Loose Feet

My job is tough. I'm starting to realize that as I inch closer to celebrating a year anniversary since I first came to this country to teach English. At my school, my classes are wholly made up of younger, immature students who are either lazy, uninterested or only just beginning their studies in the English language. I'm still somewhat unsure as to how I got assigned to these classes. I know that there are multiple factors at work here -- as I am the only permanent female middle school teacher, I know I am expected to be more of a nurturing caregiver, therefore somehow more willing to do a larger portion of babysitting. When I questioned my boss as to why I was being assigned these classes, she said it was because I had more energy than the other teachers and thus would be able to handle these more wild, energetic students. These are only some of the reasons. I'm struggling though, finding it difficult each day to command some sort of respect from these students. Granted, I can tell that they probably only understand about 30% of what I say and teach to them. Still, half of the time when I ask them questions in English, they respond in Korean, and in almost every class I have to write answers on the board to make sure that they take down correct answers -- more or less so I know that they will have something appropriate written down to show their enthusiastic parents. I'm exhausted these days, and find it a challenge to go to work. My Korean co-teacher, a lovely woman who works so hard with little to no appreciation, is quitting soon. I can feel it. And I'm beginning to feel the same way. A sort of hopeless cloud surrounds my desk and I try to push it off but at the end of the day, when I clock out at 11 pm and walk home, I just feel so useless. Anyone could do this job, and it wouldn't matter. The students would leave exactly as how they entered, no smarter, if not just a little bit stupider.

Today in one of my higher level classes, GR1, my students spent the entire class looking at me blankly. They held no qualms in telling me how boring the class was -- despite the fact that I always give them time to study for their tests at the end of the class, despite the fact that I play games with them and give them chocolate bars if they win, and I too often turn a blind eye to their speaking in Korean and their fucking around in class. Still, beyond all that, they hemmed and hawed and sighed and complained. If it had been any other foreign teacher they would have been in hot water. But instead I gave up. I let them study for the rest of class and used the time to try and figure out new ways to teach the lesson for my next class. But I was really upset at this.

In the last five minutes of this interminable class, I kneeled down to speak with one student, Jinny, who I've had for 2 semesters now. As she looked upset, I asked her what was wrong. She said she was tired because she didn't have her coffee that day. She told me she has at least 1 or 2 coffees a day. She's 14. She goes to bed at 2 and wakes up at 6:30 every day. She's 14 and she gets 4 and a half hours of sleep.

I'm just so frustrated. I'm upset because I don't know how people can let this go on, how people can appreciate this and truly believe that their children, the leaders of the future are living the best possible lifestyle, one that somehow will inevitably lead to some form of success and satisfaction (or perhaps early deaths and mid-life breakdowns). I want to change it so badly, I want to make a difference. But the system is just too big, too engrained within the world here. It's like drowning. I can't give too much of myself anymore. I have to repress my passion to make a change, because it just doesn't matter. And that breaks my heart.

This weekend has been quiet. Relaxingly, peacefully quiet. I needed that. Some time to process who I am and how I'm changing -- and everything that comes wrapped up in all of that. It was nice.

One thing though. On this crisp Sunday afternoon, I joined my friends Habiba, K'san and their respective boys on a trip to the Jogesya Buddhist temple near Insadong for a screening of the documentary film 63 Years On. Put on by the Sharing House of Korea, it was a powerful tribute to the women who were forced into sexual slavery by the Japanese government from the 1930's on into World War II.

There is so much that I should, and need to recount about what I have learned today in becoming part of this community, one with those who are moving together to demand emotional compensation and peace for those who suffered at the hands of the military.

Prior to World War II, it had been found that a large percentage of members of the Japanese military were suffering from various STD's. As the nation prepared to expand and conquer land across the Asian continent, it became clear that the government would have to establish a system that would allow soldiers to engage in healthy and yet still stimulating sexual intercourse. The first 'comfort station' was opened in 1932 in China. It is said that the first women to work at the station were Japanese prostitutes. But Japanese expansionism worked faster than expected, and before long there were comfort stations all across Asia -- from the Philippines to Indonesia to Laos and Cambodia to Korea and Japan -- and there were simply not enough prostitutes to provide for the soldiers. So the government turned to the streets and kidnapped women, often bribing them with the hope for better money to support their families, only to force them into these sexual stations.

The film showed the stories of 5 different women who were victims of this tragedy. One was from Korea -- she had scars all over her body from where Japanese soldiers had tortured her when she had tried to run away. She admitted on camera that she had been pregnant, and the soldiers had tried to beat the baby out of her, blaming her for getting pregnant. In order to prevent further pregnancies, they removed her uterus. Then they seared her breasts and used a cattle iron on her back and bum. She spoke out in both fear and anger. She had been lucky enough to not only survive through that, but as well to meet a good man who married her and made a family with her. Due to the beatings, she was unable to have children, and so she adopted. It was years before she returned to Korea, however.

Another story was from a Dutch woman who had been living in Indonesia with her family. She was taken away by the Japanese military when she was a teenager. She kept going back to the first night she was brought to the comfort station. She was raped not once but at least 3 or 4 times by different soldiers. Such information was not unusual either -- many of the women who were kept at such camps were forced to have sex with as many as twenty to forty men a day.

She shared a shocking story about the doctor who came to their camp. The women were subjected at random moments to visit the doctor, so as to ensure they were STD-free. Her story began by reminding us how much trust we put in doctors -- they are healers, the ones who, in the very least, work to make it better, make the pain go away. Unfortunately, this was not true for her. The doctor examined her with the doors and windows open, inviting the Japanese soldiers to look on. Upon finishing his check-up, he then raped her. There was noone to trust.

The Dutch woman had wanted to be a nun when she was a child, but after being a sexual slave to the Japanese military, she knew she could never follow that dream. She married, but admitted that she could never enjoy sex again -- even with her husband.

There are so many more stories. They said that it is estimated 200,000 women were put into these comfort stations, and many of them did not make it out alive. Those who did were abandoned at the end of the war. Many Korean women were left in countries such as the Philippines, with no knowledge of the language or the culture and no idea where to even begin in rebuilding some semblance of a life for themselves. It was years upon years -- 1991, when the first woman, what they now call 'Grandmothers' -- Grandma Kim Hak Soon, came out and publicly talked about what she and so many others had undergone. It has been a slow and painful process, but other such victims have stood up and created a movement pushing for the Japanese government to apologize. THEY HAVE NOT. In 2007, the prime minister Shinzo Abe denied that these women had been forced into sexual enslavement. The education minister at the time had much of the information about such women erased from textbooks. The U.S and Canada both approved motions urging the Japanese government to make a formal apology. But little to nothing has been done by the Japanese government and so these grandmothers continue fighting, hoping that they will find peace before their passing.

It was pure trickery that seeped out of the WWII Japanese government. The argument behind comfort stations was that men of the military needed to have some form of pleasure in order to quell their rebellious attitudes. The government even provided condoms, labelled as 'Attack 1 condoms', and lubrication. From the outside, it all looked like another ordinary brothel system that would only help to make the Japanese army stronger and happier than all others.

It hurts for me to even write about it. These women suffered through our worst nightmares. I am so fortunate to be so far away from anything like this. There is now a home for these women here in Korea -- a place called the Sharing House. As the grandmothers grow older, it has become harder and harder for them to share their stories. Their message will live on forever though. The people, including myself -- the community who gathered today -- now have their stories engrained within their hearts and these women will never be forgotten.

A volunteer who put together the screening asked that these women not be called 'Comfort Women' anymore -- because nothing that they experienced was comfortable. These women are to be called grandmothers, or survivors. I respect that absolutely.

We live in a modern world, but this nightmare has not passed. Sexual trafficking is still a major problem. As one volunteer quoted, there are some countries where it is believed that 1 in 4 women will be subjected to sexual trafficking. There is so much to be done. Demanding for an apology for the grandmothers is just a step.

Being there today, with the men and women who both cried and raised a fist against the treatment of these women, made me realize how much work there is to be done. We must look back at the past and change the future starting now. There are resources, but we must stop teaching how to use them in a negative light and starting practicing in the positive.

I really want to save the world.

http://www.nanum.org/eng/index.html

Back in Korean classes. Again. Learning the Korean alphabet. Again. Major deja vu, which makes me wonder if something bad is going to happen in just a short amount of time. I feel that lightening can only strike once a year on your heart though, so I'm crossing my fingers I'll be protected through the summer. I'm on a Korean language kick, though, which is exciting as I haven't really been interested in studying or pursuing it at all over the last few months. Suddenly I'm looking through vocabulary and finding extra books to study in at night, listening to podcasts and using whatever I can get off the tip of my tongue that somehow seems right. I'm proud of myself for making an effort again. It's easy the first time, but the second time around is like walking with a broken knee. Just keep shaking until you heal and regrow. (Does that make sense at all?)

In other news, after a whirlwind round of shopping with Jenn - wherein we both decided that we have never been such materialistic spenders since living in this country - she finally gave in, and we are going to the gym, starting next week. It's a big decision for me. I'm not a gym person. But as my mom always told me, it's best to find a friend to go to the gym with. The gym (at least for me) just doesn't seem to be one of those solo places. Particularly in a country where you don't speak their language -- YET. I'm excited to start the process of getting into shape. It's been a long time coming, and I think my body really needs it. It will definitely make me feel a lot better about myself. But it will suck...Oh how it will suck the first week.

That's all for now. Not very interesting, but somehow I still feel FAR too busy and my life seems overwhelmingly filled with things to do. I like it that way. Today, I am satisfied.

What I'm reading right now: "The Omnivore's Dilemma; A Natural History of Four Meals" by Michael Pollan.

Lent to me by a friend. We'll see how it goes.

I do not have the patience this very moment to sit down and write about every adventure I have had since being in Korea, nor do I have the attention-span to delve into my experiences and feelings and reasons why I have pursued life in Korea. So instead, I will make a list of all the things I need to write about over time, a reference point to go by. Slowly but surely (hopefully) I will cover each...thus making a good attempt at understanding everything that I see and having something to look back upon when I decide to rejoin middle-America. Here we go then...

1. Bowling in Korea

2. Cherry Blossom Festival

3. Baseball Games (LG Twins)

4. Ullengdo

5. DMZ Trip 1 vs. DMZ Trip 2 (Cherwon)

6. Lantern Festival, Buddha's Birthday

7. Knowing that you are the only visible white person in a sea of Koreans.

8. Thailand -- Chiang Mai in all of it's greatness

9. Japan - Kanazawa and the party that made my day there.

10. Noraebong

11. Cooking Class with the Seoul Global Center

12. Volunteering at the Low Income Children's Center

13. Tutoring in Korea

14. Shopping in Myeongdong (Remember that day when Mr. Pizza threw free stuff off the rooftops)

15. Barefoot Marathon

16. Birthdays in Korea

17. Baby Shower with Sunny

18. International Women's Day

19. Eating dinners with Habiba

20. Learning Korean (Lynn)

21. Lunches with David

22. Drinking with the staff of Ola.

23. Sports Day Ola 2009

24. Making friends with Koreans : How I became an expert on Asian friendships.

25. The yellow buses of Ola lining up in front of the school.

26. English teachers and the problems of containment.

That's it for now, though I know there's more.

I have finally arrived and have begun to settle into my life in Asia. I got in safely after a very hectic last night in Montreal around 6:00 pm Seoul time - in other terms, 5 a.m my time. Needless to say, my brain was barely working, but there were friends around to help me get into my apartment and to even take me out for a beer at a local bar just down the street from my house, a little English place called Jacoby's. I've had a fairly warm welcome into the city, despite the fact that I am fairly overwhelmed by it all...I'm not even sure how to begin.

I live in a small 2 bedroom apartment in downtown Seoul, in a neighborhood called Haebongchon. It's quite close to a district called Itaewon, which is one of the more famous areas of the city, known mostly as the foreigners district. Taking up much of the street is the American military base, which I got a tour of. It's enormous, taking up probably 6 or 7 blocks. I almost feel bad for these soldiers, as they don't have much to do with their time. The Korean government is getting rid of the Itaewon base next year - apparently turning it into a park, which, when translated, means condos. The soldiers don't get much of a chance to involve themselves with the city, as they use American currency and have their own restaurants on the base. It's still strange, though, when I walk by and see enormous brick buildings with barbed wire at the top so close to my house. The rest of the population is made up of Nigerians, Russian prostitutes, English teachers such as myself, and, of course, Koreans. In just a few short days, from both my observations and in speaking to other people, I'd have to say that Nigerians have it the worst. Korea is technologically very advanced, but socially, they are about 50 years behind. In many ways, they hold strong racist tendencies (this is most, of course, not all). There are a few bars which have signs in the windows saying 'No Nigerians'. There is change coming, which they are feeling as Seoul gets more and more diverse. But it is one of those traditions that hangs on, sadly...Other than that, most of the English teachers are very friendly. It seems that everyone knows everyone else, one big community which is a nice thing to enter in to.

Of course, as you may well know, Seoul is disgustingly hot. It's probably 80 or so degrees (30 for you Canucks) but with the humidity the temp goes up to about 100 (40). You sweat and drink and sweat it out and drink. A neverending cycle. Of course, Asians don't sweat so they don't mind it, but it's just killing me. I have to carry a bandana around everywhere I go to wipe the sweat off my face - and it's impossible to sleep at night. Lisa, my roommate has airconditioning. I don't yet, unfortunately, but the school I'm working for is paying for a fan for me so that's my main goal for tomorrow. Koreans also believe in this thing called Fan Death - they think that the fan chops up all of the oxygen molecules, inevitably making you suffocate - so all fans come with a 1 hour timer on them. Every hour, you have to reset the fan...Of course, you can't leave the windows open, because the mosquitos will come and steal all of your blood...Made that mistake once and now I look like a chess board so I've decided it's better to just sweat it out.

I spent my first day touring around alone. Went to the Changdeokgung Palace that had once been destroyed by the Japanese but then restored in the 17th century and was the main center for 270 years. It has a secret garden in the back that is absolutely stunning, and was in fact named a UNESCO heritage spot. Absolutely gorgeous. Also went to the Deoksugung Palace, which has seen a number of Kings - most particularly King Gojong, who proclaimed Korea as the 'Great Han Empire'. It's a mix between the old and the new with a great art museum on the property. One thing that's great about Seoul is that you can be walking down one of the busiest streets in the city and walk into these old palaces that are so quiet and reserved, with beautiful gardens and trails to walk through. I love that.

I have also been in to my School, the W Institute (W for Wise and Wide, seriously). It seems nice. There are 4 Korean teachers and 3 English teachers. I'm taking over for an American teacher who is going home to try out for the CIA...We have 80 kids in total and the biggest class will probably be 6. The kids are adorable. They take on English names and they love having nicknames. One of the cutest kids, Kevin, told me he likes to be called Heavy Kevi, a name my friend and co-teacher Lisa made up for him. They're energetic and ready to learn and talk and think which is great. I start next Wednesday, and I'm nervous but I think it'll go well. The school did, of course, give me a strict dress code - no sandals, no shorts, and of course, no nose ring which did break my heart, but is something I figure I'd have to do at some point or another (it'll go back in on the weekends, however...) I have one month of summer intensives from 9-6:30 pm in August (as Koreans don't think their children should have summer relaxin', only summer studyin') then summer break (4 days), and then in the fall we teach from 3-10 pm. I was worried about having to wake up so early (as I live an hour away from the school) until I realized this morning, after finally getting over the damn jet lag, that there is a man who has a bullhorn loudspeaker who comes right next to my house at 7 a.m every morning going 'BANANASBANANASBANANAS'. Guess everyone does have to make a living.

I'm living out the monsoon season over on this side of the world. It rains every day, generally for about half the day. Weather forecasts will tell you it's going to rain - but never when it will rain - just some point during the day. And so you'll be walking down the street and a downpour will come out of nowhere, leaving you soaked until the sun comes back out and bakes you with the heat. It's an ongoing cycle that I'm struggling to get used to, in all honesty. I know I sound like I'm complaining, but you have to understand my perspective. It may be hot and sweaty and Canada, but here, weather seems to enjoy pushing itself to the extreme and watching the humans suffer under its wrath. It's definitely an adventure.

Anyway that's about it for now. I'll have more later. I have the day off tomorrow so I'm headed out to Insadong where all the artists live. Apparently there's a wicked market there and I need to spruce up my room for the next 6 months so I'm hoping they will have some good stuff for me.

There are entire novels dedicated to questioning what moment it is that will exactly draw the line between childhood and adulthood. I think, for me, it was that second when I found out that my parents too have weaknesses. Whatever it may be. My parents were always the ones who I held on to with both hands, who I could always turn to when things looked grey.

Don't get me wrong. They still are those people. Just...now with weaknesses. Dealing with some of the same problems I'm dealing with. So suddenly we're not on pedestals, we're on levels, and I'm more worried then I've been before. It makes me feel icky, and I never thought I'd use that word at 23.

Huh.