I find it a very odd to call it "culture shock." That name has some inaccurate connotations. It implies spontaneity. It implies jarring and jolting. It implies that walking downtown and to find live squid on sale profoundly bothers you on the level of a severed arm.
"Shock" implies the suddenness of revelation. This is completely wrong. The effects of the so-called culture shock are infinitely more nuanced and subtle then you're led to believe. I think cultural lingering is a better term for it. It wasn't the new culture that shocked me it was the absence of the old one. It's a sly, tricky master. Found not in the glaring differences but the uncomfortable similarities. It comes wrapped in many garbs and prefers nostalgia and daydreams. Dancing quietly in the background of your daily moods and life. It's the sub-par taste of the coffee and the faint yet distinct taste of sugar in overpriced spaghetti.
So simple and subtle, phrases like "back home we have real meat" or "in America we have Camel Filters" can run wild and construct narratives that seem perfectly plausible and even valid. "Teaching is OK, but delivering pizzas is what I really want to do." Rationalizations and justifications abound. Family and friends who were always there before suddenly won't be. Better jobs that you couldn't get before are magically within your reach now. All the magnificent plans and machinations for one or two years in the future become much more pressing and urgent. Then you look at the calender and see that there's seven months to go. And hope it won't be like this the whole time.
Then there's the slight swelling of anger at the local population. A population that never bothered you before. The strange love for high heels with nine different zippers on them. Blame them for their man purses and guy liner and freakishly tight pants. And find it a moral failing.
That's the real cultural shock, the ghost in the machine. Knocking around daily and keeping you off track. It does have its limits. And it is possible to overcome. But the requirements of time seem like little compensation in the face of the gaping maw opening up before you.
"What have I done?"
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Quotes of 2009
"I'm so bored with the R.o.K."
"Quit distracting everybody with your anal vision."
"What's your favorite drug?"
"Like, LSD, so obviously."
"My office accepts only beauty."
"Dude, how fucking weird is anime porn?"
"You're just tossing my salad."
"He's gotta boner tonight."
"Teacher, teacher, TEA-CHER!"
"Panty Dan 2, I'm Panty Dan 2! Oh my dung is smells bad!"
"Lobster, lobster, law-ob-ster."
"Teacher, there is gum on my pants."
"Let's sleep together."
"Shut your ears, F."
"Shut your asshole!"
"Look what South Park has done to you."
"I can tell by the inflection of your face that you're a dick."
"I've been here for ten hours."
"You win."
"You make them dance for Ho-Ho's?"
"Cow? Like (squirt noise). Ahhhhh."
"Dan 2 teacher you're so handsome, yeah. Teaching all the students that you can, yeah."
"Your face is under attack."
Oh, Iris has such beautiful handwriting teacher. Look how beatific her handwriting is teacher."
"Dan 2 teacher is handsomer than Big Bang."
"Screw you guys, I'm going Home Plus."
"Teacher, my dick is about to burst!"
"Face jizz?"
"Simon says 'write an essay.'"
"So I killed your MA class."
"Oh, sorry. I was going to kill myself but I forgot my pistol."
...more to come.
"Quit distracting everybody with your anal vision."
"What's your favorite drug?"
"Like, LSD, so obviously."
"My office accepts only beauty."
"Dude, how fucking weird is anime porn?"
"You're just tossing my salad."
"He's gotta boner tonight."
"Teacher, teacher, TEA-CHER!"
"Panty Dan 2, I'm Panty Dan 2! Oh my dung is smells bad!"
"Lobster, lobster, law-ob-ster."
"Teacher, there is gum on my pants."
"Let's sleep together."
"Shut your ears, F."
"Shut your asshole!"
"Look what South Park has done to you."
"I can tell by the inflection of your face that you're a dick."
"I've been here for ten hours."
"You win."
"You make them dance for Ho-Ho's?"
"Cow? Like (squirt noise). Ahhhhh."
"Dan 2 teacher you're so handsome, yeah. Teaching all the students that you can, yeah."
"Your face is under attack."
Oh, Iris has such beautiful handwriting teacher. Look how beatific her handwriting is teacher."
"Dan 2 teacher is handsomer than Big Bang."
"Screw you guys, I'm going Home Plus."
"Teacher, my dick is about to burst!"
"Face jizz?"
"Simon says 'write an essay.'"
"So I killed your MA class."
"Oh, sorry. I was going to kill myself but I forgot my pistol."
...more to come.
Friday, November 20, 2009
It's Been almost a year
5- The Inauguration of Obama- I was never really a detractor of Obama but you would be hard pressed to call me a supporter. I will say that watching the swearing in of the president from another country was something I certainly never thought I'd see.
4- The Celebrity Death Marathon- I was quite happy to see the plethora of second-rate celebrities kicking the bucket earlier this year. It was almost humanizing to see that the sham wow guy was in fact as mortal as I am.
3- The Swine Flu Pandemic- This has been frustrating from a lot of sides, most notably when you live in a country with very contradictory ideas on clean. Several annual events were canceled due to H1N1 panics and some kids were permanently removed from the school because parents feared this dreaded disease was being distributed from my school.
2- The Death of Micheal Jackson- Although many were saddened by the passing of this pop icon, none back home were as shattered as my elementary students, one of whom wept at the passing of this disturbingly funny man.
1- The North Korean Nuclear Test- This was just fucking cool.
4- The Celebrity Death Marathon- I was quite happy to see the plethora of second-rate celebrities kicking the bucket earlier this year. It was almost humanizing to see that the sham wow guy was in fact as mortal as I am.
3- The Swine Flu Pandemic- This has been frustrating from a lot of sides, most notably when you live in a country with very contradictory ideas on clean. Several annual events were canceled due to H1N1 panics and some kids were permanently removed from the school because parents feared this dreaded disease was being distributed from my school.
2- The Death of Micheal Jackson- Although many were saddened by the passing of this pop icon, none back home were as shattered as my elementary students, one of whom wept at the passing of this disturbingly funny man.
1- The North Korean Nuclear Test- This was just fucking cool.
Friday, October 30, 2009
The Flu
"What the hell is this place?" I have asked myself this question before but not in this context.
The walk to work was as dirty as ever. They have an interesting approach to sanitation here. The technology skips are interesting here. Cell phones are so cheap that a Korean child will acquire a new phone once or twice a year yet I have yet to see a dumpster anywhere in Korea, including Seoul. Garbage trucks patrol the streets looking for piles of trash into the early hours of the morning. Food waste has it's own special container and in the summer it in not unusual to see hordes of flies crowding around spoiled kim chi and rotten noodles. Toilets, sinks, and even the occasion bath tub lie in the open lots surrounding my apartment complex. Nature trails are never as pristine as they are back home. I've heard from fellow teachers that we foreigners are to blame for the expired mon-doo and rotting chopsticks scattered around town.
Yet walking into the old school today was stranger than usual. The swine flu has always buzzed in the background of this place. You know the swine flu with the .42% mortality rate. Well that buzzed like a fly in my ear every once in a while. A case reported here. A school shut down there. Nothing ever direct. Today the flu barged into my life. The secretaries roam the halls spraying anti-bacterial crap. The students visit a mandatory sanitizing hand lotion stand between classes. Masks wait at the door for anyone to take. Some say they mark the sick, other say it wards of disease. I think it just breeds disease as bacteria laden breath is trapped in by the filter and grows if the masks aren't changed or washed frequently. I wore a mask for irony's sake. A child tried to convince me he had a better mask, that I wore a beggar's mask.
So while the school is scrubbed and boiled and bleached into cleanliness oblivion while the streets, even in my suburb, buzz with the last flies of the summer. Munching on old galbi and potato pancakes.
It's almost a secular religion here, the cleanliness. Whether in relation to race, facial hair, or apartment, clean and pure and squared away is how it's supposed to be. It's almost a superstition the way the secretaries parade around the halls spraying the righteous air sanitizer amongst the foul foreigners attempting corrupt the children. The absolute certainty that the masks combat anything except the dignity of the wearer and the flies buzzing around outside are just the work of the white devil.
The walk to work was as dirty as ever. They have an interesting approach to sanitation here. The technology skips are interesting here. Cell phones are so cheap that a Korean child will acquire a new phone once or twice a year yet I have yet to see a dumpster anywhere in Korea, including Seoul. Garbage trucks patrol the streets looking for piles of trash into the early hours of the morning. Food waste has it's own special container and in the summer it in not unusual to see hordes of flies crowding around spoiled kim chi and rotten noodles. Toilets, sinks, and even the occasion bath tub lie in the open lots surrounding my apartment complex. Nature trails are never as pristine as they are back home. I've heard from fellow teachers that we foreigners are to blame for the expired mon-doo and rotting chopsticks scattered around town.
Yet walking into the old school today was stranger than usual. The swine flu has always buzzed in the background of this place. You know the swine flu with the .42% mortality rate. Well that buzzed like a fly in my ear every once in a while. A case reported here. A school shut down there. Nothing ever direct. Today the flu barged into my life. The secretaries roam the halls spraying anti-bacterial crap. The students visit a mandatory sanitizing hand lotion stand between classes. Masks wait at the door for anyone to take. Some say they mark the sick, other say it wards of disease. I think it just breeds disease as bacteria laden breath is trapped in by the filter and grows if the masks aren't changed or washed frequently. I wore a mask for irony's sake. A child tried to convince me he had a better mask, that I wore a beggar's mask.
So while the school is scrubbed and boiled and bleached into cleanliness oblivion while the streets, even in my suburb, buzz with the last flies of the summer. Munching on old galbi and potato pancakes.
It's almost a secular religion here, the cleanliness. Whether in relation to race, facial hair, or apartment, clean and pure and squared away is how it's supposed to be. It's almost a superstition the way the secretaries parade around the halls spraying the righteous air sanitizer amongst the foul foreigners attempting corrupt the children. The absolute certainty that the masks combat anything except the dignity of the wearer and the flies buzzing around outside are just the work of the white devil.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Ah, Lincoln
What could ever compare to you, my first geographic love? My first metropolitan love? What could ever truly compare?
Here I am on the other side of the world, with a strange and comfortably tense relationship to Korea. The kids are fun, even inspirational, and the people are nice, even pleasant. We have a community here, now. One I've come to enjoy for what it is. I'm more here in Asia than I've ever been before. I'm better off here now than I was three months ago. Even a month ago. The arrival of the new people has been good for me. And I have come to, dare I say...like it here?
Oh but, Lincoln, Nebraska you were so damned good to me, even when you didn't have to.
I ate at a sushi restaurant, or I should say Korea's absurd take on a sushi restaurant. My co-workers called it a sushi restaurant. I called it what it was, a bait shop. I might be ten months gone at this point but I know fish food when I see it. I know it even better when I smell it. This restaurant, whatever the hell it's name is, presented me for the first time in years with a sincere desire for a fishing pole. After the meal I could have gotten a doggie bag and gone down to the river and caught bass.
What was on the menu?
You know the skin of fish, the outside part that's usually some degree of grey? They just sliced that off and tossed it on some rice. No cooking, as you'd expect. Just tossed it on some rice. They did manage to get a little cooking done, the flash-fried fish was truly horrific. I don't want to feel like apologizing to my meal. There it was though. Dead fish looking at me with a look of unfettered sorrow. The best part being that wasn't the worst. Have you ever eaten food that could play with you? I have. They just got an octopus and cut it's arms (or legs) off and put them on a plate and you eat them. Yeah, still moving and everything. They suction on to your tongue and don't taste like anything. They just squirm there on the plate and in your stomach.
Yes, Lincoln my love. You will always have this place beat. I miss beef, Mexican food and Camel Cigarettes still.
Here I am on the other side of the world, with a strange and comfortably tense relationship to Korea. The kids are fun, even inspirational, and the people are nice, even pleasant. We have a community here, now. One I've come to enjoy for what it is. I'm more here in Asia than I've ever been before. I'm better off here now than I was three months ago. Even a month ago. The arrival of the new people has been good for me. And I have come to, dare I say...like it here?
Oh but, Lincoln, Nebraska you were so damned good to me, even when you didn't have to.
I ate at a sushi restaurant, or I should say Korea's absurd take on a sushi restaurant. My co-workers called it a sushi restaurant. I called it what it was, a bait shop. I might be ten months gone at this point but I know fish food when I see it. I know it even better when I smell it. This restaurant, whatever the hell it's name is, presented me for the first time in years with a sincere desire for a fishing pole. After the meal I could have gotten a doggie bag and gone down to the river and caught bass.
What was on the menu?
You know the skin of fish, the outside part that's usually some degree of grey? They just sliced that off and tossed it on some rice. No cooking, as you'd expect. Just tossed it on some rice. They did manage to get a little cooking done, the flash-fried fish was truly horrific. I don't want to feel like apologizing to my meal. There it was though. Dead fish looking at me with a look of unfettered sorrow. The best part being that wasn't the worst. Have you ever eaten food that could play with you? I have. They just got an octopus and cut it's arms (or legs) off and put them on a plate and you eat them. Yeah, still moving and everything. They suction on to your tongue and don't taste like anything. They just squirm there on the plate and in your stomach.
Yes, Lincoln my love. You will always have this place beat. I miss beef, Mexican food and Camel Cigarettes still.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Watching the Summer Wind Down
And my parents depart for my homeland. With that the contract enters its final phase.
The days are hot here. Intolerably hot. I spend the day in the air conditioning. The humidity is more oppressive than any Nebraskan summer I can remember. And certainly worse than Nebraska's present conditions. I read, I study, I smoke, I write, I drink coffee. I can't go outside. I won't.I never liked summer. I thought I did in the depths of winter but ultimately I'd prefer that to this.
Sunday is the day of intense reflection, mental preparation, buttressing my mind for the upcoming workload. I go over the texts for the coming weeks and plot my lessons. I look at random graphs and maps. I miss the days of the delivery on Sundays. The Sunday safari. The stoned adventures to the tourist traps around town.
The days are hot here. Intolerably hot. I spend the day in the air conditioning. The humidity is more oppressive than any Nebraskan summer I can remember. And certainly worse than Nebraska's present conditions. I read, I study, I smoke, I write, I drink coffee. I can't go outside. I won't.I never liked summer. I thought I did in the depths of winter but ultimately I'd prefer that to this.
Sunday is the day of intense reflection, mental preparation, buttressing my mind for the upcoming workload. I go over the texts for the coming weeks and plot my lessons. I look at random graphs and maps. I miss the days of the delivery on Sundays. The Sunday safari. The stoned adventures to the tourist traps around town.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)