Three Meals a Day

I've been keeping a fairly consistent routine with my meals and eating habits so far.

For breakfast, I'll usually have eggs and toast with either some mini weiners or a piece of crabmeat. Sometimes I have cold cereal and milk. I haven't found oatmeal yet, which was my normal weekday breakfast back in Canada.

For lunch, my standard meals are ramen noodles, curry and rice, or fried rice with shrimp.  Any new experiences with Korean cuisine come almost exclusively during those lunchtimes when a teacher takes me out to a nearby restaurant. Usually, it's some sort of ultra-spicy noodles, but we've also had sushi, Chinese food, and a variety of seafood soups.  Once school resumes it's regular schedule, I will be eating lunch in the school cafeteria with the students and teachers.

For dinner, I'll have whatever standard meal I didn't have for lunch, or often I'll pick something up at the grocery store like a sushi set or a bbq chicken/shrimp and eat that on white rice and mix in some broccoli. Sometimes, I go to Lotteria for a fast-food chicken burger or cheeseburger.

I buy whatever snacks look interesting at the time.  And there is no shortage of interesting snacks in Korea.

I visit the grocery store a few times per week since I have to carry everything about 10 minutes back to my apartment. I decided to make my life easier and made one large online order to fill up my pantry. G-Market is a popular online service in Korea, like Amazon.com. So far, I've bought steamed rice, instant curry, and several different kinds of ramen, as well as garbage bags and a novel, all from G-Market. They have everything!

Pantry after an online order

To push myself out of my comfort zone and to get to know the neighbourhood a little better, I've had take-out meals for three consecutive Friday evenings. I walk into the restaurant, do my best to communicate and order, then I take the food home and hope I ordered the correct thing. I figure, what's the worst that could happen? So, I just swallow my nerves and go to a restaurant.

Bulgogi kimbap

Tuna kimbap

My first outing was to a shop that specializes in kimbap. This is Korea's version of the sushi roll but usually without the raw fish. When I first arrived in Busan my co-teacher picked up some kimbap from this shop for our first meal. I ordered two tasty kimbap rolls - bulgogi (thin marinated beef slices) and tuna for a total of 7,000₩. I had some coaching from my co-teacher before venturing to a restaurant alone. She explained that the staff would understand the word "takeout" and "tuna". I also did my own research on kimbap and decided that I wanted to try kimchi kimbap.  I walked into the restaurant, said "takeout" to the staff and got an affirmative answer. I said "tuna" and she replied, "kimbap?" I nodded, and we were on a roll. Then I said "kimchi kimbap" and she said "no".  Uh-oh, a snag. I looked at the posted menu, and of course, it was all in Korean. I said, "another kind of kimbap?" and the staff, in her broken English, translated for me, "cheese kimbap", "spicy kimbap", "bulgogi kimbap"...  I agreed to the bulgogi kimbap, and she was evidently pleased with her ability to communicate in English.

Donkkaseu

The next week I decided to try a restaurant next to my apartment. I really enjoyed tonkatsu, which is a very common meal in Japan. It's a breaded, deep-fried pork cutlet with sauce and in Korea it's called donkkaseu. This time I walked into the restaurant and was immediately greeted by an older lady, probably one of the owners. I figured English wouldn't work in this situation, but I gave it a try. "Takeout?"  She nodded and pointed to the menu posted on the wall. Again, it was entirely in Korean, but thankfully had pictures. I pointed to the top option. She confirmed that I only wanted one order, then set off with instructions for the cook. This encounter was more pressure because there were other customers in the restaurant staring at me the whole time. One slip up and they would think I didn't know how to order donkkaseu! For 7,500₩ I received the set meal and it was worth the effort.

Seasoned fried chicken set with french fries

For my third attempt at take-out, I couldn't resist the Thunder Chicken restaurant that I've walked past every day for two months. I walked in and immediately the cook pointed to a pile of menus. I opened it, and yes, an English menu! I flipped through and after seeing a picture of the chicken dripping with sauce, the seasoned chicken was the obvious choice. I asked for take-out. The cook made a gesture of carrying a bag, then he went to work. This was one of those restaurants not really set up for single customers. There were no meals for one. If I wanted chicken, I had to get a box of ten full pieces, at least. So, while this set cost 15,500₩, I had enough food for at least two meals. Not sure I'll ever go back to dine in, but the chicken was pretty good. It had a sweet chili slow burn and the sauce was incredibly thick and sticky. This was the first time that I actually over-ate in Korea. The set came with a mix of seasoned and crinkle-fries, and what I thought was dessert. It looked like a pack of cut-up apples or pears, but it turned out to be pickled radish, I think. I tried to translate the package, but all Google Translate could do for me was explain that it was "pickled food".

In the coming days and weeks, I'll continue to use food to explore Busan and experience Korea. I hope this gets easier as I learn more Korean and more about Korean food.

Banking in Korea

Part of being established in a new country is getting set up at the bank, and I've made numerous and extensive trips there so far. I need to go back again to finalize a few more details, but the never-ending signing of forms is almost complete.

Even though the staff do not speak English well, I am seemingly getting to know the bank personnel since each visit usually lasts at least 45 minutes, sometimes longer, and often involves various people helping me. My last visit to install internet banking on my phone had no less than two staff members, plus the bank director, and even the security guard helping me with my phone. My phone was passed around until finally the banking app was installed. For some reason, we had endless problems initiating the finger-print login so I had to settle for a pin number. When they handed back my phone, they had changed everything to Korean, so it took forever for me to reset things back to my native language.

Of course, each time I go to the bank I bring my Korean co-teacher with me to help translate. Initially, I was permitted to go to the bank during school hours as an "official work leave", necessary for all new foreign teachers. Official leave has now been exhausted and I'm now required to use "personal leave" to do my banking. Last Tuesday, I requested one hour of leave to go to the bank and needed three signatures at school from the headteacher, the vice-principal, and the principal to get the necessary permission.

My workday at the school ends at 4:30pm but banks close early in Korea, at 4 o'clock.  At least, if you arrive at the bank by 4pm they are obligated to serve you. I've been finishing business in the bank nearing 5pm and had the staff escort me through the locked doors when we finished.

I never really know what's happening at the bank. It is a barrage of secret pin numbers, identification, and the signing and resigning of forms. I could be signing my life away for all I know. Once, I was only half-way through my signature before the form was grabbed away from me. I had only managed to sign "Derek". I feigned that my hand is getting tired so they'd give me a few seconds to rest. During my last visit, the staff gave me a piece of candy because they knew I was being put through the wringer. If you're setting up an account at the bank as a foreigner in Korea, cancel your evening plans, you will be exhausted.

I think I was able to set up my initial bank account with only my passport and a copy of my contract, but that account wasn't much use because I needed to have my Alien Registration Card in order to have an account with a check (debit) card. Upon returning to the bank with my Alien Registration Card, I didn't have my Canadian SIN number, which apparently I needed for some reason. That trip was a failure, but I have since received my check card and have been using it everywhere.

I need to make one more trip to the bank to apply for a second check card. The coronavirus has done a number on the local economy, so the bank has created a special check card that when used at local shops and restaurants within the city of Busan a 10% discount on all purchases is applied. It won't be valid at national chains, but still, this is a great value, and my co-teacher insists on setting me up with this card.

I don't really use cash now that I have my check card, and it took a little getting used to at first. Apparently, the customer does not tap or insert the card, they are supposed to hand it to the cashier who will do that and then pass the card back. Pin numbers are not required, but if the purchase is greater than 50,000 ₩ then you need to provide a signature on the screen.

Long since passé in Canada, bankbooks are still common in Korea. You can update your bankbook at ATMs and even withdraw cash without your check card as long as you have the bankbook and password. My bankbook features the lovely artwork of artist Eva Armisen. ATMs are not 24 hours in Korea. Instead, they are typically available from 8:30am -10pm, and free to use before 6 o'clock with a service fee after 6pm.

Having a Korean bank account in some ways makes my stay here official and signifies I am not a visitor. However, without my co-teacher, none of this would have been remotely possible. So, I'm definitely not self-sufficient, but at least I have some Korean money of my very own.

Online Teaching

The school year in South Korea has begun! The government of Korea announced that school would finally begin, albeit 5 weeks later than originally planned. Lessons will be conducted online at first until the situation with the coronavirus is safely under control.

Middle school in South Korea consists of Grade 1, 2, and 3, so the students range in ages from 12-16 years. The grade 3s started their first classes this week on April 9th and the other grades have a staggered start on April 16th.

In the week or so we had to prepare for online teaching, there were various training sessions and new equipment was delivered to the school, such as wireless keyboards, mice, microphones, and digital pens. As one teacher explained, there is no such thing as a free lunch. With all this fancy, new equipment, we have a lot of work to do.

The idea is that we will pre-record the lessons and upload them for the students to view in their homes. Strangely, even though the lessons are pre-recorded, the students are meant to watch the lesson during the normal class period. The Korean teacher is logged in at that time to check for attendance and provide additional instruction and support through the online chatbox. Thankfully, I am not required to manage the online classes in real-time. I appreciate this because the online system is in Korean and I am having some trouble with it.

In normal times, I would plan four lessons per week and teach the lesson five times each for a total of 20 classroom lessons. Each class is 45 minutes long in middle school. Instead, during this period of online teaching, I plan, record, and upload my four lessons without having to repeat them to each class.

In some ways, the first week is the easiest because I simply prepared a single lesson for all 20 classes. It is my Introduction lesson where I tell the students all about me and my life in Canada. I showed pictures of my home in February, so I hope they will be fascinated by all the snow. After the students have viewed the introduction lesson, I will need to make specific lessons for each grade level, so this will take much more work. While I did spend a lot of time planning lessons during my downtime in March, I will have to revise much of it because the lessons were designed with activities for the classroom. I have to rethink my approach for the online lessons.

I was told last-minute that there needs to be some sort of homework assignment with each lesson. Not so much to assess the students' ability, but to ensure they have actually attended the lesson and are actively participating. For the introduction lesson, I asked students to write two simple questions that they may have about me as their teacher. Also, I asked them to write at least seven English words that describe their life, interests, personality, etc.

Most of the students wrote a variation of the same few questions asking about my favourite foods, hobbies, what I know about Korea, and if I enjoy playing video games, which I then answered in the online system. The best question was from a student, who I am sure will be one of my favourites, who asked, "How do I become handsome just like you?"

I find recording the lessons to be quite challenging, so far. I take my computer to an empty classroom and record my audio and video along with a PowerPoint presentation of the lesson. A few times I was interrupted by the school bell or a passing truck with a loudspeaker. For my first lesson, I didn't realize that the webcam was recording, so when I went back to review the lesson, my face appeared in the corner of the screen. I think it's good for the students to see my face during the lesson, I just wish I was looking at the camera the whole time. At least I looked somewhat professional during the lesson so I decided to keep it and not re-record. Now I know how to add and remove the webcam video so the lessons are looking more professional.

One nice thing about online teaching is that I don't have to travel to my "visit" school twice per week. I would need to leave earlier in the morning and take a subway or bus to that school. Instead, I can just email my lessons to the school and another teacher will upload the file for the students. I am looking forward to teaching at the visit school for some variety, but for now, I am thankful that I don't need to make the unnecessary commute.

I've been in South Korea for eight weeks and haven't met a single student or taught a classroom lesson. At least with online teaching, I am doing something that resembles teaching. There is more and more good news in Korea concerning the coronavirus, so I expect that students will return to in-person classes by mid-May or June at that latest.

Absurd Days

I've been settling into a routine over the past few weeks. My world is small. I spend the workday at my desk at school, my free time at home. Now and then, I go to the grocery store to replenish supplies or relax in a cafe. With the coronavirus and social distancing, I don't feel hurried to explore outside of my routine. I can take things slow and gradually acclimatize to life in Korea. It's comfortable, but every so often I am jolted into reality and reminded of how different things are here. This week, in particular, has been absurd.

There is an outdoor market near my apartment, held regularly every five days. Fresh vegetables, fruits, flowers, and fish are for sale. Plenty of street food, as well, although I haven't been brave enough to purchase anything yet. I was walking at the edge of a market when an old woman beckoned me toward her. She had a large bag full of food from the market. As I got closer, her eyes widened, and the woman realized her mistake, that I was a foreigner. Still, through gestures or telepathy, she communicated that she wanted help lifting and balancing the bag on her head so she could carry it away. I hoisted it upon her head and held it there. I didn't realize she was trying to go, and I kept holding it in place until said something unintelligible in Korean and she walked away.  A giant bag of food on her head and my first good deed in Korea.

With the announcement that classes will commence online, the faculty office has been busier than ever. Teachers have been reporting to work nearly every day, and the room is full of activity. Unfortunately, I was not informed that the hours of work had been changed. I was operating on the vacation schedule, but one day I walked into the faculty office and noticed it was completely full, which was incredibly odd for 9am. I said, "Good morning" and all heads swivelled in my direction. I sat down and the room was silent. My co-teacher then passed me a note which read, "The schedule has changed. All teachers must come to school by 8:30am. Don't be surprised."  But surprised I was. When trying to make a good impression as a new employee, I don't recommend being seen walking into work 30 minutes late.

The next day, and without warning, I was told that I was to introduce myself in front of the full faculty. Ah-ha. Right. Nervousness spiked. I got some last-second advice from my co-teacher who said to "keep it short and remember to mention that you're from Toronto. Korean teachers will know Toronto." Before I knew it, the vice-principal handed me that microphone, and I said "Annyeonghaseyo (good morning in Korean)" and everyone started clapping. Evidently, they were happy that I said a Korean word. I went on to tell them my name, that I wanted to be friends, and hoped that we could speak English together. I scurried back to my seat, thankful that my face was concealed by a facemask. I forgot to say I was from Toronto.

Online teaching is a big adjustment for the Korean teachers here, as they've never had to teach online. We were given about a week to get everything in order before the classes would start. Lessons will be uploaded for the students to view at home. This means technology. It also means being trained on the computer software. The language of the training? Korean, of course. Sitting through the 3-hour training workshop was definitely the worst three hours I've spent in Korea so far. The trainer was doing his presentation at a rapid speed. My computer wasn't working, not that it mattered much. I had no idea what was going on and I just stared on hopelessly and resigned to the absurd scene. Then, out of nowhere, the trainer stopped and said my name, "Derek". He evidently wanted an answer to something. Baffled and shocked, I just sat there gobsmacked for what seemed like an eternity, until another teacher whispered something in the trainer's ear. He moved on with is presentation, and I'm not entirely sure what he wanted from me.

The training was so intense, confusing, and foreign that after work I needed to decompress. I went to the nearest fast-food burger joint, called Lotteria, for something familiar. A big chicken burger, called the T-Rex, with fries and a Coke was exactly what I needed after such a bizarre day. Sitting in Lotteria, lost in thought, contemplating my situation and the enormity of being thousands of kilometres from home, in South Korea of all places, when an English song comes on the radio. I paid little attention to the song until a massive "f-bomb" was sung. Stunned, I looked around the restaurant, thinking, "Whoa, did anyone else hear that?" None of the other diners seemed interested in the lyrical profanity. I, alone, was caught off guard by the music. Just an instance of culture shock.

T-Rex chicken burger at Lotteria

I was back at school on Monday after that terribly confusing Friday afternoon computer software training session. Another shot of culture shock coming my way. While it's normal for people to brush their teeth after lunch at school, never in a million years would I have expected someone to stand at the next urinal while simultaneously urinating and brushing their teeth. I didn't stick around to ask questions. I washed my hands, left the room, and thought about contagion.

In other bathroom folly, I knew they existed but had never experienced one myself, until today. I'm referring to bathrooms that do not supply toilet paper in the stalls but instead offer a common roll posted in the washroom. You need to take what you need before you go into the stall. Obviously, I didn't realize it at the time and, therefore, had to shuffle out to grab some toilet paper. Live and learn. Won't make that mistake again. This unfortunate washroom is at my 'visit' middle school, so I'll need to remember this lesson each time I teach at that school.

Like I said, this week was absurd.

Not My First Pandemic

By May of 2009 I had been living in Japan for about nine months and I felt it was time to take advantage of the travel opportunities that East Asia provided, so I planned an excursion during the Golden Week holidays to South Korea. It would be my first time in Korea and obviously not my last.

It was a quick flight from Osaka to Seoul. Less than two hours, if I recall. Incheon International Airport was vast and modern, but easy enough to navigate myself to the bus departures for a ride into the Hongdae area of Seoul. I had a reservation at a youth hostel but wandered lost for well over an hour; my printed-out map being of no help. Getting tired and frustrated, I stopped for some food and a chance to regroup. My first meal in South Korea was a chicken teriyaki footlong sandwich from Subway. At that restaurant, I met an American who was teaching English in Korea. He struck up a conversation with me and asked to join my table. Perhaps it planted an early seed in my mind about teaching in Korea someday. He generously guided me to the hostel and I refrained from Western food for the remainder of the holiday.

My hostel room accommodations consisted of a series of bunk beds which, coincidently, were full of teachers from Japan, Americans and Canadians, who also decided to vacation in Korea during Golden Week. My new friends and I did some sightseeing around Seoul and enjoyed amazing Korean BBQ. I spent time at a few of Seoul’s fabulous palaces and toured the DMZ at the border with North Korea.

Gyeongbokgung Palace

DMZ

A few days before my scheduled return to Japan I received a confusing email from my manager at the Board of Education in Japan. After spending some time trying to decipher the English, it wasn’t exactly clear if I was being instructed to come home immediately, but what was certain was that something important had happened and the Board of Education was worried.

An outbreak of Swine Flu (H1N1) had occurred throughout Asia, including South Korea and Japan, but what had worried my manager most of all was the Korean outbreak. Specifically, he was worried that I would bring the virus back to Japan and infect the children at school. I was instructed to go straight to my apartment from the airport and avoid all contact with my students. Self-isolation and a free week home from work. Most perplexing, the other foreign teachers at the Board of Education, who has spent their vacation in Japan, were not required to self-isolate or miss a week of work. Remember, Japan and Korea had simultaneous outbreaks.

Anyway, I landed in Osaka, boarded a bus, and arrived in my town where, not ten steps off the bus, I was met by a group of my students playing in the street. I did my best to keep my distance, but I think my quarantine failed before it even started. Throughout the week I received phone calls asking about my health, and even an unexpected house call from a lackey from a Board of Education to check on me.  

After a week of perfect health, I was asked to stop by the Board of Education, but was required to wear a facemask. Clueless about facemask standards having never worn one before, I picked up a mask at the store on the way to the Board of Education. When I walked into the office I knew I had made a mistake. I was wearing a children’s mask. It barely covered my mouth and nose and my goatee was hanging out the bottom. Credit to the Board of Education staff who refrained from outright laughter.

After my one week at home, worries rightly shifted to the outbreak in Japan. Classes were cancelled for one week as a precaution for the safety of the students. Of course, teachers were required to be at the school every day, much like the current state of affairs in Korea. But in 2009, I did not have a computer at the school nor access to the internet. With no classes to teach or lessons to plan or internet to browse, the week dragged horribly.

A positive that came out of the outbreak was that, once students returned to school, washrooms were consistently supplied with hand soap. A bar of soap was hung from a small mesh net. Not exactly hygienic but better than nothing.

I knew one person who contracted swine flu. A teacher friend, who had vacationed in Japan during Golden Week. He made a quick recovery.

Here in South Korea in the year 2020, I am not totally inexperienced with pandemics and the effect on my role as a teacher and expatriate in Asia. Unfortunately, COVID-19 is much more serious and appears to be an issue for the world. This one feels different. At least this time I have adult-sized facemasks. Please be careful, everyone.