Tales from Corea del Sur

Soccer and Seoul: ECUADOR VS. KOREA

2010-05-18T20:57:00.001-07:00

This weekend I went to Seoul with some friends. We booked rooms in the Seoul Motel, a classy establishment in the foreign-frequented Itaewon district. In Itaewon you can find a wide selection of international restaurants and stores, clothing in sizes larger than a 2 (advertised as "big size") and you can hear English - a lot.

When I walk around in Korea I can tune out people's conversations. The small amount that I understand is not sufficient to eavesdrop. A foriegner here can breeze down a street while chalking up all Korean speech to white noise. But not in Itaweon. A group of women in front of us were dicussing why their group of friends did the right thing by not rushing into marriage like Sue. A couple behind us was talking about a restuarant. A Nigerian woman was asking Delaine who braids her hair, and offering a card for her salon. This actually felt a little overwhelming after being so used to simply ignoring the conversations happening around me.

We went to eat some Greek food, then headed to a bar on the aptly named "Hooker Hill". As we walked up the hill, we saw scantily clad women sitting on stools, the doors of various venues left open just enough to give people a peek of what they could pay for. At the top of the hill, we arrived at our destination, a country western bar that was full of real American cowboys. After a couple vodka-cranberries, I decided to ask one of the cowboys to two-step. He had a good sense of rythym, and soon enough I was two-stepping around the center of the room as my friend filmed my first western dance experience. Surprisingly, the same cowboy had followed my guy friend into the bathoom and asked him, "What's the deal with your lady friends?" and commented that I was a "mighty fine lady."

The next stop was Caliente, a Latino-frequented latin club (as opposed to a Korean salsero venue). We danced until they kicked us out and the lights went on. Then we went to Hongdae and hit up a place called Gorilla before crashing into bed in Itaewon.

On Sunday we went to Myungdong for some shopping. A youth-culture haven, this shopping district has a ton of international stores ilke Zara and Forever 21, Korean beauty product stores with hawkers out front who drag you in by the arm and give you a basket with free samples in exchange for browsing, as well as the typical Korean street vendors selling everything from belts to shoes to faux acid washed denim leggings to couple cell phone charms and earrings.

But the real reason for going up to Seoul this weekend was to see the World Cup warm up friendly between Ecuador and Korea. I was horrified to discover that I had forgotten to pack my Ecuadorian flag, but luckily I remembered my 2006 jersey and collection of red blue and yellow accessories. As huge crowds of people spilled out of the subway at the Seoul World Cup Stadium, I saw a Korean guy wearing the same jersey as me. Ecuador! I yelled to him... and then he bowed at me. We were wondering if he just randomly likes Ecuador. There are lots of Ecuadorian Koreans, but I still wouldn't have expected someone from Ecuador to bow so automatically - however I bow all the time in Korean contexts so I shouldn't judge! But everyone else we saw was wearing red and white, the Korean colours.

Korean fans are crazy! Their energy was infectuous. The crowd had a band with drums that led cheers. They shot flares in the air, they raised a flag up AND down over themselves. And their cries of "dae han min guk" (Korea's official name) almost never let up for the entire game. When we arrived at our awesome front and center seats, there were large pieces of red or white cardstock, and a Park Ji Sung mask to wear on the back of your head.

But for the size of our small group, we did a pretty good job of cheering. We attracted the attention of a small group that started yelling Ecuador back at us. And that was how I met two Ecuadorian guys from Toronto who are teaching English in Seoul. There were also a few pockets of Ecuadorian fans on the other side of the stadium, visible with their yellow jerseys and balloons, and one lone flag.

The Mind

I was having dinner with my friend Sunny on Monday when she brought up the concept of the mind. "Ask any Korean person where the mind is, and they will point here," she said, placing her hand on her heart. "If you ask any western person, they always point to their head." I decided to test this theory last night over dinner at an Italian place with Alexander (Chan Hui). When I asked him where the mind is, he gestured to his chest.

Sunny is a cultural interpreter. She is Korean, but also lived in California, and has many friends in the international community here in Daegu. She knows Korean and North American culture intimately and is fully bilingual. These cultural interpreters can provide incredible insights into a culture. Sometimes you need to ask someone to explain something to you. Why does my friend think I want to meet up with him when I say, "I am bored"? How much money should I bring as a wedding gift? Why are some people so shy and embarassed to talk to foreigners? Is it just me, or are Korean gender roles strikingly similar to Latin American ones? Through friends like her, I have learned a lot about Korea, and become much more in tune with and sensitive to cultural differences. Having friends like Sunny has allowed me to function more smoothly in Korean society.

the onset of summer

2010-05-04T02:21:00.000-07:00

HOT.

The steamy Daegu weather has arrived. Unlike in Canada, where weather changes slowly creep up on you, Korea basically has summer and winter, where spring and fall are like a joke. At best, a few days of glorious weather around 20 degrees. This is also the time when middle aged folk bust out the best of their hiking gear: black polyester pants, and bright coloured sweat-wicking long-sleeved shirts, and .... hiking polls.... to hike up pathed pathways that are more like sidewalks than challenging mountainous terrain.

For me, this means bursting open my wardrobe to expose brightly coloured skirts and dresses, lightweight fabrics, and my impressive shoe collection... and extra walking and biking. Asha has a habit of setting up her throne in one of two places to catch some vitamin D during our rigidly enforced "Fresh Air Time" aka break, which lasts from 11:31-11:44 and 4:31-4:44 daily. We see a lot of interesting things from a perch in the sun. One side is the sidewalk, and the other is a shoddy little parking area. Shoddy, because the "chain" that closes off the four-car parking area is neon green, and plastic. Yesterday, a driver pulled up to the chain, got out of the car, and de-linked two segments of the chain. He drove into the lot, parked his car, then re-linked the chain back up.

We have also seen:
-Crazy old men on bikes with cool straw hats, who yell at us and want to practice their English
-Children who run by brushing their hands along a ledge, and then freeze when they see us
-Old women who stare intensely until you look them in the eye and say "annyong haseyo"

And today I bought a strange ice cream called an "ice pine", which sounds more like "AH-ee-su PA-eye-nuh" - but before you gag and think about pine-sol flavour and Christmas trees, rest assured that this baby was shaped like a little pineapple the size of a pine cone.

Last Friday we had a salsa show at Urban club. The owners are a great bunch of people, and they took care of us as we rehearsed all week, providing orange juice, water, and snacks. We did a rueda with five couples, and our "salsa showcase" with two couples. It was a lot of fun and went really well. Our girls were decked out with dramatic smokey makeup, and the dances went well - the only scary moment being when both Christine and I were being flipped in the air upside down and our feet hit each other mid-air.... there is a troupe of Brazilian professional dancers who work at a local amusement park, and bringing them to a party is like opening a can of worms of fun. We had a conga line going, and danced up a storm until close to 4am, where we ended up at Burger King where I had a shrimp burger. Sorry ... See-oo bah-guh.

I don't do this often. My days of partying till 6am are pretty much over. If a crazy friday happens, I am pretty much out of commission on Saturday. So Sharifa and I lounged about in the sunshine on my rooftop, lying on bright fuschia fabric and wearing skimpy clothes. My Korean neighbours consider the roof a place for drying clothing, and storing garbage. Most Korean people do not suntan, as the many whitening products and SPF 100 creams prove. But in a country where summer and beach season are defined by dates, and have nothing to do with the actual weather, a pair of sunbathing foreigners just look plain crazy. My neighbour and her two kids were peering at us from behind a wall. I am talking about obvious spying - their heads would pop out against the wall edge, the rest of their bodies hidden. The positive side side of the rigid ideas of when it is appropriate to go to the beach, is that when beach season is considered over, the normally crowded beaches become a pleasant place to hang out. The weather is exactly the same. No more world records for the most people on beach (Haeundae in Busan a couple of years ago). Just me, smiling up at the sun, as Korean girls teeter through the sand in their stilettos.

Me? I religiously wear my heels in appropriate places like a salsa club. Not while hiking. And salsa is a big part of my life these days. I am taking my on-2 Ladies Styling class and loving it so much. Que viva la salsa. My teacher whose English name is Kitten, and the Caribe owner, whose English (Spanish) name is Gitano also showed up at the fiesta last weekend. Good times in Daegu.

And last but not least, I really appreciate some of the people in my neighbourhood. Like the middle-aged man I bought my bike from last year at his used bike shop. On Sunday I was biking downtown, and as I passed his shop I decided it would be a good time to put in air. I also have been having a loud squealing noise coming from my brakes every time I slow down. This startles many pedestrians (people here bike on the sidewalk and largely without helmets). So I said this to him in Korean: "If stop, "_____" sound loud hear!" He laughed at my ghetto Korean, and proceeded to... fix it. And refused to take any money. He's a hilarious character who usually has a cigarette sticking out of his mouth, but also a jolly smile. These people around the neighbourhood that I see on a frequent basis create a sense of community for me here.

salsa etc.

2010-04-26T01:41:00.000-07:00

Le midnight croissant! (purchased at "Paris Baguette)

Tonight I had so much fun I was debating on leaving Korea! I LOVE LOVE LOVE my new salsa class. I am studying with "Kitten" who is a fabulous dancer best known for her highly sexy styling and curvaceous physique (by Korean standards) at a salsa club called Caribe. I was in heaven! I learned some body isolation and body rolls, salsa style booty pops, some new steps and turns, and some pretty shines with delicate ladies styling. LOVE LOVE LOVE.

And the Caribe owner is interested in enlisting my PR skills to help him promote a weekly latin night targeting the foreign community. But unfortunately I could not stay while the rest of the ladies were filming kitten doing the moves. The salsa shoes were slipped into their bag and I zipped up my ridiculously high peep toe booties, and went to the second club of the night. And did I mention that I'm talking about a Monday? Welcome to Melinda's life pre-salsa show.

I headed to Urban next where a couple of our salseros were waiting. We have a great mix of foreigners (I'm gonna have to stop using this word back home) and Korean students who are doing a rueda. There was a bit of a mixup as I tried to decide whether to dance as a man or woman - I am a proud androgynous salsa dancer - but I went with woman. It was a pretty chill Monday night crowd at the club, but we had a bit of an audience.

There were a few Koreans who were enjoying some drinks at the bar who got excited about salsa and got up to learn. One of the guys I met was a modern dance teacher and he invited me to one of his shows. He asked me if I wanted his foreign or Korean name. I said the Korean one, which was Dong-wook. why? because I have grown tired of Koreans using crappy English names. Why should you have an English name? You already have a Korean one. Dong-wook will always be a better name than Jacob Tutu, Converse, or Microwave.

I actually met a guy yesterday who said he used to go by Peter, but now uses his Korean name. That was sweet sweet music to my ears and I celebrated by piercing a slab of kimchi with my metal chopsticks and exclaiming MASHITDA.

But back to Dong-wook. He told me that he knows Mexican-style salsa. I made a weird face as images of norteno dancing popped into my head. Then he said, "Mexico.. Colombia salsa." Salsa snob that I am, I let him know that Mexican style doesn't exist... "to my knowledge," I threw in as an afterthought (Confucious gets to you once you're here long enough, trust me. All that bowing and two-handed serving and indirect making of requests.... I can't control it anymore). And allow me to interject right here, that Ecuador doesn't have a salsa style either. Sure,

Ecuadorians dance salsa. Not strikingly well compared to say, Colombians, but other types of music like cumbia, merengue and *gasp* techno, are popular. But the people who dance it really well (i.e. lots of turns which always impress people) the way lots of North Americans like to imagine are really a small minority.

Anyways once we agreed that Colombian style is awesome, me and Dong-wook high fived each other and I was on my way to catch a cab home.

A smaller group of us will also be doing the pretty complicated dance with some flips and stunts - this time we'll film it and you'll see us doing the no-hand cartwheel and jumping onto the guys with one leg in the air. Stuntage: 100% courtesy of Ms. Sanchez. (I'm glad she made us do it) Looks like Daegu is going to have a serious month of latin parties this month.... nice-suh.

Now to see a huge shift in tone, this is what I wrote earlier at my desk during the dreary dreary gray day that was today:

Writer's block.

Suddenly I become fascinated in reading news articles. A quick search on Al Jazeera turns into career stalking of Imran Garda and Teresa Bo. How did they get where they are? What can I do to get there, too?

It is absolute torture to be sitting down. TORTURE. I listen to salsa. I mentally walk through the choreography we will practice tonight. My mind can leave, my mind can go.. .anywhere but here.

My concentration definitely sucks today. But my posture is fantastic, as Asha points out. Probably because of the vast amounts of dance in my life these days. But let's backtrack a bit, and talk about the weekend - significantly more interesting than my weekdays. So there were two birthday parties. Asha's, which started with a lovely dinner and transitioned into dancing, and another party that required all attendees to wear togas. A large number of my friends were involved, including some salsa gente. I don't really do togas, so I went with a festive neon-blue cheetah print dress, which I claim helps me sell the salsa class. I always wear dresses to salsa, and I like to add a barrio fab edge, however, I was put in my place by Nakia: "Looks like you're selling a lot more than the class."

But regardless of toga and dinner parties, salsa must happen, so I went to Babalu to assist our LA style guest instructors to do their thing. But upon arrival at the club I was in for a surprise. Alexander, my beloved Babalu employee and friend, quit his job at the salsa club to take an acting job in Seoul.

He has provided hours of entertainment and witty commentary, and taught me a few secrets, like the fact that some Korean guys call ugly girls "ogres" and pretend that they will kill them, as if life were a video game. He also explained the nightclub system in detail, taught me what actually goes down on some hiking retreats for middle-aged singles, helped us out with salsa practices and parties including filming us as we prepared performances, taught me a lot about Korean culture and food (cheese kimbab!) and helped me practice a whole lot of Korean - with the "coveted" Seoul accent. He was extremely patient as I struggled to pronounce the evil evil double consonants that I fail to hear.

I also had the joy of teaching him phrases like "batti ridah" and "batti bwoy" and watching the reaction on a Guyanese man's face when he said it to him.

But wait.....look at this pic! those are batti ridahs if I've ever seen 'em. And thus me and the batti ridified man agreed that I was allowed to use the phrase batti ridah just that one time. And look at how the birthday girl's a champ!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!
I'm doing a countdown to the Ecuador vs. South Korea game on May 16. I have a flag, a 2006 jersey, a faux Adidas jacket, an assortment of patriotic azul amarillo y rojo jewelery, and even face paint. Sorry Korea, but this time I want you to lose.

I am also taking a break from my weekly private language classes to focus on salsa - a woman only has so many hours in a day- but I did attend a language exchange event yesterday which was a great opportunity to meet some new people and practice my Korean. neeeEEEE.

부비부비 I've had enough! ㅠㅠ

2010-04-14T01:13:00.000-07:00

Layers of pink chiffon, cute tiny little shuffling steps, delicate feminine giggling, large bows and ruffles, patent leather shoes and the general look I wore to church when I was four years old but on a grown woman... these are all things that rub me the wrong way, which already set me up to be pissed off by this commercial.

Call me a proper young lady, but there are certain things that make me cringe like nails on a blackboard because they seem so goshdarn inappropriate. One of those is the word "pee". I absolutely hate hearing people talk about how they are about to go pee. I strongly believe that everyone should just excuse themselves and be on with their business before returning to said social situation without any mention of the last five minutes of their life.

But what takes gross to a whole new level is the phrase 부비부비...which means grinding, whining, apegado, or dancing close. But it's worse. Korean has many onomatopoeic sounds such as chika chika for tooth-brushing, but bubi bubi is supposed to be the sound of two bodies rubbing together. One time in club, before approaching from behind, a Korean guy asked me, "Do you know Korean-dance 부비부비?" And Sunday nights at club Monkey in Daegu are designated 부비 nights.

Part of the reason this offends me so much is that 부비부비 is a term that uses cutesiness to refer to something sexual. This is just as repulsive as a man busting out some baby talk in the bedroom.

So imagine my utter horror and disbelief when I saw this cell phone commercial. My Korean co-worker says that it's okay that the phrase bubi-bubi is being used because of Ji-yeon's cute outfit and girlish look, complete with the decidedly juvenile floppy bow. "It's innocent because she looks cute." And if this cellphone has the "bump" bluetooth file transfer function, I suppose it is 1% more acceptable to say the b-word. But I am still grossed-out by the existence of the term 부비부비, and hope that it goes out of style real soon - a common trait of all fashion trends in Korea, so fingers crossed.

La Bendita's Easter Weekend

2010-04-04T18:16:00.000-07:00

EASTER

When I woke up today, I found myself missing the excellent musical quality of the Mennonite church, and this familiar hymn was playing in my head. Here in Korea you wouldn't know it's Easter Monday, because it's the Cold Food Festival. I got a similar comfort from listening to the hymn as I get from hanging a rosary above my bed - I'm not a religious person, but these markers of culture and tradition help to create a sense of home. I also greatly miss my mother's Easter baskets that I have still been receiving in my 20s. Who doesn't love a chocolate bunny!

And speaking of things i miss, last Friday I really missed eating Fanesca, the Ecuadorian delicious thick soup eaten on Good Friday. My dad said, "cuando me sirva el segundo plato, vamos a pensar en ti." El segundo! Pero que amable! Since childhood, we have almost always gone to eat my Aunt Gladys' version, something that no amount of the best kimchi can ever replace.

(*.^)

The ginormous latin party Charanga for Chile is over. Hours of practice, promotion, and preparation went into this event that drew over 200 people and raised a few thousand dollars for the Chilean Earthquake Relief Fund. English teachers and university professors, Latino military, the Peruvian worker community, Brasilian dancers, Korean Spanish students, and others came out to dance and watch the show. You can see me in the black matte-yet-shiny capri leggings:

At the end of the night, we went for galbi (Korean BBQ) at 4am. A group of Korean university students got into a fight, where food was thrown and tables were pushed. My favourite moment was when a skinny guy menacingly grabbed a soju bottle and threatened to hit his friend in the head with it. Dinner and a free show! Don't mind if I do. The drama at the restaurant is probably why the Korean staff was so attentive when an unknown and extremely drunk foreign guy stumbled to the floor. He somehow managed to wear his converse into the restaurant - a major no-no when you sit on cushions on the floor. So the staff helped him take off his shoes and did him the favour of carrying them to the shoe lockers at the entrance. He eventually lay down and fell into a deep sleep. So people decided to have some fun. The staff assisted by bringing out empty cases of soju bottles.

(*.^)

Break time at work: Asha and I often walk over to a local coffee shop. We used to be able to walk across the street, but a few months ago a thigh-high barrier was erected as well as a light - that takes a good five minutes to change. I'm not the only one guilty of jay-walking: I saw our CEO do a running leap over the barrier once. Mysteriously, often traffic lights are green when pedestrians are not given the walk signal in the same direction. No turning signals - so I've always considered this a safe time to walk. I mean, I can dodge cars speeding down winding roads on Andean mountains, so I know I'm good. But today, a cop drove by on a motorcycle. He yelled at us through his paisley bandanna, to which I replied "외국인" (foreigner) while meekly shrugging my shoulders. That, my friends, is the "foreigner card".

And at the coffee shop, I ran into a Korean woman in her late 30s I always see at the gym. She complimented me on my S-line, and also pulled her jacket to the side to show off her own side-profile, to which I exclaimed, "와! 맞아요. 에쓰 라이느 있어요." (woah! That's right! What an S-line!"

(*.^)

Next up: Many weeks of late practices that cut into sleep were worth it but all of us dancers are tired - and we'll be taking a week off from salsa class to give people time to do their thing - my thing being a weekend in Seoul where I am excited to be meeting up with one of my mom's former high school ESL students, who is Korean and doing his co-op work term here, some CIDA intern friends, and distributing copies of Daegu Pockets to businesses featured in my past article on Seoul's latin scene.

LUNCH, ABORTION, PEDESTRIANS

2010-03-18T23:17:00.000-07:00

I was out for lunch with some of my Korean co-workers when the Korea's ban on abortion came up. Although not encouraged, abortion has been an option up until recently. But now, doctors and women are faced with a $2000 fine and jail time for the doctor and potentially the woman as well. Does it have to do with Lee Myung-bak administration's attempt to increase South Korea's birthrate (which has been denied)? We discussed this as well as why Korean and English are so hard to learn respectively, as we ate pasta and salad. Note that these western foods were Koreanized by serving everything on one communal plate, where each person takes a little, bit by bit, onto a small side plate. Our pineapple and grape Fanta (you know you're not in north america when...) was also served in huge glasses with multiple pastel-coloured straws.

When it came time to pay up, one of the men went to pay. He is the manager of the audio section of the Editing department, which may or may not be significant. I tried to offer some money, but he said, "Just get me a coffee," adding that it should be sweet as in caramel latte, and not a "nasty" Americano (맛없다).

Our group of three women and two men then went to a coffee shop. Here the other guy paid for everyone's coffees, significant in a country where coffee can cost as much as a decent meal. I guess next time will be my turn.

~~~

Susy and I are finishing up choreography for the dance show we have coming up in April. Since I've started teaching salsa in Korea, one of the biggest challenges I face is explaining a lot of what I do naturally. I know how to do something right, but I don't know how to break down what is a natural instinct for me. Susy has been really helpful with pointing this out and helping me to break down and teach what is either attributed to my "natural ability" or years of practice (probably both). We are doing some stunts where girls are thrown into the air- so watch for those videos if you can't make it to the show on April 3rd.

~~~

PEDESTRIAN CULTURE

When you walk by someone in public, people in Korea pass to the left. They drive on the right... and scooters or motorcycles weave in and out of wherever they walk on sidewalks, but as a pedestrian it is clear that you must pass on the left. What strikes me though, is that a lot of people who I asked say they don't notice this, unlike in Japan, where people consciously told me they pass on the left (ie Kaz). So I tried passing to the right. This always results in a fumble where you dodge to both directions before someone finally insists on talking one path.

And since we're talking about pedestrians, anyone who comes here will immediately notice people's lack of awareness as they walk. Countless times, I have almost crashed into people who are busy texting, or just randomly staring at the ground as they walk. I suppose I can allow this behaviour, as long as their using the new Big Bang-endorsed Lollipop cell phone.

When I'm on my bike, I have to ding the bell to alert people to my approach. This never felt as necessary in Canada, where dinging the bell feels almost rude. (Excessive apologizing, anyone?) I pull it out as my last possible resource in Canada. But here, perhaps due to the high population density, no one will move UNLESS you ring that bell. People also love honking their car horns way more. I suppose noise is okay when cell phone ring tones can be heard over kpop music that plays at transfer points on the subway line.

And as a last, immature note, every lesson plan I have created this week has taught adjectives, and I have used the words "big old" to precede various nouns. I can't deny that every time I hear "big ol'..." I think of pitbull, and want to finish the sentence with "booty".

I DARE YOU (^_^)

2010-03-14T20:02:00.000-07:00

Last night I was in a convenience store with my friend when a Korean couple walked by. The guy turned to me, and took in a deep breath of air before uttering one syllable: "Hi."

He immediately hunched over into an embarassed giggle, as did his girlfriend, and they scampered out of the store, clearly experiencing an adrenaline rush over the audacity of his actions. When this happens, I always say hi back, in the event that it's someone I actually have been introduced to and might have forgotten - to save face, mi gente! But this was a clear case of them having planned to say hi. The conversation might have gone something like this:

-I dare you to say hi to those foreigners!

-No - you do it!

-Ok! What should I say?

-Just say hi! ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ (korean laughing that sounds like static)

Having people randomly come up to you and say "hi" in English is quite common. And I get that someone wants to say hi to you, start a conversation, be friendly, practice their English. But why have an obnoxiously loud conversation as you walk by? Yeah. I have been walking downtown when a group of Koreans might be walking towards me from the other direction. One time, I heard a guy say to his friend, "Hi, how are you?"

His friend replied, "I'm FINE thank you.... how are you?" all at a volume that was clearly intended for listeners outside the group, and an exchange that only started right before they passed us.

Then they took off, ㅋ!ㅋ!ㅋ! - all the way home.

If you aren't in Korea, it might be hard for you to imagine why speaking to a foreigner is such a big deal, especially when so many young Koreans have an excellent command of English. But look at the category: foreigner. Do we even use vocabulary like that to refer to immigrants in Canada? I've met people that freak out when I ask a question in English. If they don't understand, they often don't give me a second chance to re-phrase or repeat. They are too embarassed and often exit the conversation. Busting out one's heavily-accented Korean usually helps.

And of course this whole "omg it's a foreigner!" attitude also affects dating. Currently, an American friend of mine and her Korean boyfriend want to set me up with one of his friends for a double-date. He has a nice guy in mind, who speaks English. But, this nice guy wasn't sure he wanted to meet a foreigner. Why? He claims he is scared. I'll keep you posted. All I ask of the world is that the next time someone sets me up on a Korean-style blind date, that they inform/ask me first.... ㅋㅋㅋ!

CSI

2010-03-04T06:08:00.000-08:00

Debido a mi horario, usualmente estoy en la casa a las 10 de la noche. Pero hoy hice una entrevista para Daegu Pockets con mi amiga Sunny con la seccion de CSI de la policía de Daegu. Como buenos coreanos, cuando nos preguntaron, 밥먹었어요? (Ya comiste?) contestamos que sí, porque la verdad a nadie le vale si hayas comido o no. Es como decir, "como stas" nomás.

Bueno por eso estábamos muertos de hambre después de la entrevista así que fuimos a comer en Kim Pasa, una cadena que mis amigos maestros de inglés llaman "the orange restaurant" por el color del letrero. Había unos estudiantes de escuela secundaria comiendo a esa hora. Aunque trabajo en la industria de las academias, necesitaba recordarme de los horarios locos que llevan la mayoría de los estudiantes coreanos, quienes recientemente empezaron el nuevo año de clases para el nuevo año lunar. Como dijo un amigo estudiante universitario, "I'm worried!" y le entiendo. Trabajan mucho. Pero volvemos a lo de antes.

Hoy llegamos a la sede principal de la Policía de Daegu. Afuera había un guardía con chaqueta color amarillo y nos dirigió hacia adentro. Fuimos a la oficina de CSI, Crime Scene Investigation, donde teníamos cita con el director del departamento, el señor 최용석, Choi Yong-Seok. Con un aguita de té verde, nos empezó a contar de su trabajo. Especialista en Bloodstain Pattern Analysis, lleva 8 años en este departamento. Después de estudiar en Ottawa, Canada con el OPC, fundó la primera asociación coreana de BPA. Muy amable, se le notaba que le apasiona su trabajo. Hasta se reía al decir que sí le gusta mucho ver la serie de tele Dexter, que se trata de un asesino en serie que también trabaja en BPA.

Nos contó unas cifras impresionantes. En esta ciudad, el índice de asesinatos es usualmente 50 anualmente. Dijo que el año 2008 fue raro porque solamente había 33, la mayoría siempre cometidos a puñaladas. Pero lo más asombroso es que son 5 o 6 suicidios D-I-A-R-I-A-M-E-N-T-E en esta ciudad de 2.6 millón de personsa, y que son gente mayor. "Ser viejo es difícil,", dijo. La cara de él cambió cuando nos contó algo que había pasado hoy. Una madre y sus dos hijos adolescentes se habían suicidado con monóxodo de carbono. Nos dijo que le afectó tanto que mandó unos mensajitos de texto a sus hijos en ese momento desde el lugar del crimen para decirles que los quiere mucho.

Aún un hombre que ve cadáveres la mayoría de los días es afectado por un caso así.

La verdad no podría yo hacer un trabajo así. Ver tantos cadáveres y estar rodeada de los efectos de la violencia. Pero sin querer, cuando nos contaba los detalles de otro suicidio, casi me río por lo ridículo que suena tanto sufrimiento inecesario. Otro hombre se cortó el pene y se apuñaló en la cabeza varias veces para después ponerse una gorra justo antes de ahorcarse.

Bueno todo eso muy feo. Pero la razón por empezar esta investigación es que había unos policías canadiense que vinieron a capacitar a algunos policías coreanos para el curso avanzado de BPA. Desarrollaron una relación muy bonita. Primero hablé con el canadiense, y tenía bonitos recuerdos de corea, la comida y la buena hospitalidad que provieron los colegas coreanos.

Eso se veía. El lado humano. Y el trabajo meticuloso de un hombre que le valora la vida.

Otra cosita que solamente se ve en corea es un compacto de polvo para sacar las huellas digitales. Inspirado por el maquillaje, este polvo de gris, negro, o blanco, parece un verdadero make up compact y hasta tiene espejo! Eso es para ver debajo de la mesa, escritorio etc... no para ver a los criminales que te acercan de atrás como sugerí.

Un día interesante que me hizo pensar en el valor de la vida, pero que al final me quitó el apetito.

TV, Korean lessons, and a Monday night

2010-03-02T06:10:00.000-08:00

FOREIGNER!

Arirang is Korea's "Number 1 English network"

To make a long story short, I applied for a spot on an Arirang TV travel show and I got it. So I'm going on a four-day trip with another foreign young woman I haven't met yet, and an Arirang TV crew. We're going to the south of South Korea to Yeosu Sado, Geoje Haekumgang, Hakdongmongdol beach (islands etc. but not as far as Jeju) and will be on TV. We're filming starting this Saturday, and I'm really excited. I'll let you guys know where and when you can watch it - but it will definitely be available on the website after it airs.
~~~~~~^^ ~~~~~~
I have a new Korean teacher and I like her. Just like my last teacher at the Daegu YMCA, she was trained to teach Korean as a foreign language at Keimyung Univeristy, and is helping me out with my brand new text book. That's right - I graduated into my second book of Korean, 서강 한국어 1B. Asa!
~~~~~~^^ ~~~~~~

Yesterday I left work on time, for a change. Asha and I went downtown on the subway. It's always a dilemma of subway versus cab. But during rush hour, the subway is faster. It's also cheap - when you buy a reload-able card its less than 90 cents a ride.The trains stop exactly where they are supposed to. And you know when the next train is coming to the minute. There are signs and audio announcements in English, but the real reason to take the subway, is the PEOPLE WATCHING.

Downtown Daegu is a youth culture mecca. Clothing, shoes, and accessories are sold in tiny boutiques that line the streets. Bright flashing lights, couples walking in a huddle linked at the arm, street food stands covered with clear plastic sheets for a makeshift shelter, and coffee shops galore.

We went to the theatre and read the English movie options. There are always a few English movies, and Korean is available in subtitles. But the movie titles themselves are English words spelled out in Korean. I told the lady at the counter what we wanted, then she switched to English and said "middle or front". I pulled out my money, but Asha was baffled - she hadn't been to the movies here yet and didn't know there was assigned seating. It's one of those things I forget about as being different. We saw Atom Egoyan's Chloe and I was ecstatic to see Toronto.

Home sweet home, yes. I'll be there in a while.

The weekend

2010-02-21T03:45:00.001-08:00

Today was a beautiful spring-like day in Korea. The sun was shining, and the weather was so warm, that after lying on the floor watching a couple of episodes of LOST in a row, I decided to get up and pump air into my bicycle tires for the first ride of spring.

It was a great day. I met up with one of my Korean friends for a great chat over coffee, then I met up with two fellow Torontonian ladies for a great dinner at an Italian place. The weather was so nice, that I also wore a non-down jacket for the first time in 2010 - busting out the faux leather bomber once again AND it was also warm enough to justify getting ice cream. So one of the Torontonian ladies and I decided to take our ice cream cones and walk home. This area of Daegu is pretty at night. We pass the river, the lights of downtown, and see flowers emerging.

As we were beginning to walk on the main road near downtown, I noticed that a tall white foreign guy was turning around every so often as he walked. This is common when you hear English in Korea - I often turn to look. Koreans often turn to look. And sometimes you do the expat-to-expat nod or what's up. Note that there are also black-to-black and hispanic-to-hispanic specific nods as well.

Dressed in jeans and baggy sweatshirt, he also had headphones on, and a general sloppy appearance kinda like those disheveled North American travelers/backpackers that give the rest of us a bad reputation for being terrible dressers. I noticed that he was walking at the same pace as us (not possible considering leg length difference when we are 5'3" and he is 6'4") and appeared to be straining to hear our conversation.

Halfway through the walk, my friend decided to pop into a convenience store to pick up a bottle of water. When we came out and stood to wait for the light to change, I noticed that the foreign guy was standing there. This struck me as odd, because in the amount of time we had taken in the store, he should have crossed already. Upon crossing the street I told my friend I had to check my cell so if we could please wait for a second. When he was out of earshot, I explained what I'd noticed, and she said that he was the reason she had suggested buying water. So we crossed the street, and continued walking and chatting.

However, a block later, we noticed that he had crossed the street to join us on the new side. This is when I knew something was wrong. He also looked too attentive - he was definitely not listening to anything on those headphones.

As we crossed the street, I debated on going into a bakery on the corner. As we slowed our pace, the foreign guy looked into the bakery window - he had clearly heard us.

So I did what any self-respecting woman should do. I stepped to the side of the sidewalk, much as I do to get out of the way when doing a cross-body lead, and I brought out my Esplanade roots that made me badder than Drake, and called out to him: "Hey! Do you have a problem!"

He immediately looked up after the "hey", proving that his ipod was off, and got a jumbled look on his face and shrugged a simple, no.

HA.

Somewhere around the time that I learned how to be strong after getting played by a gino in a souped up car, I also learned that I have power, in general. Why shrink into the corner? No one has the right to make you feel uncomfortable. There is one class of weirdo, that is just a lonely or awkward guy who stares because he is into you or wants friends or whatever - but the trick is recognizing that you have power to act in a situation. Obviously, you shouldn't stand up and antagonize a lone potential attacker in a dark alley, but a well-lit street in South Korea with significant pedestrian traffic, gets my approval for safe.

My friend laughed, and said, "there's that latin fire," a comment I hear frequently when I have loud outbursts or display "attitude" and put people in their place. Maybe it is - but call it what you like, it gets the job done.

After that, he picked up the pace and we kept an eye on him - then I got into a cab.

Home sweet home, imnida.

___________________ ~^____________________________

Yesterday we were out filming for an English language news program pilot based on Daegu Pockets magazine. Lucky for me, the pilot had a segment based on an article I wrote last year so we got to visit some cool places.

We started off at the InterBurgo Hotel where there is the Instituto Cervantes-affiliated Centro Cultural Espanol. I met a really lovely Korean professor who had lived in Colombia and we agreed to meet up for coffee sometime. She laughed when she heard me say "chevere" because it reminded her of the good old days in Bogota. We also filmed some of the students. It was really cool for me to see Korean students speaking Spanish. Many of them were pretty shy, but they were very dedicated to their studies - a lot of them came in from out of town just to study on a Saturday. Some of them wanted it for work, to learn a language other than English, or just to travel.

After filming a segment with the anchors in a rented studio space, we went to a tex-mex restaurant. At this point, our camera man had to go, but lucky for the team, a professional cameraman from a major Korean network was available. He had filmed the magazine's executive team a few weeks before for a news show and they had kept his contact. So I got the chance to work with him, which was very cool. Through interpretation and body language, he gave really good directions. He was an intense perfectionist as well - I walked into the restaurant many times, from many angles, looking in many different directions. He explained when to hold the mic, when to wear it, and little details like - if you are going to take off your jacket, we should film you taking it off.

All that filming I've been doing at work for those ESL videos has really paid off - I stare into the camera like its the foreign guy I told off today.

After that, we filmed at our salsa class. This was funny because I clearly couldn't be like, "hey, here is some blatant self promotion! This is MY salsa class and you should come!" So Susy did a fabulous job as the singular instructor and talked up what we do. We filmed a rueda with our advanced students for b-roll - something I am very anxious to get my hands on, and talked about an ending. We needed some kind of group shot where we yell out something enthusiastically. What could we yell that isn't cheesy?

"I love salsa" was scrapped. But we agreed on turning into a vacila y sienta (basically a turn where girls end up sitting on the guys' knee with arm in the air in a very showy style) and yelled "Yo quiero salsa" which, although cheesy as in "yo quiero taco bell", was decided to be tolerable in terms of allowed levels of cheese.

A successful day, but I was tired as heck, and developed some weird red eye thing that looks like I got punched in the eye or smoked up - two things I avoid. So we ended the night with a drink and some dancing at the ghetto fabulous Old Skool. And boy, is that place ghetto. You feel like you're in a club in the states with all the military presence. And they do all their american dances, including line dances, but once in a while it has its charm. I've got a little bit of a gangster in me, or rather, an alter ego of the girl who wears Baby Phat (or fubu in korea... jajajaja) on the gangster's arm.

But as fab as ghetto can be, I get my fill real fast, and went home at the early hour of 12:30 on a Saturday night, with a role of kimbap (korean sushi) since I realized I forgot to eat.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the weekend.

jEs.

THE GYM

2010-02-17T06:40:00.000-08:00

Ahjummas, trainers, and crappy English

One of my largest pet peeves about Asia, is cutesy-nes. There is no way I will ever find a 30-year-old woman in a fluffy pink dress speaking in a baby voice charming.

So when I go to the gym in the morning, and specifically go to an empty aerobics studio to workout alone, it's because I don't want someone coming up to me and cheerfully having a conversation of pleasantries to practice their English. Which is why I avoid the new fresh-out-of-high school female trainer, who I'll call Trainer 1, because she likes to giggle and talk about shopping and boys, and just generally engages me on a level of cheerfulness that implies everything in life is peppy and super-awesome - not really sure how she helps people more than 100 pounds work out to get strong.

Some of the trainers are great - there is one guy who I'll call Trainer 2, who has actually taught me some really good exercises. And he is open about wanting to practice English - in a nice concise way - ie "give me one sentence to learn today" - which is more economical in terms of time, and is not annoying because he doesn't make me 1-skip my workout because he talks too much or 2-use a baby voice or 3- wear pink chiffon ruffles or weird 80s aerobics outfits.

However, this morning I was stretching in front of a mirror and I thought that me and my MP3 player were the only people on the floor. Trainer 2 literally popped out of nowhere and wished me a happy (Lunar) new year, then he changed the topic.

"Fat."
Huh?
"Body. Fat."
my body? his body? fat gained? fat lost?

I guess I didn't have a very pleased look on my face, because he immediately began talking about how he was training for some body building competition - and he has certainly bulked up in the suspiciously rapid way that makes me think CREATINE and STEROIDS and PROTEIN SHAKES.

But guess who else lacks cutesiness? Ahjummas.

I have developed the theory that the feisty, outspoken, brash ahjumma stereotype is a reaction to the repression that young Korean women suffered back in the day. Starving yourself over lunch with a black coffee or possibly a half a sweet potato? ANGER! Having to act like an innocent weak girl around your boyfriend so he doesn't think you're easy? ANGER! Having to wear pantyhose and "Sunday best" outfits every day complete with heat-styled hair, and having to get up extra early to get ready? ANGER!

After you're done your workout in the gym, you head to the sauna and hot tub area. There is one older woman who I see almost every day. When I have been having a conversation in English, she buts in and interrupts- even though she can't speak English. And she laughs at me in a loud brash tone for saying "I don't understand", and repeats my sentence over and over laughing. I get a huge kick out of the three layers of respect present in one instance of greeting:

Me: Anyong haseyo.

Other Lady: Anyongishimnika (other woman, older than me, but younger than her.... most formal greeting)

Ahjumma: Anyong.

Note that anyong is the LEAST formal greeting, and she is allowed to talk to us that way because she is older.

Which means the convo went something like this in English:

Me: Hello
Other Lady: Goodmorning
Ahjumma: Whats up

Every day when I greet her with an "anyonghaseyo" she nods as if she had been waiting for it, then she gives me my "anyong". Like clockwork, and the sky being blue, it's something I can count on to happen every day.

Cambio de clima

2010-02-17T03:07:00.000-08:00

It doesn't exist in North America - where it should - when you go from -30 to 35 celsius every year.

But no - it only exists in countries where, ironically, the weather doesn't change that much from season to season.

Today in Daegu, I have a cold. I was sniffling. And I was also on the phone with a friend from Peru.

"Ay Melinda, no te preocupes. Es el cambio de clima no mas."

Brings a smile to my face every time.

How tight is too tight?

2010-02-15T18:26:00.000-08:00

el pantalón apretado! a good thing?

Americans are laughing at Canadian snowboarders at this year's Winter Olympics in Vancouver, because their pants are too tight.

I wonder what they'd say about skinny jeans on guys in Korea?

A MEXICAN, A GUATEMALAN, A PUERTO RICAN, AND AN ECUADORIAN WALK INTO A BAR

2010-02-09T08:05:00.000-08:00

Writing about Seoul's Latin hot spots requires a weekend of partying - it's only responsible!

In a nutshell, me, Dalia, Sergio, and Ivan went to Seoul to eat, party, and work on an article for Daegu Pockets.

Because there were four of us, we were able to book the family seating on the KTX (Korea's bullet train), something I had never done before. We saved about $15 bucks each, and had the luxury of a table. We used this table to eat, and study Korean out loud, much to the amusement of a Korean guy who sent us a sideways glance and tried to mask a smile.

We went to a Brasilian Churrasquería place called Ipanema. Tasty - but shitty for me, because I didn't eat any of the six types of meat served on long metal skewers and sliced onto rustic wooden tablets. Great salad bar, and I charmed my way into the kitchen where I met a Korean chef who lived in Argentina and Brasil, and where Ivan snapped some pictures of the roasting hot coals.

Next up, we went to drop our bags off at our love motel. In Seoul, I usually stay at the classy Seoul Motel, in the heart of Itaewon which is just as great for morning coffee as it is for ending your night out without having to worry about a cab.

We had a lot of eating to do, so we went to La Casera for our first dinner. (what? don't judge) Owned by a bi-ethnic (mi raza) Korean-Ecuadorian from Guayaquil, the menestra, arroz, tortillas, fritada, empanadas and PATACONES are to die for and taste like those $1.50 almuerzos you can by at the beach in Manabí. As far as I know this is Seoul's only Ecuadorian restaurant. And I have a big hispanic network that I trust would have told me if there was another. I found out about this place because a Peruvian friend gave me the business card and told the owners to expect a paisana to be visiting soon. I paid for an empanada de queso y plátanos, but I got a story for free. Our server was from Peru, so, being original, I decided to make a comment about how much I love Peruvian ceviche. She immediately leaned in and looked me in the eye.
"Ceviche is an aphrodisiac. Pero lo más afrodisiaco de todo es el ceviche de concha negra."
I failed to see how feeding your man an aphrodisiac is a bad thing, but she warned me that post-ceviche de concha negra, "Mejor le digas que no!"
~~~~~
After escaping from la cuenta de nunca acabar, we went to a Puerto Rican couple Tino y Glenid's home for a party with two purposes - one, a goodbye party for the man of the house. Two - a chef team was cooking up a storm in preparation for an international competition. Arroz, frijoles, crab, flan, torta de tres leches, torta de tres leches de chocolate, crema de coco, a postre with aguacate that was surprisingly good.... and let's just say if I lived in Seoul I would be really fat.

Their place was packed and I met a lot of good people and laughed hard - my ear is also getting used to the Puerto Rican accent. I have finally gotten over the whole R turns to L thing, mujel, but I couldn't resist the hilariously technical language of my friend the linguist who said, "his syllable-final nasals are velarized."

We went dancing at Caliente, a club with a Latin, as opposed to purely salsero, feel. Tightly packed, you couldn't have crammed more Latinos into a family sleepover after Navidad in a one-bedroom apartment. Spanish! Spanish! Kisses on the cheek! and ambiente! We danced until 3am and I didn't even wear my salsa shoes. But as latino as it was, there were still brown guys who showed up.

-Excuse me. Marrock?
-(me) WHAT?
-Marrock?
-Morroco? Marruecas?
-YES!
-Sorry. E-CUA-DOR-IAN.
-But ...
-NO.

Note: asking me if I am from your country is not a clever pick up strategy. Damn this being mixed and looking ethnically ambiguous! But wait! in a spanish club, how ambiguous is my ethnicity.. really? It's like a big flashing arrow wearing a sombrero is pointed at it for you.

Back in the Seoul Motel, I fell asleep with my head beside Dalia's feet, on an overly hot Korean sleeping pad with an overly hot Korean heat lamp. In the morning, being the early riser that I am, I studied Korean and wrote article notes before Dalia stirred, but she later told me, "I heard you mumbling to yourself while you were reading."

We went for lunch at a spanish restaurant called Mi Madre. (La Tuya!) Delicious tortilla espanola, crisp baby green salad, croquettas, saffron rice that rivals Iran .. and just wait to read my article for a longer description. Rico!

The last task of the day was the most sacred one. Buying plantains.

Option one: 2m by 4m Nigerian black hair care product store. They have one cardboard box of Ecuadorian plantains that has been moved inside for the winter from its usual perch outside the door.

Option two: Call Market, a Filipino run "foreign food mart" where you can get goods from costco and off the black market, i.e. purchased on the US military base and re sold with a mark up.

I cleaned out Call Market's plantain supply, and even sent the lady to get more. But guess what happened while I was paying with my debit card? All I heard was a scream. "Melinda! Apuuuuuuuuuuuurate!" (Thanks to Ivan for immediately writing this down:)

Dalia being the dog person that she is, noticed a dog walk out of a dark bar. It was mid afternoon and sunny. A lady followed, carrying a dog, and saying, "Ugh! Disgusting man! So stress!"

Apparently a man had bought one beer, overstayed his welcome, then asked her, "Can I fuck you?"

The lady was extremely offended, and appealed to Dalia's sympathy as a woman, as she talked to her as if she was the man.

"I’m not a hooker! Do I look like a hooker? I say you look like a hooker fucker!"

Dalia asked about the dog she was carrying, but the woman ignored her and continued her rant.

"I said to him that I don’t have a pussy. I told him I went to the laundromat last night and got it stitched. I said to him, if you want a hooker, draw your favorite ass on the wall, cut a hole and fuck the wall! Save yourself 20,000won and suck your own dick!" ...as she pushed Dalia's head up and down mimicking... the motion. Guess that's why Dalia told me to hurry up so we could leave.

Then we went back to Daegu. Great weekend in Seoul.
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

borrowing spanish to talk about love

2010-02-04T19:27:00.000-08:00

Spanish as a way to articulate strong emotions.

During scenes where strong and passionate emotions relating to love and sex are exhibited, symbols of Latin-ness pop up, from music playing, to Spanish itself being spoken. Why? Because of the damn latin lover craze that is the story of my life. This means that Spanish is borrowed by decidedly non-Spanish/Latino/-a people in moments of pasión as a way of articulating these emotions, or maybe even as a fun role to step in to as they toy with being sexy following the lead of the world-class masters themselves.

Don't ask why I was watching an Afghan singer - it's a long story. Anyways regresando al tema, as I was listening to afghan singer Valy sing about Setara-jaan, my ears perked up when the Dari lyrics were suddenly interrupted by a low female voice. "Hola mi amor" followed by the obviously spanish (and I mean SPAIN when I say Spanish) "te echo de menos."

And this guy doesn't even respond to her in Spanish - he replies in English, which suggests he doesn't speak any Spanish (same goes for her with that accent), underscoring the fact that "spanish-ness" is just being borrowed. But why? Well the girl is lying down, and suggestively toying with a pearl necklace [Her hand obscuring part of the necklace makes it either an ambiguous tasbeh, or rosary (am I the only person who turns rosaries into a sexual symbol?)], and clearly spelling out that she is there to represent sexiness - punto. And what comes out of this symbol of sexiness? Spanish! The rest of the video is him dancing about alone. Spanish only enters the scene in an intimate moment between lovers. He is alone in his (souped up) car, she is lying down seductively. When the lovers conversation stops, so does the Spanish.

I was thinking about this when I watched Korean drama Coffee Prince. There's a scene when Eun Sae (protagonist Go Eun Chan's sister) is outside with the sexy and unfortunately dead (que descanse en paz) Lee Eon. As he goes crazy with love for her, he starts running up and down an alley. As he begins this frenzied display of emotion, what else starts to play, but Latin music.

And what about Sex and the City? Samantha's lesbian lover María is from Brasil, but she talks like a vata loca from Compton and addresses her ambiguously pan-latin friends as chica. When they get into a lovers quarrel, María displays her fiery Latin passion by throwing plates. To what? You guessed it. A soundtrack of Latin music.

What surprises me is the extent to which Latin-ness has penetrated the world as the best code through which to act out sexiness and love. I even notice Koreans letting themselves go more than usual in a salsa environment - Latin dance is a safe, and appropriate realm to be sexy - well, so is comedy.

This is one of my favourite subjects to discuss, so expect more on the matter.

La Bendita.

UNA QUEJA

2010-02-01T06:48:00.000-08:00

Nativohablante de quefffff

Estoy harta de que me digan que tengo un acento hispano. Claro que hablo español. Pero soy canadiense y a lo mejor tengo acento canadiense al hablar español. Pues tengo un montón de ejemplos de cómo la gente ven mi ciudadanía mexicana (soy ecuatoriana) pero hoy voy a enfocar un una de las incidencias que me parece más interesante por su naturaleza sutil.

Hace más de un año empecé a ser una de los rockstars de los videos que mi compañía usa para las tareas que los niños usan en el Internet. Hice mi audición y de una me contrataron y filmaba casi todos los días un par de meses. Pero un día me dijeron “no estás en el Schedule para la otra semana.” La semana siguiente pasé por el estudio de film para recoger el Schedule para la semana siguiente. Otra vez el gerente del equipo de film hizo una mueca y me dijo que no iba a estar en el Schedule de la semana que venía pero seguro para la próxima. Ya estaba acostumbrada a la forma de hablar super indirecta de algunos países de habla hispano y reconocía el rechazo… pues seguía con la grabación de voz que estaba haciendo pero no volví a hacer video.

Pues unos meses después me topé con la mera mera, la gran jefa coreana de la oficina quien es pariente de nuestro CEO, en la coffee room de la oficina principal donde trabajo ahora. Platicamos un rato, y muy amable me preguntó por qué no estaba haciendo filming. Le dije que no tenía idea pero que siempre me gustaba hacerlo. Algunas horas después me llamaron para venir el día siguiente. Como solían hacer me dieron el guión para leer de antemano. Era muy corto para una sesión de 1.5 horas, lo normal de la oficina. Cuando llegue el día siguiente mi partner de filming me preguntó si estaba lista para mi audición. Audición? Pues ya lo había hecho antes, para que una audición. Después de terminar la sesión, llegó una de las gerentes para ver el video. Lo vio y después de 5 minutos lo aprobó y me pusieron en el Schedule de nuevo empezando la semana después.

Por qué me quejo? Sigue leyendo.

Durante la fiesta de navidad del trabajo el año pasado, platicaba con un amigo de la compañía con quien actuaba en los videos. Me dijo en confidencia, y por eso escribo en español, que me habían cortado de la lista de actores porque alguien, al redactar uno de los videos, escuchó mi acento hispano.

Acento hispano? Pues nací en Canadá y crecí hablando mucho más inglés que español, especialmente con mi mama, quien es 100% menonita, gringa, canadiense, blanca. Como estudiante de lingüística, esto me ofendía no por sugerir que soy aún más latina – de eso soy super orgullosa – pero me ofendía el intelecto porque es imposible. Los nativohablantes desarrollan sus acentos de niño y aunque nadie sabe 100%, mucho estudios sugieren que la edad crítica para aprender un nuevo idioma y hablarlo como nativohablante es 12 o 13 años. Pero olvidando eso, como así un acento ecuatoriano de haber nacido y crecido en Canadá?

La mera mera, después de encontrarse conmigo en la coffee room, se había dirigido a mi amigo quien tenía muchos amigos latinos en Canadá, y le preguntó si yo tuviera un acento hispano. Le dijo que no, y la jefa se puso a ver videos de mi para llegar a conclusión que no tenía acento hispano y quedaron con la idea de hacer una nueva audición.

Pero me quedé pensando en como podía haberles dejado con la impresión que no hablo mi idioma materno como… idioma materno.

Pues la única cosa que pudiera haber hecho aparecer un fantasma de acento es mi aspecto físico. Mis facciones latinas. O sea, una suposición de cómo soy basada en mi apariencia. Esto no se llama estereotipo o racismo?

Soy Latina. Eso es mi identidad. Me identifico como una persona de color. Y diría que hay un acento “urban” que los que no son blancos usan en Norteamérica para hablar inglés. Por eso se puede decir “you talk white” en el barrio – se escucha una diferencia. Tal vez hablaba con mi acento “urban” por un rato y lo grabaron? Tal vez hacía uno de mis chistes con un acento hispano un ratito y grabaron eso? (jes)

Pero no creo. Cuando tienes un “eerie feeling” que algo podría ser basado en el racismo sutil, usualmente estás correcto.

Hablamos de una forma entre amigos, entre amantes, en la oficina, con la familia, cuando queremos que alguien nos haga un favor. Hablamos de otra forma cuando somos de dos culturas o más como yo y cuando uno vive esta mezcla diariamente.

Pero hay que reconocer que hay estratificación lingüística. Tenemos la asociación de ciertos rasgos lingüísticos con hablantes pertenecientes a uno u otro grupo socio-económico cultural, para prestar una idea de la lingüista Silva-Corvalán. Entonces no funciona al revés? O sea, deciden que soy de un cierto grupo y después me pintan con características que este supuesto grupo supuestamente tiene.

Decir que tengo un acento hispano no es un cumplido. Lo que nadie dijo, la razón de no querer esta forma de hablar como modelo para los niños coreanos es que mi habla como hispanohablante sea incorrecta porque no pertenece a una persona blanca que representa el ejemplo ejemplar del ingles perfecto. Ser blanco es ser más autentico como ingléshablante. Qué lástima cuando hay tantas personas multilingües con una variedad de acentos que son más que capaces de enseñar inglés. Y ahorita me cago de la risa pensando en como tenía que esforzarme para mejorar mi español y distanciarme del ingles, cuando tal vez debo hacer mas esfuerzo que me acepten…. como nativohablante…. de mi idioma nativo.

Chuta.

Akihabara

2010-01-29T02:25:00.000-08:00

MAID CAFES, GEEKS, AND NON-SEXUAL PORN

Today I found a new place to drink coffee: a maid cafe. check this link out for the english version of the site and read more about cosplay cafes in general

Heading up the escalator, I was the only woman.
These were a few of the pics on the walls.

We had to wait outside, and were told not to take pictures. girls in french maid outfits were visible inside. A man in a suit came up to us and asked us how we would like to be addressed by the maids. I opted for my name with "san" at the end, for respect.

When we walked in, a maid immediately kneeled before us and said in Japanese, "welcome home master".

I was expecting to see big dorks and computer geek types inside, but was surprised at how normal most of the people looked. I was the only woman customer, however.

I watched as one normal looking guy transformed into a geek - he looked like he was about to clap his hands in delight as a maid served him his cutesey pancake cut into a shape, and then proceeded to draw a cutesy design on it in chocolate syrup. Then she sang a song, got him to join in with the singing and hand gestures, then they both made the heart hand shape:

I ordered spaghetti. Instead of drawing a picture, the maid mixes it for you. She also made me repeat her song, and we made heart hands and put "love" into the spaghetti together. We also did this for my melon soda - she asked, "which kind of straw is your mood?" I went with pink. And in went the love from me, her, and my companion.

I have a card as proof of my visit. It says "-san"

Next up in Akihabara, was a porn store - or rather, floors and floors of porn in a casually almost unmarked building that looks like any old apartment, save for a small sign:

I’m no expert in this field, but what blew me away was the lack of overt sexuality in the films I saw. I guess that’s fetish culture – maybe you’re just really into watching athletes stretch, or watching a stiletto crush a giant tarantula. De gustos y colores no discuten los doctores, meng. And also, they were soo darn specific. Not just “tennis players” – but looking at the inner lining of tennis shorts worn over regular undergarments. No sex. Just straight up voyeurism.

As a disclaimer, my friend told me, “you’re gonna see stuff so freaky that you won’t even believe it’s in a sex shop because it’s that weird – it doesn’t even look like porn.”

I didn’t get it until I saw what we were dealing with. Here’s a list of a few DVD themes I saw that made me go WTF. The good news for those of you who go “hey, I’ve always liked that but thought I was all alone” is that you can feel at home in Akihabara.

La Bendita’s “wtf” Fetish List:

Samba Fetish: women wearing carnaval costumes

Lining/underwear-that-is-attached-to-a-tennis-skirt/shorts (worn over regular panties) Fetish

Women beating up men Fetish: gangs of teenage girls beat up a man while he cowers in a corner with a nosebleed

Jumping Fetish: girls jumping onto a man that is lying on a pile of sand

Swimmer Fetish: women wearing one-piece speedos chilling by the pool

Amazon Woman Fetish: amazon woman beats up a guy

Stretching Fetish: Stretching before a track and field meet

Muscle Woman Fetish: muscular woman exercising in a hotel room

Sneezing Fetish: just a video of people sneezing

Pianist Foot Fetish: watching feet play the piano. sometimes in stockings or shoes. but just feet pressing the piano pedals shot from below the knee

Strong-woman-crushing-shit Fetish: a strong woman crushing food and pop cans with her hands

Stilletto+Food Punishment Fetish: woman mashing food with stilettos then forcing a man to eat it while he lies on the floor and she kicks food into his mouth and steps on him

Mask-woman goes Sightseeing Fetish: a man puts a natural looking human FACE mask on a woman then takes her out to go sightseeing. She rides in a car, then drinks pop on a ferry ride
-all while wearing a mask.

But we agreed that this was the ultimate weirdest: Big-woman-crushing-a city-Fetish: a woman wearing a bikini stomps over a city much like king kong. She crushes buildings, cars, and even the bullet train.

After all of that, I needed some fresh air. We went for a walk and saw this couple

then ended up eating tempura cooked by this guy:

Reports about Tokyo nightlife and the salsa scene coming next.

Harajuku

2010-01-28T07:46:00.001-08:00

SUSHI, SHOPPING, AND PANTIES IN HARAJUKU

Today I did a rare thing - I slept in. As a person who usually bounces out of bed when it's still dark outside, I was definitely busting up my routine. Kaz's girlfriend Kyoko-chan was already gone for work -she's a fashion designer - so Kaz and I made a pot of coffee with the greca (Puerto Rico) / stove top espresso maker [s.t.e.m. (canada)] / moka pot (korea) and looked into Tokyo areas. I like shopping. I like people watching. And I like weird subculture.

I settled on Harajuku for my first day of exploration. Harajuku is known for intense funky fashion . It's so well-known that even Gwen Stefani tried to become a Harajuku girl (she also tried and failed miserably to look latina in one video) and ended up making a perfume: http://www.hlfragrance.com/. But when you think of crazy Japanese street fashion and cosplay (from Costume Play, where people dress like actual anime characters or little bo peep a.k.a. Lolita) this is the neighbourhood that will give you your fix.

(I took this pic last April the last time I was in Tokyo)

Leaving Kaz to work on a "dance-techno-jpop" track, I threw a Tokyo subway map into my bag, and headed out to navigate Tokyo's massive subway line. Harajuku wasn't too bad - Only one transfer away. Much like Korea, everything is in English. There are electronic signs that tell you to the minute what time your train will come, which side of the train to get off, and where to transfer.

In Harajuku, I checked out the Nike Store. Designed by Masamichi Katayama, the interior has turned the Nike shoe into art using shoelaces, mesh uppers, and bits of rubber soles to make collages. I tend to splurge more on heels and other footwear that causes immediate reactions of "fierce" to pulsate through my body, but it was really cool to see people sitting down with nike "consultants" to design their own shoe. I saw one couple repeatedly changing the colour of a shoe's sole. Did he want periwinkle, or midnight blue? Ay yi yiii

Next I spent a ridiculous amount of time shopping in Forever 21, and various vintage stores. I was assisted by a girl who looked exactly like Little Bo Peep. Rosy cheeks, and layers of lace, crinolines and white cotton eyelets that belong in a picnic by the river in the 19th century. Now customer service is GOOD in Korea, but I feel like there is an extra smile and bow here in Japan. The lady took the basket of clothes I wanted to try on and folded them for me - in the reverse order that they were placed in the basket. That's right - she arranged them in the order I had grabbed them off the racks! And of course, you must take off your shoes before entering the change room - but come on, you knew that already.

Today I saw a lot of people wearing Russian Hats.

Yeah, just like this guy - but on a cute and stylish Japanese young woman with a miniskirt and knee socks - and yes, this is what people are wearing in WINTER.

Next I went to a coffee shop to wait for Kaz. I sat down to do some writing and continue to force myself to make a decision via writing about what I am going to do with my life. But I got distracted by two things. First, I was watching a teenage girl beside me in the middle of an intensely long makeup process. This girl applied black pencil eyeliner and fake lashes, in little groups of three or four, while her coffee sat in front of her. She and her friend were in high school uniforms and I got the impression they were transforming themselves for a wild night out.

And secondly, there was a white American guy talking loudly. Why does this always happen? I mean a loud, arrogant white guy, who speaks at a volume that booms over everyone else. And I guess when you live in Asia as a foreigner, you get used to tuning things out. I can sit peacefully in a coffee shop in Korea and ignore everyone if I want to. But hearing him speak in my native tongue forced me to listen. And now I know lots about him. He's an artist. He's a musician. He is a reformed playa. Sitting with his female companion, he then moved on to his sexual exploits dating 6 women at once when he first arrived in Japan. His companion was Peruvian - my ears first perked up when I heard a Spanish accent speaking English - jes- but I almost wanted to tell her en español, lady, your companion is a douche. Find another gringo.

Once Kaz arrived we walked around Harajuku entering a hat store, piled high with old-skool hat boxes, marc by marc jacobs where i decided i didn't need a new wallet after all, and went for a delicious sushi dinner at a restaurant with a rotating belt. I only eat thin slices of sashimi because the texture weirds me out, and of course we drank green tea - do-it-yourself with green tea powder and a hot water dispenser. Before meeting up with Kyoko-chan for drinks at a traditional Japanese sake and plum wine bar, we went for a walk in the Love Motel district.

I was curious - I wanted to see a weird freaky japanese fetish store. You always hear about strange sexual fetishes in Japan, from bukake porn to anime character fun, but certainly one of the most talked-about specialties is the "used panty craze". As we walked by one store, Kaz read in Japanese, "used lingerie". I'm no 변태 - and neither is Kaz (^-^) but I decided that I had to check this one off the list.

So on my insistence (I promised Kaz I would write this in a way that doesn't make him look like a perv so let's be clear that it was my idea to go in) we went in. The store had extremely narrow aisles, of the type where if you ran into someone else you would be forced to squeeze by them, making bumping into someone in a sex shop all the more awkward. There was a dude at the counter with long stringy bleached hair who didn't even look up when we walked in. And then I saw them.

There were two shelves of panties neatly folded into squares and placed in identical plastic packages. They sat in plastic trays, and had labels in Japanese. I picked up a few packages to examine them. Most of the labels said, "High School Girl" but one said "Older Beautiful Lady" - those were beige and cotton.. jajaja

After passing by the strap-ons, I decided that I'd had enough and we left.

CHECK!

From the tips of their toes in Tokyo

2010-01-27T03:53:00.000-08:00

From the second I arrived in the Tokyo boarding area at the airport, I saw a lot of Timberlands / re-constructed (ha!) construction type and chunky boots on guys. This trend has not reached Daegu.

Girls are also doing interesting things with leg wear – layering colourful or patterned knee-socks over black tights, and industrial (evoking 95-95) or desert boots (80s) are the footwear that’s hot, as are black versions of the J-Lo Manolo Blahnik tims. You’ve got to give it to your Seoul and Tokyo saram... they know how to dress.

Images borrowed from style-arena.jp

Daegu-Incheon-Tokyo: from the airport

2010-01-26T16:47:00.000-08:00

When I fly out of Korea, I can choose between leaving from Incheon, a suburb of Seoul about a 4.5 hour bus ride away, or Busan, which is a 1 hour ride.

The Busan flight was at a crappy time, and was more expensive.

So I set off for Incheon in the middle of the night, on the “airport limousine bus”. The slightly more expensive bus (35 000 won) has seats that are more like a Laz-E-Boy. Huge, they lean back and have foot rests. Standard bus etiquette is to sleep – maybe that’s why people pay more – they expect to catch some zzs – and I have been told to shut up on more than one occasion. This time I slept for four hours straight, opening and closing my eyes briefly at the rest stop, then woke up right at the door of the airport.

I work pretty hard in Korea. A full time job, media work that gives me overtime, salsa, freelance writing, and dreaming about what I want to do with my life...it can wear a woman out. So when I decide to vacation, I like to spoil myself.

Incheon is a huge airport that puts Toronto’s Pearson to shame. Full of designer stores, cafes, restaurants, a muslim prayer room, beauty salons and more, I had budgeted my time to explore the airport and enjoy a little bit of pampering before flying out. So I headed to the basement to the sauna. Now a sauna in Korea is not simply a steam room with the possibility of a hot tub. You can rent private nap rooms, or just sleep on one of the heated floors – a cheaper alternative for those who don’t want to go to a hotel - and enjoy hot tubs of various temperatures, steam and salt rooms.

A close cousin of the more elaborate jimjilbang, upon arrival at the sauna you are given a key, a towel, and a shorts and t-shirt combo that looks like high school gym class. You lock up your shoes in a shoe locker. Then go into the change room that matches your sex. Looking at the menu of services, I settled on a “scrub”. The thai massage was a whopping 110,000 won – (about $100 CA) which is a crime when you have memories of paying $6 for an hour of full-body massage in Thailand itself, which Ainy describes as “stretching your body without having to do any work yourself.”

I have seen these scrub-downs in Jimjilbangs and saunas. An ahjumma, or older woman, usually wearing a black lacey bra and panty set, prepares a massage table. I have seen cucumber slices placed on faces, mud and salt rubbed over skin, and vigorous vigorous rubbing.

My ahjumma was also wearing some gym class shorts on top of her bra and panty set. She dumped a bucket of water over the table and told me to lie down. She put on an exfoliating mitt, and got to work scrubbing my body. Starting at my feet, she really left only the most intimate of places un-touched. The scrub down was so damn vigorous, that my body was raw, and I debated telling her to stop, or say, “that’s enough!” more than once. But I didn’t want to be a wimp – and I wanted to see what the full treatment was anyways. First I lay on my back. Then my side. Then the other side, then on my stomach. Then we did it all over again. I don’t think I’ve been this well-exfoliated in a long time. So I went into the steam room to complete the purification process. And then feeling like my entire body was exactly the same texture as a baby’s ass, I proceeded to leisurely apply creams and make-up, and emerged glowing.

Then it was time to check-in. I was wondering why there were so many Americans. How do I know they are American (soldiers)? First of all, the un-becoming crew cut that so many white and Hispanic soldiers sport. At least most military black guys have the decency to shave their heads with a proper fade. I mean, why the hell would you get a crew cut when you can have the perfectly acceptable and arguably more attractive evenly shaved head? Sometimes I get exasperated when men ruin their look – I firmly beleive that it’s way easier to be a hot guy than a hot girl.

The other military sign is the camo backpack. Yeah. Anyways a lady came by with cards promoting some service that I didn’t catch, and only handed them out to Koreans. She started at the back of the line, and would sometimes step slightly in front of someone, or move up just enough to see the side of their face, before approaching them. This was her checking to see if they are Korean. I find this hilarious – often when I am downtown, people tap me on the shoulder to ask for directions. When I turn around, and they see a foreign face, they walk away. This also happens from the front when I wear sunglasses. I chalk it up to my decidedly Korean 5’3 stature and skin colouring – Sharifa would often lose me in a sauna without her glasses because naked, I blend in pretty well.

Back to the line? A flight attendant came by and spoke to only the Korean people in the line – in Korean. I watched her as she skipped the foreigners, talked to Koreans, and then the Koreans would leave the line and go to a First Class area with no line up. When she approached the couple in front of me, I finally heard what she was saying. She was offering them the chance to by-pass the long line with “self check in”. I followed the Korean couple and let her know, in Korean, that I was also going to Tokyo and would also like to go with the self-check-in option. She smiled courteously with a slight bow of the head and said, “ne.” My Korean is far from perfect, but I still have to laugh at the fools that don’t even bother to learn how to read the alphabet (and I am solely judging those who stay in Korea to work for more than a year, which definitely justifies learning to read Hangeul, a feat which can be accomplished in one day minus a few tricky pronunciation glitches which can be smoothed out in a short time) and miss out on opportunities to usurp “Korean only” opportunities.

One more airport feature that stands out is the collection of "Traditional Korean Areas". Women dressed in Hanbok speak English and teach you how to make a traditional craft for free. I made a little wooden desk today as I chatted with the ladies in Konglish, and listened to a traditional music performance. Last year I decorated a plate with coarse traditional paper which my mother has.

Next up... stories from Tokyo itself. I'm staying with Kaz, a friend I met about 12 years ago who went to high school and university with me.

Who pays on the first date?

2010-01-24T06:35:00.000-08:00

I originally wrote this as a facebook note and had a lot of feedback, so here it is again:

We were sitting in the office and the question of who pays on a first date comes up. For me it was simple, “the guy pays, because it’s the first date.”

I have developed a technique where I fiddle with my wallet, slowly sliding it out of my bag. When it lands on the table, I let my fingers hover over the clasp of the wallet and wait for him to notice. I will offer to pay. At this point, I expect the guy to insist on paying. I might even offer once more, but on the second, weak offer, my wallet will already have slowly started to slide back into my purse. And you can bet I’ll be on the phone complaining to my friends the next day if I end up paying for the check.

However, my co-worker didn’t let me get away with it. “If women and men are equal, then they are equally free to pay for the cheque. It’s equal to go dutch.”

My thoughts? The guy pays, and the sky is blue. There are certain things that you don’t question – it’s just good manners.

Or is it? I wholeheartedly agree that it’s a great thing to go dutch once you’re past the first, or second date – this rule doesn’t apply to relationships - i.e. “I’ve got dinner, so you’ll get the movie tomorrow.”

But I’m also a feminist – not the bra-burning variety - I firmly believe that men and women should have equal access to opportunities. I also believe that men and women are different – and I like this to be recognized. Gender might be a performance, and I occasionally play a hyper-traditional role – but I still expect a guy to know that I am also going to step out of that role at some point.

So why is paying considered good manners? What does the man picking up the check symbolize? Are its roots in an archaic time where the man is the provider and the woman is expected to be a homemaker? Does it imply that a woman is weak, or does she owe the man something after letting him pay, such as her time and conversation, or more? Is a man paying on the first date today symbolic of him showing his potential to financially provide for you? Am I reinforcing gender roles by expecting the guy to pay?

I was always pushed to excel, a student council member and honour roll student who played classical piano instead of watching TV. I wasn’t supposed to grow into a woman that NEEDS someone to pay – which I don't. But I do expect it.

One thing I do know, is that most Latin Americans would be horrified that I am even asking this question. “What! Que horror! He actually had the audacity to take you out and not pay? Eso no es correcto!”

I am also going to take a moment to point out that latin dance, i.e. salsa, mimics these gender roles, with the man leading and having full control of where the couple goes, as the woman follows and is attentive to his every movement.

Back in Canada, I was raised in two households – and the Ecuadorian one was a place where “no decent girl goes to a guy’s house” and where my guy friends, forget boyfriends, were expected to “have the decency to walk you home” and on my first date my dad said, “I will drive you there – and bring a baseball bat”. I got away with hitting my brother, but if he looked at me the wrong way, “Nicolas! You don’t hit to a woman!” My dad always walked on the car side of the road, and carried my bags. My younger brother regularly gives me rides and he, too, carries my bags. Both are quick to label guys that upset me either “a vulture/shark/buitre/tiburon” (Jaime senior) or “a douche” (Jaime junior). Melindita la hermanita mijita chiquitita is sugar and spice and everything will be nice, by family standards,… provided that she is going out with guys that pay for her.

When I lived in Guatemala and Ecuador, I did like walking around with a guy. 1) it makes unwanted guys eff off – with the exception of fresh ones who yell “primo!” or “cunhado!” 2) It is safer in areas where crime is a concern. And what happens when you are constantly with a guy? You constantly get things paid for.

One of the beautiful things about being bi-cultural is taking bits and pieces of all of your cultures, and re-inventing and re-working them in a way that fits for you. My Canadian side keeps me feisty and independent and my Latina side puts life, colour, and passion into my feminine identity. Identity is fluid, and today, I’m a feminist that still expects the guy to pay. Colorin, colorado, el cuento se ha acabado.

Mountains, coffee, and dreams

2010-01-18T04:42:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a dream that I carried my 6-year-old self up a mountain. As I carried myself, I noticed that I was both chubby, and very cute. I was also wearing white thick tights with patent leather mary janes, which is probably why I wore thick grey tights a la Catholic high school uniform to work today.

But the going up the mountain image makes sense because I've been pretty tired, nursing a cold that destroyed my voice and which disgusting cigarette smoke aggravated over the weekend. Maybe we shouldn't have ordered three pitchers of margaritas at Asha's welcome dinner on Friday night. But it was tex mex night, dammit, and like I said, us Mexicans have to represent.

At the top of the mountain I arrived at Vicky's wedding reception.... prima is not the only one dreaming about her wedding apparently. (Get ready for your "international salsa instructor" to arrive just for the wedding....)

I have a nasty cold, and it was rough getting through the weekend. Try screaming "pa' 'bajo... Y!" over and over at a roomful of salsa students with a voice, already strained by a cold, that rapidly declined to a raspy 1-900 level. My voice is so altered, in fact, that moonkkang did not want me to record today. "It wouldn't be appropriate for children," I agreed with the sound engineer.

However, cold aside, wearing a cute new jumpsuit and "impact" bright red lipstick helped me to feel excited about strutting my stuff on Saturday night. So much so, that I decided to get on a mini stage and dance with blonde Korean Harry Potter and an entertaining Irish (I think) guy.

Exciting changes to salsa? Susy and I are teaching with Freeman, a cuban-style instructor who is going to Japan in two months. We will eventually be taking over his students, so at the moment, the three of us are teaching together. I have noticed that the guys who dance cuban style have a hell of a lot more "sabor" (flavour) than most other korean dancers. He trains his students to lead so well, it never ceases to amaze me. I couldn't stop exclaiming over the strong lead of one of the korean guys who got all embarrassed answering my compliments with, "Sorry, no English". So I told him in Korean, that he dances like a latino, and he managed to giggle while simultaneously leading me in a turn.

As an instructor, my biggest pet peeve is "flaccid spaghetti arm" and people violating the simple rule of this: the man leads, the woman follows. Sometimes I get so mad, I yell "man up!" to the guys, and tell the girls, "if you don't need someone to lead you, then dance by yourself."

Korean lessons

I have been taking private Korean lessons once a week since June. I have been exposed to a lot since then, little of which has been fully absorbed, but it has made a major difference in my life here. But now my teacher has accepted a university teaching position in China and will be leaving next month. I will definitely be sad to see her go - we have bonded during our one-on-one lessons and often go for dinner together after class.

She has taught me many things about Korea. Her take on the "personal" questions many people ask you when they first meet you (how old are you, are you married, what's your job) is that it's just a way to get closer, to learn more about you. She also gets points from me, because she teaches the YMCA's free lessons for female immigrants who are married to Korean men ("International Marriage Women" by the Y's terminology)- and these women often can barely communicate with their husbands.

Terrorism

Forget Al Qaeda. The real terrorists are 7-year-old Korean children who are reacting to being forced to study English locked in a dungeon - otherwise known as their personal study room.

This kid I am teaching was stressing me out. He gives me charlie horses, runs out of the room, and tried to shoot rubber bands at me. I made the charlie horse thing worse because I taught him the English word. So now, he'll start giggling and get a mischivieous glare in his eyes. He looks up at me and says slowly, "Teacher... charlie horse?" And then he dives for my thigh and throws all 20 pounds of his body into his fist.

This is bad because I suck at discipline. Yelling at him in Korean didn't work, and his mother doesn't do anything. One day he wanted to go to the bathroom, and I told him to wait five minutes. He proceeded to point to his crotch, say bathroom, then dropped his pants. How many more Korean males are going to flash me? Honestly!

Coffee Class

Because I love coffee and because I need it, and so one can "impress their friends" (thanks Ivan). I am taking a coffee course where we have learned how to make various kinds of coffee - from stove top espresso makers (greca in puerto rico), to hand drip, to weird contraptions that look like they belong in a mad scientist's lab in the 1800s. Next week is latte art, where I will have a chance to draw finicky little designs, a very "Melinda" thing that I usually take out on my nails, face, and in anything I bake. Here are some pics.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2343358&id=120806589&l=87ad7f8fa4

Also do check out Ivan's blog. He's a great writer and this explains a lot of what we do here in Korea... but sorry folks, only in Spanish. I was explaining to him my dilemma of wanting to write about things that might potentially offend people in Korea to which he wisely stated, "That's why I write in Spanish."

http://ivanenkorea.com/

Free Hugs.
Just when you think you're getting used to Korea, you see random things like this that surprise you.
Last week after coffee class, I headed out with Ivan and Sunny. Free hugs were available from a group of girls and we went for it.

This week it was a group of middle or high school boys with their big signs in English and Korean. Ivan looks like a photographer. He has a large camera with a huge lens, and he is a foriegner. So he stopped, and took photos of this row of boys. They noticed. Then I walked towards them. The courtyard cleared. no one else was going for their free hug at this moment. I went up to the row of guys with my arms outstretched, and they all froze. As I wondered, hey, where's my free hug, it also ocurred to me that i had a choice... of.... adolescent boys. Not cool. Anyways finally one of them came forward and swept me into a bear hug. Here's a three-step photo interpretation so you can see the confident fellow.

I'll leave with a few tidbits before I press "publish".

I'm going to Japan next week to spend some time in Tokyo with Kaz. Dozo!

Number of times I've been flashed by a Korean male in the last six months: 2

P.S. to those who have asked, incidents such as these are not considered accurate data for size-related questions.

Surprising discovery: I make the same monthly salary as an entry-level Samsung engineer

Interesting exchange with a Mexican-American:

Melinda: Well, people usually think I'm Mexican.

Arthur: Yeah! Doesn't that bother you?

Melinda: Wait - aren't you Mexican?

Arthur: Yeah. But it still bothers me that people assume it.

I'm actually working here, no posing whatsoever, which means this is probably exactly what I look like RIGHT NOW.

The Wedding Factory

2010-01-03T04:54:00.000-08:00

This Sunday I had a dilemma. There were two weddings: one was at 11:50am, and the other at 12:10 noon. Sound like an awkward time? This type of scheduling is actually the norm - it's the only way to keep up a consistent high turnover: at the second hall, weddings were scheduled at 20 minute intervals. I was forced to choose one because they were at opposite ends of the city, and this is what I saw:

~~~

I took the subway to "Vienna Wedding". As I approached this wedding hall, people were spilling out of the four-storey building. Dressed in their Sunday best, most people were wearing black, except for a sprinkling of older people in colourful Korean traditonal clothing, or hanbok.

There were so many people milling about the lobby that the elevator was out of the question, and I was getting shoved and elbowed left, right and centre. I took the stairs, and an opportunity to check out a guy's auburn-highlighted perm as he yelled into his headset and directed human traffic into a room on a floor I passed.

It was 12:00, ten minutes before my friends wedding was supposed to start. Another wedding was still going on. The bride for the wedding I was about to attend, was in a tiny room where people could go to say hi and take pictures with her. I would argue that this is one of the only moments guests get to spend with the actual couple. There is also an area where you pay - money is traditionally given in a simple white envelope, with the contributor's name written on the outside. In exchange for your contribution, you get a numbered meal ticket.

As I put my money in an envelope, I was greeted by my friend's parents. His mother was in a hanbok, and his father was in a western suit. Both wore whtie gloves. They brought him over in his shiny grey suit with thick pastel piping - he also had a tousled piecy "bed head" look - the first time I had ever seen his hair styled. I said congratulations, he said thanks for coming, and that was all I saw of him for the rest of the day.

There were so many people that we didn't get a seat. We stood outside the room of the actual ceremony where we could watch it on a big screen where we could see the couple standing at a "secular altar" - Secular, because the man conducting the ceremony is not a priest. According to my Korean friend So-yeon, the ideal candidate to conduct the ceremony is an older man in a respected or high-ranking position, such as a university professor. She paid about $100 for the man who married her, and was able to tailor the style of ceremony to her needs, which in her case meant throwing in a few bible passages for her husband's religious family.

The ceremony itself was quick, and I didn't understand a word of it. Even if I had better Korean, I would not have been able to hear anything as people were milling about the lobby which made the big-screen Samsung impossible to hear.

Then comes the time for a few symbolic gestures. At the weddings I have attended over the last year and a half, I have seen a few common elements to these short ceremonies. In addition to one woman whose role is the Bride's Assistant (basically rearranging her dress every time she takes a step), there are often a few ladies dressed in what look like flight attendant uniforms with white gloves and sailor's caps. A champagne pouring contraption is often brought out, and the couple does a "couple shot" where they intertwine arms before sipping from their own glass. This happened at this particular wedding.

In terms of entertainment, sometimes a relative or friend will sing a song or play an instrument. I once saw a kid play an off-tune cello solo, and have also seen Karaoke-style serenades where bubbles were released and disco-lights started.

The groom often displays a physical feat, which I choose to read as a symbol of his strength and corresponding health and virility for that special night. He might get down on his white-gloved hands, and do a push-up with the bride sitting on his back. I have also seen a guy run a lap around the wedding hall room - no easy feat with huge hanbok skirts and guests in the way in the aisles.

After the ceremony, a series of pictures are taken. The first is of the couple with their immediate family. Parents are dressed in hanbok. Then comes the extended family, and then friends separately. I have also seen "foreign friends" and "Korean friends" separated as well.

The last shot of the photo shoot involved staging a bridal bouquet toss. As the guests, we were carefully arranged by the photographer aroung the couple. Our job was to smile and clap, as the bride tossed the bouquet towards.... the groom - three times.

But now all the friends were there - before the ceremony was over, people had already begun to walk out of the hall. They were headed for the buffet. The entire second floor of the building was dedicated to a huge cafeteria with white-table clothes and a buffet full of Korean food, salads, sushi, rice cakes, rices (of course I intend this to be plural), soups, meats, friend veggies, and an entire section dedicated to various types of kimchi.

When you walk in, someone snatches your ticket. All of the tables were full in this huge room. With my group of friends, we decided to separately scope out a spot. The only option was to hover over other people as they ate and wait for them to peace out. When we saw some people starting to pack their purses and stand, we ran over and pounced on the free seats before the waiters could make it to clear the plates.

How long did the whole she-bang take? An hour and a half. May they live happily ever after.

2010-01-03T04:51:00.000-08:00

STATS

Creepy pick-up attempts at a wedding by Korean men who speak fluent English: 2
Number of guys who walked into work with a fresh perm this week: 1
Types of kimchi currently in my fridge: 2
Roadtrip of the week: UNESCO heritage sight and Silla Dynasty capital Gyeongju
Latest published article: Jan. 2010 issue available for viewing at daegupockets.com Winning quote said to me: "I tried your gingerbread. I think you will be a good wife."
Ridiculous purchase of the week: fake gold chains laid out on a blanket in the subway in Seoul for $3 a pop.
Writing Tip: Periodically ask yourself "who cares" as you are writing. You will be surprised at how much you cut.
Guy who everyone thought was my boyfriend: My BROTHER
Korean language issue of the week/mockery of Melinda:
(This is primarily for Yuri and will be expanded on when I have access to a Korean keyboard)

"HA HA HA MELINDA! say 까지 now say 같이!"

Merry X-rated XMAS: My brother delivered a number of presents for me. One of my requests was a selection of lingerie from La Senza. The card on the present was signed by mom, Paul, and Nicolas. What did Paul write? "Make sure to show the boy a good time."
note: he did not know what was in the package... LOL

Korean or Cuban? El arroz con gris
For our Christmas dinner, I decided to cook something vegetarian. I went with a big pot of cuban black beans and rice, even taking the time to verify the recipe with a cuban I know who cooks well. When it was time to pack up, I was shocked that no one ate it - people thought it was Korean rice with black beans - a distinctly different flavour - but a strikingly similar appearance.

band that I like: http://jeites.blogspot.com/

I heard this on the very secluded Bottle Beach in Thailand. Spanish? Chica? Spanish! yes! I asked the laid back dude who worked there, and he disappeared into a back room. The music stopped, then he came out a second later with a CD-R with "JEITES.BLOGSPOT.COM" written in black permanent marker in stylized capital letters that were hard to read. They were from Argentina and had left the CD a few months before during their stay. check out "si vos queres" on the player on the main page.
Purchase I am ashamed of: faux UGGS. I have hated these fugly boots for so long. I also hate crocs by the way. Anyways it was really snowing in Seoul and my feet got wet in my stylish but not made for winter black shiny boots. So I was forced to find a pair of cheap and warm shoes.... and settled on these for $20. But... I have continued to wear them. They are so comfortable, and complement my most common work outfit that is a combination of leggings and baggy tops a la japan-korea region of asia.

The trouble with Korean names

These are three of the people I report to on a daily basis. The man at the top is the media manager, and we see each other a lot because he gives me my scripts and arranges my schedule. When we were introduced, I heard the Korean word for hospital: Byungwon. But it's actually ByungGwan.

Hospital isn't that bad. But this next example is:

A friend of mine couldn't remember the name of a waiter she has a crush on.

"What's his name? Uh.. maybe Byun Tae?"

Byun Tae = perv.
She was right, it ends in Tae, but it's Jun Tae.... ay yi yiii

DDONG PPANG: this bean-paste-filled winter bread is shaped like poo.

This second photo is quite small, but they actually have a step by step process illustrated to poo, complete with flies buzzing around.

Simple Pleasure:
One of the finest things in life is waking up, enjoying a lazy coffee and just strolling. Vacation is a mentality. i don't have to LEAVE korea. I can create it. I have discovered that i am one of those people that 1-sleeps less than many others and 2 - enjoys getting up earlier than most people consider to be sane. While Nicolas slept in my favourite classy love motel in Seoul, I got up and went for a walk in Itaewon. I went up the road to the mosque that is full of foreign food stores, went to a bookstore, bought some fluffy orange socks because my feet were cold, and then had a leisurely coffee and croissant at "Paris Baguette" as I watched the people traffic.

Love and Technology: Sarang-he-WHAT?

2010-01-03T03:56:00.000-08:00

Public displays of affection nauseate me - when you're groping and kissing and making your friends feel awkward. But what about a public declaration of your love, via powerpoint presentation?

Two guys in the office were working together on a surprise for a man, who we'll call JiHyun, who was about to ask the girl he was seeing, to "be his girlfriend."

For me, this immediately resonated with the tradition present in conservative pockets of Latin America where you need to "declarar a la mujer" or "pedir permiso a los papas" before you have "una relacion formal." But mariachi serenades and flowery speeches have gone high tech in Korea.

JiHyun was preparing a song, a ring, a huge stuffed animal, and a powerpoint presentation - all to be presented in public, at a restaurant. The song had lyrics that were a bit intense for his purposes - he wasn't proposing marriage, after all - which caused for a few modifications. When the song said "I love you" he added a quick voice-over of himself saying "I like you a lot". Similarly, "I want to marry you" became "I want to be with you".

But what really blew me away was the idea of a powerpoint presentation, as images of university lectures, bullet points, and red laser dots highlighting the three sub-points on "why want to be with you" flooded my brain.

JiHyun was not alone. Another co-worker's fiance proposed to her via powerpoint presentation. This was too much for me to take - was this actually a trend? So I went to a source, a bilingual, well-traveled co-worker who knows North America and serves as a linguistic and cultural translator more often than she should have to. She confirmed that it really is "quite common" ... however rather than the bullet points that I had pictured, a montage of images with floating text across the screen tends to be preferred.

This led me to an investigation of the Korean dating world, a world that I assumed I would have great difficulty getting access to because the majority of the foreign-Korean couples you see involve a Korean woman with a foreign (white) man, so I was pretty sure direct field research was out. But through various sources, I have managed to glean some information.

1. Making things official is important: this declaration can involve oversized stuffed animals, the presentation of matching his and hers "couple rings" (same sex relationships are pretty in the closet in Daegu, so will not be considered in this list due to a lack of reliable sources for information), and powerpoint presentations. But the words must be said - the man will officially invite the woman to be his formal girlfriend.

2. Couples hug. Friends don't: I have scared a few of my Korean friends, especially guys, when I went in for a hug. After a joyous night of hanging out, isn't a hug in order? Not when you're only used to waving in a rapid motion in a vertical hand position accompanied by "bye!" In most cases, the other person allows the hug to happen, but they are careful to tilt their torso very far away from my body, and give a light fluffy, flaccid-armed pat on my shoulders.

[Similarly, when I have been introduced to Koreans, often the bow starts at their waist simultaneously as my arm extends, and then we both realize we are doing different things. At this point there is a moment where we both continue our handshake and bow, respectively, but alas the handshake usually wins. ]

3. Women are expected to act inexperienced sexually. A source of mine says that she and her friends agree that one must play "the innocent" for the first two months. Pretend you don't know what you're doing. However at the two month point, you can safely bust out your moves without looking "overly experienced".

"It would make you look more Spanish"

2009-11-20T16:33:00.000-08:00

Call it a teen 'stache. Call it a "Sánchez".

Either way, we've got one in la familia, ése - this badass is my brother.

During a recent skype chat, I was assaulted with this image.

"What's up with the teen 'stache?"

He explained that it had started as a joke with his friends. It would be funny if he grew one because it would make him look more "badass" or more "Spanish."

But why Spanish? Let's be real - the sparsely grown moustache on Latino features definitely conjures up images of mara salvatrucha and southcentral L.A.

The reason that the teen 'stache and the Hispanic 'stache are one and the same is that both require a sparse, thin moustache, exactly what a pubescent boy is capable of producing. Many Latino men straight up, aren't hairy. Throw some indigenous blood into the mix, and you get sparse hair growth on the arms, often no chest hair, and facial hair that will never allow a thick full beard.

Another thing is that vato loco style hasn't really changed over the years, and the moustache is an essential part of the look. Guys wear beaters with a checked shirt only buttoned at the top, khakis, sport the 'stache, and drive their lowriders with la Virgen de Guadalupe on the hood.

Same for the ladies - I've been wearing the same outfit for the last 10 years when I get in the mood to look more Latina, complete with big hair, tight white capri pants, hoop earrings and the quintessential contrast of white shimmery lipgloss with a ring of dark liner - and don't forget to wing the corners of your liquid liner that is only applied to the top lid.

So my brother is going to keep growing his 'stache for a little longer. Potentially to the stage where he can "style and groom it with upturned corners". More comments after a debriefing session about his experiment of consciously walking around with a stereotype on his face.

A guy carried my purse.

2009-11-18T19:13:00.000-08:00

I was with some friends, and we were going into an "Indian" sheesha/wine establishment. Before I could walk past the sheer sequined fabric, shoes had to be removed. Aptly predicting the difficulties in simultaneously unzipping a tall stilletto boot and keeping one's balance, my Korean guy friend instintively grabbed my purse. He also did it again on the way out - and continued to hold it.

And I actually had to ask him for it back.

The boyfriend/guy friend carrying the purse is such a quintessential sight in Korea that it's even represented in the Ladies Room, as captured by a friend of mine who said, "I wasn't sure if I was in the right bathroom or not."

Let's be clear that this guy already has his own man purse, complete with chest strap. The red hand bag is an additional and undoubtedly female purse, which seems to say: "Your man is waiting for you outside the bathroom with your purse." However, this guy is pictured mid-stride, which could also suggest that he is walking with the purse for an extended period of time, rather than holding it for a brief moment.

Although the foreign community in Korea makes fun of it, I have to say it can be pretty damn practical. I probably would have fallen over while un-zipping those stiletto boots if I was also balancing a purse - and my own body- but only because my fierce boots have a 5-inch (reflective silver) fierce heel.