Even Korea’s network devoted at global promotion, Arirang, realizes what a huge problem this is and tries to explain it to us perplexed foreigners…

I’m certain I’m more physically self-conscious than I was before I came here.  The amount of judging for all the wrong things does get to me.  There’s always comments…It’s surprising to me how I’m not stronger than that.

 

Doing research on Korean customs and poses for the upcoming open class, I re-ran-across the Asian poses site:

When I first got here I was appalled to see billiards tournaments on t.v. It wasn’t the billiards which was appalling, but the barely dressed bimbos they had bending over the tables playing. Kind of reminded me of when Hugh Hefner had a network t.v. show on with playboy bunnies when I was a kid. He did nothing that could be censored or that I, as a little child, could not watch but it was totally prurient and grossly emphasized T. & A.

I haven’t seen the billiard show lately, but I do accidentally stumble across this horrible show more than I’d like.  It’s kind of like  America’s Top Model, only it’s to be the queen of the racing models.  And though they do have some glamor shots, most of the time they are bouncing around badly trying too hard to be sexier than each other.

One other time I serendipitously ran across this book and I nearly threw up all over my keyboard.  Someone on a forum for men who wanted to pick up Asian women referenced it.  That cover art really pisses me off, btw…I think because that should/has nothing to do with orientalism…

And then there are articles like this one, Top Reasons Why Men Like Asian Women  and I think you can see why I would have preferred to be white growing up in America.  Asian women love when men are men (whatever that means) and never henpeck and they and their children are happier than white women and children.  Yeah, right…

And coming here and witnessing the above elevation of the vacuous doll, I think you can see why I’m happy to go back to America.  Now, to be fair, your common everyday Korean woman is not posing for a camera all the time, but it’s still disturbing that they do this stuff when a camera gets put in front of their face.  And to be fair, girls are very much moving up in the workplace and having to juggle running their domestic households AND workplace equity issues every day.  And further, being sassy and strong is being exulted in pop girl groups like 2NE1, but they are also guilty of pandering to these ideas of feminine “beauty,” and for every one of them there are ten other girl bands acting like nothing but boy toys.  It’s not that this doesn’t happen in America too:  it’s just so endemic here.

But I’m rambling now…just wanted to jot this down…I’m glad I grew up in the west, though it’s not that much better, no wait, it’s a lot better, but it’s still bad, if that makes sense…but it also sucked growing up in the west when they’re writing books like the one above and ogling you every time you step outdoors.  But mostly, mostly I’m just beat down by what it is to be a woman today.  It’s still so wrong.

This week, for all the electrical and architectural students, I decided to share a little of my background for them instead of teach English.  Not only because it is in the same field, but because it doesn’t seem like these kids get lessons on life very often at school.  Not having a portfolio since my real one got stolen during a move, and since what little I had electronically is a now defunct and archived website, I poked around on the internet to gather what I could, and got all nostalgic.

I told them how, when I was 17, my grade point average was 1.8 because I didn’t care about school, because there was no hope, and how I left my family, got on a plane and traveled to California to live on my own and had to pay for my own rent and food and nearly starved while still going to high school and working nights.  How I even quit school altogether for awhile.  And then how I got married while still in high school, and how after that school just seemed so easy compared to real life and I got a 4.0 my senior year.  I told them how I had babies at 19 and 21 and how my husband was an alcoholic and I had to work at Burger King and cleaning toilets and even picked through trash for cans to turn in for recycling for extra money.  Again, school is play compared to real life.  And then I got the job at the shipyard as an electrician apprentice for 3.5 years and was able to get a divorce.

Having lunch on the mast of this guided missile cruiser with Mudshark the welder was a fond memory – we’d climb climb climb up to the top and he’d pass me a pair of John Lennon sunglasses and we’d eat there on the roost, kings of everything, and he’d play his flute and life was beautiful;  as was having a date with Ray the pipefitter on a barge, past the docks, drinking contraband wine with fruit and cheese, the entire fleet of ships like silent servants attending…

…and getting a private escort by the captain of the Nimitz from the captain’s bridge and across the hangar while the entire crew of enlisted men were standing at attention was also unforgettable!

Here’s a little clip showing what it’s like to work on a ship in drydock.  Interesting to me how someone deemed this experience worthy of creating two t.v. shows, Carrier and Drydock, which I didn’t know existed until this week!

I also worked on several submarines and can’t remember the names of them.  Spent a whole year in one and I can’t remember it’s name…I worked on more subs than most people there:  because I was small they would send me on loan to the other subs whenever there was a job nobody else could be crammed into.  This was a big reason why I quit, actually, they were the worst and most unpleasant jobs that made even grown men shudder to think about.  One of which was on a Trident nuclear sub, where me and this other small man worked mostly upside down over the weekend, saving the government over $400,000.  I got a flashlight.  I quit about two weeks later!

I actually really really enjoyed working there.  There’s nothing like having tools, and power tools, knowing how to use them, understanding technology, be a specifications geek, being strong and fit and using your body as well as producing craft-work you can be proud of.  But I was too miserable during the process of expelling my alcoholic husband and also was part of a scandal in which people understandably thought I was a Monica Lewinsky to someone important there, though I actually never allowed that to happen, though I suppose it was still some sort of relationship.  I was still just a little girl and hadn’t had the opportunity to learn about people and relationships yet, so I was reckless and didn’t understand how my own actions affected others.  And I’d also decided that maybe there was a way for me to get through college after all, and if I didn’t move on right then, then me and my kids would be trapped in that small-minded town forever.

So I went to school. My ex. was finally out and on his feet and with my savings and his child support and financial aid, it was possible.  At first I was going to major in social work, but working as a case aid at CPS cured me of that. But only $50 of child support ever materialized (EVER), so I eventually had to get help from the state.  And then I wanted to switch to a childhood love of Architecture, which had to be approved by the state.  Fortunately, at that time, the state still allowed women to get a real secondary education.  Thank God for them.  I feel so bad for the women on welfare today with deadbeat dad ex-husbands, whose only future is under employment.

Architecture school was wonderful, it combined my love of drawing, my technical nature, my exposure to construction, and my notions that our spaces can heighten our appreciation and connection to nature and therefore our own humanity.  You know Project Runway?.  It’s like that, only every day:  intense and exciting, only there’s no finale or grand prize…if there was a grand prize I won it, by getting accepted to Yale’s Graduate program:  too bad my parents crushed that possibility.  2 more attempts at grad school at the University of Washington, and they wouldn’t accept me because they needed the higher tuition rates from foreign students…So I had to settle for being an intern and doing it the long way.  Only by the time I was halfway there I decided that the profession wasn’t worth getting credentialed for.    Architecture is still wonderful – it’s how it’s practiced that isn’t.

Architecture as a job was horrible, abusive and demoralizing.  I showed the students some of my work, and they wondered why I quit.  I told them rich people were not always nice to be around, and that the U.S. economy tanked, and that I wanted to come to Korea and learn about it.  But actually, I quit because it’s such a sick culture and I wanted to be in a healthier environment.  But my last job as a contract drafter was actually quite pleasant, because it was me exploiting the industry instead of the other way around – damned economy…

Why the profession of Architecture is sick,  a few case studies:

Unnamed Firm #1

While still in school I was hired by a sweet old principal Architect based on my drawing ability, even though that was to be the end of my drawing and I’d be chained to a computer for the remainder of my time there and 99.99% of the rest of my career.  If it had just been me and him and a mentor-mentee arrangement, that would have been great, especially because he had done really thoughtful, sensitive work.  But it was a firm with multiple principals and he was on his way out.  I got the idea to have us interns enter a design contest in our spare time, and the firm told us that would be like moonlighting and we couldn’t do that and keep our jobs.  There was a huge drop in morale after that.  Welcome to corporate America.  The multiple partners was more like a barely united Federation, each vying for resources and thinking about themselves.  Some things don’t get better with growth, time, or technology.

Unnamed Firm #2

I was initially really excited to work with this architect because he rejected the AIA and wrote contracts that were based more on a design relationship with the client than a contract based on litigation prevention.   Only the guy didn’t listen to his clients.  He was only focused on his vision and rejected their input.  He also couldn’t communicate, so when my then very green abilities didn’t come up to snuff (what did he expect – I was just out of school?) instead of saying anything or educating me, he just stewed about it.  We both fired each other.  But this is also classic Architecture – the pitiful architect is so starved for opportunity that when he gets a chance, he just has to assert his voice, totally running over the desires of the person who lives in the building and pays the fee.  Since this job only lasted about two weeks, it doesn’t exist.  The only thing that exists is the memory of the architect telling me the client didn’t know what she wanted…

Unnamed Firm #3

As soon as I got hired I was put on a team and given a nice spot and a girl who’d been there for years quit shortly thereafter.  It turned out she’d never been given an opportunity to work on a good project and had to sit off in a corner by herself and was pigeon-holed as an illustrator.  (which sounds great but actually it’s hugely tedious in short order)  Her loyalty was never rewarded because she wasn’t aggressive, so she had to watch me come in and take everything she’d been hoping for for years.  Sucks.  The place had a very good urban planning focus, but its marriage to mega developments had produced a culture of volume and sales mind-set.  Business took precedence over all else and pressure to be competitive was promoted by the owner.  So designers had to make cold calls and their sales were tracked…yuck.   Morale was pretty low there, despite superficial attempts to raise it. Kinda reminded me of episodes of The Office, only not funny.

Unnamed Firm #4

At this firm I was interviewed as if I were to be an integral part of the firm, which I believe the owners actually wanted for their employees yet it didn’t match the reality of their needs, and so I was stuck in a corner cubicle totally isolated from ANYONE and my role on the “team” was only drafting.  I was the only drafter on not just the mind-numbing housing project above, but also a second equally large project.  We only had ONE team meeting on this project, where I pointed out a stairway design that didn’t have enough head-room in it and was caught in the middle of two different architects arguing about how to address the problem, so whichever way I approached it would be considered wrong…When my supervisor didn’t even know who I was after six months, I put in a request to switch to a different project, which resulted in those stairway drawings being pulled mid-being worked on and prior to resolving the problem  – which I CAUGHT –  to make a case that I was incompetent out of sour grapes because I made them look like bad people managers, which they were.  Ambitious people suck.  This is a case of too many chiefs and not enough indians on one level, and dirty dirty competitiveness and politics at a lower level.  Hiring over-qualified people for the lowest level work is just stupid, especially when it becomes quickly evident there is no room for advancement.  Things got better after I did get transferred out of multi-family housing hell,  but it was clear there would never be room for anyone new to have a voice there.

Unnamed Firm #5

While looking up this firm to show the kids the kind of stuff I’d worked on in the past, I was surprised to see my hand drawings still up on their website.  Shortly after I’d been hired I was asked to look at a really severe federalist-style home exterior and see what I could do with it.  This is what I produced in a couple days:

I changed the material from clapboard to shingles, gave it relief, made the transitions of materials more proportionate, softened the roof-line, gave it generous northwest over-hangs, and added the curves that shingle-style wants to have.  I turned a stern schoolmarm into a graceful dancer.  During the time working on this project, I also figured out and drew all of the exterior details and made the whole house work.

Not once, during my entire time working there, was I ever introduced to the clients or allowed to sit in on a meeting with them.  They never knew I existed.  I don’t know what they even look like.  And I never got any appreciation for my contributions, only irritation from the pretentious project architect.  I was given the impression when hired I would be part of a team, but ended up only being the drafter, possibly because he resented me making the exterior of his building better the first week I was there.  There were a lot of bruised egos there and another case of too many chiefs and not enough indians.  I was told I could be moved to another project – a remodel of a home that had grown in a very complex way, which would have been right up my alley, but they gave it to a new hire who totally struggled with it.  There wasn’t a lot of testosterone in that office, but there was a lot of over-compensating for the lack of it.  I’m convinced if I’d literally had gonads things would have been much much different there.

The students asked, seeing all these sumptuous projects, if architects make a lot of money and I told them no.  But that’s not exactly true.  They COULD make a lot of money if they actually DID work as a team, if they actually had IDEAS, if they knew their own creative process better, and if they knew how to use their tools.

This firm is a perfect case in point.  Here’s just one example of many:  We used a computer program which was geared for 3D designs which automatically adjusts itself everywhere.  But the architects insisted we use the program as a 2D pencil.  The same elevation (the exterior drawing above) I did by hand in two days they wanted re-created in the program.  The Architect looked at the texture on the computer drawing and told me to re-do the entire thing because the shingles were too close together.  Never mind that this texture was borrowed from previous projects and it had been used repeatedly…Never mind that I had to CREATE a whole new texture to do this…Never mind that this is only a diagram to the contractors which says, “put shingles here.”  Then, whenever there was the slightest change, the other architect would tell me to change the elevation, like switching from a 12″ exposure shingle to a 9″…Never mind that the elevation is only a road-map to the details and the 3″ change could be written as a note.  Later, that same project architect complained that I spent too much time on the elevations…On this same project the pretentious architect who had to control everything insisted the entire design be based upon the width of pre-manufactured windows.  And what windows were we using?  He didn’t know yet.  So as a result of putting the cart before the horse, every line and every dimension of every plan and detail had to be re-drawn multiple times.

This is why Architects don’t make money – because they have OCD about things that don’t matter or don’t contribute to the final product or that just aren’t logical, they don’t know their tools, and they waste the talents of their employees.  They hire over-qualified people who can’t possibly be happy doing beginner work, they don’t give opportunities to young people to advance and they never share the joy or credit.  They spend thousands of hours re-drawing drawings because it’s more important to appear as if progress is being made then to take your time up front and have a sound design to begin with.  Narcissists and egomaniacs dominate, and those who aren’t narcissists must become narcissistic if they are to compete for the roles in which there is some autonomy or control.  Obsessive compulsive social misfits are also attracted to this profession, and that’s fine if they’re specialists in areas of the profession that require those traits, but too often these people – by luck or connections or conniving become designers, and budgets skyrocket as they correct bad ideas or the world suffers for their lack of imagination.  Because they are often bankrupt of ideas the client spends and spends and the architects burn up most of their profits floundering and re-designing.

Now, I HAVE  had some good experiences in Architecture, only I was suffering from grass is greener syndrome and I blew it.  AND, none of them did the work I wanted to do.

CDA Architects

OK, this commercial firm had horrible aesthetics and the boss was a little crazy, but he gave his clients what they needed and he was also really great about giving young people a lot of responsibility and learning trial by fire.  He took my giving notice to move on to greener pastures personally and blew a gasket and I left immediately instead, but I still value all the great experience I got there and know that his volatility was also balanced by generosity.  I’d highly recommend to new architectectural interns to do some time at a place that does fast basic buildings to be exposed to the whole process multiple times and get a good handle on the big picture, coordinating consultants, the assembly of drawing sets and tried-and-true construction practices.

Odell Design Group

Jack Odell is now retired, but I will sing his praises anyway.  He was an impossible man!  A neurotic megalomaniac!  (which, strangely, became endearing)  But he believed in me, gave me the best opportunities, and was a good designer in that he always had a vision (albeit pretentious one), solved problems well, and treated everyone as part of the team.   Plus it was great to have the opportunity to work on the most intricate custom details, and I helped one client win a lawsuit and  was pivotal in helping another client win a variance in Medina, perhaps THE most restrictive planning office in the U.S.  (thanks to Bill Gates building his complex there)  Jack was great – he made me the project Architect in the office and put drafters under me  as well.   I was juggling about five projects at a time for awhile there and enjoying it.   I left mostly due to our stormy/strange father/daughter relationship, but I certainly regret it.  And he was kind enough to give me outstanding references afterward.  I actually really love the guy and miss him a lot.

Here’s only one of the many projects I worked on for him.  Did all the exterior details on this.

McNelis Architects

Lisa was great.  Low key, relaxed.  Listened to her clients, usually had a vision, and really put her head into providing solutions to problems.  Might never win any design awards, but that’s because the clients she has are regular folk with regular non-glossy-magazine problems and regular budgets.  And the solutions she came up with were always really thoughtful and appropriate and always above and beyond their needs and expectations.  She was handicapped in not knowing her tools well, but that’s endemic in Architecture, and at least she was honest about hiring people for the work they were actually given to do.  An architect without ego, providing a great service to her clients, and unpretentiously helping people of all income levels truly enrich their lives by making their spaces work better for them.  She’s an unsung hero, in my book.

Wabi Sabi Studios

This was my own little attempt at sole-proprietorship.  Unfortunately, it takes connections to keep a business going and I had none.  AND I suck at business and self-discipline, so I took down my shingle after one project.

Before – a Federalist-style building with weird additions:  very dark inside.  The upstairs was un-livable.

After – I added an entry foyer, turned the stairway 180 degrees so it opened onto the view of Lake Washington and didn’t force you upstairs the instant you opened the front door, removed the walls enclosing the stairway, opened up the treads and put a skylight overhead.  Significant improvement in the quality of life.  If I had been a more competitive person I should have knocked the entire house down and done some magazine worthy design, but I thought the remodel was more challenging and better for the environment.

Anyway, maybe one day I’ll go back, not to the profession, but to truly design – for friends or family.  But I’m really happy to know I can do the entire process and do it well.

Now to tackle learning to drape and tailor in Las Vegas…and then on to painting…at least that’s the plan, if I don’t get side-tracked!

Expository facebook post:

Once upon a time there was a lonely lady who wanted a companion, so she decided to find out how to get a kitten. What she wanted most was a fancy cat – an exotic breed that was special and more beautiful!

• She went to the internet to look up exotic breed catteries and found out those kittens were very expensive. It didn’t seem right that someone would pay so much for an exotic breed when she knew there were alley cats in her neighborhood that needed homes. It also made her feel bad when she realized the kittens’ mommies were thought of as kitten factories.
• She went to the pet store but found out the store owners only thought of the kittens as dollars in their pockets. They didn’t care how the kittens came to be available. She didn’t want to contribute to their continued business.
• She went to the Local pound and adopted a starving kitten whose mom was missing. And then she felt bad about wanting an exotic breed at first.

Months passed and she took the kitten to the animal doctor for the operation. You know, the operation that stops cats from having babies. And then she got very, very sad. Because she remembered living with a momma cat and her babies and watching the love they shared.

And then she remembered that she was similar to that kitten: that she was also an orphan. Only she didn’t come from a pound, or a store, or a cattery, but something like a combination of all three, yet unlike all three. And then she wanted to rescue her kitten from the operation and watch her become a momma cat and love her babies, but it was too late.

I go pick her up in about two hours.  :(

Wow.  Who knew I would be SO MESSED UP over this?  People at my office are probably wondering what’s wrong with me…She was just holding me for dear life yesterday, and passed out on my chest, wrapped around my neck, as the anesthesia hit her.  And all I could think was, “What right do I have to fuck with what God gave her?”  And she’s never outdoors anyway…I’m so upset.  I’ve just spent a whole lotta money on something I don’t feel good about.  Damn it.

So today I get to the class that literally smelled like shit last week and >of course< the projector doesn’t work for my power point presentation.  During the down time I ask to collect the punishment assignment from last week.

One student hands in the assignment.

The leader of the gang in the back says, “NO!”  and all pandemonium breaks out as about six others start arguing with me about the fairness of it or one of them produces a book they didn’t have last time.  I tell them this isn’t just about the book.  This is about them being late, being rude, talking, disrespecting me, and never being prepared to learn  They continue to argue.  I tell them this is not for debate.  I outline again how I already told them that if they don’t do this assignment they will get a zero on the exam.  “I DON’T CARE!” says the one.  Or, “Hangukmal!”  pretending he doesn’t understand me OR the Korean teacher’s translations.  I tell them they have had A WEEK to complete it and now they have 40 more minutes, the choice is up to them.

I turn to the co-teacher and say, there is anarchy in this classroom.  We can’t let this continue.  And she says, “I know…  I don’t want it either.”  So WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? She just shrugs.

I survey the room, and nobody is doing anything.  I tell them if they are smart they will get out paper and pencil and finish up as much as they can.  Most of the class are good kids, but they are psychologically hijacked by the cocky assholes giving me a hard time.  I tell a few of them they can’t afford to get a zero from me, and I walk around and encourage some especially bright kids (but popular kids) to not be like their pabo friends and that they are too smart to hurt their own grades.

I leave the classroom and tell them I will be back at 25 after to collect what they have done.  There are about four students writing…

It’s like I’m teaching 13 year old morons…

 

Yesterday I was really frustrated, due to not having anything to do for many hours and not having a working computer, so instead of staying at school for dinner I opted to be a spend-thrift and leave on-time for a change and treat myself to a dinner out at my favorite restaurant here.

On the menu now is cheong guk jang 청국장.  I’m not sure what the difference is between that and duenjang chiggae, but it was awesome.  I think it has more whole beans in it, so I’m wondering if it’s made directly from the meju.  Note to myself to compare recipes on-line…

The restaurant owner even made sure to ask me if I was sure I wanted it, as foreigners can’t handle the smell.  I wrote about the experience at my school earlier, where the smell of duenjang chiggae enough to feed 300 students, nearly blew my head off, smelling what I imagine the giant of Jack in the Beanstalk’s toe jam would be like…Then, the second time I had it was at the tofu restaurant near me, (which, btw, has a resident hen that roosts IN the restaurant, behind the air conditioner) and it wasn’t so bad.

The bean soup they serve is called bi ji chiggae (비지치깨) and it’s a pureed bean, ground pork, green onion and red pepper soup that’s pretty yummy.  (AND waaay too salty)  But this time:  (with the cheong guk jang) this time it was heaven.  Heaven in a bowl.  Comfort food like no other.  And the thing I love about this particular restaurant/chef, is her food is rarely over-salted and is always complex and rich in flavors but not rich in fat and less salty.  I imagine she makes or buys local meju (those bricks of pressed soybeans tied up and left hanging to dry, which ultimately end up as the basis for the fermented beans).  So I guess the question is, is the preparation of the beans in this dish that much better, or have my tastes just changed?

I saw on t.v. recently that duenjang (the fermented bean paste) from the country, properly aged, has over 100 beneficial bacteria in it, whereas the paste you buy at the store may only have a little over 20.  This particular spotlight showed a woman from Chuncheon playing cello to her field of clay pots – ha – to encourage a harmonious sauce, but I suspect it’s more just a peaceful thing to do after a hard day’s work, surrounded by all those pots slowly digesting and fermenting in the sun.

Anyway, this particular form of fermented beans  is to die for.  Just the perfect amount of tofu, pepper slices, mushrooms, zuchini, and ground pork.  I embrace it – and nothing like a hot bowl of that on a brisk autumn day.  In addition, one of the banchan was an amazing dessert.  It was some kind of pod, split open, paper thin, battered and fried with the lightest batter imaginable, and crusted with salty/sweet crystals.  Just melted in your mouth…

The next thing that’s changed is, even though I don’t do it well because I don’t have the kind of money to go throw around on clothing, is that I really appreciate layers now.  Scarves, undershirts, t-shirts, shrugs, sweaters, etc.  Koreans are geniuses at layering and mixing patterns and color.  Except for those overly demure boleros I absolutely love the multiple layers of Korean fashions, from diaphanous in the summer to the fiercely stylish extreme profiles of harsh winter woolens.

And, though I have snubbed my nose at being anything but sloppy and comfortable here (just to be rebellious and hold onto something Western, I think) I’m now totally convinced heels can actually have more place in my life than I’ve let them before.  Not that I want to look like a street walker like a few of the girls do in their fetish shoes and micro-mini skirts do here, but it’s certainly true that these balloon-legged cargo pants I’m wearing look really different with converse vs. some heels.  These days, though, Koreans are getting almost as sloppy looking as Americans…

Korea also teaches you to recognize when you are an ass.   And it also teaches you to recognize when others are asses.  Like that one adoptee who insisted to me that his Korean mother he’d been reunited with was purposefully sending him a message of extortion by wearing a t-shirt every day for a week that said, “what have you done for me lately?”  I tried to explain that she probably wore it as a means to reach out to him via his language and the t-shirt was the only thing with English that she had, but he would have nothing to do with that possibility:  he was convinced that she knew what it meant and that it was a not-so-subtle hint to take on his filial role and provide for her.  She’s an old ajumma for God’s sake! This is the same adoptee who proudly proclaimed he never judged anyone, but was constantly judging me.  Irritating even months later, because I haven’t been on the receiving end of a double standard in a long, long time. This meat-eating person didn’t want to eat pork, and I jokingly said, “good luck in Korea!” and he went on to berate me for being ridiculous.  But I don’t know how many times I’ve ordered something with no mention of meat as an ingredient and found pork of some variety floating in it:  kim chi chiggae, sundubu chiggae, dubu kim chi, the cheung guk jang, the list goes on and on.  Pork is the slider, pork is the magic flavorful ingredient, the think that says so what – you can’t afford beef, but at least you can afford protein.  Pork and it’s fat comforts Koreans.  The hint of it in everything adds richness to their meals/lives.  But okay, smarty-pants, my years here have amounted to nothing but ridiculous notions about getting surprise ingredients in your food.  Not that anyone wants to trick you, but if you say you don’t eat pork they still might get flustered because there’s an English speaker saying something unintelligible while making demands, so better to just give him the dish and hope for the best. He better learn Korean really well really fast, is all I can say. Or be rich and only eat beef.

I’ve had moments like that when I was equally an ass, like when I was 19 and in Guam and was convinced the locals switched to their local language when they wanted to talk about you, totally discounting that maybe it’s nice not to speak in a second language when you’re with a compatriot…but I’m not 19 anymore….But it’s just all out there on the surface when you hang out with adoptees, that and all their drama and anger, tears and self medication and hysterical embrace of each other, those beer drenched “I luve u, man!” things that are just embarrassing after the hangover has gone, and the anti-white comments from people who a few months earlier were as white as anybody inside. It’s just painful to deal with:  it’s a wonder Koreans put up with any of us at all, and I’m often amazed when I meet adoptees who’ve returned multiple times or even live here who are still assholes. But fortunately I also meet adoptees who leave wiser and more centered, and then I don’t feel so bad about being an adoptee, though I do recognize that those who come here have a whole lot of issues they didn’t bring upon themselves to sort out. It’s just a shame some make a career out of it.  In many ways, this isn’t really community, but it’s a cop-out.  So is a lot of the activism.  Keep busy and avoid your real problems.  Have another shot of soju.  Nope.  Won’t miss any of that at all…

But lately I’ve been feeling really a part of the virtual Korean Adoptee Community – and it seems like a nice enough community with some real dialogue transpiring.  I also think there’s really something to be said for those who stick it out and battle their small battles where they live.  It’s easy to run away.  I know.  Maybe it’s just the KAD community IN Korea that annoys me.

So I’m excited about the future.  I keep watching CSI Miami Las Vegas and Pawn Stars to get glimpses of the environment in Vegas.  I’m also a little wistful about leaving Korea.  And I actually love the brisk weather right now. And I love the little vendors that pop up at weird places, selling things out of their trucks. And it’s roasted sweet potato time. To put in your pocket, warm you up, and give you some sweet-tasting energy. It seems things are just starting to gel for me.  I’ve made a couple contacts with Koreans recently that would have further improved my perspective on this place, and I’m also in a space where I could focus more on integrating better, as well as help out with adoptee rights in a manner I could have been  proud of instead of what I have done, which I have some regrets over.  But that’s an alternate future that I won’t be pursuing, so I won’t dwell on it.

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Here’s a portrait of Momo which graces my desk, made as an example when I taught the kids how to use papier mache at summer camp.

And here’s the poorly executed hanji lamp I made the day my computer was taken away and I had zero classes due to it being National Sports Day. Thank God the incredibly refined electronics teacher gave me a leftover kit, or I would have died of boredom, sitting there all by myself all day.

…and here she is in the laundry basket – she doesn’t like anything to be in its place, so I’m starting to get used to living in a disaster area! She’s such a weird cat, unlike any I’ve ever had. She actually gets mad when I clean her cat-box. It’s like, “HEY! I worked hard to cover up those presents, damnit!”

Actually, she’s been pretty sweet lately. She gives me baths and is always wherever I am. Granted, it’s not where I want her or doing what I wish she would do, but she definitely has a whole lotta love to give. She practically knocks me over when I get home, crying and purring.

In a few days she goes to get fixed, and I’m feeling some guilt over it. I read a treatise by a veterinarian who is against fixing indoor pet cats because according to him it’s a trade-off health-wise, and it just seems unnecessary in our case. But I also know I want to get her a companion, and when we pick out her new best buddy, I have to make sure she doesn’t come home from a day’s play date knocked up…she may have already had her first heat, but I’m not quite sure. I’m dreading not feeding her the day of the operation and then coming home only to take her to the evil man who pokes her…and then leave her overnight. She may never forgive me!

*****

School has been really annoying lately. It’s taken two weeks to get my computer fixed, and it’s really hard to make the national curriculum interesting without multi-media aids. Then to top that off, one class in particular stopped bringing their books, goof off, don’t listen, and basically treat me like a perpetual substitute teacher to mock, piss off, and ridicule. All while the passive co-teacher just sits back and let’s them control the class. So yeah, I blew a gasket. Then I told them to write, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste” 300 times or get a zero on their final exam. Of course, it’s all pointless since the Korean English teachers won’t allow me to give any student a failing grade. These kids are so coddled, it’s so not funny. Of course it’s only half their fault, since the precedent was set by the passive co-teacher, and she’s not going to help me out because then there would be conflict for her. Never mind that the kids don’t learn half what they could because they hijack half the class time. Worst teacher ever. Oh wait, I forgot about old Mr. Lee at Baekyoung. But at least he had the excuse of not knowing English himself…

Today I went into class ready to collect the punishment, and the entire room smelled of shit. One of them stepped in it and as a joke spread it all around the back of the room. sigh. So I switched gears and did a fun project in the English zone. Which was exciting foΩ r them to go to, so it prompted yet another attempted behavioral free-for-all hijacking from them. I remind them of the punishment and give them one more session to complete it. Then they try to appeal to the Korean teacher saying it’s not fair. One of the students says, “I don’t care.” and I threaten to take him to the principal to call his mom. (As if that’s really going to happen) And he laughs and says I’d have to talk to his halmoni and mocks me. And the Korean teacher just translates what I’m saying while laughing too. I almost told them I was leaving right that second and almost walked out.
Most of the kids are nice enough, and it’s only the one teacher’s students who are jerks…The previous teacher refused to teach in her class for months…

Actually last week I DID walk out, paced around the teacher’s office and discussed the crappy Korean non-existent system of discipline with the head of my desk group. She said, “We are all angry too! Every day we are angry!” There are no enforced consequences for actions here. And the thing that gets me is Koreans will blame the student’s attitudes on western influences. Anyway, she gave me a cup of green tea, which I took my sweet time drinking, and then I went back and gave them the writing assignment.

Gah! Two more months of this. I still have to tell the school I’m leaving. But I still haven’t signed my Vegas contract. So I’m hesitant to do so before then, though I’m 99% confident it’s still coming to pass. Yeah, even if I’d stay in Korea, it would be time for a new job.

*****

I think strip-mall Vegas NOT-America’s-most-livable-city is going to seem so so great once I get there! I mean, I looked up on Yelp and there are ETHIOPIAN RESTAURANTS, Greek restaurants, Tapas, and things I can relate to like truckers, bikers and people who hate Karaoke and love Elvis (I must not really be Korean) and diners with biscuits and gravy and…And even the crappy apartments are twice as big as the shoebox I live in here. I can get a two bedroom apartment for a song and get a playmate for Momo and have a studio/office to work in again.  And MUSIC! I’m going to investigate all the music I’ve missed the past few years, and also pursue all the Soul and old-skool R&B funk that I never have. And my bandoneon will be finished being repaired and I can attempt to pick that up again! And, oh I can go on and on. I’m really getting excited about it!