Insanely Accurate Korean Archery

You don’t need to understand Korean to appreciate the accuracy displayed in this video. A group of Korean archers put their super-human focus on display as they hit bite-sized targets (a soybean, a piece of thread) from over 90 feet away. The last shot is so improbable the only way to believe it is to see it with your own two eyes. All I can say is that these guys must rack up some serious prizes at carnival games.

Tube Steak Madness

Tasty?

While I’m on the topic of things-that-just-aren’t-the-same, here’s a picture of the front of an “authentic” hot dog shop near my apartment. They sell coffee and gelato there too, but I’ve never seen any one actually in the store besides the front counter lady and her kids who are always watching cartoons in a nearby booth. From the looks of it, this place isn’t shy when it comes to topping your tube steak. For some reason I really want to try the “Red Dog” (third from left) – that looks like the kind of meal that just dares you to eat it; a meal that sticks to your ribs and won’t let go, no matter how much Pepto you pound. Apparently this shop is the only place in Seosan that serves all beef hot dogs, but since there’s not much nutritional integrity in a hot dog to begin with, that’s not really a strong selling point for me. I’ll probably try one eventually, maybe on the Fourth of July.

Speaking of crazy hot dogs, have a look-see at these bad boys from Sweden.

Memories of Joe

No Place Like Home.

I miss coffee. I miss it a lot. For now, the can pictured above is the closest I will come to both Starbucks or Seattle for quite some time. Kinda depressing. Out here in Seosan, there are only two types of coffee: the kind that tastes bad the kind that tastes like total crap. Oh, and you can forget about baristas too. Most of the time when you “go for coffee” you are really just going to an automated machine that spits out some hot brown liquid into a dixie cup. If you do find a real human to make the stuff, it always seems to turn into a huge ordeal. Most of the time drip coffee isn’t on the menu, and a simple Americano can take up to 10 minutes to make. There is no milk or cream, and the closest you can get to sugar is some high fructose corn syrup which the person manning the counter will give out upon request. You can forget about swizzle sticks and those little cardboard sleeve thingees that protect your hand from the heat (what are those called anyway? Might I suggest “Coffee Jockeys”?). If you somehow manage to get to the bottom of the brown water, you will notice that bottom of the cup is coated with a sludgy substance reminiscent of crude oil (both in texture, and one can only assume, taste).

If someone offers you coffee don’t assume that they are being kind and brewing up a fresh batch just for you. Rather, they are probably just emptying out a powder pack and adding hot water from a dispenser. You needn’t worry about getting a caffeine buzz because there is no caffeine to be found, but you might want to brush your teeth because the contents of these packages seems to be 99 percent sugar and one percent poo coloring.

Crap Packet.

Even though I gripe about the dire java situation out here, and even though the closest Starbucks is an hour and a half away in Seoul, coffee still holds a convenient cultural cache that helps me connect with the locals. When people ask me where I’m from, I always start by telling them I’m from Seattle, the place where Starbucks comes from. That usually gets a nod of knowing approval. If that doesn’t work, I remind them of that movie with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, “Sleepless in Seattle” – or as it’s called out here, “Can’t Sleep in Seattle.” And if for some reason that doesn’t work, I go to my fail-safe backup plan: I tell them I’m from Hollywood. Close enough to get the point across but really not the same at all – kinda like the coffee.

All Work and No Play

No Sleep ‘Til Harvard.

Came across an interesting article yesterday about elite South Korean private schools. The article, which came courtesy of Sam Dillon of the New York TImes, profiles two top-tier academies that prep their students for acceptance into U.S. Ivy League schools. The requirements for students who attend these schools are incredible – but also from a recently-graduated student’s perspective – a total bummer. All students must attain proficiency in 2 languages not including English, attend an extra month tacked on to the academic calender, have nearly flawless entry test scores, and a commitment to unrelenting study. And by unrelenting study, I mean, the never-leave-the-library-even-though-you-haven’t-slept-in -four-days kinda study. Here’s an excerpt highlighting the mind-boggling academic schedules these students face:

The schedule at the Minjok academy, on a rural campus of tile-roofed buildings in forested hills, appears even more daunting. Students rise at 6 for martial arts, and thereafter, wearing full-sleeved, gray-and-black robes, plunge into a day of relentless study that ends just before midnight, when they may sleep.

But most keep cramming until 2 a.m., when dorm lights are switched off, said Gang Min-ho, a senior. Even then some students turn on lanterns and keep going, Mr. Gang said. “Basically we lead very tired lives,” he said.

Now that I’ve been living in Korea for a while, the details of this article, while still incredible, are not shocking. As I’ve learned from talking with native Koreans and other teachers alike, is that Korean culture can be incredibly competitive and the desire to achieve can sometimes become all consuming. I see it with my kids too. Some will come in dressed in their Tae-Kwon Do uniforms and holding a violin, making my academy just one of three extracurricular stops during their day. Many children attend private academies on the weekends as well. There are science schools, art schools, music and dance lessons, math and computer courses, Chinese language lessons, and many others that I probably don’t even know about yet. I’ve already been told I need to give out more homework because parents at my school don’t think their children have enough. That really bummed me out, so lately we’ve been playing a lot of games. Whenever I say the “word” game the students eyes light up, probably because they don’t get much leisure time in their regular schools. Simple games that used to bore me to tears – Hang Man, Simon Says, and Bingo – are like revelations to some of my kids. I’ve been told that many Korean schools stress rote memorization of facts and phrases rather than actual cognitive processing (woah, that sounded kinda smart right there), so games are a welcome relief to flashcards and vocab lists.

Either way you slice it, I think the kids and the academies featured in Dillon’s article are missing the point. Education at the expense of experience isn’t worth it. Sometimes the best way for a child to learn is to let a kid be a kid. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a game of 20 Questions to attend to.

Link via [NYT]

RUN DMZ pt. 3

Don’t Blink: Constant Surveillance at the DMZ

The last stop on our DMZ tour had to count as one of the most surreal moments I have experienced – right up there with that time I watched The Wizard of Oz synced up perfectly with Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon.” Both trips were amazing, but only this one left you feeling uneasy and awed at the same time. After two security checks and a debriefing, our tour finally arrived at the Joint Security Area (JSA), aka Panmunjeon, aka Truce Village. The space itself is reminiscent of a high school campus, or perhaps two rival high schools situated directly across from one another. As with any good rivalry, there is a continual vibration of tension that lingers in the air; you can feel it as soon as you drive through the front gates of the JSA. In fact, there’s even a 15 minute orientation in which visitors are told not to point or make any other gestures to N. Korean soldiers lest they look forward to sparking off World War Three. One element of the JSA that I found striking was the amount of one-ups-man-ship between the two sides. Just because they can’t shoot at one another doesn’t mean they can’t take pot-shots. For instance, a border town in South Korea built a 100m tall flag pole, only to be out done a little while later by the North, who built a 160m tall flag pole. Perhaps in response, South Korea then went on to build a shiny stainless steel and glass border patrol center, which stands in stark contrast to the weathered concrete building on the North’s side. Yankees versus Red Sox. Duke versus North Carolina. Pepsi versus Coke. Great rivalries indeed, but they all pale in comparison to North and South Korea. Click for (lots) more.

Reserved Seating

Seating reserved for injured, elderly, and fat-asses only.

Far From Home no. 3

Animal Sounds

While teaching a unit on animals to my first and second grade class I thought it would be a useful exercise to hold up flash cards and ask the kids to make the sound of the chosen wildlife. Simple, right? Well, not as simple as one might assume. As I quickly learned, onomatopoeia is not a universal language. For instance, a dog in Korea says “Mong Mong,” a bird says “Chick Chick,” and a frog doesn’t “Ribbit ” but instead says “Kay-goo Kay-goo.” A Korean horse sounds pretty much the same, as does a cat. Cross-cultural pigs would probably be understood too, but an English speaking rooster might be surprised to hear his Korean counterpart, who doesn’t “Cock-a-doodle” but instead “Kook-a-rees.” Korean bees don’t buzz but they do go “Yang Yang Yang,” which is probably equally terrifying for someone afraid of getting stung. All in all the animal sound lesson was one of the unexpected moments of perspective that have made this trip so worthwhile. Simply put, the dog park will never sound the same.

****

Ever wonder what a Russian owl sounds like? How ’bout a Spanish duck? If so, check out this website, bzzzpeek.com

Run DMZ pt. 2

Before you arrive at the Joint Security Zone – the main guts of the DMZ tour – you are first taken to the Freedom Bridge, the place where over 13,000 South Korean soldiers returned home after being held prisoner by the North. Additionally this location was a coveted strategic position for both armies during the war, and being such, was the site of many heavily armed conflicts. You would think this is would be a solemn area – a place to ponder the atrocities of war; perhaps a place for quiet personal reflection. You’d be wrong. Instead, the first thing visitors see when arriving is a huge amusement park with a carousel, water rides, and one of those stupid swinging pirate ships that are only worth the 6 tickets it takes to get on if you sit on the very end. While these attractions don’t exactly set the tone one might expect at a typical war memorial, it does help take your mind off the Loony-Toon country with nukes just miles to the north that’s run by 3rd graders, and hey – is that cotton candy over there? Oops, where was I? While still very impressive, the historical importance of the Freedom Bridge would have resonated much more if it weren’t for all the distracting souvenir shops and kitschy decorations. But what can you do? Actually now that I think of it, maybe the amusement park is actually a keen strategic maneuver, like, “Hey, North Korea, check out all the fun we’re having down here in the South. Sucks to be you guys. Have fun eating nothing but rice for the rest of your life. What’s that? You’re all out of rice? Maybe we’ll send you over some left over Elephant Ears when we’re done with we’re done with them.” Yeah, that’s probably it. Click for more pics:

Signage

Buzzwords: an auto body shop in Seosan.