Picture supplied from Colleen.

I love it.

Yedea English Academy

The entrance to the school has these large, scary Snow White figurines.

My slippers I wear everyday. All shoes must come off at the entrance.

A typical Korean lunch. Rice, soup, vegetables and some type of meat. It's not the best food, but it isn't horrible. Plus it is free. 

Where some of the people, who work at the school eat. They sit on the stools and use the blue

cushion as the table. I opt for my classroom, when I eat.

My classroom. It might be changing next week, when the new school year starts. Kindergartens schools go year round. The new school year starts in March for every school.

I use the computer screen to teach from a selection of English programs. 

The mini sinks. 

The mini toilets that never seem to get flushed. There are adult sized toilets, too.

We keep a roll of toilet paper in the classroom. You take what you need before you go. It also doubles as tissues, just like home. We never had tissues growing up, we just used rolls of toilet paper.

These are sanitizing, toothbrush holders. The kids brush their teeth after every lunch. Korean food usually leaves you with bad breath.

All the kids share one cup at the water fountain. Its always the same orange cup. I have never seen it get washed. 

The cups the kids use for lunch in a sanitizing holder.. Every kid has their own cup and bring their own tray and chopsticks from home.

Another classroom.

One of the shelve areas for the kids shoes. Also, the fish tank is one of the many school pets, which also include ants, lizards, turtles, frogs and hedgehogs.

Hongul, Korean writing.

Jisu, one of my favorite students, but he is now going to elementary school.

This is my favorite class, white class.

Jisu, Bryan, Billy and Eric. Jisu is the trouble child, but is adorable. Bryan helps me and tels Jisu to be quiet. They get English names, when they are five years old. I have one class of elementary kids and the one boy still didn't have an English name. I was told to name him. I tried to name him Max, but he didn't like it. I think we settled on Bryan, but he still doesn't respond to it.

Isabel, Sarah and Monica. These girls are really smart and their English is impressive. They are seven in Korean years, but they are actually six. Koreans consider that they are one years old at birth. And birthdays are not a huge deal here. Everyone gets older basically at the same time at the start of the new school year.

The other day all the new students and their parents came in to be introduced to the teachers and the school. A couple of the mothers and aunts came up to talk to me. They told how thankful they are for me to be here. They wanted to make sure I liked Korea. One mother with her newborn strapped to her, was telling me how she studied English in Australia for two years. She wish she could speak English more, but now she feels useless cause she is just with the baby all day and doesn't talk to anyone. I told her how being a mom is the most important job and she replied,"I tell myself that, but I don't always believe it."  It was kind of sad. In Korea, most everybody gets married by thirty. If you aren't you are looked at funny. Most women don't work because they stay home with the children. Even though most women don't pursue careers, they still intensely study and go to college. 

Another Saturday in Hongdae.

The cave. So we attempted to go to this hookah bar, but when we got there it was full. So one of the workers walked us down the street to this animal farm, cave place. The ceilings were twenty plus feet, we had our own stucco finish cave and drums we found stuffed in the corner.

The DJ booth no one was ever at, but their was a steady stream of Korean reggae and red and green flashing lights. The bartender was Korean with dreads and a knit rainbow cap like he just came from the islands.

Apple flavored tobacco and many, many Cass.

A new place we found out about that serves bagged streets for you to walk around with. A designer Capri Sun. So much better then shot gunning beer on the street. Wait, we just came from doing that.

They have such winning cocktails as jack and coke or cranberry and vodka, which I decided to drink after debating between that and a Mai Thaii.

A mixture of fried food dripping in hot sauce. Sooo good.

Finishing up a night, while continuing the reggae theme at a reggae bar and for the first time ever I drank a Budweiser.

"Kon-bae."

Last night my boss, Mr.Shin, insisted on taking me out to dinner. So around nine o'clock he picked me and Kelly, the other American teacher, up. We went to a local Korean restaurant. He was excited by the fact that I eat meat and drink beer because Kelly does not. He ordered us some beer and Kelly a really sweet, peach soju. They bring to the table complimentary starters. A very hot metal plate with two eggs and kimichi with acorn jelly. The acorn jelly was not that tasty at all. He prepares the eggs for us by cracking them over the plate and then he sucks out the yolk left in the shell. The egg starts to sizzle and cook and before we really get to enjoy it ,the first dish comes out. Delicious tofu with spicy kimichi hits the table and already it's time for a second beer. He was surprised I did not want an American like Budweiser, but instead opted for the Korean Cafri. Kelly and I devoured the first plate and then came this egg dish. It was basically a large rolled omelet with ketchup. It was delicious and I probably hadn't had ketchup and eggs, since I was five. It also came with a side of coleslaw that was dressed in a strawberry flavored cream sauce. It was probably my most favorite thing.

At this point I switch to the overly sweet soju because Kelly is hardly drinking. And another plate hits the table. A butterflied, grilled fish with the bones still in. It's served along side a soy sauce and wasbi. After picking at the fish and drinking a few more shots of soju, Mr.Shin decided to order some more food. It was between chicken feet and pork. I didn't care, so ordered the feet.

As the chicken feet came out he said they were boneless and you can eat the whole thing. "Kon-bae!" we cheered and another shot of soju was drank. I picked up a foot with my chopstick and put the whole thing in my mouth. It was rubbery, almost gelatinous. And as I chewed and bit through cartilage, I realized there were pieces I just couldn't bite through. They felt like bone. As I picked them out of my mouth, I realized they were chicken toe nails. I seriously hated this dish. So I picked out the spicy onions and ate them. I even ate another foot just so I didn't seem rude and picked out more nails. 

I was done with it. By this time Mr.Shin was hammered. He drank way more beer then me and his English was getting worse.We got on a conversation about religion and he kept calling the pope, pop. He kept saying how he loves us and wants to hangout more. He admitted he didn't even like chicken feet, as he took his chopsticks and pick up a mound of feet and acted like he was going to eat it.  Ridiculous!

I couldn't finish the soju because it was so sweet, so he finished mine and Kelly's. At one point he dropped his lighter in his beer. We asked him if he was going to get it out and he replied,"No, it's to deep." Moments later he chugged his beer and when he was done, he caught the lighter in his mouth. It was impossible to get him to leave. He just kept ordering more beer. He was wasted and when we finally got him to leave, we refused his ride home. When we walked out the bar, we had to show him where his car was located. We suggested he should take a cab, but he refused and made a joke about it. He was suppose to come over today and fix my heater today, but he is probably so hungover or his wife, my other boss, probably killed him.

My guardian.

So realizing that I can't make it over two weeks without access to my ATM card, my aunt wires me money through Western Union.  Western Union is associated with two major banks in Korea that you can receive the money from. There are a two issues with this however. First, I don't know where one is and I can't find directions to one. Secondly, even if I found one, the hours don't coincide with my life. The banks close at 4:30 and they are not open weekends. There are however, two Western Unions located with in the greater metropolitan area of Seoul.

It doesn't seem that heard to get to. I found the subway stop and sketched the map on how to get there into my notebook. I get on the green line and transfer two the blue. As I stand waiting for he train one finally pulls up and the entire train empties. I am excited for one reason it won't be packed, which at rush hour, this is a strange situation and I'll be able to get a seat for my fifty minute journey. As an elder Korean lady and me are about to enter the train a Korean guy quickly approaches here and then me with the exact same phrase, but mine is delivered in broken English,"Final stop."

This starts my conversation with him. He asks where I am going. When he realizes how far it is he asks why. Then he asked if he knows where I am going. I show him a map and tell him sort of. Our train pulls up and we go inside and of course there are no seats, so we stand. He then says he has a friend that lives in Ansan. He searches he pocket for his phone and calls his friend. He is trying to find out how to get to the building I need, then a Korean man behind him interrupts. He was listening to our conversation and looking at my map. He talks to my new friend about Ansan. Afterwards, he just says to me he will walk with me even though his stop was two prior to mine. In Korea, it is rude to refuse help. My American natural instinct is to assume I am going to be robbed  or raped, but I know I am not. It might sound naive, but I know I am going to be fine. We continue a new conversation about what I am doing in Korea, where I have traveled, etc. He asked if I was Christian, as well. Religion is a big thing in Korea. I in turn ask him where he is from and what he does. He is a grad student for law and from south west Korea. The fifty minutes or so pass rather fast. As we exit the train it has started to mist and even slightly snow. As we approach the stairs, two women struggle with trying to get a baby carriage up thirty steps. He walks right over and picks the empty stroller and the two women and the baby follow him up the stairs.

He then precedes to lead me outside and are walk through Ansan. He asks an elderly Korean women selling silk worm larva and other things on the stairs. He then continues to direct me through the market. I would have loved to take photographs of all the fruit, steaming buns, buckets of pig skulls, fires in cans etc. but I didn't want to waste his time. We found Western Union and it took ten minutes and were back on our way. It occurred to me just before we arrived back at the subway that we never exchanged names. He told me his Korean name first, which I can't recall. to many foreign syllables and sounds for me to recall. His English name is Gald I thought he first said. As he repeated it a few times, he finally said, "Guard, like Guardian or a basketball guard." Granted I probably could have found my way without him. But there was something symbolic in his name and all the kind actions he did for other people during the hour I spent with him. It is a shame that people in America really aren't like this to other strangers and if a stranger did attempt to help you like this, one would have their keys through their fingers the entire time.

My walk home from work.

Everyday for a brief second I forget that I am in Korea. It's usually when I walk out of school and have been working all day. The kids don't even look Asian to me anymore. As horrible as this is about to sound, most Asian people didn't even look that different to me. And being in their homogeneous society with a sea of thin, straight black hair, fair skin people, you probably wouldn't think they are that much different looking either. It's not like in American where you can describe people of different races, hair and eye color, freckles, etc. But even though the limited adjectives in which to describe Koreans, now they all look very different. I don't even see my kids as Asian anymore, if that makes any sense. So when I am there I just feel like I am at work back at home. Well, that is until I walk outside at 5:00 pm  and that's when I realize I am far away from Philadelphia. From the air and the mountains, to the written language and the streets, it's a totally different city scene.

Trucks on every other corner selling everything from fruit to chickens roasting and dumplings steaming. The fruit is vibrantly colored and perfectly ripe. I have never seen strawberries as red. It looks like red dye is added to them.

For further proof that there are no dryers in Korea (and not just in my apartment) people hang gloves from their restaurants to towels from their hair salons outside in thirty degree plus weather.

Streets are lined with huge signs and at night they glow with neon. Most everything is written in Hangul (Korean written language). In neighborhoods such as Itaewon or Hongdea, that are over run with ex-pats you'll see most signage in both English and Hangul. 

There are so many wires hanging above your head that literally the poles lean from the weight.

These barbershop lights are everywhere. They aren't connected to barber shops most seem connected to restaurants or nothing at all.

Notice the church steeple and the cross at top is glowing neon red. If you drive down any of the hills in Seoul at night, you'll see tens of red glowing crosses dotted through out the skyline peeking above and between buildings.

Carts line up on Sunday. Monday they'll be put to use as people start pushing their produce and products to work.

A bike forgotten about and used as a trash receptacle.

Ringworm.

This is for Francesca.