Torturous task, but you feel a real sense of accomplishment once it is finished.
I went to go get passport photos taken at a small photo shop where I had printed photos before, and where I had my artwork once scanned. However, upon arrival, I discovered that the place was no longer a photo shop, and was in fact a pharmacy in the making. Frustrated, I tooled around on my bike until I found a little place that had the HP logo and the word Photo somewhere in its title. They didn't look open, and had a sign that seemed to say "Be back in 15." I came back in 15 (after trying to explain what I wanted at the post office, which was clearly not the place to go) but the sign remained. So. Nothing.
A few days later, after talking to my boss (she was also quite surprised that the photo shop was gone), Kim teacher told me to go to the baby photo place on the 3rd (or 4th) floor. I went. It was also closed--pretty empty, but I wasn't sure if it was closed for lunch or closed forever. So, infuriated, I just went to the bank and turned in all my coins. (60,000 won, baby!) That was one task completed. However, they couldn't transfer my visa money because I didn't have proper identification. (American ID doesn't cut it, and Korean Immigration had my passport and Alien ID card.) She kept saying: "Use the atm." And I tried to insist that I couldn't do it that way, because I needed the BANK receipt. Sigh. Uber frustration.
So I met up with Kristen and Emily, ate delicious Vietnamese food, and then returned to the HP place. As it turns out, it was NOT closed, but that was the back door, soo... I walked in and he was there, and he could do it, and for only 10,000 won (for six of them!). I collected them today--and he gave me a "wallet size" as "service", but it's pretty silly because I'm not smiling, have my hair shoved back, and couldn't care less about my appearance. But hey! It works.
So that's one visa task down. Next week I need to send the money, call the courier, and actually send the materials in. Then, within the week, I should have a visa for India. That will save me a lot of worry trouble. In the mean time, I continue to research graduate schools, instead of researching India--and doing the reading I promised myself.
Currently working my way through "The Valley of the Assassins, and Other Persian Travels" by Freya Stark. It's kind of... classic Romantic travel, though it is a little later than the Romantic Period. (1920s, I think.) Regardless of how I am SUPPOSED to feel as an academic about Romanticized travel, I do love it. She uses flourishy language, big words, and describes the women like they were in movies. It's a delightful break from over-analyzing and the constant desire in the modern day to not offend anybody.
Trying to arrange some kind of Temple Stay in the next month, but it's annoyingly difficult. Blah.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Rushing through the red tape--in a different language.
This past week has been consumed with visa questions and stuff related to India. It's all a little complicated, and not a little bit of it really frustrating.
In the end I know it'll be worth it, but currently it makes me feel really powerless. At first, the travel agent with whom I booked the ticket had spelled my name wrong. This was causing problems because maybe the Korean government wouldn't take that as proof that I was leaving the country. (Since my Korean visa is expiring on 9/2. They're giving me an extension until 10/2, the date of my flight.)
The India visa process is very complicated. That on its own is causing consternation. I went to get passport photos only to discover that the photo shop was missing. That was pretty disappointing. I'd had some nice photos made there. That's how things are in Korea, though--here one day, gone the next. And I do literally mean, gone the NEXT. Changed into something completely different.
Right now my passport is in the hands of the Korean government. As soon as I get it back, I have to send it to the hands of the Indian government in Seoul. I have to deposit a large sum of money into their account, and then I have to sit on my hands and wait until I get my visa.
In between that time, I have to study for my black belt test, which is rapidly approaching. Today, the sun is out and it's cool--which is one of the best things to happen to us over here in several months. I'm hoping that the weather keeps this up so I can go to the beach tomorrow. There's a nice one about two hours away from us, where I can relax, draw, and recoup from the extraordinary "Korea frustration" that I am feeling right now. It's really hard to give a place any leeway when you're about to leave. Everything is too difficult to deal with, or makes you furious.
The good news, though, is that I'm laughing a lot more with my kids, and I'm a lot more lenient with them these days. We're giggling over silly things, having good fun with coloring and other things, and they seem to be enjoying class more often. Next week, I start another baby class, so I get to give some more students English names and introduce them to the first words of their second language. That's always fun and adorable.
In the end I know it'll be worth it, but currently it makes me feel really powerless. At first, the travel agent with whom I booked the ticket had spelled my name wrong. This was causing problems because maybe the Korean government wouldn't take that as proof that I was leaving the country. (Since my Korean visa is expiring on 9/2. They're giving me an extension until 10/2, the date of my flight.)
The India visa process is very complicated. That on its own is causing consternation. I went to get passport photos only to discover that the photo shop was missing. That was pretty disappointing. I'd had some nice photos made there. That's how things are in Korea, though--here one day, gone the next. And I do literally mean, gone the NEXT. Changed into something completely different.
Right now my passport is in the hands of the Korean government. As soon as I get it back, I have to send it to the hands of the Indian government in Seoul. I have to deposit a large sum of money into their account, and then I have to sit on my hands and wait until I get my visa.
In between that time, I have to study for my black belt test, which is rapidly approaching. Today, the sun is out and it's cool--which is one of the best things to happen to us over here in several months. I'm hoping that the weather keeps this up so I can go to the beach tomorrow. There's a nice one about two hours away from us, where I can relax, draw, and recoup from the extraordinary "Korea frustration" that I am feeling right now. It's really hard to give a place any leeway when you're about to leave. Everything is too difficult to deal with, or makes you furious.
The good news, though, is that I'm laughing a lot more with my kids, and I'm a lot more lenient with them these days. We're giggling over silly things, having good fun with coloring and other things, and they seem to be enjoying class more often. Next week, I start another baby class, so I get to give some more students English names and introduce them to the first words of their second language. That's always fun and adorable.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Some notes, and some things about vacation
I never finished my vacation chronicle, but there wasn't really much to say. Sokcho was interesting, but a little weird--things had really exploded there and so it turned into a resort town that my meager wallet wasn't happy with. I wandered through fish restaurant street, saw a beautiful temple on the sea, and went up to the top of one of Seoraksan's famous mountains--mostly to see nothing because it was raining and I was, hence, in a cloud. I stayed in a creepy, but cheap yeogwan with sweet old ladies. The room had no window and no fan, so it was quite stuffy, but they did have air con and a regular style bed. The elevator was the freakiest part--and because I didn't want to climb up five flights in a rickety, blinking metal box--I decided to take the stairs. That was scarier still, I realized (though not enclosed--except by darkness) as I found my way up five flights of stairs in the dark. The rest of the building's floors were empty, you see, and being behind the fish market at midnight was, well, rather frightening. Luckily, though I wasn't worried--Only that it would be too expensive--and I enjoyed two nights at a price I wanted.
Here's a picture of the beautiful temple in Sokcho--Naksansa. I recommend it to any temple enthusiast. It's on the ocean and it's BEAUTIFUL. Anyway, I'm saving up my words because I'm going to write about it in my next article for Teach ESL Korea.
In other news--I have two kindergarten students who are in love. It's absolutely amazing. They have the same absurd "I love my life" personality. He has the most intoxicating laugh. Neither of them have their front teeth. She is always in her taekwondo uniform, with enormous eyes and this squirrely squiggily disposition. They talk to each other with this unbelievable authenticity, completely engrossed in each other without any concern for the outside world. I'm not even sure that it's occurred to them that they're in love, and that's why it's so great. On Friday, I was teaching the class, and they were twitching out as usual, but the whole time they were just talking seriously, and he was curling her hand into a little fist--the hand that only has three fingers. The Korean coteacher told me that lately the kids are realizing that she only has three fingers on one hand, and that they're teasing her about it. But not him. He's just curious. And like someone who's head over heals in love in a 100% healthy way, he's just interested in everything about her, including the things that other people think are faults.
Makes me believe in love again, I'll tell you that.
In other news--I have two kindergarten students who are in love. It's absolutely amazing. They have the same absurd "I love my life" personality. He has the most intoxicating laugh. Neither of them have their front teeth. She is always in her taekwondo uniform, with enormous eyes and this squirrely squiggily disposition. They talk to each other with this unbelievable authenticity, completely engrossed in each other without any concern for the outside world. I'm not even sure that it's occurred to them that they're in love, and that's why it's so great. On Friday, I was teaching the class, and they were twitching out as usual, but the whole time they were just talking seriously, and he was curling her hand into a little fist--the hand that only has three fingers. The Korean coteacher told me that lately the kids are realizing that she only has three fingers on one hand, and that they're teasing her about it. But not him. He's just curious. And like someone who's head over heals in love in a 100% healthy way, he's just interested in everything about her, including the things that other people think are faults.
Makes me believe in love again, I'll tell you that.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Moseying through Korea--in the rainy season
Well I've been on vacation since Thursday, which means that I took to the bus-filled streets and went to some really weird, remote places.
On Thursday, as I said last time, I embarked on the Scanner Adventure. On Friday, I took off for Jeonju, where I met up with Stephanie, wandered the streets of the hanok village, and got lots of mosquito bites. The city of Jeonju, despite its traditional buildings, heavy slate roofs, and whitewashed walls, has the distinct feeling of Northern Minnesota--or Wisconsin, or the UP. It's chalk full of artsy shops that are fun to wander through, but remind you that you are no where near rich. Jeonju is home to the Joseon Dynasty, and Hanji, an ancient art of making paper. Tons of paper related delicacies are on sale there, and they're really cool, but doubly expensive. Last time I was there, I bought a pair of paper-made earrings--which I promptly lost in the shuffle between work and Taekwondo.
On Saturday, Stephanie and I took a bus from Jeonju to Tapsa--definitely the most exciting and exhilerating temples I have seen in Korea. The temple is wedged into the middle of a cleft in the rock. It is all volcanic rock, too, the kind that we refered to as "Pudding Stone" when we encountered it beside Lake Superior. Pudding Stone is made up of lava rock and older, stronger rocks that are caught up in the downpour. In this case, some kind of madness created an gash in the rock, and this is where some monks decided to build their temple. Surrounding the temple are hundreds of little stone towers--some of them constructed and some of them balanced, precariously, on any flat surface available.
Little towers of rock are made while making prayers. The devotee makes a prayer and puts a rock on the tower. I made a prayer and then proceded to wander around the temple, photographing everything I could, and enjoying the glorious scenery. In front of one of the Buddhas, someone left a bag of Butterscotch candy, and little drips from the vines above--daredevil plants that clung to the side of the cavern--plopped on the thing and ran down its sides.
On Sunday, Stephanie and I took off from Seoul and went to Incheon, where I wandered the only Chinatown in Korea, and took a dirty old ferry to a dirty old island that belonged in the Carribean. (By the name of Jakyakdo 작약도.) I really enjoyed it, despite the fact that it was a meager speck of land that had seen better days. That was why I loved it so much. Despite the fact that Incheon is the host of the enormous international airport--the only airport that most people in Korea will ever see--there was no airplane noise, no hint of city on this tiny little jungle. Industrial equiptment, construction cranes, and the hustle and bustle of daily life in Korea could be seen from the shores of this island, but they were far away, lost in the fray of the ocean, which had made sure that this little rock had been completely forgotten by everything.
The night was topped off by the Heritage Ministry Gospel Choir Concert, which once a month has the impervious ability to make me both sob and love my life (and any man with a bit of charisma and a singing voice.) The next morning, I went into Seoul very early and borded a bus for Sokcho, where I am now. It's been another intreguing adventure, which I will write up after its completed.
On Thursday, as I said last time, I embarked on the Scanner Adventure. On Friday, I took off for Jeonju, where I met up with Stephanie, wandered the streets of the hanok village, and got lots of mosquito bites. The city of Jeonju, despite its traditional buildings, heavy slate roofs, and whitewashed walls, has the distinct feeling of Northern Minnesota--or Wisconsin, or the UP. It's chalk full of artsy shops that are fun to wander through, but remind you that you are no where near rich. Jeonju is home to the Joseon Dynasty, and Hanji, an ancient art of making paper. Tons of paper related delicacies are on sale there, and they're really cool, but doubly expensive. Last time I was there, I bought a pair of paper-made earrings--which I promptly lost in the shuffle between work and Taekwondo.
On Saturday, Stephanie and I took a bus from Jeonju to Tapsa--definitely the most exciting and exhilerating temples I have seen in Korea. The temple is wedged into the middle of a cleft in the rock. It is all volcanic rock, too, the kind that we refered to as "Pudding Stone" when we encountered it beside Lake Superior. Pudding Stone is made up of lava rock and older, stronger rocks that are caught up in the downpour. In this case, some kind of madness created an gash in the rock, and this is where some monks decided to build their temple. Surrounding the temple are hundreds of little stone towers--some of them constructed and some of them balanced, precariously, on any flat surface available.
Little towers of rock are made while making prayers. The devotee makes a prayer and puts a rock on the tower. I made a prayer and then proceded to wander around the temple, photographing everything I could, and enjoying the glorious scenery. In front of one of the Buddhas, someone left a bag of Butterscotch candy, and little drips from the vines above--daredevil plants that clung to the side of the cavern--plopped on the thing and ran down its sides.
On Sunday, Stephanie and I took off from Seoul and went to Incheon, where I wandered the only Chinatown in Korea, and took a dirty old ferry to a dirty old island that belonged in the Carribean. (By the name of Jakyakdo 작약도.) I really enjoyed it, despite the fact that it was a meager speck of land that had seen better days. That was why I loved it so much. Despite the fact that Incheon is the host of the enormous international airport--the only airport that most people in Korea will ever see--there was no airplane noise, no hint of city on this tiny little jungle. Industrial equiptment, construction cranes, and the hustle and bustle of daily life in Korea could be seen from the shores of this island, but they were far away, lost in the fray of the ocean, which had made sure that this little rock had been completely forgotten by everything.
The night was topped off by the Heritage Ministry Gospel Choir Concert, which once a month has the impervious ability to make me both sob and love my life (and any man with a bit of charisma and a singing voice.) The next morning, I went into Seoul very early and borded a bus for Sokcho, where I am now. It's been another intreguing adventure, which I will write up after its completed.
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