So I think I’ll start posting anything unusual/strange that I come across…

Just now, on my way to the teacher’s restrooms, I thought I heard a theramin and figured it was a movie soundtrack someone was showing to the kids, but then I saw two men practicing SAWS to traditional Korean music – a private lesson of sorts in the one assembly hall we have.

Five more resumes sent yesterday and no replies today.  (see last post for what adoptees are up against here)

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Today’s conversation with a junior in high school today covered:  thoughts about testing for university entrance exams, (he thought testing did not measure potential – but it turns out several schools have changed to a western entry model which does measure potential – but its too early to have witnessed any effect) and suicide, (he felt those that commit suicide are self-absorbed and don’t stop to think that others are also going through the same experience) I also wondered about the demise of the yangban (the elite ruling class of old) which I theorized as never having really lost power and I learned that the chaebal ( dynastic, family-run corporations) were not the remnants of the ruling class but were instead turn-coats whose allegiance followed the money, whoever was holding it. (great business ethics model) I wrapped up with asking him whether it was true that the diminishing respect afforded the elderly had to do with western exposure, and the answer was not-at-all.  Probably due more to modernity in general.  He thought it was a bad thing, because the elderly have a lot of experience that the young could learn from.  What a nice, smart boy.

I also found out about social pecking order in student life and how important the beauty factor is, as well as more about university student life and the balance students strike between studies and extracurricular activities, most predominantly the club they join, which becomes the major part of their social lives. I taught him the difference between a nerd and a geek today, and how being a geek no longer has the stigma attached to it that it once did.  When asked to rate himself as a student, he gave himself a 10.  And I concur, since he was the only student to take advantage of an English conversation class.  We’re both glad for the extra time to be able to talk in-depth.

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So today I figured I’d better stock up on groceries while I still had some money left.

After getting some staples, I stopped by the banchan store and picked out a bunch of side dishes as my vegetable portions.  This time the adjumma was by herself, and after a few sessions of me pointing mutely at this or that dish, she asked me if I was Ilbon. (Japanese)

“Annio.  Migook saram.”  I said as I continued to pick out dishes.

Then she looked at me quizzically and asked me in Korean if I was Korean, to which I said I was.  And then I think she exclaimed, “and you can’t speak any Korean???”  To which I replied “no.  Annio.  Hangukmal.”  She really couldn’t believe this.  I think she must have said, “not any at all????”  And then I remembered to reply, “na-nun Ibyung-a.”

Her face dropped a million miles on the floor and she got soooo sad and gave an audible “awwwwwww,”  and she came over and gave me a full-on hug.  And then I think she must have been asking me if I was okay, and I was saying, I’m okay.  I’m okay.  The hug was nice.  Much better than the dark cloud and then moment of uncomfortable silence that usually happens.

While she was packing up all the dishes she stopped to ask me if I’d found my mother, and I told her no.  And again she asked me (I think) if I  was okay and she gave me a big hug and was patting me on the back like a child.

I told her again I was okay, thanked her for the yummy food, and carried my heavy bags slowly up the hill to my house.

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Thus concludes another noteworthy yet not really that atypical day…

SALARY

E-2: 2.3M + housing allowance(300,000won)

F-4: 2.3M                                               (we don’t need housing?)

F-2:  2.4 (Basic  salary)+300,000won for   housing  allowance)

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Job #1 (Two native teachers with F-2 visa or F-4 visa with western-look wanted)

Job #2 (native female teacher wanted)

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2 Openings on these classes

F2(or F5) only . Nationality : USA preferred

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btw,

E-2 – Foreigner here on an Education teaching visa

F2 – Foreigner married to a Korean national

F4 – Foreign ethnic Korean (me)

F5- Foreigner with permanent residency

In preparation for my demise as a publicly-funded private missionary high school teacher, I have spent the last week responding to late-breaking job positions.   Yesterday, one of the temporary business English recruiters contacted me and today, mid day, she informs me she’d like an interview this evening.

With only a half hour to change out of my Michelin man costume, (it’s freezing at school and there’s remodeling going on, so I’m dressed in as many unflattering, comfortable layers as possible) I rush home to survey my wardrobe and find NOTHING corporate-looking in my closet.  I continue to wear the white turtleneck I was wearing all day, throw on a scarf, pop in my old contact lens prescription, line my eyes, pin back my too-long bangs, de-fuzz my black pants, black sweater, and black coat, and rush out the door in less than a half hour.  Of course, the directions from the subway to the recruiter’s office look much shorter on the map, and then I fail to see any bike repair shop and walk an extra three blocks looking for the place and am five minutes late.

After a normal interview, the recruiter asks me to give a demonstration lesson without warning, and hands me a book.  It’s the student book and there is no teacher manual and no guidelines, and she just tells me to give a lesson to her in a conversational manner.  It kind of throws me because the format begins in a formal, class-room-like way, so I have too many questions on how to proceed.  This hesitation = failure, and yet somehow I manage to convince her that I really do enjoy teaching conversation and explain to her what tripped me up.

She doesn’t think I’m ready for the corporate classes and yet;  yet maybe I might be interested in this one client she has, who has different concerns than the typical students.  Maybe if this one client is happy, then I can be given other classes.  By all means!  Let me try!  The recruiter looks worried.

Long story short, I will now, in the near future, at the crack of dawn, have English conversations with the president of a hugely major (can’t disclose to you) company in Korea.  This person has already eaten four English tutors and has a strong personality!  I am a failure in the regular business conversation classes because I do not present myself confidently enough, but something about me is different enough to be given to the eater of English tutors either as a possible solution to their problems or out of desperation or both!

Can she do it?  Can she teach the president?  Will the president’s son fall for her?  Will he end up carrying her on his back?  Will this be a rags to riches story?  Where is and who is the third person in the love triangle?  Will she not only save the tycoon from English embarrassment, but bring the family closer together?

The recruiter, even more worried, asks why I came to Korea alone and why I’m not with my family.  I tell her American families are different, and she disagrees and says she knows several American families.  She already knew my kids were in college, but Korean kids stay with their parents until they land their post-college jobs, so that didn’t register with her.  Finally, I reminded her that American kids usually leave home at 18 and that, actually, I’ve lived alone for several years already.  That seems to satisfy things somewhat.

The recruiter looks at me and says, “Do you own a suit?”  No.  But I’ll buy one.  (I’d mentioned several times that I would be purchasing more appropriate attire earlier)  I tell her that I’ve never owned a suit, because the West Coast is a different business environment and suits are considered stuffy there.  “What’s that on your face?  Is that a PIERCING?”  No.  Maybe you’re looking at a mole.  (actually, it was a pimple)  “Please put your hair up when you meet the client.  You should get a haircut.  And you need to straighten your hair.”

“And put on some makeup.”

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Ahh, back in the world of narcissists and sociopaths.  This, folks, is why I never pursued my Architecture license and hated business meetings.  The whole image-is-everything mind-set is such a bankrupt place to spend your time.  My hatred for such pretenses and glad-handing is actually a strong knowledge base, but pretending to be that way while at the same time being nurturing and empathetic to someone who wants to be that way in a second language has an irony to it that would be laughable were it not for the shared desperation.

Nothing is for free and there is no such thing as easy money!

If I weren’t so intrigued and compelled to meet the kind of person that can send four tutors packing, I probably would have moved on.  But I like odd characters, even cantankerous ones, and hope they prove to be interesting.

The forgotten unknown war.

I crossed out forgotten, because I never remembered it in the first place.   In fact, up until this weekend’s movie blitz I never knew ANYTHING about it.

This might come as a shock to non Koreans and Koreans alike that an ethnic Korean would know so little about something that so directly or indirectly deeply affected their and every other Korean’s life, but I’ll wager it’s not so shocking to other adoptees.

The only thing I did know about the Korean war was that it was before I was born, and I wasn’t even sure how much before I was born:  I just knew it was extremely annoying to always be asked, when people quite obviously could see I didn’t match my parents, if I was a war baby or not.  So I learned to educate them that no, that was before my time.  Oh, how the west always wanted to romanticize the Asian orphan.  War baby.  Daughter of a whore.  That’s truly what everyone wanted to believe.  And it truly added to my allure and also devaluation by white men.

So watching this movie was an eye-opener for me.  Especially because I embraced the “ain’t gonna study war no more” anthem of the 60’s, which was also before my time.  So I didn’t.  Not at all.  Because that war was about another race, not me, because I was not one of those people from that place (wherever THAT is)…

I didn’t know, for instance, that the North had nearly taken the entire peninsula or that the bulk of the war was spent keeping China at bay.

Missing from the above documentary was any pre-war analysis.  I got some sense of what liberation meant from a few moments in the Korean movie Welcome to Dongmakgol, which is about an idyllic village untouched by time or war where a lone U.S. pilot and some stray North and South Korean troops manage to overcome their differences to save said village.

After centuries of rule and oppression, once the Korean peninsula was liberated, it was still being pulled in all directions by others.  And still is today.  Greatly weakened by poverty to the north and over-consumption to the south,  Korea still doesn’t have a secure sense of itself:  only that it must survive.

A member of the progressive party tells us of her protest days during the pro democracy movement and how her father locked her in a closet for  days so she couldn’t join the violent demonstrations.  She talked of their battle cry:  FIGHTING!  and how it’s just a fashionable meaningless thing to say now and she’s embarassed by what used to make her proud.

All around me are uniforms, at the schools, at the department stores and restaurants, the banks, and the salary men in their suits.  Maybe these are remnants of militarization.   Kindergartners yell out chanted response to calls from their teachers, and if we only dressed them in drab and put red ribbons in their hair, it’s not a stretch to see communist China.  They like this.  They thrive on it. To follow in a uniform manner builds solidarity and fosters fond feelings that the adults here still cherish.  You are one of many.  You belong to something.  Even protesting is uniform and orderly.

I asked my student yesterday if he was a leader or a follower, and he said follower.  Why?  Because leading was too hard.  To lead meant you had to be concerned about everyone and take care of them.  “You mean, like a father figure?” I ask.  “Yes,” he replied.  I told him that in the west, we thought of leaders as those with the best ideas, who could inspire others; who made things happen.  No.  A leader took care of people.

I know that being part of the armed forces was the only secure thing my former husband ever had in his life, the closest thing he had to a functional family, and that when I worked for the military industrial complex myself I came to appreciate its rigor:  one always knows the rules, your needs are always met, and you are never alone.  Not having these three things strike terror in the hearts of Koreans, and so they live a life full of fear.   Maybe this is what Tobias Hubinette meant by comforting an orphaned nation.   The entire country has no leader, no father figure.  And without an oppressor, who is the enemy?  The uncertainty of that is stressful, almost too much to bear.   And so they cling to uniforms, Dokdo and Tsushima, changing Japanese revisionist history, and keep the fight alive, trading arms for English, because without a fight there is only oblivion.

In the course of this recent movie marathon of mine, orphans of domestic or international variety come up far too frequently.  Maybe a third of the random Korean movies I’ve seen have an orphan in them.   A third!!!  You’d think maybe one a year would be excessive, but no…now tell me someone’s conscience isn’t disturbed…In a forgotten country reeling from a forgotten war, in an orphaned nation, we cast-offs are co-opted as symbols of everyone’s collective hard knocks, yet we have no purchase.     We were jettisoned for survival due to our inconvenience and we are beginning to be courted back again for survival and convenience.   And when we aren’t co-opted symbols of THEIR hardship and tragedy, then we are envied our flight OUT of Korea, to a land of milk and honey.

“Nobody imagined adoptees would return,” Mrs. Seol of Holt said.   Nobody imagined anything but their own escape fantasies.   Over 76,000 have returned:  way over half of all adult adoptees.  Definitely not the neat ending they’d wanted.

I meant to post this two weeks ago.  The letter to Kim Sook Ja got returned, with the following stamped note,”undeliverable as addressed.”

Holt blew it with the insensitive way they handled my case.  Instead of being forthright about about all the documents they had and then exploring every possibility and giving me the opportunity to extend an invitation to her, they call her up from out of the blue and say some unnamed person thinks she’s your sister, without any background information.  I’d run screaming in the opposite direction too.

Well, I did all I could this year, so I feel a little more at peace.  Maybe in a year or two when I can afford a more thorough private investigator, she will feel differently.  Kim Sook Ja deserves to know the circumstances behind her abandonment and the odd way in which our fates were documented as one.

In the meantime, may all the grateful Korean adoptees – working for the industry and hell bent on whitewashing everyone else’s stories – go to hell.  The records, wrestled out of the adoption agency’s clutches, tell another tale.