Saturday, October 17, 2009

NY Times on the plight of unwed mothers in Korea

From time to time I will post articles and links that are relevant to South Korea that I find either fun, interesting, or thought-provoking...

Below is a New York Times article published last week worth reading for those interested in Korea, adoption, and/or the plight of women around the world:

Group Resists Korean Stigma for Unwed Mothers

The article gives a glimpse into the social dynamics of the family in Korea and female reproductive rights here, as well as offers a more difficult but permanent and foundational alternative to the "rescue" mentality of international adoption.



Wednesday, October 7, 2009

What do Martin Luther King, Jr. and King Sejong have in common?


Min-su:
Who's that in the picture?

Cathy: That's Martin Luther King, Jr. Can't you recognize him?
Min-su: Of course, I've heard of him. I just never saw his picture.
Cathy: It's terrible that he was murdered, isn't it?
Min-su: Yes, but he did a lot with his life.
Cathy: Yes! It would be hard to imagine the U.S. today without him.
Min-su: What do you mean? I don't follow. He's dead right?
Cathy: Yes, but the effects of his life live on after him.
Min-su: I think I get it. Like King Sejong and hangeul.
Cathy: Yes. Without them, the world would be a very different place.

The dialogue above is from the lesson that I am teaching my 9th grade students this week. If I'm being honest, I have to admit-- though it embarrasses me now-- that when I first read this dialogue I couldn't help but snicker a little. The sheer improbability of this conversation and it's awkward wording aside, I found it very unlikely that a comparison could legitimately be made between the powerful and influential civil rights activist-- whose life impacted the collective psyche of a nation, providing hope and power to a increasingly tired and restless people, motivating racial reconciliation, calling for justice and altering the moral trajectory of America-- and the king who supposedly single-handedly created Korea's current written language. Undoubtedly in my mind the world would have been a different place without the work of Dr. King, but would Korea, never mind the whole world, truly be a different place if Koreans had just ended up using some other written form instead?

The mention of King Sejong in my students' textbook next to that of Martin Luther King, Jr. was mainly humorous to me as a manifestation of what I considered to be a slightly overly enthusiastic, though somewhat endearing (I know, how condescending can I get?), pride that Korean's express when talking about the king's invention of hangeul. My students were all shocked, for instance, to learn that before coming to Korea I had no idea who King Sejong was-- in fact, some of them even seemed a little offended. And I don't blame them; in spite of my biological ties to Korea, I had entered their country making blind assumptions about overzealous Korean national pride, without taking the time to learn about the historical figures and social developments that are most important to the people here.

My attitude remained unchanged until this past week when I actually learned a little something about King Sejong and the invention of hangeul at the GEPIK cultural orientation. And it turns out that there is a lot more to the story than I had originally picked up on.

The beauty of the language itself lies in its simplicity and practicality. It consists of only 24 letters total-- 10 vowels and 14 consonants. The written form of the consonants are loosely based on the shape or position of the teeth, mouth and throat when pronouncing the the sound, and it truly doesn't take more than a single afternoon of memorization to learn to read and pronounce the hangeul script. However, it is not simply the mechanics of the language, but the circumstances under which it arose and the corresponding socio-cultual accomplishments that it's introduction served, that make King Sejong's contribution so significant.

While it is not completely certain that King Sejong participated directly in the creation of the written language, he was atleast the one responsible for overseeing the project, and, I imagine, as king, he had a great deal of sway in the outcome. Certainly without his power and influence the project would never have come to fruition, as most aristocrats and power-holders in the kingdom were adamantly opposed to the the use of a new phonetic script in favor of the Chinese system currently in use by the government and high society. However, that system left the working-class majority of the kingdom's population illiterate. And King Sejong, demonstrating that he valued the empowerment of the lower classes through literacy to a much higher degree than he valued the maintenance of his own power structures, insisted on the creation of hangeul for the express purpose of making it possible for every person to be able to quickly and easily learn how to read and write-- no matter their life stage, social status or educational background. In his insistence upon the creation of hangeul, the king was working to empower the poor and to fight inequality.

Further, he wished to help create a cultural identity for the nation. Not only were Chinese characters often ill-adapted for the patterns and structures of Korean speech, but their use effectively shone a constant light on the impositon of a foreign mode of expression on the Korean people, which limited their ability to express themselves and resticted their forms of thinking. Sejong's contribution of a written language that was accessible to all Koreans from every level of society, then, helped promote a new level of freedom in expression that was unencumbered by alien modes of communication. And in so doing, it provided a basis for a renewal of shared cultural identity among the Korean people and reinforced the independence of Korea as a nation.

Building community and identity, promoting free expression, empowering the poor and opressed and taking steps to bridge inequality: this is all most certainly world changing stuff, and in light of it all, King Sejong and his contributions through the creation of hangeul are more than deserving of the credit that they are given. I can understand why it would be hard indeed to imagine Korea today without him...

This whole process of realization for me has expemplified one of the best, as well as the most painful, things about traveling overseas; and that is, that you get to really learn a lot about yourself-- you come face to face with your own presuppositions, assumptions and prejudices, all of which have an unnerving tendency to rear their heads in unexpected places. However, in encountering them head on and allowing them to come to light you are able to learn, stretch and grow. And that is an opportunity that I'm very thankful to have been given.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Dining out in Korea: A near transcendental experience

A friend of mine who I studied with in Jordan during my last summer of college recently sent me this article articulating the divine experience that is shawarma-- a ridiculously greasy and delicious food that we fell head over heels in love with while living in the Middle East. The article is quick, poignant and smart, but mostly entertaining-- worth the read.

I love when the author says that he made it his mission to "teach people about higher eating." He taught his friends that shawarma can become a spiritual vehicle by simply pausing to say "'Isn't it great that I can live in a world world where I can have an experience like shawarma?' and then inhal[ing]."

Dining out in Korea, with all of the beauty and yummy-ness that it entails, encourages this kind of trancendence through eating. Korean food, in both it's presentation and in the way that it is eaten, is designed to make eating an experience for both the collective and the individual, with the diners' enjoyment rather than mere sustenance as it's end goal; and this is true of restaurants from the lowest end to the highest. Luckily, unlike shawarma, Korean food also happens to be generally quite healthy.

When a typical Korean meal is served it usually consists of a main dish-- usually meat along with stew-- served alongside many different banchan, or small side dishes, which are spread across the center of the table to be shared by all. Individual bowls of rice and soup are also given to each diner. The effect, with such a wide array of beautiful colors and savory flavors, is something like edible artwork. And in Korea, there is no need to worry about committing a faux pas by mixing together foods that don't go together-- the banchan, rice, and main dish can and should all be combined in any way that pleases the eater's palate.

When dining at one of Korea's many more traditional style restaurants, it is typical to take one's shoes off and sit on the floor at a low table to enjoy a meal. And while it is certainly true that dining out is a collective experience here, Koreans do not feel the same need to fill the silence during mealtimes with endless banter and small talk as we do in the US. They focus more instead on the task at hand-- the task of fully experiencing the flavors that have been set before them. I've never been one to feel uncomfortable with silence, especially in a situation where I know that it is the cultural norm, and in fact, I find it quite nice; its sort of like we are acknowledging by our silence that we are all bonded with a common purpose for that thirty minutes to an hour of transcendence via kimchi.

I can't help myself now from sharing with you just a small sampling of some of my favorite Korean foods. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can at least appreciate the beauty of these divine dishes...


Bibimbap: Always a miguk (American) crowd-pleaser, bibimbap literally means mixed-up rice. It is served as seen in the picture in a bowl with rice on the bottom and an array of vegetables, and sometimes meat and egg, on the top. Koreans usually add hot pepper paste to spice up the taste before mixing all of the ingredients together and diving in. Apparently it is popular among young girls who are on diets in Korea, which is amazing because it certainly doesn't taste like diet food.
(image source: dineouthere)



Korean barbeque: Whether you are enjoying samgyeopsal (pork) or galbi (beef), Korean barbeque is always the perfect meal to share with friends. This photo gives you an idea of the typical spread of yummy fresh vegetable banchan that accompany Korean barbeque.






Haemul Maeuntang: Seafood dishes are quite popular on the Korean peninsula, and this spicy seafood stew is no exception. It can be served alone with just rice and banchan, or alongside another main dish, such as sashimi (raw fish). Many Koreans believe that eating warm and spicy food can balance your internal temperature on a hot day, so it isn't surprising that these kinds of stews are popular year round.





Kimchi: I know that I've mentioned it before, but as the official staple of Korean cuisine I felt it deserved another shout-out. An acquired taste for many, kimchi was traditionally made in large batches and then fermented underground in preparation for the winter-- a process no longer necessary thanks to refrigeration. In Korea, anything can be flavored with kimchi: kimchi chigae (soup), kimchi ramen, kimchi spring rolls, kimchi dumplings, barbeque kimchi.. the list goes on and probably includes things that I have never heard or dreamed of.



Gimbap: A popular fast food in Korea, gimbap wraps into a thin layer of gim (salted dried seaweed) all of the essential elements that make Korean food the wonderful experience it is. In some ways it is similar to sushi, but unlike sushi gimbap never contains raw fish and is prepared with sesame oil rather than rice vinegar.





Tteokbokki: Another popular snack food in Korea, tteokbokki is a favorite of both mine and my students. It consists of mainly rice cakes, smothered in a sauce made from gochujang, a spicy chili pepper paste.







Nokdumuk: This dish is a made from mung bean starch. The cool jelly consistency combined with the spicy pepper and soysauce flavor of the sauce may be difficult to adjust to for some, but it has been a favorite dish of mine since I was a little girl.








Hangwa: A variety of traditional Korean confectionery treats, hangwa are generally made from grains, honey, flower, sugar and a combination of fruits and edible roots. They are never too sweet and always tasty with tea or mildly sweet rice water.






Daechu cha: This fruity tea is full of warm flavors. Now that it is getting a little cooler and feeling fall-like, I regularly make myself a cup of this tea in my office while at work; it gives me something nice to sip on while doing the mundane tasks of lesson planning or tabulating student scores.






Thinking back now, I can't recall a time where I have ever been asked to meet a Korean person for lunch or dinner without being proffered by the phrase "let's enjoy a meal together." And I can see why-- sharing a meal in Korea is a joy inducing experience indeed. :)


(Unless otherwise noted, all photos were taken from the Wikimedia Commons and are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 2.0.)


Sunday, October 4, 2009

Happy Chuseok!


This past weekend was Chuseok, or the Full Moon Harvest Celebration-- one of the two biggest holidays in Korea. Emerging as a custom of ancient agrarian society, it is the day that Koreans have traditionally set aside to give thanks to their ancestors for the year's harvest and to share their abundance with neighbors, family and friends.

I celebrated Chuseok with family in the neighboring city of Suwon. Customarily, on Chuseok morning families hold memorial services for their ancestors and visit ancestral graves, but the family members that I stayed with are not so traditional. Celebrating Chuseok with them was much more like celbrating Thanksgiving at home. We spent the majority of the day simply enjoying one anothers company, eating a lot, playing Go-Stop, watching TV and playing the Wii-- in fact, just substitue Rook for Go-Stop and add in a family football game, and it would sound exactly the same as a Reese-Green-Hooke family Thanksgiving.

The representative foods of Chuseok are freshly harvested rice, fresh fruits, and songpyeon, a tasty kind of rice cake. Click on the photo to read more about the varieties of songpyeon-- from acorn, to pumpkin, to clam-- and to see the recipe for making it at home.


I also visited Hwaseong Palace and Hangook Minseokcheon Korean Folk Village while staying with my family for Chuseok. Both are sort-of open air museums displaying how Koreans lived in the past and are common tourist attractions, so I first assumed my family was only visiting them for my benefit. However, there were actually a ton of people-- and only a few appeared to be foreigners-- who were touring these places with their families on Chuseok. I guess it makes sense; after all, Chuseok is a day to give thanks, but also to remember your ancestors and celebrate your history.

Many of the families who were out had younger children with them and were dressed in colorful hanboks, or traditional Korean clothing, which was fun to see. Hanboks are so beautiful-- and I have decided that that is the one and only souvenier that I want to bring back home with me from Korea. I'll just have to make sure to get my hambok before Seollal (New Years), though, because that is Korea's next big holiday and will be one of my only legitimate chances to wear it here. I'm definitely already looking forward to experiencing it :)

Thursday, October 1, 2009

GEPIK Orientation

I have spent the past three days at an orientation for new native English teachers teaching in the Gyeonggi province public secondary schools. We stayed at a conference center located way out in the middle of nowhere (somewhere to the southwest of where I live I think? maybe...) and attended a ton of lectures and workshops to educate us about teaching English in Korea.

I was wary that this would be nothing more than a time-consuming hoop to jump through, but it turned out to be surprisingly beneficial. My biggest complaint, in fact, is that I didn't receive the training-- or at least some version of it-- earlier on, or even before the semester began. I think I would have been better prepared for the task at hand and could have gone in with a better game-plan from the start had I known from the beginning some of the things that I learned at orientation. Then again, having first-hand knowledge of what we are up against made the conflict resolution and lesson planning small group sessions very useful.

Meeting so many foreign teachers who are currently in the same situation as me (brand-spanking new to teaching in Korean public schools) and being around them for such an extended period of time was a nice change of pace... I had forgotten what it was like to hear so much English around me. Orientation was a great opportunity for networking and making new friends, and especially helpful to be able to draw on one another's common experiences, as well as to discuss the challenges that were unique to each of our particular schools and situations. By the end of the three days, I was certainly ready to head home (the final day was stretched out much longer than was necessary), but I was feeling much more encouraged, motivated, better equipped and more confident in my abilities as a teacher than before.

A few orientation highlights...

Eatyourkimchi.com

I actually discovered this site early on in my stay in Korea. My dad, a former teacher, took pity on my lesson planning and class management woes and took it upon himself to help me look for creative classroom ideas online. Among the many resources that he pointed me to, he emailed me the link to a video about how to use middle school students' love for K-pop (see #3) to your advantage in the classroom. He also encouraged me to check out the site that it came from: eatyourkimchi.com-- a blog set up by a Canadian couple teaching ESL in Bucheon, South Korea (not far from where I live). I gave the site a cursory browse and found it entertaining, but didn't appreciate what a true gem it was until this weekend.

The makers of the site gave a lecture at the orientation, and it was the best one given, hands down. Not only was their lecture highly entertaining, but it was obvious that both speakers really love teaching in Korea, and their enthusiasm was catching. They gave a ton of practical ideas about how to transistion students into "English-mode," how to trick students into actually wanting to participate in class, and how to create more engaging lessons even when forced to use not-so-engaging text book material. The ideas were truly brilliant, and as they were being presented it was easy to imagine how well they would work in an actual classroom setting with my own students. Plus, each of the activities and games that required a ton of prep are downloadable from their website-- which is unbelievably helpful. But the best part was that the lecture sent my brain into overdrive and got me thinking of a million ways that I could use not just their ideas but the principles behind the ideas for other activities in my own classroom.

Introducing GEPIK and The History of English Language Curriculum in Korea

While certainly nowhere as entertaining as the lecture I described above, these two lectures gave me a much better understanding of the educational goals in Korea, why I was really brought here, and how the Korean government is hoping that native teachers like me can improve English education in Korea. I learned during my last internship, prior to coming to Korea, how important it is for me to be oriented towards the big-picture in my daily work-- I want to know how my work fits into bettering the lives of others and society as a whole, so that I don't get bogged down in the day-to-day. Maintaining my perspective by focusing on the big picture is one of the main ways that I am able to stay motivated to put forth my best effort in the face of the challenging and mundane, and that is something that I had not had in Korea up until this point. After these lectures, however, I now have a much better understanding of my role and of the expectations that not only my school but that the entire Korean educational system have with regard to native teachers in Korea, and thus have a much better understanding of what it is that I am working for and towards.

Small Groups

For a number of sessions, we were broken up into small groups for more interactive idea-sharing training. It was our opportunity to troubleshoot and brainstorm with other teachers as well as with GEPIK coordinators about how to deal with specific classroom issues that we had encountered. During these sessions we broke up into even smaller groups of 2 or 3 and participated in both conflict role play as well as demo lessons. We had the opportunity to role play any classroom conflict of our choice-- some of the conflicts we discussed included being pressured by the school to work extra hours, having certain expectations placed on you based on the methods of the school's former English teacher, and dealing with uncooperative or unhelpful co-teachers and school staff. Lesson topics, by contrast, were assigned at random. We had one evening to prepare and then deliver the lesson to the whole group, who were instructed not only to evaluate us but to test our classroom management skills by acting out periodically during out lesson. It was a great opportunity to draw on the ideas and expertise of other teachers and to get feedback on our own teaching, professionalism and classroom management techniques. Of all the lectures at the orientation, nothing did more to help build my confidence and to give me practical tools for the classroom than these sessions. I am grateful that the other teachers in my group put forth their best effort, because we were all able to get much more out of it as a result.

Cultural Orientation

Not all of the lectures pertained to teaching English in Korea directly. We also had a number of culture lessons. Going into them, I was completely sure that these would be a wash, but only because I was overly confident in my own knowledge of Korean culture; turns out I was able to learn a quite few new things. However, my favorite part of the cultural orientation was the traditional Korean dance that was performed for us-- not only because it was fun to watch, but because I had a really strong and unexpected emotional reaction to it; I even had to fight back tears. At first I didn't understand this, but upon reflection I think I reacted so strongly because, in the beginning, I simply appreciated the dance as something completely foreign and exotic, until it hit me that these traditions are a part of my family's history, and by extension a part of my history, in equal measure with Western traditions. For some reason, seeing that dance exposed a depth of longing that most of the time I don't even recognize in myself-- that is, it exposed the depth of my longing to mend the disconnect that I feel from my Korean heritage. These moments of recognition hit me periodically from time to time here, and heighten my level of appreciation for Korean culture, making me extraordinarily glad that I made the choice to spend the next year here. As a matter of fact, during orientation, I had a similar experience which gave me new appreciation for Korea's immense pride in King Sejong and hangeul (the Korean alphabet), but that is another post for another day...