because I now cannot interact with the many cultures that I once did. To tackle this hill, I have joined two clubs. The first club is the Conversation Partner Program where I help international exchange students improve their English. The second club is the Foreign Diplomats where I will assist students who are about to go abroad.

After this, finding a job to fill any free time will be of utmost importance. I’m used to being busy every second of the day. Lag time frustrates and depresses me. I will try to find a job that will expose me to international students or at the very least, some other part of Texas other than Lubbock.

I never thought I would have to deal with reverse culture shock, or at least deal with it in the way that I am. So I must take steps to rid myself of it. Small steps, yes, but steps nonetheless. 

Readjustment

When you start calling a place home, it is difficult to forget what it taught you. After living in Korea for a year and a half, Korea became a place that left a deep impression on me and gave me habits that will never leave me. I never thought readjusting to American society would be so difficult.

Crowds I am used to, so trips to the mall or grocery store to pick up small things came with ease. It is things like driving and dressing that cause me the greatest trouble.

Crossing a street still takes 5 seconds of hesitation, making sure no one will run the red light and hit me. Traffic is now doable. I’m no longer constantly on edge for people looking for 5 feet to cut me off. But with every car’s swerve, I hold my breath, waiting for them to rush into my lane. I feel danger.

Dressing, I am finding, has become the hardest to get used to. There was not a day in Korea where I went without make-up. There was not a day where I did not dress my best to attend class or merely walk on the streets. But, amongst this sea of American students, I now stand out. My hair is neatly kept, a fresh layer of make-up is applied to my face, and of course, I am wearing fine clothes. I sit wearing these things amongst ranks of sweatshirt and pajama clad students. I am alone.

I walk through campus, amazed by the amount of space it takes up. Why does it need this much space? Why is it organized like this? Nothing flows. The buildings are harsh and obtuse, haphazardly placed throughout dusty ground with no consideration of how it fits in its surroundings. I cringe.

As I walk past campus food courts, I shudder, nearly pinching my nose shut. I am amazed at how fatty and fried the foods are. There is no consideration for health. The price shocks me even more. I can get a single sandwich for $5 whereas I used to be able to a get a full me with side dishes for $3. My wallet aches.

When classes begin, I find myself sighing with relief; there are quizzes AND homework assignments, not just 2 exams. I look at the students around me who groan about the course load, but I smile. I am a better student?

Korea is still in me. A month should have been enough time to adjust myself back into Western society, yet here I am, still stuck in the East. I am alone. I am singled out. I am special. I know the world. 

The Final Adventure

They that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. For me, this didn’t happen—I just began to say my goodbyes.

Two weeks before my flight home, I began having very vivid dreams of a plane crash. Not one to be paranoid, I chalked the dreams up to stress and didn’t think anything more of them. Nonetheless, while my plane was still at the gate, I said a little prayer to God asking for a safe flight home.

Having been a frequent flyer my entire life, flying is not something scares me. So when the plane experiences turbulence, I merely shake it off, and think nothing of it, often times laughing a little at those who fear a little bump. So, when I become terrified of turbulence, it’s not a little thing.

When my flight reached the halfway point, we began to experience turbulence. I noticed that the turbulence was more severe than normal, and became a little worried, simply because of my haunting nightmares, but I told myself, “Cowboy up,” and continued watching the in-flight entertainment. The turbulence got more severe though, to the point where I was concerned. This concern was heightened when I saw flight attendants not walking, but running to their seats. I can tell you as a frequent flyer that this is not a settling sight.

The turbulence continued to get more severe, and I began to clutch my armrests for dear life. It was then I realized how severe the situation was—a flight attendant took a spot by the emergency exit. I looked to my right, to the Korean pastor sitting by my side. I found comfort in that there was a man of God sitting next to me in what might be my final moments.

As the turbulence continued, I began to pray again, telling God that I was not ready to die; I just wanted to see my family on Christmas. And then—freefall. What felt like 7 seconds was probably in reality only 1 or 2, but it was enough time for me to stop thinking about not wanting to die, and I began saying good-bye.

Yes, there were screams. I’m sure I was screaming, too. When the freefall stopped, I felt that my face was wet with tears. I wasn’t sure when I began to cry. The turbulence continued, and I prayed that we would not have another freefall. Today was Christmas and I just wanted to see my family.

After another 20 or so minutes of turbulence, the plane finally evened out after rerouting itself. I unclamped my hands from the armrest, fingers now cramped, hands now white. Around me, several people got up to use the restroom for they had soiled their pants. I was surprised I hadn’t.

I looked at the people around me, all of us still breathing heavy and wincing at every bump. It was then I noticed that my pinky was throbbing, and I took a look at it. It was now swollen and blue, and I realized that in my fear, I had broken my pinky by clamping down so hard on my armrests.

For the remainder of the flight, I instinctively grabbed my armrest at any bump. I noticed people wincing with every wrong movement of the plane. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that when we landed, I almost kissed the ground.

Now I sit in the San Francisco airport, waiting for my next flight. I’ve never been one who is afraid of flying, but now, I don’t know if I can bring myself to board. 

Packing for Home

They say that packing to go to your destination is the hardest part, but in reality, it’s packing to go home.

Coming to, you only have to worry about what to bring, and what ever is missing can be purchased upon arrival. But, packing to go home, whatever you leave stays behind. Whether that be a sock, a friend, a favorite coffee shop, or boyfriend. If these are not packed, they stay behind forever.

These things last as memories. They last a receipts kept in you wallet, ticket stubs tossed in your purse, pictures on your camera that you never got around to uploading. The strongest thing you have to keep is a memory of brilliant smile.

What I remember here? Who will I remember? Will I remember the feeling of 삼겹살 (samgyeopsal, pork belly) as it burns my tongue, the bitter taste of 소주 (soju, Korean vodka) as I do it in “원셧!” (One shot!), the sight of street vendors selling every knick-knack that you can think of?

As I pack things into my suitcase, I trace my hand across my Korea University shirts. At Texas Tech, I only own one shirt that I bought quickly before a football game, but here, I have over 6 shirts with Korea University proudly displayed on the front along with several sweaters of the same variety. Why have I collected these? Will these things be my memory of students who have given me my most cherished memories?

I can only hope as I pack my remaining souvenirs into my bag, that I will return to Korea one day. I have lived here for so long and have become so comfortable calling it my home. How can I not come back when this place has become all that I love and know?

The Death of Kim Jong-Il

There have been reports for the past 3 years that Kim Jong-Il’s health has been ailing, so it came as no surprise to me when he was pronounced dead this morning.

Like all of my friends in Korea, I had the news on when the TV announced that he was dead. At first I was shocked, but in an instant it was overtaken by unease. What does this mean for the Koreas?

Kim Jong-Il’s successor, Kim Jong-Un, is barely 30, and in a culture that values age over almost everything, it’s hard to see him holding the reins of the country. My fears are like everyone else’s, what will happen now?

In reality, there is little to think and only to watch. With the news from North Korea so tightly guarded, it is hard to believe what is really happening in the country. One can only know what is truly happening until it happens outside of the country.

All that we can do now is pray and hope that nothing ill will come of this event, and even hope that maybe this will lead to these two lands divided becoming one again.  

The Last Day

I didn’t really think about. With projects and finals crushing down on me, I didn’t even have time to think about. Sleepless nights, caffeine overload, a burst eye vessel from too much studying—so many things to make you go numb to what you’re supposed to be feeling.

I raised my head from my desk as my 5 a.m. alarm went off, warning me that I was stupid and fell asleep while studying. Groggily, I rubbed my eyes, and stretched, cramming for the last few precious hours I had before my last final. As I slipped on fresh clothes and packed up my bag, I looked at my table and saw my camera. In an instant, emotion ran to the back of my throat—today was my last day at Korea University.

I began cursing myself, angry that I let myself get so overwhelmed with school that I didn’t let myself enjoy the last few precious moments that I had at this wonderful place. Before running out the door, I quickly snatched my camera; I don’t know why, the day was grey and I would be meeting no one since they were just like me, too absorbed in their books.

Rushing to the bus, I ran through cold air, trying not to think about my final, and least of all, my time coming to a close. When I arrived at the school, I sat in the business lounge, like I had so many times before. Seated in a plush red chair, I looked around at the astounding room. Glass reaching the ceiling three stories high, couches and tables neatly aligned for comfort and efficiency, students leaning over papers, desperately cramming in the final minutes before their test. I breathed deeply. Would this be my last breath here?

When the final ended, I walked out of class, thinking of going straight to my bus stop so that I could go home and get some much needed sleep, but I paused as I took out my gloves. I wanted to stay here, just for a little bit longer. So I shoved my gloves back into my bag and began to walk down Korea University’s famous underground passage. With each step I took, I inhaled deeply and memorized every detail that I could.

Will I remember how my shoes clack on marble floors? Will I remember the smell of books from the libraries that line the hall? Will I remember the intricate patterns on the floor that I have ignored so many times before? Will I forget the frustration every time someone suddenly stops in front of me? As I reached the end of the hall, I looked back at the crowd of students behind me, desperately trying to get into a study lounge. Will this be the last time I see it?

I left the warmth of the underground to the harsh cold outside, but suddenly, it didn’t feel cold. I felt so warm. I looked around me as I watched students run to their final and couples meander down the street. I thought of the times when these people who I barely knew helped me in my times of need, people who barely knew me who would smile and talk to me when they saw I was alone, people who filled the university with the love and warmth that Korea is famous for.

As I walked around every last inch of campus, I remembered all the friends who I had met over the last year and a half. Who would I remember them 10 years from now? Who would remember me? Will I ever forget this place that I have called my home for so long?

I sat down at the bench near the main gate, looking at the gorgeous architecture that Korea University possessed, and began to be filled with bittersweet thoughts. My time here was been a blessing. The people I have met, the places I have been, I do not have the words to describe how wonderful they are. My life here has been nothing short of amazing, and I find myself shocked with how comfortable I am calling this place home. But…

Will I ever come back?

Rain Farewell Concert

I’ll say this right off the bat, I’m not a huge K-pop fan. Actually, I really don’t like it all. But, I have been living in Korea for such a long period of time that I figured I should eventually go to one. The problem was, I didn’t like any K-pop band enough to actually pay for a ticket to go and see them (with the exception of TVXQ, because they defy amazing).

One day, a friend of mine posted on Facebook about a free K-pop concert, and being college student, the word “free” instantly caught my eye. One of Korea’s biggest stars (if not the biggest), Rain (or Bi), was giving one farewell concert before his mandatory military enlistment, where he would be spending the next two years.

It was the perfect opportunity. One, it was free, and two, it was in Seoul, which meant that I didn’t have to pay for an expensive train ticket to get there (remember the whole not wanting to pay thing; that included transportation). So, I grabbed my roommate and we headed down to the concert.

Our first thought upon arrival was dear lord, we forgot how popular this man is. Though we arrived 3 hours early, there was still almost nowhere to stand and see the stage.

We eventually managed to find a spot, though we had a nice crane and tree blocking the middle of the stage. After standing for 3 hours, the concert finally started and the 10,000+ member audience roared with applause.

Rain sang with great passion (though he was having microphone troubles, which made his singing quite hard to hear at times, and displayed his signature (and amazing dance moves.

As the concert came to a close, we noticed that Rain had not done one thing—display his signature abs. He did not disappoint.

After drying off from dancing in the rain, Rain returned to the stage to say his farewell to the audience. He thanked us for our support for the last 10 years, and how wonderful it is that we turned out to say farewell to him. He talked about joining the air force, and that he hoped, when he returns in 2 years, that we will love him just the say as we loved him that night. There was not a dry eye in the audience.

But ending on a sad note has never been Rain’s style, so he left us with one final anthem, the Party Rock Anthem.

(They danced to this for about 10 minutes)

In the end, I was glad that I went. Rain proved to be entertaining and I could finally say that yes, I have been to a K-pop concert.

On an end note, RAAAAAIIIIIIIN!!!!!!!

Stephen Colbert vs Rain - Dance Off by stephencolbert

Injustice Against Foreign Women

This story is a little dated, but the what it tells is still the same today--there is little justice for foreign women who are assaulted here in Korea.

http://rokdrop.com/2006/03/15/sexual-assualts-in-korea/

I have several foreign friends who have been assaulted during my time here in Korea, and the answer from the police is always the same--no help, only condescending responses. Even those who work in the Women Clinics have been prejudiced against my friends, often calling the assaults against them their fault.

Last year, I was attacked in a stairwell by a drunk man. I was lucky enough to have a friend close by who heard my shouts and was able to pull the man off of me. The establishment that we were at called the police to arrest the man, and when they came, they took my friend's name and number as well as mine. Neither of us ever heard back from the police.

Last week, I went dancing in a popular club area here in Seoul. My friend and I danced until the club was closed, and while we waited outside for her friend to come and pick us up, we had men from the club come up to us and proposition us to go to a motel. It got to the point when they were grabbing and groping at me while I was yelling in Korean telling them to stop, let go of me, and stop touching me. When one of them forcefully grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me away with him, I went to my last resort and pushed against him with all my might, and told him in Korean to "@#$% off!" (Cussing in Korean is often a very effective way to make a Korean man go away). I managed to free myself from his grasp and ran away as fast as I could. I ended up running a little over a mile away before feeling sure enough and safe enough to stop. So when all other things fail, run, just run away as fast as you can.

Things like this should serve as a caution to all foreign women living here in Korea. Be careful. There are many Korean men who will invite you to go to a restaurant to drink or Noraebang (Karaoke) with them, and to bluntly honest, their motives are purely sex. So decline these invitations. Be aware of how much you are drinking (as well as what you are drinking because the spiking of drinks is becoming more commonplace in Korea now) as well as your surroundings.

If worst comes to worst, and you are assaulted, the US consulate here in Korea has provided some information on what to do, and where to get help.

http://www.asktheconsul.org/victims_crime_korea.pdf

Weird Things

This past weekend, I went to Chucheon. We had a little surprise on the subway.

After leaving the train, at Seoul Station, one of the largest televisions in the world played something that I can only describe as distinctly asian.

The warm-up exercise is known as "새마을 은동" or "Sae ma eul un dong". It's an old warm-up exercise, and has taken on a bit of cultural significance to Koreans.

Breaking a Bone

Believe it or not, this not the first time I have a broken a bone in Korea. Nor is it the second. It is actually the 3^rd time. How is this possible? Quite honestly, I don’t have an answer to that. This post is about what to do when you break a bone in Korea.

We’ll start with my first experience, from last year when I feel down in the ice and broke my elbow. When I told my friends that my elbow was broken, they at first didn’t believe but soon came to realize that it was indeed broken. At the time, we had a Korean friend with us who doubted that my elbow was broken. He told me, even if it was broken, if I went to the emergency room at night (which it was then), then all the staff would do would be to put some ice on it, maybe a splint, and sending me home with a $300 bill. I didn’t believe him, but none of my friends would escort me to the hospital, so I had to wait until the morning until one of my friends who could translate could help me at the hospital.

I went to Korea University Hospital, which is one of the best hospitals in Korea (and was conviently right next to my dorm). They didn’t take my insurance card and I had to pay cash up front, about $200 (though my insurance would later reimburse me for this). The doctors took an x-ray, determined that yes, my elbow was indeed broken. I was fortunate because that day for elbow specialist was there, and I received excellent treatment when it came to fixing my elbow.

Fast-forward about 5 months, and I am 2 days from going home. I got knocked over by a man and ran my wrist into the counter, successfully breaking it. I refused to acknowledge to my friends that I had indeed broken my wrist and did not get it treated until I returned back to America.

For the most recent incident, I managed to break my ankle. Being the clumsy person I am, I was leaving a friend’s dormitory when I took a wrong step on some uneven cobblestone and came falling to the ground. I heard a nice, loud snap as I fell and instantly knew what had happened. The problem was that it was about 9 o’clock at night, and I remembered the story my Korean friend once told me. But I was in agony and knew that I needed to get to the hospital.

I was lucky enough to have two friends escort me to the hospital, the nearest being Korea University Hospital, whose support I appreciated greatly as we tried to navigate the way to the emergency room with the help of a Korean friend translating on the phone. When we finally arrived to the emergency room, we quickly realized that we wanted to leave. There was not a single doctor present, only interns who didn’t know what they were doing.

After playing with my ankle in many agonizing ways, I was finally sent to get an x-ray, but not before I shelled out $250 for it (my insurance wasn’t taken there). After my x-ray, an intern came out to greet me saying, “I can’t see a serious break, but I’m pretty sure you have a hairline fracture, but I can’t tell. So I’m going to put you in a splint and you need to come back in 5 days and see a real doctor so he can tell you if it’s broken or not.”

Silence hit the 3 of us as soon as those words left his lips. Alas, I was in agony and decided a splint was better than nothing. Before that though, I had to pay an additional $150 for said splint. After paying, I was escorted into the casting room where the same intern sat nervously looking at my foot.

Now, I’m not someone who’s weak to pain. I have a fairly high pain tolerance and can handle a lot more than most, so when I say it hurts, IT HURTS! I was sobbing and screaming in pain yelling “아파요!” (Apayo!, That hurts!), and “하지마!” (Hajima!, Stop it!), as the intern fumbled with my broken ankle. As I sobbed, I heard my friends cry, and I tried not to imagine the sight that the doctor and I were creating. Once finished, the doctor lopsidedly smiled at me and said, “Come back in 5 days,” before quickly leaving the room.

As the doctor left, I struggled to get up from my lying position. My wonderful friends were kind enough to help me sit up and held me as I, white with pain, began to sob, having endured one of the painful moments of my life.

The doctor came back shortly and handed me a prescription for pain medication. We were then directed to the pharmacy where they handed me my medicine. My friends asked for crutches for me, and the pharmacist looked at me, my right leg in a huge splint up to my knee, and frankly said, I didn’t need it.

As soon as my wonderful friends took me home in a cab and delivered me safely to my room, I realized how much I was really going to need those crutches, because even with the splint on, I could not put any weight onto my foot.

This became more of a challenge when I had to attend school, which I could not afford to miss because I had a midterm that Monday and strict attendance policies in my remaining classes.

On Wednesday, I volunteered at the Fire Department, helping them film a training video. Whilst there, the paramedics noticed my splint and pointed out to me what I already knew—the intern had put the splint on wrong. And with great generosity, the paramedics at the Seongbuk-gu fire station put on a new splint for me—for free.

So, if sick or injured, unless it is life threatening, DO NOT go to an emergency in Korea at night. Wait until morning, where the price will be cheaper, and there will be doctors present.

The Frailty of Human Life

Tragedy strikes in many ways. From the death of a goldfish when we are five to the death of a grandparent when we are teenagers, death is a tragedy that follows us wherever we go.

I was sitting in the study lounge at Korea University when a group project member walked in for our meeting. Her face was pale, and she was clearly shaken. She looked at me with moist eyes. I asked her what happened, and she only shook her head.

Moments before, she had witnessed a fellow Korea University student be hit and killed by the on-campus shuttle bus.

In one moment, there was a small girl walking to her next class, and the next there was a girl on an ambulance, struggling for her life.

Death teaches is many things. In this case, safety. The roads in South Korea are notoriously dangerous. The drivers don’t yield to you, you yield to them. At all times, you have to be alert, because not even the sidewalks are safe; motorcycle drivers regularly get on the sidewalk and expect you to move out of their way.

This brings up the importance of always being aware of your surroundings. Unlike at Texas Tech, where we are free to walk around with our iPods in and our eyes glued to our smart phones because we THINK the driver will stop for us, here it is just the opposite, we KNOW the driver will not.

The young girl’s death could have been prevented. When the bus hit her, she had been walking a across the street, playing with her phone. Being a small girl, she was already hard to see, and when she walked behind the bus, which was backing up, it was impossible for the driver to see her.

In instant she was with us, and in an instant, she was taken from us. Life is fragile, and can be gone as quickly as we blink. Think of safety wherever you go. Never assume the driver will stop for you or know you’re there. Yes, the driver is supposed to yield to you, but you should always yield to the driver. They may never see you.

Chuseok

Chuseok is the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving. Everyone leaves to go back to their hometown to visit their family as well as their ancestors’ graves. It is one of the most important holidays in Korea, and this year I was given the chance to participate in it.

I have the good fortune of having a very sweet Korean roommate who had the kindness in her heart to invite my French roommate and I to go to her hometown of Mokpo for the Chuseok holiday. This is a big honor and it was one that I took very seriously.

When you are invited into a Korean’s home, it is customary to bring a present to your host. The type of present varies in different situations, but the general rule of thumb is to get them something useful. The general gift for Chuseok is a type of rice called 송편(songpyeon), but since the trip to Mokpo was long, and we wouldn’t be meeting the parents immediately, I didn’t want to get something that would spoil. Both of my roommate’s parents love golf, so I decided to give both of them golf balls (Texas Tech themed of course!). I decided on giving the father a golf club cover and a pair of pearl earrings to the mother.

Some songpyeon.

In order to get down to Mokpo, we decided to take a bus. Also, to avoid any Chuseok traffic, we left late Thursday night, the day before the Chuseok holiday would begin. Taking the red-eye bus to Mokpo landed us there at about 3 a.m. By the time we got to the home, we were so exhausted we just plopped into bed.

The next day (after a late start of course), was a day to ourselves since my roommate’s parents weren’t home yet. We traveled around Mokpo shopping and do general “girl” things, as well as take in the sites of the beautiful ocean as well as Mokpo’s famous man-made waterfall.

After a day to just us, we found ourselves in bed at a late yet again (Korea television is quite entertaining). This ended up being bad idea.

At 9 a.m., I hear a gentle knock at the door, which is quickly opened. I pry my eyes open to see a middle aged women, my roommates mother, peeking through the door. She smiles at me,

“Good morning! Good morning!” She fully opens the door and looks at my groggy eyes. “Good morning! Hungry? You hungry? Yes?”

Still not sure what was going on, I nod my head, and her hand stretches out towards mine, and pulls me out of bed.

“Good morning! Hungry? Yes?” She says while pulling me into the living room.

My eyes instantly shoot open as I look at the table before me filled with food.

From 불고기 (Bulgogi, marinated beef), to crab, to 떡 (ddeok, rice cake), the table was filled with an incredible assortment of foods. My friends really hadn’t been joking when they said that Chuseok was a glutinous holiday.

“많이 먹어요!” “(manhi meokeoyo!, Please eat a lot!)” She says to me as she sits me down at the table.

Still in morning confusion, I can’t decide where to start with the plethora of food in front of me. My roommate’s mother grabs my plate and begins piling on the food. After the plate is nearly overflowing, she hands it back to me. I notice that she has given me a generous portion of bulgogi (many Koreans know that this is typically a foreigner’s favorite food), and I’m glad she did. I take one bit of the tender beef, and my mouth is in heaven. It was spicy yet sweet, salty and yet juicy, and ever so tender. After the bulgogi, I go for the steamed crab, which never fails to put me in a food coma.

Eventually, the rest of house wakes up, and we all eat the feast prepared for us. After the meal, we all turn my roommate’s mother and say, “잘 먹었습니다!” (“jal meokeott soopnida!” “I ate well!”

The remaining days were genuine food induced comas with one giant meal following the next. It was hard to believe that our time was up. Before we head to the train station, we all sit down and take pictures together.

“Sank you! Sank you! Come again! Have fun!” My roommate’s mother says to us as we headed to the bus station. “안녕히 가세요!” (annyeonghi gaseayo, good-bye)

“안녕히 걔세요!” (annyeonghi gyeseayo, good-bye).

We all wave our good-byes, excited and happy, yet sad that our time is already up.

To Grow a Rock

There is a saying in Asia, “Watch the rock grow.” Knowing this saying is integral to understanding the culture. For many westerners, the saying may be confusing because, after all, a rock does not grow.

Watching a rock grow means learning patience, as well as finding peace. You will learn patience by watching something that will not change, and find peace by learning patience.

There are many frustrations when it comes to moving to another country. Firstly, you are displacing yourself from something that you have known your entire life. Secondly, many of the cultures around the world are different from the one that you are used to. This usually leads to culture shock.

Culture shock comes in many different forms and affects every person differently. As much as I try to say that I am immune to culture shock, I am not. For example, I often times find myself frustrated in certain situations, a common symptom of culture shock.

Korean culture can come as a great shock to many westerners. Everything is done very last minute, and rarely is anything ever set in stone. Plans are made the day before or day of, and deadlines of contracts are almost never met. For instance, as I mentioned earlier in this blog, I was informed 1 week before I came to Korea that I had nowhere to live. In the west, this delay of notification would be unacceptable, but in Korea, it’s the norm, there is nothing wrong with informing someone of something last minute, even if it’s as important as telling someone that they have nowhere to live.

Other frustrations come from the general lack of organization. I had great difficulty registering for classes because everything was full and they weren’t letting any exchange students (who are the last to register) into any full classes like they previously had. I realized that when I got upset over this, that things change—nothing will every stay the same.

I fully realized that when I had to go to the immigration office to apply for my alien registration card. Having been through the process once before, I made sure that I had all the proper forms with me, the exact same forms that I had brought with me the time before. After waiting in line for 2 ½ hours, I approached the desk only for the receptionist to tell me that one of my forms was wrong and that for a D-2 visa (student visa), a Certificate of Admission was no longer the proper form, and I now had to have a Certificate of Enrollment. “Sorry,” she said. “Just come back another time.” This meant that I would have to come back, miss my classes again, and wait in yet another long line. I wanted to cry, but one must learn patience to accept things as they are.

If something doesn’t happen in just the way you want it to, like you don’t get the classes that you want, or you’re frustrated that you have to walk everywhere. Stop. Take a moment. Find a rock and watch it grow.

Know that nothing will go as expected. Be prepared for what will or will not happen. Don’t get frustrated when things don’t go as planned. Learn to be fluid. Like a plant in a stream—bend with the current of the water.

Safety Tips

Having been almost kidnapped once in Thailand, I take safety very seriously. While Korea may be one of the safest countries in the world, there are some precautions that should be taken.

Some drunken Korean men are not the most courteous and can even sometimes be dangerous. For example, one night I was at a restaurant with some friends. At this particular restaurant, the restroom was not inside, but rather one had to go outside of the restaurant to use it. I made the bad decision of going to the restroom by myself. On my way there, a drunk Korean man grabbed me and tried to attack me. At the top of my lungs I shouted “하지마!”, “HAJIMA!” or “STOP!”. My shouting caught the attention of one of my male friends who came out to stop the man. So girls, never go anywhere by yourself, even if it’s just going to the bathroom. This is the same for going home.

If you are a girl and insist on going home by yourself at night (particularly if you are intoxicated), only take the subway, which is one of the safest ways to get home. Last train is at about 12:30 a.m. Monday-Thursday and 11:30 p.m.-12:00 a.m. Friday-Sunday. If you are a girl, try not to take a taxi alone at night, especially if you are intoxicated. A Taxi cab driver assaulting a woman is not a common event, but it does happen with reports coming out about it 2-3 times a year. At night, always take a cab in a group, even if alcohol has not been involved in the evening.

Korea is now becoming more of an international country, with many foreigners now living there. Most Koreans are very accepting or excited for foreign residents, but there are Korean nationalists. Typically, a nationalist is someone who is older, but it is not unheard of for a young person to think that Korea should only be for Koreans. When confronted by one of these purists, keep your calm, and simply walk away from the situation. Don’t let it lead to a confrontation. Most importantly, if they start hitting you, don’t hit back. When and if the incident is reported to the police, the foreigner runs the risk of being deported because they fought with a Korean. Keep your calm if the person insults you by calling you a “F---ing foreigner” or “round eye”; these events happen, just take them in stride.

It is important to use common sense. When a situation feels wrong, get out of it, your instinct is usually right. Don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go to 노래방, ‘Noraebang’ (Karaoke) with men you don’t know, and never go alone anywhere, especially if you are a woman.

Korea is one of the safest countries in the world, so something bad happening is low, but always be prepared. Never take your safety for granted.

The Subway

The Seoul subway is super easy to use, and it is a wonderful form of transportation that can get you just about anywhere in Seoul. The entire map of the subway is in each station both in Korean and in English, so it’s easy to navigate. Once you have paid, there are more detailed maps where the subway cars arrive. These maps will let you know where to transfer and what car is best to get in when transferring.

To get a ticket for the subway, there are ticket machines inside of each station. All machines have an English language option available, so it’s easy to use and get a ticket for where you need to go. Simply click on One-Way Ticket and select the station that you want to go, and then insert your money. If staying long-term in Seoul though, getting a T-Money card is recommended. With a T-Money card, riding the subway is cheaper and way easier because you don’t have to stand in line every time you want to ride the train. A T-Money card can be bought at most 7-11’s and can be bought at several subway stations. A T-Money card dispenser is different from a ticket dispenser. It will usually advertise that it’s a T-Money card dispenser. The cost of a T-Money card is 3000 원 (“won” pronounced ‘wahn’) and it also comes with a coupon pack exclusively for foreigners. You’ll have to recharge your T-Money card every once and a while though. To recharge your card, simply go to one of the ticket dispensing machines and put your card in the big spot that says “T-Money”, click the English language, select card recharge and the amount that you want to put on your T-Money card, and then insert the amount selected. Wait for the machine to prompt you that the card has recharged and you’re ready to go! Another great thing about T-money cards is that they not only can be used in the subway, but that can be used on buses, taxis, and even some convenience stores and department stores as well. It’s a must have for transportation in Seoul.

The cost of one subway ticket is 1000 won (or roughly $1) for the first 30 minutes and 100 won for each additional 10 minutes. A ticket machine is available at each station and will cost 1500 won or more depending on the length of your trip. After leaving the subway, there will be machine where you can return you ticket for a 500 won refund. With a T-Money card, it’s 900 won for the first 30 minutes on the train and 100 won for each additional 10 minutes, and you don’t have to go through the hassle of retuning your ticket every time.

To get around the subway though, you will have to do some transferring. Transferring is fairly simple with Seoul’s grid-like structure. When transferring to a different line, look out for that line’s color on the wall. For example, if you’re transferring to line 6 heading towards Korea University Station, you’ll want to look out for the burnt orange line that runs across the wall. Follow the arrows in the line, and it will take you to the line that you need. But be careful! Most of the time, the cars for a particular line are in the same spot, but sometimes, they are on other ends of the station so to speak. Also, each line has two cars running in opposite directions, so watch out for both of these or you’ll end up going in the opposite direction that you want to go. So, when transferring, look for the last subway stop on each side of the line, and then remember the last station for the direction that you want to go in. This works best when the subway line is separated, but when the subway cars are together, the last station isn’t listed and you have to look at the subway line’s map to know which direction you want to go to. It’s sounds hard, but after two or three times on the subway, it’ll become super easy to navigate.

Here are some things to look out for though in the Seoul subway:

The subway is jam packed during rush hours which are 7:30-9:00 a.m. and 5-6:30 p.m. so try to avoid those hours if possible, just for comfort reasons. Last train is from about 12:00-12:30 a.m. Mon.-Thu. and 11:30-12:00 a.m. Fri.-Sun. varying from station to station. Last train is always crowded but if intoxicated or if you don’t want to spend money on a taxi, try to make last train. First train is 5:30-6:00, so if after a late night, you decide you don’t want to pay for a cab, just wait around the station until the train arrives (a favorite is going to McDonald’s or Burger King for most, but others enjoy going inside the station and sleeping on the benches until the train arrives).

Another subway warning is the older people. The last six seats on each end of each car are reserved specifically for the elderly, so do not sit in these seats. It is also polite that if all those reserved seats are taken to give up your spot for an elder person (as well as a pregnant woman, small children, or someone who is disabled). The elderly can also be quite rough on the subway when it comes to getting a seat on the crowded cars. Old women are known for their deadly elbows: when someone is in their way on the subway, some will elbow you to get you to move out of the way. Since Korean women are quite short and the older women hunch over to boot, the elder women’s elbow are quite literally on par with the groin area for many westerners. I have had quite a good jab or two to the baby-maker to make me keel over and gasp for breath. Old women can also be very violent when it comes to getting on and off the subway. They will have their elbows locked, ready to jab anyone who gets in their way of entering of leaving the subway car, so beware. Older men are not as “violent” as the women, but they are known to take their thumbs and jam it into the spines of the men who get in their way. Thankfully I am a woman so I have never experienced this, but a quite a few of my male friends have.

Another warning is something that you won’t be able to do anything about it. If you’re a westerner (with no Asian looks), you will be stared at wherever you go. This can sometimes get uncomfortable on the subway when Korean purist (i.e. a Korean who thinks Korea should only be for Koreans) gets on. Usually, they’ll just mutter mean things under their breath, or menacingly glare at you. Occasionally though, as I’ve experienced, you’ll get one that wants to turn it into a fight. One night my friends and I were coming home from a movie and an old, drunk, Korean man got on the train. He instantly came up to our tall, American friend and started yelling at him. The old man even went to the point of knocking off our friend’s hat. The best thing to do in this situation is simply to walk away and go to another car. The worst thing to do is to get into a full-on confrontation. If a foreigner gets into a fight with a Korean, no matter who started it, the foreigner runs a high risk of getting deported. Keep that in mind when a Korean tries to fight you.

Other than extremists, you also have to think about people who are just, well, crazy. The other day I was on my way home from school when an old woman got on. Her eyes got really wide, and she started pointing at me. I looked around to see if I was doing anything wrong, like standing in the aisle or blocking her or someone else’s way, but I wasn’t. The woman slowly walked around me, pointing and staring at me the whole time. As she did, it caught the whole train car’s attention and now I have 30+ people staring at me. I take out my earphones to try and hear if she’s saying anything to me, but she’s not. Eventually, everyone realizes that I’m doing nothing wrong and they ignore the woman who is very obviously mentally unstable. The woman continues to stare and point at me for two stops until she gets off, but she makes sure that her eyes and her finger are pointed at me until I finally leave her line of site. Honestly, it was the weirdest experience I’ve ever had on the subway, and though I don’t think that this is something that would be a common occurrence, just be aware that things like that could happen.

Though it can be confusing at first, the subway is great tool to get around Seoul, so utilize it. After a week or two, using the subway will be like second nature, and very little confusion will remain.

A great site to use though, if confusion arises is: http://www.visitkorea.or.kr/ena/TR/TR_EN_5_1_4.jsp

This site lists all of the Seoul Subway stops and the time it takes to get from one station to another. It makes a wonderful tool for getting around, and I found myself using it on a near daily basis.