End of trip wrap up

Korea was a wonderful experience to say the least and though my clothes began to become unkempt and dirty, my heart still had a steady palpitation of love. The last week was full of teaching once again. I was losing my patience quicker because the sight of Home was illuminated on the horizons of my thoughts. Perhaps the reason I was not at all reluctant to disembark from teaching in Korea was due to the fact that I was severely fatigued. I seemed to have strayed away from writing the last week I was teaching, usually I would be irked because of my lack of discipline. However, I did make an exception, as it was nearing the end of my teaching trip this summer.

To sum up the entire last week would be quite ridiculous and rather improbable. What I can do is tell you how this trip has affected me, how the lessons I have come to learn will impact my life indefinitely. I was incredulous at the aspect of leaving Korea, though I was direly homesick, I loved my students. You come to love things with time, especially people. I found that my stomach -against my will- had come to love Korean cuisine, and my western mind had come to not so much enjoy, but rather, to respect Eastern culture as it is. The last day of the Wanju-gun English Camp was on Friday, August 13th. The ceremony was drawn out and tiresome. Although I could barely retain my cognitive faculties, if they existed at all, I fell even deeper in love with my students. Two of them left the hall crying in front of their parents. One particular student, Kim Bo Ram Chan stood in front of me to snap one final picture, as I creased the corners of my mouth in a smile I glanced over to see his head slouched down and tears welling up in his tiny eyes. He blinked with a fury, his black eyelashes fluttering to keep out the moisture. Red rings circled his eyes and soon he was in a terrible fit of tears. He turned on his heels and pressed his fifth grade head into my shoulder and started sobbing. I looked at his father and his face retained a hint of benevolence, and he smiled assuringly that he understood what his sons emotions were doing. Bo Ram Chan peeled his face off of my sleeve and meandered towards the exit. His father shared with me his business card, so we could keep our friendship active for the future.

I learned a multitude of things while I was abroad in Korea. The hard times that I faced while I was teaching was just preparation for the turmoils that adult life seem to beget. It showed me that no matter how difficult a classroom may be, I should persevere . I have counted this new knowledge as invaluable, and store it in the back of my brain for the next time I am in a teaching situation. Lord willing, this situation will be soon.

Until I am again overseas,
your quirky writer,
David

August 12th- Wrapping up

Beckoning

inspired by being away, and wanting to be Home --

I spend my nights staring
into the infinite black of
dusk, hoping to see the
red flashing lights of your
train in its posthaste gait.
Stampeding on iron tracks,
as a herd of horses, their
manes billowing as banners,
their nostrils blowing warm
sighs, and their eyes, those
chesnut brown spheres, locked
on a destination. I eagerly
await your return as Mercedes,
and if I put my ear to the track,
I think I can hear the vibrations
of your heart, the subtle palpitations-
just when I have given up and
turn to leave, I hear the howling
of your heart, chugging and
billowing back Home. You
were always worth the wait
Odyesseus, I, Penelope have
moored myself to your love,
and this bond cannot be broken.

August 9th- Wandering

Inspired by James Joyce's, "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man"

i awoke finding
myself wandering
the narrow alleyways
of sleep, a deep darkness
like a moonless night
strung itself between
the trees as a clothes
line, and her parted lips,
that silent pressure
of desire descended
upon me. The warm rising
and falling of her chest
against mine, soothed
and allayed my confessions,
upon the alter of sin,
we find our true faces.

August 7th- Desert Day

This was the first free day we have had all trip. The personal assistants and our team went out on the town for twelve hours ad explored the downtown area. The Koreans are very outgoing people once they are comfortable around you. Getting them to respond to your humor and personality is an interesting ordeal, but after hearing the voracious laughter exuded today, I can only say that it was unequivocally worth it. We started the day taxing to the downtown district, and after arriving at the movie theater and finding that the movie Inception was sold out, we bought tickets for later in the night, and headed to the Korean barbershop.

We walked around the corn maze of the shopping district and found our destination. Strutting up the wooden steps onto the second floor of the building, we immediately noticed the wall full of glimmering mirrors and the swift snapping sounds of scissors chomping down on fresh follicles. Every guy on the team decided to get a Korean styled haircut. It was the most relaxing experience I have had on this trip to date. The young woman that cut my hair exercised scrutiny, and was deliberate with her detailing, and when the bulk of the cut was finished she washed my hair, and then styled it with wax. I looked about ten times better, and would consider myself, quite the Casanova- as the Korean PA’s like to term me.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent shopping, and I ended up picking up a couple trifles here and there. As we wafted between the shops to and fro, I began to notice that I was being sucked into consumerism quickly. Even though it was not my money I was using, but the cash we received for teaching the English camp, I still had to say to myself that enough was enough, and I pocketed my remaining money, and kept it there.

We then went to see Inception. It is now ranked among my all time favorite movies. The message of the movie is quite unclear, and my team mate and I had a genial discussion pertaining to the existentialism that permeated throughout. It is curious that I bought," The Plague" by Albert Camus tonight, the grandfather of existentialism. During the movie, the lead character seems to be dominated by guilt, and oftentimes justifies his actions with his insurmountable guilt. I would argue that as they explained in the movie, that dreaming is a result of emotion, and guilt is too. Now if existentialism if based on the ideals of the individual, and free will, wouldn't that mean that ones future is determined by emotions? I would argue that our futures are not. If reality is what we make of it, and everyones reality is different, then is there even such a condition as reality? Reality is not imagined as it was in Inception, so though there are different perspectives on reality, real and fraudulent are entirely opposite entities. We cannot confuse our emotions and justification with reality. Emotions are no means in determining reality from fantasy, but merely a gauge or barometer, if you will, on our individualistic traits.

We went to a Korean 'singing room', which essentially is a room with five televisions in it, the lights off, and a disco ball where a group of friends entertain themselves by singing karaoke. After an hour and a half, costing only 10,000 won- nearly ten dollars- to occupy the room with fifteen sweaty adults, was well worth it. I had an absolute blast, and I would love it if they opened some of these peculiar entertainment facilities in the United States.I found that my voice was a but sore from the persistent yelling, screaming, and occasional singing that occurred. It was most definitely a night to remember.

Oftentimes a day of rest is all that one needs to recuperate and restart ones mental faculties, to be a more cognizant being in the subsequent days. I feel rested, and look forward to the last week I have in Korea.

August 6th- Pressure Cooker

Korea is a pressure cooker of sorts. It's like a clockmaker wound up the entire country, and then walked away, and let it run itself. Stress levels are increasingly high today, with the parents of the students coming in to watch a lesson. I am hoping that my students speeches eat up a a chunk of the time tonight.

The rain pounds harder and harder by the minute, slapping and slashing everything within sight. The tender hands of the clouds waste stampede on the roof like the hooves of horses. A sound like the shaking of a plastic bag. Nature clapping and applauding itself for the spectacle that a thunderstorm truly is. In my thoughts the synapses pulse and explode in florid colors, exposing the deeps alleyways of thought to the light, and the end result is more than frightening. I am seeing all of the inconsistencies in this country.

The rally was replaced last minute with a parent visitation and inspection of the classroom. I was terribly nervous. I just need a hiatus from the perpetual teaching and last minute planning. When we were preparing for this event there was most definitely a dash of animosity in the air. I spent the entirety of the afternoon preparing speeches with my students, and I felt as though their speeches were assembled.

The event went very smooth, and many of the parents approaching me and shook my hands- some even attempted having conversation with me. I father wearing very flamboyant black and white checkered dress pants made small talk with me. His son, Kim Bo Ram Chan is a very talented artist. In Korea the family name is said first. So in this case, his last name is Kim, and his first name would be Bo Ram Chan. It was enlightening to experience how respectful and gracious Korean parents are for their teachers. I opened the room up for questions, and the parents chuckled as if I was fickle or jesting. I entertained the thought that in America you would have parents talking and debating for hours. It was awesome teaching in front of the parents, it was stressful, but worth it even more.

August 5th- Crazy Hair

During class today I allowed my students adequate time to prepare their speeches, which they will be performing in front of their peers and parents on Friday. I caught news that they must memorize these, but I highly doubt they will be able to properly submit two minutes worth of a foreign language to memory, though like many other aspects in the classroom, I could be proven wrong.

Oh heavy burden of the cross! I thank thee Lord for your blood, those torrents of flesh torn from your bones. I have been ravished by sin, and yet you ransomed your skin for my smallest molecule, and still redeemed me clean. I will never repay those parched scarlet lips that tasted the vinegar infused wine, and Lord I want to drink from your pure presence. I am your slave for life, I am your slave, master. I can feel the splinters run up my spine like spiders, hang me next to you Lord. Nail me to your heart with iron nails, so that when you speak the Holy Name of God, I might hear his perfect still voice. I am a slave to you Jesus. I'd give everything to wash your feet with my bare hands.
This is a prayer I wrote, hope you enjoy it.

At the rally we had Weird Hair Night, where the students fashioned their hair, gelled it in abnormal angles, and sprayed it with seemingly endless quantities of chemicals. Some students did not want to have their hair fashioned, however, this was not their choice to decide. And in a true Republic, that is a Socialist community, one must conform to the ideals of the whole. As for artists, I see no escape for expression when the rights of the individual are sacrificed for the general well being of the populace. This ideal, whether it was openly versed among us or not, was at the core of our mob hunts for students who remained obstinate to our practices. Some squirmed, squiggled and fought their ways out of our grasps, but were eventually made to submit. Here are the post-mortem pictures of our victims after their hair was cruelly thrust into artistic angles. I am more than obliged to share these specimen with you. Enjoy








And here is your writer in all of his crazy haired glory

August 4th- In Korea, with a Canadian, poolside, well technically

Once again, teaching was strenuous like always today but a felicitous event was about to occur in the evening hours, long after the rigors of teaching were subsided. The persistent heat fettered us to anything with an air conditioner. The team had met this middle aged man named Stuart at Game Science High School, which was our first camp we taught. At five o'clock we were ushered to Stuarts apartment, or man cave, which just so happens to be a five minute drive from JeonJu Universities campus.


Staurts apartment is the defintion of what a man's, or rather, a wooer's apartment should entail. A piece of heaven was sliced from the husk of classy, and set in front of my eyes. There was a fish-tank gurgling and churning, filling the humble abode with an aquatic resonance. A 42' flat screen television glared out at the room with a vivid menace. Leather couches and sofas adorned the place, and traditional Korean decorations hung upon the walls.

As we were taken up onto the roof I heard a familiar splashing sound. This sound was not due to yet another grandiose fish-tank, but an inflatable pool situated on top of the apartment buildings roof. Apparently Stuart, who is Canadian, likes to go against the grain of what Korea is, and instead of using his space for an array of exotic plants, he instead chose to inflate a blue pool, buy an gas grill, and throw out some lawn chairs- to make it more like home. Along the horizon and adjacent to our building were rows, columns and more rows of colossal apartment complexes. I can just imagine a Korean family pressed up against their windows, looking like fishes, as nine Americans and a Canadian- possessing a pale white complexion- all splashed around in an already jumbo inflatable pool. Pink Floyd was blaring on tiny Ipod speakers, and the sizzling of meat was audible upon the entire roof. The afternoon was a bit ineffable, but this description will suffice.

As Stuart explained to me, Some times you must treat yourself, especially when you are in another culture, with the simple pleasures of home. This, as he further explained, is set in place in order for you to keep your sanity. It was a pleasant evening dinner on the rooftop, surrounded by insurmountable mountain ranges, dwarfed by the array of apartment towers. I love Home, and this trip is helping me to realize how truly amazing America is.

I direly miss home, and I am highly anticipating the moment I step off the plane, and breathe the air of my Home. America I miss thee.

August 3rd- Flour Power

I did not want to attend class at all today, nor was I enthused about teaching overactive children in any way, shape, or form. I trudged to class in the sweltering heat. Korea is situated on a natural peninsula called The Korean Peninsula, and from the vast array of mountain ranges - those being three major ones- the impregnable walls of stone act as an isolator, making Korea a living and breathing incubator. Home to wet and sticky heat, cloud covered skies with scorching heat and clouds that pillow in the sunlight and boil everything and anything that inhabits the peninsula. This is my daily reminder of where I am. Apparently the combined land mass size of South Korea and their counterpart North Korea is approximately the size of Minnesota. In essence the country is steamed with combined efforts of the mountain ranges and the perpetual cloud cover.

I must confess that my attitudes vary and are quite fragmented day to day. I am by no means a pessimist, though I am not quite an optimist, and possibly not even, Lord willing- in-between. As I arrived to class I knew that the afternoon was going to be bearable. I just as I had expected it was. The day flew by rapidly and we moved into the evening hours.

The rally was hysterical to say the least. We had the kids dive for pieces of bubble gum in pots filled to the brim with flour. As they emerged from their hunt, their faces were gaunt and extremely pallid. A fine powder floated down from their flour creased faces like snowflakes, striking a stark resemblance to ashes as they tumble in firefly-like sporadic jolts to the floor. Later in the evening, Eric ran up behind Dan with a bowl of flour- before Dan could act in resistance- he was covered in the sawdusty powder. I ran up to assist Dan and lend him aid in attempting to take vengeance on Eric, but Dan was swift to act and threw a a face-full at me.

Then it escalated. I, in my furious state hurled yet another pot full of flour at Eric, and having missed at least half of him, hit instead the vents by the glass windows. Then another pot was thrown, and soon we found ourselves in a winter wonderland. But this wonderland did not have snow, and indeed it was not in the North Pole either, but held more of a resemblance of a snow covered bakery. After the laughter ceased, we had a white room to mop up. In all honesty, the ten seconds of pleasure was more than worth the thirty minutes of clean up. The consequences were folly, and it was one of the most freeing experinces we've had the entire trip. I wish I could throw that flour, but ten-fold, at my students on most days. I guess caking two of my team members will have to suffice, at least for now.

The night is wet and humid, the two staples of Korea. I hope that tomorrow yields chillier fruit. I am learning that hope carries one through uncomfortableness. Two weeks remain, I hope that I last.

August 2nd- Korean Worship

The first day after the weekend is always a bummer, and today definitely felt like a Monday. It was just another day of teaching. As we left the rally I heard a familiar thumping of a kick pedal, and the phat bass slides that only a worship service could produce. I walked in through the glass door threshold and made my way into the service. I hesitantly peeked in and my first sight was literally hundreds of Korean youth with their hands outstretched toward the alter and many crouching on the ground crying out to heaven. God's presence was so thick. If I could describe the spiritual presence in regards to what water does to clothing, then the students in that lowly lit room would have been drenched. Soaked in a spiritual stream. It is so encouraging to see students just as on fire as they are in America. Praise be to God for the Korean church.

When asked about the array of cultural disparities among Korean culture and the culture of the west I would have to answer that there is a lot. To begin with, Koreans cannot stand it when one blows ones nose in a public place, or in front of elders for that matter, moreover, taking off ones shoes is an absolute must when entering a Korean living space. Here is a small list of little cultural trifles that may come in handy in the near future.

Here is a picture of a typical Korean Laundry mat- Essentially you just hang dry your clothes, which due to the humidity usually takes an entire afternoon. That being three to four hours. So the next time you attempt to do laundry, make sure your clothes are not blown asunder by an unruly breeze, and that they receive adequate sunlight.



Here is another picture of the typical towels that are utilized on a daily basis here in Korean. Large beach towels are atypical in this nation, possibly because the people are smaller than 'normal' functioning Anglo-Saxons.














In Korea, one must remove ones shoes before setting foot in their house. If you fail at remembering this cultural disparity, you will just about get scolded, and a communal gasp will sound throughout the entire complex, enough to make your hair stand on end, whimper, and send you off with your tail between your legs. So take off your shoes when entering a Korean residence.










Here are some suction cupped toothbrush holders. In a quaint bathroom, they make all the difference. Convenience with a suction cup.

August 1st- Desert Day

After attending church in the morning, and arriving with only fifteen minutes left due to faulty directions, I engaged in the doing of laundry. There are many different ways to spend a Sunday afternoon, sundry to say the least, and I spent mine cleaning clothes, and rambling thoughts. God has been revealing many things to me on this trip, and the primary one being patience. I am desperately striving to live my life, even in times of turmoil and hostility, above the reproach of the world. The demographics say I should feel deserted, abandoned and utterly defeated, but that is not the truth that I choose to hold my life to. The decrees of the world hold a malevolent grasp on my life, wherefore, to destroy.

I read James Joyce's fabled, "A Portrait of the artist as a young man", to further my enlightenment. Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam, which in latin means, "For the greater glory of God. I spent the rest of the afternoon with my nose in the dense pages of a book, and I began to read the book of Daniel. I wrote in my journal and spoke to Sarah on the computer. And right as five o'clock showed it's face, it was time to get ready for the day. If I particularized everything I did between dinner and my shaky enlightenment, it would be much too wordy. Dinner was the usual. At least I enjoy rice to some degree. I digress quite a bit. Now onto my evening.

During the gloaming we once again journeyed downtown and our Korean PA, Judy, who I termed, "Yoshi" showed us around the old fashion styled part of town. The houses stood with impregnable walls like fortresses, standing out, acting as a contrast to the modernized Korean world adjacent to them. Thinking this was merely a sporadic foray downtown, I neglected to bring my camera along for the ride. Along the walkway was a trickling stream bedded in a black marble. There was a handful of quaint shops lingering around the houses like silent shadows. Each one was filled with bustling visitors, most likely from out of town. We then made our way downtown to the shopping district. Until I experience the utter shopping power of Seoul, I will venture to say that my experience in meandering around the JeonJu shopping district was superlative. Our reluctant but self-appointed tour guide, Judy, led the way with here engulfing laughter. I truly enjoy in cultivating relationships with people, especially people of different races and nationalities.

We dined at a beautiful restaurant named, "The Asian Spoon". I leaned more toward the healthy side and ordered an Oriental Chicken salad, while two of the other guys order heaping platters of pasta to compliment their fruity smoothies. Posterior to are little dining experience we headed to Giordano, a trendy store that Judy recommended for my jean purchasing. Low and behold, I stumbled upon the exact pair of pants I was searching for, and fate had it they were marked down from 80,000 won to 30,000 won. Subsequently, we waited for our bus to arrive, and carry us back to our transient home. Sleep came quickly, and I was lost in a florid sea of sound and color, all meshing together to form a dream.

July 31st- Swimming!

Swimming pools in Korea are definitely interesting. We went to one today, and just as I had anticipated, it was shallow all the way around. But, despite the lackluster appearance, I had a ton of fun. We literally catapulted the students into the water, and I would just like to say that I got back at my overactive ones by throwing them over my shoulder into the chilly water. I fee like we are really getting to develop relationships with our students, which makes teaching all the more bearable. Aside from having a blast in the pool, we spent the night exchanging jokes with our Korean friends, Lee and Patrick- I use their American names for confusions sake- and it just so happens that they are completely hysterical.

Earlier on in the evening we took the city bus to Outback Steakhouse. I regret spending 25,000 won, an equivalent to about 20 USD on a steak. Sometimes a gentle rub from Americanized food helps you to focus and stay sane aside from the daily rations of Kim-chi and sticky rice. We found ourselves in the middle of a Korean hornets nest of designer shops and clothing stores, decked out with white lights, and trendy signs. Consumerism is ripe in this culture to say the least. When faith depletes, consumerist notions emerge. The bus system in Korea is spectacular, it is only 1,000 won to ride the bus practical anywhere, and juxtaposing that with a jolting taxi ride coming in around 20,000 won, I prefer the cheap route, and the metro transit experience as a whole. Just like any other city of 600,000 people, Jeonju has many different styles and looks. I saw two white people today and stared at them, it's amazing how accustomed i've become at just seeing asian faces, that the appearance of a white person almost startles me. Korea is predominately homogeneous society, with mostly Korean people residing there. So on a given day, I see Korean after Korea, and practically no other multiethnic people whatsoever.

The zeitgeist of Korea right now could be most positively defined as: luxuriously stagnant. Koreans are a hard working, intelligent bevy of people, dedicated to superiority in their studies, hard work on the side, and a dictum of progression. All the links in the chain connect when one throws in money, attributed to their incessant hard working ideology, and the emergence of designer ideals and Americanism into their culture. Everybody dresses classy. The Koreans make Americans look like slobs and unprofessional bandits. Nevertheless, depending on your persuasion toward formidable fashion, luxury is only a means to show how much you have accomplished. To me, this is all fleeting, however, to some, it is a lifestyle nonetheless. Koreans are classy, and aside from their streets being littered profusely, they are generally speaking, a kind people group. Though spending 200,000 won on a pair of Levis may seem a bit steep, they look good. And everybody wants to look good.

All in all today was a full, enriching day. I got to sleep in an hour extra, and I read an intriguing article about North Korea's soccer team being ignominiously mauled by their own countries media by their inefficient performance in the World Cup. I am eagerly awaiting the day when I can head home, but until then, I will be taking in the sights and sounds of Korea, and taking notes along the way.

Goodnight from Jeonju, South Korea
David

July 29th- The Trials of Teaching

Apart from being called ugly, big nosed and essentially ridiculed during class, my day was quite honestly from the pits of hell. If my heart were a stained glass window, it would have shattered into a slew of vibrant colors. I wish this metaphor was not fictional, because I would make my students walk barefoot across the mess they've created. I disciplined a student today, a young girl whose utter cuteness almost begs of you to let her get away with murder. This is a picture of her. Quite possibly the most adorable little girl ever, but looks are definitely deceiving. This little tiger has got a paw full of claws, and a bucketful of insolence. I made her stand in the hallway outside of the classroom and stare at the wall for an hour and a half. I wish I could feel pity for her, but I do not at this moment at all. My self-esteem was smacked hard on today, and it made me reconsider my career choice. But now that I have had some time to blow of steam and decompress, I have decided that there are flukes in just about everything, and jerks in even more, but it's my job to stay consistent amidst it all. This is the drawing they doodled on the board for me when I initially entered into the classroom. Ironically enough, the thoughtful sketch was done by who else than the little devil herself. This of course didn't assuage any of the pain she had caused prior to the art. I taught the rest of the afternoon reluctantly and found myself beginning to fade considerably early. I sit in my dorm room in JeonJu searching desperately for a dictum stating that committing two years here is worth it. The utter disrespect on my students part was just plain rude, however, I will move forward, and I hope to teach them more and more fluidly as the days progress.
Grudges don't pave roads, they burn bridges instead. I just hope that my students will begin to respect me as time rolls on, and before the team departs to Seoul in two weeks, I hope to have impacted at least one of their lives for the better.

Later in the evening we had a team get to together with the Korean Assistants and our team. We all shared pizza! I love pizza, and the fact that all I have been eating is rice, just adds to how much more I love pizza. It was an interesting experience sharing with the Koreans our lives and culture, and not to mention their outlook as well. It's amazing how similar we all are.

July 28th- 21st Birthday in JeonJu South Korea

I was quite taken by the amber sunlight that flooded through my dormitory window this morning. I let my aching, sleepy body linger in its warm light. As the honey hued floor boards were set shimmering with a golden glow, I arose in the silent breath of morning. The gentle hues of Northern Korea blew across the landscape, and I headed to class in a groggy state. Upon arriving I noticed that the lights in my room were not on. I eased into the darkness- and as I flicked on the light switch I heard a unison exclamation of, "Happy Birthday Teacher David!" Quite possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen occurred right in front of my very eyes. Three little girls threw notes in the folded guise of airplanes at my head. Only one or two of them made contact with me at all. It was the most precious birthday surprise I have ever seen or heard about. My students are absolute gems.

Class was the ritualistic set of methodically processes as it always is. I am finding it increasingly hard for myself to even find interest in the subject matter, let alone teach it creatively. I have no training in conventional teaching methods, so the application of proven methods is not relevant to me since I do not have the slightest idea of what those are. But the birthday cake that my students drew for me on the board, along with the curvy happy birthday wishes scrawled hastily sufficed just enough. After class I had a pleasant surprise. The Korean staff organized a birthday party for me as a suprise. So this was two surprise birthday fiestas. The first one was my class, and the second was in the guise of a staff meeting. The cake I received from the Korean staff was brought up to Amanda my fellow teacher's room on the eighteenth floor of the complex for our nightly devotions as a team. I originally felt a bit melancholy due to my circumstances, those being, the fact that I am overseas, and not with my loved ones. I also signed a contracted stating that no alcohol is to be drank while I'm sojourning here. Obligatorily, I am under no convictions, however I must feign as though I am on this trip. My stance toward alcoholic beverages is a bit lax in the light of others on my team.

As the light began to wan, and elongated shadows stretched their weary arms across the obsidian pavement, a gentle prick of sunlight brushed it's lips across the horizon, and clouds jettied the whimsical darkness from approaching too quickly. My team took me out to pizza, and I had my fill of American food. Homely foods are a solace when traveling abroad, and quite honestly helps you keep your sanity. My team members treated me with geniality and warmth, and though nothing can compensate for the tenderness of my family and friends back home, my team did a very good job at sating my anxiety with love. Though I did not feel at all dolorous during the course of the day, I still at this moment am feeling the tinge of homesickness.

Although there is no immediate remedy for acute homesickness, I still had an awesome 21st birthday. And even though I can not consume any alcoholic beverages- at the moment- when I find myself at home, drinks are on me.

Cheers from JeonJu, South Korea,
your finally of age writer,
David

July 27th- JeonJu English Camp

It was an extremely hot and humid day outside today. The utter monotony of life as an English teacher is beginning to catch up to me. I have decided that I will pursue a righteous attitude that stands above reproach, no matter what. The classroom was more responsive than normal, however, headaches have still occurred. At the end of the day I feel exhausted and drained of all my energy. Though my mental faculties are nonexistent by the end of the day, I still remain optimistic. South Korea is culturally heavy, but with a little but of laughter, homesickness can by assuaged for at least a little while longer.

Here is a poem I just wrote about my Father
Childhood

I would lay awake
as a child, drifting
in and out of dreams-

Those silk threads spinning
in a tapestry of colors
and dreams newly birthed-

My infant heart kept time
with the steady pulse of
my Father's snoring-

Resounding through the wooden
beams of our home, and
within my child-like bones

was a pledge of sanctuary,
where dreams were havens
and sound a solace.

I now sleep with a fan, and
whether it's the subtle purr
of a whirring turbine

that shuts my heavy eyes
night by night, I will
never know-

But every night I hear
his grumbling odes of
protection, the impregnable

strength of his arms, and
the reassuring light
in his brown eyes-

While the blade slices the
heavy air, I hear melodies
spinning eager threads

about my mind, and I ease
into sleep, surrendering to
sound one more time.

July 26th- A Journal Entry

Aldous Huxley wrote this about intellectualism, "An intellectual is a person who's found one thing more interesting than sex." I could not agree more. But isn't the Christian lifestyle supposed to be in the same category? If I simply replaced the adjective, "intellectual" with the adjective and action-verb, "Christian", it would read like so, "A Christian is a person who's found one thing more interesting than sex."

We as Christians are called to live a pure and unstained life, ignorant if you will, of the corroding evils of society. To remain unblemished in the sight of God. I used to desire intellectualism for intellectualism's sake, now, I desire to be an intellectual grafted in with the skin of Christ. The difference is not great, the pain still burdening, but the results all the more rewarding.

cheers,
David

July 26th- WanJu English Camp

Started the afternoon with a cultural clash, not the best way to commence a new English camp. My blog is nascent, and showing signs of maturity, though a thorough proofreading is in order. My morning started off with sweat, as the A/C is turned off at around seven am. The Opening Ceremony was primarily spoken in Korean, so I just sat and listened to line after line of syllables align themselves like a DNA strand and go in one ear and quickly out the other. But what was rather daft of me is that I did not dress up for the ceremony. I did not receive the memo. Upon arriving I, and Josh, were asked to go and promptly change. Quite honestly, this surprised me, because in my mind I was looking good, whether I was sporting sandals or not. Scott had to race Josh and myself across campus to the dormitory to grab a change of clothes. I went in looking like a train wreck, and came out looking rather suave, I say all this without the slightest hint of pretentiousness. We were greeted by warm smiles and clapping, and whether they were in jest or not, I have yet to determine.

After my mishap, the afternoon commenced quite smoothly, and I was in my classroom by three. My class is filled with precious kids, who have seemed to respect me. We played a couple of games and I soon left the bevy of starry eyed students, and made down the hill in the blinding Korean sunlight. The sun was incredibly bright, scorching, and eating away at my skin with tiny mouthfuls of light. I had a couple of minutes to collect my thoughts and wait until the rally. The rally was superb, thereafter, the team and myself had a spontaneous dance. We cranked old nineties tunes and let our bodies groove- with the lights on, mind you. The night assisted in turning my attitude from pessimism toward optimism, and that has and will make all the difference in the outcome of the remainder of my trip.

My evening at WanJu English camp was spectacular. We played a version of rock-paper-scissors, where giants beat wizards, and wizards beat elves, but elves, being the sly little creatures that they are known to be, beat the giants. They do not accomplish this task by mere brute force, but rather with a tactical array of oppositional strategies. Both teams would dash toward each other and present their character, the loser would them sprint back to their wall, hoping not to get tagged. While we were in the propinquity of a work out station which was conveniently alfresco. I stripped down to my boxers along with two of the guys on my team and began the work out. We did an amalgam of workouts, including, push-ups, sit-ups, and a mix of other things. I got my workout in and headed back to the room.

I sit here in my extremely Air-conditioned room in a state of tranquility. I am reluctant to start the day tomorrow at eight am. Goodnight from JeonJu, South Korea

-David

July 24- 25th- JeonJu and Iksan English Camp

We travelled from Jeonju to church today in Iksan, and the forty minute commute did not seem at all like it was forty minutes. I know that you, my audience, are experiencing this trip to Korea vicariously, and possibly even skirting around the bulk of the text, but know that my intensions are to give you an accurate portrayal of what I am experiencing, whether that be by describing- in detail- my incessant headaches, nausea, frustration and/or joy. Teaching through a language barrier, and navigating young minds with gesticulations is not the easiest, or most pretty way of doing things. But I have learned to love it nonetheless. My Korean Assistant Mariane. Seeing kids faces light up with a warm glow is enough to fall in love with the pain, and push forward into excellence. Sometimes God isolates you, and you begin to feel lonely, but through those trying circumstances He is perfecting you. My team member Dan said it to me quite elegantly- that one should count it as a blessing that Jesus is stretching you in that way, and that when times get tough, you can do nothing else but lean on Him who comforts you- and I would have to agree completely.

Teaching is a stretching endeavor, complete with nuts, quarks, quirks and drama. If sarcasm wasn't such a vast chunk of my character, I would have probably hung up the towel by now. stream of conscience: The word Trowel is a beautiful word. I cannot find a particular usage for the word trowel at the moment, therefore, I will leave it be. But for future reference the word means, "a small hand-held tool with a flat, pointed blade, used to apply and spread mortar or plaster." I am occasionally quite tangential. My erratic mind assists me in keeping sanity- and sanity is whatever you deem it to be- in the classroom. We wrapped up the ceremonies in Iksan with a bucketful of smiles and a handful of laughter. I didn't see the night sky on the 24th, but I'm sure the stars were welling up like tears in thick black eyes of Southeast Asia.

I had to discipline more students, and though I saw many tear filled eyes of rebuked adolescent decadency I took no pity. It is quite difficult to teach when the noise in the room overweighs the voice in my head that has a calculated method of progress. Progress has met absolute regression. The rally was ill-planned and ill-coordinated, notwithstanding, we trudged forward, and my class preformed the song, "God is so Good". We also had the skit of the Fiery Furnace as well, whereupon, we scrapped it last minute. I was kind of bummed because it was a purely original script written by me. Life moves on I guess, and so do TEFL teachers. I was surprised at the sheer amount of parents, namely mothers, that approached my genially afterward. They all had beaming smiles and wore a positive countenance. I snapped picture after picture with my students, who were mostly 5th graders. I even received a gift basket from an amiable mother, complete with chocolate, plastic Korean statues and a note folded with the precision of origami. This note was from my student Ho San, who just so happened to be the drummer for the song. I parted with my students, and made the forty minute commute back to JeonJu to commence the WanJu English Camp.

Sunday was like every other Sunday. I got up -waited for the bus- which is almost always at least thirty minutes behind schedule, and went to church. I preformed with my team member Christy, Phil Wickham's, "True Love". We played decently for having no practice, which is a Korean cultural disparity to American culture, and then afterwards waited for our bus again. Soon we found that the driver was fast asleep the back seat, so with a bit of hesitation, I opened the passenger door and startled him. In about three minutes we were on our way to JeonJu University.

The night ended quietly, with the A/C blowing chilly tufts of air into the moisture ridden air. First day of teaching at WanJu English camp in the morning.
Goodnight from JeonJu, South Korea,
Your humble writer, and avid stone thrower,
David

July 23rd- Teaching is Taxing

The days feel as though they are getting shorter, and my gaze is cast home towards the West. I have never been to the East before, and Eastern thought, and patterns of life are ultimately impossible to understand and gauge in just five weeks. I would never raise a family in South Korea- Lord willing. The trek down the mountain was laborious, even though it was just idling on a bus. Once we arrived we were thrown into the classroom unprepared once again, however, I do feel the lack of preparation is stretching my mind in new directions, and the territorial bounds of my creative facets are constantly being pusheqd forward. I look at my mind as an elastic band, it can bend, stretch, and be molded into about any position, but there comes a point when my mind becomes slack and saggy, and I feel that that moment is approaching quickly. We have only one more day of English camp in Iksan, and then we’re off to JeonJu to wrap up the last three weeks of the trip. I am missing home terribly, but the opportunities melodies sing much louder than the sorrow of my heart, for the time being. My aversion towards bratty children has grown even stronger during this trip- what usually is sequestered- has become vivid, and shown in my actions, I am sick of kids.
Today, like many other the days, I had to discipline my students. Today was not like any of the other days, because I took it to the next level. I clicked my patience one notch higher, and waited for my students to practically demand correction. Instead of leaving them with Eric, I took them down the hall a couple more classrooms to Dan. Dan had expressed interest in my disciplining practices and was keen to experience the corrective joy firsthand. The first victim came back balling; the second wouldn’t talk the rest of the afternoon, and the third simply shriveled up within ten seconds of being confronted. There is a sick pleasure that manifests itself on you when you are given authority, and I would argue that I am not twisting or conforming the ideal of discipline to a manic maniac state, but on the contrary, given no other mediums in which to correct. Shame is the best tool to pry out pride.
We held a rally for the students and preformed for them. Seeing joy exude itself upon children is such a simple pleasure.

July 22nd- Kids are Crazy

I would be faux if I said I was not at all worn down from my incessant teaching and yelling at children. My students are the definition of petulance. For some odd reason i did not think that breakfast was a necessity for teaching this morning, or that I needed sustenance at all. Seven am comes early when you are sharing a bed with another man. Being torn from a most pleasant dream about home, I was crudely awoken with a urgent knocking at the door. It was the we are leaving in ten minutes warning. I darted out of bed and into the shower, sprayed myself with a tepid stream of water, and scurried to the bus. Upon walking outside, I saw no bus in sight. Either my peripheral vision had gone temporarily askew, or there was no bus. As it turns out the bus had gotten sucked into a puddle of mud about a half mile down the mountain rode. So I clipped on my Dakine pack tightly, and grabbed a child’s hand and began the bounding descent. We strutted through backyards, where peoples lives were on display like an open heart surgery, exposing the inner organs of their backyard lives. When I glimpsed the bus, I knew we were in for trouble. Mud licked the wimpy wheels, and swallowed a row of tires. These buses tires are the antithesis of teeth, if any fierceness was in this bus, it vanished long ago. After a ten minutes struggle, we wrenched the bus loose from the iron grips of the earth, and de –rooted it from the mouth of the ground. Murky water squirted out of the gaping holes like blood after a root canal. Soon we had the bus completely turned around, and we were on our way down the mountain once again. Our direction was Iksan once again, another day of teaching lay ahead.

Once we arrived in Iksan, we headed right to the teachers room to begin planning for our lessons. My kids are diabolical- exaggeration is not to be employed- they literally are little Korean monsters. I have decided to not let their cuteness fog my judgment on them. An aberration at this juncture would most likely mean the collapse of my mental faculties, so in short, I have become frank with them, discipline will be the normality in my classroom. Any conscientiousness I did possess has slowly begun to slip away. However, I am not the juggernaut of discipline, but merely a disciple of order. Once a student steps out of line- with a minimal medium of excepted degeneracy, then I take the petulant child to my co-teacher Eric Billstone, whereupon, his punishment is implemented.

Like every normal Korean classroom, polarization occurs almost immediately, and verbal insults are slung from every which way, and then if luck has it, fists are jolted across the room, and the smacking of skin almost becomes incessant. Representing my state ordained position as teacher, I have the distinct opportunity to serve the state with the adjudicatory prowess, and that being, and not limited to- the immediate installment of discipline. Tears flowed like an unquenchable spring, sobs broke the lessons fluctuations, but order remained. And if asked, I would sacrifice the life of a child in order to instill discipline- all in the holy name of the state, of course. Indeed, this seems a bit rash, and a bit totalitarian, but sacrifice is inevitable in the states good name, and life is but a sacrament of the ritualistic order of control. I say this in jest of course. Discipline is just the subsequent reminder, that as a teacher, one has to keep order for the students to learn.

July 21st Cultural Disparities

The day started off in a haze. I shared a bed with one of the guys on a trip- purely platonic- I assure you. It was either get a little bit close, or sleep on the grimy floor. And from what I heard, was that English teachers don’t necessarily sleep on the floor. We drove back down the mountain from the Retreat Center toward Iksan, where the English camp was being held. And like always in Korea, we were tardy. Classes came much too soon.
I introduced myself to my class of twelve students and had them make a Team sign. I have begun to implement discipline into the classroom to keep them under control. I had a student wall sit for thirty seconds to teach him not to trash talk his teacher. Even though my teaching started out with a slight hiccup from a reluctant student, we pressed forward and created the sign. Our team name ended up being, “the Silly snakes”/. We then proceeded to the games, which conviently there was a microphone handy, and I used my low baritone voice to speak into.

Cultural Clash- Korean culture is very different from American culture. And though there may be vivid differences, it is most evident in myself. Since I am studying English Literature and western thought portrayed within major works, my thought processes are doused with western ideologies. I find myself not truly desiring to adapt or blend in the culture, since tolerance must be felt on both sides. Headaches are the new normal during the day trying to silence my western spirit, and replaced it with the repressive Eastern mysticism. I do not think I will ever shake my western core ideologies, and quite honestly, I am not sympathetic towards a culture that still believes blowing ones nose in public is disgraceful. If the prefix dis, is stable onto disgraceful, then they should allocate some amount of grace towards my undesire to adapt to every inch of their archaic standards. I realize fully the implications of this speech, and the weight that hangs above my shoulders on acting according to tradition, however, I am a westerner, and no guise will ever truly veil the luminescence that is true. Whether I am stubborn or calloused is irrelevant, what is relevant is my relevance toward myself, and my beliefs. Transparency begets truth, and adaptation obscures it. Not to mention my partiality towards the writings of the great minds of western culture. The value of the individual over the whole I am piously western. And until proven obstinate through Eastern facets, I will remain.

The night at the retreat center is comfortable. After a tactical assault on the students with pillows, the teachers and myself were puckered out. I am in love with children and serving their needs. We had “shower time” with the kids tonight, where we would yelp at high decibels until they all ran headlong into the steaming showers that awaited their anxious skin. I love being a teacher, and through that intrinsic love, I hope above all things to change the lives of children for the better

July 20th- English Camp

I love kids. We commenced our Christian English Camp today with a record breaking 103 students in attendance. And like kids, they wore me out. My whole body feels as though it may be in disrepair. A back massage is in direly needed.

July 20th- You never Know

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July 19th- Fear Factor

Sometimes when the utter monotony of missions-trip life equates itself with lethargy, one feels useless and dreary. Today was one of those times. We started the day with an epic breakfast at our Host home in Iksan, then afterwards made for the church for a pre-camp briefing and strategizing attempt. Our synergies were not in-tune at all. I found myself loping about here and there, drifting in and out of whirls of daydreams. This was a nonproductive day- that the Koreans are used to- but that the inner American within me detests beyond all detestable things. Lunch was supposed to be a haven, a solace if you will, but instead I found my nostrils plugged with the smell of a bird genocide.

We toured Koreas largest factory, and what they produce is a consumer favorite. And that is chicken. A fetor as I have never experienced hung in thick clouds in the prison like halls of the factory. After seeing the slaughterhouse we nestled into a dinning room and awaited the product. Splattered across the table lay multitudinous forms of chicken. I prided myself in eating, not one, but two chicken feet. A gelatin type of texture lathered with a spicy sauce. Absolutely disgusting. Then onto the second grossest and most grotesque, the fish eyes. These were a bit salty, but still gross if the logistics are presented. this was my afternoon.

Later in the evening we explored downtown Iksan. It reminded me of every other shopping district in the world. Where consumerism is the veil, and clothing the pall.Above: Iksan, South Korea. Beautiful lights scribbled across billboards, and shop lights glow with a vivid zeal.

July 18th- Money Money Money

Looks are quite decieving. The Korean Won is 1,200 to 1 USD. So, instead of having a monetary sum of 16,000 USD, instead it's about 14 dollars. At least the colors are cool!

July 18th- Mega Church

Though today was not as intense as it has been as of late, I still managed to get sleepy. We went to the English service early in the morning. Scott, our trip coordinator spoke about 'open doors'. I think he hit the message right on. After the service Josh, Amanda and myself went to worship practice to prepare for next sunday. After procuring a guitar for me, the Korean team, our American team, along with a Mongolian and Chilean, all played worship songs from my childhood. I played the guitar, and noticed how special it was that we were all there at one moment, ordained and anointed by God to worship together in Iksan South Korea. I found myself getting quite confused with the language barrier, but eventually the music all began to gel, and we were worshipping together in the shared language of English.

Later that evening we were asked to sing at the Night service. I expected around fifty people, or less to attend. The team with the eight hours of free time we were allotted practiced in the chapel for about forty five minutes. As we arrived I took in the lush sanctuary, the elongated stage, and the rows of endless lines of chairs. The only would that comes to mind for describing this place is, grandeur. It ended up that the service was approximately 500 people, but though nerves temporarily paralyzed me, we sang with quality behind our trembling voices, and listening to a recording, I am proud to say that we all were on key despite our lack of vocal inculcation. I have grown up preforming in front of large quantities of people, but just to have the chance to perform, though last minute, in front of a foreign audience was rather humbling.

God is seriously blessing our trip immensely. I cannot even fathom the plans and surprises that He has concocted already and is awaiting to spill onto us.

We drove back to our host home and had a brief foray at the Korean grocery store and the famous Paris Baguette. Our host home is so generous. I want to be lavish as they are on my future guests.

Today was a good day.

Cheers from Iksan, South Korea,
David

July 17th- Korean Living

Besides the fact that it was an extremely humid day in Korea, I have been feeling quite ill. I woke up with a tremendous cough, and almost threw up after lunch. But now as I am writing, I feel quite well. We started the day off with a bittersweet last two hours of teaching, which went very well. I got my students started with facebook, and taught them how to network. Americanism in a Korean school is the last thing the world needs to see, or adapt to. Above is a picture of my students and myself. The day consisted of teaching my lethargic students. Here are a couple of pictures of what the class room looks like, and most importantly, my students. Their smiles are very contagious, and their laughter even warmer. I already miss my students and desire greatly to return to Game Science High School and teach a second time. The closing ceremony was not nearly as despondent as I first believed it was going to be, but on the contrary was uplifting and affirming in the context of embracing my students one last time. Most of them were ranging in age from about seventeen to eighteen years old. But what is rather queer about them is how they act. It was an odd amalgam of immaturity with respect. I have never experienced a phenomenon quite like it. Parting was not hard, whereupon, I miss them greatly. Parting is like the silent footsteps of early morning, growing strong with the ensuing day. Tonight I greatly miss them.

However, every ending is merely the catalyst toward a new beginning. We made for Iksan, South Korea- a more traditional version of JeonJu- with the intention of teaching, but like all teachers, at some point in their path they are the ones being taught. Our time in Iksan started off with a tour of a church of 5,000. This place was ridiculous. It was luxuriant without pretension. Practically bleeding of outreach. I think I counted nearly 4 or 5 new grand pianos, and in addition of being colossal size, it was complete with two choir rehearsal rooms, a radio station, and a plethora of other trinkets. But what is even more phantasmagorical is the fact that Christy and I were asked to play at the night service. I hope that Phil Wickham has a song that will save our lives! Afterward made a short drive through the city to Korean style housing. a elongated tower stretching stoically into the sky. The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor and we then proceeded to enter an actual Korean household.

Upon entering we quickly noticed the globs of sandals, slippers and shoes that lay scattered like broken bottles across the welcome mat. A glass sliding door lay half open, giving us a sliver of a glimpse into the apartment. A lengthy leather couch stretched lazily across the opposing wall of the quaint room. Adjacent to the living room space- tiled with wooden panels- is the bathroom. I will upload a picture of a typical Korean style bathroom. Instead of having two separate entities of a washroom and a bathroom, they are conveniently combined. There is no tub, instead, however, there is a movable shower-head. Korean culture honestly has no time or need for a lazy bath, and plus, the languorous air would make them miss an important Korean soap opera, which is playing as I am writing. We dined at a fancy Italian restaurant, and returned within an hour or two.Above: View from window in our host home.
I cannot stress more vehemently how hospitable the family we stayed with was. They epitomized Korean-style hospitality, a shattered any apprehension that loomed in our minds about our well-being as we munched on prunes, mulberry juice, and almonds. Not being like the U.S, it is not queer to be living with your parents well into your twenties, and possibly into your thirties. The brother, who was well into grad school was a comfortable twenty eight years of age. In addition, the grandmother also lived with the family. Soon after our arrival, they were terming us their children, and we termed them our parents. We were treated like kings at our home stay, and if I had the opportunity to do it all over again, I would unequivocally do it.

When we returned, our host family had a bible study. We sat cross legged on the living room floor and read through 2 Samuel 24, in its entirety. Amazing Grace resounded throughout the humble living area and then was followed up by a repetitive phrase of, "Jesus is Lord" three times over. I want my household to look similar, in the respects of everyone in the family being barefoot, and of course having a bible study as a mandatory engagement nightly.

The brother, whom consequently from our sojourn, was giving up his room. He added me on facebook and wrote me a message exclaiming, "Good Night brother". This is just more reason why I love Korea. Family is family, and there is nothing more to be said about that.

Good Night from Iksan, South Korea,

Your homely writer David

July 14th- Mighty Music

Today was an excellent day of teaching. As odd as it may sound, I am actually getting the hang of this teaching stuff. We taught music today.

July 16th- Korean Pop Sensations

Today was a full day of teaching, which left me extremely tired. We played hockey in the rain while in the mountains of Jeonju. It was the most incredible experience I have ever had.
Later in the evening we did a karaoke contest. The Korean students have so much natural talent in so many different areas. They are such beautiful children. I ended up having to sing the song you found me, and then dance to a techno version of canon in D. The kids get insane after just a little while. I have found that I’ve begun to speak slower, even to my fellow teachers, and whether or not that is a good thing is yet to be determined.

Tonight we went up to a restaurant in the mountains and had dongdongju, which is a traditional Korean drink. The president of the highschool pulled up in a promenade of vehicles, and it felt as if we were being escorted by the mafia. I am still at awe at how respected we are here as opposed to American schools. Also, the fact that alcohol is such a taboo in Christen circles is off. It was a sweet tasting drink, I could see myself drinking this again. Our ride up the mountain was spent in a Jaguar. I felt like an underground, Mafia-esq teacher. Our teams comradory is burgeoning by the day, and I truly hope that we remain welded together, even through hardships. This was the easiest day of teaching yet, I am falling in love with my students , and the personalities that accompany their faces. I hope that next year I will have another opportunity to possibly serve them again, and/or their institution. My sleeping quarters are adequate, but slightly uncomfortable, however, I am blessed to even be sleeping on a bed. I am falling in love with Korea.

With much love your humble writer,
David