Little Things I’ll Miss About Korea 

In the months before I left, I started writing a list of the many things I would miss about Korea. Also a list of things I never want to forget about my life in Korea.
  1. This corner spot at this cafe, where I go only when I’m by myself
  2. Killing time by people watching
  3. Sitting outside in the sunshine when it’s fall
  4. That moment when the first student comes into the classroom and says “good morning teacher”
  5. Watching the Seoul sunrise during summer runs when the streets are empty at 5 am
  6. When the soju bottle is empty and we look at each other and without a word know that we need another one
  7. That really friendly crossing guard at work that always smiles and says good morning; he always made our day
  8. All of the hilarious things that happen in a school day; things the kids say in English, Jana coming to my classroom and messing with the kids, eating snacks together, when Jean and Jana send their kids to my class with cups of 꿀떡, 편의점runs with Allie during break time
  9. My legs feeling sore when I sit down for the morning teacher meetings
  10. When restaurant workers know our order because we’re regulars
  11. Getting service
  12. Riding the bus to visit the first city I lived in; getting 계란빵 from the best stand ever in downtown Gumi
  13. Walking to work listening to 00000 Million after 7 am yoga
  14. Walking anywhere, anytime, with both headphones blasting, and never feeling unsafe
  15. Solo hikes in the fall
  16. Going to to run with my crew every Thursday night
  17. The routine that makes me love the life I created in this city
  18. That old man who I always see running on summer mornings (who sometimes passes me cause he’s a speed demon….)
  19. The grandpa who I always see walking on the track that waves and cheers for me when I run
  20. When the soccer players accidentally kick the ball toward me while I’m running on the track and I panic that it’s gonna hit me in the face, then it doesn’t and I laugh at myself
  21. When my crew or yoga friends say “우리 크리스틴” and my heart is happy
  22. When random children (or anyone really) try to speak English to me
  23. When I zip my kids’ jackets up and for like half a second I pretend that they’re my child and I’m sending them off the school
  24. Going for evening walks by myself in the winter, wrapped in a scarf and listening to music
  25. Fighting at the restaurant about who’s gonna say 여기요
  26. Seeing my yoga teachers handing out flyers in the morning when I walk to school and getting hugs from them
  27. The way people hug at the studio
  28. Crossing the Han River on the subway and looking outside thinking that I came to this city to be a part of it but instead it became a part of me
  29. DK, our favorite chef guy at the BBQ restaurant 한남돼지집
  30. Having the fastest internet in the world
  31. Never carrying keys ever
  32. My favorite Hershey’s cone
  33. When Jana and I go on trips and get excited for our “airport sandwich” which we later discovered exists in Paris Baguette stores everywhere and not just at the airport
  34. Transportation apps that accurately live track the subways and buses and also tell you exactly what door to stand at to make your transfer the fastest possible
  35. Blending in, in a country of Asian people, and for the first time not feeling like a minority
  36. Being an invisible foreigner
  37. Going to Daegu to visit Michelle
  38. All of our favorite restaurants
  39. Random moments where I feel like I really made a life here
  40. Walking around and reading signs and advertisements even though I have no clue what they mean because just reading characters makes me feel accomplished
  41. Convenience stores actually being extremely convenient
  42. Being in situations where being a foreigner makes things so much easier / Playing that foreigner card
  43. Living in the same building as my best friends
  44. That feeling I get when I do something by myself for the first time and with no help from a Korean person
  45. Standing in a store perusing Korean snacks
  46. Getting to see the moon change phases every single night while walking home from the yoga studio
  47. Feeling like a proud New Yorker when I completely disobey crosswalk signals
  48. Bowing to every single person ever
  49. Monster pizza
  50. All the people we meet when we go out; the next day when we recap the night and laugh so hard
  51. Staycations with Michelle
  52. Heated floors
  53. Heated subway seats
  54. Awesomely cheap medical insurance
  55. Meeting Koreans who lived or studied in America and asking them what they miss, and hearing “Chipotle” as the answer
  56. Going to the grocery after school and buying basically the same exact things
  57. Costco trips and taking the wrong bus and ending up somewhere far away; aborting the mission and going to get food
  58. Crazy and hilarious taxi drivers, and taxi drivers that speak English
  59. The anxious and possibly exciting feeling every time I go to the Sinsa area that I’ll run into Sway
  60. Drinking soju at convenience store like the foreigners we are
  61. Ordering 네네치킨 and watching a movie in my cave
  62. Leaving school immediately after the last bell on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays so that I can make it to yoga class on time
  63. When we sit and have tea together after class and the people at the yoga studio discover that I’m not Korean
  64. When Jana has to buy BTS tickets and it’s the funniest thing in the world because life depends on this moment. Literally
  65. Waiting on line at Downtowner and feeling VIP when Mojito personally delivers our burgers and gives us free french fries
  66. When people visit me and I already know exactly what we’re going to do and what they’ll love
  67. When people ask to do tarot
  68. All the help from Jean and Harim when it comes to Korean stuff
  69. Walking behind Rob and looking at all the girls that stare at him in adoration of his 스몰 페이스
  70. Beerday Sunday Fundays!!!!!
  71. Waking up early and going to run races
  72. Meeting up with Margaret to eat ice cream and laugh about how we met in Korean class and bought matching pants an hour later
  73. Eating endlessly basically every meal
  74. How so many things feel like second nature after two years in Seoul
  75. Requesting music at the club (sometimes by screenshotting “Rihanna” and holding it up to the DJ booth ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ”
Advertisements

Let’s Go

When I told people that I wanted to move to South Korea and teach English, I got the sense that they thought it was a joke, or maybe my own version of an escape from “the real world,” or that I would be in danger. I don’t know if any of those opinions could ever be fully right or wrong, but I do know this: my experiences in the last few years have showed me more of “the real world” than any three years in an office could. It showed me through relationships and friendships, new practices and challenges, and a distance from what I’ve always known.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that people don’t learn from working in an office for three years. And I don’t think that traveling or moving to South Korea will make you smarter or better, because it might not. But it did all of that and so much more for me. Believe it or not, I once got into an argument with a friend about my passion for travel, and I am grateful for that argument every day because it opened my eyes to just how different two minds can be, and that that’s perfectly okay.

After almost three years of living in a totally different culture than what I’ve known for my entire life, I can say with confidence that my mind has never been more open and my heart more full. I find myself loving what I do each day, in all aspects of my day…or at least trying to. I’m realizing that it’s not until you look back at who you used to be that it seems possible to change so much; that you don’t know how much one place can change you until you get there. And I’m discovering that people really are each their own.

I don’t think people who travel are better than people who don’t. And I don’t think that just because you’ve visited 50 countries, you’re smart, or cultured, or rich, or happy. I also don’t think that because you’re rich you’re spoiled, or that people with college degrees are smarter than people without them. I could never assume anything about a person because they travel, or because they don’t.

There is only one thing to know: it is of utmost importance that we support each other in our decisions. That is what makes people feel good. And that is what will bring us together no matter where in the world we are.

Things That No One Told Me About Teaching English in South Korea

Learning a language is a matter of persistence and motivation.

English is an extremely difficult language to both teach and learn. By teaching it, I’ve learned just how many exceptions to rules, irregular verb changes, and difficult words to spell and pronounce there are. Korean students are required to learn this language, and not all of them want to. Unless a student has a reason or inspiration to learn English, my class is not much of a class for them at all.

Korean is also a difficult language to learn. I’ve never had serious difficulties with the language barrier here, but I have learned that when you take language away, you are forced to interact, form bonds, and learn through the most basic form of communication—body language. Once I could read, write, and use basic verbs in Korean, my study of the language was put on hold until I realized that I’d never reach my goal of fluency unless I persist in practice.

Making Korean friends is harder than you’d think. 

Most Koreans are shy in personality, and shy to speak English. If they’re not either of those things, then you got lucky and should keep this friend for life. I have very few Korean friends, and I value the insights to their culture I get from our friendship.

Koreans can be very judgmental.

Physical beauty standards in Korea are very high, and many won’t be afraid to call you names that would be considered offensive in the U.S. Although Koreans often tell me that my “face is beautiful,” they don’t leave out that my “arms have hair,” my “skin is too tan,” or that my “feet are big.” They also think that I “eat too much ice cream,” but…isn’t there no such thing as too much ice cream?

Your mindset will evolve.

This is one of the most beautiful lessons I have learned since moving to Korea. From little things like my sense of fashion and my perception of beauty, to more significant ones like my taste in music and beliefs about people and the world, I have changed notably within my first few weeks of living here. I don’t judge people based on looks or fashion in the way that I used to, and I can now understand how or why people act the way they do. I have come to understand the phrase “To each his own” in a new light. Living in a society that was so different from the one I grew up in gave me insights to people’s choices, personalities, lifestyles, and principles that I never had before. The longer I live here, the more I find that the farther away I get from what I know, the more beautiful the world becomes.

Every single day will keep you guessing.

There is a thing we foreigners here call the “Korean surprise.” This is where totally unexpected things happen, in and out of school. From cancelled classes and surprise classes, to being forced to sing karaoke songs for the principal and teachers at my school, to strangers stopping you on the streets to speak English, the “Korean surprise” is very real. Each new day in Korea has something in store with the element of surprise.

Laziness is a terrible trap.

It’s easy to set goals, make to-do lists, and plans to explore and discover Korea, but it’s also easy to fall into the weekday rhythm of going to work, coming home to nap, meeting friends for dinner and drinks, and going straight to bed. I had ambitious goals of learning Korean, teaching myself to code, reading books, running, practicing yoga, and writing blogs left and right with all of my free time here. Soon, there were days and weeks that were exhausting and it required real motivation and a conscious effort to reach these goals. With the right balance of work and play, I can proudly say that my to-do list is slowly getting done, but it took some time to get here.

These kids are crazy.

“Korean students are very respectful,” they said. “Korean students love learning,” they said. “Korean students are very quiet,” they said. Yeah, well, they lied.

You will own a selfie stick, and your selfie count will skyrocket.

On our first weekend trip after moving to Korea, my friends and I kept asking people to take pictures of us in front of the sights we were visiting. At first, this felt very natural. I mean, how else do people take group photos while traveling? Throughout the day, as we kept asking people, we felt weirder and weirder each time. No one else was doing that—they all had selfie sticks. Within a matter of days, we each purchased our own, and before we knew it, that “Selfies” folder on our iPhone albums had more pictures in it than we ever wanted.

The black hole of music also known as K-pop will suck you in.

I remember watching my very first K-pop video during orientation nine months ago. It was BigBang’s “Fantastic Baby.” I looked around the room and wondered why so many people loved this. My initial reaction was that I couldn’t listen to music sang in a language I couldn’t understand, and that it was strange that the guys wore makeup and outrageous outfits, and that they weren’t even attractive. A few weeks later, there I was, singing, dancing, and screaming my favorite member’s name in Seoul’s Olympic Arena, one in a sea of thousands of BigBang diehard fans. I have listened to only a handful of English songs ever since.

The Korean education system that is so highly praised outside of this country is, in reality, quite flawed.

It’s hard to keep this short and simple, because there are so many aspects to Korean education that would be difficult to understand unless you witnessed it yourself. Around the world, Korea is known for breeding the brightest students, but what’s often missing and ignored is that these students are put under extreme pressure to succeed in school. For people aged 15-24 in South Korea, suicide is the leading cause of death. This is not to say that school and education is to blame for this statistic, but I do believe in the correlation between them.

Korean students, beginning in middle school, go to school for the majority of their days, sometimes not going home until 8-9 p.m., and even later for high school students. In my classes, kids are sleeping with their heads on their desks left and right, and sometimes they tell me lunch is their only real meal of the day because of their hectic schedules.

I once did a two-week lesson about high school in America, and after my first class I regretted it immediately. Seeing the shock and longing in my students’ faces when I asked them for their opinions about the differences between our educations systems broke my heart. Korean kids grow up very fast. By high school, their maturity level is that of American upperclassmen. While that is not necessarily a bad thing, it’s my opinion that they should have more opportunities to have more fun, more free time, and more chances to feel young. Instead, they spend 12+ hours in classrooms turning pages and not feeling good enough or smart enough to pass their next test, or get into the school they want. With these things in mind, I’ve made it a goal in my English classes to give them a unique way of study—a little less bookwork and a little more fun and human interaction when possible.

It is not easy.

Before coming to Korea, I read countless pieces of advice from current and former teachers here. Many times, they would talk about the motivation that Korean students have to learn English, and how this would naturally make teaching classes feel more like an easy and fun experience than an actual job. I was lucky enough to be placed in a great all-boys middle school where the teachers are extremely strict, resulting in the forming of very respectful young men. However, students are students, and they are the same around the world—some smart, some sleepy, and some disrespectful. Every class has its own set of geniuses, its own attitude, and ultimately, its own troublemaker. Some classes are quiet and nonresponsive, while others are madhouses. Picture kids standing on desks and water bottles flying across the room. That was once my reality.

The blogs and testimonials I read also talked about how much easier it would be thanks to the help of the Korean co-teacher. Surprise! I have 7 co teachers and none of them stand in front of the class with me to “co-teach” with me at all. Two of them sometimes step in to help, and the keyword there is sometimes. Imagine how difficult it is to teach English when your students don’t speak English and you don’t speak Korean, all while there is a Korean teacher in the room who absolutely can but just does not stand up to help at all. It is, as they say here in Korea, no jam (no fun).

The bright side of this is that, by the end of each class and each day, there will always be certain students that I reached, classes that were successful, and moments in which I looked around and smiled because I do love this job. Despite the challenges, I feel like I have a unique power to teach these kids about worlds they don’t know, and I have strong hopes that my lessons inspires them to explore those worlds.

수능! 화이팅! Korean SAT Day!

Today is Suneung Day in Korea, aka the day where high school seniors take the Korean equivalent of SATs. Many say that this test decides their life.

After working in the public school system in South Korea for the last 8+ months, I’ve seen the immense amount of pressures that Korean students face on a daily basis. In America, the SAT is a test that students take seriously and a test that has a significant power in the college application process. However, American students can take the test multiple times, on multiple test dates, and with the option to use your highest score.

Here in Korea, this Suneung test happens ONCE every year, on the 2nd Thursday of November, from 8 am to 6 pm. The government implements a number of policies on this day, such as later opening hours for schools, stores, and businesses, and special traffic controls and systems. Even airplanes are prohibited from taking off or landing during the English listening comprehension section of the exam. Police on motorbikes and some taxis are dispatched in and around test sites, and are available to give students rides if they are running late. Public transportation or those who are going to test sites are also given priority on the roads.

A day or two before the exam, students find out their test locations, usually another high school or their same high school. On the day of, school gates close at 8:10 am. Parents, family members, and younger classmates greet the test-takers with candy, rice cakes, snacks, posters and signs of support. Suneung day is a big day not only for the test-takers themselves but also for their families. In my opinion, many Korean parents put too much pressure on their kids to do well in school, and as a result the pressure on the students to do well on this one test is pretty unbelievable. For some, it is literally life or death. Each year, suicide is committed by high school seniors who feel too much pressure before taking the test, or feel inadequate after they receive their results.

Just thinking about how much pressure Korean students must feel makes my eyes water. It’s not wrong or bad to feel pressure to do well, because it’s natural. And it’s not wrong or bad for parents to expect good academic results from their sons or daughters, because they work hard to provide that education. And it’s definitely not wrong to believe that education is a fundamental key to success in this world, because it is. But Korea’s way of filling their youth’s lives from age 10 through 18 with the belief that this single test determines your future is ineffective and cruel.

High school hours in South Korea are from approximately 7:30 am to 10-11 pm. This means, that for their 3 years of high school, they spend around 30-40% of their time in a classroom, with a pencil in hand. The rest of their time is spent sleeping, eating, and having fun, I hope. Outside of this country, the education system here is praised and the students are seen as the best and brightest. But, those who are in the education system itself seem to be desperate to get out. Working in South Korea and witnessing the hardships and pressures that students face firsthand makes me hope more and more that with time, change will come. I hope that the value Koreans put on education never goes down, but that their empathy for students goes up. I think fairness and second chances are two ideas that could take a significant amount of pressure off of students, and as a result, on the country as a whole.

Yesterday, all I could think about was how all of the high school seniors in Korea must be feeling. Stress, anxiousness, pressure, and an overwhelming overload of so many senses came to my mind, and I realized that it was only my imagination. For more than 600,000 18-year-olds in this country, it was reality. And today I am sending every single good vibe I can to each of them. 화이팅!!

Mount Fuji and Tokyo, Japan

This is one of my favorite videos that I’ve made so far this year. I proudly watch it often if I have a few minutes to spare – Japan is pretty easy to miss once you visit! I remember having a lot of trouble choosing which clips to take out of the video so that it would all fit within the time of the song. Every clip was significant and memorable to our trip, so the ones that made this final cut are truly the cream of the crop.

Chasing Magic and Building Bridges

Let me start by sharing something that I wrote to myself a few months ago in my iPhone notes. I had a rough day of teaching and on that Friday night, I was so happy and relieved to arrive in Seoul and see my friends. Around midnight and after our first few shots of soju, I was overcome with an urge to write these words to myself:

Hey Christine.

Lately, a lot of people have been telling you that you are “living the life!” but you know that’s not true, right? Today, you had an okay day. So this is a reminder: you’re not living the life. You’re just…living life.

Maybe people think that living abroad is easy, but you know more than anyone that it’s not. Moving to South Korea to teach English isn’t your average college grad’s move, and while it is an incredible experience, it doesn’t make your life “the” life. In fact, nothing makes any life “the” life, because every life is different. Don’t forget that. Just remember to put your money towards experiences. You are a twenty-something, with dreams of one day having a job you love and a family you love even more. But for now, you deserve to see what and who the world has to offer before you settle.

You were not given the life. You were given a life. And you have the power to choose what to do with it. Your time, your energy, your money, your love, and your feet can go where you choose. No matter where you go, you’ll find that you’ll have some so-so moments.

It’s not always easy to be surrounded by what you don’t know, but I urge you to continue to make a life outside of what you do know. By the end of it all, let’s see if you lived more of “the” life than you dreamed, or dreamed more of “the” life than you lived.

Screen Shot 2015-06-22 at 10.07.01 PM

At the end of a bad class, I read that note to self, and I’m reminded of what’s good. For four months and counting, I wake up with a smile on my face. And every day, I say to myself, “Christine…You are in South Korea.” Then I smile, turn my alarm off, get out of bed, and have a great day.

I don’t know how to describe what life is like here; I just know that not one day has gone by where I woke up or went to sleep feeling anything but happy. And sometimes drunk. But the bottom line is that I know I’m happy.

A few days before New Years’ Eve last year, when I was sitting in a New York City diner at 4 am, I found out that I was accepted into the EPIK (English Program In Korea) Program, and that in a few weeks I would be on a plane to South Korea, where I would spend the next year. It has been four months since I first stepped foot in this country, and every day since has been eye-opening and mind-stretching.

I came here for a reason. I was (and still am) chasing a certain feeling that inspires me each time I feel it. When I was ten years old, I moved to the U.S. from the Philippines, and I don’t remember a thing about the flight or any part of the trip, except for one moment. We landed in JFK airport late at night and on the drive to our new home in New Jersey, I discovered a little place called New York City. All I remember about my first moments in America is looking out of the car window and up to the skyscrapers of Manhattan. The city of dreams, the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps. It was a fantasy land that I thought could only ever be just that–a fantasy. But there I was, at ten years old, lost and speechless in the magic of New York.

Years later I would discover the magic of so many places. Washington D.C., London, Amsterdam, Rome, Paris, Madrid, and Sevilla. The beaches of the Bahamas, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Niagara Falls, the deserts of Africa, the mountains of Switzerland, and even the three largest cathedrals in the world. In each and every one of those places, I got the same feeling that I did when I found myself in New York for the first time. It’s the feeling that I get every time I step foot on foreign ground, and every time I see something that I have only ever seen on pages and posters and screens before. This knowledge that it was worth every cent and sacrifice it took to get there, just to see it with my own eyes; that no high definition flat screen view of this would ever come close to the real thing. A simple feeling that tells me: I’m here, in the world. I’m in it, and I’m breathing it and walking it and touching it, and that this is no fantasy. And it’s not something I can easily describe, and surely I can’t say that this feeling is the same for everyone. Maybe you get this feeling from an entirely different living experience. But I know with certainty that some of my best moments happened in places that I might never be again.

It is a great blessing to me that my life’s memories and stories are set all over the world. I have seen more of the world in a decade than most will see in their life, and I am only constantly wanting more. The world does a great job of making me feel small, in the best way. It humbles me, and it makes me honest somehow. The more of the world I see, the more I can understand what it needs to grow better. Whether it’s honesty and truth, or understanding and strength, or kindness, or opposition, rebellion–I hope that I can hear the message loud and clear, and I hope that I can spread that message to the next place I go and to the next person I meet. This is the feeling that I chase; a sense that somehow I’m helping to bridge gaps between places and people.

This year, I came to South Korea because I wanted to expand my boundaries and challenge myself–in work, in language, in culture, and in any other way that I felt the world could test me–and believe me, I’m being challenged every day. I also came here because I wanted to prove to people (including my own friends and family) who were skeptical about this move, that ignorance is only ignorance until someone shows you the other side. I’m happy to be the person who proves that, and I hope that I can be that person for many of those whose minds could stand to be a little more challenged and a little more opened. I also hope that I can continue to meet people who will do that for me.

14663_10204099003739066_4414993487979247982_n 11042684_10204497473660565_196711888960568757_n 11149256_10204098979698465_3793056719160956054_n10398033_10204497460580238_3963305443891693982_n

I have never been the type to want what’s easy and I certainly don’t want what’s comfortable. That’s why I’m here. My passions for international education and travel and people and language and learning has led me down this path of opening minds and building bridges, and I am confident that this field is already doing just that, even with the so-so moments in between.

Living abroad is hard. I know this because I leave my house every day and it reminds me.

Teaching English is hard. I know this because I have days that remind me.

Learning English is also hard. And I know this because I have students that constantly remind me.

But these daily reminders don’t stop me from spending five days a week in Korean classrooms teaching English to kids who might not like it, because I know that one day they might make a difference, whether big or small, in their families or for their countries, or in our world. I am constantly hoping that learning English and interacting with foreigners will open their minds, or inspire them to chase their own magic and to build their own bridges. And with over 1,000 students, I might have a pretty good shot.

I’ve only just started planting seeds. Stay tuned.

11253593_10204497472540537_5407183565278572304_n