Autumn Colors

Outside Deoksugung Art Museum...

My Korean boys...

My 3rd and 4th grade boys are such cuties. And Casanovas. We were discussing a chapter from Skylark (by Patricia MacLachlan) today and I asked them if they could relate to the feelings that come with farewells. The family in the story was going to be geographically separated for some time.

One of my students, we'll call him Casa One, said he knew what that felt like because he had to say goodbye to his girlfriend when she was leaving to America. Oh, dear, my heart did a funny twitch when I heard that and I wanted to pinch his cheeks, he was so cute!! Then another boy, Casa Two, proceeded to say, "Teacher, Teacher, I have a girlfriend too. I had one in 1st grade too and I still have one." I contained my giggles and responded by saying, "Oh, wow, really, was it the same girl?" No, he said.

Casa Three, but not really a casanova, explained quite articulately that he was in third grade and in his grade, he couldn't have such a lover because they just fight and chase each other. Basically, I think he meant they had kudies (sp?). But he made sure the rest of the class knew why he was single.

Casa Four, also, had a special someone. But he had a great dilemma. He couldn't pick just one. He was a popular one. Surely, this was a problem for him. He needed to commit to one but he would choose one then want another one, then want the old one back, and then a new one, and another...oh no. Finally he said, oh, but it's alright now because I've chosen one.

Then Casa Two called him "Casanova" and raised his hands, "Teacher, Teacher, I have blown wind (that is, in Korean expression, I've cheated) five times! I'm Casanova." I said, "Oh no, that's not a very nice thing to do!" Then I asked Casa Five if he had a girlfriend, and he mumbled something and said I don't know.

The only female student in this class was absent today. I think for good reason.

The discussion went on like this for a good 15 minutes and I just couldn't get myself to steer them back to the actual topic of loss and separation because I wanted to know more about how these little kids' confessed their love to the opposite sex.

So, I learned, this is the beginning stages of manhood for Korean males. An education I had never received growing up in Nigeria...

I recently learned all the terminology for "DATING" in Korea. Let me let you in on the culture of Korean dating. I thought it was funny. Also smart. First, I have to explain to those who are not familiar with this side of the world that there's language called KONGLISH (English plus Korean). Like Spanglish (Spanish plus English). Here are some examples:

*Yoo-Moh: Humor
*Peh-Shun: Fashion
*~ting: basically the idea is to add -ing, but actually with a "t" in front, so -ting to any word that describes an action. This applies to Konglish lingo for dating...

Here are some:

*Soh-geh-ting: basically, it means dating, but this is where the categorization is a little different from America. "Soh-geh" means to introduce. So someone with their match-making lenses might introduce two people they know and the two go on this date called "Soh-geh-ting." Basically, a date set up by a friend.

*Mih-ting: Meeting. Basically, group dating. So, again, through a match-making friend/acquaintance, a group meets to get to know each other. With the intention of meeting the special one. Many times, they play drinking games. Some people do it with water. Among many other activities, I'm sure.

*Buhn-geh-ting: Online dating.

*Deh-ee-teuh: Date

*There's supposedly a bunch more...haven't been told about them yet...

You get the idea...all of these words end with "~TING." This is Konglish. Anyway, I guess the main distinction between the dating culture here is the intricate participation of match-maker friends and family. I was initially weirded out by this because I had romanticized the idea of meeting him on my own initiative. But after warming up to the way things work here, and trying it out a couple times, it's actually a smarter/safer way to go. I must say though, I love my solitary and "freer" life right now, so it can be an annoyance when people constantly ask you if you have a boyfriend or comment on being at the age to get married. Whatever, though, I appreciate their concern and welcome the new cultural experience:). I wonder if this is an aspect of what they call a communal society.

By the way, don't take everything I say as representative of Korea. I am not it's mouth. These are merely observations through my eyes. And my right eye is shaped differently than the left, and they're both a smaller size and blacker tone than most of yours. Literally. And in the other way too. So I don't claim to be 100% factual.

Grandma Soon

I have a pseudo-grandma who was a part of my family even before I was born. I wouldn't be born if it weren't for her... she played a major role in my parents' marriage. Yong Jun, my brother, and I wouldn't have gotten our college degrees without her sponsorship. And we wouldn't be who we are if it weren't for her consistent prayers. I didn't know her well because I lived far away from her but now I see her every Saturdays and this has become a dream come true.

Grandma Whang Soon Duk is an artist. When I was a teenager, I remember visiting her home whenever I would return to Korea, staring at the paintings on her walls, and wanting to know more about her abstract works and her life. I never imagined this would really happen.

This lady made major contributions to art education in Korea over the years. But now in her late 60s, she has had surgery on one of her eyes. I'm not sure what the disease is called in English but it is not one that can be cured. So regretfully she's had to end all private lessons and is even unable to paint her own works. It is very hard for her and her students, as you can imagine.

But two weeks ago, she called me and told me she wanted to give me lessons before her eye gets worse! I have prayed for this day for two and a half years! She has students who are already in art schools and wanting to continue lessons with her but she has turned them down because of her eye. Still, she wants to teach me. I can't tell you how honored I feel, and often shake my head in disbelief. I've had two lessons so far and have loved her methods of teaching and simply talking to her about the arts.

We are both praying for a miracle. If you believe in prayer, I'd like to ask you to pray too. She feels that she still has so much more to create for another 20 years but she needs her eyes to paint. I don't know exactly why our paths met and why she has invested so much into me, but I know without a doubt that there's a divine aspect to this. I know her life as an artist is not finished yet...

Click here to see her online gallery...
http://www2.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

TOSCA

I saw TOSCA with my boss this weekend. Puccini's opera. It was preformed by the original Russian casting and I felt very expensive that evening.



Some of the performers were Koreans, disguised as Russians. And the subtitles were in Korean, all of which, I can proudly say, I followed quite well, except for some of the Chinese root words. The interplay of these cultures and languages was quite fascinating to see. This is why my skin feels like its dissolving when I engage in the arts. Crossing generations and traditions and words, the arts tell no lies when it comes to portraying basic human emotions.



I was sad to be leaving the art scene in LA but now I'm seeing that there is a whole new world of artists in this country. I'm glad to be here...

Subway

I live in Bundang, a growing city just outside of the capital city, Seoul. I take the subway to Seoul every week, 1.5 hours one way, to get to my piano lesson. Public transportation in Korea is beautiful, except when it's rush hour and 아줌마s (middle-aged Korean women) push me around, literally, in the heap of Korea's dense population. The lack of personal space used to bother me at first, but now I just push them right back and pat myself "well done" for being true to myself. Much can be observed and learned during these trips. Watching people, Korea's people, and brushing alongside of them in these underground stations, have been a great means for entertainment and education.

Well, yesterday, as I was returning from my piano lesson, with Beethoven's weighted piece still being played somewhere inside me, I found a seat on the subway. I opened my book and stuffed my earphones in, wanting to shut out my surroundings for a while. The subway was pretty empty at this time of day (just before noon) and most people were sitting down. But there was this man standing by himself, making gestures. From the corner of my eye, I could tell that he was talking. This is strange, I thought, because he was standing there by himself. So in my curiosity, I peeked a glance and saw that he was talking to noone in particular. Looking straight ahead, at noone but space or maybe the door, and with a zealous look on his face, he appeared to be giving a persuasive speech. My music was playing loud so I dug into my purse to stop the music and listen to him for awhile.

I thought, this is a schizophrenic man talking to his invisible friend, I have to check this out. So I listened for less than a minute and recognized what he was saying. "You will go to hell..." ...you get the idea. He was preaching the Gospel. I had to hold my head to prevent it from shaking in disregard.

Maybe he really did have mental health problems. If that's the case, okay. I understand. But c'mon, if that was just some fanatic method of evangelism, stop representing religion and/or spirituality as a madman's belief. Clearly, he looked insane.

My worlds colliding...most of you probably won't get this. I'm not sure I do.

I put my earphones back on and remembered a scene at Itaewon, the foreigner's city in Korea, or the US military party town. A couple of weekends ago, as I was waiting for my friends, I took a stroll and approached a motley gathering of Korean evangelists singing worship songs over the loud speaker, and a jewelry stand set right across from the singers, gathering its diverse customers and listeners. A couple men, may have been Arab, were sitting on a ledge huffing and puffing cigarettes, and I wondered why they were sitting in the middle of all that confusion. Then I saw a tall black man walking casually past this crowd and suddenly a very old Korean man, looking like a beggar, hit him. Yes, he hit him. I started to laugh but caught myself. The tall black man then threw a scrunched peice of paper at him with his tongue flickering profanities. Imagine. Indian tourists were there also, talking amongst themselves, oblivious to the chaos, and people disguised under Halloween costumes walked in and out of the circle, always turning their heads to the singers. I wondered, did these worship leaders really think they were doing their onlookers a service? I saw many things in that scene. Racism. Prejudice. Presumptuousness. Judgment. Diversity.

I didn't know Korea could be so diverse. Most days I just see yellow faces and shimmering black hair. I see duplications of my father and mother everywhere I go. Many look alike. Act alike. But I pick out things to observe. And learn. This is why I'm in Korea. I want to know my roots.

Going on 3 Months!

It's hard to believe. I've been in Korea for almost 3 months now. Sometimes it feels longer, sometimes shorter. I decided it was time I set up a blog for people to peek at my "new" life every once in a while. Life isn't exactly isolated over here but I do feel an absence of many people I've known over the past years so to stuff those holes, I decided I'd get connected again. I know, not the most interactive means but this'll do for now. I hope you enjoy my random entries as I try to dissect my encounters in Korea.

Halloween Party at Itaewon. With Candice

Most of you know that my move to Korea was quite unexpected. My plans, oh for sure, were to pursue a doctoral program in clinical psychology. I thought this was my calling in life. My ultimate passion. Little did I know. The doors completely shut on me and to tell it honestly, it sort of left a big red mark on my face after the slap. I guess we all learn at some point that our lives can never really be planned out, at least in the way we think. God had a different stroke for me. And here I am, in Korea now, trying to figure him out. Trying to figure myself out. And so much more.

With Fashion Designer Andre Kim! Some wishes do come true!

So as I ramble on about my many musings I hope you will observe, no not just observe, but take part, in the formation of this person we call Soyon. The length of my time in this motherland is indefinite, but I cannot state clearly where I will be a year from now. For now, I am learning the art of teaching little Korean kids (elementary to middle school) how to digest and throw back up the English language everyone in their mother wants to perfect! It's a challenge, this teaching thing, but I have had many rewarding days that have kept me going. With a lot of free time on hand, I am also able to do the things I love such as playing piano and making art. I have also found a church that is becoming an unexpected and much-needed haven for me during this transition.

Unfortunately this is not my baby.

More details to come...stay tuned:)