A Taste of Egypt in Seoul

I went out today with newly-found friends whom I met from my most recent UNESCO stint, and the Seoul Friendship Fair that I went to a few weeks back. Fatima, the Egyptian lady whom Ate YY and I met at the city hall fair, invited us over at the National Museum of Korea for an exhibit on Egyptian Civilization.

It was an “all-girls” day-out, as I dragged another Filipino friend to join us, since we both had an affair to go to in the afternoon as well. So the group consisted of two Filipinos (Kat and I), a Chinese (Olivia), an Egyptian (Fatima), and three Koreans (Ate YY, Ms. Sophie, and a classmate of Fatima in the English academy— I forgot her name, so sorry!)


We all met at Exit 2 of the Ichon subway station (Line 4, Light Blue Line) at ten in the morning. Kat and I were a bit late (uh-oh), but as we completed the “ensemble”, we all went to the museum, anyway.

It was indeed a nice morning, as the weather had the right mix of sunshine and air to occasionally brush my hair. It was quite a walk from the station to the museum, and I sure had enough time to notice the children who were walking with us. It’s cute to see a number of them eagerly strutting their way to go inside the long and wide building that houses the museum.

We paid man won (10,000 won) for the entrance ticket, and armed with our cameras (which were actually prohibited inside the museum), we strolled along all that there is to see inside-- all that speak of Egypt’s rich history and culture.

No history class passes by any grade school student without that student at least hearing about Egypt and the pyramids. He would instantly have that sepia picture of a man-faced lion beside a 3-dimensional triangle. That’s how they usually show it in textbooks. And even though the student does not fully understand at that time why people are amazed at such structure that would’ve looked really dull, had it not been placed beside a half-man and half-lion— the student goes on remembering such edifice anyway. Egypt and the pyramids are plain classics in the “historical attractions” category.

As the student grows older, his knowledge of the lion and the triangle expands to knowing that there actually were buried people inside what he now calls a “pyramid” (not a triangle anymore). He'd picture these dead people as covered with mile-long tissue papers until he grows up more to afford a US$10-worth of museum tour and see an actual wrapped-dead creature himself. He finally thinks of the idiot who made up the whole tissue-wrapped image of a mummy, when he realizes that there has been so much sophistication poured in burying the dead in ancient Egypt.

History and culture-rich places like Egypt therefore makes you dream of traveling the world, really. You suddenly marvel at the past— a colorful past that has contributed so much to what civilizations are like at present. Pasts that make museums US$10 worthy.

If I were to travel to Egypt though, I need to take extra care when crossing the streets there. I was told that there are no traffic lights in the country. I should then need to get back to my running routines as well, just so I could outsmart the fast drivers in that once, camel-driven nation. I mean, I won’t be surprised if having no traffic lights has long given birth to reckless drivers in the country. If these hunchbacks instead ruled the streets in Egypt, it would have then been a perfect trip to old, yet funky Nile-town ;-)

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My Typical Emotional Rollercoaster Ride

Sundays have primarily been a church appointment and a Korean language class for me— occasionally alternating on the time that I actually hear the mass (9am- Myeongdong Cathedral / 1.30pm- Hyehwa church / 7.30 pm- Sogang University’s chapel) and sometimes escaping my afternoon Hangeul language sessions when laziness simply strikes at me.

Some unusual air of enthusiasm seem to have breathed in me today though, to feel extra good about doing these same, old stuff. You know how it is when you’ve been doing things out of some habit or routine? Yeah, exactly just that. You kind of don’t take note of how significant they can actually turn out to be, especially if you have been doing them (1) out of sheer childhood practice and (2) just so you can chill out and meet people.


First, I never really realized how brilliant my Korean language teacher is, and how she could just be so patient and diligent in making us the best Korean speakers in town. She’ll have a real, hard time with me, though :-( I nevertheless told myself how today’s class has so far been the most enjoyable class that I attended, getting my daily doze of laughs, yet learning and remembering a lot.

Second, I was back to seeing my favorite priest at the church that I go to for my evening mass, and I realized how he has become such a personal inspiration. I look at him and I see meekness. I hear his words thru the homily, and I hear rock-solid voice of truth and wisdom. He even looks a bit of a Jesus Christ to me. I mean, he looks like the typical Jesus Christ the movies would make Christ look like. And with that, I am in awe.

It’s not like I haven’t seen my teacher and the priest do their jobs as I participate in it, it just makes me feel thankful now to have these kinds of people around. People who make a difference in me.

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Now as if fate has never gotten tired of making those sudden turn of events to put my emotions on a rollercoaster again— I went home from church and got an unexpected, yet subconsciously prayed for thing to happen. It was as simple as wanting to get the longed-for confirmation from someone, that he has fully known and understood such feelings thrown, JUST SO HE’D KNOW. Nothing more wanted, but to get feel good about myself having poured it all. The hell I care if he actually decides to just shrug it off, and go on with his life. Because by that time, I would be able to join him in doing the same.

But of course, since I have that subconscious self that housed the long, suppressed feelings recently expressed in a little shit of a letter, it was hard to teach it to keep away from what the subconscious self naturally looks for—- anything that makes oneself better and happy. When one tells about his suppressed feelings to someone, it is because that someone has never really felt the same about you, and you want him to feel the same way, too.

And so I cry for not getting what the subconscious self hopes for. But just the same, the ill-thinking side of me falls those tears for some kind of redemption from such high and dangerous clinging. That I could finally lose the grip, because there really is nothing to hold on to. It has been made visible with the words that I got back, which seemed as if the person has been so much affronted by his numbness and my bluntness, and so he just went on to say what anyone would be expected to say when he has hurt someone. And so he asked that I bear with him. Which is actually, near to saying sorry. But not, really.

This should end it. I got what I wanted. And I have to let it go.

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Weekend Playtime With Kids

I love kids. I mean, I really enjoy being with children. I don’t exactly know what it is called, but there’s just this special fondness that I have of them, and it makes me go high. It’s like I can be my most comfortable self to unconsciously pick my nose in front of them, and I won’t even be any kind of embarrassed in doing it. It must be the rawness of their minds, the innocence that people mistake as being less intelligent, when most of us know that they can even be way smarter than us sometimes— that draws me to them. Here I am stuck at getting older, technically acquiring more knowledge and experience, yet making things more complicated. I then talk to any kid licking on his ice cream, and I am again reminded of how life can just be anyone’s coned vanilla. Plain and smart-ass simple.


This special fondness of children made me volunteer for UNESCO’s Cross-Cultural Awareness Program. I found out about it online and attended an orientation that officially included me in the roster of foreigners in South Korea who said “yes” to the organization’s invite to a mutual exchange of culture with Korean students. Two weeks after the orientation, I finally got my first call for a Saturday class, and my, I couldn’t just be any more excited.

The UNESCO office informed me about my first stint a week before the date set by the head teacher of the school I was to hold the class at. One thing that astounded me with the class details was the big number of children that I had to handle. Come on, they’re fifty. That’s an educational system issue already, even in Philippine standards, to have a 1:50 teacher-student ratio. Anyway, with the help of my KIV (Korean Interpreter Volunteer), whom every CEV (Cultural Exchange Volunteer) like me should be paired up with, I was able to get further advice on how to go about with my class, particularly when the head teacher said that he would like it more if I’d brew some games or teach a dance or song to the kids.

So that’s how the subjects on Philippine traditional dances and games came about. There sure are a lot more interesting topics to come up with and share about my country, but I considered the head teacher’s request, and the fact that we’re talking of a big number of students whom I just cannot afford to bore with dates and names in Philippine history and those other serious craps.

And so Ate YY (my very nice and pretty KIV) and I have been exchanging e-mails and Skype messages since the day I got her mobile number thru the official UNESCO website where the invites are received and confirmed. I gave her my class outline, while she, in turn, gave pointers and even shared her experiences with her previous classes with other foreign volunteers. Our agreed meeting place at Line no. 1, exit 4 of the Cheongnyangni station then sealed our first travel adventure as one-day teachers.

The Saturday morning drizzle that I had to embrace along with the big, brown bag that I carried on my right shoulder was something that I sure was fine to deal with, as I excitedly rode the train to conform with our 7:20 am meeting time today. The big, brown bag had all my “class stuff” in it, anyway. Ate YY practically led the way in the whole travel, being the Korean that she is and the foreigner that I am in South Korea, *teehee*. She even had our tickets prepared prior to today, which was cool because she just showed her mobile phone, and we were off to our seats in the train that had the 7:50 am departure schedule. Apparently, she had bought our train tickets online, and had her receipt sent through her mobile phone. Oh the convenience of life, here is.

The head teacher had been waiting for us for a little more than five minutes after 9am, when we arrived in Cheongpyeong, after which he let us go inside his car so he could then drive for another 20 minutes. The school that we were going to is Miwon Elementary School, located in the province of Gyeonggi-do. It was a pretty big school to just house elementary students. The facilities were all new, that no one would actually think it is a public school. But nah-uh, it is. I then told YY how it can be hard to distinguish a public from a private school in South Korea, then. In the Philippines, public schools would usually have vandalized desks, overly-scratched green blackboards, broken jalousies, and very old arm chairs.

I hopped out of the car, still with my big, brown bag, as we finally arrived. Since it was drizzling, it didn’t really surprise me to see that there were no students even in the corridors of the school building. It was very quiet. Mr. Han, the head teacher, then prompted Ate YY and me to the principal’s office where the principal formally welcomed and gave us a little plaque of appreciation, which is technically called a “call of attorney”. After some small talk and picture taking, Mr. Han then led us to the indoor gym where the class will be held.

It was yet fifteen minutes before our ten o’ clock class, but all the kids were already seated in the steel chairs that were arranged at the center of the gym. Then there was that big brown table with a laptop and projector on, which practically told my a-bit nervous self that I should be anywhere near it. Ate YY had forwarded my class outline to Mr. Han, so he already knew what I would need for the class. I prepared a PowerPoint presentation and a very simple video, so those gadgets were what I exactly needed.

I was given ample time to prepare, since I had to make use of what my big, brown bag had to offer. It basically had all other paraphernalia, which I thought would help in making the class more meaningful. It’s where I took out my maps, my giveaways, and some other “props” for the class. I also drew out my outline and prepared spiels from it, just to guide me as I speak in front of these children. I never really know when I’d just suddenly go blank. Tsk. Tsk.

One thing I noticed with the class is how the seating arrangement was grouped according to gender, with the boys filling up the first two front rows. The girls were all at the back.

All the students were very active. I really enjoyed every minute of the whole cultural lecture, pacing around as I walk to a student for an answer to my question, then back again to the big, brown table in front. Since it was a pretty big gym, I used a microphone so that even the kids at the back would hear me. The students confidently responded to my little queries, not minding if they were already saying Jebu (Cebu) for an answer. They must’ve liked the idea of winning a prize for a correct answer, that I really saw a lot of hands raised in every question.

The most fun part of the class was when I tried to teach them the basic steps to a traditional dance called the Pandanggo sa Ilaw, where I gave each kid three paper cups as “props”, to replace the candled glasses that are normally used— two cups to hold with each hand, and one to balance on the head. The students sure spent a great deal of their time balancing the cup that they put on their heads, and it was funny how this led to them being a bit uncontrollable. I showed them a video of the dance prior to the actual teaching, so they knew how to use the three paper cups, as they have seen in the video. I then had to just instruct everyone to leave out that one cup to be put on the head, and to use just two cups for both hands, instead. I taught the basic swaying steps, and called on a girl whom I thought did it well to dance with me in front, as her classmates followed her. I gave her a prize for that :-).

Then the part I was most proud of. Along with the Philippine traditional dances, I have decided to also show to them some novelty dances in the Philippines, so I showed everyone the music video for the famous “Otso Otso” dance. I asked everyone to dance the famous moves for it, afterwards. They were sport enough to try it out with me, though I sure saw some kids who went a little uncomfortable with the idea, since it is a pretty hard dance to do. When it was time for me to choose the best dancer, I called on this fairly-browned girl at the back who was oh-so pro in dancing the “Otso-Otso”. As I have already thought, she’s half-Filipina and half-Korean. She was even way better than me.

And so as to make it even more memorable for my first class ever, how about a question from this handsome kid in front who have since been so active in making comments as I went along with my presentation? I remember him raising his hand just to tell me that he has drunk buko juice straight from its shell, which he said his family had bought from a supermarket here, and that it didn’t taste sweet for him. So to officially cap off my class for the day, he went on to ask, “Ate Ella, who is the president of the Philippines?” With it I said, “Her name is Gloria Macapagal Arroyo”. I made him say the name, to which he preferred to just smile and keep quiet ;-)

The warm cuddles from the students, especially the girls, as they approached me after class was the sweetest of all. Some asked me questions, some asked for my mobile number, some had their pictures with me taken from their mobile phone, while some plainly came up to me to give me a hug (which is the most memorable, really). I spent some minutes chatting with the Filipino kid in class and her classmates, and told her how I was so proud of her because she did well in dancing the “Otso-Otso”. Haha, way to go!




After the class, Ate YY and I ate lunch with Mr. Han, who had been busy taking the video of the whole lecture as we did our jobs earlier at the gym. It was very flattering to hear from the head teacher how he was very satisfied with what I did, to think that I was really having my first-time jitters, even seconds before I actually opened my mouth to talk in class. I gave Ate YY and Mr. Han my own small token of appreciation while on the table, and that pretty much loosened everything up in me. The early day has ended, and this by far, is one of the very few times when I felt like I did something so valuable and fulfilling. :-)

I'm now so excited about the succeeding invites to come!

(And here are some more pictures!!!)

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Whatthebook

It must be the laxity that I am getting from work these past weeks (thankfully) that suddenly pushed my whore-ish tendencies over books, and it made me itch for new paperbacks to read. It actually started with this Facebook (FB) application that I found out from somebody else’s profile. It’s called WeRead. I kind of liked it, so I added it to my FB profile, listing there all the books that I remember having read. I know I have not listed all, though. I then said that it would be nice if I could add more to my list, and so the search for new books to buy started. I am missing the books that I left back home in the Philippines.


There is a pretty neat online service from a foreign bookstore here in Korea that gave me my first ordered books online, ever. The bookstore is called Whatthebook, owned by an American guy named Chris, who is married to a Korean. I haven’t been to the actual store in Itaewon, though I would love to go there some time. Since the itch came while I was busy googling at work, I decided to get my new book-reads by having it delivered to our apartment. The website is very easy to navigate, with categorizations that make one's book selection very easy. I went ahead and checked out the “Used Books” section, and made my choices there. The site offers several payment options, and since I do not own a credit card, I went ahead and wired my payment from my bank account to the bookstore’s. It’s amazing because a few hours later, I got an e-mail already confirming such online order and payment.

I made the order and wired my payment on a Thursday afternoon, and the books arrived today, Friday. Which really makes a first-time customer like me extremely happy as it basically exceeds customer expectations :-). The site said that the delivery for my chosen books will be after two business days, and well, it came just the day after! Delivery days for books generally vary in the bookstore, depending on the availability of the chosen books.

Anyway, here's an attempt to balance my life in general with my newest book purchases:



I just thought I'd go back to reading the latest fiction reads, while still struggling to read on something related to my field of work. Haha, goodluck to me!

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Seoul International Friendship Day

I had the chance of checking out the Seoul International Friendship Day at the City Hall today, thanks to a needed, first-time meeting with my Korean Interpreter Volunteer (KIV) for a UNESCO-led cultural class that we both have to prepare for. Aside from this, I have been texted several times by a Chinese girl whom I met when I had my Cultural Exchange Volunteer orientation for the same organization, that I finally agreed to meet up with her on the same day that I have to meet with my KIV.


Just a brief backgrounder, I recently volunteered for the Cross-Cultural Awareness Program that UNESCO has for participants who want to share their country’s cultural backgrounds. It mainly wants to enhance the intercultural understanding of the Korean youth, therefore creating a constructive partnership between Koreans and global citizens as they interact and learn each other’s cultures.

It was an early day spent in the said area, since I agreed to meet up with Ms. YoonYoung (KIV) at eleven in the morning. There were expectedly a lot of people of all colors and sizes at the place, along with food and novelties to try and buy. Ate YY and I of course checked out the Philippine booth to see if there’d be anything that we can grab as materials for our class. The booth basically showcased the country’s most commonly exported tropical fruits-- bananas and pineapples, with sago at gulaman on the sides. There was even a free taste of our sweet pineapples! Aside from the fruits and drinks, native stuff like bracelets, purses, and bags were also showcased for sale. I ended up buying some native pencil cases and wooden balls as prizes for the kids. I also grabbed some brochures and booklets about the Philippines for free.


Then the long walk followed, with YY and I checking out each booth from the country that we felt like going to!

1.) A fun, fun, fun performance from Mexico. Way to go, Korean fellah!


2.) A band performance from Austria's finest men! Haha.


3.) A barbecue experience with Ms. Republic of Cote D'Ivoire. The barbecue smelled just oh-so good! The lady didn't like the star treatment that I gave her, obviously. Way too shy. Ha-ha!


4.) A taste of Malaysian food. I forgot the name already, tastes like curry though.


5.) Window shopping at India's mini flea market


6.) Name-lettering at Turkey's booth. That guy was all-sweaty.


7.) Food fest at the Egyptian booth. It's gold finger (very sweet and syrup-y) and koushari (rice with beans and other stuff in it, hehe).


Then the non-stop pictures went on! A parade of beauties from all nations, wahahahaha.


What's nice about events like these is it really makes you strutt more confidently as a foreigner in a country, all-pretty to make friends with other people. A highlight of this day in regard to this whole idea of "friendships" is the very amiable Fatima, the Egyptian lady whom YY and I met at the Greek booth. Ate YY and I fell in line to check out the sweet pastries in the said booth, when Fatima suddenly approached us to ask what we were falling in line for. She then explained that she is a Greek History major who was plain curious about what the Greek booth had to offer. After we finally got our sweets, we then went inside the Egyptian booth to eat our Greek sweets, while Fatima added her very own "gold finger" and "koushari" for us to taste as well. All yummy! :-)



Fatima, YY, and I

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A Night of Orchestra

Classical music has almost always come along with an orchestra, or vise versa. Now some people may find an orchestra tedious, given the complexities of such instruments played, and classical music as boring. I’ve never really been a classical music freak myself, though I am able to once in a while find special cravings for such sound, usually when I simply want to subconsciously put caressing pillows under such mind of mine that would clutter itself with all the strains of the real world. I honestly have such great respect for the genre and the people who can excellently play musical instruments that are typically used to play such relaxing and soothing music. Combine these people and their melody toys, and a certain musical sophistication arises.



I got a free invite to Brigham Young University’s (BYU) Wind Symphony and the US 8th Army Band’s performances held at the KBS Hall today, thanks to a late afternoon call from my good friend, Lemons, who had access to the event. She’s actually a student from the said university. The concert venue was just a few meter stroll from my workplace, which was probably why my friend thought of hitching me in.

Songs such as Bugler’s Holiday (Leroy Anderson), Molly on the Shore (Percy Grainger), and Dance of the Jesters (Peter I. Tchaikovsky) were played (not that I personally know the songs— I just copied them from the concert programme:-D), and I just cannot help but be drawn to how the incredibly many and varied instruments on stage were able to create such music that came together and homogenously blended themselves beautifully. I know that an orchestra technically follows a generally accepted hierarchy, with each instrumental group (woodwind, brass, percussion, and strings) having a “principal” that gets to occasionally do solos in a song or piece. Nevertheless, support from the subordinate instruments makes it richer and vibrant in sound, therefore removing such technical concept of a “hierarchy”. Each instrument is just as magnificent as everybody else.



What makes an orchestra performance even more appealing is the presence of a conductor, whom I equally give such respect to (even with his face turned against me). It was just so riveting to see him on stage do a soft sway of his head and hands at one count, then do a stomp with his feet and stiffen his whole body the next, to command everyone in the orchestra to stop. Such power of a stick. I wonder if they have a technical term for that musical wand? You look at the conductor’s movements, and he seems to be doing such an easy and seemingly unimportant job, until he again do that quick, heavy throw of both hands this time, and the whole ensemble suddenly silences. Amazing. That’s the part in every song performance that I actually like- whenever the conductor do that halting hand command.

Here’s a sneak peek of the concert, with the symphony’s rendition of the Korean traditional song called Arirang. It's a bonus track actually, done after all the songs in the programme were played.

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Plain Vanilla Vent (Cough-Free)

My length of stay here in South Korea is long enough to mold and bring forth a child into this world, had I actually been a pregnant mother who arrived here last August. Recalling the nine months that I have wrestled for my independence in this country, I can now understand why and how I am able to have this time to do some thinking... or reflections, if I should get any deeper.


I just got back from a one-week vacation, thanks to the three days of sick leave that I took on the working days that came in between the May 1 and May 5 holidays of this year (following the South Korean working calendar). Well, I must say that I have always been a smart ass in requesting for leaves in the office on “sandwich-ed working days” so I can have the luxury of calling these short leaves as ample vacation time.

The seven days of vacation that I got (3 sick leaves + 2 weekends + 2 holidays) would have been a grand time for me to spend outdoors. I mean, I have actually gone theme-parking and late night bar drinking on normal weekends. But God sure knows how to create the irony of my having more time to keeping it idle at home. For one, God gave me a prolonged cough, which is actually the main reason why I called for the sick leaves. My body has finally succumbed to the pressure and stress of work that I yearned for my pillows and bed sheets, instead of the sun that has started to shine amid the transition from winter to spring.

In the days that I have slacked it off at home, I couldn’t be more grateful to have such a kind housemate to accompany me to the clinic so I can get my prescription, as well as get my shots for the freakin’ cough that has rattled everyone in the office with the noise that it has been making. And part of the idle time, I have mustered enough nostalgia to create my first picture collage abroad, admitting how I am seriously missing my folks back in the Philippines.

A lot has really happened in the past nine months—- have felt bad and cried over my first office presentation ever, not to mention my tripping by the subway stairs for not getting enough sleep the night before; have used my allotted vacation leaves to move to a new apartment, which everyone in the office knew even before I would’ve formally told them; have gone from jolly to almost stoic in the office, bearing the occasional solo-flight lunches; have gone past six different teams that required monthly PowerPoint presentations that sure plodded me to work on some Saturdays, yet mostly to no avail; have attended weekly Hangeul classes, more so to meet friends and have a diversion than to seriously learn the language; have written a long letter to someone to end such foolish, unidentifiable kind of “keeping in touch” with each other; and basically struggled to live each day not understanding what I am doing things for and why I am doing them in the first place.

I can attribute such unbearable stress to the main problem of not knowing and fully understanding my role and worth in the workplace. I got irrationally carried away by the rollercoaster run of its environment, struggling to grip on the rails, yet keeping my eyes shut. There was of course that great, pleasant welcome to the prestige of such tenure, but it was so easy to forego, given the bloated expectations born out of my “special” case. I am a foreigner, a young breed at that, stereotyped to be full of potential. They think that I have a second tongue to express myself more, and so they believe that everything is comprehensible.

Sometimes though, what you think your mind understands is not sincerely read by the heart that is trapped by the ambiguity of the ground where you should really step on. You then think if the biggest decision that you had to make in your life was actually worth the stake.

I am not complaining about where I am now. It would be of extreme arrogance to act and even think that way. There are people who would so much want to be in the same field of work that I am currently in, and they can anytime despise me and make themselves more worthy to take my place, if they hear me not realizing how I am plain lucky to even have this job. I guess what I just need is that concrete tag above my head that tells of what I should be really doing to contribute to the workplace that I am in. A ROLE. No matter how minute and miniscule it is, is worth my much-clamored identity in this foreign land.

Ending my first day at work after this long vacation, relaxed as ever with no for-work-sake task so far (I hope it won’t be too long though), I hope to firm myself with my role as I learn the changes in my workplace today. I am technically part of a team, and it is faintly drawing the borders to my “identity” tag.

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