My Boss the Communist Dictator

It may seem racist or even hyperbolic to compare one's boss to dictator Kim Jong Il.  He doesn't have aspirations for world conquest (yet), and he doesn't attend colossal military parades in his honor, but there are enough similarities for me to mull and snicker to myself as he reprimands me for the third time this week.

The Personality Cult

Stalin, Mao and our buddy Kim all had or have personality cults.  If you're not abreast to totalitarian regimes, a personality cult is, to quote Wikipedia, "when a country's leader uses mass media to create a heroic public image, often through unquestioning flattery and praise."

The first thing anyone notices about this institution is the boss's face in promotional posters plastered in every hall, classroom and office.  His head, which is already rather large, takes up half of each poster, the rest being Korean text which presumably exemplifies his wisdom in English education.  Beside the front desk there is a large flat panel that plays non-stop footage of the boss giving lectures.  There is no audio or subtitles; all one can perceive is the man's head contorting and wobbling passionately.

His ubiquitous presence in the school is a throwback to Mao and Kim, who in attempt to create  omnipresent, godlike status, plastered portraits of themselves in every public area, from homes to classrooms to courtyards.  Now all we need is the boss in wristwatches and we'd have a cult for sure.

Empty Rhetoric

We can't reference Mr. Kim on this one since as we know, the fellow stays pretty quiet.  Mao, on the other hand, is remembered for a slue of vague one-liners like this:

"Letting a hundred flowers blossom and a hundred schools of thought contend is the policy for promoting the progress of the arts and the sciences and a flourishing culture in our land."

We need flowers to bloom to help sciences?  I don't have my Mao book in front of me to quote more hilarious and perplexing aphorisms, but suffice it to say, Mao was no public speaker.  When he did speak, however, it was usually to remark on the obvious or irrelevant.

My boss, in turn, loves a good speech.  That's why he's featured on the front-desk monitor orating inaudibly.  At our weekly meeting, he emphasizes that we need to be more professional teachers.  He then asks each teacher their view on how to be professional, and responds to each answer by explaining how we are completely wrong.  His explanations are never clear, and specific questions directed at him result in further befuddlement.  Staff emerge from meetings more confused than when they went in, and our failure to follow his vague directions result in more meetings.

It should be said that my boss's wisdom is followed exactly and never questioned to his face.  Neither logic nor experience enter in the discussion.  The boss commands and we obey.

Hairstyle

I could continue with grim comparisons, but I'd like to end this on a more amusing note, and that's hairstyle.  Dictatorships and goofy hair go together like celery and peanut butter.  I can't post a photo of my boss and I couldn't find a photo of a Korean guy with bad hair, so their current president will have to suffice.

My boss's hair underscores the passion of his speeches.  Each time he twitches his head to make a point, his hair shakes nervously, as if to echo the man's passion.  It's kind of a like the pet of a cartoon super-villain.  It's hard to explain without an image.  You'll just have to take my word that in this manner and others, my boss really is a junior communist leader.

And now I'm fired.

Night Running in Seoul

I have this habit of intentionally getting lost while running. I've done this in every city I've lived in, from the cherry orchards of Traverse City, Michigan to the hazardous industrial complexes of Qingdao, China. I don't know what it is, I just feel that running shouldn't be done just for its own sake.

I was just twenty minutes into my run, at around 10:30pm last night when I realized I didn't know which direction my apartment was. I had followed a river several miles before veering off down random, empty alleys.   Forty minutes of aimless sprinting and gesticulating to Journey left me in a district I hadn't seen before, and my bum leg began to call.

Now, anyone who's been to Seoul can tell you that it's easy to get lost.  Seoul, like its people, is  homogeneous; nearly every square block looks like the next.  Each block invariably contains at least one or more convenient store, PC cafe, karaoke room, franchise bar, and generic Korean restaurant.  There are few landmarks and even less street signs.

So, seeing my mistake, I asked a middle-aged Korean man in Korean where is Daecheong station, which is just below my apartment.  He shouted some Korean and pointed in several directions.  I began running in the first direction the man pointed to.  I crossed several rivers before asking for directions again.  This time the man said "Let's go together" in Korean and led me a few blocks before incomprehensibly explaining the rest of the way.  Somehow I found familiar territory, and after two hours of running, I was at home.

Here's to many safe returns, I guess.

Seoul at a Glance

When I lived in Yongin two years back, Seoul was the place to be.  Now, it's the place I am.  I reside in a quieter corner on the south side of the Han River, away from the lights and noise of the main drag.  I live in an office-tel apartment building above a fitness club, the subway system, and a couple dozen Korean cafes that all serve the same dishes.  There are parks and recreation areas on every side of me.

To me, Seoul is a city of amusing contrasts.  There are mountains that rise above forests of drab high-rise apartments, and Buddhist temples tucked between Dunkin' Donuts shops.  Seoul has much to offer foreigners in the ways of food, drink and merriment, but less in the ways of cultural and historical immersion.  Seoul is obscured by the much better known metropolises of Beijing and Tokyo, and for good reasons.  Seoul lacks the amazing spectacles of Beijing, and its technological efficiency lags behind Tokyo.

The first thing anyone will tell you about Seoul is that it's huge.  Hovering somewhere between ten and fifteen million, Seoul rivals Beijing and is about half the size of Tokyo.  But Korea is a tiny country, about the geographic size of Michigan.  Just imagine Michigan with forty-five million.  Seoul comprises around a quarter of that, and its sprawl accounts for considerably more.  My former town of Yongin is at the fringes of the city and is showing signs of assimilation.  One might say that within a hundred years, Seoul and South Korea will be one of the same.  

It's difficult to give a general account of Seoul, or any city really, so for the next twelve months I'll be examining more precise aspects.  Hope to have you along.  Welcome back to Korea, everybody. 한국 아서세요.

Once you go Mac, you never go back, except when you do

So, for the last month I've been toiling with the great technological debate: PC or Mac?  This question is as hotly argued as liberal or conservative, pro-life or choice, taco or burrito.   There is little I can contribute to the table of pros and cons.  It's said that PCs are cheaper, more compatible with software, and have more memory, while Macs are better for graphic editing, are sleeker and have much haughtier clientele.  It's difficult to get an honest assessment since most folks are biased one side or the other, and they typically articulate their preference by pointing out the flaws of the other side.   What a confused purchaser needs is someone who has experience with both platforms, which as of last week, is what I've become.  I'm a Mac user.

So, why?  Well, those Apple commercials were convincing.  The last thing I want is to suddenly become obese and forgetful.   But really, the kicker for me was Apple's college promo, where college students (and their brothers?) can get a free Ipod Touch and fifty bucks off a Macbook.  I opted for the aluminum Macbook because it's shinier.  Plus, Apple first sent me a defective Macbook that I had to return for a new one.  They deducted another hundred bucks off the total.  

There is little to distinguish my Macky from my old HP lappy.  Both are solid devices, but that was before the arrival of Vista, Windows most terrifying operating system.  So, in the end, I chose one side to avoid certain pitfalls of the other, that and promos.  Delicious promos.

Top Ten Goals for Korea 2009

So it looks like I'll be returning to Korea in two or three weeks. I'm reluctant for a number of reasons; namely, I've lived there before, it's not related to my career goals, and politically, the ROK has been disappointing lately. But rather then dwelling on reasons to hesitate, I'll post some goals for Korea Part Deux.

1) Save 20k for grad school. Aw yeah.
2) Fix my knee either by therapy or surgery.
3) Study for the GRE everyday and take it this fall.
4) Create and maintain as many correspondences as possible with professionals in the information science fields. (That's what I wanna study.)
5) Get all the documents ready for my application.
6) Go to therapy / a gym five days a week.
7) Pay for Korean or Mandarin lessons at an academy.
8) Visit Jeju-Do and the DMZ.
9) Treat myself to one of the following: lasik eye surgery, a digital SLR, or another trip to Japan.
10) Oh, and run the Seoul Marathon in the spring of 2010.

Hanguk it is.

The Pull-Push Phenomenon

Toward the end of my stay in China, I recognized a trend among the expatriate crowd in Asia. Expats in Asia --for all their various nationalities, travels and experiences--can be broadly organized into two groups. Category One is characterized first by youth. These are the ambitious, adventurous lads who have recently graduated from a liberal arts college and have decided to exploit the demand for English teachers abroad. These folks, generally speaking, are interesting, perceptive, perhaps bohemian and often worldly. When stories are exchanged among foreigners, they tend to ask more questions than state opinions; they learn the local language for, if no other reason, to impress cute, submissive locals; they try to maintain respect and a healthy curiosity for the country in which they reside. In short, they are pulled from the motherland to Asia by its inherent mystery and exoticism.

And then there’s Category Two. As you might have guessed, Twosies are noticeably older than their younger counterparts, though not necessarily old or middle-aged. Since their graduation a decade ago or more, they have remained in Asia teaching English. You’ll notice immediately how knowledgeable they are as they expound stories at great length and condescension to folks in Category One. Twosies are often jaded; they criticize local customs and admonish other expats for condoning them. Their personalities range to slightly discomforting to borderline sociopathic. When you see them verbally assaulting Asians in the native tongue for some trivial misunderstanding, you all at once realize that there had to be something wrong with them to keep them here so long. It occurs to you that they may have not belonged wherever they came from, and indeed they felt pushed to Asia by some inability to function normally at home.

‘Course, there are enough expats straddling the two categories to suggest that it isn’t as clear-cut as I would make it seem. Social awkwardness and years spent working abroad, however, are correlative enough to imply that perhaps it is actually the time spent overseas that is psychologically degenerative. It’s difficult to say without taking one’s personal history into account.

So here’s mine. I spent two years living in Asia. I’m 25, passing out of the “recent college graduate” phase to “yeah, I have a degree” phase. I went to Korea back in 2006 excited as a Category One could be. I came home from China last March thinking I would find entry-level work relevant to my degree and pursue a graduate program in the following year. What I quickly understood though, is that I am not marketable to decent labor. I’ve had a vague, idealistic idea of the career I want, I’ve been living in my parents’ home in a remote village near the Canadian border, and over the last two months of job searching, all I’ve managed to secure is another teaching job in Korea.

I need money and purpose just like the next bloke, but Korea again? No other country pays nearly as well for its foreign teachers whom lack certification. Yet I am reluctant to relive an experience. I only have so much time on this earth, and I shouldn’t be doing work that isn’t what I hope to do ten years from now, right? Right. I’m 25, encroaching 26, and the threat of swirling down the quagmire of Category Two looms. The hour is late to rethink my decision. My sanity wanes. Here I go, again.

Keeping the Faith, Losing the Religion

So, lately conservative pundits have been calling Obama's faith into question, saying that he hasn't attended church often enough and that his policies go against the bible. This comes to me as a breath of fresh air; for the first time in eight years, we have a leader that's keeping his faith to himself and letting reason and justice dictate his actions. Whereas Bush was overt in his spiritual beliefs, Obama has displayed his faith occasionally and diplomatically, like when he appointed Rick Warren to give a prayer at his inauguration. He's using his faith calculatedly.

It reminded me of American Theocracy and Religulous. Both emphatically declare the real threat that religions poses.

Kevin Phillipps's American Theocracy is a meticulous description of the rise of southern Christian fundamentalism from the pre-Civil War era to the forefront of contemporary politics. Among Phillips's scathing criticisms of the Bush administration is the idea that prophetic religion, or a doomsday mentality, has become a major influence of foreign and domestic policy.

It isn't anything new of course. Bill Maher painted a very dismal and silly portrait of religion in Religulous. Maher interviews a parade of religious figures, from evangelists to rabbis, and even mentions my old buddy, Reverend Robert Tilton. For the most part, Maher simply tries to make religious people look, well, ridiculous, and to that end he succeeds. At the end of the film though, his comical jabs crystallize into a poignant denunciation and caveat against religion. My favorite part:

"Religion is dangerous because it allows human beings who don't have all the answers to think that they do. Most people would think it's wonderful when someone says, "I'm willing, Lord! I'll do whatever you want me to do!" Except that since there are no gods actually talking to us, that void is filled in by people with their own corruptions and limitations and agendas."

That's it, really. In the last ten years, I've gone from Methodist to lukewarm, to agnostic, to secular, to antireligion. I will always have my faith in a deity because it was ingrained into me as a boy, but my faith in religion is fading fast.