Here is a list of the questions my elementary students asked me on my first day of class.
What's your favorite type of jewelry?
What's the name of your grandfather?
What's your job?
Which do you love more? USA or Korea?
Do you know Mickey Mouse?
How old are you?
Do you have a girlfriend?
Can you dance?
Do you eat Kimchi?
Do you like 'Gangnam Style'?
What's your favorite kind of hat?
What's your favorite jacket?
Do you like shark fin soup?
Why do Americans have blue eyes?
Are you attractive?
Do you think (points to co-teacher) she is beautiful?
Can you tumble in the water?
Can you drive a car?
Do you know Obama?
Are you famous in America?
Are you rich?
Is America bigger than Korea?
What's your favorite letter of the alphabet?
Who created English?
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Dating in Korea
Dating in Korea as a foreigner is not what you think. I've been in Korea for less than a month now, and many of my American friends have tried to convince me to date a Korean girl. They make is sound so easy, which is funny because they're not here, so they couldn't know. I'll tell you what I know. Here are the two main reasons why dating in Korea as an American is harder than dating in America.
1. The Language Barrier. I've known people to get over this barrier, but it's not a compromise everybody is capable of making. Some people might be fine with speaking broken English for the rest of their lives, but I'm not. Although, it does seem preferable to becoming bilingual as an adult. I suppose if I were truly in love, that would be a small price to pay.
2. Citizenship. Possibly the biggest question to consider here is: If you marry someone of a different nationality, do they become a citizen of your country, or do you become a citizen of yours?
If I were living in a poor country, perhaps a woman would want to marry me and become an American. But that's not the case here. I actually moved here from America to have a better life. Also, Koreans do not want to live anywhere else permanently. I have met Americans and Canadians who have married Koreans and plan to live the rest of their lives in Korea.
1. The Language Barrier. I've known people to get over this barrier, but it's not a compromise everybody is capable of making. Some people might be fine with speaking broken English for the rest of their lives, but I'm not. Although, it does seem preferable to becoming bilingual as an adult. I suppose if I were truly in love, that would be a small price to pay.
2. Citizenship. Possibly the biggest question to consider here is: If you marry someone of a different nationality, do they become a citizen of your country, or do you become a citizen of yours?
If I were living in a poor country, perhaps a woman would want to marry me and become an American. But that's not the case here. I actually moved here from America to have a better life. Also, Koreans do not want to live anywhere else permanently. I have met Americans and Canadians who have married Koreans and plan to live the rest of their lives in Korea.
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Korean Questions
One aspect of Korean culture that can be shocking to foreigners is asking personal questions. As a Native English Teacher at an elementary school, I have been asked several personal questions by the students on my first day. These questions include...
How old are you?
How tall are you?
How much do you weigh?
Are you married?
Which do you love more, your home country or Korea?
What are the names of your grandparents?
And it's not just the children getting personal. Unlike American women, Korean women will proudly announce their real age even if they are not asked. Why? Because the social hierarchy determines how you address people who are older or younger than you.
How old are you?
How tall are you?
How much do you weigh?
Are you married?
Which do you love more, your home country or Korea?
What are the names of your grandparents?
And it's not just the children getting personal. Unlike American women, Korean women will proudly announce their real age even if they are not asked. Why? Because the social hierarchy determines how you address people who are older or younger than you.
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Communal Living in Korea
Korean culture does not promote individualism. This is evident in the country's mission statement: "To live and work for the benefit of all mankind." Koreans do everything together. When out at a restaurant nobody orders their own meal from their own menu. Everybody shares the same food. Everybody pours drinks for each other.
This past Friday, March 4th was my co-teacher's birthday. Another teacher brought strawberry cake to celebrate with after lunch. There were five teachers and two slices of cake. Everybody ate the same piece at the same time with chopsticks.
At schools in Korea it is common practice for teachers and students to brush their teeth after lunch. During my first year in Korea, I never participated in this ritual. But this year I have decided to embrace the local culture more. In my teachers' office there is a sink. I brought my toothbrush and toothpaste to school on my second day, and I brushed my teeth with the other teachers at our sink after lunch. It was a little thing, but it did make me feel like one of them.
If you're a foreigner, how do you act like a local?
This past Friday, March 4th was my co-teacher's birthday. Another teacher brought strawberry cake to celebrate with after lunch. There were five teachers and two slices of cake. Everybody ate the same piece at the same time with chopsticks.
At schools in Korea it is common practice for teachers and students to brush their teeth after lunch. During my first year in Korea, I never participated in this ritual. But this year I have decided to embrace the local culture more. In my teachers' office there is a sink. I brought my toothbrush and toothpaste to school on my second day, and I brushed my teeth with the other teachers at our sink after lunch. It was a little thing, but it did make me feel like one of them.
If you're a foreigner, how do you act like a local?
Friday, March 4, 2016
Immigration
After being accepted by EPIK to teach English in South Korea, an agency in Canada called Orange Travel booked my flights and accommodation. The original itinerary was to have me and another teacher spend the night at the Grand Hyatt across the street from the Incheon Airport.
I received a call from my agent later that week. She informed me that due to Korea's immigration laws, I was not permitted to leave the airport since Seoul was not my final destination. So the new plan was for us to stay at the hotel inside the airport.
When I arrived, for some reason I followed my fellow foreigners through immigration. After entering the terminal, I showed my itinerary to the woman at the information booth. She said I can't stay at this hotel because it's located before immigration and it's illegal to go back through. But I was also told that it was illegal for me to leave, which left me with one option: to sleep on a chair in the terminal.
It took me 5 hours to resolve my issue. I had to get my luggage, take a taxi to a cheap nearby guesthouse, and transfer my connecting flight from Incheon to Gimpo.
At EPIK Orientation I met the guy who was supposed to be my roommate. I told him it took me 5 hours to get a new hotel. He said it took him 3 hours to find the correct one.
What's the biggest mistake you've made at an airport?
Flight Features
On February 18, 2016 I flew from San Francisco to Seoul on Singapore Air. My one-way ticket was under $500. Despite the extreme turbulence, it was a wonderful experience that I highly recommend.
This was the first plane I've been on that allowed passengers to charge their phones at their seats. The entertainment selection was also the biggest I've seen. There were dozens of current movies, TV shows, and music albums of every genre. I watched The Visit and The Walk. Shortly before we landed I listened to a few tracks from the Foo Fighter's newest album.
The final feature I'd like to mention from this airline is that they served free wine and beer. I had a glass of red with my chicken dinner.
The following morning I flew Korean Air from Seoul to Busan. The one feature that stood out on this flight was one I'd never seen before. When one of the flight attendants came down the aisle taking drink orders, a few passengers were asleep. The flight attendant posted a notice on the seats in front of them. They would eventually wake up to a sign informing them (in Korean, Chinese, Japanese, and English) that they were asleep when orders were taken.
What are other flight features that have impressed you?
This was the first plane I've been on that allowed passengers to charge their phones at their seats. The entertainment selection was also the biggest I've seen. There were dozens of current movies, TV shows, and music albums of every genre. I watched The Visit and The Walk. Shortly before we landed I listened to a few tracks from the Foo Fighter's newest album.
The final feature I'd like to mention from this airline is that they served free wine and beer. I had a glass of red with my chicken dinner.
What are other flight features that have impressed you?
Thursday, October 1, 2015
How to Train Your Elephant
January 23, 2014
I went to the owner of my hostel in Chiang Mai for advice on what to do during my week-long stay, and she highly recommended Woody Elephant Training Camp, which cost 2,400 Baht ($65 USD). After reading the brochure, I asked her to book my reservation.
A van picked every participant up from their hostels and brought us to the training camp, which was about an hour or two away.
The first thing we did upon our arrival was change into the provided shirt and pants since we would be getting wet and dirty. Then we were divided into two teams: The Candy Team and The Poopoo Team.
The Candy Team would be in charge of chopping down sugar cane to feed the elephants, and the other team would--you guessed it--scoop poop.
Our instructor, knowing nobody would volunteer to scoop poop, said that the sugar can fields were full of snakes. Luckily that didn't scare me off, because he was lying.
The elephants, intelligent creatures that they are, were already well-trained. My fellow humans and I needed a lesson in giving commands in order to navigate our elephant ride through the jungle later.
The instructor would say a command word in Thai, and we would write the word phonetically on a piece of paper and attempt to memorize it. He also wrote everybody's first name in Thai with a blue marker on the top of our hands so that he and the other staff members could identify us.
Our first task, before we split into our teams, was to feed the elephants bananas. We would hold out a bunch in our hands, and an elephant would suck it up with its trunk, and bring it to its mouth. Having never been that close to an elephant before, I was surprised by how hairy they are. We tried placing bananas directly into their mouths, but everybody was afraid of being licked by a giant slimy tongue.
While I was distracted, one of the staff grabbed an elephant's trunk and pressed the opening against the side of my neck. It felt like a wet leathery vacuum tube. It's a wild feeling.
Next, I traveled with my team in a van to the sugar cane fields where we chopped down the canes with a machete. After gathering enough food for our elephants, we tasted the sugar cane by placing a small piece in our mouth and sucking on it. I didn't expect to like it so much.
When it came time to ride, everybody was paired up. My partner was a girl from New York. For the first shift, she rode up front. To get on the elephant, you grab his ear, step on its knee, and say the Thai word for up.
The guides walked along side us, taking pictures of us with our phones. They also reminded us of the commands when we forgot.
At the end of the trek, when I was riding up front, the elephants walked into a pond, and the water reached my neck. Despite the intense heat of Thailand, the water was freezing.
After returning to base, we gave the elephants a bath. We stood in shallow water and scrubbed them while they washed themselves by sucking water up their trunk and spraying their backs. Our guides had their fun by aiming the trunks at us like water guns.
We ended the day with a very unique photo-shoot. Two elephants would link their trunks, and everybody took turns sitting in the middle like a swing.
Within a month, all those pictures were on the Woody Elephant Training Camp website for us to download.
If you ever get the chance to visit the beautiful city of Chiang Mai, I highly recommend this experience.
I went to the owner of my hostel in Chiang Mai for advice on what to do during my week-long stay, and she highly recommended Woody Elephant Training Camp, which cost 2,400 Baht ($65 USD). After reading the brochure, I asked her to book my reservation.
A van picked every participant up from their hostels and brought us to the training camp, which was about an hour or two away.
The first thing we did upon our arrival was change into the provided shirt and pants since we would be getting wet and dirty. Then we were divided into two teams: The Candy Team and The Poopoo Team.
The Candy Team would be in charge of chopping down sugar cane to feed the elephants, and the other team would--you guessed it--scoop poop.
Our instructor, knowing nobody would volunteer to scoop poop, said that the sugar can fields were full of snakes. Luckily that didn't scare me off, because he was lying.
The elephants, intelligent creatures that they are, were already well-trained. My fellow humans and I needed a lesson in giving commands in order to navigate our elephant ride through the jungle later.
The instructor would say a command word in Thai, and we would write the word phonetically on a piece of paper and attempt to memorize it. He also wrote everybody's first name in Thai with a blue marker on the top of our hands so that he and the other staff members could identify us.
Our first task, before we split into our teams, was to feed the elephants bananas. We would hold out a bunch in our hands, and an elephant would suck it up with its trunk, and bring it to its mouth. Having never been that close to an elephant before, I was surprised by how hairy they are. We tried placing bananas directly into their mouths, but everybody was afraid of being licked by a giant slimy tongue.
While I was distracted, one of the staff grabbed an elephant's trunk and pressed the opening against the side of my neck. It felt like a wet leathery vacuum tube. It's a wild feeling.
Next, I traveled with my team in a van to the sugar cane fields where we chopped down the canes with a machete. After gathering enough food for our elephants, we tasted the sugar cane by placing a small piece in our mouth and sucking on it. I didn't expect to like it so much.
When it came time to ride, everybody was paired up. My partner was a girl from New York. For the first shift, she rode up front. To get on the elephant, you grab his ear, step on its knee, and say the Thai word for up.
The guides walked along side us, taking pictures of us with our phones. They also reminded us of the commands when we forgot.
At the end of the trek, when I was riding up front, the elephants walked into a pond, and the water reached my neck. Despite the intense heat of Thailand, the water was freezing.
After returning to base, we gave the elephants a bath. We stood in shallow water and scrubbed them while they washed themselves by sucking water up their trunk and spraying their backs. Our guides had their fun by aiming the trunks at us like water guns.
We ended the day with a very unique photo-shoot. Two elephants would link their trunks, and everybody took turns sitting in the middle like a swing.
Within a month, all those pictures were on the Woody Elephant Training Camp website for us to download.
If you ever get the chance to visit the beautiful city of Chiang Mai, I highly recommend this experience.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Tiger Kingdom
January 22, 2014
The woman running my hostel in Chiang Mai, Thailand recommended Tiger Kingdom. According to the brochures, the tigers were wide awake and treated well.
She arranged for a tuk-tuk driver to bring me there and back.
When I arrived at Tiger Kingdom, I waited in line to choose what I wanted to see. I could see the biggest tigers, the medium-sized tigers, or the baby tigers. I wanted to see the big ones, but I was told that because it's the most popular option, the wait could be one to two hours. I chose to see the medium-sized tigers, which cost 420 Baht ($11 USD). My wait time was only 30 minutes.
There were signs posted everywhere, stating explicitly that the tigers were not drugged. I was informed that the reason they weren't active is because tigers rest during the day. There were also signs explaining how to and not to approach and touch the tigers. These signs made me feel like this was a legitimate place that I could trust. It seemed to be like any other zoo, aside from the lack of other animals.
Because you're not allowed to enter the enclosure alone, I was paired up with a guy from France who was also alone. Then another guy was paired up with us, who happened to also be from France.
We took pictures of each other posing with four different tigers. I laid my head on the belly of one when he decided to yawn and stretch. My startled expression was captured in a photo.
I was so excited to show everybody the photos of me petting a real live tiger. The reaction of my friends and family, however, filled me with regret. I was basically accused of promoting the captivity and drugging of innocent wild animals. I felt so guilty and ashamed that I deleted the pictures from Facebook.
If you are planning to visit Thailand, and are interested in seeing wildlife, be sure to do as much research as possible before giving your money to anyone. I, for the record, believe that wild animals like tigers deserve to be protected and unharmed.
The woman running my hostel in Chiang Mai, Thailand recommended Tiger Kingdom. According to the brochures, the tigers were wide awake and treated well.
She arranged for a tuk-tuk driver to bring me there and back.
When I arrived at Tiger Kingdom, I waited in line to choose what I wanted to see. I could see the biggest tigers, the medium-sized tigers, or the baby tigers. I wanted to see the big ones, but I was told that because it's the most popular option, the wait could be one to two hours. I chose to see the medium-sized tigers, which cost 420 Baht ($11 USD). My wait time was only 30 minutes.
There were signs posted everywhere, stating explicitly that the tigers were not drugged. I was informed that the reason they weren't active is because tigers rest during the day. There were also signs explaining how to and not to approach and touch the tigers. These signs made me feel like this was a legitimate place that I could trust. It seemed to be like any other zoo, aside from the lack of other animals.
Because you're not allowed to enter the enclosure alone, I was paired up with a guy from France who was also alone. Then another guy was paired up with us, who happened to also be from France.
We took pictures of each other posing with four different tigers. I laid my head on the belly of one when he decided to yawn and stretch. My startled expression was captured in a photo.
I was so excited to show everybody the photos of me petting a real live tiger. The reaction of my friends and family, however, filled me with regret. I was basically accused of promoting the captivity and drugging of innocent wild animals. I felt so guilty and ashamed that I deleted the pictures from Facebook.
If you are planning to visit Thailand, and are interested in seeing wildlife, be sure to do as much research as possible before giving your money to anyone. I, for the record, believe that wild animals like tigers deserve to be protected and unharmed.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Hotels in Vietnam
I booked a real hotel in Ho Chi Minh as opposed to a hostel for three reasons. I was scheduled to arrive after midnight, and unlike hostels, hotels usually have a 24/7 reception desk. I planned on only staying two nights, which meant I didn't need to be cheap. For the following 12 days I would be staying in dorms, so I wanted to treat myself to a nice private room.
After getting my visa, I exited the airport. After what happened to me in Thailand, I promised myself I wouldn't get scammed again. And that's the first thing that happened to me in Vietnam.
A taxi driver approached me and asked where I was going, so I showed him the map and address on my hotel itinerary. He said his rate for that distance was $10, which seemed reasonable. His taxi was a black van, which seemed suspicious, but I didn't see any "normal" cabs.
In order to leave the parking lot, we had to go through a toll bridge, which cost $10. He refused to take me any further if I didn't pay, so my taxi ride cost a total of $20. To give you a perspective of how big of a rip-off this was, my 6 hour bus ride from Vietnam to Cambodia cost me $11.
When I arrived at my hotel, it was closed. I knocked on the door, and a woman answered. She said there were no rooms available. I said I booked my room for February 15th instead of the 14th because I arrived after midnight. She said I should have booked it for the 14th because the earliest check-in time is 8 a.m.
What was I supposed to do for 7 hours?
I asked if I could sleep on the couch in the lobby. She said that's where she sleeps.
Her solution was to have another employee escort me down the road to another hotel. That hotel was more expensive and didn't have hot water.
While eating Pho for the millionth time at the same restaurant down the road from my hotel, I overheard a woman telling her server about getting robbed. Curious, I sat down with her and asked to hear her story. She was from Israel and in her early thirties. She said she left all her things locked in her private single hotel room, and when she returned after a long day of sightseeing, all her cash was gone. She now had to travel to the Israeli Embassy, which was far north of us.
I loved Vietnam, and I would go back. But I recommend doing a lot of research on your hotel and the local scams before going to Vietnam. And, if possible, try to arrive during the day.
After getting my visa, I exited the airport. After what happened to me in Thailand, I promised myself I wouldn't get scammed again. And that's the first thing that happened to me in Vietnam.
A taxi driver approached me and asked where I was going, so I showed him the map and address on my hotel itinerary. He said his rate for that distance was $10, which seemed reasonable. His taxi was a black van, which seemed suspicious, but I didn't see any "normal" cabs.
In order to leave the parking lot, we had to go through a toll bridge, which cost $10. He refused to take me any further if I didn't pay, so my taxi ride cost a total of $20. To give you a perspective of how big of a rip-off this was, my 6 hour bus ride from Vietnam to Cambodia cost me $11.
When I arrived at my hotel, it was closed. I knocked on the door, and a woman answered. She said there were no rooms available. I said I booked my room for February 15th instead of the 14th because I arrived after midnight. She said I should have booked it for the 14th because the earliest check-in time is 8 a.m.
What was I supposed to do for 7 hours?
I asked if I could sleep on the couch in the lobby. She said that's where she sleeps.
Her solution was to have another employee escort me down the road to another hotel. That hotel was more expensive and didn't have hot water.
While eating Pho for the millionth time at the same restaurant down the road from my hotel, I overheard a woman telling her server about getting robbed. Curious, I sat down with her and asked to hear her story. She was from Israel and in her early thirties. She said she left all her things locked in her private single hotel room, and when she returned after a long day of sightseeing, all her cash was gone. She now had to travel to the Israeli Embassy, which was far north of us.
I loved Vietnam, and I would go back. But I recommend doing a lot of research on your hotel and the local scams before going to Vietnam. And, if possible, try to arrive during the day.
Friday, September 11, 2015
Spring Break 2014
My first vacation as a teacher in Korea was for a week in August. I spent that time on Jeju Island, which I highly recommend. If you go, you'll see why it is called the Hawaii of Korea.
My second vacation was for 10 days in January, which I spent in Thailand. I also highly recommend visiting there.
Although the contract clearly stated that there was only two vacation periods, summer and winter, I made the mistake of booking myself another vacation when my co-teacher told me that the final two weeks of February is Spring Break.
I booked a flight to Ho Chi Minh, and my return flight from Siem Reap. My vacation consisted of two days in Vietnam and twelve days in Cambodia.
The day before my flight, my co-teacher said, "You know that Spring Break is just for the students, right?"
I answered him with the details of my non-refundable flights.
According to my contract, even though there were no classes for those two weeks, I had to show up to school anyway. Not to work. Just to be present.
My co-teacher said the vice principal would have to give me permission.
I assumed we would go to the VP together so he could translate since the VP didn't know any English. But my co-teacher said he was too afraid to speak to the VP because he's so scary. This didn't make the prospect of me speaking to him alone any less intimidating.
The next day I went into the vice principal's office. I explained my side of the story and then left. I only spoke English. He only responded, very confused, in Korean. I didn't understand him. He didn't understand me.
When I returned after the break, my co-teacher said the VP was very upset that I didn't show up to "work" for two weeks. He covered for me by lying that I was severely ill.
This miscommunication could have resulted in me paying hundreds of dollars to cancel my flights and accommodations. It could have resulted in me getting fired. Instead, I had an amazing vacation, and just had to play along with my co-teacher's story.
My second vacation was for 10 days in January, which I spent in Thailand. I also highly recommend visiting there.
Although the contract clearly stated that there was only two vacation periods, summer and winter, I made the mistake of booking myself another vacation when my co-teacher told me that the final two weeks of February is Spring Break.
I booked a flight to Ho Chi Minh, and my return flight from Siem Reap. My vacation consisted of two days in Vietnam and twelve days in Cambodia.
The day before my flight, my co-teacher said, "You know that Spring Break is just for the students, right?"
I answered him with the details of my non-refundable flights.
According to my contract, even though there were no classes for those two weeks, I had to show up to school anyway. Not to work. Just to be present.
My co-teacher said the vice principal would have to give me permission.
I assumed we would go to the VP together so he could translate since the VP didn't know any English. But my co-teacher said he was too afraid to speak to the VP because he's so scary. This didn't make the prospect of me speaking to him alone any less intimidating.
The next day I went into the vice principal's office. I explained my side of the story and then left. I only spoke English. He only responded, very confused, in Korean. I didn't understand him. He didn't understand me.
When I returned after the break, my co-teacher said the VP was very upset that I didn't show up to "work" for two weeks. He covered for me by lying that I was severely ill.
This miscommunication could have resulted in me paying hundreds of dollars to cancel my flights and accommodations. It could have resulted in me getting fired. Instead, I had an amazing vacation, and just had to play along with my co-teacher's story.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Naked Korea
During my first trip to Seoul, I spent the night at a 찜질방 (Korean sauna) in Gangnam--yes, as in the song "Gangnam Style"--with the other American teacher from my hagwon (private school). He had been to one of these before, but it was all new to me.
We paid for our one-night stay at the front desk, which was 5,000 Won. Then we were given a small locker for our shoes. At the end of the hallway was a bigger room with taller lockers for our clothes and backpacks. ALL of our clothes. The adjoining room was what you might call a bath house. Shower heads lined the left wall. There were two hot tubs in the middle of the room, and a small cold pool in the back. Oh, and all the men were naked. But not just men--males of all ages.
This was a prime example of culture shock. I had entered a world where nudity was the norm. Nobody paid any attention to anybody else. I felt invisible.
I sat in one of the hot tubs with my American friend and a few Korean men. Once the shock washed away, it was quite relaxing.
The sleeping situation, however, was awful.
Everybody slept in one room with a ceiling that was about 4 feet high, so the average person couldn't even stand up. Everybody slept on a plastic mat with a single thin sheet and a plastic cube for a pillow. There was no air-conditioning or fans, so it was very hot and stuffy. I didn't sleep.
My second experience with this was in a different district of Seoul a few months later. I was traveling across the country by myself. When I checked in, it was so late at night that the sauna room was almost completely vacant. That was nice, but again the sleeping situation was awful. This time the beds were made of marble. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw men sleeping on them. There were no blankets or pillows, so I just had to curl up with a towel on the wooden floor against a corner of the room. Once again, I didn't sleep.
Please feel free to share your experience in the comment section below.
Thanks for reading, and safe travels!
I sat in one of the hot tubs with my American friend and a few Korean men. Once the shock washed away, it was quite relaxing.
The sleeping situation, however, was awful.
Everybody slept in one room with a ceiling that was about 4 feet high, so the average person couldn't even stand up. Everybody slept on a plastic mat with a single thin sheet and a plastic cube for a pillow. There was no air-conditioning or fans, so it was very hot and stuffy. I didn't sleep.
My second experience with this was in a different district of Seoul a few months later. I was traveling across the country by myself. When I checked in, it was so late at night that the sauna room was almost completely vacant. That was nice, but again the sleeping situation was awful. This time the beds were made of marble. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw men sleeping on them. There were no blankets or pillows, so I just had to curl up with a towel on the wooden floor against a corner of the room. Once again, I didn't sleep.
Please feel free to share your experience in the comment section below.
Thanks for reading, and safe travels!
Monday, September 7, 2015
TMI ROK
One aspect of Korean culture that may surprise many Americans is how open they are about sharing personal information. The main reason for this is that it clashes with our image of Asian society, where people bow to each other, revere the elderly, and have politeness built into their language.
Bowing seems like a greeting specially reserved for royalty, but it's how everybody is greeted in South Korea. Unlike western culture, in Korea, being older is like being of a higher rank. In the US, "yo" is urban slag for hello. In Korea, "yo" is added to the end of certain words to make them formal. For example, "Anyang" is a casual hello, but "Anyanghaseyo" is a formal hello.
In America, we reserve "I love you" for only family, close friends, and spouses. In Korea, it is thrown around very loosely. My students said it to me. Random people passing me on the street said it to me. I never felt comfortable saying back to anyone due to its inherent romantic connotation. After saying goodbye to one of my classes on my last day, a boy stood up and said, "I love you," then to recover from an awkward pause, added "But not in a gay way."
Some Americans take astrology very seriously. In Korea, rather than believe your personality is determined by when you were born, they believe it is determined by your blood type. "What is your blood type" is a common question to ask when getting to know someone, whether it be a friend, co-worker, or date.
One of the first things you must do in Korea is get a physical. After my examination, I was informed that I would get the results later. For some reason my co-teacher decided to return to the hospital without me and retrieve my medical reports. Instead of giving me an envelope that had been sealed for doctor-patient confidentiality, he simply walked into our classroom and said, "You have lung disease." It should also be noted that he had a habit of making things dramatic.
Finally, in the US it would be rude to publicly announce your specific bathroom needs. We simply say, "I need to use the restroom."
In my classroom a girl once asked to use the toilet. I told her to hurry, as class was about to begin. She then squatted, made grunting sounds, and drew a pile of poop on the white board. Another time a boy in my class asked me co-teacher if he could be excused in Korean. In English, my co-teacher asked him "How big?" The student held his hands two feet apart like he was describing the size of the fish he caught. Confused, I asked "How big is what?" I immediately regretted my question. He said, "Feces."
Fire Drill
While public schools in South Korea differ in many ways from public schools in the US, one thing they have in common is that they both have fire drills. I can't speak for all public high schools in Korea, but the way mine conducted its fire drill was rather unorthodox.
I was sitting in my classroom one afternoon with my co-teacher, grading exams, when the fire alarm went off. Students stampeded out of their classrooms and down the hallway in panicked chaos. There was some order, however, after exiting the building and forming single-file lines on the soccer field in front of the school.
During the student stampede, I peered out of my classroom window to see thick clouds of smoke pouring out of another window at the far end of the building. Suddenly an ambulance and fire truck showed up on the scene.
Out of all my years as a student, a fire drill had never been anything more than a drill.
And as it turned out, this was also just a drill. A teacher explained to me that the best way to practice for a real fire is to make the fake one feel as real as possible. As soon as my heart beat returned to a normal pace, I agreed.
To take it a step further, the fire-fighters demonstrated how to use a fire extinguisher, and even let some students try.
It was very cool.
I was sitting in my classroom one afternoon with my co-teacher, grading exams, when the fire alarm went off. Students stampeded out of their classrooms and down the hallway in panicked chaos. There was some order, however, after exiting the building and forming single-file lines on the soccer field in front of the school.
During the student stampede, I peered out of my classroom window to see thick clouds of smoke pouring out of another window at the far end of the building. Suddenly an ambulance and fire truck showed up on the scene.
Out of all my years as a student, a fire drill had never been anything more than a drill.
And as it turned out, this was also just a drill. A teacher explained to me that the best way to practice for a real fire is to make the fake one feel as real as possible. As soon as my heart beat returned to a normal pace, I agreed.
To take it a step further, the fire-fighters demonstrated how to use a fire extinguisher, and even let some students try.
It was very cool.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
8 Days in Siem Reap, Cambodia
Friday February 21, 2014
Day 1
Breakfast = $2.25
Lunch = $1
Free Transport to Hostel
Siem Reap Hostel = $38
Dinner = $5
Day 2
Temple Pass for 3 Days = $40
Angkor Wat
Breakfast = $4.50
Water = 50 cents
Tuk-Tuk = $5
Bayon
Ta Prohm
Lunch = $3.75
Pub Street
Dinner = $2.50
Night Market
Day 3
Breakfast buffet = $2
Pad Thai = $3.50
Banana Nutella Pancake = $1
Smoothie = $1.25
Yellow Noodles = $3.50
Movie Night at Hostel: Tomb Raider
Day 4
Breakfast buffet = $2
Stilted Village = $18
Yellow Noodles
Banana Pancake
Smoothie
Snake = 75 cents
Tarantula = 75 cents
Day 5
Breakfast buffet = $2
Carpool to Temple = $15
Beng Mealea = $5
Pho = $2
Water = 25 cents
Banana Pancake = $1
Watermelon Juice = $1
Fried Noodles = $1
Day 6
Breakfast buffet = $2
Laundry = $2
Fried Noodles = $1
Temples
Tuk-Tuk = $15
Banana Pancake = $1
Guava Smoothie = $1
Water = 25 cents
Day 7
Breakfast buffet = $2
Banteay Srei
Tuk-Tuk = $10
Yellow Noodles
Smoothie
Banana Pancake
Day 8
Breakfast buffet = $2
Lunch = $5
Dinner = $3.50
Tuk-Tuk to Airport = $6
Day 1
Breakfast = $2.25
Lunch = $1
Free Transport to Hostel
Siem Reap Hostel = $38
Dinner = $5
Day 2
Temple Pass for 3 Days = $40
Angkor Wat
Breakfast = $4.50
Water = 50 cents
Tuk-Tuk = $5
Bayon
Ta Prohm
Lunch = $3.75
Pub Street
Dinner = $2.50
Night Market
Day 3
Breakfast buffet = $2
Pad Thai = $3.50
Banana Nutella Pancake = $1
Smoothie = $1.25
Yellow Noodles = $3.50
Movie Night at Hostel: Tomb Raider
Day 4
Breakfast buffet = $2
Stilted Village = $18
Yellow Noodles
Banana Pancake
Smoothie
Snake = 75 cents
Tarantula = 75 cents
Day 5
Breakfast buffet = $2
Carpool to Temple = $15
Beng Mealea = $5
Pho = $2
Water = 25 cents
Banana Pancake = $1
Watermelon Juice = $1
Fried Noodles = $1
Day 6
Breakfast buffet = $2
Laundry = $2
Fried Noodles = $1
Temples
Tuk-Tuk = $15
Banana Pancake = $1
Guava Smoothie = $1
Water = 25 cents
Day 7
Breakfast buffet = $2
Banteay Srei
Tuk-Tuk = $10
Yellow Noodles
Smoothie
Banana Pancake
Day 8
Breakfast buffet = $2
Lunch = $5
Dinner = $3.50
Tuk-Tuk to Airport = $6
4 Days in the Capitol of Cambodia
Phnom Penh (February 17, 2014)
Day 1
Visa = $25
Tuk-Tuk ride to Hostel = $4
Lunch = $1
Dinner = $1
Day 2
Breakfast = $2.25
Lunch = $1
2 water bottles = 54 cents
Independence Monument
Mekong River
Watermelon Juice = $2.25
Day 3
Breakfast = $2.25
Genocide Museum = $2
Killing Fields = $6
Tuk-Tuk = $6
Lunch = $5.50
Dinner = $2
Day 4
Breakfast = $4
Laundry = $4
Bus Ticket to Siem Reap = $8
Frozen Yogurt = $2.25
2 water bottles = 52 cents
Milkshake = $2.25
Two Days in Ho Chi Minh
Day 1
Visa = $45
Taxi to Hotel = $35 (Rip Off!)
LaFelix Hotel = $30
Breakfast = $2.50
Ben Than Market
People's Court
Saigon River
Lunch = 67 Dong
Dinner = 97 Dong
Day 2
Free Breakfast at Bich Hotel
Sunday Morning Mass at Notre Dame Basilica
Reunification Palace
Guava Smoothie = 20 Dong
Lunch = 63 Dong
Jackfruit Smoothie = 20 Dong
Booked Bus to Phnom Penh = $11
Dinner = 91 Dong
Visa = $45
Taxi to Hotel = $35 (Rip Off!)
LaFelix Hotel = $30
Breakfast = $2.50
Ben Than Market
People's Court
Saigon River
Lunch = 67 Dong
Dinner = 97 Dong
Day 2
Free Breakfast at Bich Hotel
Sunday Morning Mass at Notre Dame Basilica
Reunification Palace
Guava Smoothie = 20 Dong
Lunch = 63 Dong
Jackfruit Smoothie = 20 Dong
Booked Bus to Phnom Penh = $11
Dinner = 91 Dong
A Week in Thailand
Flight from Seoul with an overnight layover in Shanghai.
Bangkok
Day 1 (01/17/14)
Kuan San Road
Day 2 (01/18/14)
Visiting Temples via Tuk-Tuk
Choa Phraya River Boat Tour
Chiang Mai
Day 1 (01/19/14)
Visiting Temples on Foot
Night Market
Day 2 (01/20/14)
Thai Cooking Class = 700 Baht
Day 3 (01/21/14)
Zip-lining
Day 4 (01/22/14)
Tiger Kingdom = 420 Baht
Day 5 (01/23/14)
Woody Elephant Training Camp = 2,400 Baht
Day 6 (01/24/14)
free day to relax
Day 7 (01/25/14)
Flight to Seoul with an overnight layover in Shanghai.
Bangkok
Day 1 (01/17/14)
Kuan San Road
Day 2 (01/18/14)
Visiting Temples via Tuk-Tuk
Choa Phraya River Boat Tour
Chiang Mai
Day 1 (01/19/14)
Visiting Temples on Foot
Night Market
Day 2 (01/20/14)
Thai Cooking Class = 700 Baht
Day 3 (01/21/14)
Zip-lining
Day 4 (01/22/14)
Tiger Kingdom = 420 Baht
Day 5 (01/23/14)
Woody Elephant Training Camp = 2,400 Baht
Day 6 (01/24/14)
free day to relax
Day 7 (01/25/14)
Flight to Seoul with an overnight layover in Shanghai.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Small World
Sunday February 16, 2014
I walked from my hotel in Ho Chi Minh to the Notre Dam Basilica to catch the morning church service. I underestimated how long it would take to walk there, so I was late, but I managed to squeeze in a pew before the sermon ended. I was surprised to discover that the sermon was delivered entirely in English with no Vietnamese accent. I was so curious where he was from, so I found him after the service and introduced myself. He said he was from Missouri. I told him I was from Louisiana. He was the youth pastor at Louisiana Tech in 1986 and 1987. I was born in Baton Rouge in 1988.
Small world.
Sunday November 9, 2014
I was at an Irish Pub in the financial district of NYC. The bartender asked me where I'm from. I said Louisiana. He asked which city. I assumed most people wouldn't know Slidell, so I just said it's an hour from New Orleans. "Not Slidell?" he asked. "Yes," I said, amazed. "How did you know?"
The bartender said he has been to New Orleans several times. "For Mardi Gras?" I asked.
He has never been to Mardi Gras. He's only been to NOLA for football games and helping Hurricane Katrina victims. My two-story house flooded with four feet of water in Katrina.
Small world.
Tuesday November 11, 2014
I was sitting at breakfast in my hostel in NYC, wearing my jacket with English Teacher written in Korean on the back. There was a girl at the table behind me. She noticed the Korean on my back and I noticed the Korean on her travel guide book. After exchanging a few glances, I asked if she was Korean. She was born in Chungcheongnamdo, the same province in Korea where I taught English. We're both twenty-six years old. She currently lives in Seoul. I'll be returning to Korea this March.
Small world.
Wednesday November 12, 2014
I took a bus from NYC to DC. While passing through New Jersey, I glanced out my window to see a big-rig riding along side us. Written on the cab of the delivery truck was "Hammond, LA," where I've lived since I started attending SLU in August 2007.
Small world.
I walked from my hotel in Ho Chi Minh to the Notre Dam Basilica to catch the morning church service. I underestimated how long it would take to walk there, so I was late, but I managed to squeeze in a pew before the sermon ended. I was surprised to discover that the sermon was delivered entirely in English with no Vietnamese accent. I was so curious where he was from, so I found him after the service and introduced myself. He said he was from Missouri. I told him I was from Louisiana. He was the youth pastor at Louisiana Tech in 1986 and 1987. I was born in Baton Rouge in 1988.
Small world.
Sunday November 9, 2014
I was at an Irish Pub in the financial district of NYC. The bartender asked me where I'm from. I said Louisiana. He asked which city. I assumed most people wouldn't know Slidell, so I just said it's an hour from New Orleans. "Not Slidell?" he asked. "Yes," I said, amazed. "How did you know?"
The bartender said he has been to New Orleans several times. "For Mardi Gras?" I asked.
He has never been to Mardi Gras. He's only been to NOLA for football games and helping Hurricane Katrina victims. My two-story house flooded with four feet of water in Katrina.
Small world.
Tuesday November 11, 2014
I was sitting at breakfast in my hostel in NYC, wearing my jacket with English Teacher written in Korean on the back. There was a girl at the table behind me. She noticed the Korean on my back and I noticed the Korean on her travel guide book. After exchanging a few glances, I asked if she was Korean. She was born in Chungcheongnamdo, the same province in Korea where I taught English. We're both twenty-six years old. She currently lives in Seoul. I'll be returning to Korea this March.
Small world.
Wednesday November 12, 2014
I took a bus from NYC to DC. While passing through New Jersey, I glanced out my window to see a big-rig riding along side us. Written on the cab of the delivery truck was "Hammond, LA," where I've lived since I started attending SLU in August 2007.
Small world.
Bizarre, Bazaar
There's a big courtyard in the beautiful Thai city of Chiang Mai. My first day there, a market was assembled where locals sold food and souvenirs. My last day there was a classic car show. This evening there was nothing. After a long day, I decided to just sit on a bench and watch life go by. I watched families having picnics. I watched an old man ride around on a bicycle with a white board that read "Free International Hugs." I watched tourists sneak snapshots of monks in their traditional orange robes.
A guy with naturally brown curly hair that had been dyed pink down the middle introduced himself and took a seat next to me. He was British and looked to be in his late twenties. I told him I was an American on vacation from teaching ESL in South Korea. He said he was here to teach fire-breathing at circus school. Alright, you win, guy with a way more unusual and specific job.
A Chinese girl approached us, cell phone in hand, and asked if she could take a picture of the man with pink hair. And since he didn't do that to himself to avoid attention, he obliged her. Then she wanted a picture of the two of us together like the old friends I guess we appeared to be. I put my arm around him and smiled. Before walking away, she mentioned that she'd be dancing at one of the clubs down town tonight if we were interested in joining. We said maybe, but meant no.
When she was a safe distance away, Pink informed me that he was on too many drugs to do something that required coordination, like dancing. He asked if I could tell he was on something. "No," I said. "Good," he said.
It was then that we were met by a dirty hippie. He was a carpenter from southern France, white with dreads. Either anything and everything normally makes him laugh hysterically, or he was high. He said he saves money on accommodations when traveling by sleeping in a hammock every night. "What if there's bad weather?" I asked. "What about animals and bugs? What if somebody tries to rob you?" He simply said he wasn't worried about it. After all, he's got a mosquito net and sleeps with his arms and legs wrapped around his luggage.
Hammock met up with his friends and took off. Pink had to go shopping and invited me to tag along. He told me the story of how he had sex with a girl in Laos who revealed that she was a prostitute after the act. "I should've known," he said. To paraphrase his side of the story: She invited him into her room to watch a movie, one thing led to another, and he had to pay for her services. That was as much detail as he was willing to divulge. Fine by me.
After watching Pink haggle a poor old man nearly to tears for an e-cig, I decided to go my own way.
I saw a blue sign that read Night Bazaar, and followed the arrow. I followed sign after sign, arrow after arrow until I found myself on a street lined with nothing but bars. I walked to the end of the street and looked left and right, hoping to see a bazaar. There was nothing to see, so I walked back up the street. Like sirens, ladies stand out in front of their bars and try to lure men inside.
As hard as I tried to resist the temptation, I was lured. I took a seat. This bar wasn't too popular. It was just me and about five women. You can see the appeal.
The woman who called to me was the only one who really spoke English well. She introduced herself and the other ladies. I wasn't in the mood for a drink, so I just took a water.
One of the ladies positioned herself closer to me and lavished me with attention, sensually moving her hands and hips. I knew I was just a customer, but I allowed her to continue her sales pitch for a while.
The bartender asked, "You like her?"
"Yes," I said. "She's very nice." Why do you ask?
The bartender gave me the price for her special services. This sounds like the beginning of a story that will later be told with "one thing led to another" censoring the middle, and ending with an itchy souvenir. I feel like I've heard a similar story where the male lead shouldn't known better.
"Sorry. I don't have any money."
"No money, no honey."
No problem.
A guy with naturally brown curly hair that had been dyed pink down the middle introduced himself and took a seat next to me. He was British and looked to be in his late twenties. I told him I was an American on vacation from teaching ESL in South Korea. He said he was here to teach fire-breathing at circus school. Alright, you win, guy with a way more unusual and specific job.
A Chinese girl approached us, cell phone in hand, and asked if she could take a picture of the man with pink hair. And since he didn't do that to himself to avoid attention, he obliged her. Then she wanted a picture of the two of us together like the old friends I guess we appeared to be. I put my arm around him and smiled. Before walking away, she mentioned that she'd be dancing at one of the clubs down town tonight if we were interested in joining. We said maybe, but meant no.
When she was a safe distance away, Pink informed me that he was on too many drugs to do something that required coordination, like dancing. He asked if I could tell he was on something. "No," I said. "Good," he said.
It was then that we were met by a dirty hippie. He was a carpenter from southern France, white with dreads. Either anything and everything normally makes him laugh hysterically, or he was high. He said he saves money on accommodations when traveling by sleeping in a hammock every night. "What if there's bad weather?" I asked. "What about animals and bugs? What if somebody tries to rob you?" He simply said he wasn't worried about it. After all, he's got a mosquito net and sleeps with his arms and legs wrapped around his luggage.
Hammock met up with his friends and took off. Pink had to go shopping and invited me to tag along. He told me the story of how he had sex with a girl in Laos who revealed that she was a prostitute after the act. "I should've known," he said. To paraphrase his side of the story: She invited him into her room to watch a movie, one thing led to another, and he had to pay for her services. That was as much detail as he was willing to divulge. Fine by me.
After watching Pink haggle a poor old man nearly to tears for an e-cig, I decided to go my own way.
I saw a blue sign that read Night Bazaar, and followed the arrow. I followed sign after sign, arrow after arrow until I found myself on a street lined with nothing but bars. I walked to the end of the street and looked left and right, hoping to see a bazaar. There was nothing to see, so I walked back up the street. Like sirens, ladies stand out in front of their bars and try to lure men inside.
As hard as I tried to resist the temptation, I was lured. I took a seat. This bar wasn't too popular. It was just me and about five women. You can see the appeal.
The woman who called to me was the only one who really spoke English well. She introduced herself and the other ladies. I wasn't in the mood for a drink, so I just took a water.
One of the ladies positioned herself closer to me and lavished me with attention, sensually moving her hands and hips. I knew I was just a customer, but I allowed her to continue her sales pitch for a while.
The bartender asked, "You like her?"
"Yes," I said. "She's very nice." Why do you ask?
The bartender gave me the price for her special services. This sounds like the beginning of a story that will later be told with "one thing led to another" censoring the middle, and ending with an itchy souvenir. I feel like I've heard a similar story where the male lead shouldn't known better.
"Sorry. I don't have any money."
"No money, no honey."
No problem.
THE END
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Quiet on the Bus
I was taking a bus into a big city to go shopping one afternoon when I was living in Korea. I was traveling with a fellow ESL teacher from Wales. She and I taught in a small town where foreigners were rarely seen. So when we saw a big group of Germans board the bus, we were excited to talk to them. We were headed to Daejeon, while they were headed to Seoul for a martial arts tournament. Other than being foreign, we didn't have much common ground for conversation.
I mentioned that I'd been to Switzerland and Austria, and that I'd love to go to Germany one day. One of the guys responded by saying that the Swiss and Austrians only try to speak German.
When we hit a lull, I started talking to my Welsh friend. While swapping funny stories about our students, one of the Germans offered me a piece of chewy ginseng candy. I accepted the gift, even though I don't think they taste very good, and thanked him. After finishing it, I continued my conversation. Then they all laughed, saying they wished that would have shut me up. My attempt at a friendly conversation with my fellow foreigners was a failure. I was silent from embarrassment for the remainder of the trip.
I was taking a bus from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap during my Cambodia vacation in February 2014. I sat across from two beautiful girls from London (the redhead was born in Ireland). We were exchanging travel stories for about the first half of this six-hour trip. There was an older woman sitting in front of me, and looking through the space between the two seat-backs, I could see she was reading a travel book in German. Apparently I was once again enrapt in conversation to the point of not being aware of the volume of my voice. I assumed everybody must be talking to somebody. After all, people have loud conversations on planes. There was loud street noise and we were driving on old bumpy dirt roads. Surely nobody was attempting to sleep. It's not like we were in the study room of a library. But once again, someone from Germany was tired of hearing me speak to someone from the UK.
She turned around and asked if I worked for CNN. Confused, I said no, I'm an English teacher. Then she hit me with the punchline: "Oh, because you're really loud."
The girls asked me what happened, and I whispered that we need to be quiet on the bus. They both promptly took a nap.
We pulled over somewhere for a lunch and bathroom break. Each individual stall was like a little wooden closet with a hole in the ground instead of an actual toilet. There was a cafeteria-style dining area. None of the food looked appealing to me, so I shopped at the fruit stand. I bought a bunch of bananas for one US dollar.
There were steers wondering around, and I thought that I also heard stray cats. If the cattle here aren't fenced in anywhere, seeing wild cats wouldn't be surprising. But I never saw any. Just as everybody started to board the bus, the German woman approached me said I have to go check out this bird. I saw the bird cage she pointed to, and I knelt in front of it. There was a small black bird inside. There were no cats. The bird said "Meow." It didn't make a sound similar to cats. This bird literally said the word "Meow." It also told me "Hi." I was mesmerized. By the time I turned my phone on to record a video of this, I had to get back on the bus.
Three days later I visited a village on my 26th birthday. That night I decided I would try something new and crazy to celebrate my new age. I had been curious about trying bugs, since it was something people did in Southeast Asia--locals for the protein, and tourists for the novelty. So I found a food cart that sold crickets, beetles, ants, tarantulas, and snakes. I thought the crickets and beetles would probably have the most unpleasant texture, and ants were too small. Tarantulas and snakes were only 75 cents each. I figured if they were gross, I wouldn't lose much. So I bought one tarantula and one snake. The snake was on a wooden stick like a kabob. It was about a foot long. Due to the dried skin and cartilage, I had to eat it like beef jerky. The taste was also similar to beef jerky. I didn't hate it, but I'm not a fan of gnawing on dried reptile skin. The tarantula was black, almost the size of my hand, and a bit greasy. I didn't want to taste the guts, so I didn't even attempt to eat the body. I plucked the legs off like flower petals.
When I started snacking on my spider, the German woman who mistook me for a newscaster showed up. She approached me as if we were complete strangers to tell me how entertaining it was to watch my face as the hairy barbecued legs inched their way down my throat. She also congratulated me on being so brave. She didn't ask if I would be reporting this on the news later. No jokes about the cat-bird. No jokes at all. She was just being friendly. She didn't hate me, or even remember me. The tae-kwon-do Germans probably don't remember that annoying American they gave the shut-up candy to either.
I thanked her.
She waved goodbye.
I finished my serving of spider legs. Something new. Something crazy.
Happy Birthday to me.
I mentioned that I'd been to Switzerland and Austria, and that I'd love to go to Germany one day. One of the guys responded by saying that the Swiss and Austrians only try to speak German.
When we hit a lull, I started talking to my Welsh friend. While swapping funny stories about our students, one of the Germans offered me a piece of chewy ginseng candy. I accepted the gift, even though I don't think they taste very good, and thanked him. After finishing it, I continued my conversation. Then they all laughed, saying they wished that would have shut me up. My attempt at a friendly conversation with my fellow foreigners was a failure. I was silent from embarrassment for the remainder of the trip.
I was taking a bus from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap during my Cambodia vacation in February 2014. I sat across from two beautiful girls from London (the redhead was born in Ireland). We were exchanging travel stories for about the first half of this six-hour trip. There was an older woman sitting in front of me, and looking through the space between the two seat-backs, I could see she was reading a travel book in German. Apparently I was once again enrapt in conversation to the point of not being aware of the volume of my voice. I assumed everybody must be talking to somebody. After all, people have loud conversations on planes. There was loud street noise and we were driving on old bumpy dirt roads. Surely nobody was attempting to sleep. It's not like we were in the study room of a library. But once again, someone from Germany was tired of hearing me speak to someone from the UK.
She turned around and asked if I worked for CNN. Confused, I said no, I'm an English teacher. Then she hit me with the punchline: "Oh, because you're really loud."
The girls asked me what happened, and I whispered that we need to be quiet on the bus. They both promptly took a nap.
We pulled over somewhere for a lunch and bathroom break. Each individual stall was like a little wooden closet with a hole in the ground instead of an actual toilet. There was a cafeteria-style dining area. None of the food looked appealing to me, so I shopped at the fruit stand. I bought a bunch of bananas for one US dollar.
There were steers wondering around, and I thought that I also heard stray cats. If the cattle here aren't fenced in anywhere, seeing wild cats wouldn't be surprising. But I never saw any. Just as everybody started to board the bus, the German woman approached me said I have to go check out this bird. I saw the bird cage she pointed to, and I knelt in front of it. There was a small black bird inside. There were no cats. The bird said "Meow." It didn't make a sound similar to cats. This bird literally said the word "Meow." It also told me "Hi." I was mesmerized. By the time I turned my phone on to record a video of this, I had to get back on the bus.
Three days later I visited a village on my 26th birthday. That night I decided I would try something new and crazy to celebrate my new age. I had been curious about trying bugs, since it was something people did in Southeast Asia--locals for the protein, and tourists for the novelty. So I found a food cart that sold crickets, beetles, ants, tarantulas, and snakes. I thought the crickets and beetles would probably have the most unpleasant texture, and ants were too small. Tarantulas and snakes were only 75 cents each. I figured if they were gross, I wouldn't lose much. So I bought one tarantula and one snake. The snake was on a wooden stick like a kabob. It was about a foot long. Due to the dried skin and cartilage, I had to eat it like beef jerky. The taste was also similar to beef jerky. I didn't hate it, but I'm not a fan of gnawing on dried reptile skin. The tarantula was black, almost the size of my hand, and a bit greasy. I didn't want to taste the guts, so I didn't even attempt to eat the body. I plucked the legs off like flower petals.
When I started snacking on my spider, the German woman who mistook me for a newscaster showed up. She approached me as if we were complete strangers to tell me how entertaining it was to watch my face as the hairy barbecued legs inched their way down my throat. She also congratulated me on being so brave. She didn't ask if I would be reporting this on the news later. No jokes about the cat-bird. No jokes at all. She was just being friendly. She didn't hate me, or even remember me. The tae-kwon-do Germans probably don't remember that annoying American they gave the shut-up candy to either.
I thanked her.
She waved goodbye.
I finished my serving of spider legs. Something new. Something crazy.
Happy Birthday to me.
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