April has not been the easiest of months for Joe and me. It has crawled along like a snail that has taken Xanax. It has mocked us with its not-quite-warmness. In a lot of ways, it has felt like October all over again, which was, by far, the hardest month of our time in Korea. Except with April, it's been warmer than October, and the excitement of summer on the horizon has helped. Still. It's been a rough month.
Certain things that I thought I was over, like being stared and laughed at by school children on the street, have annoyed and frustrated me in a fresh way. Why are they laughing? What is so funny about me? Arghghgh!!! There is one particular teacher in my office who, every single time she sees me, she laughs. Without fail. I could be exiting the bathroom, and she, entering, and--she laughs. I could be coming into work in the morning, and she laughs when I say good morning. I could be passing her in the hall--yup, laughter! I just don't get it! What's funny? My co-worker, William, says it's because she's embarrassed and doesn't know what to do/say. I can accept that. I can also accept that I might be a tad bit sensitive when it comes to this issue, but I think when you've been laughed at for 8 months straight, you tend to be on the tender side. Plus, the last time I was laughed at this much was when I was in high school, and the cool kids would snicker in their mean cool-kid way. I need to be reminded of high school like I need a hole in the head.
Oh, and also, I almost bit it the other day when I slipped on a puddle of water placed strategically in front of the stairs. I assume this water was put there on purpose to humidify the air and to be generally good for everyone's health, and not to destroy my life, but I was pissssed. A sarcastic, internal diatribe began in my head: oh, of course, it makes perfect sense to dump a bucket of water on marble floors in an ill-lit stairwell; fantastic! Wonderful! Is it good for my health if I break my spine, Korea! In America, I'd sue!!!! (Insert inane and futile fist shaking here in manner of John Cleese in Fawlty Towers).
The last week, though, has gotten better, and lest I spend this whole blog grappling with my frustration and complaining, I want to tell you the things I have really loved this month here in Korea:
1. Cherry blossoms, and all and every flower blossom for that matter. Spring has never been so beautiful. I think Spring is truly Korea's shining hour. Spring transforms the blocky, sterile architecture of Daegu into something, dare I say, magical. Flowers are everywhere--flowers I've never seen before. Everywhere smells of flowers (unless you happen to unfortunately stand over a sewage grate at just the right time). And I don't know how to explain it, but the flowers here are somehow more romantic than the flowers in the states. I don't know how, but it's true. They make me want to drape myself against tree trunks in some sort of Mists of Avalon type gown and pine after Joe.
2. Korean health insurance is the greatest. Went to the dentist yesterday, and had one of the best dental experiences of my life. Dr. Seong was kind, she listened to my concerns, she responded to my gasps of pain. The patient form that I had to fill out even asked questions like: how do you feel when you come to the dentist? Have you ever had an unpleasant dental experience? Explain. What do you want in your dental experience? And then she and I sat down and discussed my anxiety over being there. She listened. She took notes. She empathized. I got a full x-ray in this awesome stand-up, rotating x-ray machine, a check-up, and a cavity filled all for $14. And she's referring me to some dental hospital for all my jaw/joint pain (TMJ) so they can fix me. Side note: when telling these same jaw symptoms to my dentist in the states, she told me to stop chewing gum and soft bread. Thanks, doc.
3. This month has been National Poetry Month, and I challenged myself to write 30 poems in 30 days. I've got two more poems to go. Korea has given me a lot of new things to write about--a lot of inspiration, and my poetry has gone to different places. I've experimented with Korean poetry forms, which I never would have done had I not been here. I'm grateful for that.
4. Joe and I have finally figured out the bus system. I know this isn't cause for praise, since everyone else figured it out months ago, and since it's really quite easy to figure out, but still. Those buses fly down the streets faster than the cabs, so we were a little wary. Plus, we love the subway. But now that we've taken the leap, the buses are fantastic.
5. Last night, while listening to The Tallest Man on Earth (a singer/songwriter who you should really check out if you don't know him) and riding the bus home from the dentist, I looked up and saw Woobang Tower. It was lit brilliantly with a warm, yellowish light. I realized it's Daegu's beacon, the thing you see in the horizon as definitively, characteristically Daegu. It's like Sears Tower for Chicago or the arch for St. Louis. I felt a sweet moment of connection with Daegu, and that little tinge of sorrow that I've been feeling lately at the thought of leaving.
6. Conversation. I've had some pretty great conversations with people lately about lots of different things. And while that may seem commonplace, I have a tendency to isolate myself here and to not reach out to people as much as I should.
I had a long conversation with William about racism yesterday. I'm about to teach a story from Ray Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles called "Way in the Middle of the Air." It's set in the south, and is about how African-American servants all decide to leave their white employers and go to Mars. It was first published in 1950. It is the one story that critics have found outdated and unimportant in today's world. It has been removed from subsequent printings of the book for being outdated, and problematic to teach. It uses the "N" word a few times. I have a problem with critics saying this story is no longer relevant. Racism is alive and well, as far as I can tell, and people still use that word to make other people feel like nothing. So, I've been doing a lot of research on racism, which has plunged me into "the depths of despair" as Anne of Green Gables would say. I want the students to understand the relevance of this story, and to acknowledge the evidence of racism in the world. I feel like I'm on some sort of mission to show them examples of recent or current racism from countries around the world, including their own.
Fun fact: up until January, 2011, the Korean military did not allow biracial men to enlist. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
The point is that racism has been on my mind, and I finally crawled out of my head and talked to William about it for a good long time. It was great to hear his opinion of and experiences with racism in Korea and the US. It was great to just talk about it and try to understand how it all works, especially here in Asia, where racism and prejudice seems to run freer and more openly than I've seen before.
7. Joe and I bought a grill! Last night he made steak (that I chewed awkwardly with my non-cavity filled side), and he smelled like summer. I was transported back to our back porch in Chicago, when, once warm weather hit, Joe was practically glued to the grill. I'm excited for summer and for grilling on our roof as much as we possibly can.
8. Next week is Buddha's birthday, and everywhere you go (since last week), lanterns have been strung up all over the place. They are in the trees in front of the post office, along the boulevards, near the bus stops. The other night we saw a cluster of illuminated lanterns nestled in some bushes in front of the police station. As we draw nearer to Buddha's birthday (May 10), I'm sure more lanterns will go up and the festivities will begin. We will be in Seoul for the occasion--there is something called the Lotus Lantern Festival being held that we are planning on going to. There will be processions of monks, ginormous lanterns lit from within, lantern-making, etc. We are really excited.
9. Tomatoes are finally in season here. As it should be, you can only get produce here that is in season. We have been bereft of tomatoes for many months now, making us drool for salsa and pasta sauce, but now the time is upon us! Mounds of them are everywhere in the markets now.
10. And finally, the friends we have made here fill my heart with joy. Truly. We had a writer's group meeting the other night (which we call The Whiskey and Wine Creative Writing Club....though we've been booze-free for a while now because of lent and whatnot), and it was great. There are poets and prose writers alike among us, and every meeting is like a surprise--seeing what people bring to share, what styles/forms/genres they've decided to try their hands at. Joe has been writing and submitting to the group as well, which has made me more happy than he or anyone could know. There's something so fulfilling, so warming, in having my husband sitting next to me and talking about literature. It's hot. :) I am super thankful for this group of creative people--for their company, their critique, and their general air of tomknapery.
And so there you have it. Despite snickering Koreans and near-fatal tumbles onto wet marble, there have been plenty of good things in this last month. In a day, I will be able to turn the calendar to May, to put April behind me, knowing that it was a rough slog, but studded with a slew of good stuff too.
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