I Made Natural Shampoo

The school arranges professional development opportunities for teachers throughout the year. Most often, this training is either not available to me as a rule, or offered in Korean which makes it unavailable to me in practice. Generally, I don't mind because I get plenty of online training webinars from the EPIK program for native teachers in English.

What I do enjoy is the fun, enrichment activities provided every few months at the school that teaches a new skill and are not necessarily job-related. Last year I joined the calligraphy group and got to practice writing in Korean with a paintbrush.

This time, the choices were natural shampoo-making or making a cutting board. I actually don't remember being presented with the option, but found myself committed to the shampoo group somehow, while my main co-teacher went off to make a cutting board for her kitchen.

I walked into the classroom and several teachers were seated and waiting for the training to begin. Of course, I sat alone and waited. Teachers flowed into the room and sat everywhere throughout the room, except next to me. If they got too close, I'm sure they worried that they'd have to speak English with me. It wasn't until about 10 minutes into the presentation when the vice-principal came in late and took the only remaining seat, the one next to me. It was a nice gesture, still, she didn't talk to me at all for two hours.

Thankfully, there was another English teacher in the room who took pity on me and made sure I understood the instructions so I could make the shampoo. This is besides the point, but when I returned to school the next week, I learned that she would be away for a while because she was self-isolating on account of having close contact with someone with COVID-19. Hopefully, she's alright.

The session was led by an aromatherapist. I know this because, even though her presentation was fully in Korean, there were a few words of English sprinkled throughout: "aromatherapist, aromatic, lavender, and essential oil." The remainder was unintelligible but lengthy. She talked for an hour.

Finally, it was time to make natural shampoo. On our desks were a cup, scale, and ingredient list (also in Korean). The whole process was much simpler than I was expecting. Basically, we needed to put the ingredients into the cup, while carefully measuring it on the scale. The instructor passed out jars and containers of the various liquids. Where some people got in trouble, including the vice-principal, was that they didn't reset the scale each time, so their proportions were way off and they ruined their shampoo. I'm thankful that the English teacher explained everything to me, so my shampoo consisted of all of the proper liquids, in the correct amounts.

For those who ruined their shampoo by not following the instructions, probably because they came in late, the instructor made a batch at the end so they would have something to take home. 

I tried to translate the ingredients with my phone, but even with Google Translate, I didn't recognize most of the mix except lavender, oil, and mineral water. But I was surprised how many things go into shampoo. It took some time to add everything together.

Once we finished, we sealed the cup, gave it a good shake, and affixed the sticker. We were given a foaming pump to use with the shampoo. Mission accomplished, I made natural shampoo.

I guess making natural shampoo was mildly fun. Lots of ingredients, but quite simple in the end. Better than sitting at my desk for two hours, that's for sure. The shampoo smells a little too perfumey for my taste but it works.

Father's Day Lesson

South Korea doesn't celebrate separate mother's and father's days. Instead, they have one "Parents Day" in May. Students will buy small gifts for their parents, write letters, or do something nice around the house to show their appreciation.

Every few weeks, I prepare a lesson on a topic of my choice to give the students a break from the textbook and to expose them to different language points or culture in Western countries. I've already given lessons on St. Patrick's Day, April Fool's Day, Earth Day, Jack and the Beanstalk, and anger. Since it's June, I decided to do a Father's Day lesson.

Because I wanted to use this lesson with different grades and at both of my schools, I need to prepare an online version of the lesson and an in-person version. The online version was recorded and played for the grade three students at my main school. Once per term I need to deliver an "open lesson" that is viewed and evaluated by other teachers at the school. This doesn't amount to much for online lessons because I simply submit the lesson and anyone who wants to watch it can do so. I'm never provided with any feedback on my open lesson, so it's pointless. 

The in-person lessons were for my boys classes and were much more interesting because I decided to have a craft-making task, which I almost never do. It was simple enough, but I hoped it would be fun to provide some variety for the students and also give them the opportunity to make a gift for their fathers.

The task for the students was to write a thank you note for their father on a necktie template. I gave the students sample sentences to use, such as "Happy Father's Day", "You're the best dad!", and "Have a nice day." The students also decorated and drew on the necktie. The pictures were often meaningful activities that the students shared with their fathers, such as playing basketball or camping.

The lesson went well in that it kept the students occupied for the full class and everyone walked away with a, more or less, finished product. I was a little disappointed that most students didn't try to expand the written message beyond the sample sentences that I provided. My first-grade boys' classes did the bare minimum of writing and spent most of their time drawing the designs and pictures on the tie. Still, I think the end result was fine. Some of the more advanced students wrote longer, more personalized messages to their fathers.

Ultimately, keeping the written English to a bare minimum was probably the best choice because, at the end of the class when I reminded the students to give the gift to their fathers, some students noted that their fathers couldn't read English and probably wouldn't know what the messages meant anyway.

We're approaching the end of term exams, so from the time the exam finishes until the beginning of summer vacation, all of my lessons will be on free topics. It's a fun time for the students because we just play games or explore interesting topics, but it's difficult to come up with new material outside of the textbook. From last year and so far this year, I've covered lessons on most of the major holidays, so I need to get creative and come up with some new material. I'm thinking of doing lessons on clothing (fashion), types of laughter and humour, and cultural events in Canada such as the Calgary Stampede.

UN Memorial Cemetery in Korea

I've been meaning to visit the UN Memorial Cemetery in Korea (UNMCK) for a while now, as it's located here in Busan and it's actually the only cemetery in the world dedicated to UN soldiers. I had put it off because it takes about 1 hour 30 minutes to travel there from my apartment by public transportation. Also, while meaningful and educational, it's certainly sombre and sad. Even the night before, I was wavering on my decision to go, but ultimately decided to make the trip in the early hours of Sunday morning.

When I arrived, I saw uniformed soldiers marching in formation. Other military members, both Korean and American appeared to be setting up for some sort of ceremony. It was an amazing coincidence that I decided to go to the UNMCK on June 6th, which is Memorial Day in Korea. The ceremony started at 10am and I arrived at 9:45am. I didn't know it was Memorial Day until I checked my phone later, but I sensed the ceremony was important. Not a large crowd, but certainly there were visitors who came for this occasion.

A moment of silence was followed by the sound of a siren. The soldiers held their position still and silent. I believe the South Korean national anthem was played, and then a wreath was presented. At this particular section of the cemetery, two-man crews cycled through every grave and meticulously placed a white flower on the headstone. I watched as they honoured the heroes of many countries, including Canada.

Canadians will be pleased to know that our fallen soldiers who rest in Busan after giving their young lives in the Korean War are respected and revered by their Korean caretakers. The cemetery is well cared for and I believe Koreans appreciate the sacrifices that were made by the participating UN forces that ultimately secured their country.

Of the 516 Canadians who perished during the Korean War in the 1950s, 380 are currently interned at the UN cemetery. At one point, there were 11,000 graves, but many have been returned to their various home countries. Currently, 2,3000 rest at the UN Memorial Cemetery in Busan.

There is a waterway that stretches across one edge of the cemetery. It is dedicated to an Australian soldier, JP Daunt, who is the youngest interned at the cemetery. He was only 17 years old when he fell in battle.

The Wall of Remembrance lists the names of every soldier who died, organized by country. The American portion of the wall is exceeding large and is divided by state. The United States lost 36,492 in the Korean War. South Korean military forces had 237,686 fatalities.

We engrave your names in our hearts with love. We inscribe your names in our land with appreciation.

Here are the UN nations that participated in the war:

Australia
Belgium
Canada
Colombia
Denmark
Ethiopia
France
Germany
Greece
India
Italy
Luxembourg
Netherlands
New Zealand
Norway
Philippines
South Africa
Sweden
Thailand
Turkey
United Kingdom
United States

It is estimated that 5 million people died in the Korean war 1950-1953, half of which were civilians. Approximately 10% of the Korean pre-war population died during the conflict. A peace treaty was never formally ratified, so the two Koreas remain in a technical state of war that has lasted decades.

Busan is significant in South Korea as the only city not to be captured by the North Korean forces. It was the last bastion for the South on the brink of defeat, as the UN forces formed a perimeter around Busan for their last stand. Many people fled to Busan from Seoul and other places in the country as refugees to escape the destruction of the war. Using the Port of Busan to their advantage, the UN forces were able to amass supplies and re-enforcements and held out for six weeks before a counter-attack was launched that made the Northern army retreat northwards.

The area around the cemetery is adorned with flags from various nations, and the street is called UN street. The sidewalk has the word  'peace' in different languages placed every few meters. 

Later, when talking to the Korean teachers, they said that Korean students often go to the cemetery for field trips to learn about the history of the Korean War. It's good to know that Korean students are being educated on this part of their history. When I read about the issue with North Korea and speak to my Korean colleagues, it's clear that they see "Korea" as one country that is unnaturally split into two. There is the hope of reunification someday, while cognizant of the practical and political obstacles that make the realization of the dream seem distant.

Dokdo: It's our island

When I first arrived in Korea, I stayed in a hotel next to the airport in Incheon and took the train for about an hour into Seoul for some exploring. Fresh off the plane and excited to get reacquainted with the country I'd be living in for the next year or more, I remember two things from those commutes on the train.  

First, as it was just days before the first outbreak of COVID-19 in South Korea, no one was wearing facemasks. Life was normal. Basically, every day since then, people here have been completely masked, both indoors and outside.

Second, the TV screens on the train repeatedly played, in multiple languages, a propaganda advertisement detailing South Korea's claim to Dokdo, a small series of islands totalling only 187,554 m² off the east coast with a minuscule population of 34 people. The advertisement explained that Dokdo was core to Korea's national identity and had always belonged to Korea. Japan's claim on the island, which they call Takeshima, is without merit, false, and fraudulent the advertisement explained. The advertisement, which caught my eye not only because of the content but also its length, further detailed some historical archives that apparently proved their case that the Japanese had acknowledged Korea's right to the island as far back as the 1600s. Therefore, from the Korean perspective, Dokdo is our island and will never be surrendered.

I don't have an opinion on which country has the legitimate claim, Japan or South Korea. By the way, North Korea claims the island too. I don't have enough information and it's not my place. I just thought it was incredibly interesting that on the train from the airport, visitors are greeted by an anti-Japanese commercial multiple times throughout the trip. The advertisement was played in Korean, English, Chinese, and yes, Japanese. Anti-Japanese sentiment hit me right in the face on my very first day in Korea, within minutes of leaving the airport.

Not often, but a few times since then, my Korean students or friends have told me that they don't like the Japanese. Naturally, this has to do with the tumultuous history dating back hundreds of years, and especially the occupation up to the end of World War 2. More recently, Japan is criticized for failing to make proper amends for the war atrocities, including the issue of forced labour, comfort women, and generally downplaying their actions at that time. This is the Korean perspective. The Japanese generally believe these issues have been addressed but the Koreans continue to move the goalposts.

I noticed a picture of an island hanging in one of the classrooms of my boys' school last year. I asked a student about it. He said it was Dokdo. Clearly, the claim to Dokdo Island is ingrained into the youth of Korea from an early age.

I was reminded of Dokdo Island recently when during a speaking test with a third-grade middle school student who was tasked with recommending a good place to visit in Korea, suggested that I go to Dokdo. Most of the other students recommended typical tourist places in Korea like Seoul, Jeju, and various palaces, traditional villages, and amusement parks. The middle-schooler explained that Dokdo was a Korean Island. He said that Japan says it's their island "but that is a lie." Only he mispronounced "lie" so it sounded more like "lion" but that's besides that point. 

What makes this all the more ridiculous is that there is nothing for a tourist to do on Dokdo Island. It is accessible only by passenger ship, and only during certain periods of the year. Visitors to the island are only allowed to stay for 30 minutes. And according to the Korean Tourism Organization, "There are no restaurants or accommodation facilities in Dokdo, so if you are planning to travel to Dokdo, make sure you get food and accommodations in Ulleungdo." Apparently, the island is in a good fishing spot, though.

In fact, visitors were not permitted on the island because of security and political reasons until 2005. Not coincidently, Japan had made another claim to the island at that time. A prefecture in Japan held a Takeshima (Dokdo) Day including a ceremony, so South Korea opened up the island to Korean visitors from the mainland via Ulleungdo island as a counter to the Japanese "provocation". The island has effectively been controlled by South Korea since 1952 and is regularly patrolled by the Korean Coast Guard. Of course, Korea claims that Dokdo has always been Korean. Japan argues that South Korea is illegally occupying the island.

With the 2021 Summer Olympics in Tokyo fast approaching, the land dispute between South Korea and Japan has once again made news. A map on the Tokyo Olympic Committee website had shown Dokdo Island as part of the Japanese territory. "When South Korea demanded a correction to the map and threatened to boycott the Olympics, the map was adjusted to make Dokdo less visible but was not removed."

Interestingly, the Korean Herald news article goes on to explain that South Korea had made a concession to the International Olympic Committee (IOC) when they hosted the Winter Olympics in 2018. They cite two instances where Dokdo Island was removed from Korean maps because of the IOC's guideline on "political neutrality." Naturally, the Koreans feel slighted that they made those concessions when it appears that the Japanese are not doing the same this time around.

The same article mentions a Korean petition to boycott the Olympics because Japan put Dokdo on their map. An extremely angry, anonymous petitioner wrote, "Japan's such actions are nothing more than a declaration of war by using the Olympics to internationally reveal their ambitions for Dokdo." Despite the petition, I haven't heard news from any government sources about a boycott so it's uncertain how much traction it actually has.

As you can see, the emotional attachment to Dokdo is extremely high in South Korea. Again, the purpose of this blog was not to take a side in the island dispute but to highlight what I see of the issue as an outsider currently living in Korea, with friendship ties to Japan. I cannot imagine that South Korea will ever give up Dokdo as it has become a part of their national identity and a rallying point whenever Japan and Korea clash on any given issue. The lingering wounds of the past are made fresh every time Dokdo is challenged.