The Ongoing Struggle

Disclaimer: I am not an industrial factory worker from the nineteenth century. Compared to said worker, my problems are tiddlywinks.

Even so, I continue to struggle with coming up with a damned schedule that works for me. Here it is, as it stands:

5:30 - Get my ass out of bed. Throw on clothes, because Buffy's got to go on her walk, and there's usually a couple of people out on the street who might be offended if I saunter around naked.

6:00 - Fucking aerobics. I do it in the morning, because I feel like I have part of the day robbed from me if I do that or other exercise in the evening.

6:30 - Shower, because for some strange reason, I'm sweaty and gross.

7:30 - Clothes on? Make-up on? Hair somewhat dry? Dog fed and watered? Time to ride my bike to work.

8:30 - Be a contributing member of the labour force, curse at stupid security system. (At least I can get around it to get at Google Drive now.)

4:30 - Ride my bike home, curse at everyone who parks their vehicle on the curb or sidewalk or ignore the lights or won't move their asses out of the way even though I've rung that bell and they've looked me dead in the eye and they KNOW I'm there and don't have enough space to get around them, those assholes.

5:00 - Walk the bitch, delightful though she is.

5:30 - Listen to a Pimsleur Korean MP3. Do all the Pimsleur series presume that you're male? It's kind of weird.

6:00 - Get other shit done, like practice singing or try and fail to write something interesting or go to a cafe to drink coffee and try to look interesting, Buffy needs love now, oh hey, when are you going to finish cleaning, how about cooking a proper meal for yourself, can't you pay attention to this TV show or movie for more than ten minutes, fuck it, just start reading again.

10:00 - Sleep.

(The cafe is important; if I leave myself in my apartment for too long, I start trying to chat with the dog and she just isn't a good conversationalist.)

So you can see how I might have problems fitting everything in. I do not expect advice for this. However, if you have a TARDIS to provide, that would be helpful.

Some notes on Korean TV dramas.

I've watched a few of these series now - thank you, http://www.dramacrazy.net! - and I would like to give my thoughts on some commonalities to be found in them.

The male leads are often very, very stalker-ish. How much so? To be point where if I were the female lead, I'd be filing a restraining order at around episode five. The constant meddling in the heroine's life! Creeping about outside her residence! The wrist-grabbing! Oh lord, the wrist-grabbing! This is not the path to true love. This is the path to a deep, burning resentment.

There is often an older woman who is in a position of authority over the leads. She is evil. Most of the other characters on the show will learn something from their experiences, but she will not. She will continue being powerful and evil as she rides off into the sunset.

The two romantic leads don't seem to like each other very much, even when one is stalking the shit out of the other. Their love will become reciprocal at about the two-thirds to three-quarters point in the series. A realistic explanation as to why this occurs will not be provided. They will still seem not to like each other very much.

Kissing is serious business. So serious that months will pass between one kiss and the next. Deep thoughts and many flashbacks will be had about each kiss.

If you'd like to recommend some Korean dramas that don't follow these stereotypes, oh, pretty please, do!

On Traveling Alone

It is often the case in this country that I wind up traveling alone - that is, no companion out of the starting gate and no one to meet when I reach my destination. Although my favoured form of traveling here is as a sort of auxiliary to another group - we can meet and part and meet as we see fit, for the purpose of good times and lessened frustration for all - there is some things to be said for the 'going it alone' strategy.

You can plan spontaneously. In a group, there is an expectation that you will move together and thus any change in the itinerary is subject to discussion and debate. If you're by yourself, you can change your plans on the fly immediately upon receiving new information or whims.

You can experience things that you wouldn't have in a group. You can talk to random people, random Koreans can come up and talk to you - yes, they're looking to practice their English, but isn't that what you're in the country for?

You can do what interests you the most. Many friends I have - well, they like beaches and clubs and shops the most. That's all right. Sometimes, I really enjoy those things too. But I really love museums and historical sites and chances to just wander with a camera in hand. (Sometimes, they really enjoy those things too.) It's so pleasant, though, to be able to go in any direction you want to. I will go to this amusement park! I will go to this island! I will go ride my bike! Those are grand statements to make.

With western food, at least, you have the choice of where you want to eat. Kebabs? Sure. Burritos? Definitely. Burgers? Why not? There is no need to negotiate with anyone. Note that this does not apply for Korean restaurants.

You become more independent. Any problem you face, you must figure out to how to fix it. I actually find that I'm calmer about 'situations' when I'm alone as opposed to when I'm in a group. Somehow, there is a mental block in my mind that if I'm in a group, someone else can solve the problem and I'm free to get into a pancake. By myself, there is no such crutch.

All your opinions about the experience are your own. You're not reliant on anyone else to decide how good a time you really had.

It can be lonely. But it's worth doing.

This is the great conflict of my life, which unfortunately has no villains!

I like puppies. I like dogs. I enjoy their complete honesty of emotion, their eagerness, their complete lack of pretension, their dear paws. I never met a dog I didn't like - even Thumper, who was kind of mean, but he had health problems, poor thing. I really, really want a dog.

Unfortunately, my landlady is afraid of dogs. So is my landlady's daughter. I don't know why they're afraid of dogs - perhaps it's a lack of experience with those fine furred things or they've had a bad run-in. It's not my business and it's not their fault. As such, they're allowed to forbid canines in my apartment as they see fit.

I really, really want a dog, though!

Whenever I'm upset, sad, or feeling crushed under a great weight of ennui, I ask my mother to send videos and photos of the dogs. Some - but not all - of my happiest memories of visiting home involve playing and cuddling with said dogs, as well little Tula, that happy pee machine. Whenever I see a dog strolling along the sidewalk, I feel an overwhelming urge to coo over and pet them. Dogs, to me, represent happiness, not fear.

Having a dog would increase my happiness quotient. But it would also stab a dagger of fear into my landlady and her daughter, which would be terrible, because they are very kind, virtuous people. I am staying in Korea for at least another year and a half, though - that long a span of time without a canine companion!

Maybe getting a boyfriend would be a good substitute, but he probably wouldn't play fetch nearly as well.

About that time, yes?

The weight of ennui is bearing down upon me and if I've learned anything about myself this past twenty-eight years, it's that I need to nip this shit in the bud right now. Therefore, this is my plan for the next week.

I will spend as little time in my apartment as possible. It is a nice, goodly apartment, but being in there alone evening after evening is not doing nice, goodly things for my morale or productivity. Various cafes? Sure, even that would be better.

I will see about hapkido or gumdo classes. I can't ride a bike every day; therefore, I must get regular physical activity through some other means.

Alcohol is right out.

Finally, this weekend, I'll go somewhere. I'll find a festival going on - or an Adventure Korea trip or that sort of thing - and I'll go there. I have to get out of Andong.

That is all. All these things are feasible.

This was an eventful weekend.

On Saturday, I went to a wedding. But not just any wedding! That's right, one of my coteachers, Mr. Kim, tied the knot and throughout the occasion, I was helplessly confused throughout the entire process. To start with, I haven't been to a wedding in over a decade, so the entire process is an enigma to me. Secondly, I was brought to the event by the gym teacher. He is a nice guy (albeit a bit of a brat), but he doesn't speak a lick of English and so was unable to steer me in the proper direction. One of the wedding hall staff took me upstairs to have lunch instead. Thirdly, Korean wedding halls - at least, the one I went to - are big, flashy affairs where there's seemingly a score of couples getting hitched within a few hours of each other. So I didn't know where the hell to go once I ate. I wandered about and madly texted another coteacher - Mr. Shin - who did not respond until after I found the right ceremony just in the nick of time and he went off searching for me. I summoned him back.

The ceremony had swords and Mr. Kim looked very nervous and sang a very enthusiastic song. His bride, whose name I do not know, was very beautiful. I hope the endeavour works out beautifully for them!

After that, I got ferried to the dining area again, this time by by the administration of my school, and almost ate myself sick. Sashimi, guys. It's a hell of a drug. Mr. Shin was kind enough to keep me company during this time and also to drive me back to Andong, along with a bunch of students. There may have been a bit of singing along to 'Mr. Simple'. Don't you judge us.

Once home, I changed my clothes did some other little things, and headed off for the train to Seoul. I ended up sitting next to an ajosshi who was all tuckered out from hiking and had the unfortunate affliction of snoring, so I hightailed it to the dining room and drank and read. Life is hard. Once in Seoul, I went to Itaewon, during which I had an awesome conversation with a dude (a US air force dude) who did not make moves on me in an egregious fashion! In Itaewon! And I was drinking really good beer at the time! Wow. After that, I went to sleep in a jjimjilbang. (Weirdly enough, I felt more subconscious than ever before about being naked in a jjimjilbang and I haven't a clue why.)

Next morning? Tattoo. Until the very evening. I only barely made the last bus, and only as a standby. If you want ridiculously detailed black and white work, go with Slam of Tattoo Korea and he shan't disappoint.

I was in pain and agitation on the bus ride back to Andong. But it was worth it.

Next week will probably be less action-packed.

YouTube does the work of words.

I don`t really care to describe in words my mental trajectory of the past week. So I`ll describe it through the majesty of YouTube videos! It`s what all the hip kids are jiving to these days.

Last Thursday? Best not to go into details. But needless to say that I did indeed have... 'Hurt Feelings'.

By Friday, though, I was ready to deal with my emotions in a healthy way. That is, by the way of 'Drink'.

Saturday day was a wash, but by Saturday night (as I did later on Friday night), I remembered the anthem of the 'Single Ladies'. Sadly, nothing came of it.

I awoke on Sunday with the profound desire to do nothing more than crawl under my blankets and watch pirated videos. Truly, I did need 'Home for a Rest'.

Monday, I felt quite small and insecure, thinking how amazingly unlikely was my birth. I tried to put a cork in it when I realised I was worrying my poor coteacher sick.

On Tuesday, I just drank lots of 'Fuckin' Tea'.

But by Wednesday, the usual frustrations began to creep back into my notice. My mental monologue went much like this cat's, complete with a male British accent.

And by the this very Thursday, I decided that fuck it, I should be 'Takin' Care of Business'. So I did.

Next time, I shall be positive, oh yes I shall. You might regret this.

Ten things Korea and I must talk about.

This topic is by the request of Lara, may she live for a thousand years. 

               I hold a great deal of affection for Korea. I can truly say that if I hadn’t have come to Korea, I’d have missed out on many wonderful friendships and experiences and I’d certainly be much more poor. Nevertheless, Korea, we must have some words regarding certain topics.

                Your taxi drivers, for one.

                The majority of Korean taxi drivers I interact with on a day to day basis are tolerable to deal with – sometimes, even a joy. (Sometimes, the offer of a Juicy Fruit on a bad day is all that is needed to turn it around.) But sometimes, sometimes…

                There are those that will do their level best to misunderstand you if you mispronounce a word in the slightest way.  There are those whose cabs have a suspicious scent and who refuse to roll down their windows. Then there are Seoul taxi drivers, who will take you to the exact place you don’t want to be, take you halfway to your destination only to pretend that they no longer know where to ferry you to and demand pay for the privilege to abandon you in the middle of nowhere, and speed so fast down the freeway that you’re debating whether you should text your friends to tell them what happened to you.

                I must also voice a complaint about the lack of proper ovens in your apartments.  I have never been much of a cook. My skills on that count amount to “let’s stick it in a frying pan and see what happens.”  But I do like to bake. Cookies, cakes, muffins, pies… These are things I like to concoct and stick in an oven until they are edible and delicious. And yet, you persist in equipping your apartments with little stovetops instead, leaving me to purchase an inadequate toaster oven.

                How am I to treat your workers and students with delicious cookies if I am only able to bake six cookies at a time, I ask you? How? Korea, I only want to make your people happy.

                Your urban planning needs work. Roads should be at least two lanes, no matter if there’s cars parked on the side or not. You need proper addresses that can be punched into a GPS in order that I have one less charge to lay against your taxi drivers and everyone’s lives can be made that much easier. A deliveryman should not have to phone me for directions to my home. My parents don’t have to – the street and the house number is all that is needed.

                Then there is the matter of your bread. Garlic bread, in particular, was never meant to be sweet. It is meant to taste of garlic and butter and salt. Yet I have learned to fear your offerings at the Paris Baguette and the school cafeteria. I know if I sample them, my hopes will only be dashed again.

                Korea, you provide for me a cheap drinking experience, but not a quality one. Soju costs a buck a bottle, beer at ten bucks a pitcher. Is it good beer? No. Not by a quarter. There is a reason why your foreigner population makes silly rhymes about ‘Hite and shite’ and ‘Cass and ass’.  There is a reason why I have gone so far as to brew my own beer. It’s a time-consuming process and the result is much more drinkable and delightful than your domestic mass-produced varieties.

                I don’t hold much love for many of the mass-produced Canadian beers. I’d sooner live off of Molson Canadian and Kokanee for the rest of my life than Max. May my father forgive me.

                ‘Maybe’ does not mean ‘no’.  I appreciate your need to save face, but ‘maybe’ actually does mean ‘maybe’. If you answer my question with a ‘maybe’, you give me false hope. Depending on the question, it’s crueller or at the very least, more annoying than giving me a simple ‘no’. ‘No’ will not offend me. ‘No’ will leave me nodding and moving on to the next thing. I give you permission – nay, my blessing! – to say ‘no’.

                Many Koreans – although, to be fair, the same charge can be laid against citizens of many nations – are all too ignorant about the rest of the world. One of my principals was amazed to learn that honey was not strictly a Korean product, but is, in fact, produced in Canada too. He didn’t try to argue against the point, which was good, but why should it have been so surprising? If they’re spending thousands upon thousands of dollars on every English teacher to come here, why should the most basic facts about Canada, America, the UK, Ireland, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, be incredible revelations to them? Growing up, I was at least expected to learn a Cliff Notes version of the history of the US and Europe. (And also, how Canada fucked up in regards to Asians and the Jews and Africans and Eastern Europeans and Natives. Or maybe BC was singular in this? I know not.)

                Advance notice is a welcome thing. As strangers in a strange land, our kind often become friends with other strangers. As friends, we often make plans with each other – to meet at a restaurant, to go watch a movie, to share a drink at a bar. Sometimes, we simply plan to enjoy our evenings alone and in peace. You can imagine, then, why we don’t particularly like being told at the last moment that actually, we have a staff dinner that we simply must attend. So please, a day of warning. Even two. It would make things so much easier and leave us so much less disgruntled. (Also, please, at these staff dinners, the occasional word in English would do much to diminish the awkwardness we feel.)

                When I venture into your stores, I am not a creature to be stalked. If I need your help, I’ll get your attention some way. If you follow my every step, I feel like in turns a circus freak or a suspected shoplifter. Just let me be. Give me some space.  The personal bubble needs to be respected.

                Lastly, there is the matter of your students. I teach high school girls. From 8:30 AM until 4:00 PM, they have regular classes. They have two afterschool periods after their cleaning time. Many, if not most of them study until 10:00 PM, until they’re finally let off. Many others must attend sessions at a hagwon. Many of them get by on six or less hours of sleep per night.  They fall asleep in my class. Can you blame them? I want to give them a love of learning and a genuine interest in English, but so many of them have been burnt out so thoroughly that it takes a herculean effort to get them to lift their heads from their arms and speak.

                They are afraid of exercising any creativity in class, for they’re so afraid that they’ll be ‘wrong’. I keep straining my brain on how to give them confidence in their own abilities and they’ll not have any of my ideas.

                This is my rant for this evening. Next week, I will rave about just the opposite, just you wait.

Fear for me, friends.

The poorly timed English camp cometh.

Why is it poorly timed? Because two friends are being so bold as to have birthdays to celebrate this weekend, when I'll be teaching said camp. Either the camp is poorly timed or their birthdays are and it seems a trifle unfair to blame two sets of parents for not foreseeing these circumstances two decades and some-odd years ago.

It will be a superhero-themed camp. The students will make masks and things. It will last from Saturday morning until noon on Sunday. Fourteen students, fortunately, for that is six less than last year.

On Sunday afternoon, I'll be huddled under blankets, looking much like a Jawa. I will consume pizza and beer and media until I am either summoned away or sleep takes me.

I will sleep until an indecent hour. I will give no fucks.

On a more distressing note!

I fear I will never get this song out of my head.

Damn you, Korea.

State of the foreigner address.

It seems like it is indeed possible to feel content and melancholy at the same time.

It's midterm season at my high school. I had no school yesterday because of my middle school's anniversary. I had no classes today because my coteachers were occupied with making sure the students were prepared. No classes and half days for the rest of the week. I've been spending the free time I've had so far relatively productively.

The beer is turning out all right; the cider still presents some trouble. I'll fix this in time.

At the same time, I feel a touch detached from other people. A few weeks ago, I started to write again, then nothing. I think the two things feed off of each other.

I also suspect one of my students is being bullied... I saw her crying to a teacher in the hall the other day. I genuinely like the girl and I wish there was more I could do for her than kind smiles and words.

But at least I'm better than I was; I'm capable of enjoying my own company now, and reading plus warm weather is a truly wonderful combination.

I still wish I could have a dog, though.

Things I've noticed when visiting home.

I'm in Canada right now. I will be until the 25th, at which point, I will return to Korea for another Exciting Year of Adventure (TM). As can be expected, some thoughts have occurred to me during this trip.

"Why does everything taste so damned good?"

"No, Kelsey. You wave, you do not bow. And put your other hand away when forking over your debit card, you weirdo."

"Ah! I must run to get across before the light changes or I'll be waiting forever! No, wait. No, I don't. Shit, you have to press a button here?"

"It's midnight. You know what I need right now? An alcoholic beverage of some description. Wait, there's none in the house? The liquor store is closed? The cold beer and wine store is closed? What do you mean, I can't hop across the street to the convenience store and get some?"

"The air smells very nice today."

"$2.50 for a one zone bus ticket? $5 for a three zone ticket? What the shit is this?"

"It's nice to be able to ride on the skytrain without being elbowed in the gut by an assertive old lady."

"The bus from Chilliwack to Vancouver only passes through every two hours or so? And it costs how much? And there's no guaranteed seating? And the seats are like what? What the shit is this?"

"Why does everything taste so damned good?"

"Okay, Kelsey. You are in a public place. You have a reasonable expectation of everyone around you understanding what you're saying. Judge yourself accordingly."

"Hey, there's a white person! Do I know them? No, I do not."

"HST. We meet again, my old enemy."

"My friends here are awesome. My friends in Korea are also awesome. Why can't I have both at the same time, if just for science's sake?"

"Hey! I can get Chilsung Cider and Peppero in Burquitlam! Sweet! And I can read all the hangul!"

"Is it wrong to drink all the beer just because it tastes so damned good? No."

This is just a short sampling, mind.

So when did I really decide to go to Korea?

It was shortly after my Grandpa died last year.

I was grieving, angry, and thoroughly miserable. I was stuck in a job with a boss who was downright emotionally abusive, one who needed the flimsiest of provocations to berate me for hours upon end. My finances were so tight that I was living off of potatoes because it was, when I looked at how much they cost divided by the calories they provided, the cheapest foodstuff I could find, and regularly skipping fare for the Skytrain, hoping like hell I wasn't caught. Even then, I was still begging for money off of my parents. It was not a proud time for me.

Two things happened. I can't remember the order they happened in.

My parents informed me that I had inheritance money coming in. It was hardly the circumstances for a windfall that I wished for, but quite frankly, it saved my ass. I feel a lot of guilt about it, but so it is.

A woman came into the store I worked at - she looked younger than my own years, and definitely more optimistic - carrying a bundle of papers. She needed to send those papers off to Korea, because she had applied for EPIK and glories be, she got Seoul. I thought then, "Why the hell am I subjecting myself to this when she's going to have a goddamned adventure?"

I had been applying to hagwons at the time. After that, I told my recruiter that I was going to hold out for a public school and my employer that oops, I got an offer for a teaching position in Korea and incidentally, here's my notice. I lied when I told her that I actually accepted that offer, but fair's fair, she lied when she told me that she'd need me in for the rest of the month to help with the holiday rush. Thus, I didn't work for the whole of December. I passed my interview, documents were sent, I felt fresh and fancy-free now that I was rid of the poisonous influence of the Boss That Shall Not Be Named...

Then I got worried. I received no word back for an entire month whether I got a position or not. At the end of January, I started to make other plans. "Maybe Montreal," I thought. "Or Halifax. I don't know. Somewhere that's not here." I'd resigned myself to this, got the email from EPIK, less than three weeks before I'd be expected to go... then I subsequently launched myself into a panic attack.

My parents and brothers got me to buck up and accept the job offer. Thank the cosmic muffin they did. What would have befallen me if I'd declined it?

Chances are, I'd be working another shit job back here in Canada. That's one of the many reasons I'm going back to Korea in a month. There's many more, quite a few on the more positive end of the scale.

See you next year.

A new year is coming.

Very shortly for Korea. So I'd like to say, to all the friends I've made there who stuck by me - through all my drama, through all the times where I was, quite frankly, a pain in the ass...

Thank you. I love you a lot. No matter the quality of this year, whether it had been good, bad, average, or great, the next will be so much better for you.

The Hi Mart Dancing Girls Are My Enemies

I live not far from a busy road in Okdong. All day and almost all night, you can hear traffic rolling along down it, but this has become white noise to me by this point, and therefore, I am not annoyed by it. People have to get from one place to another.

On the other side of this road, there is a Hi Mart, which an electronics store. It's like Best Buy sans the media; the LG and Samsung stores come in roughly similar formats. On some days, there will be a mini stage set up with sound equipment. On the stage will be two dancing girls. They will be dressed alike in impractical sexy/cute outfits and they will be holdings mics. They will be dancing and making the occasional announcement using those mics.

Leaving aside gender issues for the time being (can't they at least having dancing boys now and again? for me?), I am convinced that the dancing girls want to see me destroyed.

The problem is that sound spits on the difference in distance between my apartment and the Hi Mart. "Oh, Kelsey, you think shutting the window will help you?" the sound seems to say. "You're so adorable, I could just pinch your cheeks." So the sound leaks through and I'm treated to an endless stream of muffled K-pop and indecipherable speech all the live-long day.

This is particularly bad, because I'm one of those people who cannot deal with any sort of music or talking if I want to get any work done. My concentration shatters. Headphones don't work - even listening to music of my own choosing has that effect. Earplugs hurt my ears. Do I try to soldier through the assault? Do I say 'fuck it' and go to Tous les Jours and hope that their radio is all quiet-like today? I've not yet found an adequate solution.

Are the dancing girls aware of the torment they inflict upon me? Common sense would suggest 'no'. My soul after being treated to the billionth repetition of Big Bang's 'Tonight' while struggling to churn out words in the right order would say 'yes'. To what purpose? That, I can't say. Maybe it's the only way they can entertain themselves on the job. Maybe it's part of a sinister master plan, the likes of which you'd have to have the mind of a Medici and the heart of a Borgia to discern. Probably the latter.

And that is why the Hi Mart dancing girls are my enemies. At least the yowling of stray cats is limited to the summer months.

I saw something horrible in Indis last night.

No, I did not see anyone shanked in a barfight or streakers or anything like that. I saw something worse.

Indis is a western bar that takes itself seriously enough that it has western-style toilets. (And a random hodge podge of Americana and a sizable, high insensitive statue of a Native American in front of the patio.) Inevitably, while I did not drink much that yesterday, I eventually had to travel to them in order to heed the call of nature. This I did. I opened the door of the first stall.

The seat was splattered with pee. This in itself is gross, but not worthy of comment on the internet.

Nay, the curious bit was the question of how exactly did pee splatter out in a one-foot radius on the floor around the bowl. How? Just how? If you mess up the bathroom procedure that badly, shouldn't you just go home? Shouldn't you have gone home well before that point? Or at least covered up your terrible crime through thorough application of toilet paper.

It was worse than anything I've seen with the squat toilets and people's aims tend to be... less than precise with those in bars. Vomit sprinkles, lovely.

This is why I used the second stall.

The dating situation in Andong sucks and I will tell you about it.

Not just for me, but for every westerner in town.

It comes down to simple mathematics. The fewer English speakers in town, the smaller the dating pool, the lower the chance that you will find someone with the right sort of chemistry. Thus, the power of science is against us.

So the vast majority of us wind up being frustrated pandas, bitching about our prospects while quaffing a beer in Indis. And nothing, in a manner of speaking, gets done.

Basically what I'm saying is, while I quite like where I am, there are times - there are times - where I wish I was in the big city. But on the plus side, I'm reading a shit load of books!

Ten Things I Like About Korea

It's been a long time since I last posted, has it not? Anyway, in case you weren't aware, I am staying here for at least another year, so why not review some of the reasons why?

Here you are, then, in no particular order and leaving out any mention of how much I'm paid:

1) The ease and cheapness of travel. Back in western Canada, if you don't have a vehicle, you have but three options: begging a ride off of someone, air travel, and the Greyhound. The first is unreliable. The second is expensive (if fast), and will only take you so many places. As for the third... Pricy, smelly, cramped, possessing of an extremely limited schedule, and regretably the only consistent way to get to the rural areas. Here in Korea, we've got trains, we've got buses, and it costs less than twenty bucks to get to Seoul. For a Canadian, this is magical.

2) The landscape. I grew up with very certain idea what a proper landscape possesses, namely, the more trees and the more mountains, the better. Does Korea have these things? Why, yes. Yes, it does.

3) The food. Oh, how I miss western food! I'll probably gorge myself on the stuff when I visit home. But if you tell me jjimdak isn't amazingly delicious, I will pity you, sir.

4) Pantyhose in convenience stores. Getting dressed in a snazzy fashion for work or a night on the town and find yourself faced with a run? 7-Eleven has your back. You can also get socks!

5) The internet. Do you think I ever managed to get 10 Mbs / second download speeds on my home network back in Canada? You're cute. You make me laugh.

6) The students. They're not perfect - heavens know that I wasn't at their age - but generally speaking, they're a good bunch. When they're enthusiastic, it's infectious.

7) Clothes shopping. It doesn't cost a lot to look good here and as a consequence, I have learned how to dress myself accordingly. Some articles are hard or impossible to shop for given my figure, but you win some, you lose some. Starsha, Ashley, you would be proud.

8) The extreme amount of museums. I've got a history degree, guys. This stuff is like catnip to me.

9) Noraebang. The setup is just so much nicer than karaoke generally has back home. Instead of getting to sing on average two songs over the course of several hours in a crowded bar, you get to sing until your lungs give out in a cozy room with your pals. The only problem is that a lot of my foreign friends are less apt to appreciate the beauty of the thing.

10) My coteachers. I lucked out. Big time. Two of them are in stiff competition for the title of "Nicest Lady Ever", two more I count among my friends and I greatly enjoy hanging out with them in and out of school, another one has been very helpful indeed in matters regarding transportation, getting set up, etc., despite his busy schedule, and the last, while I don't know her too well, generally strikes me as a sweetheart. In short, they rock.

That is all for now, but there are other reasons. If I wasn't writing this on a cellphone, I'd tell you about them.

Oh great, Canadian politics.

This has nothing to do with Korea, but I can't vote this election and I'm taking it out on you.

I suppose it happens to everyone when an election comes around: you look at the poll numbers, you look at the people, and you think, “What the hell are you thinking?”

It could very well be that we end up with yet another term for Harper. I shan’t say that it’s likely, because there’s two weeks left in the campaign and if history has taught me anything, it’s that you really can’t know for certain until the election. Sure, you can make some well-thought out predictions. But then, Turner was supposed to beat Mulroney in their second round.

The fact that this is even a possibility, though, pisses me right the fuck off.

We’re talking about a government that made a record number of senate appointees, had the brilliant idea to spend metric fuck tons on the G20 summit and hold it in Toronto with consequences no one could expect, thought the appropriate response to those times when the opposition parties showed balls was to shut Parliament down for months on end, thought there was no reason to be concerned about the economy in November 2008, continuously attempted to push through draconian American-esque copyright laws, slashed arts funding, made the census both pricier and fucking useless, and so many other sins that to list them all would make this paragraph unwieldy and grotesque.

They have proved themselves incapable of keeping the budget in the black and running it into the red responsibly. They delight in pushing their small little worldview on everyone, within Canada and without. Remind me again: why do you want them around?

Fuck, can you even remember the last genuinely solid Conservative government? Mulroney? (Yeah, ask Campbell how well that worked out.) Clark? (How can you even judge with so short a time in question?) Diefenbaker? (I’m pretty sure he stole people’s souls through his eyes. Look at his photos and tell me I’m wrong.)

Contrast that with the Liberals. Chretien was corrupt as an old floppy disk, but he could balance those budgets. Trudeau saved us from the further embarrassment of having to go and ask Mommy England if perhaps we might tweak our own damned constitution, please. Pearson gave us universal health care whilst dealing with the twin troubles of minority governments and Diefenbaker constantly trying to suck his soul out. They have been competent and occasionally capable of grandness, which is better than never achieving that state at all.

(They were also much more stylish and cool then Conservative PMs, Progressive or otherwise. The most stylish thing Harper has ever done was invoke John Lennon and might I remind you which PM Lennon actually hung out with?)

So please, dear Canadians, come May 2nd, please think and vote.

PS: This is not aimed towards any of my Canadian friends because you wouldn’t be my friends if you weren’t already in the habit of thinking, QED.

PPS: I also realise that voting against someone isn’t as sexy as voting for someone. Mayhaps I’ll write an ‘Ignatieff! Layton! May! They’re pretty great!’ post later.

PPPS: Maybe you ought to have a looksee at the CBC Vote Compass then mosey over to the Liberal, NDP and Green Party websites to read their platforms. It would make me happy.

PPPPS: Okay, mom. I’ve written a political rant. Are you happy now?

I am the best at updating.

Quite a bit has happened over the past couple of weeks. Let's discuss it, shall we?

I am now safely ensconced in Gyeong Am Girls' High School, in the teachers' lounge. Beside me sits one of my illustrious co-teachers, Go. I have six total, including the one at Dosan Middle School. My classes at Gyeong Am total seventeen with ten students each - at Dosan, I have three classes with fifteen students total.

Teaching has been committed. There's a learning curve involved, as I have to learn how to speak with EFL students who are much younger than I and who are not exposed to English every shining day. The bad news is that I'm pretty beholden to the textbook, although it looks like one week out of three, I can do my own thing. Provided classes aren't cancelled and suchlike.

Since the last post, I have discovered the other downtown of Andong, where I can go and try to find clothes and have a teeth-grinding fit when I find that nothing nice fits me, and commit acts of noraebang. (Noraebang, to those unaware, is karaoke.) There is a swell place that others have found with such timeless Korean hits as Don't Stop Me Now and The Immigrant Song, along with other songs with music videos that have nothing to do with the lyrics.

I have also ventured out of town, on my own volition. This was to visit my most esteemed brother Brady in Tongyeong. The journey stressed to me two things: a) payphones are clever devices for eating your change and allowing you to exercise your imagination by guessing what the other person said on the too-quiet line, and b) cellphones are useful devices for not sitting in a Lotte Mart for an hour more than necessary. I only applied for my ARC on Wednesday, but I cross my fingers every day for it to show up at my school so I can act on these revelations.

Otherwise, the trip was fun if short. Brady has a cheerful pack of friends for whom the maxim 'you can dance if you want to' doesn't go far enough. He also treated to me to fine Tongyeong cuisine, including a pork spine soup (I forget the name; it's tricky business trying to navigate that meal with chopsticks) and shabu shabu. He has LG-brand shampoo in his bathroom. Yes, as in the electronics company.

This weekend, I will remain in Andong, for a posse of South Africans are descending upon our city. Also, I will be playing host to the illustrious Jouelle! We will party and feast upon the fuzzy peaches, as true Canadians must.

I have to go now, for it is class time now. Keep everything safe in the meantime.