MUDFEST

There is an annual festivalheld in the city of Boryeong, Korea, whose sole purpose is to get drunk and play in the mud. It started out years ago simply as a promotional event for this "cosmetic, healthy mud," but as the years passed, more and more foreigners started showing up and just trying to get as muddy as possible. That is how it became "Mudfest," a huge mud festival that thousands of foreigners and Koreans (but mostly foreigners) show up to in order to play, party, and get very muddy.

This past weekend was the festival (it lasts for two weekends) and the Jinju crew decided to make a trip of it. We rented a Noraebong bus (Karaoke bus) for the four hour trip so that time would fly by as everyone drank, sang, and danced. It was quite the sight. When we got to Boryeong, we had rented out one floor of a Pension, which was just a few rooms with floor space and some blankets, and everyone packed in and claimed a spot on the floor. Obviously a group of 22+ yr. olds were not about to call it a night, so everyone headed down to the beach from there (now midnight) and began splashing around in the ocean. Because of the big event, the whole city was awake the whole night, full of foreigners from everywhere.

The next morning everyone got up and headed down the beach to the festival. It consisted of plenty of inflatable bounce obstacle course things filled with mud for races, a huge slide which ended in a big puddle of mud, numerous pools of mud where people packed in for mud wrestling, a jail where you could get hosed down with mud, some stalls where, if you aren't a fan of brown, you could get painted all different colors, and then a large area where all the thick mud was dumped for an ongoing mud fight. There was also a stage with a couple mc's, music blaring, and plenty of drunk foreigners dancing around, covered inmud. The whole thing was pretty amazing, including the part when a very old, drunk Korean man attempted to make out with me. My favorite foreigners had to be the group of South Africans, all belligerently drunk the entire weekend and wearing an odd assortment of torn clothes and matching fake tattoos. The "paparazzi" were everywhere, taking pictures of the muddiest, drunkest foreigners. It was great 'cause the entire city looked as though it had been taken over by zombies :). The beach right below the mud festival was packed all day as well, as when people got sick of being caked in mud, they would just jump in the ocean.

After spending an entire day covered in mud, we finished by washing off in the ocean until everyone got kicked out of the water by the po-po because the waves were getting rough. That night the city was alive again with so many foreigners wandering around, it was the first time since arriving here that I have understood everyone around me. The next day the beach was littered with all kinds of cameras, money, shoes, etc. but most were broken and torn. In the afternoon the sun decided to show up for the first time that weekend, so the beaches quickly became PACKED. Anyway, that was my exciting weekend at Mudfest. Now I just have to get through this week of teaching and it's on to Thailand!

Teaching kindergarten without a voice is a nightmare

This past week I've been sick with some kind of flu, probably the initiation sickness that all teachers get when arriving in South Korea. At the start of last week I woke up and ended up throwing up all morning, having an extremely sore throat, runny nose, and fever. I hadn't been able to sleep in two nights as a result. I was online and my friend, Christina, advised me to go to the hospital. I'm used to living in a culture where you don't go to the hospital unless you're dying or something, as it's so expensive and many times unnecessary, but here in Korea things are different. The people go to the hospital for everything, and it's incredibly cheap. You know your in a different culture when you're walking down the street and there are two men limping along in front of you wearing hospital gowns, bandages, and crutches (just noticed the one guy isn't acting so normal, either), or when you're in the grocery store and there's a woman pushing not only her grocery cart, but an IV stand as well, along side her. I've seen this a lot since getting here- people just take their IVs, needle, bag, stand and all, and walk out on the street or go shopping. My co-worker/friend, Paula, likes to say it's sort of a fashion statement here.

Anyway, I took my friend's advice, called up my co-worker, Dave, and asked him to show me where the hospital is. He took me there, asked for an English-speaking receptionist, and then went back home. I thought I'd be fine, seeing as there was an English speaker, but as soon as Dave left they ushered me into another room where a NON-English-speaking doctor was waiting, and left me there. I sat there wondering how I was going to communicate to him what was wrong, and then became terrified thinking, "what if they treat me for something I don't have, or give me a shot or something?" The doctor started asking me all kinds of questions in Korean, and I just kept nodding yes to everything and then pointing to my throat (that's the short version, anyway. I'll save you the detailed hand motions and confusion that I should be used to by now). He did some tests to check me out, typed something into the computer and then sent me back out. I found the English-speaker, and he told me my doctor's bill is 14,000 won (about $14) and printed out the paper the doctor had sent over, which turned out to be my prescription. He then pointed me in the direction of the pharmacy and sent me to get my medicine. I walked to the pharmacy, showed them my prescription, and then waited until they came back out with two bottles of liquid and a string of packaged pills. The pharmacist then went about trying to explain to me what I should do with the medicine (another round of confusing hand motions and words I didn't understand) and I just kept nodding and hoping I'd be able to figure it out on my own. This is all guesswork, but I think one was a cough syrup, one was a minty liquid for gargling (I'd bet it was just mouthwash), and then the pills were antibiotics that I guessed I was supposed to take three times a day, according to other teachers who had been sick. That bill came out to 11,000 won ($11).

The next day my voice was coming and going, and I could barely squeak out words. Nevertheless, I had to go in and teach kindergarten, which requires me to read, sing, and dance. I tried my best to do all of this with a little help from cds, and when my voice failed me completely, I gave the kids a page to color, from the lesson. Later that day, when I went in for my afternoon classes, my boss called me in and said he had received a complaint about my teaching from the kindergarten director (who wasn't even there!). She had written him a letter saying that it is not good for the kids to just color, and that the teacher needs to be more interactive with them. I was pretty mad and attempted to tell/show him (my attempt was proof enough) why I was not able to sing to the kids for the ENTIRE class time. He started laughing and said he would explain to her my situation and that he understands but since it's business, they probably wouldn't care. He told me to just have my kids do writing exercises for my afternoon classes so I wouldn't have to talk, even though I knew that would be impossible since my kids need to hear me yell before they will do anything productive. I asked him what I should do about kindergarten the next morning if my voice was still gone, and he told me to ask my co-worker, Dave, to take over for me. Dave hated that, of course, and tried to get the class cancelled, but these Koreans are crazy and can't cancel one kindergarten class, even if the teacher is sick. Dave ended up taking it over for me and then the rest of the day kept saying that he felt like he was getting a sore throat, too (I'm convinced this was just his way of getting out of another day of kindergarten). My boss let me leave my afternoon classes early that day, and pulled me aside to tell me to call Dave again in the morning, because he wouldn't say no to me. After I left the building, I got a text form the boss which said "if you call Dave, don't tell him about me." The thing you have to understand here is that my boss and Dave have a very interesting relationship. My boss really values Dave as a teacher, so he will do anything to keep Dave happy and not upset him. Dave knows this but will still do anything Mr. Lee asks him to do, he'll just complain as he does it. Anyway, the next day came and I was feeling a little better so I decided to avoid any Dave/Mr. Lee drama and take the classes myself. I'm still coughing but at least I can yell at my kids again :).

Pig liver and iced noodles

I'm getting used to the constant miscommunication here, as it seems to happen to me every day. Not only was I ready to move out of my apartment mid-week, on July 1st, when my boss had apparently tried to tell me July 4th ("July firth" is how that one happened), but I also wasted a good 15 minutes of class time earlier this week, thanks to the language barrier. One of my students walked into class half an hour late so I said, "where have you been?" She looked at me, bewildered, sat down, and then started telling me that her name is not Ben, it's Ashley, and that Ben was not in this class. I didn't make the connection, so I told her I know her name is Ashley, and I asked her why she was telling me about Ben. She started speaking to the class in Korean and then the entire class spent the next few minutes trying to explain to me that Ben was not in our class. I looked through the attendance sheet to see if there was a Ben, but there wasn't. I kept telling them that I know Ben isn't in this class, and asking them why they were talking about him, and they kept trying to tell me that I was the one who had asked about Ben in the first place. We were all confused until the late girl finally got up and said "teacher, I walk in and you say to me where Ben?" At that it finally clicked and I just started laughing. When I could control it, I explained to her that I had asked "where have you been?" as in, "Where were you?" not, "where's Ben."

At least in those situations both parties knew some English. My current situation lacks that factor.

Today I was moved out of my lovely, spacious apartment and into a different lovely, spacious apartment. They are both in the same gated area, so still walking distance from my Hogwan (academy I teach at...and don't assume any of this is spelled correctly). The difference is that I'm sharing this new one with a Hagima (Ha-ji-ma), which is a Korean grandmother, who speaks zero English. Since I speak zero Korean, aside from kamsahamnida (thank you) and juseyo (please give me?), we are unable to communicate with each other without the use of hand gestures, and so far those haven't gotten me anywhere either. I'm told this arrangement can be either temporary, until August when another apartment opens up, or permanent, depending on what I want. My boss is trying hard to sell me on this set up and keeps telling me this is the best thing for me, but I am far from sold on it. While he was helping me move in, he kept pointing out the beautiful, traditional furniture, and saying this situation is the best way for me to learn Korean. He also kept trying to tell me, in whispers, how this family is very influential and a friendship with them would be beneficial to me. Of course, my staying here is free so he wouldn't have to put up rent money each month, either. As much as I want to help him out in this, I just can't see myself ever being at ease here or enjoying it. First of all, this Korean grandmother, while very generous, is far from the soft-spoken, nice, feeble, old grandmother-type. She is very strong willed and when she talks to me I feel as though she is yelling at me. It doesn't help that I don't understand her and she thinks she can resolve that problem by repeating herself over and over. Second of all, I have no internet here. Obviously I need internet in order to communicate with my favorite people on the other side of the world :). I also don't know how this works with her being a grandmother and me being a 22 year-old who likes to stay out late with friends (since I doubt I'll be able to convince anyone to come hang out here). Is she a light sleeper who is going to wake up when the 3 (yes THREE, including a code) locks on the door click open? I guess I won't know until I try coming in from the late showing of Eclipse this Thursday! Needless to say, I'm going to make the most of the situation while I'm in it, and hope that I'll be out of it soon!

Anyway, none of that has anything to do with the title this post, so I'll get to that now. The grandmother I'm living with is the grandmother of one of my students, who was here with her mother today to welcome me. After I moved all of my stuff in, they told me I was going out to eat with their family. They took me to a Korean bbq restaurant, where you sit on the floor at low tables. The family consisted of my student, Melissa, her mother, father, 9 month old brother, and her grandmother (my new roommate). Melissa was the only one that knew any English, and only as much as she had learned at our Hogwan in the past few months. The conversation was pretty comical, to say the least. The main course that I was treated to was pig liver, cooked in front of us and then cut into bite size pieces. They kept putting pieces on my plate so I kept eating, and it was actually pretty good. They put a bunch of other things on my plate too, and I still don't know what any of it was. After that they ordered me iced noodles, which is supposed to be a favorite in Jinju. It was literally a big bowl of ice with buckwheat noodles in it, and then kimchi, some sauce, and an egg on top. I'm still getting used to using chopsticks so noodles take me forever to eat, and the ice made it even more difficult. At least it all tasted good.