I’m a little late writing about this, but I just decided to go all Mac and it brought it all back again, so I thought I’d share.

Korea is a PC world. All the websites use windows system applications for streaming media, and all the banking uses windows system apps for their internet banking. Fortunately, I have Parallels on my Mac and can pretend to be a windows o.s. when I need to.

Despite this, I already own a Mac and can’t afford to buy a new windows-based computer. Plus, I’m a (former) designer, and graphically, the Mac just pleases my aesthetics more than a PC. And I’m not talking about the industrial design, but the fonts and the templates on all of their publishing applications. Utilizing them more than ever for my classroom presentations, I’m finding the need to go all Mac because the Mac programs integrate with each other seamlessly, whereas they aren’t as happy importing and converting from the PC world.

But I can’t.

I can’t order books, I can’t order many things, I can’t pay for tickets, I can’t…

I can’t because I don’t have a @#$%#!!! credit card.

I don’t have a credit card because I never had a credit card because I never needed one because my Visa debit card was all I ever needed.

I had the misfortune of moving to Korea right during the bank bail-outs. I also had the misfortune of having my debit card expire shortly after my move. Upon attempted renewal, I found out Chase wouldn’t issue a debit card or credit card to Korea. Because it isn’t on some list of trusted nations with stable economies. (which is really weird, because it’s more stable than the U.S. right now) I mean, I’m sending the money to the U.S. bank FIRST, so it’s U.S. money going onto a DEBIT card, so what’s the logic in that? Anyway, I’ve been relegated to using only paypal. It’s like only being able to shop in a basement clearance sale…

I can’t deposit money into paypal from my Korean bank account, because it isn’t a Korean paypal account. I can’t open a Korean paypal account, because I already have an American paypal account. I also can’t open a Korean paypal account, because I don’t have a Korean citizen ID number. And so, I must make a foreign remittance (with fees on both ends) if I want to order anything through paypal.

Of course, all the things I want to purchase, like Apple’s Mobile Me service, can only be paid for with a credit card.

I tried to order a third party debit card but they won’t issue one abroad. So I ordered one and had it sent to my permanent U.S. address, and my daughter mailed it to me, but there’s no way to load it from Korea, I can only activate it on-line for bank transfer from my Chase account, and the on-line site has me locked out. I’ve emailed and called the debit card company multiple times with no answer.

I tried to open other bank accounts and was also faced with the Korea-isn’t-a-trusted-nation line. When I explained my situation to Wells Fargo, the good folks there were willing to let me try and see how far up the chain of command it went, but my driver’s license expiration date was required and that – that is locked up in the Ansan driver’s licensing office where I had to forfeit it in exchange for my Korean driver’s license.

Here in CheongPyeong, there is only one bank, Nonghyup. I was told that if I wanted to make foreign remittances, I would have to go to another town and open a Nonghyup account there, as this branch wouldn’t allow it. There simply isn’t a large enough window for me to get to a neighboring city’s Nonghyup bank, as it must be between my classes and the banks close at 5pm here. My foreign remittance account is with Kookmin Bank (KB) and the only way I can get to it is if I am in Seoul. So, to send money to my U.S. Chase account, I have to send money to my KB account, and then travel to Seoul to a KB atm (thank God they have atm remittances) in order to send money to the U.S.

It is possible to obtain a Korean credit card through Samsung, which operates on a payment plan where you can’t carry debt, which makes sense for us foreigners since some bail and are never to be seen again. However, the credit limits are very low, and these Korean credit cards only work within Korea, and I can’t see that there’s anything I’d want to purchase with one anyway.

This is just one example of how living here is like being country-less/rejected by two countries. The YouTube is another. I can post videos because I have a U.S. account, but because the Korean internet reads my i.p. address as coming out of Korea, I can’t comment on anyone’s videos like I can in the U.S. I can’t comment on any major sites anywhere, as a matter of fact. Other websites I go to deny me access because of the “real names” law and want me to fill in my Korean citizen number, which I can’t, because I’m not a Korean citizen. Search engines and other popular sites read my i.p. address and often change from English to Korean…and it’s really hard to find “take me back to the English site” when it’s written in a foreign language.

In other strange foreign experiences, nobody here leaves messages on phones. Voice messages exist, but nobody uses them. And I’m not sure if there is an outgoing message you record or not. Instead, people call. And if you don’t answer, they don’t leave a text message. They just get mad and ask you, “why didn’t you answer my call?” So if you think talking on the cell phone while in mixed company is rude in America, it’s kind of considered more rude to ignore your phone call here. And if someone (anyone) calls, you’re supposed to call them right back. Which is really crazy-making because spam phone calls abound in Korea, whereas I never got spam phone calls in America.

It’s also common for people to cover their mouths while talking on the phone. I’ve polled many Koreans on why they do this, and gotten mixed results: some say they cover their mouths so their talking is not so loud as to disturb everyone around them, and others say they cover their mouths because the ambient noise is too loud and drowns out their talking. But in both cases, there is a HAND between the mouth and the hand-set, so this logic escapes me, and often the person ends up speaking louder through the hand…

Korean phones are amazing, btw. You can shop, play games, have video calls, do your banking, upload photos, etc. all on the most basic phones, and on some phones you can also watch t.v. Having the latest most fashionable phone is a really big status symbol here. But most of us foreigners, because we’re illiterate, just limp by on calling and texting. I think foreigners, too, don’t want to spend the money on all these whistles and bells. Korean phone bills must be a huge part of their monthly budget…

The only other thing I can think of right now is doors and lights. I’ve gotten so used to automated doors, that I walked INTO a door the other day, expecting it to open for me! I had to laugh on the train to Seoul as the trains are old and even the Koreans expect to have to slide the doors open by hand. I watched one after another take several tries before realizing there was a button to press for the door to open electronically. Even after a year here, I still panic when I leave my house and I do a mental check for the key and remember, oh yeah, there IS no key. Similarly, many buildings have automatic sensors on their lights and you get used to never flipping light switches.

But the money thing – it’s driving me crazy. As soon as I get back home, I’m opening a Wells Fargo account so I can have access to what American plastic can purchase again. And it’s not just me wanting to buy, buy, buy. It’s not being able to pay for tax services, or web hosting, or financial aid, or criminal background checks, or things I NEED just to stay here in Korea so I can make money to send to America.

So, be fore-warned: DON’T come to Korea without a viable credit card, or you’ll also be ripping your hair out at crucial times like I have this past year.

Yayyy!!!!!!!!!!! It’s sooo weird living here, having some aspects of freedom of expression controlled…

from Korea Times

YouTube, the world’s largest video-sharing Web site, said Thursday it has decided not to require South Korean users to use their real names when they register, Yonhap News Agency reported.

The move marks a rejection of a South Korean government policy that requires private information for online users. South Korea is the only country in the world where Internet users are required to input their name and resident registration number before subscribing to portals and other Internet services.

The Web site’s decision will allow users to view YouTube content but without being able to post videos or comments.

However, watchers point out that South Korean users will likely be able to post videos on the site without difficulty if they set their country preference to countries other than South Korea.

YouTube launched a Korean-language version of its service in January 2008 and has since seen rapid growth in traffic to the site.

Starting from April 1, South Korea’s real name registration system applies to Web sites that attract more than 100,000 daily visitors, including YouTube.

As I was leaving for Seoul, to run the volunteer meeting for TRACK, the principal of the school stopped me because my backpack was hanging open.  Oops!  my cigarettes were hanging out in plain sight.  “Cigar?” he asked.  I turned around and put my finger to my lip and made the shhh sound.  “Our secret!”  >wink<   and then rushed off.

Now, I wonder if I’m on his fantasy girl list or his bad teacher list…I think I’m on his bad girl fantasy list.  And there it shall stay!

Last place, I went up on the roof with the men and smoked.  It made them uncomfortable, not because I was only one of two females who smoked outside of a bar, but because they felt obligated to speak English to me.  Usually it was just the typical “hello, how are you?” and then they’d either talk with another Korean or smoke as fast as they could and beat a hasty retreat.

Here in Cheong Pyeong, I’ve never been to the roof, and I don’t believe any of the teachers smoke.  Some of the building staff, do, and their room reeks of stale smoke smell.

I had the privilege of going there once before the school year began:  Kim YuNa was performing her long program at the Olympics, and our teacher orientation was put on hold as we all crowded into the room (a traditional-looking room hidden in amongst the more western building, with raised floor heating with a bathroom off to the side) to watch on his t.v.

The write-ups I’d read about the incredible pressure she was under, carrying the hopes and dreams of an entire nation on her back, were no over-estimation.  The day before, her short program was playing everywhere, and the entire country was practically at a stand-still.  I watched it from a sidewalk outside a GS-25, with a crowd of about 50 others.

So we all sat on the heated floor, watching her perform, and damn if I didn’t have tears in my eyes as she executed her routine to perfection.  The entire room was misty-eyed.  Everyone was so proud.  South Koreans know they don’t really exist on the world stage, and to be represented so well…It made me feel proud too, for them / with them.

So now I’m down to less than a pack a week.  I only smoke on the veranda, and so the apartment stays smoke-free.  Even there, I am on the look-out, as many of my students live near-by, and I can’t walk anywhere withoutu running into half a  dozen of them.

Last weekend I went and met Jong-Ae, the puppet lady in ChunCheon.  We had a lovely time, us two single ladies.  We went out to dinner and had a soup of fish and spinach.  She told me it was virility soup and that (ha ha) probably it wasn’t a good idea for single women to be drinking it if they were going home alone!  (ain’t that the truth)  After, we went and had a smoke in her car, because she is very conscientious about being seen smoking) and she told me how back in history, the king had many women.  He had a different woman each night, and how all these women had nothing to do but wait for their turn to be called to duty.  And so they smoked to fill the time.  So there is a name for women smoking, which of course I can’t remember…shim shim something…which has connotations of being a mistress attached to it.  I asked her if the women were gisaeng (Korean geisha girls) and she said no, that is a special job, not gisaeng.  Just women who were kept to service the king.

You see halmoni’s smoking a lot, and freely, in public.  But they are so old and haggard they don’t care what people think about them.

I went to the GS25 for a bowl of ramen noodles.  I am so exhausted lately, due to research for lessons and some track work, that I had slept through dinner and no restaurants were open after I woke up.  The convenience store worker struck up a conversation with me in English!  He’d been to my school and then gone to the Philippines to study English.  (kind of sad, because convenience store workers make less than $3 an hour) So we talked about the high school, and about America, and being adopted, etc.  Then I asked for some cigarettes, and he said, “but you’re a teacher!”  To which I replied, “shhh!  that’s our little secret!”  He laughed and told me he would tell all his friends.

So my cover is blown, and the principal and the convenience worker both know I’m a naughty girl.

Two weekends before I went out for dinner with the former high school teacher and a bunch of Koreans who meet regularly for “English club.”

One of the guys was in the army and told me that he loved CheongPyeong, and that it was similar to Wonju where he’d been stationed.  I told him I was born in Wonju, and he said that it was very close by.

Which got me to thinking about how Jennifer was also born in Wonju.  Which made me remember a little snippet from my conversations with the director during the SBS documentary.  It seems that abandonment of children was actually against the law at the time.  So even though I was abandoned in Wonju, I most likely wasn’t born in Wonju, as a parent wouldn’t want to leave a child anywhere they might be recognized as doing so.  Which made me think about all the tens of thousands of Korean adoptees who erroneously call their abandonment site the place of their birth.  I wonder how far my parent(s) traveled before they deposited me and Kim Sook Ja at the market in Wonju?  Hell, maybe I was born ibn CheongPyeong…

The first day of school, with the entire student body assembled for opening ceremonies, I marveled at the lack of girls.  Maybe only a quarter of the students are girls at my school.  Since it’s the only high school in CheongPyeong, I wondered if there was a lot of aborting females or infanticide during the 80’s in this region.  Later, I asked about the lack of girls, and the answer was that girls were not interested in technical schools, and that because of Korea’s open schools policy, they mostly travel to nearby towns to go to more academic high schools.  Big sigh of relief on my part.  However, with 350,000 abortions a year taking place in Korea, I wonder what the girl/boy ratio is in general.  Korea’s this strange place where pastors even advise unwed moms to get abortions, so as not to shame their families.

At a restaurant in CheongPyeong, a mother chases after three children.  Families are still larger in the country than the city.  Three children is not uncommon here, whereas you won’t find families larger than two children, for the most part, in the Seoul metro area.  Back when I was born, families of 6 were common and 10 was not unheard of.  Coming from the country, I wonder how many were in my family.

Most days, I am successful pushing adoption out of my thoughts.  But little things, especially the sight of small children, bring it back home.

Several people helpfully pointed out a spelling/listening error in my post about saying high school in Korean.  It’s supposed to be 고등 go deung not go dang. I didn’t take enough time looking at the hanguel, and was just noticing that it wasn’t go tan. The following day, I noticed it was go deung.

Armed with this new information didn’t seem to help me with the taxi driver, unfortunately.  (Although having it written out [thanks!] will the next time.) I called a taxi to my school and said, CheongPyeong godeung hakyo over and over again, and finally in frustration I handed the phone over to my co-teacher, who I swear to God it sounded the same as I was saying it, got understood instantly.  She laughed and told me I could just say go for short!

Of course, the following day, I tried only CheongPyeong go and that was unsuccessful too.  So tired of people looking at me like I’m a lunatic as I’m looking Korean and trying to speak something intelligible.

The other day, for the first time ever, I was mistaken for being Chinese.  I was trying to buy a chicken skewer and this older Korean gentleman started translating for me, unsolicited.  I heard one Korean woman asking the street vendor what country I was from, and the vendor whispered off to the side that she must be Chinese…

I wish people always thought of me as Chinese or Japanese, because they treat me much better when they think I’m a visiting tourist.

Four foreign female teachers talk about the dismal prospects of dating in Korea.  They are from four corners of the earth, four different skin tones, all attractive, and all native English speakers.  And all without prospects for relationships.

Four foreign male teachers in the same room, or any other room in Korea, have multiple prospects.  They are from all corners of the earth, all skin tones, some attractive, some who would be totally rejected in their home countries yet find themselves not wanting for company here.  Many have not only multiple prospects but take advantage of all of them.

The disparity is glaring.  And maddening.

It’s not like we’re not trying, either.  The common consensus is:  Korean men tend to have reservations about relationships with foreigners.  (this isn’t even factoring in the language barrier)  This is for at least two reasons:  1) they are accustomed to the highly restrictive and prescribed Korean dating etiquette they must employ with Korean women, and 2) what would the family think?  On top of all that, I suspect western female independence tends to get confused with being libertine, so that puts us into the negative half of the virgin/whore dichotomy.  So many will dip their feet in the pool out of a sense of adventure, but respect became a missing ingredient the second intent sprang into action.

I’m having one of those, “what just happened here?” moments after a date that went too fast.  My Migook friend has been having one of those, “when is this ever going to happen?” extended moments after her dates never evolve into something meaningful.

It just feels like dating in Korea is like taking all the most difficult aspects of dating in the west and then multiplying the difficulties times ten.  Foreign women must carry around this burden of being not-actually-viable candidates for relationships, or being relegated as only-viable-for possible flings.

For the former, that can mean endearing and sometimes unbearably never-ending sweetness and awkwardness that fatalistically will never reach fruition,  (some women experience a kind of puppy love from Korean men that borders on stalking) which can be deliciously maudlin for the Korean man but crazy-making for the foreign woman.  For the latter, that can mean a serious lack of quality in all things.   There just doesn’t seem to be any need to bother with finesse here.  A man’s energies are poured into the dating etiquette, and a woman’s needs here tend to focus on position and things and not the quality of a kiss.  Outside of those parameters, there is no interest in putting energy into alternate possibilities.  Here in Korea, sex is for taking and not giving, and even “players” could use a road map and instruction manual.

It’s definitely gender-based, and all about the dominant gender.  This could explain why there are so many Korean women willing to work outside of their culture’s rules with foreigners, and why so many Korean men can’t-make-it-compute.  Because the women want the hell out.  Hell, if I was raised here and saw what it means to be a woman in Korea, I’d be chasing after foreign men too.

So why don’t you date foreign men, you might ask?  Because I’m not a “real” Korean, so I have nothing cultural to exchange= rejected.  And the foreign men who would consider a Korean in-looks-only, are of the pitiful remainder who are unable to get anywhere with any women on either side of the ocean.

Unlike in America, where I was oblivious to connections, repelled by dating, and content to serendipitously let relationships happen to me, here — in order to remain a human — I must actively seek connections.  Here in this land where only strumpets live alone, where divorced women are viewed as selfish damaged goods, where adoptees are viewed as deficit in family values, where age is the measure of everything, and married men choose NOT to wear their wedding bands, here I must capitalize on the fraction of a fraction of a sliver left me to touch base and exist beyond the ephemera of this blog and these thoughts between my two ears and hollow eyes.

Living in Korea as a single foreign woman means living as a lone castaway on an island.  My foreign friends and I, we can make a place here, find rewards in our work (sometimes) and manage in society, (sort of) but none of us were prepared for this chastity.  The prospect of never again having meaningful romantic relationships, human touch, and affection has us all considering leaving earlier than we’d planned.