Home Sweet Home…

Home at last!

Wow, what a trek….

All of the pictures from our journey around the world can be found on our Facebook pages (click on the “About” tab to find links to our profiles). We wanted to keep this website as an memoir of our teaching experiences in Korea, so it will now be permanently archived.

If you are new to our site and would like to experience what it was like moving half way around the world to teach English in South Korea, begin your journey here -> http://kenandjess2go.wordpress.com/2009/08/18/preparing-for-the-flight/

If you just want to sit back and watch the videos, simply click on the “Video Archive” category on the right.

Enjoy!

****************

Are you interested in teaching overseas? Feel free to send us your questions! We’d love to share our experiences with you!

Contact Ken at: KennethMajor@hotmail.com

Contact Jess at: JessicaLee46@gmail.com

Trip of a Lifetime…

This is it…the final itinerary.

We left Canada on Aug 18th 2009. Our expected return date is Dec 23rd 2010 (Christmas Eve Eve!).

What’s next for us? 112 days of nothing but the shoes on our feet, the bags on our backs, and the wide open world begging to be explored.

One chapter has come to an end, and another is about to begin!

So long Korea! It’s been a hell of a ride…

Trip of a lifetime. 492 days from start to finish...

- Ken & Jess

The End is Near

In four days, we’ll be hitting our one year mark in Korea.

Holy crap.

There were far too many ups and downs to reminisce about in a single blog entry. It’s been good, it’s been bad, but most importantly, it’s been an experience. One thing’s for sure; I’m glad we wrote it all down.

I can’t even remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, so to have a website full of memories that we can keep for the rest of our lives is absolutely invaluable. And to be able to share our adventures with you, the readers, has been so much fun.

It’s hard to believe that just barely over a year ago, neither of us even knew that we’d be teaching in Korea. The idea was seeded in a small conversation, grew into an application, and resulted in an opportunity, which we eagerly grabbed a hold of. There aren’t many times in our lives when we can simply let ourselves be guided by the winds of opportunity, and we weren’t going to let the chance slip past us. 

Man, can life ever throw some wicked curve balls.

To quote some motivational poster I read somewhere, written by someone, at some point in history, probably for some very important reason:

“Learn to embrace change, and you’ll begin to recognize that life is in constant motion, and every change happens for a reason. When you see boundaries as opportunities, the world becomes a limitless place, and your entire life becomes an adventure.”

Amen.

- Ken

Summer Vacation in Busan

Ken and I decided to take a spur of the moment trip to Haeundae this week. This area of Busan is known for its popular beach – a large, sparkling, stretch of crystalline sand, bordered by frosty blue waves that beautifully break on the shore.

Haeundae beach is infamous for the thousands of people who visit its waters on a regular basis. In the 2008 Guinness Book of World Records, Haeundae was recorded to have 7,937 parasols firmly planted in its sand at one time. Stories have been spread about the beach being too overcrowded – enough to ruin any day trip or vacation spent

Originally, Ken and I had planned to spend our entire summer vacation of ten days in Jeju-do, but it being pretty much the top summer destination in Korea, we would’ve spent over fifteen hundred dollars alone on the flight and motel fees.

Knowing the probable outcome of heading to Haeundae for a few days, Ken and I went for it anyways. We knew we were deserving of a little sand ‘n’ sun after running weeks and weeks’ worth of English camps.

***

Upon arrival in Haeundae, Ken and I scouted for motels. About five or six blocks from the beach, there were several alleyways that were filled with flashing neon signs for motels. We had seen them once before and knew that our best bet was to focus on those brightly lit areas.

After finding several motels marked at 80,000 –100,000 won (80-100 CAD) per weekday, and 90,000 – 140,000 won on the weekends, we finally settled on a motel where the manager bargained his price to 60,000 won for Wednesday night, 70,000 won for Thursday night, and 80,000 won for Friday night. Ken and I didn’t complain. We had found a swanky motel room fit for a hotel, complete with a Jacuzzi, a wide-screen plasma TV, a couch, and a computer equipped with high-speed internet.

In the morning, Ken and I planned to head straight to the beach. The sun beamed with golden streams of sunlight, cottony clouds decorated the skies, and cool, salty air swept between the tall buildings. However, there was one problem – Ken had forgotten his bathing suit! Afraid of being caught nude by the beach police, Ken and I went in search of some swim trunks to wear for the next few days. They were incredibly easy to find. The streets were littered with shops and stands selling swim wear, sunglasses, sandals, all from 5,000 won – 60,000 won! We easily bought two pairs of summery swim shorts directed ourselves towards the water.

The beach wasn’t at all what we expected. Although there were thousands of red, white, and blue parasols lining Haeundae’s shores, there were still men calling out to visitors to rent parasols. They were quite inexpensive. At 5,000 won for the two of us, we were shown to a spot in the rows and rows of blue umbrellas sticking up from the soft sand. A large beach mat was set up between two parasols, and we were set. We didn’t need anything else, not even the yellow swim tubes that were being rented for 5,000 a piece.

The strips of parasols seemed to make a relatively safe environment in which to leave our things. There were beach bags, purses, shoes, and towels left under almost every parasol. Obviously, we didn’t bring our wallets to the beach, but took out enough money for lunch and other little luxuries. There were men and women walking through the lines of umbrellas taking advantage of thousands of resting visitors. They sold bottled water, boxes of fried chicken, beer, soda, and pat-bing-sue (shredded ice with sweetened red beans, ice cream, and fruit).

It was finally time to enter the water. The turquoise waves crashed upon us and left our eyes burning from the salt, but the crisp, cold water was undeniably refreshing after each dive into the waves. Ken and I weren’t sandwiched between other people in the water, but rather, everyone had their own space to aimlessly float on their tubes, or swim with the waves. During our timeouts from the water, Ken and I rested and people-watched. We saw several men, bodies smeared in tanning oil, strutting their stuff along the beach. There were also some scantily-clad women, choosing to dawn petite bathing suits and stiletto heels. In contrast, there were many people who played it safe and wore shirts and shorts over their bathing suits. We saw one young pair of parents who had dressed their delicate daughter in a bee-striped bathing suit, complete with a set of foam, black wings.

The popular Haeundae beach scene cooled down at around six o’clock in the evening, and visitors started to leave. The lifeguards and jet-ski patrols had finished their duties, and were herding swimmers onto the shore. The police patrollers were getting ready for their nightly rounds, making sure that no one was to enter Haeundae’s waters while it was dark. Garbage collectors began to sweep the littered beach, moving quickly to beat the shimmering sunset before the sun gave out completely. Amazingly, almost all of the thousands of parasols and sandy beach mats had been folded up and put away for the night. All of the swim tubes were deflated and piled under a few tarps. By seven ‘o clock, the beach looked impeccable, as if it had been untouched all day.

After drying off in our motel, Ken and I went in search for some good ol’ city grub. Through the salty mist that filled the air, we found a large selection of outdoor cafes, outdoor stands, boisterous bars, seafood restaurants, mouth-watering grills, and several chain restaurants, luring us in with their rich aromas and brightly-lit signs. We treated ourselves to chili-shrimp pasta, a parmesan-crusted, chicken quesadilla and smoothies at TGIF, which amounted to around 40,000 won – the same price as one dish at a seafood restaurant.

However, our night wasn’t over. We worked off our supper by taking a stroll around the beach (so romantic!), and found many little bits of entertainment along the main streets. There were stands set up with mini games, such as scooping up a certain number of fish to win a prize. Ken won me a little stuffed leopard after throwing 32 darts and popping 20 balloons on a wall (to be fair, I threw a few of those darts, and Ken had had a large can of Heineken beer before starting the game). We dubbed our spotted animal, “Dah-teu” in honour of the game from which we had won him.

***

For the next couple of days, the weather was perfect enough to be outside, but the water was a tad chilly to swim in all day. Our time was filled with romantic walks on the beach, tough geocaches around the area, a hike up to Haeundae’s famous lighthouse, and plenty of movies, beer, and pizza.

Haeundae was everything we had hoped for in a vacation. During those four days, we hadn’t had a care in the world. We soaked in plenty of rest and relaxation, had a blast in the sun and water, and returned to Andeok with amazing tans.

- Jess

Geocaching with Sunny’s Family

Geocaching has led Jess and I to discover some absolutely beautiful off-the-beaten-path areas during our travels. I could write all day about the benefits of geocaching (everything from exercise to simply spending time with your loved ones), but I’ll save that for some other time. Besides, it’s always better to experience it first-hand.

Jess and I have introduced our hobby to countless people already, and Sunny’s family was more than eager to learn about this mysterious treasure hunt where according to the site (www.geocaching.com), “You are the search engine.”

We located Andong on the geocaching website, and to our excitement, found a few “caches” located nearby. I let her daughters plug the coordinates into my GPS, and we headed out in search of the elusive treasure boxes.

The first cache was located on a newly-constructed wooden bridge, crossing over a beautiful river on the outskirts of Andong. I had used the trip over to explain to them what they were looking for, so when we arrived, they immediately took off in search of the hidden log book. Once at the approximate site of the geocache (at what we call, “ground zero”), the girls started to poke and prod in every nook and cranny of the bridge. Within minutes, the oldest daughter called out that she had found it! We all crowded around her to glimpse at the contents of the container, and passed around the log book for each person to sign. We took a few group pictures, and headed off in search of the second geocache.

Fueled by the excitement of our first geocache find together, the group persistently marched the 600m climb up the hill to the second geocache. The daughters took turns as GPS navigators, Jess and Sunny scouted, and I busied myself digging through every spider web-filled hole I could find. Sunny’s husband stood off to the side, and watched us on our frantic (and seemingly futile) search. After about fifteen minutes, he casually walked over to a stone wall and pulled on one of the pieces. It slid out to reveal a small hollow chamber with a Tupperware container neatly tucked away inside. He took it out, and stood for a few brief moments with a beaming smile on his face, not quite sure what to do next. His daughters quickly took it from him and opened it up to see what was inside. It contained the usual log book, pen, and geocaching rules, but in addition to these things it also had a trackable “travel bug” which was later logged on the website and mailed to Krystal to hide in Canada (it’s “mission” is to travel as far as possible from geocache to geocache). After we had all signed the logbook, we sealed up the cache and placed it back in its hiding place.

Never a dull moment when you’re out geocaching… especially with great people.

- Ken

Meeting Sunny’s Family

Certain key factors can either make or break your teaching experience in Korea. One of the most important, in my opinion, is your co-teacher. As Jess wrote about earlier, Korean co-teachers have an extraordinary weight on their shoulders, and are expected to carry it voluntarily.

Sunny, my Korean co-teacher at Gucheon Middle School, has been an absolute pleasure to work with. Her cheery disposition and warm smile always did the trick of cheering me up during the rough patches of my contract. She took every challenge in stride, and never hesitated to go above and beyond the call of her duties. Today was a perfect example of her willingness to help in any situation.

An unusual pain in Jess’ back (don’t worry, it was nothing serious) forced us to make an unplanned trip to the Andong hospital. We gave Sunny a call mid-trip to find out the clinic hours, and she insisted on meeting us at the bus terminal in person.

She greeted us at the terminal with open arms, escorted us to her car, and drove us to the hospital. Along the way, we found out that she initially had dinner plans with the in-laws, but that she was “Dynamic…just like Korea!” She didn’t even think twice about re-shuffling her plans to help us out.

Our hospital “adventure” was slightly chaotic to say the least. To make a long story short, there’s absolutely no way that Jess and I would’ve been able to see a doctor without Sunny’s help. The hospital was a fortress of corridors, side wards, and people bustling around in every direction. Each step of the way, from triage to testing, was a good five minute walk away. Blindly running around the hospital corridors trying to translate each and every sign would’ve been impossible on our own. Luckily, this story has a happy ending. We did what we had to do, and headed out happy and healthy.

Instead of going directly back to the bus terminal, we accepted her offer to visit her apartment and meet her family. Her high-rise was only a few minutes away from the hospital in the quiet outskirts of Andong. There we met her husband and two daughters, and spent the afternoon chatting with them like old friends. Her husband doesn’t speak very much English, but that didn’t stop him from joining in the conversation whenever he had the chance. Her daughters were quite shy at first, but quickly opened up once the conversation started rolling. They were sweet, soft-spoken, and very inquisitive girls with an obvious desire to practice their English conversation skills.

Later in the evening, we all went out for a delicious jjimdak (a very spicy chicken and noodle dish) dinner, and finished the evening off with iced coffee and a movie. After the movie, we returned back to their apartment, and were promptly invited to spend the night. As Sunny prepared one of the girl’s rooms for us, her husband opened up a bottle of wine and pulled out some roasted garlic for us to snack on. We stayed up with them all night talking about our year in Korea and reflecting on some of the best and worst times.

Today started off a bit rough, but it certainly ended on a good note.

- Ken

My Co-Teachers

Over my past year here in Korea, I’ve had seven Korean co-teachers. I’ve had the pleasure of working with both males and females, at the levels of middle and high school.

In the month of March, the beginning of the new school year, there was a turnover of two of my favourite co-teachers.

One of them was my high school co-teacher of my secondary school. She was always eager to help in class, but only ever pitched in when she needed to do so. Luckily enough, she was replaced by a temporary teacher, who had just spent four months in the New Zealand and the Philippines studying English. My new co-teacher treated me like a sister, and we would socialize in English during our lunch break, laughing at jokes that the other Korean teachers couldn’t understand.

The other teacher leaving was my main co-teacher. She had to rotate schools because her five-year teaching period was up at my main school. She was always on top of everything, knew exactly what events were coming up that concerned me, and took care of tasks that dealt with the Regional Offices of Education (all of those fiddly documents that had to be co-signed by varying levels of authority throughout the school). I was the oblivious English teacher, with an awesome co-teacher who took care of me like an adoptive mother.

One of the most drastic changes I encountered this year was the switch-up between my main co-teacher and a new Korean English teacher from Yeongyang. For the first couple of months, I felt as though he didn’t really care an ounce about me. He’d always say, “I’m sorry, but I’m busy with documents,” interrupt me during my classes with his own personal questions, and forget about key documents and events pertaining to EPIK teachers. At first I thought he was negligent, but as I observed him towards the latter of his second month, I saw that he was truly overloaded with paperwork and was seeking the help of other teachers round the clock, trying to familiarize himself with a different school system. Acting as a volunteer Korean co-teacher for the first time would have to wait, coming in second to working long hours to prepare for a new year at a new school.

I keep forgetting that my Korean co-teachers are acting as “volunteers”. They devote their time and effort towards wholly taking care of me, a foreign teacher they know only slightly. Their work is priceless, and it’s easy for me to forget that fact. Unfortunately, with Korean teachers who are new at the role of “co-teacher”, it can be easy to forget tasks-at-hand, misplace documents, or accidentally neglect the foreign English teacher with whom he or she has been partnered. (*Note: If this is happening to you, it will be extremely helpful to know another teacher in the region, just so you can stay on top of deadlines, required documents and EPIK teacher conferences.)

I have to remember that co-teachers are completing duties for two, and that at many times, their work will extend beyond their calling, from hospital visits to all of the ordeals that foreign teachers have to deal with everyday (workplace relationships, arguing with the school administration, issues with cultural differences, broken boilers, etc.). A foreign teacher’s crap becomes his or her co-teacher’s crap.

So, cheers to our co-teachers. Cheers to the ones who are overworked, but still find the time to talk with us, walk with us, work with us, and deal with all of the good and bad experiences that we have, every single day.

- Jess

My Summer English Camps

On the first day of my Summer English Camp at Andeok School, I was fully prepared for the eight energetic munchkins that were a fraction of my middle school students.

I had prepared plenty of activities for them, with a list of sixteen tiring, but competitive games as fillers. From ‘English Limbo’, ‘Guess the Pyramid’, ‘English Mafia!’ to ‘Family Fued’, my students were continuously active throughout the afternoon, furiously trying to beat each other in a heated game, or working hard on a comprehensive activity to practice their English skills. I rewarded them with a full day of making and cooking pan pizzas. Everything was made from scratch. We made a record of eleven round, mouth-watering pizzas, in just an hour and a half.

My students were a godsend. They were excited enough to come to class everyday, even though there wasn’t any air conditioning in the English room, and they always showed up with the best attitude. I guess that their positive energy gave me the drive I needed to make sure that I had given 100% into making the camp as exciting as it could be. My first week at my main school went off without a hitch.

My second week of camp, this time at my secondary school, turned out even better than I had expected. Except for the first day (where five out of twelve students showed up…I was pretty discouraged), I had my full class of twelve eager students for the rest of the week. Despite the warm rain that was gently tapping on our classroom windows, my students and I made the most of our time indoors, by going on a school-wide treasure hunt, designing and building English games, and drawing colourful, detailed maps of the town. It was a busy, but fulfilling five days.

For the School-Wide Treasure Hunt, I prepared sets of twenty puzzle pieces hidden all over the school grounds. Each team of students had to read the clues on their clue sheet, find the location of the clue, collect the puzzle piece, assemble it with the others, and finally, answer the question on the completed puzzle. I camouflaged the puzzle pieces pretty well, so activity took a total of two hours. It was utterly exhausting to prepare and execute, but it was altogether satisfying in the end.

For two of the days where the downpour was quite ridiculous, my students create maps of their towns (since some of them travel across several towns to attend school), and designed and built their own English games. For the maps, I awarded points towards creative design and labels (roads, buildings, fields, etc.). For the games, I looked at the rules (written in English), how well the game played, and the design. It was amazing to see what the students could create with merely paper, crayons, scissors, and glue.

I rewarded these students with a delectable chocolate cake, drowned in a chocolate glaze. Again, everything was made from scratch. It took quite a while for me to create the recipe, especially since the entire thing had to be cooked in the microwave. Suffice to say, the cake was a success, and all of us were wishing that I had brought with me some milk to complement the velvety chocolate concoction that we had created.

Sometimes English camps can turn into your worst nightmare, but sometimes, with a little careful planning…and a little stress, they can end up being exactly the way you want them to be .

- Jess

Eating Korean Dog Meat (Part 2)

Eating Korean Dog Meat

Snail Hunt After-Party

Jess and I had a lot plans for this weekend. We were going to go grocery shopping, relax in Pohang, watch the firework festival, go see a movie, and much more… but none of them happened.

The rainy season is really putting a damper on our travels. It can be a beautiful 40^oC sunny day outside one minute, and the next minute you’re in a torrential downpour. There’s no way to predict what type of weekend you’re going to have, and the Korean Meteorological Society is far from being accurate (although they did successfully put a weather satellite into space last month… high five Korea!).

Instead of a nice trip to the beach, Jess and I spent another nice night in Andeok (close enough…right?). We watched a movie on the computer, had a superb dinner (homemade poutine!), and then took a nice midnight stroll down to the river. We set ourselves up on the small dam, and talked over the sound of the rushing water around us.

Suddenly, two SUV’s pulled up to the side of the dam, and about a dozen people jumped out. They were all in their thirties and fourties, but they sounded like a bunch of teenagers, giggling and chattering in excitement the whole way down. At the bottom, they approached the water holding spotlights, buckets, nets, and other fishing gear. They said hello to us as they walked by, but our presence didn’t deter them from the fun of their little “midnight excursion.”

They spent most of their time on the far side of the dam where the water wasn’t as deep. One or two people held the spotlights in place, while the third guy wadded through the thigh-deep water, overturning rocks and plucking things off of them. We have no idea what all the others were doing, but we could hear their faint laughter in the distance.

As we later found out, they were hunting for snails. I have seen ajummas collecting snails in the river before, but this was the first time I’ve seen a young, well-dressed group of people rush to the river in SUV’s for a little midnight snail hunt…

We’re still not quite sure why they were hunting them, or what they were planning on doing with their “catch,” but it was it was quite something to watch. If this is the new Andeok after-party scene, count me in!

- Ken

Week One Complete

I had a bit of a rough start to the week, but it ended up turning out really well.

One of my co-workers brought his little boy to school to join the camp, and he’s just the funniest little Korean kid to work with. He reminds me of a Korean version of Calvin (from “Calvin and Hobbes”) with a short attention span, huge imagination, and the ability to have some sort of food on his face at any given time. I’ll be in the process of teaching him something, turn my back for just a second, and when I turn back he’ll have either a grape stain, chocolate stain, or unidentified smear around his lips. I just don’t understand how he does it…

Anyway, my class size stayed at a steady one to three students for the rest of the week (which was nice and quiet), and we did end up getting a lot of work done (surprisingly). Near the end of the week, they were much less interested in worksheets, and much more interested in open discussions while playing boards games. We talked about some of the classic round-table topics such as, “If you could have any superpower, what would it be,” and, “If you could be the President for a day, what would you do.”

If the Principal had walked in, he would not have been too happy that I wasn’t busy, hammering verbs down their throats, but I’ve found these types of open discussions way more beneficial for not only raising their vocabulary usage, but also raising their confidence.

- Ken

And Then There Were Two

Only two kids showed up to camp today.

We watched a Mr. Bean clip, played a few rounds of “Guess Who” (with push-ups as punishment for the loser of each round), and watched “Hurt Locker.”

I got a few smiles, an English sentence or two, and a promise that they’d show up tomorrow.

I guess that constitutes as progress?

- Ken

Let the Summer Camp Fun Begin

Well, that was an interesting first day of camp.

I arrived at school early, opened up the classroom, and prepared for my kids to arrive. I’m technically supposed to start my day at 9:45 a.m., but I figured they’d trickle in a little late considering it was the first day.

10:15 a.m. rolled around, and my classroom was still empty. The first student showed up at 10:20 a.m., followed soon after by four more.

My schedule was up on the board for all of them to see, and it read:

1 – 9:45 – 10:30

2 – 10:40 – 11:25

3 – 11:35 – 12:20

4 – 12:30 – 1:15

Once they settled in, they looked at the clock (it was now 10:30 a.m.) and said, “Teacher, break time!”

I flat-out refused, telling them that we had just started, so the schedule was going to change for today. In response to my “dynamic” shift in schedule, I received five pouting teenage boys glaring back at me. What a great start…

As with all of my camps, the first thing I did was hand out a small questionnaire for them to fill out. It was nothing complicated at all, but I wanted to gauge how to structure my camp to suit their needs. I quickly discovered why these boys were dragging their feet every step of the way.

Here were the questions for the survey, and their responses:

1) What do hope to learn from this English Camp?

Five out of the five answered: English.

2) Why are you in English Camp?

Four out of the five answered something along the lines of: Mr. Kim said we’d die if we didn’t come (meaning that they were here as punishment).

The other student answered: Home is boring.

3) What is your favourite thing to do in English camp?

Five out of the five answered: Games

4) What is your least favourite thing to do in English camp?

Five out of the five answered: Study

5) How many days will you attend English camp?

Four out of the five answered: 4 days.

The other student answered: Never

…

After the survey, we warmed up with a Mr. Bean clip followed by some comprehensive questions. They loved the clip, but hated the questions. Only one out of the five kids was paying attention, and I really didn’t have the energy to try and whip the others into shape. They were trouble-makers of the class all year, and it seemed that all of us were in silent agreement that things were not going to change for this one solid week together.

I spent the last two periods letting them do what they do best. Make fun of each other.

I gave each of them a piece of paper and told them to draw their partner in a caricature-type manner. They then had to write down five descriptive sentences, and present their “masterpieces” to be put up on the wall. We finished right on time, and before I could say, “Goodbye,” they were already out the door.

Should be a “fun” week…

- Ken

Death by Summer Camps

Summer should be a time for kids to spend their days laughing and playing outside with their friends. Such is not the case on this side of the planet.

Today marks the first day of “summer vacation.” For my kids, “summer vacation” simply means, “to work outside of the academic year.” Some of them are studying in private institutions to get ahead of their peers before the start of the next semester, some of them are working on their parent’s farms, and some of them are attending summer camps.

While it’s true that there are some students quietly tucked away in PC rooms wasting their summer days away, most of them are doing anything but enjoying their “free” time.

This semester, I have to run three weeks of camps. The first week is for high school students, the second week is for middle school students at my branch school, and the third week is for middle school students at my main school. Kill me now…

Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids. Well, most of them at least. But teaching the same kids for four classes a day, five days a week can be quite the challenge. Sometimes you feel more like a babysitter than an actual teacher, and with the added fourty degree heat, it’s easy to lose your mind.

Well, at least I have the weekend to relax, re-charge the batteries, and try and start the week off on a good note.

- Ken

Korean Dog Meat

The subject of “Korean Dog Meat” is one which I purposely haven’t written about until now.

Why did I wait a year? The reason is really quite simple: I’m a Westerner.

As a Westerner, I had a strong bias on the subject before I moved here. Now that I’ve been living and breathing Korean culture for a full year, I feel like I’m now in a much better state of mind to write a balanced blog entry.

Let me first state that no, not all Koreans eat dog meat. While it was certainly a common Korean dish merely a few decades ago (especially after the Korean War at a time when beef and pork were difficult to obtain), it is becoming increasingly rare to find. Almost all restaurants in the major cities have removed dog meat from their menus, and people are beginning to adopt a “western outlook” regarding dogs as pets rather than a delicious source of lean meat.

Luxurious canine spas are popping up all over the country in response to the overwhelming demand to pamper these new pets. People are dishing out HUGE amounts of money to keep their furry friends groomed, full of expensive treats, and up-to-date with the latest fashion trends. Despite accepting this as “normal” practice, we are but a few countries that treat our pets better than our in-laws.

This morning was the first time I’ve ever witnessed the killing of a dog for meat.

The dog’s owner, a farmer, led it up onto a giant overturned bucket. He tied a thin wire around its neck, fastened it to the underside of an A-Frame ladder, and then pulled the bucket from under its legs. At first, the dog panicked and thrashed about back and forth with such viciousness that I thought the ladder would fall over. Its struggle only made the wire cut deeper into its neck as it spun around the central axis of the noose. A few moments later, its movements were reduced to full-body shudders, and then finally subsided to the occasional off-beat leg twitches. As quickly as it had started, it ended. The dog’s tongue hung off to the side as its eyes glazed over, staring straight up at the morning sky. Meanwhile, the farmer was off to one side, casually picking up branches that he had cut earlier from his apple tree.

…

I don’t like to see ANY animals die. Chickens, cows, pigs, and fish are all part of my regular diet, but I still have a difficult time seeing them being slaughtered for consumption.

But for me, seeing a dog being killed is on a whole different level of sensitivity. Why? In all honesty, I don’t know. They’re just animals like all the others…aren’t they? 

Well, the answer isn’t a simple yes or no. From a scientific perspective, the answer is yes. From an anthropological perspective, the answer can be a resounding no. Different animals have been seen in different hierarchical levels at different points in history, and this varied tremendously by culture. I’m not going to try and debate which cultural ideals were (or currently are) morally right or wrong, I’m just trying to shed some light on a single event that prompted me to question the extent of my cultural “open-mindedness.”

I can easily debate either side of the “Korean Dog Meat” dispute, but what I can’t do is change the fact that I cringed as I watched a dog being killed this morning.

Some values are so deeply engrained that no amount of cultural immersion can completely remove them from the subconscious mind.

I will continue to eat meat, yet I will also buy our family dog his favourite treats when I return home to Canada.

I am not perfect.

I am, after all, just another animal…

- Ken

Last Week of School

Wow. This is it. The last week of school.

I taught my first class barely eleven months ago, and now I’ve just completed my final lesson plan. I can’t believe it’s almost over.                     

I know I’m not a professional teacher, but I sure as hell gave it my best shot. I never had any previous teaching experience, I never had any teaching education, and I never had any preparations at all. But I do know for a fact that these kids took away something from my short time here in Korea.

I remember the first week of school like it was yesterday. The kids were wide-eyed and curious to see a “wehgook” (foreigner) in their school. They stared, waved, and occasionally said “hi,” but only from a distance. Now, I can walk around the school and have full conversations with them about what they did over the weekend, gossip about other teachers (“Did you know Mr. Kim picks his nose in the teachers room?”), or give the middle school boys some “girl advice” (they adore Jessica, and they want to know how to “get one” like her). Not only did their English fluency levels sky-rocket, but so did their level of confidence.

Koreans know how to study. They study hard, and they study a lot. So even if I didn’t have the formal training to put it all in there, I at least helped them to open up and get it all out.

Will they remember “Ken Teacher?”

…

- Ken

Lunch with Korean Superstar Lee Hyori!

Walking around Seoul, Jess and I decided to stop in at a tiny sandwich café for a quick lunch.

As I stepped through the doorway, I saw one other person sitting at a table, quietly sipping a glass of water as she waited for her meal to arrive. She looked up, and I immediately recognized her as the Korean Superstar (and highest paid female singer in Korea) Lee Hyori!

I nudged Jess and quietly told her who it was. Jess didn’t believe me, but being an avid K-Pop fan before moving to Korea, I didn’t have a single doubt in my mind about her identity. Jess later told me that she also knew who it was but wasn’t AS sure about it as I was. Pffffft ya right…

We sat down at the table next to her, and took a quick peek at the menu. They had so many amazing sandwiches to offer, but I really couldn’t concentrate until settling her identity once and for all.

I leaned over and asked, “Excuse me, are you a singer?” She smiled and replied, “Yes, my name is Hyori. How do you know me?” The next part is kind of a blur, but I vaguely remember mumbling something about watching her music videos before coming to Korea. She was the one who hooked me onto K-Pop, and I would’ve never imagined myself eating lunch next to her.

To be honest, I really wasn’t nervous at all speaking to her at all. Looking back, I had every reason to be nervous, but she was just really easy-going and had more questions for us than we did for her. We talked about anything and everything, as if we were old friends just catching up on news. The next thing on her agenda was the filming of a “gochujang” commercial, and we could tell that she wasn’t too excited about it. We stayed with her as long as we could, slowly sipping our coffees and relaxing in the shade of the café.

When we finished lunch, she wrote down her e-mail address on the back of our receipt, and asked us to send her a message the next time we visited Seoul. Two Canadian backpackers would stand out in one of her celebrity parties like a sore thumb, but it would still be one hell of an experience.

We left the restaurant together, and she was immediately recognized by a group of passerby’s. There was a collective gasp, and they all started whispering in excited tones, occasionally daring to say her name. Hyori just pulled down her hat to cover her eyes, and kept walking with us up the street.

Away from the crowd, she hailed a cab to bring her to work. We said our goodbyes, and headed off on our separate ways.

- Ken

Fight at the Indian Embassy

Gone are the days where you could simply throw on a backpack and travel the world.

Yes, there are still places that you can simply fly into, get your visa at the airport, and be on your way. But seeing as Jess and I are planning to trek through at least eight different countries, we couldn’t risk being turned away for a lack of paperwork. So far, the planning process hadn’t been overly difficult, but we were still missing one essential Visa; the Indian Visa.

This was by far the most frustrating process I’ve ever had to endure for something as small as a signature. For normal people doing a normal trip in a normal timeframe, getting the Visa wouldn’t be difficult at all. But we were trying to get a Visa in a foreign country, at an embassy that we couldn’t readily visit, and far too early to be processed through the regular system.

The nuisances we encountered along the way were far too numerous to outline in a blog entry, so I’ll try my best to sum them up as concisely as possible.

1) The Indian Ambassador was one of the rudest people I’ve ever met.

2) The Indian Ambassador loved his “veto” power… a lot.

3) The Indian Ambassador was an asshole.

As you can see, most of our problems originated from a single source. As Satan’s Indian sidekick, he did a fantastic job of doing everything in his power to suck as much of our souls as possible in the time we were in his office.

He flat-out told us that he wouldn’t let us into “his country.” When asked why, he simply stated, “Go to a different embassy.” We had ALL of our proper documents in order, we followed all of the steps outlined on the embassy website (and cross-checked with the Visa Services Canada website), and his signature was the final step for approval. And boy, did he ever make us work for that signature.

I did everything short of getting on my knees and begging him for it. The whole time I was arguing with him, he didn’t once look in my direction. He just sat back in his chair, eyeing his solid gold watch, and basking in his “power.”

After what felt like an eternity, he reached out with one hand, signed the paper, and dismissed us from his office with a series of quick “shooing” movements.

We ran out and didn’t look back…

- Ken

The Bat

My co-teacher and I were walking out of the cafeteria at Hyeonseo High School, when she noticed a fuzzy blob clinging to the mesh screen of the sliding door. In all honesty, the little mass of fur looked like a headless mouse, incomplete with a lack of appendages and a tail.

The cafeteria ladies quickly came over to see the reason for why we were staring blankly at the mesh screen. One of them happened to have a fly swatter on her, so she poked and prodded at the little grayish ball…

It sprouted some wings.

All four of the cafeteria ladies jumped back and screamed. All I could say was, “Aww…” The little blob was a tiny little bat, apparently unable to fly (what I deduced from the incessant prodding and lack of flight). My co-teacher swiftly took the fly swatter, unstuck the tiny creature, and quickly placed it into a bush in front of the cafeteria. We decided it was best to leave it there since lunch time was in ten minutes and we weren’t going to subject the teeny guy to the mercy of one hundred hungry high school and middle school students.

(Sigh)…I wanted to keep it…

- Jess