Dear Teacher ^^

I have started email correspondence with some of my students. This is an email I received from one of my past students. She's studying in Daegu, our nearest big city now.

This kind of REAL English practice is soooo good for them: they hardly ever have to just 'produce' English: written or verbal, and it is such valuable practice. I think they must find it incredibly dificult, but the fact that they try is such a huge step.

These students are such a joy: they are full of life and so natural. They are also so naive, but I love them for it. I will really miss these interactions with them, and hope to keep up some of these precious email connections.

Here's her latest email - enjoy!

Jessica *^^*

At last u send e-mail, I waited u e-mail .

Now u spend summer vacation ?? 17, July summer vacation start, I heared it.

I spened my summer vacation but I'm going to work at professor office. I want to enjoy my vacation.

My professor's visually impaired but I worked cleaned, make a cup of coffee, use computer word and go with my professor . I give help to my professor because my professor's blind so always I give left my arm. Everyday's happy because I service myself. It is related my major.

These section exam's bad. ㅠ,ㅠ I don't study everyday and not review . I'm unhappy about exam degree.

Today's so hot. > , <>

Theseday I'm learn Jazz dance . *^^* Because I lose weight. I want a standard body weight. So I will wear a bikini. ㅋㅋ

U going to swimming pool?? Next, We r going to swimming pool together. *^^* I already excite .~~

Do you wacth '이끼' movie ?? It's very interest. > , <>

I hope to get another email from you again.*^^*

"I saw you on the street"

There are many things that Korean people do and say that we find odd and don't understand. Of course. And I have got used to and learned to just accept many of these things: If I hadn't I'd have gone mad by now!
Anyway, I have decided that "I saw you on the street" is one of my pet hates in the category 'odd things Korean people do or say'.

"I saw you on the street" is a phenmenon which I experience most with my students, sometimes with other people. It is directly linked to the fact that we are such celebrities/oddities/highlights in Sangju. Even though we've been here over 6 months now, almost everyone must have seen us at least once, and there are now well over twenty foreigners in town, bumping into us in the street or in the shops or even just seeing us is still a highliht for most.
And my students feel like they need to tell me this. They are darlings, I love them, and everytime someone has the guts to come and speak to me I try my best to look as friendly and approachable as possible. But what can you say when someone says to you "I saw you on the street yesteday/at the weekend/last week..."? "That's nice." "Oh, I didn't see you!" "Oh" "Oh, where?" "Oh, really?". Gosh, I really dislike having to come up with responses to this statement. I realise that I am a bit of a 'tourist attraction' in town, and I really don't mind that too much, so I really wouldn't mind at all if they told their mother, grandmother, friends, sisters, counsins, brothers etc that they saw me on the street (which I'm sure they do! - I can just imagine it!) but PLEASE DON'T TELL ME! I don't know what too say.

This pet-hate was re-awakened the day before yesterday when Jules and I went for coffee at our favourite coffee shop in Sangju. It's called 'Kopi Gage' (=Coffee Shop) and is run by an interestiung couple. They seem to have a lot of interest in western-style jazz, poetry etc and their coffee shop has a lovely atmosphere with lovely old coffee ginders, hessian sacks on the ceiling, paintings, old black & white photos and LP records on the walls. In fact, 'Kopi Gage' can often feel like an escape from the Korean-ness of Sangju (when one needs a break, which is inevitable at times) and I have the impression that the owners are not quite your standard Korean - maybe evven more 'worldly' (not an adjective one can ascribe to most locals).

Anyway, sadly, the owner let me down. As we were leaving, he said someting to his wife/girlfriend and she translated for him "I saw you on the street near the Bukcheon Monument" aaaaahhhh! Here I am in my 'haven' and the man himself puts his foot in it. AAAAHHH! "Oh that's nice"+ smile (of course!) was the best I could come up with before I escaped. Oh my gosh. 'Ayigo!' as the Koreans would say (which is remarkably similar to the Zulu 'Hayibo!' and means the same)

Anyway, Jules seems to not quite understand why I am so frustrated by all this "I saw you on the street'" business but I hink his boys aren't as vocal as my girls so he doesn't get it that much. Please do me a favour and think about how you would respond if people came up to you numerous times in a week and told you "I saw you on the street!". Thank you!

Our very own 'Ajumma'

Ajumma from afar: a 'mild' Ajumma bent over, tending her fields.
I'm still too intimidated to get closer to get some good photos of them...I'm sure my time will come!

One of the most unique things about Korea is it's 'Ajummas'. Ask any foreigner who has spent some time in Korea about their experiences with Ajummas and you are sure to get a volley of amusing and probably annoying stories with the odd gem of kindness mixed in. 'Ajumma' in Korean actually refers to any married women, but amongst foreigners it has become a term specifically referring to older Korean women (usually older than about 55).

They are a unique bunch and are easy to spot: they usually wear very clashy clothes i.e. orange and pink, mustard and lime green, garish florals and stripes, luminous geometric patterns and polka-dots etc. You get my drift. They also almost always have permed hair, thinning badly.
They walk with a bit of a stoop. As soon as a bit of sun appears they usually don their large visors (oversized caps) and often wrap up their faces with various forms of scarves and cloths, and wear gloves to protect tehir hands from the sun.
They are often to be seen bent up behind an old baby pram which is carrying some form of vegetable, cans of water or nothing at all (i.e. being used as a walker).

Ajummas are also known to be beligerent, pushy, and have very little respect for personal space. They are the worst crowd pushers, especially because they generally exhibit a kind of 'herding' behaviour when in groups and public places. They tend to congregate on street corners where they sit or squat on raised platforms of sorts and watch the world go by.

They are by far the WORST starers and have no 'skaam': they are stubborn and have no qualms in continuing staring even if you show discomfort or stare back. They are often seen squatting in public places and smoking: only old Ajummas are allowed to smoke in Korea: it is frowned upon for young women to smoke.

After all this about the Ajummas they seem like a tough bunch of old ladies, which they really are. But if one turns one's mind to the hard life they've had, this is not too surprising.
They've lived through the Korean war, many have probably lost husbands and sons, many of them have been farming most of their lives, attentively bent over their crops for hours on end. They have been unquestioning servants to their husbands: Korean woman do anything and everything required by their husbands, many of whom have drinking problems (the accursed cheap soju). They have prepared and large number of side dishes for almost every meal of their married life and they have born many children.
They have also watched Korea transform from a poor country on a par with many African develpoing countries, to a hugely successful country in the world, somewhere near 12th on economic country rankings worldwide.

All this may well explain the tough nature of the Korean Ajumma! So that was the lead-in to my real story. I feel like we are one step closer to understanding the real Ajumma, as we now have 'our own Ajumma'. Let me explain.

On our way to the shops yesterday evening, we passed a house on the corner. I've noticed this house before: there are often Ajummas in and out, they often play loud, old-fashioned Korean love-songs and there are plenty of pots outside growing all manner of vegetables and decorative garden plants. There is also a little fluffy dog which had puppies earlier in the year, so I have been observing this hosuehold with interest.

Anyway, as we passed by yesterday evening, the Ajumma of the hosue walked out of her front gate and started yelling at us (I don't think Ajummas can speak, they just yell!). All in Korean and at quite a rate: I didn't understand anything: except for the word 'banchan' which I recognised: it means side-dishes (an important word in Korea considering how very important food is in this culture). She was gesticulatong wildly and calling us towards her home and I guessed she wanted to give us some 'banchan'. I was right. She grabbed me by the hand and we went into her home, where she opened the fridge, promptly squatted down on the ground and began hauling out dishes. In a whizz she had a bowl and some chopsticks out and we were squatting down next to her in her kitchen trying her kimchi and other delights!

Our few Korean expressions of 'ooh, delicious' 'thank you' 'I like this' were lost in her constant stream of words (still almost at yelling pace and pitch!) She then decanted some of her treats for us and with that waved us out the door and we were on our way again, with many more 'thanks yous' and 'goodbyes' which I don't think she even heard!

The little exchange didn't last more than 3-4 minutes but it was quite something! Jules felt a bit overwhelmed by the experience - not surprising as we couldn't communicate with one another at all and her pushy, almost demanding, approach made her kind and generous act seem almost intimidating!

But in restrospect I feel honoured and humbled to have been invited into her home. I managed to get her name (Well, I think it's her name) 'Hon-Cha'. (I remembered it because in my mind she was a bit of a 'head honcho!') What a kind, geneours woman to haul two strangers off the street and endow them so generously with her handmade 'banchan'.

I am planning to make some banana bread (in Korean 'banana ppang') and take it over to her when I return her dishes. If only I could learn Korean in 48 hours so I could understand her non-stop chattering! How much more valuable our brief exchange would be then! As if I needed any more motivation to learn Korean: so much language so little time! You know how some people have a 'pudding stomach' and can always fit in pudding - I wish I had a 'language' stomach to always have extra tme and energy to devote to learning Korean.

Well, here's to Hon-Cha: I look forward to many more bewildering and enlightening exchanges with her. From afar she may seem like just another nutty Ajumma but her kindness and generosity warmed my heart!

Ice cream truck...or not...

On Friday morning I was walking to school when I heard the familiar and sweet sound of an ice-cream truck. That tinkling music sound is so pleasant and reminds me so much of my grandparents buying us ice-cream from the truck in Greytown when we were little.

Anyway, so I was looking foward to being able to re-live that experience sometime -in Sangju 'nogal'!

But alas, all those sweet ice-cream thoughts were shattered when the truck came around the corner and was not an ice cream truck, but...well, what's the furthest thing from an ice-cream truck? How about a sewerage truck? Yup, that's it! It was a sewerage truck playing the sweet tinkling tunes which the rest of us associate with ice cream and childhood innocence!
How bizarre!