"I love MOGA"

Marble Mansion and Archery Madness

"I told Ben, ZEN!"

Rockin' Cheongju

First Family Picnic

gettin' funky in Seoul

Songnisan

Haeinsa

Where to begin in this epic journey of Jillian Shee (“shee” is Konglish—as this is added to a name to indicate Mrs./Mister)?

I suppose I must backtrack. Yikes. I can feel the weight of this train lugging. The wheels have slowed majorly, but I assure she is still a choo-chooing away.

For one, where am I? Right now, I have arrived safely at my homestay in Cheongju, South Korea—approximately 1.5 hours south of Seoul by bus. But let’s not forget the enduring traffic, so that number could rise easily. At any rate, I live in what’s considered a “house;” however, an apartment is a much better title I suppose. Granted size is limited—majorly limited in this country with a rising population of nearly 50 million crammed in a hilly slab of land comparable to Indiana—my living quarters still feel cramped. Maybe this because it’s “rainy” season—or more appropriately, STIFLING HUMDITY season and there is no AC in my room—just one overworked fan and this silly orange foam thing I purchased in Goesan but neglected since I had extraordinary AC at my previous location. Needless to say, I am sweating healthily.

Furthermore, I now have a family to grapple with. Let’s be frank, folks. I haven’t been a family member per say for quite some time now. It’s the silly stuff that gets me—like when is it okay to leave the living room after I stare at my host brothers and giggle for 45 minutes while they make airplane noises and make helicopters out of one another—or when can I get up from the dinner table—and do I have to watch the “family” TV shows (Korean TV shows are like Disney/Nickelodeon on speed—WHA! As the Koreans would say)—and my favorite, Why does the fruit have to be stored next to the kimchi? It always has a faint taste of that rotten cabbage.

Besides the logistics, I’ll share some knowledge I have acquired about myself. Perhaps this will be humorous—it was for me at least.

1) The first day I arrived at my school (Thursday, “D-Day” or Departure Day when my co-teacher came to Jungwon University to claim me among 100 other Fulbright Grantees/ETAs) I went to the principal’s office. Now, let me preface this—Korea is a hierarchical society. Titles are important and honored. Thus, the principal holds the most prestigious position in the school. At any rate, I am sitting across from and my beautiful and thankfully, English-speaking co-teacher is seated next to me translating my awkward introduction/small talk conversation with my principal.

Grace (co-teacher) turns to me and says, “Did you understand him?”

Me- “No, sorry…” Of course, I am smiling.

Grace- “He said you are very beautiful.”

Me- Blushing, “Oh, well, thank you.” Giggle.

Grace- “Is that, uh, okay? Okay to say that?”

Me- “Well, yes. Well, maybe, that is not to common in the U.S., but I understand it is different here. It is okay because other people have said similar things here.”

Yes, my principal digs me. Good start so far.

**Side note** Korean culture is a high-context culture. It is offensive to make direct statements and requests. Thus, there is a lot of ambiguity in conversation marked by the use of “maybes,” “I think it may be difficult…,” “Perhaps, we can…” I thought it would be challenging to adopt this style of communication, for it differs quite staunchly from American’s low-context style; however, it is so common that I have inevitably adapted to this style without too much effort. Ironically, I am here to teach English and my English is suffering. I am forced to speak slower to ease comprehension and in return, my brain is now processing English less fluently. Language is a sly beast.

2) All students, boys included, flock to ask if my hair is “real.” The first day I mistakenly thought they were insinuating that I was wearing a wig. Silly me. Some of my girl students have shared, in choppy English, that they want “same, same!”

3) Yesterday a boy screamed out that I was “handsome,” only to be corrected by his students that that is for boys.

4) My first lesson is a Jeopardy style game with questions about me. Students must form two teams and select an English team name. Some of my favorite names: “I love Moga,” “Tom and Jerry,” “IndianaJOHNS,” and “Sexy Perfect Pig.” These innovative names came from the male gender.

5) I went to the “Hair Shop” to have my hair colored (basically my roots touched up) and trimmed. However, I left with broke, bleached, and bewildered. Here is my Korean hair salon experience: Go to shop, sit down, have some coffee at the café within the shop, look at Korean-style fashion mags (Marie Claire, GQ, and Vogue), have hairdresser evaluate the quality of my hair, find quality is “not good” so I need a “treatment” or “nutrients” for my hair, then discuss how my hair is highlighted not colored, find comparable Korean color, hold my breath that it will not turn orange, have my head massaged, then receive “treatment,” have scalp massage again (AWESOME!), and then begin the cut, learn that they spilt the forehead in sections of ten, decide to get a 7/3 cut so my bangs cover a little more than 2/3 of forehead, learn that layers are not too popular in Korean, get “Essence” on hair (or more appropriately, “serum”), see that I am blonder or more of a “Korean blonde” as my boyfriend likes to say, learn that that my hair is finer than Koreans and I must buy special shampoo to help restore the condition of my hair, learn that shampoo and conditioner and treatment costs nearly 70,000 won or ($70), too bashful to say no, purchase that and hair treatment, and leave store without my phone and empty pockets. This was the second day at my placement. Phew.

6) I shared a small photo album with my host mother of photos from the past 5-6 years. She told me I look “so cute” in some. Also, that I look skinner with my hair pulled back. She said I look too chubby and my face looks fat with my hair down. Oh yeah, she said my dad is “so handsome.” At least someone passed the tough scrutiny of Korean beauty standards.

7) I live above an art academy. The hallways are colorful and cheery.

8) “Angel in-us Coffee” has become my personal haven. It has the “World Best Coffee.” That slogan just makes me smile.

9) Korean doctors are legit and remarkably affordable. Possible sinus infection?? Take a head x-ray. Strained vocal chord? Provide images of inside throat. Incredibly precise and informational. Also, the ENT doctor (Ear, Nose, and Throat) spoke bloody good English and his father studied at Ohio State! What a small world I tell ya.

10) As I mentioned before, Korean culture is a group culture. Therefore family meals are served from one or many dishes in which they all eat from. However, since I am westerner, I get my own plate. I feel like a princess sometimes.

11) Obsessive cleaning mother: my mother vacuums religiously every morning at 7:45 AM. We do not even have carpet!

12) Tissue paper in trash: Tissue paper is not thrown into the toilet, but rather into the trash can. This is especially true in public areas.

13) Brush teeth: Koreans love to brush their teeth. It’s like a bonding experience. After a meal, all flock to their toothbrushes.

14) Slippers in school: I wear “slippers” in school. So, my routine is: wear flats to school daily, take them off, slip on funny little slipper socks and then slide my feet in my awesome BIRKS. It’s a little strange, because students still wear their slippers outside? So, I am not sure of the purpose.

15) Asking about boyfriend: all girls want to know if I have a boyfriend. Besides my hair color, they all want to know this precious bit of information.

Long-winded I know. I apologize. I am up-to-date now, though so as I promised before, I will try to stay on board.

p.s. MOGA is a type of fruit in Korea. I am not sure which, but I will be sure to share the details when I find out! This is of constant amusement here.