Amanda Takes Off...

Tonight's class was essentially pointless, though I am glad I showed up for Korean reasons.

It was pouring rain and something was going on with the schools, so only ten of us were there. We warmed up and did individual poomse work for 40 minutes, when the boys then told me to change so they could prep the studio for tomorrow's test. I looked at the clock and said, "but it's only 8:40."

Goalie looked at me, said, "Wait a minute," and left. He came back and told me to go talk to Master, who was still downstairs. He came back and told me to go downstairs. I went downstairs and found Tired Guy and Blue helping Master with something. He explained that they were prepping the studio for testing and told me to do 고려 until 9:30.

I only know 8 steps of 고려. I couldn't do it for 45 minutes straight, so I mixed in some Pal Jangs and photography. I'm glad Master walked into the studio when I was in the middle of 고려!

"Cleaning" the studio. I love the expressions I caught on their faces.

Coverboy loves vacuuming doboks.

I call him Coverboy...

...for a reason.

They were throwing wads of newspaper (used to clean the mirrors) around while Coverboy was riding the vacuum across the studio.

These guys were actually doing work. Brave's Brother, standing in the window, was trying to find the studs to hang the testing banner on. Goalie, moving in the background, was helping. The guy in the middle, whom I don't have a nickname for? He was watching the younger boys ride around on the vacuum.

Once this kid got going, momentum took him to the closet. I'm surprised he didn't trip over the junk on the floor, actually.

Master came up to the studio to dismiss the younger kids and help put the finishing testing touches on. He watched me do the first 8 steps and told me to make my movements bigger, and to keep my kicks to a three count to give myself time to get my hands in the correct position. We got going about 기 again and I asked if it was the same ki as in kiyap. Yes. What about kibun? He said no, but we looked it up in my dictionary, and it is the same Chinese character, which is really interesting to me.

Before class I got the boys to help me with a speaking activity on my homework. I was supposed to ask them if they could do various sports. Brave's Brother and another boy just answered everything with yes or no. Goalie showed up after I'd told them it was homework and couldn't figure out why I was asking him those questions. Later Tired showed up. He was by far the most helpful because he offered longer answers. "Yes, but I'm not very good."

Yesterday I told Master I wouldn't be working today because I had to go to Labor again to report my employer again for being late on my pay again. When I was downstairs, he asked what happened.

"Labor에 갔아요. 그리고 일했어요. 원장님 화가..하다?" I went to Labor, and then I went to work. My boss...to be angry?

"화가 나다," Master corrected me.

"화가 녔어요. '왜요? 월요일 돈이 있을거예요,' 라고 했어요. 하지만 믿—" My boss was angry. She said, 'Why? Monday I'll have money.' But I don't be—

He tried to finish my sentence, "못 믿어요?" You don't believe her?

"네, 믿지 않아요. 하지만 내일 일야하..." No, I don't believe her. But tomorrow I must wor.... I scrunched up my face in confusion.

Master helped me, "일해야 해요?"

"네! 일해야 해요!" Yes! I must work.

Blue grinned at me. I sighed and said, "라고 했어요, 지 않다, 해야 해효!" Heck yes! I had just managed to fit in direct quoting, a new-to-me way to negate a sentence, and the must/have/should/ought verb ending in my speech. I needed some help, but the fact is, I've learned all of those things in the last 4 weeks or so and haven't gotten to use them much yet.

Later I somehow managed to work "smokes cigarettes" into a story I was telling. That's one of my new vocabulary words.

On the subway ride home, I did my homework. I must say, this lesson's homework was a bit annoying. How many times do I need to write "X [does not] know how to play soccer?" Three apparently. Much more repetitive than normal.

Some guy a few years younger than me was standing near me (I was sitting) and he very nearly rammed his elbow into my ear several times. Then he started talking to me while he friends were trying to keep him upright. "Seonsangnim!" I ignored him, but we all got off at the same stop. He kept trying to get my attention while his friends tried to stop him. "Seonsangnim!"

I had an imaginary one-sided conversation in Korean in my head. "What? Why are you yelling at me? Are you drunk? Yes, I can tell. Well, sleep well tonight. You'll be sick tomorrow."

Tonight's class consisted of 고려 work with Master.

"연습해야 해요." I must practice. (I was really happy to use that form with Master, because I just learned that verb form today.)

We only got through step 8 (of 30) together.

While trying to teach me the new ready stance, he started going on about 기 (ki/qi/chi depending on your language of choice). He said that 기 is there in the tae guek series but that it's not emphasized, that it's often hidden, because tae guek is a beginner series.

He was using 기 and forces interchangeably. I shook my head and said, "Master, not the same thing. I don't think. And in America, we don't usually have 기." I'm sure he understood what I meant. While Western martial arts may talk about 기 (usually at higher levels in the martial arts), it's not something that's part of the Western mindset.

He was showing me how to hold my hands in ready stance, making me grab his fingers to feel the strength of them. Then he told me to do five fingertip push-ups.

I stared at him.

"OK, one."

I can do regular, palm-flat push-ups (no knees on the ground, of course), but I've never even done fisted push-ups. So I did one. And it hurt. He told me to start practicing until I can do fisted pushups, then fingertip ones down to one finger.

I looked at him, raised an eyebrow, grinned and said, "How many women do you know who do one finger push-ups?" While I'm sure they're out there, I'm also sure I'm not one of them. He cocked his head and said he didn't know any and that he could do three fingers himself.

It was such an interesting conversation. I love it when he gets going on philosophy of the martial arts. I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to "get that" from him due to the languages, and yet every time we work it out.

I was doing and redoing and redoing the same steps. Master said, "어려워요, you know, Amanda?"

"네. 어려—어려워—어려워요. 알아요." Yes. 'It's difficult.' I know.

At the end of the session I said, "Brain, 뇌?" He nodded and I said, "뇌가 아파요." My brain hurts.

"모리가 아파요?" Your head hurts?

I shook my head. "아니에요. 뇌가 아파요." No. My brain hurts.

He smiled. "화이팅!"

Through our lesson, Master kept repeating the first 10 steps in front of me. Emphasizing different points. Showing me the moves with and without 기. His body looked both tense and utterly relaxed at the same time. The power. The snap. The fluidity. And the focus in his eyes.

I sort of gaped at him. I couldn't keep my eyes off of what he was doing.

His 고려 was a thing of beauty.

Difficult beauty.

Before class tonight, I picked up a copy of The Little Prince at the bookstore. They had one book that was a chapter in Korean then a chapter in English, but I ended up buying two books, one in Korean and one in English, that were sold as a set. I've never read the book and it's certainly above my level right now, but one day I will be able to read it. I'm keeping it around as motivation. (I bought Sogang 1B several lessons before I was done with 1A for the same reason.)

For some reason, I would normally consider reading a chapter in English and then a foreign language "cheating." (This is what I plan to do.) But the fact is, when I had an ESL student who spoke no English but could read in French, I gave her books in French to build up her background knowledge about what we were studying. When she had to read in English, her reading level with background knowledge was much higher compared to just getting some random text. If it wasn't cheating for my students, why is it cheating for me?

Out of 39 flashcards I made tonight for this week's Sogang lesson, I knew 25 of them the first time through (Eng-Kor direction). This is in part because so many were from English but also in large part because it was about hobbies and sports and I knew the sports from taekwondo.

Tonight's class was very strange. The studio didn't hand out fliers on Friday because it was raining, so a bunch of the boys went out tonight. Only five of us were left behind, and Master was supervising the students outside. So he had Ghost work with me on steps 1-20 of my new form.

In the process of working on this form with Ghost, I learned a bunch of new words, not surprisingly. During our break, I dragged him in the closet and got him to pronounce that difficult 려 sound for me into my iPod. "Say 고려. Say 어려워요." I was impressed. Without any coaching he said the sound (or word) normally once, slowly (broken into the beats) once, and normally again.

I asked if he'd be coming to class early any day this week. He's missing the next two days because of something at school and I'm missing Friday because they're having an early class testing time. He said he'd come early next Monday. He's going to read one of my Once Upon a Time in Korea stories with me while I record it. He seems excited to help.

Awesome.

Before class, when Master and I were clarifying Friday's plans, I asked what I would test on because I don't know all of 고려 yet. (He has everyone present perform at the tests, even if it's not an official test for them.) He said I'd test on Pal Jang and that I won't do 고려 until I have my black belt. I looked at him, very confused and he said, "Oh, Amanda, you wait two month to get black belt."

"Two months, I know. But why am I learning 고려 now?"

"Oh!" He looked up a word in my dictionary. Preparation. He said the two month waiting period between testing and getting the black belt is to prepare 고려. I guess that when I have the black belt I'm supposed to know 고려. I'm really not sure and I have a feeling it's in part to instill patience amongst his students.

After class, Master started talking to me through his teeth. "Amanda, you stay here. You know 힘들어요?" Ha! Only because Ghost had taught me while we were working together! It means "to be hard work" and it's one of those phrases I've heard a lot in class. The boys say it after something particularly physically demanding. He said, "Boys having pizza downstairs, you have pizza, too." He was speaking through my teeth so some of the other students would not hear him.

I never got downstairs because by the time I was done getting ready to go home, he was back in the studio with food.

Free pizza.

For the record, 고려 is something else... I kept saying "어려워요!" and Ghost kept saying, "Yes, 힘들어요."

This weekend I saw H, YJ, and Michael. I got some practice talking about my family with H, YJ helped me with honorifics (frustration!!), and Michael and I went to Costco.

This was my first Costco trip and I am hooked. I have cheese. Real cheese. And salsa. And cream cheese. And Laughing Cow cheese. And frozen pizza. And Honey Nut Cheerios! And I couldn't wait to get home and eat dinner tonight, which mostly consisted of cheese.

Michael asked a friend of his what Westerners smell like to Koreans, since people smell differently depending on what they eat and drink. His friend said, "Cheese. And sometimes milk." When Michael told me, we were both giggling.

Rumor has it that several years ago Seoul held a town-hall meeting with foreigners and the most raised concern was lack of decent cheese.

Poor YJ. I had another one of my "those tricky subject and object markers will get you every time" moments. I couldn't figure out why Tony was worried that he went home drunk. Turns out the writer was worried that Tony went home drunk, alone.

Masochistic freak that I am, I iPod recorded part of my session with YJ. I was reading lesson three's reading activity out loud and discussing some other things with her (honorific grammar, mostly in English).

Ick.

I can't believe anyone listens to me speak. Hearing myself makes me want to cut my own tongue out. (The 려 sound makes me want to cut my tongue out, too. But as Michael helpfully pointed out, "That won't help.")

Since reading out loud in Korean is horrible and I hate it, I'm forcing myself to do it ten minutes a day. Because of my background in education, I believe that reading out loud (especially repeated readings of the same thing) will help improve my comprehension, accuracy, fluency, and vocabulary. And not just of my reading Korean, but speaking Korean, too. I also believe it will help me get used to those tricky markers that are so often dropped in speech but always included in writing.

Interestingly, I've noticed that I self-correct sometimes. I don't want to go on an educational tangent, but this is a great sign. Self-correcting means that the reader recognizes when something doesn't sound right (either in pronunciation or in meaning). And the fact that I can realize something doesn't sound right in Korean—even using a textbook with a limited vocabulary—that makes me feel good. I can tell you that it certainly wasn't the case with my college Spanish classes!

My iPod earbuds broke today. The other earbuds I have are extremely uncomfortable. Apparently I have tiny ears because I can't get them to fit. Because my ear buds were broken, I was doing some Korean homework on the subway without my iPod on.

It was this difficult honorific stuff that I mostly still don't understand. (YJ helped a whole lot, but the idea of speaking to people with differing levels of formality is just so foreign to me.)

The subway was packed.

The man on my left (who spoke very good English) started helping me, with his wife occasionally offering her own opinion. The man on my right (who spoke very little English) started disagreeing with him (politely) and started helping me. The woman standing in front of me (who spoke amazing English) disagreed with both of them (politely) and started helping me.

Somehow, with all three of them, I got through it. I said to nobody in particular, in Korean, that Korean was impossible to learn. Woman laughed, Righty nodded, and Lefty grinned. I thanked them all as they departed and thought, "Maybe I shouldn't wear my iPod all the time."

Don't misunderstand, I tend to get lots of subway help with or without the iPod on, but today was something else!

I got to class with a massive headache. I managed to ask Master for some aspirin, and said "my head has been hurting since last night." Apparently my head didn't hurt too much, because in the middle of asking for aspirin, I checked that I was using the right markers. (I was.)

Later, while we were doing demonstration kicks, I somehow managed to steer the conversation to cheese to I could talk about how happy I was to get some good cheese. Yes, give Amanda cheese and she's happy.

Demonstration kick days are good days.

Before class, I saw a note on the board and read it. I looked up a few words, only one of which I didn't have any idea about (명상, meditation, contemplation) know, the others I guessed about in context but double checked. And I understood. There's a test on Friday starting at 5. Normally on testing days (once a month) he only has one big class.

So out of the blue I asked Master if I'd have class Friday. Since I gave him no context for my question, he thought I was saying I wouldn't be in class. I said, no, that wasn't what I meant. He caught sight of the board and said, "Oh, I don't know. Not sure right now."

I said in Korean, "I read it."

He gave me a "good job!"

Before class started, Ghost showed up with a new haircut. He said, "삭발! 삭발!"

I looked it up.

A tonsure. A what? Ah, a shaved head.

I saw the phrase "삭발하고 중이 되다." I said it out loud. Shave one's head and become a Buddhist priest.

Ghost and His Friend looked at me. "What?" I showed them the phrase and Ghost's Friend put his hands together and bobbed his head back and forth, trying to imitate a Buddhist.

Right or wrong, we all laughed.

Reviewing all of the words you learned in December and only having forgotten two of them. Reviewing all of your January words and only having forgotten a handful of them. Suddenly knowing "기억 (하다)" (memory, oh the irony) when it's been in the taekwondo stack since October! Happiness.

Mentally making sentences with a new verb Blue taught you last night (갈아입다/to change clothes) and realizing how it's similar to 갈아타다 (to change trains, planes, etc). Happiness.

Automatically bowing to someone in response to "Hi" and thinking, I just bowed to American Mormon missionaries. I've been here too long. Happiness.

Rushing through the market on the way to class and spying a little kid, crouched down in front of a stack of dead fish, poking their eyes with curiosity dancing on his face. Happiness.

Noticing the man sitting next to you on the subway is wearing a Dallas Stars sweatshirt and thinking, "That used to our team, until they moved." Happiness.

Rereading the reading activity in your Sogang lesson (third time reading it, second time today), completing the written questions, and being able to retell the story based on the picture and a few key words. Happiness.

Walking past the huge glass windows of your favorite neighborhood bakery on your way home and seeing the always friendly owner, sitting behind the counter—asleep. Happiness.

Before class, Brave's Brother helped me with the reading activity in this week's lesson. I read (slowly) aloud and he corrected me or helped me out. He was laughing at my difficulty with "데이트" "스페인." Don't ask me how "date" and "Spain" become three-syllable words.

He also helped me with 려. I have a really hard time with that sound, which is unfortunate for a few reasons. First, my new form is called 고려. I need to know how to say it. Second, the word for "to be difficult" is 어렵다. I couldn't even say it was difficult to say the sound because I couldn't say the sound in the word difficult! (I found this terribly funny.)

Brave's Brother helped me out and I could tell he was getting a little frustrated. So I said, "Say 'rabbit.'" He did, putting his tongue against the roof of his mouth the ways Koreans form their L and R sounds. "No, tongue down! Here, here!" We went back and forth a bit until he laughed and said, "OK! I try, you try."

So Master walked in to find me muttering, "려소리가 어려워요..." (The best way I could think to say The 려 sound is very difficult...)

During the first half of class, we played soccer by choosing teams, which we've never done before. Master was kind and kept me from being picked last, though I really wouldn't've minded. While we were waiting to start, he kicked the soccer ball hard, hitting another kid (with red and black glasses almost exactly like me) on the head hard. It bounced off of him and hit me hard in the face. Master rushed over to see if I was OK. I looked at my glasses and said, "Master, why is there water here?"

He looked at me, looked at Glasses Guy and said, "Amanda! His 땀!" Sweat. Eww. Ewww. Ewwww. I said as much, too.

Soccer was fun. While we were playing, Goalie studied my book for some reason. Master opened it up and used his handphone to look up some words. He seemed frustrated, though I have no idea why. My teammates practiced that 려 sound with me during our out times.

When we played 가위바위보 the boys said something to me. I figured they were telling me we were choosing goalkeep. "Yes, yes," I said.

They repeated themselves. So did I. They seemed really excited and said, "하고 싶어요?" I just learned that verb ending a few weeks ago, meaning to want to do something, but I haven't gotten to use it (or hear it) much. They were asking if I wanted to be goalkeep.

"No! No! 가위바위보!"

I watched Coverboy use his head to bounce the soccer ball against the targets/guards storage area twice in the middle of the game. Another time someone who was playing goalkeep (Grin's Brother, I think?) kicked the ball to keep it away from his goal. His foot got caught in the netting and the goal flew around more than 90 degrees. Yet people paid no mind and kept playing. I was the goalkeep for my team when it happened and Cocky and I couldn't stop laughing. Then we'd look at each other and start laughing again.

During class, Master used a verb tense that I learned recently with me. The first time it didn't register, but then he said, "Amanda, you know 할 수 있다?" and it did. He may have (unknowingly) remembered that I used it Monday night.

He's never had a foreign student and I'm nearly positive he's never had this much interaction with someone learning Korean in any context before. Yet he's very good about adjusting his speech level for me, whether to use the verb forms I've just learned, or to emphasize the confusing transitions, or to use vocabulary I'm studying.

After class I took some photos, because sometimes the mundane is interesting.

Here are the boys "cleaning." The kid who is actually cleaning was on my team tonight. He was jumping up, breathing on the glass, then trying to clean it off before it disappeared. Unfortunately, I didn't get a good shot of it. Note Cocky's reflection in the mirror.

Cocky folding up his dobok after class.

I know it's of his back and not his face, but I liked the empty floor, the jacket. Something about it...

Master was doing something (that I don't want to describe) to this student's forehead with a red ballpoint pen. It made me see all of the people involved in a whole new light. Good or bad light, I haven't decided yet. Maybe just different. Oddly different.

After class, while I was folding my own doboks, Master called everyone in a circle to discuss tomorrow. They're meeting to hand out fliers. I will not be there, but I stayed around to listen to the plan-making and conversation. I rested my head on my hand because I was trying to work out something in my head. He must have thought I was bored. He said, "Oh, Amanda, you can—"

"I know. I'm practicing listening," I said in Korean.

He nodded, smiled, and went on. I was listening, not just for the major thing—9 o'clock, 10 o'clock—but for the other words like morning, afternoon, early, late, time and various Korean markers. And I heard them, or at least I heard more than I usually do. And it didn't take a lot of conscious translating.

Happiness.