The Dark Side of the Wall
Posted by Afrojew2 | | Posted On Monday, November 16, 2009 at 4:27 AM
Preface: I don't listen to Pink Floyd much, this title just happens to work well with the content. Still, I hope you appreciate my way with words.
Ok, time to play major catch up. For some reason I haven’t posted in a while because I thought I hadn’t done enough to warrant any updates. I was very wrong. Maybe that’s because I was cowering in the newcomer’s depression which had me by the throat after teaching started. The best way to describe it, as cliché as it sounds, is a wall. It’s not a wall that you hit, it’s a wall that exists from the moment you arrive, a wall you can always see and always feel. And no, you can’t climb it. Impossible. It’s too high, and it casts such a shadow in which you forever walk until eventually you begin to feel there is no other side. All you can do is charge head first and hope your mind is stronger than the brick before you. Now, I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think I have broken through that wall. And not only can I see life on the other side, but I can also look back through the hole that I left and see what was hidden, tucked away in that shadow behind me. So here’s what’s recently come into the light:
Forgive the lack of pictures. Only words for this entry. I could make a whole metaphorical and profound statement about pictures and shadows and light but fuck it, just read.
As you know, I was utterly exhausted from teaching, preventing me from hiking or getting much exercise of any kind (unless you consider straining my eye muscles to watch the West Wing an aerobic sport). To remedy this I bought a basketball and started to play most days after school on the sand court at a park near my place. One day I was joined by a sixty-or-so year old Korean man who was looking to get schooled by this hardcore baller. I tore his ass up. Not really. We just shot around for a while in the middle of this deserted park, as far away from the throngs of people as you can get in a Korean city, cheering each other on as best we could in our separate languages.
A different park, on a different day. Just passing through on my way to the Lotte Mart (Korea’s Wal-Mart without the employee mistreatment). Tune in my head, coming from a great night out with Jon in Anyang, looking to pick up some milk for breakfast the next day. 9pm, midnight black, Korea’s famous neon signs only a dim blur down the street. Three of my 6th grade kids pop out from the playground wielding chocolate sticks. Tomorrow was Pepero Day. November 11th. 11/11. The Pepero company decided to take advantage of this day by selling boxes of cheap and delicious chocolate sticks (because sticks look like 1’s) on that day, and only that day. Hence, Pepero Day. My kids offered me one of the boxes they had bought for the celebration. Of course, the day before I had finally become determined to stop eating junk food and start cooking for myself. A test, if you will, from the Korean gods. Whether I passed or failed is beside the point. My kids gave me chocolate. In a park. At 9pm, in pitch blackness.
There are no Korean Jews. None that I or any of my Jewish friends here have heard of. Yes, I’ve already met five other Jewish English teachers. I guess the wandering Jew phenomenon is real. That or we’re all in severe debt. But I digress. The point is there are no Korean Jews that I know of. But all Koreans read the Talmud. Everyone owns a copy. Mind-boggling.
In case you didn’t notice, I don’t do transition material.
Ever heard of Koreans playing Portuguese music? Well, I’ve seen it. I went to a concert with Jon and my new friend Sue put on by the Portuguese Studies department at Hanguk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul. Needless to say I had low expectations going in, and the first half of the show lived down to my billing. The second half, however, was fantastic. One student sang one of the most incredible, passionate, and soulful songs I have ever heard. I don’t really know Portuguese music, but if it’s anything close to what I heard from him, I love it.
Random musings complete. Stay tuned, there will be a quick turnaround on my next entry. As I said, turns out I’ve done quite a bit in the last few weeks.
Ok, time to play major catch up. For some reason I haven’t posted in a while because I thought I hadn’t done enough to warrant any updates. I was very wrong. Maybe that’s because I was cowering in the newcomer’s depression which had me by the throat after teaching started. The best way to describe it, as cliché as it sounds, is a wall. It’s not a wall that you hit, it’s a wall that exists from the moment you arrive, a wall you can always see and always feel. And no, you can’t climb it. Impossible. It’s too high, and it casts such a shadow in which you forever walk until eventually you begin to feel there is no other side. All you can do is charge head first and hope your mind is stronger than the brick before you. Now, I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think I have broken through that wall. And not only can I see life on the other side, but I can also look back through the hole that I left and see what was hidden, tucked away in that shadow behind me. So here’s what’s recently come into the light:
Forgive the lack of pictures. Only words for this entry. I could make a whole metaphorical and profound statement about pictures and shadows and light but fuck it, just read.
As you know, I was utterly exhausted from teaching, preventing me from hiking or getting much exercise of any kind (unless you consider straining my eye muscles to watch the West Wing an aerobic sport). To remedy this I bought a basketball and started to play most days after school on the sand court at a park near my place. One day I was joined by a sixty-or-so year old Korean man who was looking to get schooled by this hardcore baller. I tore his ass up. Not really. We just shot around for a while in the middle of this deserted park, as far away from the throngs of people as you can get in a Korean city, cheering each other on as best we could in our separate languages.
A different park, on a different day. Just passing through on my way to the Lotte Mart (Korea’s Wal-Mart without the employee mistreatment). Tune in my head, coming from a great night out with Jon in Anyang, looking to pick up some milk for breakfast the next day. 9pm, midnight black, Korea’s famous neon signs only a dim blur down the street. Three of my 6th grade kids pop out from the playground wielding chocolate sticks. Tomorrow was Pepero Day. November 11th. 11/11. The Pepero company decided to take advantage of this day by selling boxes of cheap and delicious chocolate sticks (because sticks look like 1’s) on that day, and only that day. Hence, Pepero Day. My kids offered me one of the boxes they had bought for the celebration. Of course, the day before I had finally become determined to stop eating junk food and start cooking for myself. A test, if you will, from the Korean gods. Whether I passed or failed is beside the point. My kids gave me chocolate. In a park. At 9pm, in pitch blackness.
There are no Korean Jews. None that I or any of my Jewish friends here have heard of. Yes, I’ve already met five other Jewish English teachers. I guess the wandering Jew phenomenon is real. That or we’re all in severe debt. But I digress. The point is there are no Korean Jews that I know of. But all Koreans read the Talmud. Everyone owns a copy. Mind-boggling.
In case you didn’t notice, I don’t do transition material.
Ever heard of Koreans playing Portuguese music? Well, I’ve seen it. I went to a concert with Jon and my new friend Sue put on by the Portuguese Studies department at Hanguk University of Foreign Studies in Seoul. Needless to say I had low expectations going in, and the first half of the show lived down to my billing. The second half, however, was fantastic. One student sang one of the most incredible, passionate, and soulful songs I have ever heard. I don’t really know Portuguese music, but if it’s anything close to what I heard from him, I love it.
Random musings complete. Stay tuned, there will be a quick turnaround on my next entry. As I said, turns out I’ve done quite a bit in the last few weeks.
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