One Month Down...

Greetings!

The weather has turned cold, which is unfortunate as I will have to start wearing regular shoes to work. I currently wear flip flops as we are not allowed to wear "outside shoes" into school, and it's easiest to flip off the outside flops and slip on the inside flops. You'll be amused to know that as the weather has turned colder, I've taken to wearing socks with my flips, which means that the thong part squishes the socks down between my big and second toes. It's very sexy.

Although it's very quiet and I get stared at a lot due to the lack of foreigners in my immediate area, my dong is starting to grow on me. There's a giant trampoline down the block that it so genius and so wonderful I wonder why it hasn't taken off in the U.S. yet. (I'm sure it has to do with the "inherent danger" of the evil trampoline. Koreans are much less protective of their offspring than we are, and as a result, these kids are tough- much tougher than myself!) 6 trampolines joined together, covered by a giant dome-shaped tarp. It's fantastical. There's also an apartment park down the other block, and a larger neighborhood park about 10 minutes away. The old ladies sit on the sidewalk selling their vegetables, and the mothers haggle with them over bundles of turnips. I've taken to walking around the streets for a short while after work, and I discover something new every time, no matter how many times I've already paced the street.

I've yet to seen blatant proof of this, but I've seen hints of it----- I live on Prositution Row. There's many bars on my street with the windows darkened, and others have booths that are visible through the windows but there are curtains surrounding the booth, which is a sure sign of suspicious activity.

More ludicrous than the fact that my school put me up on this street is the fact that a hagwon is being built here, and it's the first ground level hagwon that I've ever seen.

"Kids, let's talk about jobs. See that lady walking down the street? What is her job?" "Prostitute, teacher!" "Good job, class! Can you spell prositute?" "P-r-o-s-t-i-t-u-t-e." "Very good!!"

I'm finally remembering all the good things- and bad- things about being here. The good things are my kids, and the laughs they give me, and watching them learn. Eating dinner with my friends. Being independent and not having to answer to anyone. The subway. Green tea. Men carrying purses. Going to the market and not having any idea what those crazy vegetables are. Having time to read and watch movies. Kids wearing shirts that say "Eat shit" and "Tell your boobs to stop looking at my face" and being completely clueless about it - one of my favorite kids (she's about 16) wore a shirt today that said *In nature, the little head does all the thinking.* If she only knew!

The bad things are the lack of bookstores with English books. Not being able to communicate when the cashier accuses me of not giving her enough money. Korean men who think I'm a hooker. Being years older than all the girls here, and listening to them moan about how old they are. Listening to girls complain about how fat they are. (Would you complain about your glasses to a blind man? Would you complain to a quadraplegic about sore knees after running a race? Sure, I love my tits and ass, but come on!) TV- they show the same horrible shows and movies over and over and over again. The noise- everyone is loud here. Cars honking 24/7. People yelling in the street at 2 am. Missing my nephews. Missing my friends. Being the only single person in a group of people who have somehow managed to find companionship in this desolate and strange place. Saying goodbye- always saying goodbye.

The worst thing is the loneliness. Even for those lucky enough - or stupid enough- to have found love here, loneliness is a constant. I don't know why. Maybe it's being away from home, or not being able to communicate, or the constant emigration of people, but it's difficult to feel connected here. Sometimes, the loneliness runs so deep that I can hear the pulsing of my heart echo through my body.

The past month has flown by, and I know the rest of the year will too. I try not to think about coming home, but I do. Part of me can't wait to come back- when something makes you happy, it only makes sense that you'd want to be with it all the time (stolen from a movie, I can't remember which one). But part of me loves this freedom and this life and although it's not exactly stable, in a perverse way, it offers me security and protection.

I keep reminding myself that I returned to Korea for very specific reasons. I think as long as I accomplish my goals, I'll be ready to come home.

If not......

I miss you all. I hope that each day is filled with your own personal Snow Cake.