Earning Grace

For the third installment of POTSC's Never Beyond poster series, we have

Darth Vader.

I asked a friend of mine what he thought of the famous villain.  "He sort of redeemed himself at the end."
He did give his life for Luke.  That's a pretty big deal and, I think for many fans, it makes Darth Vader even more of an epic character (if not the best villain ever).

It's true, when someone who's a pretty bad person sacrifices and does an act of kindness, we look on them much more favorably.  We think maybe they'll do more good things in the future.  Maybe their hearts are melting.  Maybe they'll come around.

But what if they don't.  In fact, what if they never did that first act of kindness.  What if they stay in their evil actions and harmful decisions.  What if they don't earn that second chance.

Do they still deserve it?

More importantly, would you still give it to them?

"For all of us have become like one who is unclean,
And all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment;
And all of us wither like a leaf,
And our iniquities, like the wind, take us away." 

Isaiah 64:4 tells us that none of our good deeds earn us a thing.  Yet God still gives us second chances?  He still gives grace?  Hold up, He gives it abundantly?  Yes, friend.  Yes, He does.

Let us continue to press on to become more like the Forgiver.  He knows we don't deserve anything but condemnation even if we've given up our lives for another.  Without pure, unadulterated, righteousness, there is no  holiness.  Praise to the Lord for offering His Son as the sacrifice we need!  His perfection covers our ugliness and our evil.

Darth Vader redeemed himself in almost everyone's opinion, right?  With God, none of us can earn our redemption, but He steps in and gives it to us freely.

What a gift, this grace.

---------------------------------------------

Check out People of the Second Chance.
Join the movement to overthrow judgment and liberate love.

Earning Grace

For the third installment of POTSC's Never Beyond poster series, we have

Darth Vader.

I asked a friend of mine what he thought of the famous villain.  "He sort of redeemed himself at the end."
He did give his life for Luke.  That's a pretty big deal and, I think for many fans, it makes Darth Vader even more of an epic character (if not the best villain ever).

It's true, when someone who's a pretty bad person sacrifices and does an act of kindness, we look on them much more favorably.  We think maybe they'll do more good things in the future.  Maybe their hearts are melting.  Maybe they'll come around.

But what if they don't.  In fact, what if they never did that first act of kindness.  What if they stay in their evil actions and harmful decisions.  What if they don't earn that second chance.

Do they still deserve it?

More importantly, would you still give it to them?

"For all of us have become like one who is unclean,
And all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment;
And all of us wither like a leaf,
And our iniquities, like the wind, take us away." 

Isaiah 64:4 tells us that none of our good deeds earn us a thing.  Yet God still gives us second chances?  He still gives grace?  Hold up, He gives it abundantly?  Yes, friend.  Yes, He does.

Let us continue to press on to become more like the Forgiver.  He knows we don't deserve anything but condemnation even if we've given up our lives for another.  Without pure, unadulterated, righteousness, there is no  holiness.  Praise to the Lord for offering His Son as the sacrifice we need!  His perfection covers our ugliness and our evil.

Darth Vader redeemed himself in almost everyone's opinion, right?  With God, none of us can earn our redemption, but He steps in and gives it to us freely.

What a gift, this grace.

---------------------------------------------

Check out People of the Second Chance.
Join the movement to overthrow judgment and liberate love.

...The kind in the Bible that turns you bad.

I have trouble asking for help.  It's my nasty pride, and it gets me into a lot of ugly situations.  I remembered this as Kevin, one of my superiors, told me, "Lindsay, when you are ready to work on X and Y, ask me for help."  He actually said, "Ask me for help."  Boy, did I bristle at that.  I'm independent, you know, I'm an adult, I'm resourceful, and I can figure things out.  The words in my head were laced with spite.  It's disgusting.

I've gotten better at humbling myself and also submitting myself to others, and I was caught off guard by how quickly I went into defense mode when Kevin talked to me.  On further inspection, I noticed that the phrasing he used is a little abnormal for regular American English speech.  I'm sure I've heard it before, but it's a rarity to be told to ask for help.  Maybe it was the way he inescapably pointed to how I needed help.  It wasn't a "let me know if you need help," it was a "you don't know how to do this, kid, and you need me to show you."

I haven't done much study on this, but I wonder if Americans cover for each others' pride in this way a bit more.  We go around some of these direct statements.  We say "Let me know if..." and "No pressure, but..."  do we not?  Then again, perhaps this is just a more mature way of speaking.  Factor in the culture and language barrier between Kevin and I (he is Korean) and the fact that he is a man I don't have a good relationship with yet, and you have an explanation that tries to bury my sinfulness in logic.

I hope that, as God continues to redeem me, he will open my eyes to how I try to fool myself.

...The kind in the Bible that turns you bad.

I have trouble asking for help.  It's my nasty pride, and it gets me into a lot of ugly situations.  I remembered this as Kevin, one of my superiors, told me, "Lindsay, when you are ready to work on X and Y, ask me for help."  He actually said, "Ask me for help."  Boy, did I bristle at that.  I'm independent, you know, I'm an adult, I'm resourceful, and I can figure things out.  The words in my head were laced with spite.  It's disgusting.

I've gotten better at humbling myself and also submitting myself to others, and I was caught off guard by how quickly I went into defense mode when Kevin talked to me.  On further inspection, I noticed that the phrasing he used is a little abnormal for regular American English speech.  I'm sure I've heard it before, but it's a rarity to be told to ask for help.  Maybe it was the way he inescapably pointed to how I needed help.  It wasn't a "let me know if you need help," it was a "you don't know how to do this, kid, and you need me to show you."

I haven't done much study on this, but I wonder if Americans cover for each others' pride in this way a bit more.  We go around some of these direct statements.  We say "Let me know if..." and "No pressure, but..."  do we not?  Then again, perhaps this is just a more mature way of speaking.  Factor in the culture and language barrier between Kevin and I (he is Korean) and the fact that he is a man I don't have a good relationship with yet, and you have an explanation that tries to bury my sinfulness in logic.

I hope that, as God continues to redeem me, he will open my eyes to how I try to fool myself.

Detoxication by Mass

In my opinion,

It's a dangerous stress that pushes you to listen to Gregorian chants for your chill music.

I'm right in the middle of a jam packed two weeks of preparing new things for school.  I still find time to read some blogs and check in a little on facebook, I got to hang out with a friend from home yesterday, and I'm planning on hanging with a Korean friend tomorrow evening.  I'm glad I have made commitments to hang with these girls, because I know I'm going to follow through which means I'm going to take time away from work whether I should or not.

I've been bringing work home with me a lot this week,and I look forward to when that will be over.  I am so thankful that I do know when it will be over.  Next Thursday.  When my 6 new syllabi are created, edited, printed, and handed out.  Ah, and I'm going to be picking up a brand-new-to-the-English-language class of 5-year-olds next week.  I'm intimidated.  But, as one of my bosses said, it's not too important to care about the classwork.  Instead, care about the kids.


That was super awesome to hear.  I can do that.  And there is grace for the rest.  And I will learn.  And I will be okay.  Probably not right away, but that's okay, too.

In the meantime... I turn to William Byrd's Mass for Four Voices: Credo for the ultimate detoxing.

Detoxication by Mass

In my opinion,

It's a dangerous stress that pushes you to listen to Gregorian chants for your chill music.

I'm right in the middle of a jam packed two weeks of preparing new things for school.  I still find time to read some blogs and check in a little on facebook, I got to hang out with a friend from home yesterday, and I'm planning on hanging with a Korean friend tomorrow evening.  I'm glad I have made commitments to hang with these girls, because I know I'm going to follow through which means I'm going to take time away from work whether I should or not.

I've been bringing work home with me a lot this week,and I look forward to when that will be over.  I am so thankful that I do know when it will be over.  Next Thursday.  When my 6 new syllabi are created, edited, printed, and handed out.  Ah, and I'm going to be picking up a brand-new-to-the-English-language class of 5-year-olds next week.  I'm intimidated.  But, as one of my bosses said, it's not too important to care about the classwork.  Instead, care about the kids.


That was super awesome to hear.  I can do that.  And there is grace for the rest.  And I will learn.  And I will be okay.  Probably not right away, but that's okay, too.

In the meantime... I turn to William Byrd's Mass for Four Voices: Credo for the ultimate detoxing.

The risk of vulnerability - A challenge from Mike Tyson

Casey Anthony.  Justice.  Grace.  Forgiveness.  Or, lack thereof.  Do you know someone beyond grace?

These word have been written many times during the launch week of People of the Second Chance's new "Never Beyond" poster series.

This week our image is Mike Tyson.

As I join alongside POTSC and their poster project, one of the challenges will be familiarizing myself with the people being analyzed and the stories being told.  My family never watched much of the news, and I didn't mind being away from the horror and the destruction that seemed to dominate that scene anyway.  Just so you know, I am no expert on these people and their shocking stories.

As I read this summary of Mike Tyson's most memorable actions, though, I wasn't struck by the awful things he's done.  (Haven't I done plenty of sinful things myself?)  I am no stranger to judgment toward others, but judgment and I are not super close friends.  What caught me off guard was this:

He’s been candid about his addictions and financial mistakes...

Mike Tyson has opened himself to grace.  And also to the possibility of receiving no grace.

Just because you make yourself vulnerable does not mean that vulnerability will be respected and protected, and all of us have personal stories to prove it.  So why would this man who has already garnered a fair share of judgment and hatred open himself up to potentially more scrutiny and condemnation?

Could it be the mark of a sincere step in a better direction?  I think so.

Tonight I was challenged by the actions of a convicted rapist to open myself to grace.  I have been forgiven.  Jesus has taken my shame, and I need not bear it any more.  He already has the victory, and He has blessed me with experiences that testify to that truth already!  The best way for me to make Him and His grace famous is to tell the stories of what He's done, no?  But how can I tell of His mercy and grace if I don't tell what I've been rescued from?

I am afraid.  I am afraid that telling my story will open myself to more shame.  But, I want the glory of Jesus to win out in my life.  I want it to show.
I am going to tell my story one day.  I need not fear the condemnation of others, because they are not the ones who condemn.

If the One who condemns has already set you free, you are free indeed.

May we live like it!

Parting thoughts:
What would it look like if we were candid with our addictions, our struggles, our sins?
As Dr. Andrew Randle has said, "We all struggle.  Let's struggle together."

How should you and I treat those who boldly claim their forgiveness in Christ and open themselves up to the chance for grace?

---------------------------------------------


Want to read more and join the discussion? Check out People of the Second Chance.

The risk of vulnerability - A challenge from Mike Tyson

Casey Anthony.  Justice.  Grace.  Forgiveness.  Or, lack thereof.  Do you know someone beyond grace?

These word have been written many times during the launch week of People of the Second Chance's new "Never Beyond" poster series.

This week our image is Mike Tyson.

As I join alongside POTSC and their poster project, one of the challenges will be familiarizing myself with the people being analyzed and the stories being told.  My family never watched much of the news, and I didn't mind being away from the horror and the destruction that seemed to dominate that scene anyway.  Just so you know, I am no expert on these people and their shocking stories.

As I read this summary of Mike Tyson's most memorable actions, though, I wasn't struck by the awful things he's done.  (Haven't I done plenty of sinful things myself?)  I am no stranger to judgment toward others, but judgment and I are not super close friends.  What caught me off guard was this:

He’s been candid about his addictions and financial mistakes...

Mike Tyson has opened himself to grace.  And also to the possibility of receiving no grace.

Just because you make yourself vulnerable does not mean that vulnerability will be respected and protected, and all of us have personal stories to prove it.  So why would this man who has already garnered a fair share of judgment and hatred open himself up to potentially more scrutiny and condemnation?

Could it be the mark of a sincere step in a better direction?  I think so.

Tonight I was challenged by the actions of a convicted rapist to open myself to grace.  I have been forgiven.  Jesus has taken my shame, and I need not bear it any more.  He already has the victory, and He has blessed me with experiences that testify to that truth already!  The best way for me to make Him and His grace famous is to tell the stories of what He's done, no?  But how can I tell of His mercy and grace if I don't tell what I've been rescued from?

I am afraid.  I am afraid that telling my story will open myself to more shame.  But, I want the glory of Jesus to win out in my life.  I want it to show.
I am going to tell my story one day.  I need not fear the condemnation of others, because they are not the ones who condemn.

If the One who condemns has already set you free, you are free indeed.

May we live like it!

Parting thoughts:
What would it look like if we were candid with our addictions, our struggles, our sins?
As Dr. Andrew Randle has said, "We all struggle.  Let's struggle together."

How should you and I treat those who boldly claim their forgiveness in Christ and open themselves up to the chance for grace?

---------------------------------------------


Want to read more and join the discussion? Check out People of the Second Chance.

The subway

I don't remember if I blogged about it, but, guys, when I was trying to get a job in Atlanta, one of the things I was most excited about was getting to use public transit to get to work!  I'm serious, I was way pumped, and I was already making a list of books I could read during the 45 minute ride.  Well guess what.  I live in a city with a subway system!  Holla!

I just know this is a poster for a music festival I'm missing!  I gotta learn Korean quickly!

These last two pictures, I'm so sorry they're so small, but I love them.  The only camera I have right now is on my phone, and I haven't found a good way to transport the images to my computer.  Even still, check this out!!

You see that?  Korean Harry Potter posters!  In the subway!  Awesome!!

The subway

I don't remember if I blogged about it, but, guys, when I was trying to get a job in Atlanta, one of the things I was most excited about was getting to use public transit to get to work!  I'm serious, I was way pumped, and I was already making a list of books I could read during the 45 minute ride.  Well guess what.  I live in a city with a subway system!  Holla!

I just know this is a poster for a music festival I'm missing!  I gotta learn Korean quickly!

These last two pictures, I'm so sorry they're so small, but I love them.  The only camera I have right now is on my phone, and I haven't found a good way to transport the images to my computer.  Even still, check this out!!

You see that?  Korean Harry Potter posters!  In the subway!  Awesome!!

Korean Culture: Determining Your Age

Considering that tomorrow is my birthday, it seems very appropriate that I do a short essay on the Korean way of telling one's age.

My birth date is August 17, 1988.

In America...
Today I am 22, and tomorrow I will be 23.

In Korea...
Today I am 24, and tomorrow I will still be 24.

Here's how they do it.

When you are born in Korea, you are automatically one year old.  They count the time in the womb as one year (yes, even though the gestation period is only 9 months).  Then, you don't officially change your age until the changing of the new lunar year.  In 2012, the new lunar begins on February 3rd.  It is on this day that everyone levels up and changes their age.

I'll use myself as an example here.

When I was born on August 17, 1988, I was already one year old (Korean style).  Then, on the turn of the new year in 1989 (which was February 6th), I gained another year.  In essence, I was two years old in Korean age before I'd reached 6 months of American age!

To further illustrate, here's a little video to help with the visual learning.
(See?  I'm learning how to be a better teacher already!)

Korea 5_Everyone’s age advances at New Year. from 43 Films on Vimeo.

Korean Culture: Determining Your Age

Considering that tomorrow is my birthday, it seems very appropriate that I do a short essay on the Korean way of telling one's age.

My birth date is August 17, 1988.

In America...
Today I am 22, and tomorrow I will be 23.

In Korea...
Today I am 24, and tomorrow I will still be 24.

Here's how they do it.

When you are born in Korea, you are automatically one year old.  They count the time in the womb as one year (yes, even though the gestation period is only 9 months).  Then, you don't officially change your age until the changing of the new lunar year.  In 2012, the new lunar begins on February 3rd.  It is on this day that everyone levels up and changes their age.

I'll use myself as an example here.

When I was born on August 17, 1988, I was already one year old (Korean style).  Then, on the turn of the new year in 1989 (which was February 6th), I gained another year.  In essence, I was two years old in Korean age before I'd reached 6 months of American age!

To further illustrate, here's a little video to help with the visual learning.
(See?  I'm learning how to be a better teacher already!)

Korea 5_Everyone’s age advances at New Year. from 43 Films on Vimeo.

The children

I don't know why I didn't think of this before.  I must have been blinded to the fact that I'm going to be a teacher here.  For preschool.  For preschool children.

What to you think of when you think of Asian children and education ?  A match made in heaven?  Let me set something straight.  The pressure that makes the kids study and do well in school comes from their parents.  In fact, that pressure is so severe, students committing suicide isn't as rare as you'd think.  Keeping away from that pressure, though (like in the relaxed English school where I teach), these kids just want to be kids.  It's true: Asian kids are just kids.  This is evidenced by their loud yells, their desire to do anything but sit quietly, and their disdain for anything that isn't fun.  Like regular kids, they want to run the classroom.

I need to clarify.  There are many children who are well behaved and who are diligent, but the extremely crazy ones greatly eclipse them.  I felt a magnificent sense of accomplishment when I captured an entire class' attention with Quest for Camelot one day.  They were intrigued by the setting of the story and by the story itself.  (They also said the characters were ugly.)  Boy, were they focused!  And quiet!  And interested!  Log that one away in awesome Korean occurrences!

Outside of the classroom, they're completely enjoyable.  Inside the classroom, their chaos grates against my mission of order.  I'll have some  a lot of adjusting to do, but I can't wait till I'm confident and comfortable in my role as their teacher.  I look forward to getting to have fun with them, to building relationships with them, and to getting them to learn something.  I remember during my internship with the Dayton City School's ESL program when I was addicted to that light in the kids' eyes when they finally got something and when they enjoyed learning.  My favorite phrase was, "Will you read it to me?!"  I love that.

Here's to learning.  And here's to teachers everywhere.

(And, First Grade Teacher whose name I can't remember, I'm so sorry for being a brat!)

The children

I don't know why I didn't think of this before.  I must have been blinded to the fact that I'm going to be a teacher here.  For preschool.  For preschool children.

What to you think of when you think of Asian children and education ?  A match made in heaven?  Let me set something straight.  The pressure that makes the kids study and do well in school comes from their parents.  In fact, that pressure is so severe, students committing suicide isn't as rare as you'd think.  Keeping away from that pressure, though (like in the relaxed English school where I teach), these kids just want to be kids.  It's true: Asian kids are just kids.  This is evidenced by their loud yells, their desire to do anything but sit quietly, and their disdain for anything that isn't fun.  Like regular kids, they want to run the classroom.

I need to clarify.  There are many children who are well behaved and who are diligent, but the extremely crazy ones greatly eclipse them.  I felt a magnificent sense of accomplishment when I captured an entire class' attention with Quest for Camelot one day.  They were intrigued by the setting of the story and by the story itself.  (They also said the characters were ugly.)  Boy, were they focused!  And quiet!  And interested!  Log that one away in awesome Korean occurrences!

Outside of the classroom, they're completely enjoyable.  Inside the classroom, their chaos grates against my mission of order.  I'll have some  a lot of adjusting to do, but I can't wait till I'm confident and comfortable in my role as their teacher.  I look forward to getting to have fun with them, to building relationships with them, and to getting them to learn something.  I remember during my internship with the Dayton City School's ESL program when I was addicted to that light in the kids' eyes when they finally got something and when they enjoyed learning.  My favorite phrase was, "Will you read it to me?!"  I love that.

Here's to learning.  And here's to teachers everywhere.

(And, First Grade Teacher whose name I can't remember, I'm so sorry for being a brat!)

My favorite things from today!

My original thought was to facebook these things, then I thought about tweeting, but I've settled on the best medium: my good friend the blog.  There were just too many good things to tell you about!  And, while I could tell you which events are my favorites, that would undeservedly diminish the others.  They're all such great things, so I'll just put them in chronological order.

#1

My kids can be really rambunctious.  I mean really rambunctious.  The Korean schools and the Korean teachers are very firm, orderly, and strict, so the kids take full advantage of  the relaxed nature of my English school.  (Read: they goof off all the time.)  It's an enticing challenge to find something educational to focus their energy on, and, by golly, I did that twice today!

One of my morning classes is composed of six 6-year-old boys.  I somewhat affectionately call them my devil-children class.  (Melissa, who also teaches them, and I are constantly sharing bits about these kids and about what ridiculous and naughty things they've done during the day.)  We read a storybook about camping this week, and the story briefly touched on star gazing.  Today I took my kids on an expedition across space!  (Thank you, God, for History and Discovery channel and Youtube!)  They. Were. Enraptured.  One kid even started shouting out more constellations he wanted to see.  It was we rewarding.  And, heck, I learned things, too!  I love those moments.

Another one of my classes was studying water, clean water, dirty water, and conservation.  I showed them a video about an African tribe that only had access to a little bit of dirty water.  The video talked about how the women have to walk and walk and walk to get this water.  It showed a girl using a sponge to soak up dirty water she had to dig for.  The kids were amazed and asked questions.  "They have to drink that?!  It's dirty!  She's using a sponge!  Is that their food?"  It touched my own heart to watch the video, but I was warmed to hear the sympathy and genuine concern and interest in the kids' voices.  I showed them a video about missionaries helping to build wells next, and I talked with them briefly about how we can help and what we can do to save water.

Secret awesomeness: I asked how many of them went to church.  Two.  The two boys.  When I asked what else we could do for them, the one said, "Pray.  We can pray for rain."  Yes.  Absolutely yes.  That makes teaching awesome.

#2

Heading down to the subway station, I saw an obvious American.  It's always strange when I see another foreigner.  I feel an instant connection with them, but I can't always tell if they feel the same or if they want to even act on that connection.  In fact, some of them just keep looking straight ahead as if to say, "I'm having my own Korean experience, and I don't want other foreigners to come into it."  So when I saw this guy, I looked away.  But, I couldn't help myself, I looked back.  To my astonishment and happiness, he was looking at me, too.  What?!  He gave me the head nod!  Dude, yes!

We got on the same tram, and I awkwardly stayed in my spot a few yards away.  I'd gone over there to look at the map, and I still didn't feel comfortable walking over to say hey.  I did notice when he left the tram, though.  I looked around for him when I saw he'd left his spot.  I looked out the window and saw him walking by.  He looked directly at me, smiled, and gave a friendly wave.  I smiled, too, and I smiled big.  I enthusiastically waved back.  Absolutely awesome, again!

#3

I bought a violin today!!!

I searched on Craigslist for a violin early this week.  You never know, someone may be trying to get rid of one in Seoul for cheap.  Boy, does God love me!  I got a pretty good sounding violin, two extra strings, a nice bow, good rosin, an iffy shoulder rest, and a set of guitar strings... all for $50!!  Such a good deal!  Even better?  The guy making the transfer, after pointing out that I was new to Korea, asked if I'd like to hang out for a while over some coffee.  Heck yes; I love strangers!

Add this instance to another reason why I love coffee shops.

And there you have it!  Add free pizza from a teacher's meeting, and today's pretty high up there on my favorite days in Korea list.

What things make your day?  I'd love to hear!

My favorite things from today!

My original thought was to facebook these things, then I thought about tweeting, but I've settled on the best medium: my good friend the blog.  There were just too many good things to tell you about!  And, while I could tell you which events are my favorites, that would undeservedly diminish the others.  They're all such great things, so I'll just put them in chronological order.

#1

My kids can be really rambunctious.  I mean really rambunctious.  The Korean schools and the Korean teachers are very firm, orderly, and strict, so the kids take full advantage of  the relaxed nature of my English school.  (Read: they goof off all the time.)  It's an enticing challenge to find something educational to focus their energy on, and, by golly, I did that twice today!

One of my morning classes is composed of six 6-year-old boys.  I somewhat affectionately call them my devil-children class.  (Melissa, who also teaches them, and I are constantly sharing bits about these kids and about what ridiculous and naughty things they've done during the day.)  We read a storybook about camping this week, and the story briefly touched on star gazing.  Today I took my kids on an expedition across space!  (Thank you, God, for History and Discovery channel and Youtube!)  They. Were. Enraptured.  One kid even started shouting out more constellations he wanted to see.  It was we rewarding.  And, heck, I learned things, too!  I love those moments.

Another one of my classes was studying water, clean water, dirty water, and conservation.  I showed them a video about an African tribe that only had access to a little bit of dirty water.  The video talked about how the women have to walk and walk and walk to get this water.  It showed a girl using a sponge to soak up dirty water she had to dig for.  The kids were amazed and asked questions.  "They have to drink that?!  It's dirty!  She's using a sponge!  Is that their food?"  It touched my own heart to watch the video, but I was warmed to hear the sympathy and genuine concern and interest in the kids' voices.  I showed them a video about missionaries helping to build wells next, and I talked with them briefly about how we can help and what we can do to save water.

Secret awesomeness: I asked how many of them went to church.  Two.  The two boys.  When I asked what else we could do for them, the one said, "Pray.  We can pray for rain."  Yes.  Absolutely yes.  That makes teaching awesome.

#2

Heading down to the subway station, I saw an obvious American.  It's always strange when I see another foreigner.  I feel an instant connection with them, but I can't always tell if they feel the same or if they want to even act on that connection.  In fact, some of them just keep looking straight ahead as if to say, "I'm having my own Korean experience, and I don't want other foreigners to come into it."  So when I saw this guy, I looked away.  But, I couldn't help myself, I looked back.  To my astonishment and happiness, he was looking at me, too.  What?!  He gave me the head nod!  Dude, yes!

We got on the same tram, and I awkwardly stayed in my spot a few yards away.  I'd gone over there to look at the map, and I still didn't feel comfortable walking over to say hey.  I did notice when he left the tram, though.  I looked around for him when I saw he'd left his spot.  I looked out the window and saw him walking by.  He looked directly at me, smiled, and gave a friendly wave.  I smiled, too, and I smiled big.  I enthusiastically waved back.  Absolutely awesome, again!

#3

I bought a violin today!!!

I searched on Craigslist for a violin early this week.  You never know, someone may be trying to get rid of one in Seoul for cheap.  Boy, does God love me!  I got a pretty good sounding violin, two extra strings, a nice bow, good rosin, an iffy shoulder rest, and a set of guitar strings... all for $50!!  Such a good deal!  Even better?  The guy making the transfer, after pointing out that I was new to Korea, asked if I'd like to hang out for a while over some coffee.  Heck yes; I love strangers!

Add this instance to another reason why I love coffee shops.

And there you have it!  Add free pizza from a teacher's meeting, and today's pretty high up there on my favorite days in Korea list.

What things make your day?  I'd love to hear!

Sokcho and the DMZ, Part 3: The beach and, finally, Sokcho

This last section will be a lot easier to write about because, not only do I have pictures from Jeremy to use, but nothing too emotional, difficult, or strange happened.

On our third day, we opened the doors to find sunshine!  It had been rainy and cloudy since the time we'd arrived, so we packed up our things for a couple hours at the barbed wired beach.  The guys and I made a stupendous sand castle complex complete with watch towers for the North Koreans, spears for defense, and (Jeremy's idea) a sacrificing stone in case any of the reds got too close.  I added "statues" that symbolized the hope for reunification, and they guys nodded and said that was probably a good idea, too.  (It really was a great sand creation.  Jessica took a picture.  I'll have to show you once I can!)

After the beach, we checked out of the minbak, said good bye to our friendly ajuma, got picked up by Homie again, and were dropped off at what seemed like a bus stop.  There was a shut down bus and a building with a sleeping man inside, but we were at a loss for what to do.  We couldn't wake the man, we saw no times, and we didn't know the language.  We sat and waited.  After about 8 minutes, another bus pulled up, the sleeping man woke up, and away we went with him and the first bus.

When we arrived at Sokcho, Patrick and Jamie had already arrived.  We met up with them at our hostel, The House.  Guys.  Guys, guys, guys.  If you ever have reason to go to Korea, and if you ever have time to spare while you're there, go to The House.  Just to be there.  Who cares about the beach, the amazing food, the culture, and the shopping?  The House was Awesome.  The owner, Mr. Yoo, was so kind, helpful, and relaxed.  The aesthetics were eclectic, cozy, and they seemed to say, "You're different?  Then you belong here."  The overall atmosphere was one of welcome and ease.  There were so man flavors in this place.  The walls were smothered in places from postcards, notes, and letters from previous customers who'd come from all over the world.  I could go on and on, but here's my word: I loved it.  You will, too.  (Also, there was a dog.  A big one.  I loved him.)

The guest eating, cooking, and internet area

These are the outdoor areas where we played cards and dice and where we were offered honey dew and chicken from other guests.  We shared a Sickers bar in return.
I can't wait to go back there.  Seriously, I'm going back.
Images from The House

Dinner was sushimi, which is raw, cut fish laid out for you to eat.  It's not wrapped with rice or seaweed like sushi, it's just raw fish.  I still don't like it.  Afterward, we watched The Goonies and we all snuggled in for bed on the mats on the floor.

The next day, we went to Seoraksan National Park and climbed up a mountain to some beautiful waterfalls.  Commence photo tour: (Again, these are all from Jeremy.)

Seoraksan National Park
It was gorgeous.

Left to right: Patrick, Jamie, Me, Marie, Jessica, and Todd
On the way into the hiking trails, there were two stands selling a wild mountain berry/blueberry wine.  It tasted like blueberry syrup with just a little bit of kick in it.  Too much became too sweet, but the stuff was delicious.  I've said I haven't found an alcohol I enjoy yet, but I would gladly poor this one over my pancakes if I had a cup of milk nearby to cut the sweetness.

And this one has Jeremy on the right end.  He was taking the previous picture.

This is the Buddha in the park.  It was erected within the last 30 years.  It was interesting seeing people bow and pray to it.  I didn't really know what to do.

I took the bus back to Seoul shortly after we returned from the hike due to dwindling funds, and I got to hear stories of the epic dinner that the crew had that night.  I wish I didn't have to miss out on the feast, but I'm so glad I got to go at all!  The hike was beautiful, the DMZ was educational, I've seen more of Korea, and I've become so much more comfortable with the crew!  It was a great trip.

Sokcho and the DMZ, Part 3: The beach and, finally, Sokcho

This last section will be a lot easier to write about because, not only do I have pictures from Jeremy to use, but nothing too emotional, difficult, or strange happened.

On our third day, we opened the doors to find sunshine!  It had been rainy and cloudy since the time we'd arrived, so we packed up our things for a couple hours at the barbed wired beach.  The guys and I made a stupendous sand castle complex complete with watch towers for the North Koreans, spears for defense, and (Jeremy's idea) a sacrificing stone in case any of the reds got too close.  I added "statues" that symbolized the hope for reunification, and they guys nodded and said that was probably a good idea, too.  (It really was a great sand creation.  Jessica took a picture.  I'll have to show you once I can!)

After the beach, we checked out of the minbak, said good bye to our friendly ajuma, got picked up by Homie again, and were dropped off at what seemed like a bus stop.  There was a shut down bus and a building with a sleeping man inside, but we were at a loss for what to do.  We couldn't wake the man, we saw no times, and we didn't know the language.  We sat and waited.  After about 8 minutes, another bus pulled up, the sleeping man woke up, and away we went with him and the first bus.

When we arrived at Sokcho, Patrick and Jamie had already arrived.  We met up with them at our hostel, The House.  Guys.  Guys, guys, guys.  If you ever have reason to go to Korea, and if you ever have time to spare while you're there, go to The House.  Just to be there.  Who cares about the beach, the amazing food, the culture, and the shopping?  The House was Awesome.  The owner, Mr. Yoo, was so kind, helpful, and relaxed.  The aesthetics were eclectic, cozy, and they seemed to say, "You're different?  Then you belong here."  The overall atmosphere was one of welcome and ease.  There were so man flavors in this place.  The walls were smothered in places from postcards, notes, and letters from previous customers who'd come from all over the world.  I could go on and on, but here's my word: I loved it.  You will, too.  (Also, there was a dog.  A big one.  I loved him.)

The guest eating, cooking, and internet area

These are the outdoor areas where we played cards and dice and where we were offered honey dew and chicken from other guests.  We shared a Sickers bar in return.
I can't wait to go back there.  Seriously, I'm going back.
Images from The House

Dinner was sushimi, which is raw, cut fish laid out for you to eat.  It's not wrapped with rice or seaweed like sushi, it's just raw fish.  I still don't like it.  Afterward, we watched The Goonies and we all snuggled in for bed on the mats on the floor.

The next day, we went to Seoraksan National Park and climbed up a mountain to some beautiful waterfalls.  Commence photo tour: (Again, these are all from Jeremy.)

Seoraksan National Park
It was gorgeous.

Left to right: Patrick, Jamie, Me, Marie, Jessica, and Todd
On the way into the hiking trails, there were two stands selling a wild mountain berry/blueberry wine.  It tasted like blueberry syrup with just a little bit of kick in it.  Too much became too sweet, but the stuff was delicious.  I've said I haven't found an alcohol I enjoy yet, but I would gladly poor this one over my pancakes if I had a cup of milk nearby to cut the sweetness.

And this one has Jeremy on the right end.  He was taking the previous picture.

This is the Buddha in the park.  It was erected within the last 30 years.  It was interesting seeing people bow and pray to it.  I didn't really know what to do.

I took the bus back to Seoul shortly after we returned from the hike due to dwindling funds, and I got to hear stories of the epic dinner that the crew had that night.  I wish I didn't have to miss out on the feast, but I'm so glad I got to go at all!  The hike was beautiful, the DMZ was educational, I've seen more of Korea, and I've become so much more comfortable with the crew!  It was a great trip.

Sokcho and the DMZ, Part 2: Exposure to the Korean War

Day two of our vacation began pretty early since we needed to be ready to leave for our DMZ tour at 09:00.  We gobbled our processed and preserved pastries then headed out the door.  The same cab driver from before greeted us.  I'm glad to say that he looked a lot more friendly and trustworthy now that we knew where he was taking us.

We first went to the observation tower.  We had to write our names on a form that the cab driver (affectionately called "Homie" by Jessica) passed to the young army men at the checkpoint halfway there.  The young man looked at the paper, checked in our trunk, gave us a permission slip, and motioned us onward.  The threat level has gone up and down since the war ended due to outbursts of aggression, the discovery of North Korean tunnels leading into South Korea, and other things, but we weren't in any real danger being so close.  Even so, my mind was not allowing the connection between War Zone and Tourist Attraction.  I've never studied the Korean War, and I've only heard small amounts of unverified information about the current state of communist North Korea.  Still, something very strange clicked on inside me when I saw a Dippin' Dots stand outside this building marking the bloodiest part in this people's history.  It just didn't seem right.

The observation tower was set up by the North Koreans.  The plaques and posters there were all in Korean besides their headings of "Fashion of North Korea," "Food of North Korea," Technology of North Korea," and so on.  The pictures were barely informative, and I understood that they were set up and posed anyway.  The North Korean people live in very harsh conditions with most of their food being reserved for a hungry army.  The crew discussed "what the heck can the North Koreans do?!" and Todd didn't like the fact that they can't just go out for mandu.  The sparkling amethyst jewelry at the observation tower gift shop looked extremely out of place in a museum falsely describing the plight of 23 million confused, brainwashed, and suffering people.

Guard post Ouelliet evac patrol
via Mark Heathco's DMZ veteran site

Unfortunately, the mist and fog were too thick for us to see anything well from the observation decks, so we didn't actually see North Korea, but we took our picture in front of where North Korea should be anyway.  There was more to see at a nearby Korean War museum.  There were some displays of articles from the war, a life-size diorama of army barracks, and a large tribute to the UN and the countries who helped the South Koreans in the war.  There was also a short movie that showed images of the war along with a timeline of the events.  Marie and I went back to the theater to watch it.  After solemnly walking through the museum thus far and after letting the sorrow, pain, and terror wash over me, this film broke my heart.  I wasn't able to process through what was happening in my emotions and my mind.  I process by speaking or writing, and I wasn't with anyone with whom I felt I could share.  I did ask Marie if she would let me hold her hand for a while.  It was a satisfactory substitute for crying on one of my beloveds' shoulders.

Our cab driver had been keeping his eyes on us the entire time, not to make sure we weren't doing anything wrong, but to help us out and to keep us on schedule.  He really was a brick the whole day.  He took us to a second museum.  This one was, in a word, excellent.  It was extremely well done, well thought out, and the information was well articulated in English and, I assume, Korean.  If I remember correctly, there was also Chinese or Japanese available.  The first museum had already pulled my heart down to a very sorrowful place, and this second one had its hold on my soul, too, but, gosh!  There was so much English!  This meant there was so much information available to me!  The intellectual, museum-loving, knowledge-desiring part of me leapt up to the occasion.  I learned so much!  And it was awesome!

At the end of the museum, there were large, fake trees made for people to attache paper leaves to by twisty-ties.  (Think 2009 Jr/Sr awesomeness.)  There were pens available with which to write on the leaves.  From reading the leaves I could find written in English, plenty of people seemed to be at a loss of what to say.  There was one leaf that said, "I learned what DMZ means. LOL."  I'm glad that this person learned something new, but I was surprised that this was the only thing they wrote.  My heart had been broken for these people.  Sympathy and empathy had been roiling in my guts all day.  My soul rallied with them in their desire for reunification with their brothers and sisters.  My group went on, but I stayed there among the trees, raised my hands a little, and prayed for the coming healing, regeneration, and redemption.  May I say?  I am so glad I serve a God that has promised to make all things new.  The hope I felt inside of me, it wasn't an "I hope that this will happen one day."  Thought tinged with sadness at the need of redemption, it was an "I am confident redemption is coming; I hope it comes soon" kind of hope.  That, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

The rest of the afternoon involved us going out from the museum and being dropped off by Homie.  He told us to call him when we were finished wandering around the tourist area.  He never showed when we called, and we hesitantly got in a different cab driver's car, all squished and not too optimistic.  We'd grown pretty loyal to Homie since the last afternoon, you see.  New Cab Driver did get us home safely, though, but we'd left our stamped pictures we made at the museum with Homie.  Wouldn't you know it?  Homie stopped by our minbak, knocked on our door, woke us up from our nap, and dropped them off for us!  That guy is indisputably awesome.

After our nap and some dinner, we settled in to watch Taegukgi, a Korean film about the war.  Guys, this film was truly excellent.  Very graphic and very difficult for my sensitive heart to watch, but very informative and very well-made.  I didn't see anyone else in the room crying, but I'd say, if you have a box off tissues and a good buddy to watch it with, go for it.

Translated: The Brotherhood of War (2004) Rated: R
Poster image via Wikipedia

After this movie, the crew decided on Step Brothers to lighten the mood.  This led to bedtime with Jessica and I being offered the bed this time.

---------------------------------------------

You can go to this highly recommended site for beautiful and telling photos of the current state of North Korea.

This is a small but neat article about students getting to visit North Korea.

Sokcho and the DMZ, Part 2: Exposure to the Korean War

Day two of our vacation began pretty early since we needed to be ready to leave for our DMZ tour at 09:00.  We gobbled our processed and preserved pastries then headed out the door.  The same cab driver from before greeted us.  I'm glad to say that he looked a lot more friendly and trustworthy now that we knew where he was taking us.

We first went to the observation tower.  We had to write our names on a form that the cab driver (affectionately called "Homie" by Jessica) passed to the young army men at the checkpoint halfway there.  The young man looked at the paper, checked in our trunk, gave us a permission slip, and motioned us onward.  The threat level has gone up and down since the war ended due to outbursts of aggression, the discovery of North Korean tunnels leading into South Korea, and other things, but we weren't in any real danger being so close.  Even so, my mind was not allowing the connection between War Zone and Tourist Attraction.  I've never studied the Korean War, and I've only heard small amounts of unverified information about the current state of communist North Korea.  Still, something very strange clicked on inside me when I saw a Dippin' Dots stand outside this building marking the bloodiest part in this people's history.  It just didn't seem right.

The observation tower was set up by the North Koreans.  The plaques and posters there were all in Korean besides their headings of "Fashion of North Korea," "Food of North Korea," Technology of North Korea," and so on.  The pictures were barely informative, and I understood that they were set up and posed anyway.  The North Korean people live in very harsh conditions with most of their food being reserved for a hungry army.  The crew discussed "what the heck can the North Koreans do?!" and Todd didn't like the fact that they can't just go out for mandu.  The sparkling amethyst jewelry at the observation tower gift shop looked extremely out of place in a museum falsely describing the plight of 23 million confused, brainwashed, and suffering people.

Guard post Ouelliet evac patrol
via Mark Heathco's DMZ veteran site

Unfortunately, the mist and fog were too thick for us to see anything well from the observation decks, so we didn't actually see North Korea, but we took our picture in front of where North Korea should be anyway.  There was more to see at a nearby Korean War museum.  There were some displays of articles from the war, a life-size diorama of army barracks, and a large tribute to the UN and the countries who helped the South Koreans in the war.  There was also a short movie that showed images of the war along with a timeline of the events.  Marie and I went back to the theater to watch it.  After solemnly walking through the museum thus far and after letting the sorrow, pain, and terror wash over me, this film broke my heart.  I wasn't able to process through what was happening in my emotions and my mind.  I process by speaking or writing, and I wasn't with anyone with whom I felt I could share.  I did ask Marie if she would let me hold her hand for a while.  It was a satisfactory substitute for crying on one of my beloveds' shoulders.

Our cab driver had been keeping his eyes on us the entire time, not to make sure we weren't doing anything wrong, but to help us out and to keep us on schedule.  He really was a brick the whole day.  He took us to a second museum.  This one was, in a word, excellent.  It was extremely well done, well thought out, and the information was well articulated in English and, I assume, Korean.  If I remember correctly, there was also Chinese or Japanese available.  The first museum had already pulled my heart down to a very sorrowful place, and this second one had its hold on my soul, too, but, gosh!  There was so much English!  This meant there was so much information available to me!  The intellectual, museum-loving, knowledge-desiring part of me leapt up to the occasion.  I learned so much!  And it was awesome!

At the end of the museum, there were large, fake trees made for people to attache paper leaves to by twisty-ties.  (Think 2009 Jr/Sr awesomeness.)  There were pens available with which to write on the leaves.  From reading the leaves I could find written in English, plenty of people seemed to be at a loss of what to say.  There was one leaf that said, "I learned what DMZ means. LOL."  I'm glad that this person learned something new, but I was surprised that this was the only thing they wrote.  My heart had been broken for these people.  Sympathy and empathy had been roiling in my guts all day.  My soul rallied with them in their desire for reunification with their brothers and sisters.  My group went on, but I stayed there among the trees, raised my hands a little, and prayed for the coming healing, regeneration, and redemption.  May I say?  I am so glad I serve a God that has promised to make all things new.  The hope I felt inside of me, it wasn't an "I hope that this will happen one day."  Thought tinged with sadness at the need of redemption, it was an "I am confident redemption is coming; I hope it comes soon" kind of hope.  That, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

The rest of the afternoon involved us going out from the museum and being dropped off by Homie.  He told us to call him when we were finished wandering around the tourist area.  He never showed when we called, and we hesitantly got in a different cab driver's car, all squished and not too optimistic.  We'd grown pretty loyal to Homie since the last afternoon, you see.  New Cab Driver did get us home safely, though, but we'd left our stamped pictures we made at the museum with Homie.  Wouldn't you know it?  Homie stopped by our minbak, knocked on our door, woke us up from our nap, and dropped them off for us!  That guy is indisputably awesome.

After our nap and some dinner, we settled in to watch Taegukgi, a Korean film about the war.  Guys, this film was truly excellent.  Very graphic and very difficult for my sensitive heart to watch, but very informative and very well-made.  I didn't see anyone else in the room crying, but I'd say, if you have a box off tissues and a good buddy to watch it with, go for it.

Translated: The Brotherhood of War (2004) Rated: R
Poster image via Wikipedia

After this movie, the crew decided on Step Brothers to lighten the mood.  This led to bedtime with Jessica and I being offered the bed this time.

---------------------------------------------

You can go to this highly recommended site for beautiful and telling photos of the current state of North Korea.

This is a small but neat article about students getting to visit North Korea.

Sokcho and the DMZ, Part 1: My last minute vacation

My school's week-long summer break fell on the first week of August, my third week in Korea.  Just as a note, I've chosen to call the family-like group of the 16 foreign teachers that make up the English staff at school "the crew."  Most of the crew had made plans long ago to use their vacation for world traveling.  (Traveling's a big priority with this group.  Go figure.)  Some went to Thailand, others to Japan, and others to places I've never heard of in Korea.  The Friday before our vacation, sweet and gentle Marie asked if I'd be interested in going with her and some others to Sokcho.  We weren't sure if there would be a spot on the bus for me, but, if the logistics would work out, I said I'd love to go.

Sokcho is a tourist town on the northeastern coast of Korea.  The plan was to stay there for a couple nights after staying two nights in a more northern town that's further away from the business of the city.  When we were dropped off by the bus at this small town (we never did figure out its name), we thought we knew which direction we should walk in, but we stood around aimlessly for a while.  A friendly ajuma stepped up and said, "Mibak?  Minbak?"  This is how you call a place similar to a bed and breakfast without the breakfast.  From my understanding, it's a way to call accommodations, but it's not to describe a hotel or a hostel.  It essentially means "guest room."

Let me take a moment to introduce my group.  Besides myself and Marie, there is Todd who is Marie's husband, Jessica, and Jeremy.  When Jessica showed the ajuma the phone number we had for our reserved minbak, the ajuma whipped out her cell phone and started a very loud, very passionate conversation with the poor soul on the other side of the line.  Granted, we had no idea what this lady was saying, but I was really glad she wasn't saying it to me.  I do believe that this communication is pretty standard, especially with this age group, but I couldn't keep the looks of surprise from my eyes, especially when she started waving the phone away from her face and making interference sounds to us and into the speaker.

When she hung up, she looked at us as pleasantly as before and motioned for us to stay.  We didn't really have any other option.  We felt the same way when a mini van cab driver pulled up, beeped his horn, and motioned for us to get it.  We looked around for our ajuma, hoping to find some assurance this this was what we were supposed to do, but she was no where in sight, and the cab driver was impatient.  We got in the van.

Four grown adults in the backseat makes for an interesting time no matter where you're going, just wanted to get that out there, but we started noticing more interesting things pretty quickly.  Firstly, Todd noticed that the mileage reader hadn't been turned on.  Then, someone mentioned that we'd surely been on the road a lot longer than the five minutes of walking distance prescribed by the minbak's website directions.  The freakiest part was when we started seeing signs that said "6 km to the DMZ."  To top it all off, we passed through camouflage painted walls, not once, but twice.

Jeremy said it first.  "I've seen movies that start this way."  I couldn't tell if anyone was legitimately nervous, but kidnapping and human trafficking instantly became the topic of joking conversation.  Needless to say, we were very relieved when the cab driver dropped us off at a minbak instead of at the North Korean border.

The minbak was run by a caring ajuma who didn't speak a lick of English and who gave us some of her fresh corn within minute of our arrival.  Not being able to speak Korean, we were very thankful for the other family staying at the minbak.  They spoke English and translated for us.  They also told us we were quite close to the DMZ, and they recommended us stopping by there.  Jessica had always wanted to go, and her contract's finished in a month, and the rest of us were at least moderately interested, so we booked a tour for the next day.

After going to a small store nearby to buy ramen for dinner and eggs and pastries for tomorrow's lunch, we set off in the mist toward the beach.  (I had a beautiful chat with Marie on the way.  However, I think most chats one has with Marie are beautiful.)  Our minbak was only a five minutes' walk away.

This is exactly what the beach would look like on a sunny day.
Photo from Karin van Toor and Peter Mak's trip of cycling around the same area we were in

When we arrived we were first struck by the presence of barbed wire.  We'd seen it along the coast as we got closer to the DMZ, but being up close to it and realizing it wasn't just for show but for protection should the North Korean decide to invade... it was eerie.  The persistent mist and the fading light added to the surrealism, but we still enjoyed a pleasant walk outside.

After splashing in the Sea of Japan (or the East Sea, if you're Korean) and drinking in the smell of the beach, we headed back for movies on Jeremy's laptop.  When things wound down, the boys settled on the two-person bed, and we three girls snuggled into our mats and blankets on the floor.

For these first two nights, I slept only 10 miles away from North Korea.  I think that's kind of cool.