The Global Community

We're going to have an action packed day, so before calligraphy class, we feel it would behoove us to have a sensible breakfast. Rather than dipping into our cache in the fridge, we decide to finally try out the dumpling place in Sang Dae that we've been hearing so much about. We arrive around 8:30 to find the door firmly shut. This is the case at all neighbourhood shops, despite the fact that the streets and alleyways are starting to fill up.

We can't quite figure out store hours in Gwangju. For example, hairs salons and clothing shops seems to be open until the wee hours, including on the weekends. But vendors with foods often associated with breakfast don't open until late in the day. Now we're in a rush. We have to be at calligraphy class at 9, so we have about 10 minutes to find something to eat during our walk there. We pop into a convenience store and pick up those rice triangles the Japanese call onigiri, but I've heard some refer to as triangular kimbap.

At class, Rob amazes us with his simple, elegant fern leaves. My practice sheets surpass the quality of my final copies, the unfortunate result of a waterlogged callilgraphy brush. Still, it's incredible how one can change shading and tone by simply altering the amount of water in the ink.

Rob is sitting next to Eric's wife Heidi, who has just arrived in Korea. She's like every Heidi I've ever known, real or fictitious. She's strong and outgoing with a real zest for life. She teaches yoga, and has free range chickens producing organic eggs. Her effect on her husband is obvious; he is just beaming with pride and joy. They're a very sweet couple.

Beside me sits the wife of the Angry American. She's a welll-spoken, artistic spirit, but by the end of class I can see how she and her husband get along. When the program assistant comes around to collect the brushes, she snatches it from his hand and says, "Give me that. I want it." He looks confused, but smiles, and moves on. These brushes cost under a dollar, and they're available at the shop down the street.

Sharon and Gale blow in at the very end of the class, at which time Sharon loudly, viciously, and publically dresses down Ryan for giving them the wrong time. Everyone shrinks, and feels just a bit diminished for having witnessed the event. Rob and I later point out to Ryan that his email was circulated to all staff and students. Thirty plus managed to get the message, and made it to class. Sharon's outburst points, once again, to the inability of some people to take any personal responsiblity. Ryan is the same guy they call at all hours to run errands and drive them around because they're incapable of caring for themselves.

After class, we still have a yen for dumplings, so we head back to the shop for lunch. The young server tests his English skills, and Rob picks his way through the menu which is entirely in Hangeul. A full, satisfying meal for both of us costs less than five dollars Canadian. The pork dumplings and rice buns are heavenly. They're steamed in stacked metal dishes and served piping hot. We could sit in the air-conditioned restaurant, but we choose the tiny plastic stools at the outdoor shelf so we can stay connected to the action in the street.

In the afternoon, we attend the weekly session at the Global International Centre which features speakers from around the globe. Not surpringly, this is yet another initiative launched by the indefatigable International Centre President, Dr. Shin. The speaker today will be Andrea, an American journalism professor. This is the same series at which Rob will speak next weekend. It seems to be a pretty big deal; we've had students tell us they've seen posters advertising Rob's talk in convenience stores around the city. (Point of interest: In this very big city, it turns out the GIC office is in the very building we came to during week one to have the Canon technologists look at our camera.)

My TA, Hao, is our chauffeur for the ride which includes me, Rob, Andrea, and Dr. Shin's right arm, Diane. The discussion is free-wheeling and fun, producing a great deal of laughter. It turns out Andrea, like Rob, attended the University of Iowa, in Iowa City. (It's astonishing how often Rob encounters alumni.) I'm intrigued to hear that she knows, and worked across the hall from Pulitzer Prize winning author Jane Smiley. Andrea is a leftie, and we share similar views on the education systems in our countries. She also feels we have a great deal to learn from other cultures.

Andrea's talk is called, "America the Beautiful." It's a personal overview of a "defining moment in history," when President Obama won over the Iowa delegates. A self-professed idealist, she thumps her chest passionately as she speaks of Obama elevating the level of discourse, and her desire to see that trend continued. She's a fiesty one, but she has her hands full as she's coerced into deflecting and defending questions on U.S. foreign policy. She manages well, but must be impressed by the level of discourse in this very room. This crowd is politically astute and outspoken. Dr. Shin has provided a marvelous forum in which people can think and discuss matters of import.

After the talk, Rob and the rest of the group prepare to head off to the overnight temple stay. I explain to Dr. Shin that I'm unable to attend because of my back problem. He's most concerned, and ushers me into a storage room where he calls upon an athletic therapist in training to advise me how to stretch and exercise properly. Dr. Shin explains that he too had a disk issue, but has managed to rectify it without medical assistance. He says he needs to develop his core for singing, and demonstrates by belting out a powerful, window rattling, tune. It surprises us that this slender slip of a man has such bottled lightning within. He stretches out on the floor, and personally demonstrates some techniques.

Thinking I've taken up enough of this very busy man's time, I say goodbye to Rob, and grab my bag so I can leave. But Dr. Shin has other plans. He introduces me to all the office staff, and then leads me out the door and into the street. We round the corner of the building, and head into a neighbourhood filled with art galleries and shops between which are nestled numerous churches and temples. The strangest part of this all is that once one steps into the temples' courtyards, it's as if nothing exists beyond the walls. It's silent. Peaceful.

Dr. Shin spends the next 3 1/2 hours ushering me around the the area. He confirms my suspicion that the birds I've been seeing all over campus are Korean magpies. We speak of the importance of language studies as a vehicle for social enlightment, and we discuss the need for communication around the world regarding how best to education our youth, our future world leaders.

We stop in at The First Alleyway, a western pub and restaurant owned by a Canadian and filled with people from Edmonton, Toronto, and Winnipeg. We order light, tasty fish tacos. Though Dr. Shin was most interested in trying out the more expensive chicken parmigiana, the owner, in that particular Canadian/Korean way, talked him out of it saying it was too heavy for his palate, and recommended the cheaper option. Selling down is not exactly the most common business strategy where I came from.

Ever the developer of young talent, Dr. Shin bids a gal from North Carolina to join us. This receding redhead with a pronounced speech impediment has been teaching English in Gwangju for three years. She's feeling a bit burned out and disillusioned of late. She's frustrated saying she's trying hard, but her students aren't. Dr. Shin asks what I'd advise. I give her the best career advice I've ever received.

I tell her what my eight year old son told me very early in my teaching career. He said, "Don't try so hard. Just go in and be happy to be there. Have fun. When the students see that you're having fun, they will too. They will want to be there, and they'll like you, so they will want to do well." I have never forgotten that sensible advice, and I've come back to it time and time again. I explain to my North Carolinan friend that it's really that simple: We need to reframe our own thinking and create a new reality. The tension in her furrowed brow starts to release, and she smiles.

Dr. Shin appreciates the wisdom of this insightful eight year old, perhaps because its a very Buddhist approach to thought, something innate in Kael and apparent from a very young age. Dr. Shin also advices the young woman to upgrade, to stimulate her mind and reclaim her good energy. She seems keen to take his advice.

I ask Dr. Shin to please honour me by letting me pay for dinner, since he has been such a lovely tour guide. He agrees, but says that he must pay when he takes Rob and me for lunch next week. When dinner is over, we scoot next door for a peek at the restaurant owner's western style grocery store where patrons can find anything from cheddar cheese to pork and beans to Indian currys. I cotton on to the notion that Dr. Shin is trying to pay me back immediately through the purchase of a western treat, but I manage to skirt the issue nicely. Lunch next week is more than enough.

It turns out the clerk is from Winnipeg. His mother worked at the bank at the end of our street, and they used to always listen to the radio station at which I was employed. I can't wait to tell my former co-worker, Roger Currie, that someone was asking about him in Gwangju! We are terrifically amused, and agree to continue our conversation, soonest.

I stumble into the apartment at 8:15 and immediately try to connect with SharaLee. We were to have met for coffee in the afternoon, but I couldn't seem to figure out how to ring her to let her know of the delay. We end up spending the next two hours drinking coffee, eating chewistys and honey glutinous rice sticks (yum!) and solving the world's ills.

When I finally fall into bed at one a.m., I give thanks for having had such a productive and fun-filled day.