"Going Native"

Most mornings start with a viewing of the news via the Internet. Sometimes, we check out the entertainment section only, simply because we're not in the mood for bombings, political intrigue, or environmental disasters. Today, we skip the process entirely.

It's day one of my Summer Exploration classes, so I review material while ingesting a quick breakfast of boiled egg, cold rice, red leaf lettuce, and cold tea. The eggs here are unlike the grayish foul smelling offerings Canadians get commercially. These have a bright yellowy-orange yolk and are full-flavoured like the organic, free-range ones at home. Each egg is individually stamped to ensure it has been quality checked.

En route to the Language Education Centre, I note the enormous sign atop the building exhorting students to, "Aim High and Learn." I pass an old man pulling a flatbed sized cart of carefully folded and stacked cardboard boxes for recycling, and young members of the military in green camouflage. At Incheon airport in Seoul they wore navy coloured fatigues and carried rifles. Either way, they cut striking figures.

The soldiers, like most Koreans, are slim and fit, despite a diet heavy on eggs, pork, and high glycemic index white rice. It's rare to see someone who is overweight, but with those who are, it seems to be due more to their body type than fat accumulation. I have yet to see a single obese Korean. Perhaps it's because, in Gwangju at least, nature provides one colossal stairmaster, and it's always set on extreme. My glutes and calves haven't been tested so thoroughly for decades!

At 9 on the dot, I meet my first morning class. The group is low level beginner, so the materials provided for teaching them are rendered useless. Thankfully, since this program focusses on speaking and listening, it's easy to revise on the spot. The students, all 20 year old freshmen, are quiet to start, but this is normal. The power differential between teacher and student in Korea is tremendous. Further, students will not offer answers voluntarily, waiting instead for the teacher to call on them.

We play an introductory game that involves guessing information about one another based on drawings of clues involving our interests and personal statistics. I use some gentle humour to break the ice, but am momentarily disconcerted when my jokes draw flatlines from the crowd. When I incorporate physical gestures into the act, things kick into gear. For example, they tell me that they're 20, and I tell them that's funny, because so am I! Too polite to indicate that they deny the veracity of my statement, they look askance. I raise my eyebrows, and they howl in delight. But the end of the third hour, they're chatting, and laughing, and clapping enthusiastically for each other and for me. As a Canadian teacher, I am used to high school students inured to the joys of learning. These kids are more like my English as an Additional Language learners back home. they feel privileged to have this opportunity, and they're more than happy to show it.

Like all young people, these kids are interested in the opposite sex, music, video games, and the Internet. Which brings me to another observation - that of the extreme contrasts in this country. The other day, Ryan was mentioning how exposure to the Internet has caused many young people to reassess their goals, taking care to establish some of the own rather than just following their parents dreams. He also said that while kids study, they often aren't sure why because they don't have a plan. These students today seemed on the opposite end of the spectrum, quite focussed on learning English and using it as a tool to better themselves.

There are other contrasts. For example, while there are many rules about what is considered rude, such as facing an elder while drinking (you have to turn sideways), brushing teeth in public is entirely acceptable. And here's another one: Recycling is in, but offices burn through paper with wild abandon. Looking for rhyme or reason proves futile, for it just "is."

At lunch, Rob and I try to pare down our portions, and I leave out the rice. The server instantly scurries over to deliver a metal bowl full. It would be impolite to say no thank you, so I dip in my chopsticks. I also get a chance to try the very popular white toast with plum jam. Expecting overly sweet, generic jam, I instead am treated to an explosion of fresh plums.

On the way back to Rob's office we bump into Daniel, the professor from the American West, who regales us with his story of misfortune in a water closet. Seems there were several buttons in place of a lever. Forced to select one, he pressed, and was immediately showered by a gush of water. He had unsuspectingly activated the bidet. We appreciatively absorb the lesson in this cautionary tale, and move on.

In the late afternoon, Kathy and Daniel call to invite us to dinner. Though tired, we accept because they're such nice people. We are surprised to discover there are other dinner companions, Southern American professors Gale and Sharon. The latter is a single mom with whom I can connect in that we seem to have similar sons. The former is a ball-buster of the first order who commandeers the entire evening. She is so overbearing that I feel like a flower closing its petals for the night. As I find myself sinking into the chair, I decide not to letter a bully ruin my night, and I go out of my way to be cheery and polite.

Someone has to be. Our table seems to have morphed into that quintesssential ugly American hoarde one sees in countries around the world during tourism season. The server is barked at, mocked, and, shall we say, underappreciated. The server's attempts at showing us how to cook our bulgogi properly are misread as him being angry and rude. Rob and I go out of our way to try to make amends and cover up for the other guests. We slip into spy mode and give each other subtle signals that indicate we're about to slap the attitude out of someone. Fittingly, after dinner Gale, who has imbibed liberally throughout the evening, tries to get us all to split the bill evenly, even though Sharon, Rob and I haven't had more than a glass of water. Kathy kindly steps up and points out the discrepancy. While the group makes plans to go out for ice cream, Rob and I head back to the apartment to decompress.

Husband and I are in Korea to learn about the people and experience the culture. We are not the travellers who go to destinations in search of Pizza Hut and McDonalds, white bread, and domestic (meaning from our home country) beer. We assiduously avoid other white folk, and actually enjoy hanging out with the locals. And we're hoping to do a little more of that tonight.

At 3:30 a.m. in this country, the South Korean team takes on Nigeria in a make-or-break FIFA match in South Africa. Once again, the giants screens are being set up by the red library, and the city is buzzing. Though I have a class in the morning, we, like many Koreans, have got our on Korean Legend jerseys and flashing red devils horns and are ready to go!