seoul’s line 9

After many delays, Seoul finally opened its newest subway line, Line 9, on Friday. As a big fan of Seoul’s subway system, I have been impatiently checking the news in an effort to ride the line on its opening day—heck, I would have been at the opening ceremony if I could!—but sadly, I missed it by two days.

After finally walking down into the station I’ve walked past (longingly, I might add) for the past several months, I discovered just how nice this new underground tunnel was for myself. It sure is pretty. Everything is grey or silver coloured, even vending machines, despite the “Gold Line” designation it’s been given. Everything looks shiny, clean, and new.

But there are a few things I noticed were lacking. I was disappointed to see that the trademark coloured stripe on the wall is missing. The station could use a splash of colour—and it would be helpful for the transfer stations on other lines, too. I’ll let it pass for now, seeing as it’s still a new line, but that gold stripe better get itself on those walls soon. And I also noticed that all subway stations on this line look exactly the same. Something I’ve loved about other lines is that most stations are uniquely designed—for example, Gangnam Station (Line 2) has its black and white circular tiles; Chungmuro Station (Lines 3 and 4) looks like a cave with its grey, rocky walls; Samgakji Station (Lines 4 and 6) has a war mural—giving each station its own character, and allowing subway users to quickly know what station they’re at. Here, they all blend together.

The station also has some amazing map additions (okay, probably something not many people would get excited about, but I love it). Each station in the entire system comes equipped with lots of neighbourhood maps so users can find their way to attractions outside the stations, but at all stations on the gold line, they have two kinds of maps: one regular drawn map and one real-view aerial map. Aerial maps are awesome.

The train cars themselves are different too. First, trains only have four cars—half or less than half of other lines. Inside, the yellow handle bars alternate height for easier access. The seats are very comfortable, I’m told it’s because they’re a little wider, and the space underneath seats has been left open, which as far as I can remember doesn’t happen with other lines. And there are no doors in between the cars, making it easier for users with wheelchairs.

Line 9 has an express line, too, meaning some trains skip stations and only hit the main ones. I thought it might be confusing, but it seems organized and well posted. Lots of volunteers are on hand now to help people figure it all out.

My first ride on the newest subway line was exciting. Now I’m looking for more reasons to go to Gangnam so I can ride it again.

lollipop ladies

There’s another girl group new to the K-pop music scene: 2NE1 (pronounced similarly to “twenty-one”). These four ladies (CL, Dom, Minzy, and Dara) were introduced alongside the K-pop’s favourite boy band, Big Bang, in the song “Lollipop,” which was both a single and a commercial for LG’s Cyon Lollipop cell phones.

They’re first single, “Fire,” which I don’t remember hearing about from my students. Now they’ve released their second single, called “I Don’t Care.” It’s about finally distancing oneself from a bad boyfriend—and it’s catchy, too. I have to say, 2NE1 scores 3/3 with me. I’m a fan of these girls.

I Don’t Care
2NE1

innocent

Love Motel in Seoul

just another day in parliament

It’s the same old parliamentary story: one party wants to pass a bill, opposing party has concerns, negotiations fail, both parties wrestle each other to the ground like wild animals in expensive clothing. It’s a tale that has passed down from news programs to viewers for generations—well, as long as South Korea has been a democratic country, that is.

Democracy is supposed to give people voices, but here in Korea, it means fists. I don’t know how this isn’t embarrassing for politicians here, especially since it is a common occurrence. Just a few months after I moved here, there was a fight (video) in December 2007 about now-President Lee Myung Bak’s fraud investigation. A man had to be removed from the room by stretcher. Last year in December, there was another one (video), this time about the free trade agreement with the US. Someone involved in this fight suffered head injuries; not surprising when you hear that sledgehammers were involved. And now this year there has already been two: one in January (video) and one this week (video), both ending with some hospital visits. I haven’t quite been able to understand what January’s brawl was over (a protest or blockade or something—though I’m beginning to think it doesn’t really matter), and the one this week involved opposing views on a media bill (which was passed, by the way).

clinton & koreans

This week, Hillary Clinton made the news for her exchange of words with North Korea. After she likened North Korean leaders to “unruly children” whose antics should be ignored, they responded: “We cannot but regard Mrs. Clinton as a funny lady, as she likes to utter such rhetoric, unaware of the elementary etiquette in the international community,” the North Korean statement said. “Sometimes she looks like a primary schoolgirl and sometimes a pensioner going shopping.” (New York Times)

That’s a harsh statement, especially compared to her visit to Seoul earlier this year. In late February, she made a speech at Ewha Women’s University, where she impressed the audience of a few thousand female students. After the appropriate applause for her equally appropriate speech on women’s empowerment, there was a town hall-like Q&A session. She spent the hour answering personal questions about her upbringing, finding love, her family and balancing motherhood and her career, feeling a little “more like an advice columnist than a secretary of state” (New York Times). A couple weeks later, Clinton was voted as the most respected internation role model for women by the school’s freshman students.

pose

When taking pictures of Koreans, I’ve found there are two options for poses: 1) grumpy, unsmiling, and serious, or 2) cutey-patootey with curious hand gestures and facial expressions. The former is popular in formal situations, such as school portraits, taxi registration cards, or business photos, while the latter is usually reserved for informal, casual situations, like hanging out with friends, sel-ka (cell phone camera self-portraits, the oh-so-popular Korean hobby), and nights out. I’ve recently come across this website that has a list of these so-called “Asian poses.” So far the author has listed 28 poses, including tears/teasing, horns, heart shape and giant heart, fighting fists, claws and other favourites.

While my students would be horrified (italics and underline necessary) if I ever posted pictures of them here, I can say that photos I’ve taken in my classroom have a large number of these creative poses. The V-sign (uncorrectly called the “peace sign” by Westerners, including myself) is by far the most popular of all the poses; it’s even one that I’ve adopted for my own photos. But it’s not limited to the static (and dare I say, uncreative) hand-up-beside-you-with-the-V-and-smile; my students can strike a dozen different poses with this simple gesture, including the sideways-V-sign-around-an-eye, the V-sign-around-the-mouth, and the double-V-signs-covering-my-cheeks-to-make-it-look-like-I-have-a-small-face.

The desire to have a small face poses (ha!) a problem when taking pictures. Many of my students become shy when I point my camera at them, immediate reacting to over up their face, either entirely or in portions. Another popular pose, which has yet to be included in the website, is the I’m-covering-my-entire-lower-face-with-my-hand-so-that-you-can-only-see-my-eyes-because-I-think-this-makes-me-look-like-I-have-a-small-face. (I personally think it looks like they’re being suffocated. Not cute.) Other variations of this pose include using fists to cover the lower half of the face, covering one cheek, or covering both cheeks with the palms in a V to make the face look more heart-shaped.

After reviewing this list of Asian poses, I’ve realized that I must take boring pictures. I usually like to smile, maybe throw up the V/peace sign, or—if I’m feeling bold—rest my hand on my hip. I have some work to do if I want to get these poses down before I leave Korea in six weeks.

dog days of summer

Today, 14 July, is the hottest day of the year. Or rather, it should be, according to the lunar calendar. Current weather conditions: rainy, windy, 25 degrees.

Today is called Chobok, first hottest day. It’s the first of three “hottest days of the year” during a period known as Sambok. The three collective “hottest days” (Chobok, Jungbok, middle hottest day, and Malbok, final hottest day) are called boknal, which translates to “dog days.” The non-Korean world also has the expression “Dog Days of Summer” to describe the hottest days of the year; a reference to the dog star, Sirius, or maybe just the fact that both dogs and people get lazy when it’s ridiculously hot outside. But Koreans take the expression to a whole new level: traditionally, people eat dog soup, called boshintang.

Today, though, most people eat a special soup, samgyetang, which is a full chicken stuffed with rice and ginger, boiled in a mild broth. It’s a hot soup—a seemingly odd choice for such a hot day. But Koreans like to eat hot food on hot days because sweat cools the skin, while the heat warms the inside. Today may not have been a hot day, but the rain and wind didn’t stop people from waiting outside samgyetang restaurants under their umbrellas, just so they could get a taste. Rain or shine, tradition is tradition. And chicken soup just tastes good.

start of goodbyes

Today, my seventh-to-last day of teaching regular classes at Dongduk, I received a little going-away present from three of my students. All three are first year students (the equivalent of grade 7 in North America), and two of the three had been in a few of my after-school programs this year. None of them are strong students—at all—but they has never stopped them from coming to talk with me after class, which I’ve always loved.

They presented me with a small envelope. Inside was a letter and some earrings. I was immediately impressed with the length of the letter; it was much longer than any composition they had written for me before. In the letter, they introduced themselves as “3 girls who received candies in 1-1 class.” Apparently my prizes have made more of an impression on the students than I thought! They went on to tell me that they are sad to see me leave, and asked, “Will you be happy without us??” Knowing that I will miss them, they answered for me: “Maybe you won’t HaHa~”

The pink, candy-shaped earrings, the girls wrote, were “composed of [their] minds,” which, although I don’t quite know what they meant by that, I appreciate the sentiment. Not my usual style, but I gladly put them on and am currently wearing them with pride.

The letter ends with a request to think of them often—something I’ll have no problem fulfilling. How could I forget?

This has gotten me thinking about some of my old teachers. Some of them I remember for being great teachers, or for helping me learn about myself. I never would have gotten through math if I didn’t have Ms Chalmers in high school for three years. Or, though I wasn’t his biggest fan at the time, Mr Sardine pushed me hard in English, and I have to thank him for that. Keck, my drama teacher, supported me through my growing years in high school.

But there are also those I remember for telling us that they hated teaching. I never knew why a teacher would announce to their students that they hated being there with us day in and day out; it’s not like we didn’t know they were huge grumps, but to tell us straight up they didn’t want to be there? That’s harsh. Then why are you here? I would telepathically ask them from my seat.

Now, after being a teacher myself, I question their actions even more. WHY WERE YOU A TEACHER?? I want to scream at them. I have loved my job here since Day 1; I’m energized as soon as I get in the classroom, even if I was falling asleep on the bus on the way to school. I feel priviledged to be a teacher, to do my best to help these students grow as people as well as English speakers.

My students don’t need to ask me to remember them. I always will.

gangnam alley

there you are

No matter where you go, there you are.
~ Unknown