Swine Flu Fashion

Last week, 60 plus students in my school were out with the swine flu, so for the past two weeks we have all had to wear surgical masks. It's pretty obnoxious and can be extremely difficult to keep myself from tearing the thing off in complete frustration as I attempt in vain to use my muffled voice to keep the attention of 45 sixteen-year-olds who are currently in the throes of Korean senioritis (it hits early here because of the amount of pressure put on where a student goes and how hard they work in highschool). Nonetheless, since the school principal makes at least three announcements a day reminding students to wear their masks, and all the other teachers are very strict on enforcing the mask-at-all-times rule, I know that I must, at the very least, try to set a good example by wearing my own. If I thought it would make a difference I might cite that the "CDC does not recommend the routine use of personal protective equipment, such as ...surgical masks, for protection against influenza exposure." But, alas, this is not home, and it would not, so I've resigned myself to my fate (I just love to be over-dramatic :P).

There is one small factor that does make the mask requirement a little more tolerable. Being that we are talking about middle school students in Korea-- the land of Hello Kitty lovers and all things cutesy-- it is obvious that plain surgical masks would never do. Plus, since the students are allowed to purchase their own masks rather than wear school issued ones, the masks provide them with their only chance to assert their individuality through fashion in a school where they are all required to wear the same uniform and the girls are all made to wear the same layerless bob and cropped bangs that the boys very disdainfully refer to as "the Choji cut." Thus, mask designs range in everything from pig snouts and whiskers to faux Burberry to wildly creative doodles drawn on with magic marker.

Although I couldn't take pictures of my own students in their masks, and these people don't look nearly as cute or as hilarious as my kids, the photos below give a bit of an idea of what I get to look out at as I try to conduct class everyday.



At least I have a mask of my own to hide behind when I can't help but burst into silent laughter at the sight of them. Sometimes it's the little things that brighten my day.

Boo!

Halloween this year came and went for me without much notice. As much as I love anything to do with fall and pumpkins and seeing kids and animals dressed up in cute outfits, I've never been that into celebrating the holiday myself (well, except for in college, but that is mainly because festivities on Franklin Street were kind of an obligatory part of the UNC experience :) ). And, being that Halloween is a Western tradition, it's not such a big deal to Koreans either. Yes, many English language hagwons held Halloween parties where the younger kids had the opportunity to go trick-or-treating-- even my own students, who are between the ages of 14 and 17, mind you, came up to me in the halls yelling "trick or treat" and hoping for candy-- and many young people, both foreigners and Koreans, who frequent the Itaewon and Hongdae bar scenes in Seoul did dress up in costumes for a night of celebration and bar hopping. However, aside from these instances where Western and American culture is "in," Halloween is not generally celebrated in Korea. Which is fine by me.

However, when I saw this pic of a friend of mine from the States who dressed up as an Asian tourist, I just had to post it.


So on point-- captures the stereotype perfectly.

Made me wonder if anyone here in Korea has ever dressed up as a Western tourist for Halloween, and what exactly that costume would entail. Based on what I know of Korean stereotypes about Americans, I imagine they might don a nasty pair of flip-flops, a worn-out backpack and a rather sizable beer gut...

Sweet November

I don't know how many of you have seen the movie Sweet November, but I watched it for the first time a couple weeks ago when I wasn't feeling well and was forced to take a sick day from school. I couldn't actually remember having heard of the movie before, but I wanted something sweet, warm and fall-like to make me feel better, and the title sounded promising. The storyline of the movie follows the journey of a workaholic named Nelson who, in a single day, loses everything that matters most to him-- his job, his girlfriend and his dignity. He accepts an invitation to stay with a relative stranger who he met only a few days before in a chance encounter at the DMV. She is a woman who habitually opens up her home and heart to men who "need her help", the one condition being that he stay just for one month, at which point their relationship would end. Nelson becomes her "November" project. They live together and behave as a couple, getting to know one another intimately. Of course, she changes him as she set out to do, but for the first time she is deeply affected as well.

It's actually not a very good movie, and when I say that, you should really believe me; I normally love this type of syrupy-sweet and overly dramatic/sad/romantic/absurd storyline, but this movie barely managed to keep my attention. I don't think I would have finished it had it not been for the fact that I was feeling too sick to be motivated to get up and turn it off. (Just as a side note, and to be fair to anyone out there who loves this movie and thinks that I am being a little too harsh, I have to admit that it is entirely possible that my unabashed and long-standing disdain for Keanu Reeves' acting [in]abilities may have unfairly influenced my perception of the film's quality.)

If you are reading right now, you are probably wondering if all this rambling about a mediocre chick-flick is actually leading somewhere and what in the world it has to do with my life in Korea. I'm getting there, I promise. As much as I found Sweet November to be an unsatisfying film, there are elements at the core of the movie's message that I appreciated and could relate to well. Keanu Reeves' character in the movie starts off with his priorities way off base, and he is suffering greatly for it. It is only through radically altering his lifestyle-- both involuntarily and voluntarily having stripped away the things that had over-crowded his life and that had ultimately caused him to be blind to the things in life that truly mattered-- that he was changed. The heart of the movie is about re-aligning one's priorities, freeing oneself from distractions, and becoming the kind of person who both experiences and is invested in the fullness of life, love and relationships.

And it is because of this-- and because it is November-- that I have decided to informally adopt the same title, "Sweet November," for a personal project that I will be embarking on for the next month of my time here in Korea. I am seeking transformation and a re-alignment of my priorities, and am attempting to do this by somewhat forcefully altering my lifestyle for a single month-- a month that will hopefully push me to grow and to truly consider what I value most.

On Sunday November 1st I began a one month period of refusing to spend money on myself. I have strictly budgeted for a month's worth of food and transportation expenses, and beyond that, will not allow myself to make other purchases. I know that this is not the most unique or extreme idea, and maybe this would seem quite easy to some people, but it is very appropriate for me right now. As some of you already know, when I came to Korea, I went through a difficult period of realization about myself, where I had been placing my trust and what I had been prioritizing in my life. I realized that over the past couple years, while I have attempted to keep up the appearance of living a life in line with my proclaimed values, in actuality I was using my work and my relationships with others to mask a heart that was far from focused on loving God and loving others-- a lie that most glaringly manifested itself in the way that I chose to spend my money.

Ironically, before coming to Korea I thought that getting away from America and it's consumer culture and putting myself in a new environment, would make it easy for me to re-make myself and put my personal life-- and specifically my spending habits-- more in line with my professed values. However, Korea is, like the US, quite a materialistic culture. And on top of that, Koreans have really great fashion sense, making shopping that much more tempting for me. All of the clothes, shoes and jewelry sold here for women are very feminine, as well as fashion forward, and I absolutely love it. The obsession with fashion here is catching. A friend of mine recently admitted to being caught by her husband taking covert pictures of women on the subway in order to document their outfits, and I had to admit that I had been tempted to do the same thing on more than one occassion. (Of course, I also caught my students taking pictures of a pair of purple boots that I wore to school last week, so maybe people wouldn't consider it rude here. In general, Koreans are very honest and straightforward about expressing whether they like-- or don't like-- some aspect of a person's appearance, whether you are a friend or a stranger.) I love to go out window shopping or people watching here in Korea, simply to soak in all of the frilly/chic adorableness that abounds.

But "soaking it all in" is what has always been my problem. Not only do I take in the sights, but I passively soak in the attitude of the world around me when it comes to consumerism, adopting it for myself, rather than actively striving to live in a way that is not only thoughtful, responsible and socially-conscious, but that is loving, generous and sacrificial.

I anticipate that this month will hold for me both difficult lessons and sweet treasures. I am only 4 days in and have already come up with at least 5 things (two of them rather sizable) that, had I not previously made this commitment, I would have gone out and bought, easily convincing myself that I needed the item. And I actually found it legitimately difficult to stop myself, even though I had already made up my mind what I was going to do-- which has shown me just how deeply these selfish urges are ingrained in my attitude and behaviors. I am sure that I will continue to learn much more about myself as the month continues on, and I hope and pray that the lessons lead to more permanent change.

(I'll try to post my reflections as they arise from my Sweet November project to my other blog, To Fight for Love.)

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 :)