Longing for family

As much as I feel like I have tried to carve out a little slice of Korea to call home, I'm longing for relationships and people that understand me. Sure, Koreans have an uncanny ability to invite you in, make you feel welcome, make you feel loved, but I think the side of me that has always felt complicated and conversational misses having long conversations about so many different things.
And mostly, I miss missing out on things. I know that I chose to be here, but I hate knowing that I cannot see my beautiful new nephews. I hate missing Mandy. I hate wanting to see everyone, knowing that their lives are changing in unfathomable, complex, (God-willing) wonderful ways, but I am not a part of these things, and I have not been able to see any of it.
I will go back to see the same family--well, I will see Mandy soon in relative terms. They will be the same family, but it makes me so sad to think they are becoming different people with different lives, different things that I do not understand. Thank God we can become different and better people, but I don't want to miss out on any of it.
A year doesn't seem like long until you think of all the things that happen in a year: two new babies (four depending on the count), a deployment, a move to Hawaii, job difficulties, and a few different babysitters.
We'll make it through.

Some birds for John

Hear are some birds. I'm hesitant to call them pigeons or sea gulls or whatever. You can see that they look quite a bit like mutts, crossed and rebred to be hybrids of some lost breed.
They are flocking around some trash.

This is Jenny.
I've known Jenny for a few months now, and she introduces me as her best friend. We hang out on Friday nights, we play pool, we sometimes go dancing, we play music, and we introduce each other to different friends.
The strange thing is that when we are together Jenny speaks Korean and French and she tries to speak English, and I speak English and try to speak Spanish and Korean. Somehow, we understand each other fairly well. Jenny has quite a few friends that speak English very well, but mostly we laugh a lot and have this amazing time considering that we don't really understand what we are saying to each other.
Jenny has been in Busan for four or five months; she moved here from Paris where she studied and taught dance for thirteen years (she grew up in Busan). Here she teaches dance, but she will move back to France next spring.
Jenny is so interesting: she is always ready to have a good time, to let her hair down and dance (even to music that I wouldn't throw into the garbage without running it over a few times first), to laugh, and to make everyone around her feel pretty good about having her around.
Jenny, like me, has not had the best luck with men--I don't really understand why this is because Jenny is beautiful and funny and fun to be around. Strangely, she has met someone who cares about her immensely. As beautiful and graceful and tall as Jenny is, he is not very tall or particularly handsome, but he is kind, generous, and sweet.
Last week, I was given the unique opportunity to interview him. I was supposed to decide if he was OK for her. I was incredibly flattered that Jenny asked me to do this.
Long story short, they are now dating. He's a pretty great guy.

I'm not mad anymore...

I've talked to a few people about this.
And, like I said, I'm not mad anymore.
I found out a couple of weeks ago that I have to stay longer, past my visa date, in fact. At first, I was annoyed and irritated by the situation, but I have become resigned to what it will be. I am supposed to be well paid for the extra days, and while I will not get the promised paid vacation days at the end of my contract that I never thought I would ever really get, I should still get my plane ticket, my bonus, and overtime for the last couple of weeks.
Not bad.
I suppose I will live.
So while I'm becoming more and more anxious about going home, I'm resigned to the situation. See everybody soon. I'm planning a trip: Hawaii, Minnesota, Indiana, California, New Jersey, New York, Iowa, and maybe Texas. If I don't run out of money.
Not bad.

Whistles

Well, a couple of funny things.
First, I was after another transformer tonight. It was only a little one, not like the three-inch beast I verbally and bleachly abused the other night. This one was in my tiled bathroom, so I hosed it down with a half a bottle of bleach before it stopped jumping, and then I washed it down the drain.
Somewhere in this ten minute battle, I began feeling a twinge of remorse. These marvelous creatures really are amazing: this baby transforming was hoping around my bathroom, drinking so much bleach that I may not need to clean the bathroom for another couple of days. And yet, it struggled, leapt, and moved. What a truly marvelous creature.
This twinge of guilt didn't keep me from washing the thing down the drain and yelling a couple of mean names at it.
The second thing happened a little earlier tonight. I was over at Dong Won and Meeyoung Soon's apartment, eating dinner and enjoying a chance to sit down. As usual, when I was trying to leave, Meeyoung Soon started to pack up fruit and bread to send home with me despite adamant protests. She tried to give me some clothes again, but I distracted her from this when she gave me a barrette. This is all really strange. I feel incredibly uncomfortable, but I think she enjoys this.
On the way home, Meeyoung Soon stopped me into a small store to purchase a whistle. She hung it around my neck and began demonstrating the many situations I could use this if I were ever threatened.
How awesome.
In America, we have mace.
In Korea, we have whistles.
I find this so incredibly ironic considering the neighborhoods I have been around. I should have bought a whistle when I was teaching at Martin....

The Adventures of Sun Sung Duck and Heather, The Saga Continues

Part of me is really ready to go back to America. The part of me that wants to see my nephews, the part of me that wants to play some pinochle with my family, the part of me that wants to have a long conversation that does not have to do with teaching, Canada, politics, or Super ETS.

And then there is the part of me that knows that I may not have these strange and wonderful relationships that I have here.
Sunday, I started at Sun Sung Duck's apartment at 8 am. I found out that Sora, Sun Sung Duck's daughter, would not be able to go with us, but that Gim Bong Sue and Sun Sung Duck's husband would go with us. None of them know English. I don't know Korean.

We sat around the apartment for awhile, and I understood that a taxi was coming to get us, but I didn't really know when. Sun Sung Duck showed me some of Sora's art work, and I was tremendously impressed by the complex, abstract, human figures mounted over impressionistic jean-fronts. Quite creative and meaningful.

After an excellent breakfast, I sort of helped and watched Sun Sung Duck pack up a tremendous picnic lunch. It was huge.











Sun Sung Duck's husband has always seemed a little intimidating to me--the few times I have met him. I cannot quite explain why I feel this way. He is very tall, he has a warn and attractive face, and I'm never sure what Koreans think of me--especially when I show up at their apartments in a strange and possibly unwelcome manner. However, he is none of these things. He laughs easily, and he smiles broadly. This group of three with the talkative taxi driver made an amazing traveling group.

We went everywhere in Kyung Ju. We hiked to an ancient and amazing statue of Buddha, we saw a palace, we saw a stretching area of burial grounds that were huge mounds of earth, and of course, we had an amazing lunch.

These people are so phenomenal. I am so continually blessed to have these wonderful experiences.

Grading and the Transformers

The last week has been draining: we've had to do grades this week. I teach about sixty kids right now, and because the tuition is rather expensive and because the children's behavior is often less than self-sufficient, I suspect many of the children come from wealthy families who give them anything they want.
It is very difficult to write comments for sixty children, telling the parents how smart and wonderful they are, saying the children are really good but need to listen better, and encouraging them to do their work more often.
It is even more draining because the teachers need to do most of this work on their own time. V. annoying (forgive the Bridget Jones reference).
On to the transformers. I believe in an earlier post, I mentioned the transformer bugs. Some of the teachers have nicknamed these strange bugs such because they jump, they swim, and they crawl. My best guess can describe them as a cross between a grasshopper and a cockroach. And they are big.
My efforts to keep my apartment free of cockroaches have continued to be quite successful. I hate the ugly things, and I haven't much patience for sharing my abode with them, so I regularly spray my windows and door to keep the beasts out.
Unfortunately, this doesn't seem to keep out the transformers.
Last night, I had a nasty battle with a three-inch transformer that involved bleach, an old fly swatter, and several shoes. After slowing down the beast with the bleach (but not killing it), I successfully escorted the bane outside. I yelled at him a bit, and I think he was sufficiently swayed from coming back.
We will see.