You know you are an ESL teacher in Korea when:

10) Owning merely one hand-held electronic device qualifies you as a luddite.

9) Just about anything edible is rumored to be an excellent source of “stamina”.

8) Nobody's pet dog would stand a chance against your tabby cat back home.

7) You catch your students humming the cheesy (English) chorus of the most recent K-pop hit.

6) The trajectory of a sober pedestrian is almost as predictable as that of a drunk one.

5) You stop taking your “double-eyelids” for granted. (See: most wanted surgical procedure)

4) Every time you call in sick, your boss sends a reconnaissance agent to your appartment.

3) You walk into a “barber shop”, "cafe", or "karaoke parlor", only to discover they aren't in the hair-trimming/coffee/singing business.

2) You are no longer puzzled by trendy t-shirts featuring cryptic English slogans, such as: “Down with the King?” and “Choose Juicy”.

1) One decade after the release of Star Craft, elementary kids who don't otherwise understand a lick of English can still be heard at recess, shouting in spot-on American accents: “Your base is under attack!” (Var: “Your face is under attack!”)

Making changes

It's about time I turned over a new leaf. I've recovered from the second attack of pneumonia and the interminable cough. I've started jogging around the neighborhood, as well as swimming two evenings a week at a local university—Samyuk, where cheap cafeteria dinners are an added bonus. I returned to CulCom last Saturday for Korean language lessons, for the first time in three months; Wonsuk, my new teacher, is quite fluent in English, and I'm planning to meet him during the week for extra practice. I might even take up Taekwondo, although that will probably have to wait until I get back from my trip to Australia next month. (I can't wait to see you Carla, and Bonita!) I also need to start reading before bed again; no more zoning out to epilepsy-inducing youtube videos (although it has been a source of considerable philosophical inspiration lately). Finally, as fate would have it, I've picked up an old hobby: magic. I was assigned to make the lesson for Magic Day for Hwarang elementary school's summer camp, two weeks from now. I should have just enough time to perfect a few simple tricks.

And another thing. I have to start writing, and not just more of the same. I'll continue to document snippets of my adventures in Seoul, but its about time I fulfilled the promise of this blog's title. Not that I want to burden my (few) readers with every little neurotic dialogue that crowds my mind— however, I do have a lot to say (some of which may somehow be of value to someone, somewhere) and I've been holding it in for too long.

There have been two things holding me back: one being my constant insecurity about puting my thoughts into words; ideas and feelings so often loose their luster on the page, and I despair when I fail to do them justice. The second thing holding me back is my insidious elitism—in this case, an unwillingness to identify myself with the proliferation of verbal diarrhea that is the blogosphere. To me, the web often seems to magnify the worst in humanity, revealing us for the small-minded, attention-seeking, fearful, and vain creatures that we are. What do we do with this miracle of high-speed communications technology and ever-expanding resource of information for which the word 'encyclopedic' no longer does justice? We often forget our dreams, and adopt an indolent and harmful philosophy of instant gratification; we corrupt the language and drown out meaningful conversation; we pervert the compelling ideal of an “online community” into a place where we await the next ego hit, perpetuate harmful cravings, reinforce a culture of consumption....

But this is, of course, only half the picture. There is still plenty of room for honest, authentic voices, seeking freedom from marginalization or alienation. The internet enables human miracles on a daily basis, and has made possible the kind of collaborative opportunities that no one previously envisioned. I believe the future is truly open-ended. We always have a choice, to be catalysts of the values we hope the rest of the world will one day adopt, online and off. Speaking for myself, any list of these values would include democratic conversation, freedom of expression, intellectual honesty, tolerance and understanding, and especially, faith in the power of the human imagination. Although I'm hardly the only one who values these ideas—they matter to many others (some of whom are my friends and family) in a way that goes beyond mere words. I view the internet as a kind of testing ground for the integration of these ideas into a quickly globalizing, technologically evolving world.