Amanda Takes Off...

A few days ago I turned on the TV and found a show called HEY HEY HEY! (As in Fat Albert's "Hey, hey, hey!") Actually, I don't know the name of the show, but it was set at HEY HEY HEY club.

On the show were Koreans singing Ray Charles' songs.

In blackface.

I was discussing this later with Good Man, who didn't approve (of course), but who argued that Koreans don't know better. I called him on that. I argued that Korea can use that excuse for one second, and that second is long up and passed.

Before I came here, there were the Bubble Sisters. They are a group of Korean girls who sing pop songs in blackface, while wearing pajamas and sporting curlers in their hair.

Then we have the Hitler Bar (of which there have been a few!) and Korean companies very recently using Hitler as an advertising image. Oh, but who cares about Nazis? "[...]at least they dressed well." Recently a school had an international festival with a parade. One guess as to who and what represented Germany.

One of the theme parks used to run an ad with an "African" running around with a spear yelling "tika tika!"

When Colbert criticized Korean singer Rain in one of the funniest videos I've ever seen, Koreans freaked out. Had Colbert done it wearing yellow grease paint, with his eyes taped back into little slits, Koreans would have actually had a good reason. But, oh, no, we don't know better, they collectively claim.

Korean politicians claim that Korea is "international" now that a whopping 2% of it is "foreign." (Most of which is coming from Asian day workers and Asian women marrying South Korean farmers because there aren't enough females here due to the preference for male children.)

They want their economy to be greater (currently 12th GDP), bigger, better! Come on! This is Dynamic Korea: Hub of Asia!

They want to be Korea, Sparkling!

And yet... Koreans still routinely prefer white native English speakers over non-white ones, with a hogwon recently using "If you're white, you're alright!" as it's advertising slogan. Asians (including kyopos, ethnic Koreans raised abroad) also have a problem getting hired here.

My province's textbooks (I think the nation's textbooks) have one (or two, if it's a really special lesson) token black characters in them. These characters have red cheeks, big lips, and dreads. Always dreads. And they like basketball! Our province provided "international" map shows the sole African wearing a grass skirt, no shoes, big gold earrings and! And! He's carrying a spear! (I'm shocked they named the token characters Peter and Thomas instead of Jamal and Malcolm.) Their white characters are almost all blond, and amazingly, even their little cartoon Asian characters all have "big" eyes. Wait, except for the Japanese, who have "small" eyes. A little self-hatred, perhaps?

They have an ad for black bean tea featuring a black guy (big, fat, with an Afro, of course) rapping. The bean is black! The guy in the ad must be black! YES! We are sooooooo multi-cultural and international and sparkling!

And I'm going off about how Korea thinks it's so sparkling, dynamic, and hubbish and Good Man is just nodding. I know Good Man is not racist. He's also not homophobic, which is somewhat amazing. But we're talking and he says, "I don't think I would have a problem with African-Americans."

"No, of course not, why would you? Have you ever—" I was going to ask if he'd ever had a problem, but I suddenly switch gears, "Have you ever talked to a black person?"

"No. Not in real life."

I hit my head. "You've never met a black person?"

"No. I haven't had the opportunity."

I know he's right. He would have to specifically seek out a black person (or hang out in Itaewon) to meet them in this country. But still, I can't believe it. "You've never met a black person," I mutter.

"It's not my fault."

"I know, I know."

Sometimes I can't wrap my head around this country.

Yesterday I went and played paintball.

What a huge mistake. I am suffering from a cold and it was nothing like last year. Last year it was the older boys, just a few of us. This year the oldest boys were in middle school and we had 30 kids plus 30 kids from Haan Dong Studio.

Master told me to take charge of the six girls. I told them to speak slowly, Master said, "No, she's Korean, don't worry. She speaks Korean very well."

It was a long day, terribly disorganized (not Master's fault, the organization's fault) and I don't really want to rehash it. (Waiting more than 2 hrs in one place to play paintball, a 2 hr ride home in a chartered bus with 60 screaming kids, and so on.) So instead, some photos.

We're Ready to Go!

I love the goofy look on the kid's face. He's a sweet kid.

The student below became my partner for everything. None of the other kids wanted to partner with him. I'm not sure why, as he's a nice kid, he's not a bully at all. I think he might be "slow" and that's why the other kids don't want to play with him. He speaks amazingly good English. He suddenly started speaking English at me rapid-fire. Shocked me!

My Little Brother

Foreign Hair

My mask amused me. Part of it was Made in America, part of it was Made in China, and it was Assembled in Mexico. I pointed it out to Master and he said, "Amanda! World mask!"

Master Listens While a Child Intently Tells a Story

Tongil Trifecta

Paintball Guns

Fall Flowers

Blue Mushrooms

It wasn't all bad. On the way home, the boys behind me on the bus were talking about me. A snippet of their conversation went like this.

"Where is Amanda Foreigner from? America?"

"Yes, she's American. But she's lived in Korea a long time now."

"She speaks Korean very well!"

"Yeah. She always speaks Korean!"

Now, it's one thing for face-saving adults to compliment you, but quite another for 11 year old boys to do so.

Thursday night in taekwondo class one of the kids was making spit bubbles and letting them fall on the floor.

We were in line and Master was talking. I glared at the kid, but he didn't see me. I roundhouse kicked him in the butt. Hard.

He looked at me and some kids started clapping. Master laughed and asked what happened.

I said in Korean, "Master, 'mouth water.' Mouth water," I pointed to my mouth, "what is it?" (Hey, "snot" is literally "nose water" and "tears" are "eye water" so I thought maybe "spit" was "mouth water.")

"침."

"He, spit, like this," I said, imitating him.

Master grinned and told him to stop.

About 30 minutes later, when I was sitting on the ground watching other students, the kid I'd kicked approached me. He pointed at Goalie's Brother and said, "Amanda! Spit! He's doing the spit thing! Go kick him!"

I said, "You are short. But he is tall. I won't kick him." Then I yelled at Goalie's Brother, "Hey! Don't do that. It's rude!"

He nodded and quit.

Yesterday I was walking to the bus stop from school and some middle school boys said "HI!"

I turned and said, "Hi!" I thought maybe they'd attended my school before I was the teacher there. "How are you?"

The boy who'd spoken looked confused and his friends translated.

We chatted a bit. They were all 14, none had gone to my school, they all did taekwondo. How did that come up? One said out of the blue, "Taekwondo!"

I said, "Yes, I do taekwondo."

"Ung! Ung! Really?"

"Yes, why did you say 'taekwondo?'"

They pointed to my jacket. I was wearing the jacket Master gave me. It doesn't say 'taekwondo' or 'Tongil' or anything else on the back, but apparently it's a taekwondo jacket.

I bid them goodbye and as I got on the bus I realized it's always the kid with the worst English who speaks to you when he's part of a group.

***

Last night, after class, I was changing in the closet with Crybaby Gold Medal Girl. Suddenly water started splashing on us through some holes in the ceiling and wall.

I finished changing in the bathroom and found Master outside. Water was pouring down the steps from the third floor. Months ago he told me that he'd put a small swimming pool up there for his kids.

"Um, Master. Did the swimming pool break?" I asked in Korean.

"What?"

"Swimming pool?" His blank face told me I was going in the wrong direction, so I switched tactics. "Master, there is a lot of water! Why?"

"We're cleaning."

"Why?"

"We always clean."

I put my hand on my hip, "Cleaning, OK, I know. But Master, I've been here 1 year and...4 months. And I have never seen this!"

He laughed, "Oh! I understand. Usually we do this during the daytime."

"Hey, [Good Man]."

"Yep?"

"Do you love me enough to run 12km naked through Suwon after you've woken up, drunk and unclothed in a 기생 [gisaeng] house and forgotten about my funeral? Or birthday, or something else like that?"

"Sure. But trick question. I would never be in a 기생 house."

just pin your heartbeat up against my heartbeat
and you’ll see how well we rhyme

"Hey, guess what I learned? 발목 잡히다!"

발목 is ankle and 잡히다 is to be grabbed, to be caught (잡다 is to catch, to grab). Literally this is "to be caught by the ankle;" figuratively it means to have been trapped in a relationship or marriage by a woman getting pregnant.

Good Man looks at me. "Umm." He swallows. "How do you know that?"

"YJ taught me at our language exchange."

"Why?"

"Not me! A friend of a friend."

"Ohhhh kayyyyy," he says a bit nervously.

Things I Find Easy About Dating Good Man

A lot of people talk about how hard it is to date someone who doesn't speak your language natively or very, very fluently. Good Man's English is very good, I know that. But he does still make mistakes or say things that sound odd.

But overall, I think conducting and communicating in a romantic relationship with him has been easier than my dating/relationship experiences in America.

What?

If something sounds offensive, relax. It probably wasn't meant that way.

An American friend of mine who dates a Korean and conducts his whole relationship in Korean (yes, you read that correctly) told me that I needed to give Good Man a break if he said something that sounded funny.

I try to take his advice to heart. But sometimes I fail.

Koreans use "envy" and "jealous" differently than Americans do. Americans tend to use it in a negative way, but Koreans use it positively, almost. One day, after work, Good Man was particularly tired. He said, "I am envious of you. You work less hours than I do and make more money than me."

I immediately got defensive. I have a Master's in Education, I taught for three years in America, I could be making more money if I were at a hogwon, but we all know the luck I've had with them, I live in a different country with no family here, why shouldn't I make more money?

He just looked at me. "I just wish I could find an easier job, I am happy for you, Amanda. I want a job like you have."

One night, during class, Master ended a particularly difficult drill. "OK, no more," he said.

"Oh, I love you!" I said in Korean.

Master cocked his head. "Why?"

I had forgotten. "Love" is much more strictly used in Korea than in America. I said, "Oh, in America, we love everything... Um, thanks for ending the exercise!"

He laughed, "OK, Amanda."

Tell the truth. Don't use codes.

Of course, if someone from our own culture says something offensive, we immediately think they did it on purpose. They should know what is offensive and what isn't.

Similarly, jokes float around on the internet—men and women speak differently.

When you date someone from your own culture, you know the language, or at least you sort of know the language. If a woman says "fine!" then you know things aren't.

I can't pull that. If I tell Good Man things are "fine!" he's going to believe me. And if I'm upset, I can't do the "You should know why I'm angry!" thing.

Telling the flat truth makes things so much easier.

Just ask.

When Good Man says something I don't understand (either because of accent or structure), I don't guess. "Hon, what do you mean?"

"I mean..."

I wonder how many communication mishaps are avoided simply because we're more aware that they might happen. We all know that you can miscommunicate with someone who speaks the same language natively, but are we as open to the possibility and frequency of that happening?

There are no dating rules.

When you date someone from your own culture, you know the rules, or at least you know what you think should be the rules. Wait X days to call, don't sleep together until Y...

And in my experience women often call their girlfriends and ask, "What does he mean? They're trying to decode, figure out their next move, figure out which rules to follow (or break), and so on.

Good Man doesn't know the American dating rules, and I don't know the Korean ones, and we just date. I thought our first date was...not spectacular. I mean, it was nice, but he was so quiet and seemed so bored I thought he'd never see me again. (Which is basically my record of dating in Korea.)

I asked him out for a second date soon thereafter, mostly because I was going to be on his side of town and thought, "Why not?" I didn't worry about how it would "look" in part because I didn't really think we liked each other and in part because the dating script didn't apply.

The second date went much better than the first. Obviously. ^^

There is no script. Simple can be better.

Good Man has some some of the sweetest things I've ever heard.

But honestly, if a Western guy said them, I'd either think, "Oh, good line, he knows the right things to say," or I'd think, "That's it? He could do better."

Because Good Man doesn't know the typical romantic lines ("you complete me") when he says something sweet, I believe it much more than I would from a Westerner guy. Also, because English isn't his first language, I don't expect long, poetic declarations of love.

It doesn't matter. The regular things he says are fantastic.

Good Man once sent something pretty deep in a text message. Behind a "by the way..." As in "By the way [deep emotional thing here]." If an American guy did that, I would wonder why he stuck it in a text message, why he stuck it behind a flippant phrase. ("What does he mean?") But when Good Man did it, I giggled and thought it was sweet.

I couldn't do it.

I know I couldn't conduct our relationship in Korean like he does in English, and so I am very thankful.

Preparing to Spar

We had the tourament yesterday. It was huge (3500 people completing over two days) but no surprise, I was the only foreigner there. This tournament was province-wide and many people certainly didn't expect to see me. I caused grown men to do double takes, middle school kids to chirp "hi!" and I made younger kids run away when I greeted them in Korean.

Sparring I

Sparring II

Master was practicing forms with me when one kid just kept staring. I said annyeong and he just stared. Master told him to speak. He just stared. I said in Korean, "Wow! The foreigner can speak!" He just stared.

Waiting to start I heard "Amanda!" and was convinced it was Most Obnoxious Girl Ever calling me. I turned around and saw my 17 year old sparring partner from my black belt test. We greeted each other and each other's Masters. They looked at us, "Who is that?"

Because this tournament was larger than my last one, I wasn't lumped with all the black belt (age 16 or so and up). Instead I was lumped with the people who were over college student aged.

Master and I waited for the competition to start, and while watching the other groups line up, I said, "High schoolers are very tall."

"I know, they're 19."

"No, I mean 30 years ago, there wasn't much food. Now there's lots of food." He nodded and said that each generation is getting much taller than the last in Korea.

I had to bring my residency card to this tournament. I had it in my hand. Master talked to an official and came back, "Give me your card." I did and he put it in his pocket. "OK, he checked your card." He grinned and I laughed because this was obviously a Korean case of "I know you or your dad or we went to the same school, so sure, I'll trust you."

I said, "He didn't even look!"

"It's OK," Master said, "I told him you were Korean, not foreign."

"I don't believe you," I teased.

He nodded and put on his Innocent Master look, "Yeah, I tell him you like soju! You, very Korean!"

네! 아만다! 입나다!
Yes! I am! Amanda!

Despite What Master Says, I Am Obviously Not Korean

There were ten people competing in my group (about 20 people total, split into two groups). We were told to do Oh Jang (the random form) first, then Koryo. I am always worried about the random one. I'm afraid I won't hear the official. At my black belt test and the last tournament, the officials gave hand signals when they saw me. Usually they do that for everyone. This woman didn't.

Oh Jang

고려 I

고려 II

고려 III

I didn't place.

The good: I slowed down, I didn't let the pace of the majority rush me (a problem). I nailed nearly every landing (foot lands AND block at the same time, or foot lands AND punch at the same time).

Needs improvement: I need more power. I need to lengthen my long front stance and lower my back stance. (I can see that from the photos!)

After I left the mat, some man started waving to me. I looked around and didn't see anyone else. I put my hand to my chest. "Me?"

He came over and we started speaking in Korean. Somehow—I really don't know how—I managed to use the -sumnida form with him. He asked me if he could interview me. I said, "Yes, but I don't speak Korean well."

"It's OK," he switched to English, "I can speak English." I thought, Then why am I breaking out the -sumnida form?

Conversing With the Reporter

I was lead into a back room where I found Master's Father. I used the formal form to greet him, two hands to shake his, bowed and didn't look him in the eye. Yes! I finally greeted him the way I've been meaning to!

The man asked me how old I was, where I was from, my marital status, how long I'd been doing taekwondo, when I tested for black belt, how long I'd been and would be in Korea (I was tempted to say, "Well, that depends on my boyfriend"), where I worked and trained, and if anyone else in my family practiced taekwondo. Hey, I could've done that interview in Korean! Seriously! I almost wanted to say, "OK, let's do it again! Let's speak Korean!"

Then he made me give the goofiest look I think I've ever been asked to show in my adult life. I had to pump my right fist is a "fighting!" gesture while giving a thumb's up with my left hand.

When we finished I bowed out to Master's father and the interviewer. I went back to Master and said, "I was interviewed."

"I know."

I shrugged, "For what?"

"A taekwondo newspaper."

"Will you get a copy of it?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. I will try."

I hope he does. It might be something in Korean that I could easily read!

I was getting sick, so after my event was done and I cheered on some of my studiomates and got some pictures, I headed home, where I discovered that I had a fever.

Crybaby Gold Medal Girl
(Who Got a Bronze This Time and Cried About It)

The tournament was fun, even if I didn't place. And it was good for me. Every time I go to one of these events, I get more used to it, more used to the Korean used, the process (which is slightly different each time). And even though I'm nervous each time, it helps my nerves. It helps me feel more prepared for my second dan test, which is rapidly approaching.

Picnicking

(More photos are on the next page.)

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Saturday Photo Story

Saturday afternoon I headed over to taekwondo to practice for the tourney. I caught this photo in Gwangmyeong Market.

Gwangmyeong Market

After practice I talked to Jennifer on the phone. Good Man and I had plans to eat Indian food near Dongdaemun (East Gate), and Jennifer and Gym Guy did, too. We weren't eating at the same place but decided we might meet afterwards.

After a delicious Indian dinner, Good Man and I wandered around. It was cold, but Good Man dealt with me well. I was resting my camera on anything that wouldn't move, asking for books to prop up the lens in lieu of a tripod, and scaling hospital steps to get the views I wanted. He just smiled and said, "It's OK, I don't mind." Fantastic assistant, he is.

Multiple Dongdaemuns

Opposite Dongdaemun, behind us, was a flashing soju ad.

Soju

We passed this restaurant, where they were cooking huge pots of 설렁탕, ox leg bone soup.

설렁탕

We headed over to Cheonggyecheon where I tried to prove that, indeed, I can kick above my head. (Hard to prove in well-fitting jeans, though.) Strangers pretended to ignore us. You can not ignore me! I am Amanda Movie Star!

Front Kick

Beyond the tunnel we found this little light display. I then proceeded to flop flat on my belly to get low enough to capture the image. Again, Good Man was a good sport. Whereas my exes would have been embarrassed or started bugging me to hurry up, Good Man just gave me whatever I wanted and didn't even complain about how cold it was. (It was cold.)

Stream, Lights

And he didn't even complain when I took nine pictures like this. "Hold on, let me change exposure, oh so much noise... I need a tripod... No, move closer... No, not that close. Look at the light... OK, now look at me... No, don't turn your head!"

Patient, Beautiful Good Man

We hopped across the stream and waited to meet Jennifer and Gym Guy. This street vendor was preparing fish cake sticks.

Fish Cake Stick Vendor

And these folks were enjoying the street food.

Street Food

And then! Then! Then we met Jennifer and Gym Guy! (Don't wait to go onto the next page, where Jennifer and I discover we're "pop" sisters, Good Man and Gym Guy eat rubber, and I cut Gym Guy with my mad knife hand skills. Ki-yap! Go there now!)

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Setting: English classroom.

Time: 6th grade class.

Problem: Listening activity (listen, draw the line matching the picture to the correct number) featured a male picture but female voice.

Me, just pointing it out because it was funny: Boys and girls, did you hear that? The voice is female, but look at the picture!

Student, very matter-of-factly: Transgender.

Me, surprised: What?

Student: Transgender. You know, boy girl? Girl boy?

Tomorrow at 6pm I go to army training session in my town's elementary school on a playground to see some videos and lectures and also "hiking with m16" (used in Korean war or sth) guns.

I found it odd that he'd do this at an elementary school. Good Man's response? "The kids won't be there."

Then, tonight, he was texting me from the military meeting.

Me: How are you SMSing me from army thing?

Good Man: Hiding.

Me: Where?

Good Man: Army hat.

Me, using the only specific "hat" word I know: 철모? Steel helmet?

Good Man: No, regular.

***

Last night's taxi ride home was the weirdest taxi ride I've ever had in Korea, and that counts the one where the driver was speaking rapid-fire at me with Mom and George in the taxi, sort of in shock that I was, for the most part, holding my own.

He was asking the standard taxi driver questions. Where are you from, what do you do, how do you like Korea, do you have a boyfriend, etc. No big deal, conversation was business as usual. Then...

"Do you sleep with your boyfriend?"

Sure I was mishearing him, I said, "What?" He repeated himself and I stared at him. "I don't understand, I think." He repeated it again, more forcefully, then started making weird...noises... I dropped to the low form of speech and yelled, "You are very rude!" We were literally one turn away from my house, so I got out and refused to pay.

Last night's class was fun. We headed over to Master's Brother's studio. I haven't set foot in there since I first toured it over a year ago. Usually his studio meets us at ours. The boys (they were all boys) did sparring while those of us doing poomse watched. Then we were tested on our poomse.

I've been doing my poomse more slowly, aiming for more power lately. I am sweating after doing two forms. And that applies to the first form! I was told to slow down (I was keeping pace with the others). I was using as much power as I could, and my kiyaps completely drowned out the three other girls I was testing with. I scared some of the kids from the other studio. That was nice. (It was also nice realizing that my front kicks are easily above my head. I thought that was so impressive when I was first starting and I could barely kick to chest level.)

But that wasn't the really fun part. The fun part was talking to people from Master's Brother's studio.

I talked to Goalie and Goalie's Brother's Mother. She is a second degree black belt. I managed to use the honorific form when talking about her with Master ("Is that Goalie's Mother?") and when talking to her ("Are you going to the tournament Sunday" amongst other things).

Because I was sitting next to her, another Brother's Studio guy was on my left side. He started asking me questions, but it was hard to understand him. Korean women whine when they talk, Korean men tend to mumble. (Good Man is a mumbler! In Korean or English!) I finally understood him, told him my belt, when I came here, when I started in taekwondo... Then he asked if I was a college student. I looked at him and laughed, "No, I am a teacher. I taught in the US for three years and came here."

He looked confused and asked my age.

"Twenty-eight."

His eyes popped out of his head. He checked my age using pure numbers and Sino-Korean numbers. I laughed and assured him that I am 28 Korean age. I asked how old he was. "Twenty-one," he said, "I thought you were twenty-three." I could have kissed that boy man young man.

Master heard us laughing and looked over as us, "Why?"

I said, "I am an ajumma."

He shook his head, "No, you are a movie star."

A few seconds later what he'd said struck Young Man, who laughed and then turned and asked if I was married. I said no and for the rest of class he kept stealing glances at me. I pretended I didn't notice.

Meanwhile Most Obnoxious Girl Ever would not leave me alone. This girl makes me crazy. Every time we meet Master's studio, she's there. She talks and talks and talks at me. She screams for me across rooms (or buildings!). She introduces me to all over her friends, and acts like she really knows me. She doesn't understand being ignored, she doesn't understand "stop it," and she doesn't understand "I don't want to talk to you."

She was acting obnoxious as usual when I was trying to talk to other people and I told her to stop. Master turned around and I said, "관장님, 항상 아만다예요. 태태로 모비 스터예요. 하지만 저 여자 말할대 저는 동물 공원에서 원숭이예요." Master, I am always Amanda. Sometimes I am a movie star. But when that girl talks, I am a monkey in a zoo. He understood immediately what I was saying and both Masters scolded her while the younger kids from the other studio said, "Oh! Oh! She speaks very good Korean!"

***

"I think you're the only person I've dated that I could live in a one-bedroom with without wanting to kill."

"Oh, that's so nice."

Last night, on the way home I was listening to Josh Ritter's "Good Man." (I ignore the fact that I think he's talking about his guitar.)

Babe we both had dry spells
Hard times in bad lands
I'm a good man for ya
I'm a good man

I knew Good Man would be waiting for me when I got home. I kept willing the subway to go faster. Alas, it didn't.

***

Sunday, while on our double date, I dropped off two rolls of black and white film at the photo lab. I had no idea what was on the rolls. Turns out one roll was photos from Costa Rica in June 2005 and the other was photos from Germany taken in April 2006.

The color has probably shifted, and there are flaws on the files on the CD. I'm not sure if that's from the processing (lab's fault) or due to me trotting these things through countless airport X-rays and subjecting them to temperature changes for years. It could have been a problem with my camera, though I don't think my other photos taken around the same time had dust on them. I haven't used my 35 mm camera once since Germany, I am 99.97% sure.

I saw the photos from Germany and immediately remembered why I didn't get them printed. I had accidentally exposed the film while rewinding it. I didn't get the photos printed immediately because I didn't want to moan over which pictures I'd accidentally destroyed.

The only picture I remember taking on this whole roll turned out.

Mark

Good Man has (more than once) missed the subway stop he's needed to transfer or get off at.

Why?

"The oxygen and nitrogen in the subway is different, and the sound of the train makes you sleepy. Sort of like grandmothers hitting baby backs like this," he says, hitting my back, "It's like a heartbeat, so it makes you fall asleep."

I stare at him.

"Yeah. It's a scientifically proven fact." I start laughing and he shakes his head, "Amanda, no, really. It is."

***

Class last night and tonight was good. I've been working on lots of kicking drills and poomse practice because I have a tournament this weekend. Tonight I worked with Amanda Eonni's older sister, a quiet girl in sixth grade (I think?) that I really like. I had to go through all 8 color belt forms with her, counting them off, in Korean.

I know counting sounds easy, but doing it slowly, and with pauses to correct major errors in her form...it's harder than it sounds! It felt good to be put in a leadership position, like how Ghost and Crybaby used to (and still sometimes do) work on my forms with me. Of course, that wasn't really anyone else there to help them, but that's OK. I'll pretend that's not the case. ^^~

Before Master asked me to help her, I was working on my forms alone. I did each form once and was dripping in sweat by the time I was done. It sounds counterintuitive, but it's much harder to do a form slowly, with lots of power and balance than to rip through it quickly.

After class Master and I chatted for a few minutes. We talked about the tourney schedule. He will be leaving the studio at 7 am to get the weight checks done. The tourney doesn't start until 9, and I know where it is (though not exactly how to get there, that will be easy enough) so he told me I could come at 9 if I wanted. I am torn between getting sleep and rest and getting weight check pictures. He said I could take pictures and I said, "Well...that is early. I will think about it."

There will also be extra practice on Saturday. He expressed his frustration with some of the boys in the studio. We were speaking Korean and he asked if I knew what "fighting" was. I said, "화이팅!" and pumped my fist in the air. I couldn't believe he was asking me if I knew that word. Of course I do.

He said the boys didn't have fighting...and he paused. Ahh, then I understood, he was using the word in a way I haven't heard it used before. I said, "fighting ki?" using the word that he used to describe energy, life force. He said, "Ah, yes, you understand!" He imitated the way they've been answering him in the studio, very weak voices.

He looked up a word on his handphone and started shaking his head. I said, "punishment?" and looked up the word on my dictionary.

"Ah! Yes, that!" He said Saturday might be punishment day.

Master and I had class, discussed my weekend study session with Good Man, talked about tomorrow's class, this weekend, and Saturday's schedule entirely in Korean, except for "punishment." And even then, I knew what he was talking about, so the dictionary wasn't needed. Master threw in some English words, but only after I had already nodded, and more to check his own English than my understanding, I think.

I know Master lowers his Korean level for me, I know I still make tons of mistakes, but the fact that we did that all in Korean...awesome.

***

Last night, out of the blue, I was feeling a bit homesick. I'm not sure why. The days have finally gotten cooler, the sky is finally blue (!), the leaves are changing. I think it's the fact that it feels like fall in Minnesota that is making me a bit homesick.

So I was feeling kind of down, but the major problem with being homesick is that I have no home to think of. I haven't seen my dad's house in years. The house I lived in from 1992 to 1999 (and my mom and stepdad lived in until just after I left the States) was taken by the gov't with eminent domain and I haven't seen their new house. And Atlanta? I lived there with an ex, so that certainly isn't home.

So I don't even have a place to visualize when I'm homesick.

Class has been running late because of the tourney preparation. When I headed for the subway, I found that Good Man had texted messaged me that he was at my house. I certainly didn't remember inviting him over.

Turns out his job had gone very late, so he'd come over to my house rather than go home. No problem, I gave him a key for a reason. And he did my dishes, so I had no complaints.

"Good Man, I'm homesick. And I don't even have a home to think of! Do you know what I've been thinking of? A Publix grocery store. Seriously, the cheese section of a supermarket. That is home apparently."

He hugged me and asked about vacation and suggested I go to the States for a few days this winter. But I don't have the money or the time for it. It's not feasible.

And so we just chatted and boom, I felt better.

So nice.

Yesterday was a nice day. Good Man and I were going to go out, but he wasn't feeling well, so we stayed in, took it easy. Giant (and I mean giant, way too many leftovers) pancake breakfast, a couple episodes of Weeds, just chatting. A nice day.

I rode the subway partway home with Good Man and he helped me study Korean. We bought some snacks for the subway. He bought banana milk. Compared to most banana milks which are yellow, this one was white. And the bottle used that as advertising. "Banana milk is white, like bananas" or something like that.

Good Man looked at the back of the bottle and said, "These bananas are from Israel." I found that terribly funny for some reason, probably because he was so matter-of-fact about it.

While we were studying, there was a man in his forties or so, sitting to Good Man's right who was watching us, nodding, listening. He was trying so hard to be discreet, but he failed. He was amused by us, especially since I was asking when I could use the -겠다 form. It expresses strong will.

The man was lined up to leave the subway and I said, "So...I can say, '태권도 이 단 받겠어요!'?" I will earn my second degree black belt! The man turned and looked a little surprised. I think he would have worked up the nerve to speak to us if he had a few more stops.

Good Man is nice to study with. He lets me...read...chop.pily...like...this and only cor..rects me when necessary.

Today Good Man and I met Jennifer and Gym Guy/Sung Hyun for dinner and something else. It turned into dinner, ice cream, bowling (where Jennifer, who claims she hasn't done ten-pin bowling before, kicked all of our butts), and a movie.

Jennifer and I had exchanged some emails and chatted on the phone, and we were going to meet for coffee. Since I thought we passed the "solo together" test on the phone, I suggested all of us get together. But I admit, I was a little nervous. Good Man is pretty quiet around new people and I had a feeling Jennifer and I would get chattering along well. I shouldn't've worried.

When we were getting shoes, Good Man just handed his big shoe to the guy at the counter, which the rest of us found funny. It was as if he couldn't be bothered to give a size.

While we were bowling, I managed to score a single strike—on the very last frame. I called myself the Bipolar Bowler because I either missed entirely or scored OK (lit. OK). I don't think Grandpa in Florida (as my brother and I called him when we were kids) would be very happy with my score. He owned a bowling alley before passing it down in the family...but! My form was correct. I rolled from the wrist. My problem was that I wasn't doing the arrow/dot thing he taught me very well.

After bowling we bought some snacks (and Jennifer and I both, separately, said, "Oh, let's buy ice cream...wait, we already ate some...") and then watched Mr. Brooks at my house. Jennifer and Sung Hyun are to be commended for not commenting on the state of my kitchen. The movie got bad reviews at Rotten Tomatoes but we liked it.

Around 10:15 we parted ways and I walked Good Man to the subway station. He said, "I like them. And it's hard to find interracial couples, Korean man, Western woman. That isn't why I like them but..."

"It makes you like them more?"

"Yeah."

I understood exactly what he meant. It's hard to get along in groups of four, and we both thought we all got on well. Very nice.

Gym Guy Laughs at Something

Gym Guy

Jennifer

Sung Hyun and Jennifer

Amanda

Good Man

Jennifer Knows How to Pause for a Photo

I think Sung Hyun was laughing at me because Jennifer and I were acting sort of crazy and I said in Banmal, "It's OK, we're foreigners."

All photos were taken in aperture priority mode. I figured out how to do simple corrections (exposure, white balance, etc) on ALL selected photos at one time in Lightroom. I also figured out how to apply presets (though I didn't do it) to all selected photos. Oh man, that will save me some time!

A very good day, two very cool people.

Photos from the festival at Anseong are up in the Gallery.

Anseong Baudeogi Festival

갑시다!

Taekwondo was funny last night. I completely misunderstood Master. Amazingly, this wasn't a misunderstanding due to the language, this was us being on two different pages. I thought that Wednesdays this month the last class was at 6 and it was a taekwondo dance class. I asked Master what I would do in class and he said running.

So when I got to the studio, I changed and put on my running shoes. I went to tell Master I was going to start running (a little early) but he wasn't there, so I told his wife. When I got back from running I found out that Master meant, "if you want to learn dance, come to the 6 pm class, otherwise come at 8." I had clearly asked if "everyone" was supposed to go at 6 and he said yes but somehow we just talked around each other or something.

While I was running around the track, some high school boys were hooting at me, Korean style. Meaning the first lap I got "Hi!" The second lap I got "Excuse me," and the third lap I got, "Where are you from?"

I stopped, the three 18 year olds froze, and I started drilling them. They were good sports, actually, and we were speaking in Korean and English. One kid was being a real smart ass and told me "go now."

That isn't rude in Korean. It is in English. I said, "갑시다!" Let's go (strongly)! I grabbed his wrist, expecting him to wriggle free.

I have to give the kids props, he knows how to treat an elder, even if she is foreign. We started around the track and he slipped his hand into mine. We held hands, tearing around the track, while I said in Korean, "Next year...you have a college test, right? You must know English for that test right. So...let's practice English!"

He was muttering, "Oh, this is too hard!"

His two friends were running behind us, taking video on their handphones. I turned and gave them a V sign.

When we were done with our lap, I did several more on my own. When I finally left, one boy shyly asked me where I was going. Come on, kid, I'm in my dobok. I said taekwondo and he said he earned his black belt when he was young, but all he did now was go to hogwons.

They were sweet guys, I think.

I told Master about it and he was laughing and laughing, which is good since I was wearing the dobok with the studio's name on the back of it. When I told Good Man about it, he thought it was a good experience for the guys. I don't know, but it sure was funny.

Good Man, Bad Me

Last night, after class, Good Man and I were supposed to meet. He had one of those dumb forced coworker outings (회식) so he was two hours late. His work likes to do these copious drinking things an average of twice a week.

I was soooooo ticked. I have never let the outings bother me before. I know how it works in Korea, I know he's stuck going to them. He's the youngest in his company. If he doesn't go, it can make life at work hell for him. I know he doesn't want to go.

I know these things.

I didn't care. I've been terribly bored yet stressed at work. I was sort of grumpy and thought seeing him would fix it, but then when I couldn't see him soon enough... So I was pissed.

I was mad at his stupid coworkers and stupid boss for thinking that just because they don't like (or have) their own wives or girlfriends that he must not like his either. I was mad at them for sucking up our time. And since his coworkers and boss weren't in my apartment, since I don't have access to them, oh who do you think I took it out on?

Good Man called from the street and asked me if I wanted anything. I wanted gimbap, but I was angry, so I said I didn't want anything. (Yeah, that makes no sense to me right now either.)

When he got to my house, I told him he smelled like an ajosshi. Cigarette smoke in his hair, liquor on his breath, kimchi from his pores. He responded with an odd sound, one I'd expect from a wounded animal.

But did that stop me? Oh no. I glared at him, ranted about his boss.

I expected him to fight back, but his response just disarmed me.

He curled up next to me (which is amazing, since I was doing my unconscious best to take up as much space as Amanda-ly possible) and whispered, "I'm sorry. I know you are upset. I did try to leave early as I could. But I took job to make money so I can make better future for us. And prove that I can work hard and be good boyfriend and good man for you. Please don't be angry."

Then I started crying because I knew I was acting like a brat. And I was acting like a brat to Good Man. Good Man who makes my life so, so much easier in Korea. Who lets me rant about his country. Who does my dishes. Who adores my nephew even though neither of us have ever met him ("We will teach Liam Korean!"). Who took a job close to me to be able to see me. Who downloads programs and books and movies for me. Who fixes my computers when they're broken. Who is trying to make a better future for us. Who has proven how good he is in ways I don't want to detail on this blog.

He lifted up my glasses and wiped my eyes and said, "But I will not work here forever. Then it will be different!" He said some more, struck a big goofy grin, and said, "And then future will be very good for us."

I really was not happy with or proud of myself last night.

Then, this morning, a Korean friend said that her husband stays out at these things until 4 am and spent 500,000 won at the last one. And another asked, "Does he have other women?" Tea room girls and noraebang "helpers" are common at these things, but I trust Good Man when he says they aren't at his. And I trust him when he says he would leave the moment they showed up.

I looked at her, trying to hide my shock because I knew what she was saying about her own husband, "No."

"Then you are very lucky."

Mark is my best friend. We've been friends since sixth grade, though he likes to remind me we briefly met in fifth. We once had a pact that we'd marry each other at 25 if we were unmarried.

Well, we're both 27 and we're both still unmarried.

In any case, sometimes when I talk to Good Man, I feel like I'm talking to Mark. Tonight, twice through text messaging, he said things exactly like I imagine Mark would.

Me: I lost my sock.

Good Man: How many?

Me: One.

After taekwondo I could only find one sock. I said to Master, "I lost my Spiderman sock. If a student finds it..." He laughed at me. I love my Spiderman socks.

(Class was good, poomse work. I talked to Jennifer on the phone beforehand, which made me late for class. I came in and he said, "Busy?" He'd either seen or heard me on the phone, or Crybaby had told him I was outside chatting.

"Yes, I know a Canadian girl with a Korean boyfriend. So we were chatting." He gave his approval and I practiced the forms I'd missed after class without Master asking me to, so he was extra pleased.)

Me: Someone just ate my cookie off my tray at Tous Les Jours.

Good Man: You mean stranger stole and ate? Tell the clerk.

I was at the bakery and these two women were in line in front of me. Their purchases were being rung up and one reached over to my tray, broke off a hunk of my cookie, and ate it.

"Ungh! Ungh!" I pointed, "저 재 쿠키에요!" That's my cookie!

The woman froze and looked me. I picked up my tray and got another cookie, shaking my head while she and her friend tried to figure out how they should offer me the cookie on their tray. They thought they should offer it to me; they just couldn't decide if they should speak English or Koran.

When I got back, they lifted my defiled cookie off of my tray and started trying to explain that she got confused.

I tried to save her some face by asking her if she was tired. She totally missed the cue and pointed to her own tray, saying, "No, but my cookie is over there." Ah, yes, so it made sense to eat it over here... Face saving, lady, go with it!

She started apologizing repeatedly and I said it was OK until we (she and her friend, the employees, and I) started laughing. It was an uncomfortable, embarrassed Korean laugh.

Tonight's taekwondo class was nice. It was only an hour long because the middle school students have some big test and nobody is there this week. We're preparing for a tournament, so Master took me and another student aside to work on our forms.

I love working with Master one-on-one or in small groups on forms. I also like it when he watches me across the room and corrects me, even though I try not to let it show. I like the attention, and whenever I do forms with him, I really feel them.

He told us some "rules" and many finer points. He would speak to my younger studiomate, then look at me and say, "OK?" And the wonderful thing is I understood. Yeah, part of it is cause I've heard it before, part of it was body language, but much of it was just that I understood.

At one point he was helping me with Koryeo. The junbi (ready) stance for this form is different and I'm having a hard time with it. Still.

"Amanda..." he said.

"힘 필요해요?" I need power?

"네." Yes. He bends my fingers and says "tree." I know I am supposed to think that I am pushing a big, powerful log away.

"수 힘? 산 힘? 나무 힘?"

He cocked his head at me and switched to English, "What?"

"음...힘 어떻게요?" Um, power how? "수 힘?" Water power? I shake my hips as I imagine water power moves. "산 힘?" Mountain power, I hold my shoulders and torso like a mountain. "나무 힘?" Wood power, I move my body like wood.

A slow grin spreads across his face. "Ahhh! 나무 힘!"

And so I try to move like wood.

And after doing the form just once with Master's correction, pressure, power, I am dripping in sweat.

Ahhh, glorious.

(Good Man just told me that I should've used another word for water—물— and the possessive marker. 물의 힘, 산의 힘, 나무의 힘. I suppose if I was going to use "su" for water, I should've used "mok" for wood since they're both from Chinese.)

A Long Time Ago...
Good Man: What do you think you should do before you get engaged?

Me, listing things: ...Travel together. Go on weekend trips, longer if possible. If you can travel together and really enjoy it, that's a good sign....

Yesterday...
Me: Where did you tell your mom you were going this weekend?

Good Man: I told her I was helping out at my university. Well, we're almost there!

Today...
Today was—wait for it!—our third day in a row with blue skies!

And this weekend Good Man and I finally got to go on a weekend trip together.

Saturday

We went to Anseong for the Anseong Baudeogi Festival. It was mostly a local/regional festival and I'm pretty sure we were some of the very few people who came all the way from Seoul for it!

We had to take the subway to nearly the end of line 1, then take a bus ride 45 mins to get there. It was a city/area of my province that I'd never been to and it was fun to feel like a tourist.

Shortly after we got off the bus, I got grabbed on the arm by a guy I met at the orientation I had to attend last month. Good Man was amused that we ran into someone I (sort of) know.

We ate some lunch, hit the bank, then headed to the festival. Luckily, the guy I ran into had been there and set us on the right path.

While we were waiting to cross the street, we were holding hands (he took mine) and this guy at the stoplight was staring at us. We get double takes in public, but usually the looks see to be out of curiosity. This man was looking at us (and our hands) with malice.

"[Good Man]," I said, "Why is that man staring at us?" Of course I know the answer.

"Because I doubt there are any couples like us here. This town is very small."

"I know, so why are you holding my hand?"

"Because I love you and I want to and I don't care." Oh, Good Man and his scandalous behavior. (Speaking of scandalous, I really hope my parents don't read this entry.)

(Side: We did see a few foreigners, but we only saw two other Korean/white couples, both of them today, both of them Korean male/white female. We were shocked.)

We went to the festival and wandered around a bit. The festival took place on two sides of a little stream. Food (of course), modern dance and music groups, foreign dance troupes and the like were all there. They also had rides for kids and horse-drawn carriage rides for adults. Tradition was strong with traditional musical acts, traditional acrobatic acts, traditional wrestling and, traditional crafts, traditional foods and lots of traditional clothing. Oh, and there were cows, too.

We had a lot of fun wandering around, taking photos, resting by the stream, just relaxing. But the sun was beating down on us (for the first time in how long?) and we were a bit tired from the trip, so when my camera memory card ran out, we headed back to the center of the city for dinner.

We had 닭길비, only after passing the shop then walking around a bit more looking for something else to eat. The city was dead. What looked like it should have been the busiest part was nearly unpopulated. Very different than where either of us live.

After dinner it was 8 pm, so we thought we might finally be able to check into a love motel.

Love motels are hotels where you can rent rooms for about 20 to 30,000 won for three hours. You can also get rooms for the night, like normal hotels, but check in is at night rather than in the afternoon like normal hotels.

These hotels don't feel seedy. Really, they are fairly normal. Except they usually include free internet service (with computers provided) in the room, you can often borrow DVDs (of various ratings) inexpensively or for free, there are very large flat-screen TVs in the room (often with adult channels), some have adult vending machines in the hallway, and you can get "toiletry" packets for free or very inexpensively when you check in. And at this one at least, you could push a button on the phone to call a "dabang girl" (tea room girl) to your room.

Also, unlike regular hotels, you can sometimes check in without seeing the clerk, there are ropes hanging over the entrances so your face isn't seen, and there are placards used to cover license plates so you don't know who's inside.

Because these hotels are so inexpensive, new teachers are often housed in them for a few days until their own housing is ready for them. Heck, if I hadn't've been homeless when my mom and stepdad visited, they would've stayed in one.

Since Korean traditionally live at home until they're married, since adultery of both sexes is rampant here, and since prostitution is technically illegal but entirely ignored, these hotels are very widespread in Korea.

Last night there was a college campus singing contest on TV. We saw most of the acts and criticized the English that they threw in their songs to look cool. Good Man is fond of saying, "Why don't they at least know what they're talking about?"

Why you leave me now
I wanna love you
Doo roo roo roo roo roo
Do you love me baby
One for me but
I wanna leave you
Oh! I wanna forget you

The absolute worst act was the last act, B2, a group of ten women from a women's college who sang those lines over and over again. (You can watch the video!) Their outfits were awful, their voices didn't work well together, their soloists weren't that powerful, their lyrics were horrid.

They won, of course. I swear, they only won because they were the last act and the judges were excited to be done with the whole mess.

이효리 was one of the contest hosts. "I don't like her. And she's old." Good Man said. (Many men love Lee Hyori.)

"How old is she?"

"Older than me," he said.

"I'm older than you."

"Even older than you."

I burst out laughing. (Turns out she's one year older than me.)

Sunday

I woke up fairly late. Good Man woke up even later. "Love motel rooms are the darkest hotel rooms I've ever seen," I said. The windows were all covered in black plastic, then shuttered over. These rooms were dark.

"That's so people can forget about the outside world."

"And the fact that they're cheating on their spouses at 3 pm?" I said.

Good Man laughed, "Exactly."

This morning we went to 안성향교. Anseong Hanggyo is an old government-run school.

Getting to the school was an adventure. We headed on one direction for breakfast, then another direction when we realized what we thought was there wasn't. Then we headed to the school site but got lost. We ended up asking an ajumma for directions (Good Man fears ajummas), which got us meandering through a neighborhood, across a bridge, and over a very large hill. We then started hiking up a mountain, detoured to a farmed area behind some houses, and were promptly scared by loud barking dogs.

We did, in a rather roundabout way, end up where we wanted to be.

We founded several women and men (bordering the aunt/grandma and uncle/grandpa line) at the site, packing up. Unknown to us, today was Confucius'/공자's birthday and they had had a celebration for him since the school was originally built to help instill Confucian ideas.

We headed down the street to find a Buddhist temple being remodeled. The wood was unpainted and so incredibly gorgeous. There were status (Buddha, the turtle, the lion) out in front and people working inside. We went up there to take pictures and didn't see anyone around. When some people came out of the temple, we greeted them and they greeted us. They didn't seem to mind that we were taking photos and they went on with their work before we could even ask permission.

We meandered through the neighborhood and got back to the main street. (I have no idea how Good Man did that. I was so turned around!) We headed back to the stream for the festival again.

A college group doing a traditional Korean dance passed us a few times. Everyone wanted to ham it up for the foreign girl with the big DSLR. I got some good pictures. Good Man also took hold of the camera for a while. I expect he'll also invest in a big DSLR one way.

We finally left around 4 pm, exhausted. On top of it, I discovered I was sunburnt. Three months of rain and grey clouds can make one forget what the sun does to skin.

Such a nice weekend. It's been a long, long time since I had a real weekend trip in Korea and I needed it.

Oh, and we traveled well together.

Nice.

South Korea
5 October 2007, 6PM

(Yes, this is how it came off the camera. Only post-processing was to crop, resize, and pump up contrast a tad.)

My family's first computer (around...1992 or 1993?) had a 6 MB hard drive. My friends at the time (mostly guys) said this was impossible. Computers only came in 2, 4, 8, and 16 MB they said (32, too, maybe?). Our computer was 2 + 4 and that was enough at the time.

Now my laptop's hard drive is 51.2 GB (more than 52,000 MB). My handphone is 3 GB and m Nikon D80 memory card is 2 GB. My handphone is 500 of those computers and my memory card is more than 330 of them.

Saturday night, while I was working on my photos, my laptop was molasses slow. Turns out I had 94.7 MB of 51.2 GB free. Now, about a month ago Good Man helped me free up about 1/3rd of my hard drive so what was going on?

I looked at my photos. I shot Namhansan entirely in RAW format. The smallest photo was at least 6 MB. The largest was over 10 MB. This was the first time I'd shot in RAW alone. For the rest of September I'd been shooting RAW and superfine JPG!

And this is why my computer