a quickie... or not...

They've told us that there are four stages of cultural adjustment when you're living in a foreign country. The first stage is the "honeymoon" stage. Everything is new and shiny and so very interesting! The second stage is "culture shock" - when things just get frustrating, there's a feeling of isolation, homesickness and loads of stress at the little things. The third stage is "gradual adjustment, humour and perspective". That's when the molehills that you've made into mountains return to their natural molehill state. Things get easier and things start to actually make sense. You start understanding the culture. The fourth (and final) stage is "adaptation and biculturalism". It's when the foreign country becomes home. You're able to function fluently in the culture (not necessarily the language, though!).

Those of us who came over through the EPIK program (employed by the government, teaching in middle schools mostly) have started speaking in a bit of a code... "Oh, I'm in stage 2 today!" or "I'm going back and forth between stages 2 and 3 this week...". We're quite lucky that we've got a strong network of native English speakers across Korea who are experiencing the same challenges and the same issues. It really keeps things in perspective and makes it all easier.

I'm somewhere in between stages 1, 2 and 3. I haven't spent much time in stage 2, but I've definitely had my moments! The first time I went grocery shopping was wholly overwhelming. After about 20 minutes of wandering around aimlessly and confused, recognizing (really) only some junk foods (like pringles) and ramen (which I can't eat) I ended up buying an apple and leaving. Fruit is really expensive here, by the way. So much for "an apple a day"! I didn't return for 2 days, but was much better prepared for my next trip - armed with korean recipes and an ingredients list. It took forty-five minutes (most of the items weren't labelled in english, surprise!) but I got everything that I needed to prepare both "ddeok bok ee" and kimch'i fried rice. Welcome to stage 3! I can now navigate the grocery store without fear and (for the most part) understanding what I'm seeing, what it's used for, and what I need or don't need to buy for different dishes. My first cooking experience:

I've been really lucky, too, though. My co-teacher (the teacher who is assigned to assist me with getting set up here in Korea) has been an absolute angel, helping me with all the major stuff (like bank accounts, alien card, cell phone, etc.) I also met two native English teachers here in my little Hogye-dong, within my first week or two of being here. (I have friends - wooo-hooo!). One of them is as new to this whole "Korea" thing as I am - the other one is new to Ulsan but has been teaching in Korea for 6 years or so. The first week or two he was like a cultural reference dictionary for me... still is! It helps A LOT to understand why things are the way they are. (if there is even a reason!) Context is everything.

Learning the language though, I think that's going to be the key to this whole thing. There are people who have lived here for 5 or 10 years that cannot string together more than a rudementary sentence in Korean. It's possible. I can understand how. Learn enough to get what you need done, done. I hold no illusions of any degree of fluency, but i am hoping at the end of this year I will be able to have a simple conversation. It can be wholly overwhelming to sit in the middle of a conversation and have no idea what's being discussed. The teacher who's desk is beside mine, the two of us are "teaching" each other. It's fantastic, instead of giving up if we can't explain ourselves, we (both) use the naver.co.kr dictionary or babelfish or both and find ways to actually talk about _things_. It's not at all fair to expect everyone to speak in English to me all the time. The other day, I was knitting a sock at school (yes, Urs, YOUR sock!!) and teachers kept coming up to me, asking what I was making... yangmal! Sock. Just popped out of my mouth. It really is about the small victories.

One more thing. The foreigners' bars. There's one here, Benchwarmers, that is really fun. But when Liz and I went a couple of weeks ago, it was so weird. We walked in, grabbed a table and a couple of beers. The Tragically Hip was on the stereo, all conversation was in English, the bartender was from Cape Breton. It felt like Canada (but with lousy beer). Nothing - absolutely nothing - would indicate that we were in Korea. So strange. I hesitate to go too often. I actually prefer Korean haunts. Being the only westerner(s), not a big deal. I'd rather remember that I'm here in Korea, yell out "yogi-yo" if I want service, smile, bow, and use my Korean.
(Below: a shot of Liz eating REAL nachos at OBriens - an expat pub in Busan - see the Canadian flag in the background?)

As I write this, I'm debating whether to go downtown tonight ('bout 20 mins by bus), meet up with a whole group of westerners who I don't know very well (or at all) to do the "foreigners' bar" thing, or whether to stay here in Hogye-dong and chill at the local haunt. I think though, after reading what I've written, it's pretty clear that I'd rather "yogi-yo" than have western-style table service.