::A Geek in Korea::

Sometimes you imagine a barrier or limit to something that seems so incredibly insurmountable when you first imagine the challenge, but when it is finally presented to you, the goal that you imagined doesn’t seem so difficult at all. For example, when I lived over a deserted restaurant that’s specialty dish was "daegi kopdaegi" (pig skin), I wondered how anyone could possibly eat such a thing. Pork rinds are probably just as bad for your health, but they are fried to the point of being indistinguishable from any other snack in the food aisle.

It wasn’t for health reasons I stayed away. It’s just the idea of eating pig skin that unsettled me. Who eats pig skin? Anyway, this was always a line I was content to define myself with having. It turns out though, when my wife and I were served some daegi kopdaegi as a free side dish with our pork dinner, once the barrier of ordering for myself was removed the prospect of actually eating such a dish no longer frightened me. Well, maybe it frightened me a little, but hey, free meat…of a sort.

My wife will not touch the stuff, and she was surprised to see that I was willing to try it. She said I didn’t need to try something just for the experience so that I could write about it for strangers on the Internet.. I gave her a look and said, "In some ways you and I are very different." I summoned up some courage, got a dab of red pepper paste ready, and prepared to eat daegi kopdaegi for the first time.

This is the meat in it’s oily, stomach turning cooking phase. The share of pork rinds must come from the fact that the pig skin curls when you cook it on a grill for a period of time. When it was first put on the grill, it was as white as the rice cake below it in the picture. As the heat warmed up the skin, it started to sweat oil and curl.

Here it is in it’s well cooked artery clogging glory. At this point, there were plenty of other things on the table that would be much better to eat, but I grabbed a piece of sangchu (red leaf lettuce) and got some samjeon (hot pepper and bean paste) ready for the experience. I grabbed that nicely rounded piece on the right, wrapped it up, applied sauce, and began to chew.

The texture was similar to some cheap meat I’ve eaten in the past on street corners in Korea. I’ve eaten pork before cut so close to the skin that I could see hair the occasional follicle in the fat. The fat usually cooks down and the meat is fine, if not a little oily and bad to look at. However, the taste of the pig skin was much like eating a wax lip. Nothing to chew down on, but something foreign in your mouth your tongue couldn’t exactly identify. It coated my mount with a strange sort of coat which I quickly washed out with water.

Something like pork rinds, if I remember correctly from the one time I ate them, but nastier without the satisfying crunch. It also had no taste other than fat, but no grissle. When McDonalds finally decides to stop messing around and just kill it’s customers as fast as possible, I could imagine a daegi kopdaegi burger. It would be like biting down on a fried piece of Crisco that had been battered. Add some lettuce and some sauce for flavor and give a pack of cigarettes and the largest coffee possible as the combo meal portions.

With my new schedule in effect for the next two weeks, I’ve got some excessively long class hours for someone that is supposed to be "part time". I leave sometime around 8:30 in the morning, eat lunch at home around 1:00 PM at home, and don’t finish teaching and walk back in the door until around 9:00 PM on some nights. Eight to nine hours of teaching is enough to wear anyone out. Not only that, the holiday in the intensive schedule next week needs to be covered on Saturday this week. Money or not, this is probably the last time I’m going to offer to cover classes on Saturday, as it eats into my leisure time enough when I can’t get home at a decent hour during the week.

To make it through the day, I have my arsenal. I bring warm water to ever class to help my vocal chords. Hours of "repeat after me" lessons wears down my voice. I also bring maesil juice, made at home , to cool me down and refresh me without caffiene. I bring several fruits to eat between classes. I had the first batch of peaches we bought at the street market, some grapes, and a few bananas today to keep me going. My only cheat is an ice cream bar a day purchased from a convenient store to keep me cool when I return from taking a taxi at lunch. It’s been extremely hot since we’ve gotten back from the States, and I need a cool down as much as my dog does on the veranda all day.

I’ve got nearly all my students names memorized by class now. I’m doing much better than I usually do, as I’ve got anywhere from eight to fifteen students in each class. It helps that each class has about five names that repeat. I teach a "Sally", "Kevin", "Jane", "James", and "Tommy" in almost every class. Sometimes I have multiple Kevins in class and get to call them  by their last name, or make up a nick name for them.

My new temporary substitute foreigner coworker seems like an interesting guy. He’s South African, but taught in the Philippines for a few years and decided he needed a change. He went from laid back rural village to Daejeon and said being in a city again has left him in a bit of a culture shock. He’s only been in the country a few weeks, so I gave him a few cultural pointers when I could to help him out.

As I mentioned yesterday, I purchased a DS lite. One of the things I was sure to do when purchasing a machine that’s just as good looking as it is functionally is protect it from the elements. I purchased a scratch proof "Armor" for the outside shell, and a set of screen protectors to protect the delicate screens that come into constant contact with finger and the stylus.

I played several of my DS games on my new DS lite. The screen, of course, is much brighter. In fact, games that were dark, like Metroid Prime Hunters are much more playable as a result. The difference between the size of the two machines jumps out at you when you hold the Lite for an extended period of time. Less "numb hands" from extended sessions of gaming is what I predict. This is a good thing. I do not like the fact that the GBA cartridges I’ve been playing on my DS phat now stick out absurdly on the DS lite, but that’s what the cool "dust guard" that comes with the DS lite is for. If I don’t want to break the aesthetic design, I can keep it in place and just carry around my spare carts in a holder. The buttons are more rubbery, and while less prone to slip, are actually a little less clicky and responsive. It requires no adjustment, but it feels a little different for the first few minutes.

I managed to affix screen protectors with the "no dust" method I learned on an internet gaming forum. First, you get your "dust free room" prepared. Go into a bathroom and turn on the shower. The goal is to "steam up" the room. Once the room is nice and steamy, shut the door and let all the dust in the room settle for ten or fifteen minutes. Bring your DS lite and screen protectors into the room. Apply the screen protectors in the now dust free bathroom. If you happen to get dust on the screen wipe it with a shammy and remove excess dirt from the protector with scotch tape. This should let you have a gaming system without any dust or grit which can provide a nasty distraction or cause your stylus to slip during a frantic game.
My Japanese launch DS phat has served me well with close to two years of constant gaming. I’ll be keeping it in my Nintendo Console family for the the potential of multiplayer. Now all I need is a game my wife and I can play against each other on the DS that she will like. I’ve been searching for a while and nothing has come up yet, so I’ll just have to hope.

The other foreigner teacher was a no show this morning. This isn’t actually surprising, as he’s been late several times in the three weeks I’ve been working there. The only difference was that this time when they went to his apartment to see why, all his stuff was gone. He won’t be missed.

When he wasn’t late, he was either sleep deprived, or hung over reeking of alcohol to the point where children were complaining. His typical excuse for his behavior was that a single mosquito in his apartment kept him up and prevented him from sleeping for days on end. He came in with blood shot eyes constantly. Perhaps he was trying to raise the blood alcohol level of the mosquito to the point where he would be dosile and easy to catch. He even missed classes on his schedule when he did show up at work, forgot books, homework, and generally made everyone else work harder in spite of him. He received written warnings from the director about the poor quality of his work, and it was likely he would be fired soon for his lack of professionalism.

You have to tolerate some fairly unprofessional behavior at times at these kinds of schools. It’s a bad sign when your students cheer your departure. I told the curious students he was devoured by mosquitos and disappeared. I had half the school believing me too.

Because of his departure, I needed to cover his terrible morning class. 15 students in the largest classroom in the school. These are the lowest of the low level students studying a terrible Disney branded book that is more about their characters than actually teaching English. Some of the students are downright awful, and this is coming from someone that can understand everything they say and prevent a lot of problems before they happen. I’m sure with the previous teacher not understanding anything Korean, it would be a madhouse from day to day.

My long lunch break was cut in half, so I needed to hurry home to feed my dog. In my rush, I forgot my keys, and I didn’t realize it until I was stepping out of the elevator to my apartment. So close! I had to go all the way back to the school in a taxi to get what I needed. I returned home after another taxi and quickly cooked a meal, fed my dog, cleaned up his mess, and made sure to give him plenty of water for the hot day. Then it was back to school for my afternoon schedule. I made record time and actually arrived early. Seriously, how can you arrive late for class when you live alone and don’t have a dog that demands your time?

Not only did I have an extra class in the morning, I had an extra class this evening as well.This was added to my schedule last week before we knew the teacher was running out on his contract. It’s a single girl who goes to an "emerging English" style school. All the classes are taught in English, and the girl wanted some extra practice while on summer vacation. We read a story, did some writing, and generally had a good class. It was a long day though.

I went to the game store between classes to pick up a Nintendo DS lite. The Korean voltage version finally has arrived, with Nintendo of Korea (when they eventually open) providing service. The man selling the DS lite unit wouldn’t let me open it to check for dead pixels. He also claimed he provided no warranty of after service. He could only send it for service with 4 or more dead pixels, which is the bullshit Sony Playstation Portable policy. If there is a single problem with my lite when I power it up after recharging the battery in a few hours, I might snap.

I had a follow up visit downtown for my laser treatment, so I decided to head over to my wife’s school to pay her a visit. She had forgotten her subway card, so I needed to stick around to give it back to her so she could travel home with me. As I was walking into the school, I noticed the non-unattractive female coworker of my wife talking to a Korean man in the parking lot of the school. They were way too far to be in listening range, so I walked in and took a seat in the teacher’s office.

This particular coworker has been in the country nine months now. It’s long enough that the optimistic "Korea is great! I love everything!" aura most new people bring here has worn off. Now you can start picking up on the resentments and problems facing people that have gotten over their home sickness and now need to adapt to the culture in other ways. She came into the office and struck up a conversation with me about the Korean man outside.

She said that the man she was talking to had an annoying habit of getting annoyed when she told him that she couldn’t understand Korean very well and they he needed to talk slowly. Koreans rarely do the "talk louder to people that don’t understand" thing, but occasionally you will have people that refuse to slow down their speech even if you can’t understand a word.

I don’t envy young single foreign women in Korea. I might have to deal with the occasional strange taxi driver asking me, "Do you like Korean woman? Eh? EH?" but I don’t get some of their problems. Men, like the man I saw outside, frequently ask her if she is Russian, which is more or less a code word for "Are you a hooker?" She was telling me that during many of her conversations with Korean men, they will ask about her finances. Basically, they are asking her if she needs a little extra money, then suggest that maybe a little prostitution would help make the bills meet. Disgusting. She’s said this has happened multiple times with complete strangers and she no longer has much of a reaction to it. Some women even take it as a compliment.

I can only imagine the extreme reaction this would get if foreigners tried the same thing to random Korean women on the street. Documentary shows, news bulletins, pissed off netizens everywhere calling for our departure if the situation were reversed.

Living in a foreign culture means you need to develop a thick skin.

1. One book that changed your life:
Lonley Planet Korea

2. One book that you’ve read more than once:
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. (*Probably more than 20 times as a child, actually.)

3. One book you’d want on a desert island:
US Army Surival Guide Manual

4. One book that made you laugh:
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and related series

5. One book that made you cry:
All Quiet on the Western Front

6. One book that you wish had been written:
Whatever Douglas Adams was working on at the time of his death.

7. One book that you wish had never been written:
Anything accredited to God or Ann Coulter.

8. One book you’re currently reading:
Just Finished "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. It takes a tremendous ego to lie so poorly.

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read:
Finishing "Learn Hanja the Fun Way"

10. Tag five other people (post answers on your blog or in the comments)
Priscilla, and, uh, FOURHMAN, Adam, Tim, and whoever else wants to be tagged.

It turns out that while the whole "law against pets in apartment building" angle the security guard was trying to feed us was absolute crap. There was a vote by the residents of this apartment. It either took place before we arrived, or after we moved in but were in the United States. They voted to ban pets (or perhaps dogs) in the building. This doesn’t stop anyone really from owning one, but it makes keeping our dog more of a headache. One of the security guards actually was like, "Well, you’ll be getting rid of it if you want to live here."

Uh, no, we won’t.

Security guards must deal with complaints all the time. I know there is a dog that barks constantly in the building. It’s not our dog, and if we didn’t take Yoshi out for walks like responsible people should, no one would even know there was a dog in the apartment at all. I can understand the fact that one barking dog pisses people off and makes all the dog owners look bad. Yoshi is part of the family now, so we can’t exactly "give him up". He’s not going anywhere.

My wife started on the campaign of bribery and placation that works on all security guards. She gave the guy on duty a helping of our watermelon to see if it would quell some of his anger when we took Yoshi out later. We’ll bribe him with some fruit, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll start taking pictures of them when they are asleep on duty. We’ll take care of this problem.

Anyway, we needed a few more items now that we’ve settled into our new place. The nearest superstore that isn’t Wal-Mart requires that we take an pedestrian overpass at least once, and it’s far enough that riding a bike cuts down the time considerably. We got ready for our trip, attacked the walkway ramps on our bikes, and headed over to do some shopping. We got through the madhouse in the store, secured our goodies, and even had an ice cream shake to cool down. Then a bolt of that special kind of summer lightning hit and the thunder boomed. We had two bikes, lots of stuff, and a small window of sunshine on the bridge we came from. We rode out just as the storm started dropping fat rain drops at the bike stand, and as we headed out we were riding on the edge of the storm. The cars that passed us were soaked like they had just been washed, and the cars in front of us were still dried. We rode like maniacs to keep from getting soaked.

As we crossed over the bridge, a man in a stroller was coming up the ramp as I got ready to descend. I had to wait, the rain approached, and I looked at my arm, which I am under doctors orders not to get wet to prevent yet another trip under the laser. The man had no umbrella, and I told him that the rain was coming in the direction he was heading. As my wife approached, he complimented me to her, telling her I had excellent Korean. Whatever man, get off the ramp and spare us getting wet.

We beat the storm back, but not by much. By the time we were locking our bikes back up, the storm was in full effect over our apartment. Our calm, cool dog, Yoshi, who used to be afraid of thunder, was waiting for us to come back, wagging  his tail and being quiet like we told him.

When I bought my dog, no one told me he was a cold blooded killer. All the people in my apartment know somehow, because when he gets into the elevator with me, they look as if I had just brought on a bear, and not a 3 kilogram lap dog. People actually retract in fear, grab their children and put their bodies in between the hunter and it’s pray. Their eyes say, "Take me, but spare my children!" as offer themselves up in sacrifice to my dog  when I walk down the sidewalk in front of my apartment.

It’s so bad, they’ve posted rules on the elevator door, stamped by the security guard.

The translation I was offered states that there was "some law" (that specific), that prevented dogs from living in apartment buildings and villas where other people live. They said there were people that felt that dogs were surprising them when the doors open to elevators, lunging at them. Also, that they defecate or urinate in the elevators, cause too much noise, and aren’t clean enough. It’s actually just selective hassling by "The Man" that I’m going to choose to ignore until someone says something to me directly.

Whoever owns the small bear cub posing as a dog that is pissing these people off does need to do something with their pet. My dog Yoshi is doing none of these things. He never barks. My dog gets more frequent cleanings than the elevator does, so I don’t think it’s us causing the problems. He never does anything wrong in the elevator. The only time he’s ever "lunged" out the door, the person that complained was standing directly in front of the door.

Anyone that stands directly in front of an elevator door that is opening and doesn’t expect anyone to come out is an idiot in the first place. The man made a bunch of tough guy "Fucking dog!" sorts of swears to look tough in front of his girlfriend, wife, or mistress, but honestly, he should have been doing the "Oh, I’ve got the vapors from that frightful dog!" routine the way he was acting. My dog weighed less than his man-purse.

Even if it is, Yoshi’s not going anywhere. The "posting of rules without actually addressing the problem" is the passive aggressive way that Korean people deal with problems that I can’t stand. If the security guards have a problem with the behavior of my dog specifically, they can either tell me directly, or I’ll just ignore anything on the walls. I’m a responsible pet owner who cleans up messes, keeps my dog fed and well attended to when possible, and doesn’t deserve getting dirty looks in elevators because someone wants to give all pet owners a hard time.

There are people in buildings that have barking dogs tI know, so perhaps this is a blanket sort of paper that covers everyone in the building. Perhaps others aren’t as responsible as I am when in the company of other people with my dog. I don’t know. I still shouldn’t have to deal with anyone else’s problems if they don’t apply to me.

I’ve gone from a stable, salary position to a part time, pay as I teach free lancer. I’m not completely freelance, as I’ve made my employer draft a bare-bones contract that defines the rules of our employment and a promise to give me a minimum number of hours a month, but I’m a lot more free that at my other jobs.

Now that my hours directly affect my pay, I’ve gotten more motivated to teach longer hours for the cash. I only teach around twenty-four hours a week, which is already more than my last job. While my current schedule is densely packed and easy to manage, my last salary job was much more difficult. I had no time to eat or go home between classes, so I actually ended up spending all day at the school. Now I finish earlier, still can teach longer, and still have time to go to eat and feed my dog. Even though I work more hours, it’s much easier work and the schedule is much better.

Today my director took me aside and asked me if I was interested in adding another class to my schedule. I have the right to refuse according to my contract, so there has to be a meeting where I am consulted from now on. The class was for an hour, two times a week, after my current classes of the day finished. Normally I’d be sitting around the house after my last class of the day, but I’d be earning a little more money instead. It’s temporary for the summer only, so it wasn’t even a serious commitment to make. I accepted and interviewed the student.

No problems with new classes? Something’s different about me.

Next, our director comes into the teachers room to explain that because there is a national holiday during our intensive courses, they can’t commit to their 20 promised days of instruction. They need us to come in on a Saturday just this one time to make up the day they promised in the morning for the intensive students. This I balked at, immediately, because this isn’t actually something I agreed to in my contract. I’m a weekday only person.

Luckily for them, I had nothing planned for the weekend and I could always use a few more bills lining my pocket as well. I accepted. I even volunteered to take the other teacher’s classes when he said he had plans to visit Seoul. I got turned down, but the fact I even asked means there is something profoundly strange going on. Giving up Saturdays to teach? What’s going on?

I think most of it has to do with the fact that this current boom in hours has the possibility of disappearing next month when all the students are off vacation and I don’t get any more morning hours. I’ve limited my contract to afternoon hours only, so I won’t be offered the evening classes and will probably receive a rather large pay cut as a result. Due to our current situation of trying to save as much money as possible to go on trips around the world, I need to save as much as possible when I can. This is my attempt at cashing in my enthusiasm and rejuvenation after a vacation. Once the school starts burning me out, I’ll probably be griping and wishing I had my dependable salary job back once again.

One of the most different things about Korean and American health care is the simplicity. While people in the USA won’t even allow you to walking into an emergency room to receive treatment without filling out forms and swearing your first born in compensation, the vast majority of the time in Korea, you don’t even need to make a reservation for treatment. There are so many doctors competing for your money that service is excellent, it costs nearly nothing depending on the treatment, and you are never waiting too long. As long as it’s preventative or non-life-threatening procedures, Korean health care is top notch for walk in service. I’ve waited longer times at hair salons than most doctors visits.

August 16th of last year, I had a wart/spot/lesion of some sort taken off my arm with a laser. It was actually three small spots near each other. Later, I had another removed from my hand. All of these spots except, the largest one on my arm, never reappeared. The one on my arm reappeared sometime while I was in the United States, so when we came back to Korea we contacted the doctor. He had promised to remove any of the spots if they returned for free. We decided we wanted to take him up on that offer.

They had records of my visit, but told me that their "checkup offer" was only supposed to be for six months or less. We mentioned we had been outside of the country when the spots reappeared. My wife gave the impression we had been gone a little longer than the two week vacation and that was why were were prevented from cashing in on the offer. It seems I’m constantly being given cover stories now that involve lying about my relationship with the United States.

Anyway, after a quick evaluation, I was hurried into the operating room. I had work in an hour, so no delay was spared. I got shot with Novocaine, then immediately got shot with the laser. The shot was much worse than the laser, but I was surprised that they gave almost no time for the drug to take effect. Usually I was given some time so I was good and numb before someone operated on me. Whatever the procedure is, I didn’t feel a thing when the laser was cooking off my spot. This time I remembered not to go breathing in any of the burning flesh smell either. After that I was finished. I have a checkup on Friday, and I have to avoid getting my arm wet for a few days. All of this is free, and the guy is located near the subway line.

This won’t be that difficult, as they are repairing the boiler in my building and there is no hot water for showers for the next three days.