This is my last day in Korea, and I may never be back. I know I thought that the last time I left, and returned just 2 months later. However, I have a feeling this departure is more permanent.
I just reread my blog post from the last time I left Korea, and I don't want to repeat any of that in this blog. I still feel that everything I said then was valid and relevant, and I don't have a lot of new perspectives to add about Korea.
I will start this post by describing Korea using the five senses so you can get a better idea of what life is like here.
Korea has some funky smells, and often they hit you without warning. Common is the odor of sewage that wafts through city streets and lets itself into shops and restaurants, slapping you across the face. Also common is the smell of fish, raw or cooked, and never pleasant. Though, one can usually predict that smell since you would need to be near a fish market or restaurant to smell that odor. Summertime is particularly unfortunate for anyone riding in a cab, as most cab drivers are combining their year-round bad breath odor with their summertime B.O. Windows down, please! For a short window of time, the cherry blossoms bloom in early spring, releasing their most pleasant fragrance into the breeze.
Sounds vary from place to place of course. If you walk into a mini mart, the door will play a happy little tune like "It's a Small World". The school bells aren't annoying screeching sounds. Instead, they are also catchy tunes like "Home, Home on the Range" (because all kids feel at home when they're at school!). There is always the pounding of construction to be heard in most neighborhoods of Pohang as they continue to develop the land. At night, I was often serenaded by cats fighting or cats in heat. On occasion, a young man will be walking and singing some hip tune, or an older woman will be hiking and singing a Korean folk song. Cell phone stores love to blast K-Pop music, while cars don't blast any music. Older men and women pushing cheap food carts yell through megaphones something in Korean, usually saying, "I have oranges! I have oranges!" And it wouldn't be Korea if you didn't hear "Gangnam Style" on a frequent basis.
I have tasted a lot of garlic, sweet potato, rice, cabbage, beef, chicken, pork, eggs, spicy sauces, soups, dumplings, ramen, seaweed, bulgogi, cheap donuts, terrible cake, anything and everything made out of rice, weird parts of animals that you just have to close your eyes and swallow, and of course kimchi.
I have felt a thousand children's hands, a lot of sand between my tows, a lot of people pushing past me, my legs cramping up while sitting on restaurant floors, chopsticks in my hands, and mosquitos in my ears.
I have seen millions of people consumed by their smart phones, countless couples wearing matching outfits, people dressed in animal costumes (myself included), elderly ladies who are permanently bent forward, men holding hands, people making the peace sign for photos, people forming hearts with their hands for photos, taxis everywhere, coffee shops on every block, Hyundai and Kia, cell phone shops on every block, young ladies dancing outside of cell phone shops, men stumbling drunkenly down the road, dragonflies, praying mantises, magpies, crowded fish tanks with the ugliest fish I've ever seen, octopus tanks, and small dogs with dyed fur.
People keep asking me how I am feeling as my time here is winding down. And quite frankly, I feel fine. I am not too sad to leave Korea, though I will miss my friends. I am excited to come home, see my family, friends, and dog, and to eat some wonderful food that Korea is missing out on. I can't say if there are things I've learned from Korea, or if I have changed much because of Korea. I think if I have, I will notice once I've left and immersed myself back in my own culture. I guess I can say for certain that I have become more adventurous from this experience, more comfortable in foreign situations, and hopefully a better teacher.
It's also hard for me to predict what I will miss, but I do know what I will cherish. Obviously the memories of all the fun I had, and the memories of my students, my friends, and the memories of building an amazing relationship with my girlfriend, Mary. But I will also cherish the small relationships I built with Koreans in my community, people like the owner of the local bakery who one day handed me his guitar, opened up a sheet music book to "Let it Be", and asked me to play; or Choi Ju Won, the somewhat mentally challenged gas station attendant who pumped my gas every week and was always excited to see me and tell me all the foreigners he knew; or Tailor Joe, who, creepy as he may be, does great tailor work, provided me with four beautiful silk robes for my family, and is a really decent guy; or Bede, my favorite barista at my favorite coffee shop who always remembered my drink and often gave me free oreos; or the art teachers I gave English conversation classes to, and particularly our class discussion on broken hearts when most of the class told their saddest personal stories; or Tom, one of those art teachers, who I had coffee with one night while conversing about religion, philosophy, and music; or the lady at the little diner near my work who always smiled at me the way a mother smiles at her boy; or the man who owned the little market, and although we could not share a word with each other, we both always seemed to share a general happiness to see each other; or the men at the climbing gym who would occasionally help me improve my form, even though they spoke no English.
I've had a hell of an experience here these last 18 months. But as incredible as it's been, I do feel very ready to move on to the next chapter. In 24 hours I will fly back to the States where I will spend a month and a half seeing friends and family. Then, I will fly to Peru where I will meet up with my girlfriend and we will embark on our next big adventure. We don't have much planned while we're there, just to travel, volunteer, and find some work. It will be very improvisational, which would have scared me 2 years ago, but now I feel pretty comfortable with.
So that's it. Goodbye Korea. Hello America, then South America! I guess I will have to rename my blog to "Teaching, Learning, and Other Adventures in the World".
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
"The celebration of life, rather than the contemplation of ending it."
You may or may not be aware that I have taken part in a recently formed "organization" in Pohang called Salja. Last fall, my parents, in their infinite wisdom, said that although they were happy that I was having so much fun out here, asked if there a way I can give back to the community. And that's all they needed to say for me to realize that I very well could be spending some of my time serving Korea, a country that has given me so much fun, so many adventures, so many new perspectives. Mary and I discussed this, and pondered what a good cause would be to serve in Korea. Poverty is not really a problem here, nor is crime, or drugs, or unaffordable health care. But one thing that is a major problem in this country, one that we teachers are especially concerned with, is suicide. Korea has one of the highest, if not the highest, suicide rate in the world. It's the leading cause of death for Koreans under the age of 40, but is really a problem for any age group. This was a cause Mary and I could get on board with.
We knew that some foreigners held a few discussions last summer to address the suicide problem here, so we contacted them to find out if anything was followed through with their discussions. It turned out that a few of them decided to make a group called Salja, which is Korean for "let's live". Since nobody in the group is a trained professional in suicide prevention, the goal is not to intervene with people personally in their contemplation of suicide. Rather, the goal is to spread messages of celebrating life and spread hope that it's worth hanging on and finding out what more life has to offer. Furthermore, Salja aims to spark a much needed conversation in Korea about why the suicide rate is so high, and encourage the country to be proactive about this problem. So Mary and I decided to spend the rest of our time in Korea helping out Salja and doing what we could to get this organization off the ground and to spread its messages.
We entered this group when it was very young, and it only had so much as a mission statement and a website (www.salja-korea.com). So clearly there was not a lot of momentum built yet. Furthermore, the few members the group did have, as well as Mary and I, were all leaving Korea at the end of winter. So we knew we had only a few months to get the ball rolling, build some momentum, and get Salja's name and message out in the open.
We began with the production of a very low-budget film (and by low-budget I mean no-budget!) called Tomorrow is Worth It. We interviewed various friends, both Korean and foreign, asking these three questions: Why is tomorrow worth it? Have you ever felt that tomorrow wasn't worth it? What was the last thing that made you smile?
Our inspiration for this video was the "It Gets Better" series of youtube videos that were made in response to the high number of gay suicides in America a couple years back. We wanted to spread a similar message to Koreans, particularly Korean youths, to say that although times are hard now, tomorrow is worth it. Don't give up. After seeing so many inspirational videos go viral on youtube, we figured it doesn't hurt to try to make our own videos to spread to the world! Maybe they'll go viral as well, or maybe just one person will watch and be inspired. Either way, it's worth the effort.
Since I had the free time and technological know-how, I edited the whole film. It was quite a process getting it made, and took us about 3 months. But we finally finished and are so happy to get it out to the public! And if you care to watch (it's about 11 minutes long), click the link below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyX-h9wfdbg
We have also made a few other videos, including a short introduction to who Salja is and what we do, and I also made a video of my own personal message to appreciate the beauty that can always be found around us. To view those videos (both only a few minutes long), click the links below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFyzaT_vRRM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8BPuAIiAC4
The group leader had a great idea to get Salja's name and purpose out to the public in Korea. On a few different occasions, a group of us went to a busy shopping area in town and gave out free hugs to anyone who wanted one. Oh, and we dressed in cute animal costumes as well! Anyone who got a hug received a small flier informing them about Salja. In one day, we handed out 400 fliers. Although we know giving hugs won't stop someone from committing suicide, or give our group huge PR, we at least started getting our name out there, and we spread a little joy to people, which is what we're all about!
After a few months, we had created three videos, gave out free hugs, started getting our name out in the open, and held a few smaller events. But time was running out and soon the group members were leaving Korea. We tried very hard to tell everyone we knew about Salja to invite people to join the group and keep it going after we left. But much to our disappointment, we received very little interest from people. Some people have legitimate schedule conflicts, but we knew there were still plenty of people who had the time to help, and frankly we thought all teachers would be willing to get on board with a cause like this. It has been disappointing to see such little interest from a community that has tons of fun, but doesn't take much time to give back. Luckily, a few friends of ours have taken an interest in keeping Salja going after we leave, so we know the flame will live on. Our group leader was also able to get Salja chapters started in Busan and Daegu, so it was encouraging to know that even if Salja ended in Pohang, it would carry on in two bigger cities.
It's fascinating how Koreans are well aware of this suicide epidemic in their country, and they know why it exists. But it's something nobody wishes to discuss. For instance, last night in an adult conversation class I was teaching, we were talking about what makes each of us happy. We had been having a wonderful conversation, everyone participated and shared and we had over an hour of nonstop talking. I then asked the question, "Do you think Korea is a happy country?" To which they replied that it is not. I then segued to the question about Korea's suicide rate, asking if it's talked about much, or if the government is trying to be proactive about it. And the crowd went... silent. For the first and only time in the 90 minute class, nobody had anything to say. They nodded their heads in acknowledgement of Korea's high suicide rate. They nodded their head when I asked if it's something ignored in this country. And they themselves seemed to want to ignore it. It's almost as if the people know it's a problem, but solving it would cause more damage than is worth, so they would rather sweep it under the rug.
It is clear, and well-known, that the bulk of Korea's suicide problem is due to the high stress and pressure put on students and workers. The level of competition is unprecedented because they have a small country with many people and no resources. The people and their minds are Korea's resource. So it's a race to the top, the ultimate contest to not just be one of the best, but THE best. I have had students score second-highest on city wide exams and still face disappointment from their parents because they were not #1. Workers are killing themselves (metaphorically) at jobs working 12-15 hours a day, often on weekends as well, in a constant state of stress, in order to work their way up the ladder. But when I ask some of these workers if their job will become less stressful once they are promoted, they answer that it will always be stressful. But they put themselves through this torture to make enough money to fund their kids' education. However, their kids are now spending their entire day at school, at after-school academies, and studying in their rooms, stressing about exams and having no fun, all so that they can get a good job, where they will work long hours and have more stress until they retire. It seems to be a cycle of stress, pressure, and torture with no end in sight. So people at all ages are killing themselves (literally) to escape it all.
So my take on it is that if the country addresses the problem, that means parents and schools will have to put less stress and pressure on the students, which lowers student achievement, and employers will have to work their employees less hard, which will lower productivity. This country has built itself on backbreaking labor and studying, and has risen to the developed world in only 30 years. But I think they have reached a point where they now need to tone it down, take a step back, and realize that the riches, the technology, the advancements are not making this country any happier, but actually sadder, angrier, more stressed. They need to ask themselves if this money is worth the cost of unhappiness to the point of suicide.
I leave Korea in one week, so I have been doing what I can to set the stage for the new group of Salja members. It will be hard for me to walk away from it once I leave, because I have been steamrolling with this cause! But I feel proud that Salja was started, and that I was able to be a valuable member of the group. And I do believe that even if one person is reached through our efforts, it is all worth it.
We knew that some foreigners held a few discussions last summer to address the suicide problem here, so we contacted them to find out if anything was followed through with their discussions. It turned out that a few of them decided to make a group called Salja, which is Korean for "let's live". Since nobody in the group is a trained professional in suicide prevention, the goal is not to intervene with people personally in their contemplation of suicide. Rather, the goal is to spread messages of celebrating life and spread hope that it's worth hanging on and finding out what more life has to offer. Furthermore, Salja aims to spark a much needed conversation in Korea about why the suicide rate is so high, and encourage the country to be proactive about this problem. So Mary and I decided to spend the rest of our time in Korea helping out Salja and doing what we could to get this organization off the ground and to spread its messages.
We entered this group when it was very young, and it only had so much as a mission statement and a website (www.salja-korea.com). So clearly there was not a lot of momentum built yet. Furthermore, the few members the group did have, as well as Mary and I, were all leaving Korea at the end of winter. So we knew we had only a few months to get the ball rolling, build some momentum, and get Salja's name and message out in the open.
We began with the production of a very low-budget film (and by low-budget I mean no-budget!) called Tomorrow is Worth It. We interviewed various friends, both Korean and foreign, asking these three questions: Why is tomorrow worth it? Have you ever felt that tomorrow wasn't worth it? What was the last thing that made you smile?
Our inspiration for this video was the "It Gets Better" series of youtube videos that were made in response to the high number of gay suicides in America a couple years back. We wanted to spread a similar message to Koreans, particularly Korean youths, to say that although times are hard now, tomorrow is worth it. Don't give up. After seeing so many inspirational videos go viral on youtube, we figured it doesn't hurt to try to make our own videos to spread to the world! Maybe they'll go viral as well, or maybe just one person will watch and be inspired. Either way, it's worth the effort.
Since I had the free time and technological know-how, I edited the whole film. It was quite a process getting it made, and took us about 3 months. But we finally finished and are so happy to get it out to the public! And if you care to watch (it's about 11 minutes long), click the link below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyX-h9wfdbg
We have also made a few other videos, including a short introduction to who Salja is and what we do, and I also made a video of my own personal message to appreciate the beauty that can always be found around us. To view those videos (both only a few minutes long), click the links below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFyzaT_vRRM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8BPuAIiAC4
The group leader had a great idea to get Salja's name and purpose out to the public in Korea. On a few different occasions, a group of us went to a busy shopping area in town and gave out free hugs to anyone who wanted one. Oh, and we dressed in cute animal costumes as well! Anyone who got a hug received a small flier informing them about Salja. In one day, we handed out 400 fliers. Although we know giving hugs won't stop someone from committing suicide, or give our group huge PR, we at least started getting our name out there, and we spread a little joy to people, which is what we're all about!
After a few months, we had created three videos, gave out free hugs, started getting our name out in the open, and held a few smaller events. But time was running out and soon the group members were leaving Korea. We tried very hard to tell everyone we knew about Salja to invite people to join the group and keep it going after we left. But much to our disappointment, we received very little interest from people. Some people have legitimate schedule conflicts, but we knew there were still plenty of people who had the time to help, and frankly we thought all teachers would be willing to get on board with a cause like this. It has been disappointing to see such little interest from a community that has tons of fun, but doesn't take much time to give back. Luckily, a few friends of ours have taken an interest in keeping Salja going after we leave, so we know the flame will live on. Our group leader was also able to get Salja chapters started in Busan and Daegu, so it was encouraging to know that even if Salja ended in Pohang, it would carry on in two bigger cities.
It's fascinating how Koreans are well aware of this suicide epidemic in their country, and they know why it exists. But it's something nobody wishes to discuss. For instance, last night in an adult conversation class I was teaching, we were talking about what makes each of us happy. We had been having a wonderful conversation, everyone participated and shared and we had over an hour of nonstop talking. I then asked the question, "Do you think Korea is a happy country?" To which they replied that it is not. I then segued to the question about Korea's suicide rate, asking if it's talked about much, or if the government is trying to be proactive about it. And the crowd went... silent. For the first and only time in the 90 minute class, nobody had anything to say. They nodded their heads in acknowledgement of Korea's high suicide rate. They nodded their head when I asked if it's something ignored in this country. And they themselves seemed to want to ignore it. It's almost as if the people know it's a problem, but solving it would cause more damage than is worth, so they would rather sweep it under the rug.
It is clear, and well-known, that the bulk of Korea's suicide problem is due to the high stress and pressure put on students and workers. The level of competition is unprecedented because they have a small country with many people and no resources. The people and their minds are Korea's resource. So it's a race to the top, the ultimate contest to not just be one of the best, but THE best. I have had students score second-highest on city wide exams and still face disappointment from their parents because they were not #1. Workers are killing themselves (metaphorically) at jobs working 12-15 hours a day, often on weekends as well, in a constant state of stress, in order to work their way up the ladder. But when I ask some of these workers if their job will become less stressful once they are promoted, they answer that it will always be stressful. But they put themselves through this torture to make enough money to fund their kids' education. However, their kids are now spending their entire day at school, at after-school academies, and studying in their rooms, stressing about exams and having no fun, all so that they can get a good job, where they will work long hours and have more stress until they retire. It seems to be a cycle of stress, pressure, and torture with no end in sight. So people at all ages are killing themselves (literally) to escape it all.
So my take on it is that if the country addresses the problem, that means parents and schools will have to put less stress and pressure on the students, which lowers student achievement, and employers will have to work their employees less hard, which will lower productivity. This country has built itself on backbreaking labor and studying, and has risen to the developed world in only 30 years. But I think they have reached a point where they now need to tone it down, take a step back, and realize that the riches, the technology, the advancements are not making this country any happier, but actually sadder, angrier, more stressed. They need to ask themselves if this money is worth the cost of unhappiness to the point of suicide.
I leave Korea in one week, so I have been doing what I can to set the stage for the new group of Salja members. It will be hard for me to walk away from it once I leave, because I have been steamrolling with this cause! But I feel proud that Salja was started, and that I was able to be a valuable member of the group. And I do believe that even if one person is reached through our efforts, it is all worth it.
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