I borrowed a Korean name and password from the G.O.A.L. office so I could see the episode of “I miss that person,” (available on-line but only to those with Korean ID numbers) but I really didn’t care about how I looked or sounded anymore.  (I spoke too slowly for the translator’s benefit and sound near dead!  As I suspected, I was too focused on trying to stick to the outline questions, instead of just answering naturally. Oh well)  I just wanted to get to the portion where the phone-in neighbor tells us my father’s name.  I just wanted to hear what my family name was.  My borrowed internet connection crapped out on me.  Will have to try again.

And then today I hear they have spoken to a woman who says she is my Aunt.  Strange to me is my own reaction to finding out there may have been contact with blood relatives.  Was I excited about the possible eventuality of meeting them?  No.  Well, maybe.  Apprehensive more like.  All I could think was – What’s my name?

The real name thing is really interesting to me.  I can’t wait to find out what that is/was.  I wonder if I still exist on some Hojuk somewhere.  Maybe I will change my name back to it when I find out what it is.  I was ACTUALLY going to name myself unknown out of protest regarding having ones identity stripped from them, but then I decided to come move here and search for my history instead.  I have had so many names over the years and none of them felt like me.  This identity thing is so huge a person has to live in denial just to get through the day to day reminders of “this does not compute.”  Yet still I balk.  Crisis are things that happen to other people, not to me…This kind of self talk is how we survive, I am sure, but the cold truth is also there at every turn.

The other thing is, I have just lately – in this past three weeks here in Korea – managed to get a sense in my own head of what I look like.  I know that sounds totally strange and ridiculous, but before when I thought of myself, I could not picture what I looked like.  I’m not sure if it’s because I’m putting on some makeup every morning and forced to look in a mirror, (had to do that when I was at beauty school and this didn’t happen) or because I am seeing so many other Asian faces.

I am glad I came here if only for the above.  I alternate from total culture shock and horror to this feeling of calm.  But this feeling of calm is new, so I think it outshadows the cultural discomfort, and hopefully that will diminish over time.

Got an email from KBS to call them, which I did today.  Sounds like they’ve spoken with someone who says she’s my Aunt!  They are still investigating, and I haven’t heard any details, but will contact me again.

The teachers in my half of the teacher’s room took me out to dinner tonight.  It was really awesome.  We had sashimi and all kinds of great Korean food, and something I’m in love with – ar bop.  It’s like bi bim bop, only it’s made with rice, seaweed, and fish roe.  Along with the oiled and crunchy edges from being cooked in a crock, it’s this warm delicate bowl of lightly salted goodness….Mmmmm.  Anyway, it was really nice to see the teachers outside of school.  They humored me and played the name game so I could try and learn their names.  Of course I cracked under pressure when there were nine before me to remember, but I HAVE retained some of their names.  A few bottles of soju went around, but we called it quits fairly early.  That meant no noribang.  (yayy!)  One man, Soon Chim (sp?) paid for all 14 of us to eat.  In that small group, there is even a poet, a novelist, and a protesting political activist.  Everyone gave him a round of applause.  I can’t imagine one person taking on that kind of burden.  I couldn’t thank him enough.  Wonder when it will be my turn?

Must go to bed.  Tired but happy.

Just spent THREE HOURS trying to steal a decent internet connection.  With nothing to do but flip through 80 channels of bad Korean tv while I search, search, search, for a working connection.

Well actually Korean t.v. is REALLY GOOD at doing documentaries on some of the many esoteric tribes and cultures, traveling, wildlife, etc.  around the world and especially all over Asia.  Too bad I can’t understand half of it.  We also get a lot of Chinese and Japanese period dramas, which are subtitled into Korean.  The pan-Asian baseball finals are right now, and I guess Korea is head to head with Japan.  It’s actually a breath of fresh air from the home shopping networks, bad comedies, never-ending news, soap operas, the worst selection of American movies, the constant parade of Korean bimbos dolls, and the all night long at-the-chalkboard-cramming classes.  But the documentaries are first rate, the images from the historical documentaries are totally engrossing, and I am absolutely in love with the old movies.

Tried to get coordinated for a bank account for a week now, and I’m totally broke!

And I keep asking EVERYONE how to get reimbursed for the airfare and nobody will tell me!

Tried to get a phone for a week now as well.  ARGH!!!!

.

Thing is, to get any of these services you need an alien registration card, which I’ve had since Wednesday.

For some reason, the only person that can help me is my co-teacher, and she is absolutely swamped with duties and our schedules rarely coincide. Not blaming her at all, but I also don’t understand why anyone else can’t help me instead of her.  Today I went to the office and told them a list of all the loose end problems I have.  I told them I can go to the bank on my own now, if they can just find a way to give me the details so I can get direct deposit of my paycheck, etc. etc. etc.

Went to get a phone with my co-teacher, and they needed my bank account number, which didn’t exist, so she went home and I went from phone store to phone store to phone store searching for ONE that could speak enough English to explain their plans so I don’t sign away my first born child…

There are ten billion phone stores here.  At the last subway stop commercial district, there were about EIGHT of them.  All about four storefronts away from each other.  Some right next to each other.  There are, as near as I can tell, only three telephone companies and many of the stores sell plans for two of them.  I asked the co-teacher, why so many?  Couldn’t tell me.  Are they selling the same phones?  Yes.

And my LAN line doesn’t work at my computer, so I can’t print out my handouts, and any internet research I do at school is ALSO from a stolen wireless connection.   Thank god I brought my flash drive, so I have to go bother other teachers trying to do their lesson plans to print for me.  (today I printed out 200 copies, which is only 5 classes worth – and there doesn’t seem to be any paper anywhere.  I still have 360 more copies to go)  Then, when I go to the classrooms, I can’t work the A/V equipment because all the instructions are in Hangul, and I’ve only had a two second lesson in its use, because I’ve never had any dedicated time for training and there are never any unoccupied classes.   Try programming a monitor in a totally foreign language…

With jealousy I listened to my fellow English teachers working in the public schools talking about their ENGLISH ZONES.  That’s right – ENGLISH ZONES.  They get:  their own classrooms with attached office.  The desks are not forced into tight little rows, but in groups.  They have room to move so they can do activities.  Their computers and A/V are in English and work seamlessly together.

Me, I have to pray I can steal a connection, while I try not to curse.  I had to buy external speakers on my own so the kids could hear what I’m playing, since I can’t get the A/V equipment to work.  I have to hold my laptop over my head so 40 students can see the tiny screen, and the (insert adjective here) boys won’t get out of their desks to get closer to the screen.  40 students is just sick and wrong.  The class size in Thailand was 25, and THAT was barely manageable to do interactive, communicative games and dialogs with…

For a glimpse of my lessons, you can go to:

http://kenglish.wordpress.com/

For this last lesson, I talked about the roots and genesis of Soul music, it’s evolution, the impact of Sesame Street, how rhyming sounds and English spelling often differ, how English phonics has had to incorporate influences from other countries, how it differs from Korean phonics, which is pretty logical and pure, and why listening and connecting when the spelling doesn’t match what we hear is the only way we can learn where the exceptions are.  I have the kids brainstorm lists of rhyming words and write sentences incorporating the words, which always provides opportunities for common pronunciation and grammar blunders to look out for.

I really like teaching for the most part – except one class of particularly smart-alec boys, lead by this one boy who mocks me because he thinks he can get away with playing the innocent “I was just repeating what she said” thing.  He’s always the first to say hello, the loudest to speak, the most involved yet not actually participating.  He’s really smart and cute and I want to get all corporal punishment on him.  Today I said what he was doing was DISRESPECTFUL and the rest of the class kind of gasped…we are kind of screwed her as far as how much power we wield, as our classes are not graded, there are no tests or homework allowed, and so the kids know this is cake for them.  The kids are totally wiped out from studying until 10 pm everynight.  One class today I made four kids stand up all class for falling asleep.  As much sympathy as I have for them, they can’t hear or speak when they are sleeping.  In an American class a teacher might have to confiscate games, etc.  In a Korean class, I have to yell at a kid to stop studying his English flashcards for another class.  One of the students asked me if he can use his English translator in class…

On the opposite side of the spectrum are two students who’ve taken me aside asking questions about school in America.  I think I’ll actually offer the Study Abroad Survival Course I had planned.  (I have to teach two ninety minute after school classes each week)  Twice as much work as a normal class, but then again, it will be a really small class size.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but several teachers have told me about missing their children, who are studying in the U.S.  I assumed their children were in college, but no.  They’re in elementary school and middle school.  One Korean adoptee who has taught English for several years says that they send their children abroad so they can get better jobs here in Korea when they return.  Makes sense – but – he pointed out that they don’t go to the U.S. to absorb our culture because they have to return to the corporate Korean culture.  They do learn English, but they don’t become worldly, choosing to remain sheltered in the Korean way.  Those that do become worldly don’t fare so well here.  Nor do they want to come back.  Because life here is stressful and full of obligations.  Obligations they fall apart if separated from.

Teaching is actually up my alley, apart from the keeping up the good humor, which the boys sorely test me on.  It allows me to do research and try and appeal to the kids intellect, and I try to do it in a creative manner.  I also really had fun, actually the most enjoyable time of all, teaching the teachers.  Because they’re really interested, the group is small, and they have adult humor.  I think I’d like to just switch to adults all the time.  But with three lessons to plan each week, all radically different, (Freshman Conversation – which includes all three levels of aptitude, Basic Conversation for the teachers, and now this Study Abroad Survival Skills class) I find myself scrambling to pull it together at the last minute.  Not having a reliable internet connection doesn’t help any.  Once Korean lessons begin, I can imagine myself not having any life at all…

As for Korean classes, It will be another six weeks before I get a viable paycheck.  After that, the translator from KBS is offering me tutoring at the lower end of the pay scale so she can develop a method to teach Korean (she teaches English right now) to adoptees.  So I will go to her in six weeks, twice a week, until the next term at Sookmyung (they don’t pronounce the “k” for some reason) in June.  Hopefully I can win the half off scholarship from the G.O.A.L. office.  It’s definitely going to be bread and water for the next year or two.

Tomorrow, all the teachers in my half of the teacher’s office are taking me out to sushi and noribang.  They told me to think of a song and practice it.  (yeah, RIGHT!)  So tomorrow, after teaching three classes, then the teachers (and my boss) I run to the subway, go to the next station over, try to open a bank account for myself, try to purchase a phone by myself (this is really complicated and hardly anyone speaks English) then run back to school and then go get fed and soju’d by the teachers and forced to sing.  I’m happy they finally got it together to do something welcoming, but I think it might take two bottles of soju to get me through that!

KBS emailed and they said they have news.  Please call. But I don’t have a phone or time to talk.  I asked for an email report and nothing.  Really need that damn phone.  Can’t get the phone without the bank account.  Can’t get the bank account with out the school’s direct deposit info.  Can’t finish my lesson plan for the teachers without the internet.  Can’t get the internet without a bank account.  Can’t…

Oh.  Wait.  I’ve got internet now!  Must leave you all and put together the lesson plan.  Last week the teachers were wondering what politically correct words were…holy crap…they’re asking a native English teacher from SEATTLE…they are going to be soooo sorry they asked!

muahahahaha!!!

I can’t find any butter knives for sale at Emart, so I have to use my spoon…

I can’t find anywhere else to shop except Emart.  Emart is really expensive.  WHERE IS THE VALUE VILLAGE???

I went to buy an umbrella, because it’s started raining, and I walk 20 minutes to school.  I saw some cute umbrellas in a stand at the Emart beauty salon, all packaged up in long matching umbrella length bags, so I went in and was looking at them so I could buy one.  Only then I noticed they were damp.  And then I noticed women looking at me strangely.  I put the umbrellas down quickly and left.  Oops!  As I was leaving Emart, I noticed a special dispenser of long decorated bags, specifically so people who have umbrellas don’t drip water all through the store…I’m glad nobody called security on the potential umbrella pilferer.  It just looked like packaging to me, honest!

I love Korean disposable pens!  They are all extra fine point, something really hard to find in the U.S.!  A medium point would be too thick to write hangul without it looking like kindergarten sized letters. Yayy!

I can’t find sugar-free anything.

Most of the milk is homogenized and super rich and yummy.   I’m buying lactose-free here because it’s no more expensive than regular milk.  But DHA milk for extra brain power or melatonin milk for sleeping is super expensive.  I never drink milk much in the states, but here I am eating cereal in the mornings because I’m in too much of a hurry for a proper breakfast.  I’m also eating a lot of toast.  I buy banchan and  mean to eat it with rice or the frozen mandu or meat or fish that I’ve bought, but mostly I just snack on banchan.  I’m dying for Korean potato salad and can’t find any anywhere.

I think I’ve injested more salt here in three weeks than I have in an entire year in the U.S.

I keep forgetting to buy salt and pepper.  Sometimes I make soft-boiled eggs, and it’s pretty bland.

It took me an hour to figure out what kind of instant coffee sticks to buy, since I can’t read the ingredients.

I need a Korean companion to show me what to do.

So we are sitting on the set at the KBS tv studio, waiting for the show to begin and I ask Eun-Seong, my interpreter, her opinion on whether or not revealing I was abused would negatively affect my parents from coming forward.  She tells me she’s been translating for KBS for this family search for three years and about fifty adoptees, and that over half of them had difficult lives.  If I want to just leave it as a difficult life or mention abuse, it is up to me.  But “the most important thing is your face.”  It is actually the identifying marks, dates, and especially recognition from the photos which compel people to come forward.  If it were her, the mention of abuse would want her to come forward even more.

Two days before they had sent me an email list of questions to answer in lieu of a telephone interview, since my phone wasn’t always working, and which I was supposed to get to them before day’s end.  But my lack of reliable internet connection, school commitments, and further administrative loose ends took up most of the evening.  And then I wrote and re-wrote and wrote again what I wanted to say on air, staying up until about 2 am.  I set the alarm for 6:30 in hopes of sending it before the family researcher woke up – but she beat me by about ten minutes.  “OH MY GOD – where is the interview?  I have to translate it and hand it in this morning!” But further talks with her indicated that everything was okay.

So of course on the day of the show, I arrive ten minutes late.  Had a few minor getting ready disasters, and left the house with an hour for travel.  It seemed like enough time, but never having been on this subway line before, I was totally dismayed at how long the travel distance was between stops in one portion of the journey and also how slow the train was going during these portions.  Fortunately, I still had my phone and was able to call the G.O.A.L. coordinator.  I also got a few calls from the search researcher wondering when I was going to get there.

Nobody seemed upset, as they were going over the other guest’s portions.  My interpreter introduced herself, explained how the show operated, and what we were supposed to do.  Most important was to NOT look at the people asking me questions and to only stare ahead at the camera.  (much harder to do than you’d think) The interpreter wanted us to practice, but I didn’t really want to do this – it’s just a weird feeling to verbalize your personal answers out loud multiple times.  It’s like I own those feelings, but they feel less important every time they are verbalized?  (I think this is the value of psychological counseling, actually.  The more you talk about your problems, the more they are diminished.  But if there’s something you WANT to hold onto, then talking about it too much can also diminish that.  I only wanted to hold onto it long enough for it to feel fresh when I was asked, though)  Then, the producer went over the questions and a mock-up of the answers I’d given in my emailed interview with the live translation.  Yeah, I got a little weepy.  There was tissue handy.  After the mock questioning, we went into the studio and walked through the positioning and schedule of the show. My interpreter tells me that many many adoptees are in line to get on this show, but the producer is captured by my story and wanted to help me and moved me to the front and that I am very lucky.

When it was my turn to go on, I wasn’t as confident as I’d wanted to be, but I can see how one could get used to being in front of a camera – it’s something you have to always be aware of.  I can imagine its limitations can become second nature, and the relationship with it becoming more nuanced and intimate.  BUT not for a layperson guest on a show exploiting human drama and emotion.  Despite the dry run-through of the questions, they were still awkwardly phrased – especially the first question, so the interpreter and I even had to develop a strategy on how to answer it.  Similar problems with some of the other questions.  Also, during the Q&A there were some questions they skipped and some of the points I was supposed to cover would have to be shoe-horned in elsewhere.  I did okay, but the last question – the most important question – my big opportunity to say something welcoming to my family – I flubbed.  My mind just went blank and I was finished.  It’s really too bad, as in my written responses there were some really profound sound bytes I had put in, and I missed them all.  I’m especially mad at myself that I wasn’t able to insert my criticism of the adoption agencies, and that I had the opportunity but blew it…

About twenty minutes into the show, there is a little activity off set and my interpreter tells me there is a phone call for me.  I’m very confused because what am I supposed to do?  Get up and leave the set in the middle of filming?  But then the MC’s are looking at me and I realize what’s going on and they are broadcasting the voice on the other end of the line.  The interpretation is pretty incredible.  It’s kind of hard to soak in really, so I’m sure I looked pretty confused.  The interpretation came in to me something like this:

Basically, the caller is a man who used to live in Wonju but now lives in the next province.  He used to be a neighbor of my father.  He is really convinced he knows who I am, because the time frame is right, and I look just like my father.  (!!!  I LOOK like somebody!)  He says the name of who he thinks is my father too!  (And it is a TOTALLY different last name)  The story goes:  My father and mother were not happy together.  My mother left him, leaving me behind.  My grandmother was very very angry.  VERY angry.  As a result, my grandmother took me to a train station and left me there.

Wow.  Television is truly miraculous!

After the show, the MC’s and the producer come up and the producer translates that they all hope I find my family and maybe they will see me again.  The translator tells me I am very lucky, it’s not often that somebody calls in right away with something so targeted.  She feels there is a good possibility the man is correct about my father’s identity, since he had so many details about the place, the time, and so much inside information about the family’s story.

The G.O.A.L. people tell me KBS will talk more with the neighbor who called in, investigate the whereabouts of my father and any other info they can on my family, who will contact G.O.A.L., and get back in touch with me.  I am told KBS is very good at investigating these things, as the big prize for them is getting to air the tearful reunions.

Of course, all this opens up a whole new pandora’s box.  If this caller is correct – Was this abandonment by my grandmother something my father also wanted?  Where did my mother end up?  Why did she abandon me? What was my name?  What the hell is that scar I have from?  What were their circumstances? Did I have any siblings?  How are they doing?  Where are they now?

You know, I’d envisioned being abandoned by economic hardship, but not this scenario.  It still makes me angry at the adoption industry.  What would have become of me if Korean society did not know abandoned children would be taken to orphanages, if there was not that assurance and possibility?  Maybe I would have been beaten daily by my resentful grandmother.  Or maybe my mother would have come back to claim me.  Whatever the case, somebody would have had to have at least given me the basics and I would have stayed in my own culture and country.

I was asked many times how I am doing, and am I okay.  Yes.  I am fine.  It’s all just a bit surreal, the possibilities so endless in the story about how you came to be.  I still have much to find out.

Very bizarre, this life I’ve had.  And all the Korean adoptees shipped away…

Seems there is a meeting my co-teacher has to attend for new teachers.  Or so she tells me.  Do I have to go to this?  Nobody knows.  Someone will find out.  The meeting starts in four minutes.  I don’t know where the meeting is.

Welcome to Korea!

Would it matter if there was a room they told me to go to?  Not really, since I can’t read any of the signs.  I guess this is why the foreign teachers are always in the dark – we can’t read the memo’s, so why bother giving them to us?  My co-teacher is a home room teacher this year, so that means on top of holding my hand, she also has many other responsibilities and probably forgot to tell me about this.

The other day I arrive in class and start my lesson. Only about ten minutes later, another teacher shows up and says it is her classroom.  I show her the schedule and tell her it’s okay, I have this classroom right now.  She says okay and leaves.  I go back to the lesson.

About ten minutes later, the guy who schedules classes and this teacher come back and take me into the hall – so much for THAT lesson!  The guy explains that the other teacher is right and that it is her class.  I get out the schedule he made me and show him that it is my class, and I explain that it is already HALFWAY through my lesson…and then he apologizes and says he is sorry, but the schedule has changed.  (someone forgot to give ME the memo!  errr, tell me about it)  Oh.  OK I say, well, this period is already messed up.  Please give me the correct schedule for the day AFTER this class is over.  The other teacher still wants to teach.  I say – look, this is very disruptive to my lesson.  Can you please just let me finish this lesson?  They both agree and leave.

About five minutes later, the guy and my co-teacher drag me out of class again.  And tell me this is not my class time.  OK.  Whatever.  Meanwhile, these kids’ lesson is getting destroyed.  The mistake has already been made.  Why don’t you just let me finish the lesson?  This argument goes on and on for several minutes, and I am getting increasingly frustrated by this rigid adherence everyone has to this new schedule and how the educational goal is totally being missed and the fix is not fixing anything for this particular period.  I try to argue once again for finishing my lesson (I don’t know why, since there’s only twenty minutes of class left and the class room is in near pandemonium right now)  and my co-teacher finally says, “OK.  But you must finish early.”  WHY?  Again we go around and around “Because it’s not your class. You must finish now.”  I stand my ground and keep asking why and giving my arguments, when FINALLY the co-teacher explains that attendance has not been taken and the other teacher needs to take attendance. OHHH!  Why didn’t you say so?  No problem.

wtf.  Why not be forthcoming about that right away?  Culture Shock #2.  They obviously aren’t used to anyone asserting logic or reason and questioning of authority.  I guess a Korean teacher would have just left and found out why later.

No.  Wait.  They would have gotten the memo and had been able to read it.

So I finish the class ten minutes early.  But no teacher in sight.  Had to go find my co-teacher and tell her.  They seemed shocked that I had actually finished early as requested.