Oooh, South Korean opposition-party politicians are PISSED...
It's still a wonder to me that President Lee Myung-bak got elected in the first place, given how sharply his approval ratings plummeted as soon as he took office. The initial negative response was due to his decision to sign a trade deal with the United States, allowing the U.S. to export beef products from older cows to South Korea. The public became terrified of a Mad Cow Disease epidemic, staged mass protests all over the country (including one in my small town, right outside of my taekwondo studio just as I was coming out of practice...had anyone asked, I planned to say I was Canadian).
Looks like we're still seeing the fall-out from LMB's massively unpopular decisions, as opposition-party members are doing everything in their power - even taking physical action - to prevent other trade-agreement bills (among other issues) from going through.
I have my own opinions, positive and negative, about both sides of Korea's current political brouhaha. But for now all I'll say is this: it may be shocking as an American to see such things happening in a democratic system, but it's also refreshing. Imagine if politicians in this country were as willing to put themselves on the line for an issue that's deeply important to them and the country - say, for example, the Iraq war or gay marriage bans?
I don't quite understand it. I love the snow. I love the holiday time right around mid-December, when city streets have lights in its trees that reflect off of last night's snow. I LOVE that. Very little makes me happier.
Nonetheless, right now I find myself missing last year's foggy December in Neungju more than I find myself enjoying the rather picturesque downtown Ann Arbor streets.
Or maybe I just miss the kids who made the foggy rural mountainscapes all worth it. You tell me.
If we're discussing recent viral K-pop sensations, the only song that can really compete the Wondergirls' "Tell Me" is Jewelry's "One More Time." Wondergirls' youth and cuteness is put up against Jewelry's experience and sexiness. "One More Time" came out early in 2008, and the group placed number 1 for 7 weeks in a row on a popular music performance/rankings show. That's almost two straight months of dominating the Korean music charts and, more to the point, the internet downloads. Recently the group won a year-end award for 'Best Digital Single', which basically translates to 'Most Ridiculously Popular Song to Download, Performance to View on Repeat, and Dance to Imitate.'
The dance in question is the "E.T. dance," and if you watch the video, you'll understand why.
One More Time music video (with English subs, no less)
(I got pretty good at a tamer version of this dance, as well as the "Tell Me" dance. Both are remarkably useful phrases in an English classroom, and if doing a quick ET dance along with it is what it takes to wake the kids up at 8:30 AM, then so be it.)
I don't know if this has been standard in K-pop for a while now, but one phenomenon of the past year or so has been dance crazes. They happen when a K-pop star comes out with a hot song, a hotter music video, and a super-hot yet simple accompanying dance. And then it spreads like wildfire across the internet, and before you know it, grandmothers are busting out the moves at Chuseok.
The Wondergirls are responsible for the first dance craze I noticed. While their talent is, in my opinion, questionable, their popularity is huge, due to addictive songs like their breakthrough single, "Tell Me."
Tell Me performance:
"Tell Me" was released last year and quickly became a sensation. And I mean a SENSATION (think Britney's "One More Time" times about 50). Kids performed the song ad nauseum at school festivals and everybody knew the basic dance steps, including yours truly. There are only so many times you can watch the same performance with with your host siblings before you start being able to imitate it.
And the people who produce the Wondergirls clearly know what they're doing, because they followed up "Tell Me" with this year's "So Hot" and the even more dance craze-able "Nobody."
Nobody performance:
"Tell Me" remains not only the Wondergirls' biggest hit, but also definitely the biggest dance sensation I've ever seen, and the Wondergirls are definitely the supreme purveyors of sugary, addictive K-pop. Nevertheless, I'll mention a couple other recent popular dance moves.
Not to lose to some fresh-faced teenagers, everybody's favorite boy band Dong Bang Shin Ki stumbled upon such a craze with their Korean comeback single "Spell (MIROTIC)." The addictive part of the choreography is brief and comes about 3/4 of the way through the song, during the rap solo. They recently were featured on a Fuse.TV music/travel program, where the move was ingeniously dubbed "Da Sexy Chin."
Mirotic performance:
Lest you think such crazes are limited to dance pop, Korean music legend Seo Taiji recently released a song called "Human Dream." It's a great song about robots wanting to become human (as far as I can tell, anyway). It's by far my favorite dance craze so far, because 1.) I love the song, 2.) Seo Taiji generally seems like the kind of person I'd love to have a beer with, and 3.) The dancing robots in pink spandex are pure happiness.
Human Dream performance, complete with pink spandex robots and an energetic audience:
Don't you just want to start flapping your hands along too? Or, if that's not your flavor, striking a sexy pose partly inspired by Rodin's "The Thinker"? Or perhaps go pseudo-retro so you can charmingly clap your hands and point forward?
1.) They have fire drills in Korea just like the States. That's not surprising at all. But because we're teachers and therefore special, we don't have to practice with the kids. Besides, if there's a fire the students will probably wait for us to escape first anyway.
2.) Green tea ice cream is delicious. Dear U.S. branches of Baskin Robbins: get on this.
Also, has anyone ever heard the phrase "shilly-shally"? An English teacher at my school got an email with a list of common expressions from a big-name Korean English school, and apparantly that was on the list. I really don't know what it could mean, but maybe I've been missing something for the past 23 years.
Everyone has secrets, and I’m no exception. My particular dirty little secret is known only to my family and good friends. It tends to come out when I'm with a group of people listening to music, usually your typical mainstream pop. You know, Beyonce, Justin Timberlake, etc. Sometimes a comment will be made along the lines of “This song is so addictive” or “I know I shouldn’t like this stuff, but it’s fun to dance to.” And, if my companions do not seem to be music snobs, this is precisely when I often choose to reveal my secret.
I’ll take a deep breath and duck my head down to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.
“I was a huge Backstreet Boys fan in eighth grade.”
I’m not proud of my past. But my excuse is that I was young, only 14 or so, very much interested in cute boys as a general rule, just discovering radio beyond my parents’ oldies station and highly susceptible to the musical tastes of my peers. Put it all together, and you’ve got a raging, obsessing, teeny-bopping BSB fangirl. I’ve come over time to accept my musical history as simply a part of my past; to not be so ashamed of my secret. Many girls my age were the same as I, whether the object of their obsessions were the Backstreet Boys, NSync, or even Hanson. I was young. I didn’t know any better.
Now, at 23 years of age, I should know better. And I thought I did know better.
Enter K-Pop.
My love of K-pop began with an earnest desire to connect with my students. I was frequently asked, “Teacher do you know blahblahblah?” And truthfully, I almost never knew blahblahblah. Faced with disappointed expressions, I knew that I had to become familiar at least with the popular groups if I wanted to truly bond with these teenagers. My host sister and our television set exposed me to FT Island, Wondergirls, and Super Junior. Then Big Bang and their song “Lies” entered my life.
Big Bang's "Lies" with English subtitles (Be warned, the video is kind of ridiculous.)
With an insanely addictive chorus, “Lies” became the first K-pop song that I downloaded to my computer, and it wasn't long before I could sing the entire chorus in Korean, even if I didn't fully understand what I was saying. In school my students and I talked about how good the song was and debated which Big Bang member was cuter, G-Dragon or T.O.P. (since he was older, I voted for T.O.P.). Enjoying this new level in my relationship with my students, I began reading a couple Korean pop culture blogs and became curious about one group who was particularly popular with my female students: TVXQ or Dong Bang Shin Ki. I watched a performance of their new song “Purple Line” on the internet. Good dancers, decent singers, I thought. I watched the music video. Entertaining, I thought. Still, with their over-the-top costumes and hairstyles, I mentally classified them, along with Big Bang, under “boy band” and then turned on the Beatles (who are, ironically, the original boy band).
Dong Bang Shin Ki's "Purple Line" (Korean version) with English subtitles (Be warned, the English is kind of ridiculous.)
The only problem was that I couldn't for the life of me get these Korean pop songs out of my head.
I searched online for various music videos and performances by my new favorite groups, especially Dong Bang Shin Ki. I watched subtitled interviews and variety shows and learned to identify individual members of each group, their personalities and their histories. I played their songs on repeat on my iPod, dancing and singing along the whole time. Thus, after eight years, I became a teeny-bopper all over again. For a bunch of singers who weren't much older than my students.
At first I felt embarrassed about my growing obsession. I thought I had long ago outgrown manufactured pop bands. Nevertheless, being a committed K-pop fan has definite benefits. Anything that helps my students feel more comfortable speaking to me is definitely a good thing. And at the end of a long day at school, there's nothing like turning on and dancing along to a song that's just fun, pure and simple. Plus, K-pop has actually helped me improve my vocabulary. After exploring some of Dong Bang Shin Ki's older songs, I now know how to say “I believe” in Korean, and I probably still wouldn't know “lie” - an important word in any language – if it wasn't for Big Bang.
Maybe I'm just trying to justify my changing musical tastes to myself. In any case, once I go back to America my love affair with K-pop will probably fade as a result of being out of direct contact with the culture in which it's embedded. So for now I'm putting away my guilt, warranted or unwarranted, and embracing K-pop, over-the-top fashion, and 21-year-old boys with frosted flat-ironed hair. I'm a 23-year-old American K-pop teeny-bopper, and I'm having a blast.
This weekend I made the trip up to Seoul, not only to have a relaxing weekend away from Hwasun but also to see the Olympic torch, which came through the city Sunday afternoon. You can read coverage and see a video of some of the more heated portions of the South Korea leg on BBC.com. (Since my camera's battery had died a painful death shortly before, I won't have pictures until I steal them from my friend.)
Since I had to come back to Hwasun to teach on Monday, I only went to see the torch at its starting point in Seoul, which was at the Olympic Park. I had mixed feelings about coming to see the torch - on one hand, this was a unique opportunity to be a part of the Olympics, which I think in general is a very positive event. On the other hand, I don't agree with China's policies in Tibet and Darfur. While I consider the China's Olympic games to be separate from China's government, I understand where the protesters around the world are coming from and think what they're doing is important. The more attention given to these issues, the better. So I felt a little guilty about attending the rally as merely a spectator, not a protester.
One of the girls I met up with in Seoul did, however, come with a "Free Tibet" sign, and was as far as I could tell the only one aside from a small group of protesters a few hundred meters down from us (more protesters showed up for other parts of the Seoul relay leg). At the park, we found a spot with a good view and waited for things to begin. The girl with the sign held it quietly, not saying or doing anything in particular. But we still managed to draw the ire of a group of Chinese supporters. It started as a small group, who told us that Tibet is and always has been a part of China; that it's already free. Then they started chanting "One China!" in loud voices, eventually drawing in more and more people until we were basically being shouted at by a huge sea of red and white. Eventually they stopped, after the girl with the sign stepped away from the area we were standing for a little while, so things wouldn't escalate too much. Since we had already attracted attention though, we got periodic visits from people taking photographs and holding their own signs up for us.
I have to make a comment about some of the signs I saw, because they really bothered me. On one side they would say, for example, "We want peace, we want one China." Generally a positive statement. On the other side, however, they would say things like, "Independence, no way, no way" or "We love Tibet because it's a part of China" - implying that Tibet as a separate entity wouldn't warrant their consideration or respect. If you're going to claim to promote peace, don't follow it up with a harsh political statement ("independence, no way") that in the end only feeds the violence.
Seeing the torch in Seoul was definitely a positive experience. I myself had come merely to experience the torch relay, not to make a political statement, so I enjoyed being a part of the event. I also learned what it's like to be shouted at by a large group of impassioned people, and, well, it's really scary. But it also makes me think about nationalism and how political opinions are formed. Also, witnessing a mass of people who have all come together for one reason and who care enough to drape themselves with flags, coordinate t-shirts, and paint their faces leaves a deep impression. Banners, cheering, chanting - it's hard not to get swept up in the enthusiasm. It's always a meaningful experience to see how people act, in both positive and negative ways, when they're passionate about something.
I accomplished a major victory within my homestay today. I washed the dishes with actual members of my host family in the house.
As soon as I moved into my homestay, it became clear to me that I was not expected to do any household chores beyond keeping my room relatively neat. Furthermore, if I tried to do anything to help out, I was immediately stopped. Even something as small as clearing the dishes from the table after dinner was all but impossible - as soon as I stood up, my family leapt into action, prying the bowls from my hands with horrified expressions and shoving me into the family room to watch television. No dishes, no laundry, nothing.
Now, I know this sounds like most 20-something recent college graduates' dreams come true, but it's actually very frustrating at times. I don't want to be a burden on my family and I want to help out with the things that I should be helping out with. Plus, it's nice to have the independence and sense of control that comes with cleaning one's own living space. Nevertheless, despite frequent efforts on my part, I am still allowed nowhere near the kitchen sink as long as my host mom is watching. And my host mom is a housewife, so she's watching quite a lot.
That's the thing about Korean housewives - or at least the one I live with. The house is absolutely Her Domain, and no one else shall enter Her Space without Her Permission. My host siblings do help out a little, but by and large my host mother is in complete control of Her Domain. I've managed to do small things around the house from time to time, but only when nobody else is home.
Then came my big break. This week my host mom is on a well-deserved vacation to Japan with some of her female friends - although this doesn't mean I was suddenly able to leap into cleaning action. Family friends have been coming over the past few days to take care of the kids, cook dinner, and clean up afterward. Efforts on my part to clear the table were again thwarted.
Today, however, it's just me and the kids. We ordered take-out food and watched a movie on TV. And when we were finished, as my host siblings folded the laundry, I walked over the kitchen sink, put on the rubber gloves, and turned on the water. Mina, the 14-year-old, of course tried to stop me, but I was already rinsing off the first spoon, and I convinced her that cleaning the dishes was no burden to me, and that I was happy to do it.
I doubt my newfound freedom to clean the house will continue once my host mom returns. My family still thinks of me as relatively young and unaccustomed to taking care of myself and my own chores, and I know they worry about life with them being difficult for me. I am grateful, though, that my host mom is getting some well-needed rest and that I was able to give back to the family just once. And who knows -today just might set a precedent for future Sundays home alone with the host kids.
If you're reading this post, and this is not your first time visiting my blog, you'll notice that I've changed things a bit. I have a new (and better) title after changing the word "in" to "versus." That's right, this blog is now Anna vs. Korea. Shocking, if not revolutionary. I changed the title not only because the old one was boring, but also because I think it will allow me to have an actual theme to center my blog around. Writing about...random) stuff in my life here is well and good, but this might be a bit more fun. For me, anyway.
The tagline of the blog is "the struggle for the heart, mind, and sometimes wallet of an American girl living and teaching in Korea." I knew that I would change as a result of coming here, but it's been interesting to see the parts of the culture that have affected me and how, exactly they have affected me. These observations will now be the focus of this blog, although I expect my posts won't change a whole lot. Also, I should say that my new theme is in no way antagonistic towards Korea or Korean culture. I love it here and I have a lot of respect for this country and these people, and I hope that, despite the numerous challenges I face, my respect is reflected in my blog.
Also, soon I'm going to try writing a bit more about pop culture stuff, particularly music and dramas, since this is one of my most important tools in engaging with my students and the general culture here. First up: the song (songs?) that started me down the road of Korean popular music. Hopefully I'll actually start posting about once a week or so, like I said I would do way back in November. We'll see.
I'd say I'm a somewhat rare 23-year-old in that up until this year, I had never spent a birthday completely away from home. Throughout college my birthday always fell right around the beginning of spring break, so even when my birthday was technicaly spent at school I would have a smaller family celebration a few days later. About a month ago, it occurred to me that this year I was completely on my own, away from not only my family but all the people I had grown close to in college. I assumed that I would spend the day quietly, probably have cake with my host family, maybe bring a small treat to school to share with other people. I wasn't really comfortable with the idea of broadcasting my birthday around school.
Well, imagine my surprise when my birthday turned out to be one of my best days in Korea so far, and one of my best birthday ever.
At the beginning of the semester, during my first classes with my new first-grade students, I told them when my birthday was, figuring I could at least wring a couple of "happy birthday"s out of them on the day of. I also told my Conversation Club when we were talking about our favorite parts of spring. So I knew going into school that I had told a fair number of my students, and that some might even remember.
The day started with a box of cookies from one of my new first-graders (an absolutely adorable girl with freckles and huge glasses) and her mother, who happens to be one of the other English teachers at my school. I had a good morning, and a lot of my students wished me happy birthday in the hallways. I love talking with my students, and there's nothing quite like the feeling of being looked up to and appreciated by them. Anyway, so far, it had been a good day and about what I expected.
Then came my daily lunchtime Conversation Club. In the room where we meet and talk everyday, the students had written "Happy Birthday Anna!" on the whiteboard. I shared the Thin Mints my parents had mailed to me (another great birthday surprise!) and just as we were settling down to talk about our topic of the day, they turned off the lights and started the real party, complete with a birthday cake and gift - perhaps the best gift I've ever gotten. All of my Club students, whom I've gotten to know very well over the past seven months, had written letters to me. The letters were perfectly representative of my students - intelligent, funny, incredibly sweet. I seriously almost started crying, because even though I'm still far from a good teacher, I love teaching my kids and hope I've been able to help them, even a little bit. My great day continued the very next period, when I walked into one of my all-girl first-grade classes to a a chorus of "Happy Birthday."
That afternoon I had my second birthday cake of the day with the other teachers at my school. I had brought the cake to share with them, and it was a great chance to chat with some teachers whom I haven't spoken to much due to the language barrier. See, not only do I have awesome and friendly students, but awesome and friendly co-workers, too.
I went home that afternoon and took a much-needed nap, but not before receing gifts from my host sisters - a datebook and a mirror, both heavily adorned with the color pink and an almost illegal levelf cuteness. I love them. After my nap, my host family ordered pizza for - having decided that surely the American needs pizza on her birthday in lieu of the traditional Korean seaweed soup. I also had my third birthday cake of the day (see, if you reach three cakes in one day, you've automatically had a great, if not awesome, birthday.) If my Club students gave me one of the better presents I've ever gotten, my 4-year-old host brother sang me the best version of "Happy Birthday" I've ever heard. He sang the first two lines in English, but he didn't know the rest of the words, so he switched to Korean halfway through. He then, of course, decided that it was his job to blow out all the candles for me, and I was laughing too hard to sneak in and get even one of them myself. The entire scene was adorable and all-around fantastic.
And that is the story of my best birthday ever. It wasn't overblown, but it was sweet and fun, and really reminded me how lucky I am to be surrounded by the people in my life right now. It also reminded me of when I was young and would think about how cool a total surprise party would be. And surprise parties are great - but it's even better, I learned, to make your birthday special yourself. I'm so glad I brought the cake for the teachers to share, because it was me inviting them to share my "important" day with me, and that I told my students about my birthday. That way, we got to have some fun together and make it more than just a boring day at school for everyone involved.
Thanks, Korea. I definitely won't forget my 23rd birthday - even though I'm technically 24 in Korean years. (No, I don't completely understand it either.)
