Today I rode the bus downtown and tried to then take a different bus onto the island of Dolsan. After a while of trying to figure out the different bus routes, I was finally convinced that I had figured out the correct bus to take.
So there I was sitting on the bus when I realized I was the only one left. The rest of the bus had cleared out. I knew then that I had taken the wrong bus. I looked toward the front of the bus to the bus driver who was trying to get my attention. He pulled into the bus station. Then he yelled to me (to my surprise because most people don't know any English) "Uh...Last Stop! I love you!!"
A little lost in translation? Or maybe he really did love me, because I have a small face. :-)
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Octpuses, octopi, octopodes
I think I'll begin my tale with a stroll I took with a fellow foreigner a few weeks ago. We were walking amongst the outdoor fish markets of Yeosu, when we began to notice all of the dried octopi (my preferred plural, of the grammatically correct trio) around. This sparked a conversation about octopi. Robby (who I was with) told me that octopi are the smartest invertebrate, that their intelligence is equivalent to that of a cats' and that they can, for example, watch another octopus solve a problem and learn from that octopus, therefore solving a similar problem in the way the octopus they observed solved it. Pretty intense.
He also mentioned that he thought it would be cool to own an octopus as a pet. I told him that I had the same thought about a year ago and I did some research on it. Almost every site on the internet regarding owing an octopus as a pet offered the same advice: WARNING! DO NOT GET A PET OCTOPUS! Then would follow some horrifying story about owning a pet octopus.
Anyway, the following week, I went walking with my roommate Kayla and we saw a bucket of little octopi. Before I knew what was happening, a woman grabbed an octopus and cut out its brain. (I would later find out that octopi have 9 brains, well, one large neural clustering at the head as well as 8 neural clusters leading down through each of it's 8 tentacles). Then, she cut up the octopus into little pieces. The octopus was all chopped up on her cutting board but it was FAR from lifeless. It was still squiggling and moving all around. Then she put the pieces of the still moving octopus into a bowl and served it to a customer. Basically, I was horrified. I wanted to cry, but I was too shocked.
Kayla, however, was only fascinated. She said that we should eat a live octopus, that it should be our goal of the year. And then somehow, although I'll argue I was still in shock and not in a sane state of mind, I pinky swore that I would do this. I figured that it would happen sometime next summer and that I'd have about 9 months to wrap my mind around the idea of eating a live octopus.
So we go to work the next day, and Kayla goes and mentions our goal to our Korean co-worker Lydia. Lydia goes, "I want to see this, let's go Saturday at 2:00." So I choke, and then I'm all "WHAT?!? No! But I need time! I need to make peace with the octopi community!"
But Saturday at 2:00 it was. So we drove to the fish market. Me, Kayla, Robbie, and the three observers Lydia, Jean, and Daisy. We walked in and I said to myself "Ok, don't name them, don't look at them, just do it." But I accidentally looked at the fish market lady at the precise moment that she decided to cut the brains out of not one but TWO octopi although I told her that one octopus was way more than enough octopus for me.
Alas, we walked away with our squiggly squirmy octopi (whom I couldn't help but name Steve and Eric), and the time had come. I had to eat the octopus. Have I mentioned yet that I'm a vegetarian? I'm a vegetarian. Anyway, I stared at it's moving tentacles that contained, in very basic scientific terms, brains (neurons and neural axons, it counts) and I just ate it. And I could feel it squiggle in my mouth a little bit. And I was so sad that I was eating my very favorite animal. But I did it.
And then I asked it for forgiveness and for it not to send its friends out to get me in my sleep because for all I know, octopi have telepathic powers. Maybe they hold grudges, maybe this particular octopus was part of the octopi mafia. I just don't know. There's just so much that science doesn't yet understand! I didn't want to take any risks.
So the moral of the story is if you ever want to get me out when playing 'Never Have I Ever' you can now say "Never have I ever eaten a live octopus" and I'll be out...
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
I believe in Joe
We were driving back to Connecticut from Pittsburgh after a grueling weekend of visiting probably about the twentieth college along the East Coast and Midwest. I was so sick of looking at colleges, going on tours, and being less than impressed at every single one. While driving back, my mother saw a sign for Penn State. She asked if I wanted to swing by on our way home. I had a feeling that she was becoming increasingly agitated with my unenthusiastic reactions to each school after visiting them and just wanted me to pick one already. So I agreed to the swing by.
I can't put into words how I felt after just stepping onto the Penn State campus amidst the call and responses of "We Are!" and "Penn State." The campus tour, being the longest one by far of any of the other schools I visited (3 hrs), was an experience I'll never forget. It was incredible, and I was in love. I only applied to two schools, being an out-of-stater, it's really hard to get into Penn State, so I applied to one school as a back up in case I didn't get into Penn State. Just as I'll never forget the campus tour, I'll never forget receiving my acceptance letter. And I'm sure my mother remembers how excited I was. Given that I was a moody teenager at the time, very few things made me feel excited to the point that I would verbally express them, so this was certainly a memorable moment for those around me.
I could go on to talk about how Penn State changed my life on many different levels, and more than that, Penn State lead me to State College, a place which to me is my home. I've never loved a place so much. But I want to talk about football.
When I told my dad that I was going to Penn State, he freaked out. Apparently, my father was and is a huge JoPa fan and has been "since 1968!" He's followed his career since he was a kid. He never really talked about college football with me as a kid or teen because, why would he? Needless to say, my dad was so excited that I was going to Penn State and from then on, I never heard the end of his love for JoPa and why he is so great.
My first day at Penn State, after meeting my roommate Alex, a huge Penn State fan, we walked to the football stadium and decided we would go to the football games together. More than that, because I'm usually up for anything, she convinced me to go to Paternoville with her the following weekend.
I didn't know what it was at the time, but Paternoville became a very significant part of my Penn State career. From my very first Paternoville the first weekend I was at Penn State until my very last semester, I can count on one hand the amount of times I DIDN'T camp out for days before a football game. Some of the most memorable Paternoville camp-outs being the week long camp-outs at the end of October. I would be frozen to the core, exhausted, unable to sleep because of the cold, my only source of warmth ever being the few short hours I left my tent to go to class, but what kept me going was the intense pride and joy I felt standing in the front row of the student section in the stadium ferociously cheering on my team and occasionally catching a glimpse at JoPa on the sideline.
Penn State has given me so much. And Joe Paterno has given me a hero, someone to believe in and look up to. I always will look up to JoPa. I admire him, I think he is an incredible person who did incredible things for my Alma Mater. Nothing will ever change that.
I could go into how I think that it's a sick world when the media, given a horrible story, instead of focusing on the villian or villains of the case, instead put all of their focus on a celebrity, bystander, and in essence, a scapegoat. That just tells me that something about the real story is not being told. Our focus has been shifted away from the people who committed the crime. And no one is questioning this?
It's a mad world, and I don't understand it. I have strong feelings about the events have pasted at Penn State, but I didn't intend for this post to become a rant. So I'll just say this. In this crazy mixed-up world where blame is displaced, focus is shifted, and the media controls all of what we are told and lead to believe, there are incredible individuals who stand out. They are few and far between, but they are there and they are good, well-intentioned, and inspiring. Joe Paterno is without a doubt one of those people. And I think it is a complete and utter shame if people don't see that or no longer see that due to biased media attention (where's the morality in that?)
I don't believe in a lot of things, but I believe in Joe. For me, JoPa is Penn State. Nothing can tarnish that for me, because I know what's right and good. And that's Joe Paterno.
We are, Penn State.
I can't put into words how I felt after just stepping onto the Penn State campus amidst the call and responses of "We Are!" and "Penn State." The campus tour, being the longest one by far of any of the other schools I visited (3 hrs), was an experience I'll never forget. It was incredible, and I was in love. I only applied to two schools, being an out-of-stater, it's really hard to get into Penn State, so I applied to one school as a back up in case I didn't get into Penn State. Just as I'll never forget the campus tour, I'll never forget receiving my acceptance letter. And I'm sure my mother remembers how excited I was. Given that I was a moody teenager at the time, very few things made me feel excited to the point that I would verbally express them, so this was certainly a memorable moment for those around me.
I could go on to talk about how Penn State changed my life on many different levels, and more than that, Penn State lead me to State College, a place which to me is my home. I've never loved a place so much. But I want to talk about football.
When I told my dad that I was going to Penn State, he freaked out. Apparently, my father was and is a huge JoPa fan and has been "since 1968!" He's followed his career since he was a kid. He never really talked about college football with me as a kid or teen because, why would he? Needless to say, my dad was so excited that I was going to Penn State and from then on, I never heard the end of his love for JoPa and why he is so great.
My first day at Penn State, after meeting my roommate Alex, a huge Penn State fan, we walked to the football stadium and decided we would go to the football games together. More than that, because I'm usually up for anything, she convinced me to go to Paternoville with her the following weekend.
I didn't know what it was at the time, but Paternoville became a very significant part of my Penn State career. From my very first Paternoville the first weekend I was at Penn State until my very last semester, I can count on one hand the amount of times I DIDN'T camp out for days before a football game. Some of the most memorable Paternoville camp-outs being the week long camp-outs at the end of October. I would be frozen to the core, exhausted, unable to sleep because of the cold, my only source of warmth ever being the few short hours I left my tent to go to class, but what kept me going was the intense pride and joy I felt standing in the front row of the student section in the stadium ferociously cheering on my team and occasionally catching a glimpse at JoPa on the sideline.
Penn State has given me so much. And Joe Paterno has given me a hero, someone to believe in and look up to. I always will look up to JoPa. I admire him, I think he is an incredible person who did incredible things for my Alma Mater. Nothing will ever change that.
I could go into how I think that it's a sick world when the media, given a horrible story, instead of focusing on the villian or villains of the case, instead put all of their focus on a celebrity, bystander, and in essence, a scapegoat. That just tells me that something about the real story is not being told. Our focus has been shifted away from the people who committed the crime. And no one is questioning this?
It's a mad world, and I don't understand it. I have strong feelings about the events have pasted at Penn State, but I didn't intend for this post to become a rant. So I'll just say this. In this crazy mixed-up world where blame is displaced, focus is shifted, and the media controls all of what we are told and lead to believe, there are incredible individuals who stand out. They are few and far between, but they are there and they are good, well-intentioned, and inspiring. Joe Paterno is without a doubt one of those people. And I think it is a complete and utter shame if people don't see that or no longer see that due to biased media attention (where's the morality in that?)
I don't believe in a lot of things, but I believe in Joe. For me, JoPa is Penn State. Nothing can tarnish that for me, because I know what's right and good. And that's Joe Paterno.
We are, Penn State.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Broken Bottle of Beer
Last night, I decided to get a beer at Miller Time (the bar across from my apartment). I figured, I know enough Korean to order a beer. I can say 'I like beer" and "one beer please" what else do I need to know? So I went out and did just that. As I was sitting drinking my beer and watching Korean music videos thinking to myself how cool it's going to be when I go back to America and can say things like "I wounded my leg...I was in Korea" like an old veteran would (is that offensive?), I was approached by two Korean dudes. Every guy in Korea is a dude, these are not real men (THAT is offensive).
Anyway, they start talking to me and they don't know any English. So we're trying to communicate but our conversation is going something like this: "Hi! Uhhhh.....gaahhh...ummm.....uhhh...ahhhh" to my "I'm sorry, meinhamnida, I don't know much Korean." However, through what was basically charades, I figured out they wanted me to go with them to the singing room. Since I had nothing better going on and I knew the singing room was close by, I went along.
We went up the elevator to meet two of their friends, a couple, who were in the singing room. They saw I was American (or white at least) and they ordered Spaghetti for me. I tried really hard not to be offended by this especially because this was after I told them how much I loved Korean food. Then, after I used my chopsticks to eat a portion of the spaghetti, they called the waiter and got me a fork. This was after I said no to the fork multiple times IN KOREAN. But they were trying to be polite I guess.
It was soon afterward, when the two guys I met started spilling their drinks everywhere and knocking over, thus breaking, a bunch of glasses, that I realized how drunk these guys were. This was when I realized I really need to learn the Korean word for 'drunk.'
So the one guy starts looking a little sickly, not wanting to get thrown up on, I went to the bathroom. This is when I realized I need to learn the Korean word for 'bathroom.' Not because, there aren't signs, but because the guys thought I was leaving and got upset. So the one guy followed me and waited outside the bathroom.
I went back to the singing room and the one guy left. Then the other couple started to leave which would have left me with the really really drunk guy. So I was all PEACE OUT! And I started to leave and then the one guy started yelling at the drunk guy to get ready to leave. The drunk guy spilled his beer on the guy. The other guy took an unopened beer bottle and smashed it on the floor (which the Korean dudes do often**) and that's when I bolted out of the room. I started hitting the elevator button (how are there NO stairs?!? That's a fire hazard). The elevator was taking FOREVER so I hid in the corner until it came, then I jumped in and hit the close door button. I just didn't want them to follow me and convince me to stay and hang out. "Umm, yeah, you Korean dudes are crazy, I'm good thanks."
I want to stress that I was not in a bad situation at all, I didn't feel threatened, it was a situation that I could have, at any point, gotten myself out of. (The previous sentence is written for my mother). Korean dudes are not scary or intimidating, they're just weird.
**My first week in Korea, my two roommates took me to a local bar. We're sitting there drinking our beer when these drunk Ageshis (old Korean dudes) start chucking full bottles of beer at the bar and they are smashing everywhere. The people working did seem to care. They didn't attempt to stop the throwing of beer bottles. They did not seem concerned. I can't explain this phenomenon.
Anyway, they start talking to me and they don't know any English. So we're trying to communicate but our conversation is going something like this: "Hi! Uhhhh.....gaahhh...ummm.....uhhh...ahhhh" to my "I'm sorry, meinhamnida, I don't know much Korean." However, through what was basically charades, I figured out they wanted me to go with them to the singing room. Since I had nothing better going on and I knew the singing room was close by, I went along.
We went up the elevator to meet two of their friends, a couple, who were in the singing room. They saw I was American (or white at least) and they ordered Spaghetti for me. I tried really hard not to be offended by this especially because this was after I told them how much I loved Korean food. Then, after I used my chopsticks to eat a portion of the spaghetti, they called the waiter and got me a fork. This was after I said no to the fork multiple times IN KOREAN. But they were trying to be polite I guess.
It was soon afterward, when the two guys I met started spilling their drinks everywhere and knocking over, thus breaking, a bunch of glasses, that I realized how drunk these guys were. This was when I realized I really need to learn the Korean word for 'drunk.'
So the one guy starts looking a little sickly, not wanting to get thrown up on, I went to the bathroom. This is when I realized I need to learn the Korean word for 'bathroom.' Not because, there aren't signs, but because the guys thought I was leaving and got upset. So the one guy followed me and waited outside the bathroom.
I went back to the singing room and the one guy left. Then the other couple started to leave which would have left me with the really really drunk guy. So I was all PEACE OUT! And I started to leave and then the one guy started yelling at the drunk guy to get ready to leave. The drunk guy spilled his beer on the guy. The other guy took an unopened beer bottle and smashed it on the floor (which the Korean dudes do often**) and that's when I bolted out of the room. I started hitting the elevator button (how are there NO stairs?!? That's a fire hazard). The elevator was taking FOREVER so I hid in the corner until it came, then I jumped in and hit the close door button. I just didn't want them to follow me and convince me to stay and hang out. "Umm, yeah, you Korean dudes are crazy, I'm good thanks."
I want to stress that I was not in a bad situation at all, I didn't feel threatened, it was a situation that I could have, at any point, gotten myself out of. (The previous sentence is written for my mother). Korean dudes are not scary or intimidating, they're just weird.
**My first week in Korea, my two roommates took me to a local bar. We're sitting there drinking our beer when these drunk Ageshis (old Korean dudes) start chucking full bottles of beer at the bar and they are smashing everywhere. The people working did seem to care. They didn't attempt to stop the throwing of beer bottles. They did not seem concerned. I can't explain this phenomenon.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Halloween Day
As you would assume, there in no Halloween in Korean. However, as I teach at an English school, my boss thinks it's important in learning English for the kids to learn about western cultures. Needless to say, we got to dress up for work and give the kids candy and have Halloween parties.
I decided to be Winnifred Sanderson despite the fact that no one would understand the pop culture reference. As I (finally) had bright red hair on Halloween, I went for it.
My boss asked me if I had any fun Halloween activities planned for the kids. I kinda joked that I wanted to teach them the "Trick or treat, smell my feet" song, thinking she would shrug off the suggestion. But she LOVED the song and decided that every teacher at the school had to teach the song to all of their classes. So now, a total of 400 Korean children from this day forward on Halloween will sing "Trick-or-treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat, if you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down your underwear."
Go me.
Once I learned that a lot of my students (especially the older ones) aspire to work for the U.N., I have started to teach them slang terms without telling them it's slang. I'm hoping they'll use the terms in perhaps, a job interview for a U.N. position or something. Should be hilarious.
Or maybe they'll walk in singing the trick-or-treat song...
I decided to be Winnifred Sanderson despite the fact that no one would understand the pop culture reference. As I (finally) had bright red hair on Halloween, I went for it.
My boss asked me if I had any fun Halloween activities planned for the kids. I kinda joked that I wanted to teach them the "Trick or treat, smell my feet" song, thinking she would shrug off the suggestion. But she LOVED the song and decided that every teacher at the school had to teach the song to all of their classes. So now, a total of 400 Korean children from this day forward on Halloween will sing "Trick-or-treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat, if you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down your underwear."
Go me.
Once I learned that a lot of my students (especially the older ones) aspire to work for the U.N., I have started to teach them slang terms without telling them it's slang. I'm hoping they'll use the terms in perhaps, a job interview for a U.N. position or something. Should be hilarious.
Or maybe they'll walk in singing the trick-or-treat song...
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