Guest Post-- Michael Eats Fruit for Thought

I made my own calendars where the year begins on the day I ate my first banana (17/3/2014 FYI, or 3/17/2014 if you’re wacky). Before I moved to Korea I never ate fruit and it was just one of the many firsts Korea would demand. As it is, I don’t really want to tell you about Korea’s firsts. I want to tell you about coming home and how my returning home compares to Korea through the medium of fruit.

Mangoes just scream sunshine and good times. So, when I saw mangoes in a Korean supermarket I was sure they would be delightful. Oh how wrong I was. I’m told I was low-balled on mango quality because these were terrible mangoes. They somehow managed to taste both fresh and putrid. The expectation of mango and the actualisation of mango were as far apart as the transport in Korea and the transport at home. In Korea, you pay for transport with a smart card and everything is cheap and clean and efficient. Journeys join up so you don’t have to pay full price for every transfer. If ever the Korean public transport system grinds to a halt, I’m sure they’ll have something less convenient to get people around. Maybe personal floating clouds or something.  In Glasgow, the transport is expensive and definitely not user friendly. Buses require exact change to pay their expensive fares (fares like £4.30 – who has 30p just lying around?) and the subway has not been extended since it opened in 1896 or upgraded in decades. You pay for each section of your journey anew and it all starts to add up. Similar journeys are 4 times more expensive in Glasgow and about 100 times less convenient. We’re paying for Korea and somehow getting Cambodia.

Kiwis are a bit like big testicles, but that’s not currently relevant. When I tried kiwi I found it a bit bland and then it had a tang and then it got enjoyable. I didn’t enjoy kiwi much at first, but it got better as I went. This fruit of contradictions maps well with the difference in my nights out in Korea and in Glasgow. In Korea I found it difficult to find one particular place I really enjoyed going, but as I went out more I got more used to the scene and enjoyed that things were open late. At home the journey is reversed. I know all the awesome places to go, but because of Glasgow’s alcohol problem and the stupid way we deal with it, all clubs and bars must be closed by 3am. This means nights out are curtailed and you’re left to try and get home when everyone else in the city centre is doing the exact same thing. Add the bad public transport and tens of thousands of people (who would really rather still be drinking) trying to get a handful of taxis and it makes getting home a dangerous proposition, even if it’s just because you’re waiting outside in the cold for ages. 

Dragon fruit was supposed to be exciting. Have you seen a dragon fruit? It looks like Ryu’s fireball from Street Fighter or, you know, a dragon’s fire! Wow! How amazing is dragon fruit going to be? I couldn’t wait to try dragon fruit. Seeing all my friends again was supposed to be exciting. Do you remember all those amazing times from before you left for Korea? How amazing is it going to be to make a whole new bunch of memories? On the surface, dragon fruit was all raz-ma-taz and full of exciting promises. Once you cut into it, it looks a bit like an Oreo McFlurry and you think you’re about to have a taste sensation. Ultimately, dragon fruit was disappointing. On the surface, seeing my friends again was all exciting and full of adventurous promises. Once you get into making plans, you think things are looking good, life will be sensational. Ultimately, seeing your old friends becomes disappointing. Dragon fruit is a little bit underwhelming. My friends all had their own lives which had settled while I was away. It’s hard to unsettle your friends and while they agree to adventures on principle, agreeing the specifics and matching up disparate schedules is almost impossible. The closed bubble of being an English teacher in Korea meant everyone was in the same boat - people were always looking for things to do and places to go. Coming home is kind of dragon fruit (it’s an adjective now).

When I tried persimmons I tried plural. I bought different shapes and colours and sizes. I thought they would all taste different. Unsurprisingly they all did taste different. This was another fruit of extremes. The first I tried was a small yellow persimmon that I thought would be the worst. I was wrong. It was sweet and much better than I expected, and didn’t even taste too fresh. The big red persimmon was another story. I cut it up and it looked a little juicy. I thought the brighter colour would mean it was sweeter. I was wrong. My first reaction “mmm,” and then all of a sudden my teeth felt weird and a bitter taste invaded my mouth. It felt like all the moisture in my mouth had been sucked into the persimmon I’d just chewed up. One of my friends suggested that is probably what it would be like if you ate one of those wee bags of silica gel that comes with new shoes. 

Living with my mum has had a similar effect on soaking up all the fun I wanted to have when I got home. In Korea I lived in a small, one-room apartment, but it had a sweet broadband connection. Plus it was only about 7 minutes from bed to work. Living in one room doesn’t sound awesome, but the nature of life in Korea is that you don’t have to spend too much time in it if you don’t want to, since getting everywhere was easy and people were up for activities. My wee room was much better than expected. Living with my mum is more like the big persimmon. At home there’s no sweet internet connection, but the bitterness of being without any internet connection except my phone. It is miles away from anything and, thanks to the extortionate transport prices, it costs a fortune to go anywhere for anything. Add to that the fact I happened to get stabbed not far from here so I don’t feel entirely safe getting off a bus late at night. Living with my mum has had it’s nice times, but it’s largely been big persimmon.

Banana was far and away my favourite food. In fact, now that I’m home I often share a banana with my nephew who loves 'nanas'.  I have nothing bad to say about bananas. They are delicious and I’ve been a fool to not have them in my life. In that respect, Korea’s bananas was my job. I loved my job, even if my workplace wasn’t awesome. Teaching kids is probably the best thing I’ve done with my life and going to Korea gave me the clear career goal I’ve wanted for years. No Korea would have meant no bananas and no plan to become a primary school teacher. Glasgow’s bananas is probably...Tinder? I’ve not really gotten to the end of Tinder in Glasgow yet and that can’t be a bad thing. Not really. The real bananas at home is my nephew. He is awesome and growing up and talking and doesn’t give me as many cuddles as I would like, but he makes me laugh all the same. He loves being chased. Sometimes he thinks (or pretends, who knows) tree branches are dinosaur bones. He’s bananas.

Bananas aside, my life must sound pretty gloomy, but it isn’t that bad. Sure I didn’t like lots of the fruit I tried and there’s plenty to complain about at home, but I came home for a reason. As much as I look forward to trying new fruits, I’m looking forward to getting back into teaching here at home and becoming a better teacher. Once I stop living like a 14 year old, I’m sure I’ll stop complaining like one. 






Michael O'Donnell would be a polar bear if he could be any animal, but he'd feel bad about eating exclusively meat. He has nothing personal against seals or walruses. He recently tried broccoli for the first time and didn't hate it.

Mixed up in Miami: Pros and Cons

Sick of winter? Jealous of those of us in tropical climates? Miami seduces even the toughest Canadian with the temptation of a permanent escape from the Abominable Snowman. But if you are thinking of moving, don't waste time comparing a list of pros and a list of cons. What you need is a list of Pros and Cons because yes, Miami is that confusing.

1. Spanish is Everywhere

On the radio, across billboards, in the restaurant and the supermarket and the streets. As of the 2010 census, 63.77% of the population in Miami-Dade County speaks Spanish. Am I practicing? Not really. Sure, the woman taking our order doesn't speak English, but it doesn't seem like she'll be charmed a gringa struggling to sputter some Spanish at her.

2. Diversity
Miami has one of the highest percentages of foreign born population in the world. This doesn't mean that it's the most diverse, but it blasts many other places (like South Korea) out of the water. For example, there is access to basically any kind of food you could want. In the past few weeks I've enjoyed Korean, Japanese, Greek, German/Austrian, Mexican, Cuban, Italian, Brazilian, Indian, Thai, and probably more.

3. Weather
You (could) wear shorts every day, seeing as it's 80 degrees most of the time. I don't even own a jacket anymore. Sometimes that doesn't work out so well, but it's a luxury to be warm every morning when you get out of bed. I get sweaty on my walk to work even though it's 8:30 AM in January. The constant climate for body-baring does lead to some places basically becoming Barbie Land. I happened upon a Model Beach Volleyball competition, and probably see a Maserati per day, on average.

4. Tourism
The beaches are here and you can go all the time. Sparkling water, direct sunlight, and sand. The water is everywhere but you can't have it. There's no parking, or there's only expensive parking, and you have to drive past miles of privately owned seaside before you reach a public, tolled, and likely crowded beach. Tourist attractions cost money, and not chump change. It's about $20 a person to get into two of Miami's most lauded destinations, Fairchild Tropical Botanical Garden and Vizcaya Museum and Gardens. Hope they didn't want me to visit more than once, because I'm gonna avoid spending that lunch money and keep my eyes peeled for the rumored free admission days.

5. Landscape
There are adorable little lizards and other surprising and fascinating flora and fauna everywhere. Check out this short documentary about fluorescent local coral! However, many of these creatures are either invasive or endangered... and if not that, then they are going to be underwater in about 100 years.






























6. City Layout

"The time is always now!"

The city is sprawl, limited here and there by either ocean or alligator territory, and the traffic is a formidable and seemingly unpredictable beast, from work day rush hours to random fifteen minute back-ups for no apparent reason. On top of this, people drive like they're Sterling Archer, or like they can only see the edges of the road, not the lines or the other cars. This shouldn't be too big of a problem because Miami has both a metro line and a bus system, but despite that fact public transportation is essentially nonexistent. I admit I might be simply spoiled from my residence in Seoul, a public transport utopia, but the facts are unavoidably underwhelming. You can't take the metro to the Miami Beach, the city's most important tourism spot. If you take a bus, there's a good chance it's late, inordinately expensive, and the air conditioner has probably been dripping water all over the empty seats at the back of the bus.

To conclude, Miami isn't like Korea, which isn't surprising, but it isn't like the U.S. of A, either. In Korea I was a 'real' foreigner, and it garnered for me all kinds of sympathy, assistance, friends and excuses for my embarrassing moments. In Miami, I'm a 'fake' foreigner. Still searching for the hip spots to hang? Don't know the most efficient ways of getting around? Can't communicate effortlessly with someone? Wait a minute...aren't you from this country?! A redeeming quality: this unfamiliarity is where I can begin to explore, and (hopefully) find that keen feeling of accomplishment, the one that comes at the end of the day, when your ankles are dusty from walking, your feet are tired, and your mind is buzzing with the aftermath of adventure.

Guest Post--Just Jams: The Seoul International Fireworks Festival

"The Seoul International Fireworks Festival was yesterday
It was pretty amazing and probably the best fireworks I've ever seen
So I did as the Koreans do and watched it all through my cellphone
Now you get to watch this 11 minute video"
                                               -James Romanek

Photo courtesy of Michael O'Donnell

Mr. Romanek hails from Windsor, Canada, a city so dangerously close to Detroit that the prospect of living in such proximity to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea failed to frighten him in the least. He enjoys mekju, accidentally hilarious and/or offensive hats, and 2+1 Pringles. Some of his favorite activities including swooning attractive Korean ladies and winning things in street side push-games. Mr. Romanek has resided in Korea for exactly the same time as the Carolion, and plans to return for a second year.

광화문 빛너울 -- Gwanghwamun Wavering of Light

The video quality is not too fabulous, but here are three quick clips of a spectacular event at Gyeongbukgung Palace in Seoul! This year featured three short films (~10 min each) by Lyu Jae Ha projected onto Gwanghwamun Gate. This show was the definition of Sunday Funday, and absolutely worth whatever procrastination it came from/caused. Enjoy :)

In the first video you'll see images of the lucky animal figurines that often adorn the roof corners of palaces and temples. 

 I don't know what the second clip is, but it's cool. 

In the third clip, try to spot the twelve 'drummers' standing in front of the gate doors, who represent twelve moons.

Kindergarten Graduation and the New School Year

At school, nearly all of 2014 has been sacrificed to the demon-god that is kindergarten graduation at a Korean hagwon. I'll try not to make too many statements like the following, but I have to say at least this one: Korean culture puts a lot of value into presentation and performance. You see it in how people dress, how they whip out their phones to check their hair and their makeup, and I could tell when my six seven-year-olds spent the majority of their last month of kindergarten memorizing lines, learning a choreographed dance, and squinting in the blinding stage lights.

My kindergarteners are unbelievable. First of all, they speak two languages.  They come to school every day, where they sit quietly while we read and discuss stories, write journal entries, learn geography and math and facts about various classical composers. They speak in complete sentences, they practice beautiful handwriting, they get unpacked and packed up all by themselves, and they go home and do homework. Well, I have thoughts about all of this, as I always do, so I make a point to get the kids moving and coloring and laughing as much as I can. The school encourages us to do so, and I know my co-teachers all make similar efforts. Occasionally we do catch ourselves complaining, but we quickly remember that we asked a five year old to 'sit nicely and pay attention' for 40 minutes straight, and we manage our expectations.

Photo day was a perfect example of the Korean attention to presentation. Our children had three different outfits: fancy, uniform, and jeans with a white tee and bare feet. The Korean teachers were buzzing about fixing hair and MAKEUP yes makeup, and the photographer took series of photos to ensure capturing that cute kid smile. To top it all off, my coworkers preached of the promise of photoshop to fix any flaws, and the final product delivered! That was the second picture day of the year, and later that week the photographer came back to retake a few of the pictures. Presentation is serious business.

So fast-forward to graduation time. My 7A India Peacocks had to learn the ILS motto and give a little speech around a theme (some classes did a skit), we had to record a two-minute 'commercial', and we still had school. In the end the graduation ceremonies-- the nine classes were split over two days-- were orderly, impressive, and adorable. As expected. Still, the amount of times I used some variation of the phrase "Don't worry so much!" was much too high. Everyone was so stressed, and our students could sense it.  They felt the pressure, they worked hard at every rehearsal, even when they were sick and tired of doing the same routine for the 20th time that week. As for me, I still stand by my motto for those weeks.  No matter what happens, a group of kindergarteners on stage in little caps and gowns is always going to be charming and precious and perfect.  And they were!

We started the new school year on Thursday. The 7B1 Jungle Jaguars are five seven-year-olds who are in their second year of studying English. I have quickly become an expert on wild cats. And since now you're wondering...cheetahs have spots, while leopards have rosettes and jaguars have spots inside their rosettes. Also, there are only four 'big cats', the ones that can ROAR: lion, tiger, jaguar, leopard. Boom! Education! Here's to a year full of fun learning, for my jaguars and the Carolion.

Busan, New Year's, DMZ

Yongdong Persimmon Festival

Adorable clock tower outside Yongdong Station

One day when I was living in Budapest I went to the élelmiszer downstairs to buy some veggies for dinner.  Back in our galley kitchen, I sliced open a tomato and out spilled a little confusion: the tomato was slightly slimy and sweet, with a hint of cinnamon.  It was delicious...but it was no tomato.  It was a persimmon and henceforth my love of persimmons flowered.

Naturally when I bumped into the Yongdong Persimmon Festival on the interwebs, I cleared my schedule.  The day came and I still hadn't found anyone who was willing to make the 3 hour trek with me, so I hopped on a KTX train and into an adventure.

It was surprisingly easy to get to the festival, despite how difficult it was to find any English directions or reviews.  The train dropped me off at Yongdong Station and the festival was a little less than a ten minute walk away.  I followed the red lanterns over a little bridge and around to the sounds of Korean music and smell of street food.

 Yongdong is the Holy Land of Fruit in Korea, a name which further attracted me to the festival for my favorite fruit.  But the festival was not just about eating-- there were demonstrations of different machinery for processing the fruit, performances, local wineries, and more.  It was not as large as I expected, but it seemed like a true neighborhood and cultural event.  I was the only foreigner I could spot.

My alien looks caught the attention of a few local news shows (or other promotional people, let's be real I have no idea).  I was asked four different times to be recorded tasting different vendors' variation on the dried persimmon, sampling sweet tea and persimmon candy, and saying in my terrible Korean "Yongdong persimmons are delicious!"

The fruits of my labor were many: I rode the train home with two boxes of dried persimmons, some whole and some sliced for snacking. And you know I snacked on the way. I figured out that you can ride the train great distances with a ticket but without a seat. This information would later prove handy (as future posts will explain).   And I saw and tasted something I'll probably never experience again.

Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all throughout Jukjeon

Not a teacher was teaching, not even ILS ones.

Their lessons were planned by the week with care,

In hopes that vacation time soon would be there.

When out from the hall there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the desk to see what was the matter.

Away to the doorway I ran like a savage,

Tore through the lobby to spot a....Christmas package!

Mom had spoken not a word, but went straight to the post,
And sent off the box with great contents to boast.
Four bags of Cheerios, and lots of good tea.
But best, a letter and a Warhall Christmas CD.

I sprang in the air and let out a cheer,
I felt so loved from those far and near.
So I (virtually) exclaim, as I enjoy life's delights,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Missing my family, my friends, my dog, my home, but loving my life and living the dream (to quote one of my new friends).  Thank you to the Warhalls for thinking of me; I'm already loving the latest installation of the best Christmas card series known to humankind! I hope you enjoy my own compilation of, erm, noises...

******Just to be clear, that bird is saying 안녕하세요 (annyeong haseyo) which means 'hello!'******

Something Old, Something New

Saturday morning I woke up at 7:45 and threw on a dress.  Bundled up to meet Warren at a bus stop, and traveled an hour and a half up to northern Seoul, where we attended a Korean wedding! Warren's soccer buddy was getting married, and Warren's girlfriend couldn't make it to the wedding, so I jumped at the opportunity to go on an adventure and dress up! But before we go any further, let's  clarify what I mean by 'wedding'... this was a Korean express wedding.  20 minutes in and out, so the next couple can use the space and tie the knot.

The wedding took place in a large conference center called the Seoul Foundation of Women and Family. There was even a little open coffee shop in the lobby.  Upon walking in I saw three tall floral arrangements, which I now suspect were waiting for the weddings that would occur throughout the day.  Warren picked up a white envelope from the security counter to fill with his cash gift and wrote a little note on the back.  Gifts from friends range from about $30-50.  A man sitting at a desk outside of the International Conference Hall exchanged the envelope for two business cards, and we entered the room.

We sat at a large round table next to the raised center aisle with some other foreign soccer buddies and their dates.  Everything was draped with white-- table cloths, aisle, stage, ceiling-- there were white candles and fake white petals along the aisle, and white pillars topped with white hydrangeas.  The bridal party waited at the end of the aisle, with the mothers of the bride and groom at the lead in their traditional Korean Hanboks. The fathers wore suits, the groom wore a tuxedo, and the bride looked ravishing in her white gown and veil.  There were two women from the conference hall orchestrating the event, another woman that followed the bride around and fussed over the arrangement of her train, and a man announcing the events in sports center fashion.

At 11:02 the mothers walked up the aisle to the stage and lit large white candles on either side.  They bowed to the audience and to each other, eliciting applause from both sides of the room, and descended to two sets armchairs set on either side of the front of the stage, where their husbands soon joined them. The groom strutted down the aisle to the Rocky Theme, amongst whispers confirming that he is a semi-professional boxer who often trains movie stars for fighting films.  Finally, the bride and her father walked down to some mushy English tune, and joined her husband to be.  They read their vows to each other (everything was in Korean else I might have something more interesting to report) and also completed a set of bows to the audience and one another.  The entire time the audience has a low buzz of conversation, as if every other person were giving their own play-by-play commentary to their neighbor.  Also, everyone left their coats on.


Bride and groom returned to the aisle to face a large projector screen. Prior to the ceremony, the screen flipped through cute photos of the couple, but now someone pulled up a YouTube video of a man, possibly the groom, in short soccer shorts playing a ukelele. Everyone cooed as he sang some Korean love song. Next, the bride and groom went to their parents and performed a more serious bow, not just at the waist, but kneeling with the forehead touching the ground. They stood up and hugged their parents, then went to the other set of parents on the opposite side.

By far the HIGHLIGHT of the ceremony was what followed. A cousin sand a song karaoke style to the bride and groom. It was a very lighthearted event and everyone was laughing and clapping in good humor throughout his performance. By 11:32, it was all over.

Friends (women on the bride's side, men on the groom's)

Family (see, more Hanboks!)

After, all us foreigners including me sheepishly headed up to the stage to pose for pictures with the newlyweds so the guys could run to a soccer match.  Korean photographers are quite intent on the perfect photo, so this was a serious process on display for everyone.  We obviously jumped the queue; the entire family was next, then just the immediate families, and last all their friends whom I thought were waiting for the next wedding as they had been standing in the back the entire time.

The 'reception' was on the third floor.  It turned out our business cards got us into a glorified cafeteria with an elaborate buffet.  There were flat screens all over live streaming the next wedding, which started as we were sitting down to eat. The food was great, and made up for the less-than-intimate setting of sitting next to a bunch of guests from someone else's wedding.  Plus, there was free beer and soju (Korean rice liquor)...and we all know it was five o'clock somewhere!

Bride and groom changed into their own matching Hanboks and sifted their way through the crowds to greet their own wedding guests, as we stuffed our faces like the Thanksgiving-deprived Americans we were.  If one of them ever reads this, thank you for letting me attend and sorry for being in that picture. I send you the best wishes in your marriage. It was was a beautiful and fascinating event. There was such a range between the details of tradition and convenience of modernity.  While parts of the event seems rushed, canned, or impersonal, the event was probably much more affordable and an easier addition to anyone's weekend. But somehow I doubt this is what my newly engaged cousin (Love you, Jeanette and Jim!) has planned. :)