looking forward to looking back

A couple days ago was the 5 month anniversary of my arrival in Korea (I left Portland on July 5th and, losing a day to the time change, arrived in Seoul on July 7th). In light of this, and in cognizance of my overall psychological and emotional mindset lately, I made a list of things that I will likely regret not doing seven months (or more) from now. It's pretty to the point.

1) Learning Korean
2) Taking advantage of my free time by writing
3) Learning about Korean culture (including, but especially not limited to simply traveling) i.e. the arts, etc.

So I decided that I'm going to make myself study Korean for one hour each day, and write one hour each day. And when next semester starts I'm going to formulate a plan in regards to #3.

And I've actually followed my plan. More or less. Enough so that I'm not ashamed to draw attention to it, I guess. I've studied Korean for roughly an hour each night for the past four nights, and though I haven't written as much fiction (I've been thwarted by a winter coldness that makes me want to crawl into bed and go to sleep early), I did force myself to write completely from scratch, as it were, for awhile, something which I don't often do. I'm a bit stymied by a lack of ideas lately, but I wrote anyway even though I had no idea what I was writing about, so that's a bit of an accomplishment. The studying Korean at least is an accomplishment...I'm pretty good at studying when it comes to just completing a certain task (i.e. reading to page 128), studying for an hour with no real structure is kind of like pulling teeth, even though I've realized it's the only way I'm really going to progress in my Korean.

Yesterday I had my weekly teaching at the SOS Children's village. This week was exciting because instead of eating in the small cafeteria like I usually do for dinner, I ate at a family's home. Earlier in the evening I'd actually been wondering if I'd ever get a chance to see an SOS home. For those who aren't familiar with SOS, one of its premises is that every child needs a mother and a family. "SOS mothers" are single women from the community who apply, and it's basically a life-long commitment I believe. They are the heads of household for a group of children, maybe around 5 or 6 depending, on demand. Children (orphans, or children whose parents can't care for them) who are already related who are kept together, but also often have 'siblings' who are unrelated. One of my young students, from the 5 o'clock class, told me that I would come to dinner at her house that day, and I was excited--because I was curious but also because I usually spend at least half of my lunch hour alone in the classroom, which has become increasingly cold (I seem to have a lower threshold for cold than my students, so I've been hesitant to ask for heating). During the 5 o'clock class the volunteer manager came in and expressed the case again, mostly in Korean, and I realized that I was eating at In Sun's because the cafeteria was closed for some reason. I felt a little worried after this, since it appeared that the invitation was more compulsory--I didn't want to present a burden on the mother. But when I arrived at the house that worry vanished pretty quickly.

A table was laid out with fruit, salad and sweet and sour chicken (ordered out for) when I arrived. There were even forks and knives at the place-settings, with colorful paper napkins (I've used a fork and knife to eat maybe four times since I came to Korea, always in pizza or "Western" restaurants). After greeting me, the mother said something to In Sun about her friends, and I heard the name of So Jong, another one of my students. In Sun talked on the phone for a few moments, then ran out, ostensibly to fetch So Jong. Within the next few minutes my six pupils from the 5 o'clock class (which is entirely elementary school students) started appearing, coming in the front door and back door. Apparently the mother had invited all of them to have dinner with me. It felt like some oddly ostentatious reunion, even though I'd seen them merely moments before. We all sat at a table together, the children of the house sat at a lower table in front of the television, and the mother (I never learned her name) fried some pork cutlets for us. I'd never had anything dubbed a 'cutlet' in the U.S., though I've had it often here. Here it's just breaded pork that's deep-fried. It's sort of considered Western food (along with the hamburger steak), though I think it's a dish imported from Japan. There were also bottles of Coke and orange juice for us. I felt pretty special. Most of the dinner conversation consisted of the students saying something to me in Korean (anyonghaseyo?) and cracking up when I repeated it back at them. They don't really know how much Korean I do know, so any use of it amuses and impresses them...though that doesn't keep them from mimicing my accent (which, like my high school students, they do whether I'm speaking English or Korean).

After dinner In Sun ushered me into her room, and there Che Rim, So Jong, In Sun and I played. First we played something called Hamburger or something like that which involved them trying to get me to fall on top of them on the bed, Che Rim often attaching herself to my neck. Then we played a game called "Ting Tang" which is a sort of rhythm speaking game--you keep the time with your hands, one person says another person's name or nickname, and they have to say their own name and then someone else's name, keeping in the rhythm...you get the idea. Then it was almost seven and I had to head back to the classroom to meet the more advanced students. The mother actually said good-bye by saying "Thank you," which perplexed me a little--I wish I had sufficient Korean to tell her how much nicer it was to eat at her house instead of the cafeteria, and how much I appreciated it. Instead, "gomap seumnida," and "annyonghi keyseyo," had to do. I had fun playing with the kids, too, actually. It's interesting and enjoyable to see them outside of the classroom, to interact with them in a different way, and percieve how they relate to me on a more informal level.

Reading: Finished "Glyph" by Percival Everett, and "A History of the African American People, Proposed by Strom Thurmond, as told to Percival Everett and James Kincaid." I enjoyed both of them; Percival Everett has a sort of twisted sense of humor that I enjoy, and seems fearless about his subject matter, which I appreciate even more. I think "History" was my favorite of the two, not just because it has the greatest cover art I've seen in a long time (really worth checking out even if it means looking up the book on Amazon.com). Those two books came to me in my birtday package from my mom, and I read them too quickly, so my reading options are starting to look scarce again.