Making Wine out of Sour Grapes of Wrath

To start out this entry, I thought about today. It's December and we are experiencing a bit of rain today after no snow, and uncertainty about the seasons here in Daegu, South Korea. Technically, winter doesn't start until December 21st and I think Korea is one of the first places I have ever lived that sticks by that calendar, not a snow flake to be seen. I have always been amused (sometimes to the point of laughing) when I watch the fear of fear when a person is caught outside without an umbrella. The local populace here seems to believe that the rain will melt them. I have seen people go through great lengths to avoid getting wet, the shimmy walk, the courageous dash into a convenience store or coffee shop, or standing under an awning to avoid the water at all costs. Water is kryptonite.

Today, I forgot my umbrella. Today, I just walked with my hat and coat and smiled and the rain proceeded to fall in its steady stream. Everytime I spied a look of horror, my smile grew bigger. I just kept thinking about all of the things that could be worse and my damn smile was pasted on my face, maybe the rain affected my sensibilities and made me a bit snarky. It is OK and sometimes OK is a wonderful feeling. I people are going through a lot of things right now and I know it's not my job to fix others and try to tell them it will all go away. I have this problem, where I just want people to be happy. I really do. Sometimes get annoyed with my positive nature. Sometimes people get annoyed with my big picture focus. I can't help that about myself. Just as much as I can't control the reaction to rain that I see in South Korea.

Life is messy. You get wet sometimes, and if you appear like a drowned rat, it isn't the end of the world. I guess it doesn't bother me if my mascara runs down my face and I laugh a little too loud and I am soaked to the bone. What I have thought about were all of those little lists I would make.
This is not important to anyone, but it was for me. I was told about the scarcity factors in Korea and I was provided a list of what I would not find in South Korea. My goal was to find everything on the list, like a hunt to debunk the list. At the top of my list was French Wine....yes I adore it, in moderation of course. However, I rekindled this passion with a distinct snobbish attitude that I am almost not proud of. Actually more in fun. I wanted to find as French Wine as possible...and if I had a bathtub...I would have bathed in it, just to say I did it.
However, I did the intelligent thing, I drank Merlot, Cabernet, Bordeaux, and in a pinch just table red wine that was bottled in France. My chief complaint was about trying to have a campaign in Korea about red wine. I foot stomped my point in as many restaurants and bars as possible, even having to uncork some bottles myself for the wine stewards (yes, they asked for my help)...to please serve the wine at room temperature. I can get zealous about things...forgive me.

I did have the pleasure of going to a strange vineyard, in a tunnel...however, persimmons are not grapes...so does this count?

I have enjoyed the sounds and sights of music, the culture, and it reinforced for me...never, ever, let anyone tell you what is impossible. Impossible is a word for quitters...and maybe that is why I love to do things the hard way, the impossible way, because it never is impossible. I never said it had to be easy, just sweeter.

Reflections along the way

I discovered during this journey how much I grew to love teaching. You hope to learn a lot about yourself through the eyes of your students. You see how fearful they can be when you first walk into that classroom, especially when you are not at all like them. It has been an amazing experience integrating with a culture that has just as many complexities as anywhere else.

The curtain is getting ready to close and I know I have less than three weeks in Daegu. There has been so much that I have seen and experienced here, much more than had I visited as a tourist. I have seen the beautiful heart that is present here. I have also seen closed minds with an air of superiority, just as you would see in any other part of the world. Sometimes a foreign view threatens the status quo. The stereotypes that hinge on cultural behavior can only be changed by individuals. I have learned to see through the appearances that are so carefully protected.

I have learned to be humoured by comparing the differences, like going to a movie theater and wanting to ask why all ticket holders receive assigned seats instead of being able to sit where you want. Then again, why ask why? Sometimes you just go with the flow and look at the seating chart to find your seat.

I have also been inspired by the creativity I have seen blossom. The creation of a space station out pieces of vegetation and apples from a six-year-old girl, named Kelly, made me realize I taught them more than English. I was also pleased to hear of one my students winning an art competition in the city. It is with these little touches on their lives, seeing their achievements, how much they have learned and have grown; I realized my own growth through them as well.

So as I watched kindergarten graduation pictures taken this week, for a graduation I won't be present for, I smiled for the camera as well. I was one of their first teachers. They were my first students. You really never forget your first teachers and I won't forget mine. It has been an honor to have been part of their lives.

Time to Take Five - Egypt, Art, Wine, Vines, and Jazz and other observations

It's time for a trip around the world, and time to talk about time. It will be time for me to leave South Korea soon. Everything seemed to call attention to time for me. This time, I walked by one of my favorite stops, and a new collage made by young hands caught my eye. It has been an incredible year here in Korea. I have had an experience that has enriched me in so many ways. Though this blog, I have also had a voice to share my observations, my encounters with local populace, my explorations in the culture, and having the experience of being an outsider looking in. I have grown in my appreciation of what it means to be different. The superficial differences gave way to looking at what unifies us all. The ways we communicate, dress, our physical features do not make us who we are. I do hope I return one day, perhaps it may be sooner than we think. I have been enriched by the blogs I tend to read on days when I seem to want more of the world.

Ramona dropped by, author of Alone in Holy Land to let me know about this gift of appreciation for me. I really appreciate it when someone likes my work, so here, in this forum I say thank you Ramona. In turn, there are five blogs I am passing this award on to. Of the many blogs that I have read and looked at, these are just a sample of the ones I really enjoy. In no particular order I invite you to take a look at the following blogs.

1. Bernadette Simpson's Escapade through Egypt is a wonderful photoblog that goes from A-Z. I sometimes feel dusty when I look at her blog...the images are incredible and captures a complete range of life through her lens.
2. I was drawn to this blog because of my love for literature, the name caught my eye. The writing style is magic, and I see the genius in his words. Gertrude's Flat with Derek Osborne is a worthy blog to sit down and explore.

3. One of my passions in life is Jazz. I found someone who is absolutely more obsessed by this passion. The education, the stories, the factoids...not to mention the sounds this blog brings to me...a pleasure that makes me appreciate the art even more. On This Day in JAZZ! is a must for those who think they know everything to know about Jazz. Confetta you are brilliant!

4. Canadian Artist, Earthula Black, AKA Elaine Bergland, has a wonderful show room of art that is a reflection of all she desires in life. I just love her style and she will work at her craft as long as she breathes. The Glamorous Life is a must view for your own private showing.

5. This next blog is really a labor of love. There is a bed and breakfast in the South of France that I have been following. I have read their stories of struggles their vines, their animals, and the life that is just so wonderful, simple, rich, and full of well...love. The love of their life...all of it. Le Couvent, Roujon in Languedoc, France is captured by the wonderful and charming Lizzie Betts-Gosling. If anything I want to do in this life...I want to go their vineyards, put on some work gloves and get to work. Maybe I will some day soon. It would be worth it to delay some plans for this adventure, not to mention the wine.

The other place I would like to refer all lovers of art and established and emerging artists is a wonderful venture called discovered artists. An enterprising web site and blog for established and emerging artists to come together with lovers of art in a global venture; which everything is. I discovered this wonderful haven, a vehicle for artists, Discovered Artists.com which enables artists to sell their work directly to the public, and opportunities to share more about your projects.

This picture is proof that Koreans do have bathtubs. I laughed thinking about my shower sink, and thought for a moment if I should ask for one of these 'planters' to take home.

Another sign it is almost time to go is the tree that just went up near where I teach. Yes, it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas and almost time for tea.

More posts to follow...

A Verse from the Book of Lena

In the name of the Mother, the Daughter and the Spirit that combines us all …

I’m not religious, but I will direct to you a prayer of thanks … I don’t usually pray but as days go by you will understand this also means how important the Mother has really been for me, my life, my existence, my solitude and my independence … she gave me freedom and a goodbye to all that was old. Some change doesn’t harm I think, as long as it is for the better.

For a person to whom I have all to thank for, who gave me life by giving hers, metaphorically. The Mother for the Daughter who stood up and fought, already tired after all of those years of combat, you still have to hand it to her. A prayer of gratitude for her kindness and sense of justice, for her battle as a proud woman protecting one of her children, doing everything she can … to be able to give me a life, worth being lived, a life of change, constant movement, true, but what was the alternative? Nothing worth to be called a life. And after all the spirit, that gave us synchronicity: the right events, the right time, the right place, … A necessity for my own development.

As such a woman gave birth to me, Lena, twice, short for Magdalena, and she would do it trice too. Magdalena, lover of the Son, fulfilling her role for a complete Holy Threesome. The Mother, The Father, The Daughter, The Son, the Holy Spirit and The One that combines us all … heretic but in this case for once to the point.


Image and verse by Lena Vanelslander. Editor in Chief of Gloom Cupboard,


This month was a pleasure, a time of gratitude; reminding me to be thankful for all of those who come into my life. I am thankful to have had my friends share with you their stories, their work, and their experiences so that you didn't just have the tunnel of my vision while I was in Korea. I have had this month to capture my moments, and while I was here, I had the pleasure of working with Lena Vanelslander on a work of our versions of poetic license. We achieved much more than an anthology of words, captured with our quills of fire (which is also the title of our anthology). Our collaboration spun a tapestry of a beautiful friendship, where we able to bear our souls to each other. She is an incredible young talent from Ghent, Belgium who will soar high with the eagles, and I can say I had the pleasure of writing with her. As I prepare to leave Korea next month, I wanted to remember in this travel log, the little things, the details, the pleasures, and the wonder of what is to be apart from a society that is really not so different. Thank you Korea for this experience. Life is always worth turning the page.

The Half Finished Confessions of Craig Mason

I met Craig Mason, a young artist, and expatriate teacher in Daegu, at the launch party of Daegu Pockets, and of course I ran into him again at an International Art Show, at the Daegu EXCO, and later on when he was slaving away during Crap Art at Club That. When I asked Craig to contribute my blog, he quickly volunteered, and I was actually inspired his reply. I myself, was stuck in some sort of writer's stalemate, over thinking the direction where I was going. His email and contribution woke me up. Other friends of mine had given up, life events overtook their art, and for others, a simple, "ahhhhhhhhhhh, about that project" gave way. I know what I committed to, and this year, I have not had the luxury to agonize non-stop at my keyboard. So, with my notebooks strewn across the floor I went back to work and I will finish, because there is something good about keeping your commitments. THANK YOU CRAIG, your email came at the right time.

WARM-BLOODED ANIMAL


It's what we are in this place, or used to be,
Where we've been, where we come from, how we got here,
Who we know, what we have before us, how
The world on its own is here without us, how

Life is a mysterious fog we live in, how
Dreams go backwards, fix themselves in the form of
Beliefs grown over us here, us saying
We could have been struggling here, strangled even,

Said of we believe in ourselves at last,
Brought into focus by it being said we did
Cruise over the world here, in the air verily,
Believed in as this wide world we know, and shouting all the while.

Verse and Images by Craig Mason

Hey Marilyn,
I've been in a similar situation as Amber in trying to represent gratitude for Korea.
It reminds me of when I had to write a short paper about The Feminine Mystique for an American Studies class---eventually, after a year, I finally turned in a poem about a mother resting her eyes as dinner baked in the oven, a cat quizzically eying the cupboards every time his owner opened them, and a student eating peanut butter out of a jar in procrastination.
The professor admitted he didn't understand the poem, but granted me poetic license, and gave me a C for the course.

Maybe if I were to send you a segment of a poem, a picture of the girl I like, and a painting I've been working on, you would give me less than a C!---but it's better than nothing, right?!:
Yes Craig, It's alright. It's as real as life gets. Thank you.

Thankful Impact; the Personal Growth of Guest Blogger Justin Pierce Baldwin Gerald

What can I say about my four-named friend, Justin Pierce Baldwin Gerald? Justin is a dynamo, my favorite feminist, and he loves to stir the pot...but he doesn't run from the thoughts he stirs up in others. This brilliant young man has been a pleasure to get to know. From gatherings of trivia challenges to see how much our expatriate community knows while under the influence to crossing cultural boundaries of our in-the-box thinking...here is Justin Pierce Baldwin Gerald, a man of many talents.
What I am Grateful for
By: Justin Pierce Baldwin Gerald

What am I grateful for in Korea? Education.
I’m grateful for the chance to try and be a great educator for me 800 students, who still see me as something of an ambassador, a role I’ve done my best to fulfill adequately.

I’m grateful to see them grow and change, not only as students of English, but young adults of the world.

I’m grateful for the chance to educate myself. My job allows me a lot of free time, and while I certainly have my fun, I spend a lot of it reading and writing, and, as some know, trying to stir up discussion among interested parties. During my vacations, I’ve tried to stay away from purely party locales – which isn’t to say I was completely sober in, say, Saigon – and done my best to come away from my trips with a greater understand of the world I am a part of.

I’m grateful to be living in a country that, for all its flaws (and every country has them), tends to treat me with the respect I feel I deserve. I’m grateful to have had the chance to educate myself through the extremely varied people I’ve met over the last 21 months, people who speak every language and live in every corner of the globe. New York is diverse, but the grab bag of foreigners here is something I’ve been glad to dive into.

I’m grateful to have learned a sliver of a new language, even though I could have studied harder. And I’m glad I’ve used my time here productively, so I can return home truly saying I grew up just a little bit.

Before I left New York, I told myself that, no matter what happened, my time in Korea was going to be used to kickstart adulthood. The half-year or so before I came here I was a bum. I was broke, living on my dad’s couch, buying DVDs and watching them alone, eating and drinking and gaining weight, and being rightfully scolded for doing so. As I prepare to return home in February – after a few short trips abroad – I am grateful that I’ve done all the wallowing I’ll ever do, and from this day forward, it’s merely onward and upward.

And I’m grateful that I can say that at the age of 23, because most people aren’t lucky enough to have that chance at any age.

The Helping Hand of a Stranger in a Strange Land - Guest Blogger Stephen Cornman

It is my pleasure to introduce Stephen Cornman. Stephen Cornman is an American expatriate teacher and writer in Daegu, South Korea. Atypical of the normal demographic of what we would find, Stephen has also served as a mentor, sage advisor, and friend to our wonderful fresh faced collegues; who realized there was life outside of the bottom of a soju bottle...Stephen Cornman, but you can call him Steve.

The Helping Hand of a Stranger in a Strange Land
By: Stephen Cornman

Six weeks after I arrived in Korea, in the fall of 2008, I hiked up and down Palgongsan, the mountain just north of Daegu, without incident. It was after that, in the always dangerous boarding-the-bus process, that I broke my face.

Upon demountaining, I walked a quarter-mile to the first pick-up point for the bus. I stopped at the men's room, then resumed walking to the bus stop. I hadn’t gone far, hadn’t even put my daypack on my back, when I saw the bus pulling out of the parking lot and up to the bus stop.
I have a tip you won’t see in Lonely Planet Korea: don’t sprint for the bus in clunky hiking boots, on a broken sidewalk (which is the default for sidewalks in Daegu), carrying your pack in front of you. You will break your face.
Running as fast as I could, I caught my toe on a loose brick (which you can see in the photo) and pitched forward at an impressive velocity. I remember a split-second thought: this is going to be embarrassing, almost falling in front of the people waiting for the bus. My next thought was: look at all the blood.

I fell on the left side of my face, broke my glasses, cut my lip a little, scraped my hands, ripped and bled all over my t-shirt, broke my watch strap, and laid open my face next to my left eye. It was the second time in my life that I had driven my glasses into the left side of my face; the first time was 35 years before, in my first, and last, attempt to play ice hockey. If you have to fall on your head, I recommend doing it on ice; it’s cleaner.

I sat there, not in pain, but utterly stunned, feeling humiliated, disoriented (if in fact it’s proper to use that word in East Asia), helpless, and very far from home indeed.

Thankfully, I had an angel. A Korean man in full hiking regalia came over to see if I was okay, wiped off as much blood as possible, using paper towels and his drinking water, stayed with me, tried to tell me where I was bleeding from (though as he had no English...), let me call my boss on his cell phone, and called an ambulance. I got frustrated that I couldn't tell him how wonderful he was being to me. I just kept saying "kamsahamnida" a lot, and shook his hand and bowed from the waist when the ambulance came. He must have taken 45 minutes out of his day to help me.

At the hospital, the doctor determined I had only contused my shoulder (yeah, that's a word. It is now, anyway.) He sent me for x-rays in case I had broken my crown.

As Yogi Berra said, they x-rayed my head and found nothing.

Eventually, I healed, with no permanent scar and no drain bramage.
My point here, though, is my gratitude to the anonymous Korean angel who took a large chunk out of his day, after a hard hike on the mountain, to care for a total stranger, a foreigner with whom he couldn’t even talk. I was simply someone who desperately needed help, and he helped me, beyond what I had any right to expect. Sometimes the Korean people en masse seem unwelcoming to a waegook, but on a one-to-one basis I’ve usually found them to be warm and welcoming. I will always be thankful to the anonymous man who threw me a lifeline when I needed it most.