Aug 31 2011

Goodbye letters.

“Dear. Amanda

Hi, Amanda. I’m Jane.
I feel a sense of loss because I heared you go back.
I remain in our’s memory in last summer vacation
English camp and all lessons.
It is really great time for me.
funny lessons, new friends and I saw your family! ^^
I’m unforgettable our memory.
and please you remember Yeoju girl’s high school,
many students and me!
Really thanks my teacher. ^^
Take care of you health.
Always good luck!
Goodbye, Amanda

Jane”


Jul 21 2011

Journal: My Best Friend

To Anna (Young Ok)

Hi~ How are you?
umm…Young ok…. I’m serious…
Are you angry at me??
Every morning you are face serious.. are you okay??
But I think you my best friend~~ you too?? HaHaHa
When I was happy with you! in my room eating and talking!
I like talking with you! Because when I speak to you my mind peaceful
So I love talking with you!!
Young ok! You have cute laughter! Okay? HaHa
Bye-bye Young ok!
I love you

-Seulgi-

Dear Daisy (Seulgi)

Hi~ How are you? I think you always. hahaha.
But you don’t know my mind. I’m sad…
I’m angry reason your joke. But I like joke to you.
My best memorie with you, we meet night and together talk and eating food.
We will never fighting, okay??
Bye~bye~
I love you.

From~ Anna (Young Ok)


Jul 7 2011

Rainy Days and the comfort of Tea.

Summer thus far in Korea means grey days and rain, rain, rain.

Tonight it is raining steadily and I’m staying in, drinking my second cup of thick, green Kohyang mugwort tea. Something about it reminds me of Malt O’ Meal, hearty and thick. Comforting. Listen to the rain and the roar of cars as the tires scream through the puddles, flying past my apartment. My eyes are tired. Soft lamp and the darkness of night.

It is so nice to be relaxed with this job. Easy conversation with students, asking questions, forming sentences, jotting down correct phrases and words on scraps of paper. The teachers at school let me borrow the video camera for the next week and I walked around with it today. Students either strike an immediate pose or, in quick desperation, hide behind their hair, their flailing arms, their friends.

In extra class the students prepared messages for me and I filmed them.

“Teacher, I very very missing you. Teacher, don’t leave Korea. If you leave Korea, I am so sad. Oh, no! So very, very sad. Teacher, when you come back Korea? When you come back, call me. Teacher, I really very miss you.”

After the table of three second graders, we were all on the edge of tears. “Teacher, eyes, red! Teacher, no, don’t cry.” Wearing my emotions on the short, feminine sleeves of my blouse.

Finished developing another roll of film on Tuesday night. High temperatures in the makeshift bathroom studio, experimentation with exposure times, low quality film. Grainy and nostalgic.

Group of sophomore students at sports day. 여주여자고등학교, South Korea.

Buddha's Birthday in the rain, looking at the river. Yeoju, South Korea.

Buddha's Birthday, lanterns at Silleuksa Temple, Yeoju, South Korea.

Spring into Summer. Yeoju, South Korea.

Short walk to school, along the 남한강 river. Yeoju, South Korea.


Jul 4 2011

A Trip Up North: the DMZ

Chillin' in front of the USO, waiting for a friend, hot grey day.

This weekend I finally made the trek I’ve been meaning to do for awhile: a trip to the DMZ, or De-Militarized Zone, the rigidly peaceful line that crosses on the 38th parallel between North and South Korea. I will admit that after the attack by North Korea on the island of YeonPyeong in late November, a cool fall day on which I returned from a trip to the Post Office only to be greeted by a group of my students screaming, “Teacher! Fire! Death! Soldiers, die, War!” and by others, “Teacher! Go hoooommmeee nowwww, Teacher, America, Go!!!”, and to then run up to the then- deserted teacher office and subsequently eat dinner, alone, with the handful of students still in school, as we used our chopsticks and picked our way through an eerie silence– after that unforgettable experience, which had eerily similar feelings to September, 11, 2001, I thought I’d let the two Koreas simmer for awhile before making my way north.

As it was, other than the strict military procedure and knowledge that the North Korean army had their eyes trained on our every move as we stood on the border, it was an incredibly interesting experience. The highway that ran north along the river was separated from the river by thick coils of barbed wire on top of a tall chain fence, guarded by small lookout buildings with armed soldiers standing watch, due to a sneak attack by DPRK (or Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, inf. North Korea) soldiers that snuck into the ROK (Republic of Korea, inf. South Korea) via the river in the early 1960s, attempting an attack at the ROK presidential Blue House.

An ROK soldier stands at the ready, in a tense taekwondo pose that suggests he is ready to fight at any moment. He faces the beige DPRK building. The blue buildings to the left and right of the soldier are Conference buildings used for tightly- militarized meetings between the two countries.

We arrived at Camp Bonifas and were given a tour brief before being led to tour the Joint Security Area, including the Freedom House, a conference room built directly over the MDL, or Military Demarcation Line, the line which neither side is allowed to cross. We were driven to a lookout building that looks directly out to the North Korean propaganda city of Kijong-dong, which boasts what used to be the world’s tallest flagpole at 160m, that North Korea constructed after a bit of a ‘flagpole war’ between the north and the south.

We passed the site of the 1976 Axe Murder site, in which DPRK soldiers attacked two soldiers that were trimming a tree and murdered them with axes, which led to increased restrictions on the permissibility of soldiers in the DMZ, and then we drove to the Bridge of No Return. The Bridge of No Return was constructed for the means of prisoner exchanges at the end of the Korean War in 1953. The POWs were given a choice to remain in their country of captivity or to cross over the bridge, to the other side and, consequently, the other country, on the condition they could never return.

This ROK soldier stands in the main Conference Room, a blue building that is built directly on top of the Military Demarcation Line. He stands in an aggressive pose and wears sunglasses so as to prevent showing any emotion to the DPRK soldiers.

We then left Camp Bonifas and drove to the 3rd Infiltration Tunnel. As the story goes, after the Armistice Agreement was signed in 1953, North Korea has made continual breaches against the agreement in attempts to attack South Korea, though they deny them all. South Korea has discovered four tunnels that stretch from North Korea, underneath the DMZ and into South Korea, on a path to reach Seoul. One tunnel was discovered accidentally by a South Korean army patrol in 1974. Another tunnel was discovered in 1975, the third in 1978 on information provided by a North Korean defector. The fourth tunnel was discovered in 1990. There are thought to be 17 tunnels in all. The tunnels are dynamited paths through granite, anywhere from 1.2 m to 2 m high and 0.9 m to 2.0 m wide, between 50 m and 160 m below ground, paved by the DPRK with dynamite provided by the Soviet Union. Totally wild. We got to climb down into the 3rd Infiltration Tunnel via a sloped intersection access slope dug by the ROK and into the tunnel, in which it is estimated that 2,000 DPRK soldiers could pass through in the span of one hour.

We then visited the Dora Observatory, a point at which you theoretically can see the farthest into North Korea, far enough to spot a 20 m high statue of Kim Il Sung that sits in PyeongGang. Unfortunately for us, the day was hazy and grey and we could barely see out past the hill we were standing on. Apparently there exist more than 13,440 statues of Kim Il Sung in North Korea. Also totally crazy.

Two ROK soldiers stand easy on guard at the Dorasan Station.

We then went to visit Dorasan Station, a completely finished train station that is waiting to connect the two capitol cities of North and South Korea, those being PyeongYang and Seoul, respectively. If and when the two countries are able to resolve this deeply cutting conflict that divides the country into fiercely militarized halves, Dorasan Station waits eagerly to be one of the first emblems of connection and peace, and stands ready to be the final connection in creating a Trans- Eurasian Railway Network that connects from the southernmost tip of Korea, up into Russia and across the continent all the way through Europe and into the southernmost tip of France (or Portugal?) Totally wild. Just imagine!

Dorasan Station facing towards Seoul. The station stands 56 km from Seoul and 205 km from Pyeongyang and, if opened, could potentially connect the Trans Eurasian Railway from the southernmost tip of Korea across Russia to the southernmost tip of France.

The school day bustles around me, phones ringing and footsteps tapping across the office floor, papers flying across the room as the breeze through the window picks up, teachers arguing over tests and students laughing and chatting in the hallway as they leave school for the day, and it seems hard to believe that the nation is so tensely on guard against their brother to the North. I sincerely wonder what will happen. It is such a fascinating relationship, a 58- year hibernation with occasional snores and burps of activity that seem increasingly close to provoking a wake up…

Alas. Here are a handful of pictures from the weekend. Enjoy.

Here I'm standing on the border of North Korea, looking out at the DPRK propaganda village, or Kijong-dong. We were warned not to step beyond the rope, for any reason. If you strain your eyes or zoom in, you can see the grey outline of the former tallest flagpole in the world.


May 9 2011

Stop watch, watch notch.

My watch broke and even after I flick it hard on the back of its face, the most it will do is click the second hand forward, backward, forward, backward.

I’ve never seen a clock click one second over and over and over again, refusing to acknowledge passing time. It just moves, one second at a time, forward, backward, time going nowhere, just forward, backward, forward, backward.

Nowhere to go but here.

Maybe it’s a sign that I need to shift my attention from the blur of the past as it slides slowly into the blur of the future, re-calibrate my system to slide sharply into focus on the present. Time is short and moves so quickly. I won’t be in Korea forever, and someday I’m really gonna miss it.

Or maybe it’s just a sign that I shouldn’t have bought a vintage watch.


May 9 2011

Spring breeze in the classroom.

I love this springtime weather, the air thick and humid, alive with the blossoms on the trees, the smell of the outdoors drifting softly in through the windows, the soft and seemingly distant sound of the birds as they chirp, a spirited chorus in a world still free, the green leaves of the freshly budded trees vibrant and lush against the dark hues of the sky.

Inside the classroom, the tan of the students’ uniforms is mild against the soft wood color of the desks, forty black heads of hair, over half in bangs, thick big lenses the mode of style, orderly arranged and seated in eight rows of five desks that obediently face the front.

Due to a schedule change, this is the second time I teach this class today, and consequently my entrance was calm, the students a little more tired than the morning, the air warm and comfortable enough to softly slip into sleep.

I stand in the front as their heads are bent over crossword puzzles, occasionally they look up thoughtfully, make eye contact with me and hold it for a moment before the corner of my mouth smiles and they giggle and look away.

As I walk around the room, the students working at their journals, the breeze from the window pulls at my senses. Conversation rises and falls around the room, there is a quiet echo of the math teacher’s voice from the hallway, the doors at the front and back of the classroom are both open, the room is peaceful and calm, a secluded space with full awareness of the school activity down the hall and the tops of the trees in the world outside the third floor windows.

The spring breeze is incredibly moving to me. It is fragrant, thick, full of memory, heavy with longing, with the present, with the past, of Taiwan, of California, of greenhouses tucked warmly away in cold spring days of the Midwest, of puddle jumping in the streets as the rain beats down on our heads, laughter and study and friendship and family, so full of new life, peaceful and warm, everything connected, we are old and we are young and this is life: a spring breeze that softly passes through the classroom window.