The Tooth Saga: Cavities, Root Canals & Crowns, oh my!

Sometime in January 2017, while crunching some very hard candy, I noticed that there was a slight twinge in my left, rear, bottom molar. I made my first dentist appointment for a day in February when the students were not in class. It has taken 15 months to finish the work. Inspired by the “letters home” from early explorers on long and challenging treks into the unknown, or log books from ship’s captains lost at sea, I have assembled this saga as a series of Facebook posts, unearthed by future historian me.

Dentistry is not exciting, but this experience has shown me the solid consequence of the American health system that kept me financially barred from adequate dental care after I became an adult. I’m sure I could have found a dentist in the US who could have dealt with my issue more quickly and less painfully, but I would never have been able to afford it. However much of a struggle this was, I didn’t loose any teeth because I couldn’t afford to go, nor did I end up financially ruined because of a painful emergency. And if you don’t believe Americans go bankrupt from dental care, just ask Google.


20 February 2017
Dentist. ugh.
X-rays, told I need a root canal in one tooth and an inlay in another. Told the root canal will take 3-4 visits (not counting this one) and while it will be mostly covered by insurance, the crown will not be.

22 February
First root canal session.

28 February 2017
Root canal session 2: dentist agreed that I shouldn’t have felt pain the whole time since last appointment. Not sure what the problem was, but hopefully it it’s addressed. Only 2-3 more of these to go.

28 February 2017
I spent the week between in horrible terrible pain and when I got to the dentist to explain this, they went back in and found a second “root” of nerves that needed to be cleared out. They assured me it would be better after this, but that this would add some time to the process.

2 March 2017
I can’t find a record of the my thoughts from this visit. Perhaps it was unremarkable? All I have found is the text from the hospital confirming the appointment.

7 March 2017
Root canal session 4: actually the 5th visit to the dentist because the first was consult. We’re finally finished with the “root canal” portion of the procedure and although it hurt mucho ouchies, I was assured this is normal. I’m getting pretty fed up with this pain. Next week, we will start the crown procedure, minimum three visits, first visit extra long, show up an hour earlier.
14 March 2017
Dentist visit 4,378… I don’t know, I’ve lost count. Root canal is done but due to persistent pain, they did not start the crown process today. They put a temp back on and want me to wait two more weeks while I take some antibiotics. Yay.
29 March 2017
The root canal that would not end. They don’t want to do the crown until the pain stops, which is reasonable in case there is a real problem and they need to go back in. So after waiting for the last 2 weeks and having a decrease but not a cessation of pain, they topped up the temp crown and said to wait 3 more weeks. It’s a new form of hell.
19 April 2017
Remember that root canal I’ve been getting since February? Well, the pain in the tooth finally stopped and today we began the process toward a crown. This involved the dentist filing the tooth to a tiny square, then the dental tech making a temp crown of acrylic by hand. My gums are sore, but I’m happy to be making progress again. However due to the upcoming holiday, I have to wait about 2 more weeks to get the final crown installed. #longestrootcanalever
*From February 22 until April 19, I was in daily pain.
8 May 2017
This dentist… Same procedure from February… Turns out they weren’t making my crown at all, but just stuck a temp in there too kill time or something. So instead of getting my crown and being done with this ordeal like I expected, I have two more visits after this one to finish one forsaken root canal. I’ll be taking dentist recommendations for the other cavity.
17 May 2017
I have a crown!!!!! Let the normal chewing commence!
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From April 19 to May 17 is the time it took them to install the crown AFTER the pain had stopped. Although the pain in the tooth was better, there was still regular discomfort and irritation that would last 2-3 days after each visit when they poked and prodded me. Each visit I told them what hurt, when and for how long, and they continued to insist it was normal. 

Within 2 weeks, the tooth began to hurt again. I had read online that a crown could cause sensitivity as well and that some people had intermittent pain for up to 6 months after a root canal. However, as June continued, it became apparent that the pain was neither mild nor intermittent. It went from an occasional twinge at mealtimes to a constant dull ache with sharper pains when brushing my teeth or chewing.

16 June 2017
I couldn’t believe this pain was normal, regardless of how clear my exit x-ray had looked. I called the hospital but was told they were booked solid for the next 10 working days. When I told the nurse about the pain, she suggested I find another dentist. I don’t know if she was being helpful or trying to get rid of me, but either way, I didn’t feel like I had a choice.

19 June 2017
First visit to Dr. Kwon. It’s official. 2017 is the year of the dentist. Pray with me to the tooth fairy that the simple fix works because the alternative is redoing the root canal.

Dr. Kwon was a friendly if somewhat nervous man who spoke competent English. His suggestion was to grind down the crown a bit so that it wouldn’t hit the upper tooth anymore, thus relieving the pressure. He also gave me antibiotics and painkillers, and told me to wait two weeks.

It didn’t work.

27 June 2017
The tooth saga is not over after all. The pain resurges. The crown must go. Rage.
29 June 2017
Well, there goes 350$. The crown was cut off my tooth today.
6 July 2017
*This is a long rant about dentists and teeth. You have been warned.*

Trying not to nuke the dental industry at large. New dentist seemed so kind and helpful but keeps changing his mind, which is NOT reassuring… has changed the plan several times since the first time I visited, and I don’t understand why. He went from telling me that if altering the crown didn’t work, the next step was another root canal. Then today, asked me if I wanted to do another root canal or skip to the extraction… I don’t f*n know, I’ve never had this problem before ever, I go to medical experts because YOU’RE supposed to know. Extraction seems like it would suck if it’s anything like having my wisdom teeth out was, so hey maybe we should try the less invasive and less painful and less expensive thing first? But also can you please tell me what you’re going to do differently from the first dentist who clearly didn’t actually do it right? Now I’m being referred to a specialist who may or may not speak English…

The tooth has been hurting 80% of the time at least since Feb.

The referral of July 6:

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“He is a professor at Pusan National dental hospital”… I know English is not Dr. Kwon’s first language, but this sounds an awful lot like he knows a guy. Right?

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When Dr. Kwon finally texted me back, it was with a photo of a computer screen showing the website to Pusan National University Hospital…

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When I asked for the name of the specialist, Dr. Kwon said he didn’t know. When I asked about the referral, he simply sent the picture again and said “all the best and hope the treatment goes well”.

7 July 2017
Today the pain became so bad I couldn’t work. I got an appointment at the dental university hospital and started out seeing a resident, but got bumped up to specialist. She worked on the tooth for about 2 hours and found many more hidden nerves. She is pretty sure she got them all today. I’m still numb from the anasthetic, and my jaw is sore af from being open so long, but they think I should be pain free in a day or three. I’m going back on Tuesday and one more time after that. She’s trying to finish up before I go on vacation. It’s too soon to call it, but so far I feel like this is progress. Cross your everything.
8 July 2017
The good news is that the parts of me that hurt yesterday seem to have calmed down. The bad news is everything else hurts instead. My jaw aches, I can’t yawn. I bumped my front teeth with the rim of my water bottle and it hurt. I bit down too fast, it hurt… Oh yes and every muscle in my core and shoulders hurts from being clenched in pain and anticipation of pain for several hours yesterday. But nah, the dentists here are sure I’ll be fine with just Tylenol. -.-
11 July 2017
The dentist was surprised to hear I was still in pain. Surprised the Tylenol hadn’t helped. Surprised I was in pain even while sitting there not moving. They tried to begin *without anesthesia* and I nearly jumped out of the chair when she touched the tooth. It was clear to me that this is not what they were expecting.She used more lidocaine and after getting the tooth clear again, a microscope to see the smallest parts. She cleaned more, found more places that seared and stabbed through the local anesthetic.

Still in pain with the local anesthetic. Dentist finally agreed to pain meds, 3 days… My next appointment is in 7 days. Talked them up to 5 days of meds. Checked the medicine they offered. It’s a low-grade NSAID used for “mild to moderate pain” and not common in the US because if the side effects… Also 5 days worth of antibiotics and antimicrobials. While we wait. Again. To see if they finally got it all or if I have to lose the whole tooth.

16 July 2017
What a weekend. The tooth pain has receded from “OMG I’m gonna die” to “annoying persistent pain” which is nice because it allowed me to enjoy Pride yesterday and even march, but scary because I’ll take my last dose of meds today and see the dentist Tuesday and try to figure out a) why it improved, b) if it’s likely to keep improving, and c) how long we should wait to answer the question of whether or not to remove it…a week before I get on a plane to Seattle.
18 July 2017
My tooth of course did the most awkward thing if neither fully recovering nor staying bad. This half recovery led the dentist to want to try *one more* root canal cleaning to see if she can save the tooth. This was much better, no pain through the anesthetic. They still won’t give me pain meds because they think the meds aren’t what worked last week, and they said after a day or two of soreness from the procedure, I should be ok. One more appointment next week the day before I go on a trans Pacific flight. Down to the wire.
25 July 2017
Filled and temp capped the tooth today. It gets to rest 3 weeks while I’m on holiday then we check it when I get back. And if all is well we wait 3 months with a temp crown because of what happened last time. Still a game of wait and see but at least it hurts less and less often.
Went on vacation to North America for 3 weeks. Tooth pain was pretty rough for the first week, but Canadians have good meds.
16 August 2017
Theoretically, the last root canal procedure was done today (again), sans anesthetic and not that bad. Now we wait a healthy time before committing to another crown, I’m thinking a few months…
But wait! There’s more than one cavity! The original x-ray back in February showed ANOTHER problem on the upper right side of the jaw. No dentist wanted to deal with it, I later was told because they didn’t want me to be on a liquid diet since having work done on left and right at the same time would make chewing impossible. Considering I spent a few weeks not being able to chew anyway, this seems like a poor excuse… nevertheless- a new dentist must be found.

But first? LASIK and my bi-annual gov’t sponsored health check. After all, a girl can only visit a healthcare professional so many times a week without going crazy.

Had LASIK and recovery time, and managed to get lymphadenitis (Latin for “your lymph node is swollen but we don’t know why”) which got in the way of timely dental care while still keeping me in constant pain and regular hospital visits. Yay!

2 September 2017
Went to dentist number four to start on cavity number two. She says she’ll try to treat it by filling first but my fear that waiting and waiting (not my idea, every dentist I saw told me to finish root canal 1 first) now means it’s gotten worse and might need another root canal. She also found at least one maybe two other tiny cavities. And told me that I needed to do a full cleaning today (covered by insurance) before having more work done. Gentlest cleaning ever, tho. Now my teeth feel funny as almost 20 years of hardened plaque are gone, and next Saturday we’ll start on the problem tooth. The moral of this story is don’t wait two decades to get your teeth checked.
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Well, the bad news it’s another root canal. Good news, this is the gentlest dentist ever. Even the tool to administer the anesthetic was painless, and it didn’t numb half my face, and they let me hold this cute Teddy Bear. Still have 3-5 more visits for t
his root canal. Then the smaller cavities and the crowns. The year of the dentist continues.
12 September 2017
Supposedly the roots are eradicated. Now I wait 3 more hours for the anesthetic to wear off and find out if they missed any.
13 September 2017
Root Canal 2: My teeth seem to enjoy being ambiguous. This is just enough pain that I can’t be sure nothing is wrong, but not so much pain that I can be sure something is wrong… #dentalpainwaitinggame

18 September 2017
Although this is going much better than the first tooth, still some pain and she went looking for more nerves today. The anasthetic is somehow affecting part of my nose and right eye. It feels very strange. Next appointment, one week unless it hurts to much.

25 September 2017
My teeth hate me. Good news: still hurts less than the first one. Bad news: still hurts. Dentist 4 can’t figure it out and wants me to go back to Yangsan. But she’s writing an actual letter of referral so I can go straight to the specialist, and they’re refunding money since they can’t finish it there. Also, I am a dental mutant, my teeth are funny shapes. *Sobs quietly.

26 September 2017
Day 7/7 black and white photo challenge complete.

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It takes a long time to get in to see a specialist if you don’t have emergency level pain.

26 October 2017 
Finally got the the cavity filled today. Third (and easiest) tooth problem. Hooooraaaaay! Next week I start on getting the crown for root canal #1. I’m down to like 1.5 teeth problems!

31 October 2017
The second crown on the first root canal has been initiated. These folks are not kidding around. The amount of attention to detail is reassuring. Plus, when they made the impression, instead of multiple attempts with squishy molds, they waved a magic wand over me then and made a digital 3d image! I’m feeling pretty good about the fairly minor price bump over my last crown install.

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9 November 2017 
All the dentist. Got the crown, but extensive bite testing revealed it to be 4 micrometers too short. While waiting for this to get fixed, I got more lessons in oral hygiene including brush each tooth ten times, brush 4x a day, and use this metal mini bristle to harden your gums. Got the crown back with a temporary fixative and I get to test drive it for a week before the permanent upgrade. I can see the finish line (for one more tooth anyway).

Finally got the diagnosis on the mysterious lymphadenitis. It’s called “Kikuchi Disease”, a non-lethal, self-healing disease which mainly presents in women so no one bothers researching it, and it’s named after the man who “discovered” it.

17 November 2017
Dentist x2: yesterday I went to the specialist to work on root canal 2. They found a mysterious 4th canal. Follow up in a week. Today I went to get the crown perma attached on root canal one, but when they took it out to clean the temp adhesive and prepare for permanence, the tech dropped and shattered the crown, so now we’re starting over with a new temp crown and they’ll remake the crown again for trial next week. I swear this tooth is determined to be a hassle for the whole year. But at this point, it’s so absurd I can only laugh. Third crown is the charm?

dentist-schedule-e1521543814482.jpgI gave up posting dental updates on Facebook after this, but the third crown was a success, and by early December, I was deemed to be complete on the second root canal. Before scheduling the crown, however, I wanted to wait for the pain to fully dissipate and stay gone for at least 6 weeks. Best case scenario, that would be the end of January 2018.

On top of this, I didn’t know where I would be by the end of February and was hesitant to start what could be a month-long procedure if I would have to leave the country before it was finished.

In late February, I did have to move, but only to Gyeongju where I started a new job and spent all my free time in March handling moving, hiring paperwork, and staying legal in Korea paperwork (employment visa, etc).

The Final Crown

2 April 2018
Finally got all my ducks in a row to the point where I feel comfortable committing to several more weeks of dental work to finish this UNBELIEVABLY LONG PROCESS only to find out that the dentist I want to see has the same days off as me.
*headdesk

14 April 2018
Teeeth. I went in for the crown fitting today. Discovered that the mild pain is not related to the root canal, but instead some gum damage and a tiny cavity on the tooth next door. At least it was easy to fix. 10 days to real crown. Is it too much to hope my dental drama is almost over?

15 April 2018
Expletive deleted temporary crown came off and broke in less than 24 hrs. On bread.

16 April 2018
I think I just unintentionally haggled for dental care.

I had to go to a local dentist in Gyeongju to replace the temporary crown, since going without could change the shape of my teeth/jaw alignment enough to make my permanent crown not fit right. They tried to charge me 50$ and when I declined service and prepared to leave, they hurriedly asked if I had insurance, and then reduced the charge to 5$…

25 April 2018
Oh my fucking Christ. I need hugs now.

Although my next appointment was on this day, this post is not actually about the dentist. I went straight from the dentist office to the movie theater to watch Infinity War and the pain of Thanos was far worse than anything my teeth could muster.

2 May 2018
This dentist thing will never end. Some occasional mystery pain in the tooth and they want to wait two more weeks to see if it goes away. She checked everything today and can’t find any reason for there to be any pain. It’s not bad, and it’s very inconsistent, but they expect teeth to not hurt at all after a root canal is complete.

12 May 2018
Dentistry: my preferred dentist was in town today so I was finally able to see her about this last crown. She made some fine tuning adjustments the other dentist missed, and we did the final setting! The whole area is throbbing because as the tech cleaned the extra glue from around the crown it was rough on the gums. However, barring any further craziness. This saga is finally over! From now on I’ll try to get my regular check ups and catch any cavities before they become root canals.

Finally, my extended dental drama is complete. As long as I live in a country with affordable dental care, I’m going to make it a point to go annually for a cavity check. Here in Korea, an X-ray and basic cavity filling will cost me 50-100$ depending on the quality of dentist. It’s still not chump change, but unlike other health issues, cavities never go away on their own, they only turn into more painful and more expensive procedures. I wish that America would make the annual preventative dental care and basic filling affordable for everyone, because then I might not have put off going for 17 years until I was faced with this insane saga.

However sloggingly long and grueling this was, it is nothing compared to what would have faced me in the US where I would inevitably have waited until the pain was too severe to ignore, then been faced with emergency costs and probably lost both teeth, and just as probably been unable to afford implants to replace them. On top of health and hygiene issues, good teeth are a key to good jobs and good living situations since Americans tend to highly discriminate against visibly bad teeth as a sign of “moral failing” the same way they look at body fat. Yet both are more often a result of financially inaccessible health care. My teeth were visually fine, and didn’t actively hurt me, so I simply ignored them for almost 2 decades. Learn from my mistakes and go find a dentist you like.

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The Evolution of an ESL Professor

Whenever I read memes or even articles about teaching jobs I sort of laugh and groan at the same time. I genuinely do not believe there is another career where everything from your day to day duties to your mission statement can change so much from one place of employment to another. I’m also sure that if my blog were more popular, a bunch of people would come out of the woodwork to tell me why their job changes as much or more. It’s not a competition. The point is, at the beginning of my career, I had one set of conceptions about the job of teaching that have continuously been challenged and forced to evolve every time I move to a new country or job. Starting my new job in Gyeongju was no exception.


*Disclaimer* Education is a deep and complex field. People get PhD’s in it. Libraries full of books full of educational theory exist. I’m not trying to encapsulate the total sum of the educator’s experience. I’m sharing my own personal experiences, my progress through this wild career, in the hopes that it is interesting and perhaps sheds a little light into the world of ESL Education and teaching abroad.

In the Beginning

Related imageI started my teaching career at the college level. I did tutoring before that, but it’s not really the same. Tutoring is a kind of gateway after school job for future educators. My very first gigs were at a community college teaching adult night classes in digital photography and Adobe Photoshop. This was so long ago and far away, I can’t even remember the name of the school or the dates of the classes to put it on my CV. It was also before the advent of quality camera phones, automatic everything and Instagram filters, so people actually had to learn the settings on their camera and the basic functions of Photoshop to produce the same quality image that your average phone can produce today.

I wasn’t originally even supposed to do it, but my roommate had accepted too many freelance jobs and needed to foist her classes off on someone else. I mean, I was basically qualified in education and work experience (using Photoshop as a part of my oh so glamorous job at the wedding videographer’s) but it was not a class I applied to teach nor interviewed for, it was one that I ended up doing as a favor.

I had no idea what I was doing as far as instruction, however. Knowing a topic and knowing how to teach that topic are worlds apart. Lucky me, it was adult continuing education and most of the people signed up were hobbyists who wanted to make better vacation photos. I basically showed up and demonstrated photography techniques then answered questions. There was no lesson plan or assessment or anything that I associate with proper teaching these days.

Image result for teaching assistant memeYears later I was a teaching assistant while in grad school. This is a wildly variable position that can mean anything from “teach this class for me because I’m busy with a research project” to “here grade these”. A “real professor” is listed as teaching a particular class, and then assigns a variable amount of work to the graduate student assigned to help.

In this case, the real professor also did all the hard work of lesson planning and designing assessment materials. I got to practice a little classroom management in smaller groups, and I started learning how to follow a rubric while grading.

No-Book, No-Syllabus, No-Fail Class System

Finally, I got my own classes in China. This was a bit like being thrown in the deep end of a trout pool. Initially terrifying, ultimately bewildering, but not actually dangerous. There were sometimes textbooks and sometimes not. There was no kind of departmental organization, no standard rubric or exams.

Image result for failure is not an option memeI was told that should a student fail, it was my responsibility as the teacher to let them take the test again, and if they still failed, to make the test easier and let them try again, and then if they still failed, they would be allowed to pay a fee to pass anyway. It seemed like a horrible waste of my time to fail anyone at that point, so I had a grading curve that gave the worst performing student the lowest possible passing grade.

It was the first time I was responsible for an entire course, from syllabus to final exam. I had to make all the assignments, all the quizzes, all the exams, and all the grading rubrics from scratch. Sometimes I also had to make the course reading materials from scratch too.

Most of the time my lesson plans were fly-by-night because I had no guidance and extremely minimal resources (like, chalk… and maybe occasionally I could get copies made if I was lucky). Mostly we had fun. I had a lot of very driven students and that made it easier because they wanted to learn and practice and ask questions. They were mostly only children from farming families who were under a lot of pressure to succeed in university and then make enough money to lift their families out of poverty. Students were hardly ever absent because their class leader would report them for skipping. Communism, eh?

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Over the course of the school year I got better and better at making plans, and learning how to judge how well an activity would work or how long it would take. I still made a lot of mistakes, but no one was watching except the students and they are by and large a very forgiving group about anything that means less work for them. I didn’t really make any progress on assessment techniques, however since most of my graded assignments were designed to be fail-proof.

Get You Some of That Training

I decided to get some more education before my next job. I tried to get into a program for an actual teaching certificate, but I discovered (despite a major teacher shortage) that WA state (where I lived at the time) would only offer teaching certification education as part of a (very expensive) master’s degree. The Americans reading this already know what a university degree costs, but for the rest of you:

And that’s just undergraduate, aka Bachelor’s degrees. If you want a Master’s in something, well…

But what about financial aid? Loans, grants, scholarships? Oh, that is only good for your first degree at any level. So my existing MA disqualified me from getting any aid at all on an M.Ed. while at the same time Washington State law made it impossible for me to get a teaching certificate without getting that M.Ed. The extra schooling didn’t phase me, but the extra $40,000 for even the shortest 18 month program (not counting cost of living during said 18 months) was just untenable. So, when people ask me if I’m a “real teacher” or a “qualified teacher” and what they mean is, “do you have a certificate to teach in America?”, I get a little cranky.

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Unable to afford a shiny and expensive teaching license, I went off to a local school in Seattle to get my TESOL certification. I took two quarters (WA schools are on a quarter system, 1 quarter is 10 weeks) of part time classes at a total cost just under 2500$ and was able to keep working while I did it. Of course I know it’s not the same. Of course I know that people who were able to get those M.Ed. programs got a much better education in teaching than I did. I’m never going to try to say a TESOL is equal, but it’s better than nothing. I can’t do anything about the financial gate keeping except take what’s left.

Nearly all overseas English instruction jobs require the TESOL or CELTA these days. A quick note to aspiring ESL abroad instructors, – DON’T DO THE ONLINE COURSE.  There are a lot of places offering TESOL online for a fraction of the cost, but most good jobs will not take your online certification. If all you want is a gap year abroad, fine. Take a crappy job that doesn’t need a TESOL at all and have fun working to death. If you actually want a decent job and some good tools to do it with, invest the time and money in a brick and mortar school to do your TESOL, classroom observation, and classroom practice experience hours.

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I got the TESOL because I’d been out of teaching a few years. The change in qualifications was part of it, but I also wanted something on my CV about teaching that was more recent when I started applying for jobs again. There was a lot of the material that was familiar to me from my previous experiences, but it was nice to see it all laid out in a clear way instead of the hodge-podge I’d cobbled together from trial and error. I still use stuff I learned there.

A Kingdom Where Students Are Paid

In Saudi I also taught university students. It was an intensive English certificate program they could do as an add on to their degree program. In reality, it was an adult babysitting service. I only taught women because gender segregation was still mandatory at the time. The women were paid to go to class. How’s that for culture shock?

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Since the women in Saudi can’t appear in pictures, this was our class photo at the end of year party. I am holding the knife and my ladies are posing with me.

They were in class for 5 hours a day with me (with breaks). Their level was very low despite 6 years of English language study prior to our program. Even though there was a better guide as far as materials and exams went, the school’s program was primarily based on an experimental kind of “self evaluation” that involved the students making portfolios of their work to show their progress through the semester, and then being evaluated on that progress with half the grade being from the teacher and half from themselves (with teacher veto power for obviously undeserved 100% grades). Again, I was basically in a no-fail, no-absence kind of program. Being absent meant not getting paid for the day, so it was a rare occurrence. Unlike my Chinese students, these ladies weren’t motivated to succeed by their family or future because as women in Saudi Arabia they reasonably felt that they had no future beyond making babies. (side note, this was before the new crown prince started noticing that women are people, so maybe that will change soon?)

The day was divided into 3 sections: Speaking/Listening, Reading/Writing, and A BS Made Up Title to Cover for Wasted Time. I don’t actually remember what they called it, but it doesn’t matter, it was the arts and crafts /adult day care portion of the day. I had to design creative projects to keep the students busy during this “class” that could show off their English skills to the Dean. The men did things like making videos and other technologically oriented creative uses of language, but girls can’t appear on video plus all our computers were sad and broken (unlike the men who had 21st century classrooms with digital whiteboards). So, we got down to it with poster-board and colored markers the best we could.

I also had to make lesson plans every week, which was a pain in my rear, but very good practice. Making lesson plans is one of those things that feels like it takes twice as long as actually teaching does when you first start, but then once you’ve been doing it for a while you find you can do it in 15 minutes while watching TV. However, they were often useless as things changed from hour to hour at the school, and goals and rubrics would be replaced any time the Dean felt like it.

We had a text book, but the students were not supposed to buy it. If I wanted to use material from the textbook, I had to put it on the overhead projector or print it out. There was too much haram (forbidden) material there for students to have unfettered access. I was not supposed to do more than two printouts a week (that’s 2 printouts per 25 hours of education). I couldn’t use any music, and was very limited in the kinds of images I could use as well. I spent a lot of time inventing activities that would work with just pencil and paper, whiteboard and marker.

I did have to write quizzes; however, tests were entirely supplied by the textbook publisher and were standardized across the school. They hardly mattered since the projects and self-evaluation notebooks accounted for most of the grade. I don’t actually know how many hours I worked because I often spent weekends making class materials and lesson plans. I had no incentive to work quickly because there was nothing for me to DO in my free time there.

Elementary, My Dear

When I came to Korea, I took a job teaching elementary school kids. Whut? I wasn’t even sure I could do it, but I wasn’t alone. There was a really good structure as far as books and materials, but there wasn’t much evaluation going on. Elementary kids in Korea don’t have “exams”, and even when they do take tests, it’s more like a practice thing or a way for the teacher to see if people are absorbing the material. There’s no pressure the way there is for middle and high school students. In a lot of ways, that’s great, especially for young kids. Elementary kids are also rarely absent because the school calls their parents if they are and wants to know why.

I didn’t really do “lesson plans” per se, as the Korean English teacher was primarily responsible for that, and also because the textbooks were broken down into the most insanely easy to follow blocks (2 pages per class, every class; CD with videos and activities included; plus stickers and activity cut outs etc in the back of the book… really… great… books.) I did make a lot of games and fun activities because it was my job as the “guest” or “native” teacher to Make English FUN!

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I really wish I’d known more about these kinds of games while I was in Saudi because I think it would have saved me some serious headaches and made the days more interesting. Nothing is really as boring as masses of repetition, fill in the blanks, or black and white worksheets.

I did make worksheets for the elementary kids too, but they were more like puzzles and were only used as “extra” for the kids who finished their regular assignment early, or the kids who wanted to earn some extra points (points were used to get candy, not for a grade).

I also assigned myself some assessment tasks when I realized that things like handwriting and spelling were much harder for the Korean teachers to check quickly and accurately.

Finally, elementary school kids are legally entitled to an education, so no matter how badly they behave in your class you can’t send them out. I’m not saying any of these are bad policies. I think in large part, they are great for kids in that age range. I bring it up, however, to contrast my previous educational experiences with my current job.

Going Pro…fessor

No two teaching jobs from my past have been the same. Even when I was teaching the same subject (ESL), I faced different issues of bureaucracy, cultural expectations and limitations, available materials, support (or hindrance) from other teachers and administration staff, as well as my own personal experience.

One thing they do have in common, however, is that all of my past jobs have been effectively “no-fail” and largely “no-skip”. Everyone shows up and does the work because there are external consequences of not doing so coming from family, government, or someone higher up in the school than me. Most of my past jobs were pretty laissez faire about the whole “teaching” thing. Some required a greater or lesser extent of paperwork from me, but generally nothing that I couldn’t keep track of on a single grade sheet.

Image result for shit just got real memeNow suddenly I find myself in (forgive me China and Saudi, but) a real university.

The paperwork here is a little daunting. There is a digital attendance tracker. Students install an app on their phones and then scan into the classroom when they arrive. I have to double check this, of course, because some smart alecks think they can run in before I get there, swipe their phones and then skive off while being digitally counted as “present”. Despite the fact that I always catch them, some still haven’t figured out how.

There’s another program that tracks the classes and students. I recently had to enter midterm grades on this all Korean website, and navigate adding a make-up class to the online schedule so that it would sync with the digital attendance tracker. Fortunately the office staff here are AH-MAZE-ING. They made little instruction sets with screen shots and step by step instructions. I love them so much.

Image result for teacher paperwork memeI’m also tracking all the grades in some Excel spreadsheets that were designed years ago. I’m not required to do it this way, but since I am required to have the same overall weight for each aspect of assessment (attendance, participation, homework, quizzes, exams) everyone says it really helps with the math, as in, you don’t have to do any. I have a paper version for back up and my own sanity.

I don’t have too much in the way of lesson planning or test making since everyone teaching the same level/using the same book is meant to be on roughly the same schedule and administering the same quizzes/exams. They’ve been teaching this stuff for decades, so the lesson plans and materials are all mostly made, available in Dropbox or Google Drive depending on the Team Leader’s preferences. I still have to check for mistakes or updates, and sometimes I’m a little blown down by what I find, but overall, it’s quite effective.

As the semester goes on, I’m getting faster at all of this, and more confident about making changes for my own needs. I’m actually hoping that next year I can start re-incorporating games into my lessons again. For the time being, I only get to use my fun games in the “extra credit” class I teach once a week in the Language Lab since it has no set book or lessons.

In a stunning move toward self-responsibility, our hours are not tracked. We’re expected to be in class during class time, but all the other various tasks of teaching are entirely up to me where and when I do them. Some days this means I’m in the office until 9pm. Other days I’m out after only a couple hours. Sometimes I’m doing marking in my pajamas with Netflix on in the background. The flexibility is great, but I also realize I never truly *stop* working since students can and will message me at any time.

Most magically, this is probably the best support network I’ve ever had at an educational job. It’s a little bit stunning and now that I’ve had a taste, I never want to work solo again!

Students Are Allowed to Fail

It’s not just the paperwork and administrative tasks that have changed with my new placement. The students, student interactions, and student expectations are wildly divergent from my other schools.

In the past, Korea was a lot more like my experience of China. (I hear they are changing, too, but I haven’t been back in a while) Students worked hard to get good test scores and get into a university, but then pretty much skated through an undergraduate degree afterward. Nowadays in Korea, students still have to work their butts off to get into university, but then they are expected to be self-responsible hard working adults once there.

Related imageMy university has a rule for the English department that only a certain percent of each class can receive an A or B grade. They call it a “curve” but it’s more like a ceiling. No matter how many do well, only the very best 15% will get an A. Another 30% can get a B, and everyone else will get a C or lower. Failure is entirely an option. 

I just can’t seem to get over the fact that I’m allowed to tell a student “tough” in response to some abstract complaint.

I don’t mean real issues. I’ll help a student all day long if they are genuinely trying to learn and are having stuff happen. I was texting one at 11:30 pm the other day because they were really worried they’d have to know the nuanced difference between “intelligent, smart, and clever” for the vocabulary quiz. Even after being told that for quiz purposes they could be used in the same way, they still wanted to understand the actual differences which is really great! I was fine spending my free time on that.

Image result for student excuses memeConversely, I had another student who was upset they were marked absent on the first day of classes (they were absent) and tried to argue with me for 30 minutes about why they shouldn’t be marked absent (because they were in another city) and why they shouldn’t loose points for trying to show me the absentee records on their phone during class instead of doing the work I assigned. That gets no sympathy at all, and eventually I dumped them on the admin staff who told them the same thing I said, only in Korean and in a sterner tone of voice.

Those are two very obvious examples of the opposite ends of the spectrum, but most of my student interactions are much harder to track and I spend a lot of time trying to weigh the effectiveness of my previous teaching styles developed in the no-fail/all-attendance environments when I’m clearly surrounded by students who think they can get away with coming every other class, or halfheartedly doing the homework, or making up terrible excuses for why they didn’t.

Some of these are so far outside my realm of experience, I can only stammer and stare when they happen. I had a student tell me they would miss class (good for telling me in advance) and I responded that they would still be marked absent (unless they had an official note), but could make up the quiz if they came to my office another day during the week, to which they replied, “thank you”. When the next class came around, I asked why he hadn’t come to take the makeup quiz. He told me he didn’t understand my text. How was I even supposed to know that? Now he has a zero.

Image result for headdesk teacher memeI’m still banging my head into my desk over these kids while my team leader (who is a very dedicated teacher and works quite hard and no he isn’t reading this blog, I’m just saying his reply is not born from laziness) is telling me to just say, “tough cookies” and move on.

All my instincts are to ensure that my students do the work in class and succeed. It’s been my responsibility to ensure this for my entire teaching career. I can’t just park myself in the front of class and lecture. I still move all around and talk with students one on one because I know they won’t speak if everyone can hear. I can’t just wait for students to ask me why they got that question wrong, or expect them to read the syllabus or homework, so we spend class time on it.

I think that some of my habits and instincts are good and helpful, but I can also see that some of them are causing me undue stress in this new environment and it’s going to take me a while to figure out what to hold on to and what to set free.

What Does Your Teacher Do?

Although most of my experiences have been as an ESL instructor abroad, I feel like the wild variation in the practical experiences of teachers is true in most fields. So, the next time you hear someone snidely remark, “those who can’t do, teach” think about the teachers in your life, in your kids lives. What do they do? What limitations are they laboring under? How much of what you’re complaining about is even something they control? Why I haven’t you called your local government officials to insist teachers all get paid fair wages for the work they do? How is the job in their school/community/country different and unique? How are they making the world better?

Then buy them some chocolates or something cause this shit is stressful.


Heyo! Still writing about the less travelly aspects of my life these days, but I’m pleased to announce that I am going to Nagoya, Japan over the long holiday weekend ahead (that is Children’s Day aka Golden Week). One of my friends from Busan got a job at a university over there (yay!) and I’ve decided to go and visit, stuff my face with Japanese food, and traipse through as many parks and gardens as possible. It might take me a couple of weeks to write about the trip, but I promise there is travel writing in the very near future.

In the mean time, I’ve taken up macro-photography as a springtime hobby. If you like pictures of really tiny things, you can check out my Instagram for a collection of extreme close-ups of flowers and cute little bugs.

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The Foods of Cherry Blossom Season

20160401_141325The last two years of living in Korea has been cherry blossom heaven. I had amazing experiences at the nation’s biggest cherry blossom festival in Jinhae both years (2016, 2017) and didn’t see the same thing twice. When I announced my move to Gyeongju, the museum without walls, everyone said “oh what a beautiful place! you’re going to love the spring”. And I was. I was excited to love spring until it turned out to be the bipolar spring from hell. It’s late April still vacillating back and forth from  10C with rain 30C with sun. Neither the flowers nor I know what to do.

I was so ready for a couple weeks of stunning cherry blossoms and sunny afternoons by the lake and river, but instead I got about two days (both of which I was working during) and then the rain drove all the blossoms away.

Since I couldn’t attend a cherry blossom festival this spring, I’ve decided to focus on the other bounty of cherry blossom season: the themed food and drink. Bearing in mind I’m not in Seoul where the trendy boutique cafes all live, I decided to try and find as many cherry blossom themed consumables as possible in my small town of Gyeongju.

This is by no means a comprehensive list. Every town has a few local variants, and who knows how many tiny cafes and bakeries were selling their own seasonal specials that I never even encountered. Nonetheless, it should be obvious that cherry blossom season isn’t only a feast for the eyes.

Coffee:

2016-04-15 15.45.30Starbucks Cherry Blossom Frappuccino: This one is available in several countries. It’s a seasonal milkshake style beverage. I like that it wasn’t too sweet. I don’t feel like it tastes especially floral, but it’s pink and festive and fun, so why not?
3 stars

Ediya Cherry Blossom Latte: As a result of the Starbucks trend, every other cafe here offers some variation on the cherry blossom latte/frappe. Ediya is probably the most famous, but I found it to taste like strawberry milk. The iced latte version was thicker than flavored milk, but not all the way to frappe/milkshake status.
1 star

Bliss Blooming Latte: The one coffee shop I really wanted to visit this year and didn’t get to try was the cafe Bliss out by Bomun Lake. They have a latte with a “blooming” blossom. A confectionery of some sort that expands in the coffee. No other branch offers this cherry blossom special. I saw the video online and was instantly captivated. However the lake is rather far away and I never made it out there a second time after learning about it. I’ll put it on the list for next year.
(not rated)

Kanu Spring Blend: This is my go to instant coffee brand, a phrase I never would have believed I could have uttered 5 years ago. I admit, I did try it at first because of the ads, but it’s so much better than most of the other packet coffees in Korea that it soon became a staple at my office desk for emergency pick me ups. I was so excited to see it show up in the seasonal line up, but I haven’t seen it in any of Gyeongju’s shops.
(not rated)

Drinks:

20180325_135358Cherry Blossom Soda: GS25 is a major convenience store brand here in Korea and they also have their own line of drinks and snacks. In the spring, they offer a couple of cans decked out in cherry blossom art. The pink can is a bright pink bubbly soda pop that wins hands down for the most floral flavor. It reminded me of drinking sweetened rose or orange blossom drinks in the middle east. I don’t know if it’s made from real cherry blossoms or if they use a more common flower to get the flavor, but it’s legit. My only complaint was that it was so insanely sweet I had to dilute it. I wanted to mix it with gin, but I haven’t found a local supply since moving here. I tried it with water, but that didn’t work well. Finally, I mixed it with milk, Italian soda style, and that was delicious.
4 stars

20180423_200958.jpgCherry Blossom Grape Juice: The green can was actually my favorite drink of the season. Instead of a soda, it’s green grape juice with the same intensely floral flavor as the soda. It doesn’t have the crazy pink dye, or the bubbles. It’s a bit less sweet, and it has some tasty fruit jelly bits in the bottom. It was still strong, but I diluted it with just water and it was perfect. I’m thinking of buying a bunch to stash for the summer.
5 stars

Cherry Blossom Milk: Koreans love flavored milk. Banana is the most popular flavor here, but I’ve seen several others including green grape and apple. While perusing at a local 7-11 I noticed a single serving milk container with pink blossoms on it. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed cherry blossom milk. It wasn’t bad, only mildly too sweet and somewhere between floral and fruity. Worth drinking once, more than once if you love sweet milk.
2 stars

Alcohol:

Hoegaarden Cherry Beer: It’s technically cherry flavored and cherry blossom scented, but it was released seasonally and decorated with pink blossoms. I was expecting it to be similar to a lambic, but it ended up tasting more like a shandy made with cherry-ade. Not too sweet, and certainly not bad.
3 stars

Kirin Sakura Viewing Can: This beer is decorated with the signature unicorn dancing amid the sakura. Kirin is a Japanese beer company and sakura viewing is an important part of spring. The seasonal can is decorated to put you in the mood for spring, but the inside is the same classic Kirin taste. I happen to like Kirin beer, so this wasn’t a big disappointment.
3 stars

Soju: I saw posters around town for soju (the Korean distilled rice wine) that had cherry blossoms on the label, and usually when there’s something on the soju label other than bamboo it signifies flavor, so I was very hopeful when I finally found some. Sadly, it turned out to be regular soju, which I don’t care for as much as the cheongju (like soju, but smoother with less of that nail-polish-remover aftertaste).
1 star

Foods:

20180311_163719.jpgCherry blossom popcorn: GS25 is a chain of local 24 hour convenience stores. The same brand that created my favorite floral soda and juice, as a matter of fact, and they didn’t stop at drinks. Amid the food offerings was a light pink bag of cherry blossom popcorn. This was my first find of the season this year and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. When I opened the bag, I was hit by a powerful and pleasant perfume making it clear that this was not merely pink popcorn, but genuinely floral. It was sweet and tart, with a base coat of kettle corn and a top note of something like Smarties. I didn’t realize at the time, but I suspect it was made with actual cherry blossoms. More later.
4 stars

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Cherry blossom Pepero sticks: By now the world knows Japan’s famous Pocky sticks: crisp shortbread sticks dipped in chocolate and other flavors. When my family lived in Japan in the 80s (yeah… old) the iconic treats weren’t available in the US and I spent years pining for them after we moved back to America. Although Korea has gotten past it’s hatred of all things Japanese enough to import Pocky, they also have their own national brand of the delicious snacks called “Pepero”. There’s even a national holiday for Pepero where all the stores sell huge boxes and decorated gift sets and we all buy and exchange boxes of Pepero. Not Pocky. The Lotte brand of short, double dipped pepero are delicious anyway, but then I spotted this special pink package and had to try it. The first dip was white chocolate and the top coat had the same sweet/tart taste that I’m coming to realize is the ‘authentic’ cherry powder flavor. It was more creamy than sweet, which was refreshing. It’s not going to replace chocolate as my favorite Pepero flavor, but still enjoyable.
3 stars

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Cherry blossom frozen yogurt: Since many coffee shops here are also dessert cafes, it wasn’t only coffee drinks that came in exciting cherry blossom themes. Yogurpresso is a dessert cafe that specializes in, as you can imagine by the name, frozen yogurt and espresso drinks! Unlike American fro-yo, this is quite tart, like actual yogurt instead of ice cream with an identity crisis. The large “blossoms” are crisp meringue and the sprinkles are some kind of candy. It might be one of the preserved cherry blossom additives. I’ve seen them mostly advertised out of Japan. More likely they are random berry flavored sugar bits. However, the little carafe of pink milk down there is the cherry blossom flavor. A tiny pour over to add floral goodness to the sundae. It was tart and refreshing with a variety of flavors and textures to keep it interesting.
4 stars

Cherry blossom pastries & snack cakes:

Once again in a convenience store (they are truly ubiquitous) I found a rack of blossom themed snack cakes. I’m not a huge fan of the packaged pastries here in Korea. Although they are super cheap, they are far inferior to the fresh pastries offered on every other street at the cafe/bakery combos like Tous le Jous and Paris Baguette. I got one bun to try, but it turned out to be strawberry creme. The darker red is red bean (a common bun filling and one I actually quite like), but I prefer my red bean filling with fresh cream. The strawberry was too sweet and there wasn’t anything cherry blossom about it other than the pinkness. The other snack you see here is a variant on the ever present snack cakes. I read this one before grabbing it and it’s also just strawberry and cream cheese. I didn’t bother to buy it after all.
1 star

Festival food:

I didn’t go to any festivals this year, but I decided to throw in my festival food observations from previous years. Every festival in Korea has shaped and colored cotton candy. I’ve seen cartoon charaters, animals, and abstract art created in spun sugar. Cherry blossom festivals of course bring out cherry blossom shaped cotton candy. I didn’t eat any because I figure it’s all cotton candy flavored when we’re talking about festival street carts.
(not rated)

I did eat the cherry blossom fried ice cream at last year’s festival, however. It’s not very pretty, and it’s hard to tell in the paper cup that it is blossom shaped, but you can sort of make out the petals at the top? The best part of this treat is watching them make it. The vendor removes a super frozen blossom of ice cream and dips it in batter before dropping it in boiling oil right before your eyes! When it’s done, the outside is warm and crispy and the inside is cold and creamy. It was vanilla, and I loved it anyway.
4 stars

Honey Butter Cherry Blossom Potato Chips: I was not going to eat this. I saw it early in the season and turned away. This is because when I first arrived in Korea I tried the Honey Butter Chip. I do not know what the obsession with honey butter flavor here is, but you can get WAY too much stuff in honey butter. The problem was it was awful. It was cloyingly sweet and the butter was really potent (maybe because they use French fermented butter?) I was glad to have the experience once, but had no desire to repeat it.

Then I read another blog about Korean snacks and discovered that the limited edition seasonal flavor is actually made with domestic cherry blossoms, harvested from Chilgok County in north Gyeongsang. That’s really close to where I live!Untitled.png

Only 1.4 million bags were released, by the way. That sounds like a lot, but there are more than 51 million people in Korea, soooo I guess we’re sharing. As you can see, the chips are not pink. I’m fine with that since it means no dyes. The smell of cherry blossoms is the first thing that hits you when you open the bag, which is saying something, since potato chips have a fairly strong smell of their own. I tasted a crisp and was pleased to find that the cloying sweetness I’d disliked in my first honey butter experience was dampened significantly by a gentle floral tartness. I became extremely curious at this point. So many of the things I’d tasted had been more tart than floral, and I’d just been assuming it was a matter of artificial flavors, but this was made with real flowers!
4.5 stars

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The Last Word on Cherry Blossom Flavor:

I looked it up, because that’s me. I found that in Japan, there’s an ages old culinary tradition of salt pickling cherry blossoms in plum vinegar. But, Haitai Corp. was very clear about the Korean origin of the flowers they used (equally proud of the French origin of the butter they use, by the way). I broke down and worked on translating the package and ingredients list to try and get more information, but all I could gather was that it’s domestic Korean flowers and not artificial flavors.

My only conclusion is that cherry blossoms are actually tart in taste. This explains why every cherry blossom treat I tried was either a little sour or way too sweet. The flavor has to be treated more like lemon or green plum in contrast to sweeter flowers like jasmine or lavender. Considering how many times I was surprised by sourness, maybe I ate a lot more real cherry blossoms this year than I realized.

Happy spring and happy snacking!

Renting in a Foreign Language

Every job overseas I’ve had so far has provided housing. One of them didn’t technically provide, but did everything besides sign the lease and pay the bills. Despite having lived and worked abroad for several years, I’ve never had to deal with this particular aspect of expat life. Moving to Gyeongju was more than a little nervewracking because I didn’t know anyone here, the school was not going to provide an apartment or even help in finding one, and my apartment in Busan would be unavailable by February 25 (2 days after my last day at that job). Not every adventure is a holiday.


In the US, when I had to look for an apartment, I would go online (or in the old days, open a newspaper) and look at ads, then go visit the apartment manager and view the unit. The one time I moved across the country as an adult, I chickened out and signed up for student housing so I could put off apartment hunting until I was in the same city. How did I get to this point in my life without having this skill?

Image result for apartment hunting meme

I managed to find some online sources for rentals in Korea and was preparing to try to navigate them despite the language barrier, but reviews online revealed that they were just ads for real estate agents and that the listings and photos shown were almost never real. Housing in Korea is usually brokered with a real estate agent, budongsan. Like every other critical service here, they operate during the same hours I was required to be at work in EPIK. Plus, Gyeongju is an hour away from Busan, making a quick afternoon apartment hunt completely impossible.

One of the teachers at the University said her friend who spoke Korean well had volunteered to help me hunt down a place after the staff meeting on Feb 22 (remember, I was getting booted from my existing place on the 25th), and I gratefully accepted, and asked what I could do to prepare because I literally had no idea about the town or about renting apartments in Korea. “No, no, it’s so easy, we’ll just walk into an agent’s office and they’ll find you a place that’s ready to go.”

I did some research anyway.

In Korea, most people rent their apartments jeolsei style by paying for a whole year of rent up front at once. Weirdest part? They get it all back when they move out! I still have no idea how this financial arrangement works for the property owners, but by and large, I think it sheds some light on the crazy world that is “money”. Sadly, I had no idea I was going to have to rent my own place so I hadn’t had time to save up that much. Ironically, I was going to get enough in severance pay and contract bonuses to bring me up to enough, but I wouldn’t get the money in time. Which says more things about how the rich stay rich and the poor loose money, because if you have the money to rent a whole year at once, then you don’t actually have to spend it, you just have to let someone else use it for a year. But if you don’t have that lump sum, you’re stuck actually paying a monthly rent.

Related imageMonthly rent in Korea, or wolsei, is still miles lower than it is in the US, and my salary includes a housing stipend so it’s not actually something to complain about. I am, however, trying to put aside the cash to change to the lump sum system when I renew the lease next year.

If you can’t do jeolsei lump sum, then a large deposit of key money is still required in addition to the monthly rent. The larger the deposit, the smaller your monthly payments, and you get the deposit back at the end (minus damages). That was what I had to do. I read that the key money could range anywhere from 2-5,000 US and I was already worried that the upper range of that could clean me out if I had to pay it before my February payday (which happened to be the same day they were kicking me out).

I tried getting advice about where to live in Gyeongju but as with every Facebook page in the history of Facebook, no two people can agree and at least 60% of the comments will be random, useless, wrong, or cruel. I tried looking at the map to get an idea of where the university was, where the bus routes were and where the good amenities were, but it was really difficult to make sense of the map when I had only been to the bus terminal and university once for the job interview and nowhere else.

Confusion and Disappointment

The day of the staff meeting, I headed out in the afternoon with two other teachers to look for my apartment. First, they went to their own apartments to drop off things and get ready for the march around town. They lived in a more recent development with an elevator and nice view of the river, but as I asked more about what was around them, it turned out to be a whole lot of other apartments. The nearest corner shop was a 5-minute walk and there were no nearby restaurants, cafes or bars. I was trying to be as polite as possible because they clearly liked their neighborhood and thought I would too, but as we walked out looking for the real estate agent, the office of which my guide could not remember the location of, I was getting very disappointed very fast.

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Google Maps

The first agent was super confusing. He wrote down a bunch of numbers and my “translator” had no idea what he was saying. Later we realized it was the price difference between the two types of rental agreement, but at the time I didn’t really feel comfortable about it and his price points were a little high. We wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood as they tried to remember ‘that one really helpful lady”. I never want to sound ungrateful when someone has offered to help, but it seemed to me as though they had no plan whatsoever, but neither had they given me any guidance on what I should plan. Agent after agent, we visited. Some had no one rooms apartments, others had only unfurnished units (which in Korea also means no a/c unit, no refrigerator, and no washing machine).

We finally found someone who had a furnished apartment in my price range and we headed off on foot to take a look. The day was unseasonably warm for February, and I had been walking a lot already. I was so hopeful about the apartment, but by the time I mounted the stairs between the third and fourth floor, I realized there was no way I could do that every day. (yeah, I’m out of shape, but unless there’s a temple or a stunning view at the top, 3 flights of stairs is my limit). On top of that when the agent opened the door to reveal the room it was so tiny I felt claustrophobic. Trying to stay kind and polite yet be firm, I had to reject it.

Finding an Agent

However frustrating it was, it became clear that I had to get really specific with these agents if I didn’t want a top floor shoebox. The list of what I wanted was getting longer with every agent, and predictably, more of them said, no way. Eventually, my guides realized that their neighborhood was really made for families and multi-person housing and that we should go to a different area to find more singles. We called a taxi and while we waited the volunteer apartment finder told me that there were never any taxis on the road in that area but they always showed up quickly when called. As we drove away, I felt intensely grateful that I had escaped that area, bereft of shops, food, and transportation options. It was a lot like the American suburbs, except all apartments and no McMansions.

When we arrived in Seonggeon-dong, I instantly felt better. I could see the plethora of tiny shops, and shops stacked on top of shops that I had become accustomed to in Busan. I knew nothing here would compare to Seomyeon, a bustling shopping, party and medical tourism hub, but it was a solid relief to see that not all of Gyeongju was built on the soccer mom model.

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Google Maps

We asked the driver to stop as soon as we spotted a real estate agent (the green one) and headed in. She was the very answer to my prayers. With the mild exception that she did not speak any English, she was perfect. Kind, attentive, and very good at explaining in Korean in such a way that us poor waygook (foreigners) could understand. I realize in retrospect that there are a lot of waygook in this area. Most are not native English speakers, but they can speak a modicum of Korean, so that makes more sense as to how she got so good at explaining things to non-Koreans.

We rattled off the long list of things I wanted and lowballed the price tag (having had some price issues with every previous agent) and she didn’t look even slightly phased, but instead nodded confidently and opened up her bright pink planner and began flipping pages and texting on her phone. Within a few minutes, she had gotten in touch with a nearby apartment that was fully furnished and on the second floor, close to the bus lines and the university, with internet included in rent, and well within my price range.

Finding a Room

As we walked over, I was pleased to see a wide range of restaurants and cafes. She pointed out the CCTV cameras and the high school at the end of the road. The presence of the all-girls high school meant extra police presence and security cameras so the neighborhood would be safe for me.

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Google Maps

The Facebook group of longer-term Gyeongju expats had advised against this particular neighborhood because it was “too dangerous”, so it was clear to see that word was getting around. As far as I can tell, some Thai folks got drunk and had an argument that ended with knives, but it was personal. Additionally, some of the blue-collar expats were creeping on the white-collar expat ladies. Being American, it takes rather more than this for me to be worried, but it was nice to see that the police were taking the issue seriously and I spotted several bright yellow signs about making it a safe alley, as well as plenty of cameras and even some police call buttons on telephone poles.

The building was small with a hair salon occupying the ground floor. We headed up, hoping that the apartment itself would not be a grand disappointment. Looking inside I was instantly pleased. Perhaps my standards had been lowered by the other places we’d visited, but I felt like the layout of the room, and the provided furniture was ample for my comfort. Although it is a “one room” the kitchen, bathroom, and balcony/laundry room all have doors. The main room had not only a bed but also a desk, dresser, armoire, and bookshelf. The only odd part was that the refrigerator lived in the main room instead of the kitchen. 

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moving day, it will never be this clean again

I was fairly sure I was not going to find anything significantly better, and my guides were starting to lose patience with me. I would not have settled for something that had problems just to wrap up earlier, but I didn’t feel the need to go on searching with the evening coming on.

Legal Paperwork

We headed back to the office to draw up the paperwork. In Korea, it’s standard to pay a 10% deposit on the day the contract is signed and then pay the remainder of the key money on the day of move in, which was going to be a huge help to me since I could then get my February paycheck in the bank before having to pay the large deposit. The agent was kind and patient and helpful the whole way through. Even when mistranslations popped up, she worked at it until we were all on the same page. Then she had myself and the building owner sign three copies of the lease (one for each of the three of us) and I transferred the deposit and her agent’s fee via my mobile app. No sooner were we back out on the street than my guides departed in a rush. I was left with the impression that they had expected this chore to take an hour or so at most and that they somewhat regretted having made the offer of help.

Screenshot_20180225-153443If I had to do this kind of thing again, knowing what I know now, I would have hired one of the professional expat aides. There are bilingual people here who hire out services not only as translators but to find things too. I think I would have been more comfortable discussing my exact needs with someone who was being paid to help me that I had been with someone who volunteered to help. Additionally, she might have been able to have a list of agents and apartments ready for me on the day we met in Gyeongju so there was less aimless wandering involved. Live and learn. This isn’t an ad. It’s the person I wish I’d called. In case you live here and need her, too.

Here to There

The only thing that remained was to get my crap from Busan to Gyeongju, about an hour away. I had not done any packing prior to getting the job offer because I didn’t know if I was going to be moving to a new place in Korea (taking most of my stuff with me) or moving to another country (reducing life to a maximum of 3 suitcases and a carry on). Once I knew I was going to Gyeongju, I thought of the idea of spending a day going back and forth with my 2 existing suitcases until everything was moved, but that would not work for my toaster oven and small shelves. My next choice was to hire a moving company. I knew that one of the other teachers had recently moved from Busan to Gyeongju and asked who she had used. It turned out not to be a company or anything, but just some guy with a van. She called him while we were waiting for the lease to be ready to sign and made arrangements for him to come and collect me and my things that Saturday.

20180223_194036.jpgMoving out of my place in Seomyeon wasn’t too hard. There was a garage so he was able to pull in and be quite near the elevator. We loaded my awkwardly packed boxes (which I had scavenged from the cardboard recycling piles of nearby apartment buildings) and headed off. It strikes me now that the things we take as normal are constantly changing, because I’m reasonably sure that if someone told me I would be in a minivan with a Korean guy I was paying in cash to move me and all my worldly possessions (pictured here) I would have at very least felt that was a sketchy situation, and yet, there I was, half listening to music in one earbud and half conversing with the mover in broken English. Totally normal.

He was a bit flustered that we had to stop off at the agent’s office first, but I had no access to the building yet. I had to make the final payment and get the door codes before we could unload the van. The agent was with another couple at the time we arrived so she offered us tea and we waited in the office while looking at a wall-sized map of the town and discussed the various historical parks. Finally we bustled over to the apartment where I had a rollicking rush of a time trying to get all the information about door codes, gas, electricity, heating, a/c, hot water, and other apartment amenities while trying to haul my boxes and suitcases from the main entryway and up the stairs to my new place. There was no one at all to help me translate that day, and while the driver did speak some English, he took off as soon as the van was empty.

Haphazards of Not Being Fluent

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I noticed at once that there didn’t seem to be any internet. As this was meant to be included in the price of rent, I was understandably concerned. Additionally, I could not seem to get the heater panel to work properly. It was decently warm that day, and I had a heating pad for the bed, but I knew I would need more than that. They tried to tell me that the phone jack was the internet port and I should simply plug my computer into it, and I’m like, no that’s the wrong kind of port. I know that ethernet cables and phone jacks look similar, but they are really not interchangeable. I had to show them an ethernet cable and the port on my computer before they got the point.

The agent wasn’t able to get the internet figured out, but I was told if I needed it urgently I could use the computer in the hair salon… which was… very… kind? But ultimately didn’t solve my desire to get online and stream shows. My phone kept me connected to email and social media, but a girl wants to unwind with some Netflix after a long stressful move. The agent did manage to get the heat on, but then we couldn’t seem to change the temperature at all. The apartment manager was busy and would be for several hours, so I was left on my own until then.

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A bit later, the manager (the owner’s wife I think) came by and tried to call her daughter to translate for us, but her daughter didn’t really speak English either, so things just got more confusing. Eventually, it came down to the fact that they had not installed a router prior to my arrival even though we had agreed on a move-in day, and that it was too late to do anything about it until Monday. I wondered idly if I would have been better off going a block up the road to the nearest mobile shop and buying a wifi egg, but I decided to try and stick it out. She fiddled some with the heater and it became obvious she had no idea how it worked either, and then she left.

I should be clear, I don’t expect the people here to speak English well (ok, maybe I expect my students to, but that’s my job). I know I live in a country where English is not the norm and I am ok with that. I was able to make my issues clear enough with my broken Korean and simply showing the agent and manager the problem. I don’t expect the world to cater to me in English, but I DO expect to have functional heating and other utilities included in my lease (and this one included internet). The language barrier just made that one step further into the absurd and frustrating.

The Internet of Life

Image result for when your internet comes backI did get internet on Monday, sort of. Some dudes showed up and plugged in a router. The whole internet thing works differently in the US than really anywhere else. In the US, cable guys show up and plug the router into a special cable port in the wall and then activate your internet through that, but the router is just a way to route info from the cable port to Ethernet or WiFi. In Saudi, it was literally just a box you plugged into the power outlet only. I could take the router from my office at school home on the weekends and use it to connect to the internet. In my apartment in Busan, it was wired directly into the wall in a very flimsy connection, but there was no port. Here, the router is apparently plugged into that phone jack they wanted me to plug my computer into in the first place. Maybe that’s why it’s crappy internet? I don’t really know.

I spent several hours fighting with it that Monday, however, trying to first set up the WiFi and a WiFi password since I did NOT want everyone in the building all up in my WiFi and the dudes who “installed” (took it out of the box and plugged it into the wall) also had no idea how to do that part. I was using my phone to look up expat blogs about the WiFi router to see if anyone could explain it in English. Finally, I found one, but I ended up having to go through the steps multiple times because the connection was so shabby and the websites kept timing out.

Again, it’s not so much that I expect my Korean router to come with English instructions as it is that I expect the two experts who came into my home to install it would know how to set up the wi-fi and password. That’s set-up guy stuff, right? Otherwise, why are there two of you in my house? I also read the Korean instructions and they did NOT contain the necessary information either. I suspect this is the cheapest company on the market.

Eventually, I got it set up and was all ready to go with my security and passwords and wifi, but then I realized it wasn’t strong enough to stream, which is about 90% of what I do with my computer at home. (I write at the office or in cafes). Thankfully, I purchased a loooong ethernet cable back in Japan when I was living in an apartment that only had wifi in the public rooms, but needed wires for the bedrooms. It’s a little awkward, but it works more often than not and I haven’t felt the need to throw the router out the window since that first day (at least, not more than once or twice).

The Mystery of Ondol Heating

The heater is still a bit of a mystery. I think there are some loose wires and that the reason we couldn’t move the temperature is simply that sometimes you have to push the button 10-20 times before it registers you’re trying to do something. I’ve thought about trying to take this up with the management to see if they’ll replace the panel, but I just haven’t had that much energy. I’m also working on understanding the mode which turns the hot water on without heating the whole room.

In Korea, apartments are heated by hot water in the floor (ondol). If you look that up, you get these great old images of fire heated homes. Related imageHowever, modern Korean homes do not rely on open flames for heating, and instead make the floor warm by means of pipes filled with hot water. The same hot water you use to bathe or wash dishes in. If you want a hot shower, you have to turn on the water heater, but if it’s not winter, you may not want to turn on the floor. Of course, all the buttons are done up in some kind of shorthand, so Translate is no help, and thus I’m back to exploring the wide world of longterm Korean expat blogs to see who was helpful enough to post the meanings.

Why am I not posting the meanings here, you ask? Because I’m less than 40% sure of my interpretation and I just can’t put out information that sketchy. Plus, every place has a different dang way of doing it. I left detailed instructions for the next person in my old apartment because I knew what all those buttons did after 2 years of living there. I still have no idea what the words next to the buttons were saying because of the whole shorthand issue, but at least I knew what they DID.

There are three lights on my new heating panel. I have so far figured out that one of them is everything is hot (floor, water, etc), and that one of them is hot water only, but I still have no idea what the third light is for. It seems to be an “away mode” that is designed to keep pipes from freezing in the winter if you’re gone, but I don’t know how that’s different from doing either of the other 2 modes and just setting the temp at something low. Hopefully, I’ll figure it out before I go on holiday next winter.

Home Sweet Home

However much I miss my floor to ceiling windows and two different places to sit in my last apartment, I am happy beyond reason to have a shower that is capable of both pressure and heat simultaneously and understands that there is a temperature range between scalding and freezing.

There isn’t a security guy downstairs 24/7, but the salon ladies are nice and there’s a code access to the stairwell and garage, so people can’t just wander in. I’ve had a few packages delivered and the postman has no trouble leaving them at my door, safe from the weather and the traffic.

In the meantime, I’ve visited Daiso to get a few extra doodads for the kitchen, I’ve moved the old tube style tv out to the balcony and converted the tv stand to a nightstand. It took a couple of weeks for me to make it all the way through the final boxes, but I have managed to decorate the room with all my little pretties so it feels more like “home” every day.

Have some more spring flowers from campus 🙂 And, as always, thanks for reading ❤

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The No-Travel Blog?

I feel like I’ve been absent from writing for months. I set up a schedule of publication in anticipation of having more new things to write by now and it simply hasn’t manifested. What happens to a travel blogger when they aren’t traveling? No one but the independently wealthy and the corporately sponsored can maintain a year-round travel lifestyle, so chances are, all your favorite travel bloggers have downtime, too. In an effort to keep my story alive, I’m here to look at this question and hopefully figure out how to fill time and pages until the next time I get on a plane.


In 2015 when I headed back to Seattle for 5 months, I tried to write about my life there, but it was so much “go to work, look for work, hang out with friends” that I couldn’t think of anything to say for 3 of those 5 months. Winter makes it even harder since the local adventures that one could otherwise undertake to find writing inspiration are out of reach (especially if you don’t ski).

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2017 presented similar adventure writing challenges. My whole summer holiday was spent amid friends and family, mostly in their homes. I did take photos when we went on outings, but to be honest, I was much more focused on catching up with them than in the scenery. I suppose it’s just possible that the blogosphere would enjoy such personal details, but I doubt my friends and family would appreciate being aired in public. Plus, inside jokes are really hard to narrate. Thus, the summer trip got exactly one blog post, while a typical holiday may have 10-20 stories!

I did take a trip in the fall which is the main new content I’ve been able to publish, but I had no winter holiday at all, just a brief weekend trip. Leaving me to reach back into archives and scramble for even small details to bring to the page.

It’s not just the writing either. Traveling is my hobby and my greatest source of joy. The thrill of planning a trip, reading other blogs on my destination and looking for the best hidden gems while designing the most efficient color-coded itinerary (ok yes that makes me a little weird, but I love it). Then going on the trip and seeing all the things I looked forward to plus finding things I didn’t even know about. Then coming back and sorting through my memories and photos and researching all the things I saw but didn’t know about (still a nerd). Then finally posting my story here. It’s a whole process that keeps me engaged and productive and most of all happy.

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Finding Your Happy

Like a lot of people in the modern world, I struggle with happiness. I spent a long time not having it, and a long time learning how to change that. There’s all kinds of stuff out there about positivity and manifesting, most of which is quite frankly bunk, but it does have a root in real science.

Surely you’ve noticed that when you’re in a good mood, everything seems wonderful. Conversely, when you’re feeling low, even really great things can barely make a dent in the depression. Happy brains focus on the positive without effort. Unhappy brains focus on the negative, often way more than we want them to. Cognitive behavioral therapy and positive psychology are ways to help train your brain to focus on good things more often. As with any other form of training, it takes hours and hours of practice and effort and as soon as you stop, you lose ground.

Like playing the piano or working out, happiness requires daily practice. For me, the anticipation, experience and reflection cycle of travel is my happiness workout routine. 2017 was like a broken ankle in my happiness marathon training. I knew it was a legitimate (non-imaginary) problem, and I tried hard to take it easy and give myself time to deal with the things that were presenting as obstacles, knowing that one day soon it would get better again. Well, now it’s April of 2018 and I’m stretching out those “muscles” for the first time in months and boy are they rusty.

No, It’s Not Out There

When the stress of the job hunt was finally over and spring was on the horizon, I thought, “ok, this is where it gets awesome again!”

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Wrong. Instead of sunny 17 degree weather, I got sleet and ice. Instead of 2 weeks of beautiful blooms and festivals, I got one day of getting lost trying to find a few trees that hadn’t quite gotten there yet, followed by enough rain to destroy them all. 

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Instead of going to see a traditional Korean bullfight (no animals harmed!) and persimmon wine tasting, I’m going back to the dentist because the festival was canceled due to concerns of, I’m not kidding, foot in mouth disease… which I guess is a cow thing. Every external goal that I pinned my happiness on fell through and my emotional resilience took hit after hit as I faded into a potato chip munching Netflix binge-watching funk.

I was relying on the spring warm weather, the cherry blossoms, and the resumption of the Korean festival bonanza to lift me back into mental shape and that was a critical mistake. Happiness doesn’t come from outside. Of course, mindfulness and gratitude practices are easy when the world outside is giving you a lot of beauty to be mindful of and grateful for, but relying on the external for that boost can only last so long.

All The Small Things

Thus sitting in my small room, staring at the gloomy gray skies and listening to the rain that was ruining everything and huddling with my heating pad to fight off the winter that wouldn’t leave, I found myself asking the question, “How can I even write a travel blog if I’m not DOING ANYTHING?”

Which, a few days later I realized is a tremendously silly way of looking at this. I’m doing a helluva lot. I moved to a new city (in Korea), rented a foreign apartment all by myself for the first time, started teaching in a totally new educational environment, started exploring my new neighborhood and meeting new people. Ok, so I haven’t had any “big” adventures, but I’m not in a coma.I didn’t get cherry blossoms, but I tried every cherry blossom themed food I could find. I may not have any sweeping vistas of the mountains without smog or rain, but I’ve been focusing on the small flowers and building a bigger photo journal on Instagram. Sometimes small stuff is where we have to look for joy. The point is, never stop looking. Join me as I reflect on the tiny adventures of daily life in Gyeongju, South Korea. 

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Don’t worry. This isn’t going to permanently turn into a daily life blog. I have a trip planned to Japan in May and I’m going to Europe for the summer holidays so there will be plenty of travel stories coming soon. Until then, try to enjoy this “slice of life” time, and check out the Instagram for my spring flower collection. Thanks for hanging in there with me. ❤

Professor Gallivantrix 2: The Winter Applicant

It’s been both hectic and great getting used to this new job. Learning the ins and outs of my office, my classes, my students, and my new town has taken up a lot of my time, but I’m hoping to have more writing time soon. I’m also hoping to have more adventures to write about now that spring is springing and nature is more welcoming. For the moment, content yourselves with continuing the harrowing tale of my months long hunt and eventual capture of the elusive Korean University Teaching Job. 


Related imageInterviews

It wasn’t until November 17th I got my first positive response, and it was still a soul-crushing nightmare. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Korean universities all want to do face to face interviews… for the first round of shortlisted candidates… during school hours.

This school wanted me to travel 4+ hours to have a 15-minute interview and then travel back. I would miss an entire day of work, including class time, which is just not possible with EPIK. I could arrange to use my PTO to leave the building early (after classes but before “end of work”) or on a desk warming day when there are no classes, but the only reason to miss out on time in front of the students is being in the hospital. Yes, ok, I could possibly fake being sick and head to an interview, but this was the initial round of the application process not a final formality and there was no guarantee that I’d be offered this position, or accept it. How many more interviews would I have to attend during this process? I couldn’t burn my school out either because I still needed the CT and principal to be good references.

I had to turn down the interview. My first “real” interview was a week later when I managed to schedule a phone interview with another school.

12 December 2017

What is with the schools who want me to get on a bus for 4 hours to have an interview on a work day? If your foreign candidate is living in your country, they are probably here on a work visa, which means they’re working… probably as a teacher… which you are hiring for… would you let your teachers take off a day to go interview at another school? no? then WHY do you think we can come to you?

Midway through December, I had to turn down another face to face interview because of scheduling and travel. I had the flu, and even though the university was willing to work with me to change the time so that I could come on a Friday evening (leaving Busan after my last class at 12:30 to get there in time), I felt that pushing through the school day, and a 4 hour bus ride, with a flu that had me barely able to talk and totally unable to stop sipping tea and blowing my nose every 3 minutes was not going to make me a good candidate at the interview.

I managed another phone interview and one more skype interview a few days before Christmas. I was briefly feeling confident that I’d be able to make this happen without having to take time off work or spend tons of time and money bussing across the country.

Christmas Eve Blacklist

Going more than a little crazy, I made myself this promissory list on Facebook to help me through the holidays.

24 December 2017
Plans:

  • Get a good uni job in Korea
  • Get a spring start job elsewhere
  • Leave this apartment by Feb 25th no matter what
  • Move to Penang and keep applying for a uni job with a fall start
  • If no uni job presents itself, take any decent job and get into PhD program earlier than planned
  • online teaching
  • vietnam short term contracts
  • If this whole mess falls apart like crazy, go back to Seattle for a few months and then get into the PhD program
  • Do not falter.
  • Do not accept a job that will make you miserable (at least not until you’re down to airfaire money)
  • Do not give up.
  • Do not go crazy.

I was actually offered a job that day. I thought I’d succeeded in only applying for positions I would actually accept. I mean, there’s no point in applying for a job that obviously doesn’t work for you. I had already limited my search to universities. I rejected ads that had too many teaching hours or questionable lists of extra duties. And I rejected places that were too far out in the boonies because I know that about myself. So when I got this offer, it was like, “Merry Christmas to ME!”

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Then I looked at the contract, and it was not even close to what the ad had said or what was said in the interview. The work hours were all over the map. A teacher could be expected to have a class anywhere from 8am to 9:30pm. The 16 hours “average” was based on a semester total, and overtime was only paid by the semester, so it was possible to work 27 hours in one week and 8 in another but still not get OT. Moreover, I don’t do split schedules anymore. Some people might like that, I do not.  I really don’t trust someone who says, “but in reality, it works this way” when the contract goes on to specify how I’ll be getting screwed in hours and pay.

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My suspicions firmly aroused, I looked up the school on teacher review websites and found that it was one of two universities in Korea to be on the blacklist… with two negative reviews from the most recent school year about exactly the things I was concerned about. It was disappointing, but my experience taught me that it’s better to say no than end up in a job that would make me miserable. I had my back up plans and I had to stick to my guns, so I turned them down.

The New Year

Somewhere in early January, I started getting more into schools in China. I was feeling very hopeless about Korea and discovered that several cities in China have boosted their air quality back to a level I feel comfortable living with, so I expanded my horizons. I’m not going into a lot of detail because this is a post about a job in Korea, but it is still part of the picture that I was hurling resumes out left right and sideways and scheduling phone or skype interviews as often as possible.

During this time, I also caved in and started going to interviews in person. It helped that one finally offered a Saturday option so I didn’t have to miss work, even though I did spend 12 hours traveling for 20 minutes worth of interview. And no, I didn’t get that job either, although they were very kind and reassured me that I was on a very short list of candidates invited to interview and was encouraged to try again in the future…

6 January · Gwangju ·

Trying not to be nervous. Arrived 1 hr 15 min early. Spent 30 min waiting for a taxi. I really don’t want to ruin this cross country journey by being 5 min late because of taxis.

Then a weird thing happened. A school I’d applied for and not even heard a peep from back in November put up another hiring ad. I emailed to be sure it was real and not some scheduled ad they’d paid for and forgotten about and was told yes, the school was doing another round of hiring after all. So I submitted my credentials again. A couple days later I get an email asking me to call them and after verifying I am the person matching the paperwork. Yes, I’m really me.

They politely tell me how sorry they are but the Dean will not approve an interview because they don’t accept “private academy experience”. “I’ve never worked at an academy. What are you talking about?”

After some misunderstandings, we realized the name of the company that hired me to teach in Saudi looks too much like a private English Academy and they disregarded the part where it said the name of the University I worked in over there. If the kind gentleman who received my email asking if the ad was real hadn’t felt bad and wanted to personally apologize, they would never have thought twice and I would never have known why.

I have since updated my resume to showcase the UNIVERSITY part first and the name of the employment company second, but all this stems from the fact that I got hired by a private company to work at a university which has been a thorn in my resume ever since. Getting experience to translate from country standard to country standard is not easy.

All this clarification happened the night before the interviews were scheduled, but it was in a town only one hour away, so I was barely able to squeak in getting to leave early from work to catch the intercity bus and the very last interview of the afternoon. To highlight how ridiculous this permission thing is: my classes finished at 12:20, I asked if I could leave at 12:30, I was told, no you have to wait until 12:40. I have no idea why, but this kind of insane scheduling nonsense was just one more stressful addition to my plight to attend interviews.

Plus, they wanted yet something else for the interview, because everyone wants to make their candidates create unique original content just for them. So I had to make a whole new Powerpoint presentation about my educational style and lesson plans with handouts. The only advantage of having to make slightly different versions of application and interview materials is that over time it does get easier to assemble the custom build from parts you’ve already made before.

Choices! 

While all this was going on, I was offered another position. It wasn’t as blatantly awful as the first but it was less than ideal. It was a few more hours and a less than great schedule, in a large city that I happen to know is too hot, but no clear deal breakers. I could be okay there. Not happy, not miserable, just okay. Which isn’t bad when you’re on a path to level up your career. The hard part was, they needed an answer while I was being invited to this interview at a school I really liked, and one other that was at least close to Busan (allowing me to keep my social life here). Do I take the mediocre and totally palatable bird in the hand or do I let it go and risk losing everything in pursuit of a much better bird?

I turned them down too and went to more interviews instead.

Winter Not-Vacation

The next week was my winter vacation. I didn’t go anywhere at all. Not only because it was a shorter holiday than I usually take, but because not knowing if the end of February would find me hopping off to Penang, moving to my new job in Korea, or moving to my new job in China, I couldn’t justify spending the money on a holiday if I was going to have to spend it on living without a job for 5 months or relocating to my new job site. Instead, I went to more interviews.

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I went to another near Busan, less than an hour away. I discovered there were 8 people interviewing and only 2 open positions. I wondered how common this was. I wondered how many times I would be invited to round one, beating out 100+ paper applications to make it to the top 10 or 8, then not be good enough to be the top 2. I got a rejection text later that same day.

15 January · Busan ·

I hate job hunting. I hate the fact that everyone wants something different but you never know what and are treated like an idiot for asking. I hate investing hours and hours and getting my hopes up only to be told I came in second place, really great candidate but there was just one person better. I hate the emotional rollercoaster of hope and rejection.

Too Much Winning

Then suddenly it happened. I got an email from THE JOB, the one I really wanted, the one I applied for twice, the one that almost didn’t interview me because they misread or I miswrote my CV. It seemed provisional, they said they were recommending me to be hired and had to wait for permission. I was almost sure it was a formality but it seemed so strange. I had one more interview scheduled for the next afternoon and I almost didn’t go, I was so thrilled to be leaving the emotional nightmare of job hunting behind me.

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Instead, I got on the bus and headed up to the next big city down the road. I found the campus easily enough and I had the best interview I think I’ve ever had. I was so relaxed and apparently the hiring committee had had some terrible interviews before me so they were relieved to hear that I had reasonable answers to their questions. We cracked jokes and laughed at each other’s silly comments and they told me about the job and it sounded magical. Like, everything I ever wanted magical. Low teaching hours, no crazy staff meetings, no office hours, no writing classes, huge paid holidays, and it seemed like I really got on with these people.

I went from feeling worthless in despair to having 2 great jobs in front of me. They emailed me the very next day to offer me the position. My emotional switches were all over the map. I couldn’t make up my mind which was better. There were no clear advantages to either place and nothing even close to a deal breaker. It was like I’d arrived at the next level of career and had no idea what to do now that I was there.

*Oh, yeah, and one of those Universities in China offered me a position as well. But with two great options in Korea, moving just didn’t seem appealing. No matter how great a story teaching Political Science courses in Communist China might be.

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In the end, my choice was almost entirely emotional. I spent as long as I could putting off committing to one university and I feel bad that I had to withdraw from one of them because I truly believe I could have been happy at either place. In the end, one of the new hires at the school I chose withdrew at the last minute too. I’m told it happens with regularity because basically everyone is doing what I did: interviewing everywhere and then going with the best offer rather than the first. When I showed up for orientation, I was the only new person at the university I chose because everyone else they had hired had backed out at the last minute.

What did I learn?

Image result for apply to all the jobs memeApply like mad, but weigh your investment. There is something to the idea of applying for jobs even if you don’t meet all the requirements, but in the case of jobs abroad make sure you do meet the visa requirements (set by the government) and there can be some flexibility of the school’s requirements (set by the Dean). However, when employing the scattershot application tactic, be sure to draw the line at applying for jobs that will waste time and energy for too little potential return.

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Don’t be afraid to say “no”. Of course, if you get your dream job on the first try, like my friend who applied to one university in Japan, interviewed and was hired (what is the word when you’re happy and jealous at the same time?), if that happens, there’s no need to say anything but “yes”. In my case though, I got offers that weren’t great and if I had accepted them, I would have missed out.

Practice. Practice. Practice the paperwork and the interviews. The more versions of your cover letter you write, the easier it gets. The more variations of lesson plan you compose, the easier it becomes. The more interviews you do, the more you get used to answering the questions that will be asked. I won’t say it’s never a waste of time, but a lot of these failed applications and interviews helped me get better.

Image result for never give up memeDon’t give up. Cry, eat too much chocolate, put that Will Smith inspirational video about failure on a loop, call your mom in the middle of the night. Do whatever you need to do to push through the horrible feelings of failure. I wrote a 3-page essay on my feelings of failure and posted to Facebook thinking “oh, no one is going to read this” and I got a massive amount of support from people who either do or have felt exactly the same way.

Being in 7th place is ok when there are more than 7 prizes. Okay, 7 is arbitrary, but I have this theory that the reason I got only crappy responses in December and way better offers in January is that all the people who were more qualified or better at interviews got those good jobs in December and were off the market by January, giving those top spots up to me. I feel no shame. My elementary school Korean coworkers were all jealous as hell of my new job, so I know I did good.

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There is no “ultimate guide” to getting a university job in Korea. I read dozens of articles and blogs and listicles and they all have things that can help guide you, but nothing is really definitive. You don’t have to have an MA. You don’t have to be published. You don’t have to know someone who already works there. You probably don’t even really have to be in Korea. I had two offers from places I did phone/skype interviews with. All you have to do is qualify for the visa, apply like mad, and play the game of chicken: keep applying and going to interviews as long as possible because this country is still made of last-minute actions.


I’ve been at my new job for a month now, and so far I’m really happy with it. I know there will be things about this and every job I have in my life that I do not like or that I will complain about. I don’t expect it to be perfect. But I think it’s going to be a good step upward in my quality of life as well as in building my future. Only time will tell. In the meantime, I get to explore a new part of Korea (Gyeongju) and I get to have students who are forming adult thoughts, plus some generous vacation time this summer for more international adventures. Year of the Dog, here I come!

Run Corgi Run GIF by McIdea

©2013-2018 McIdea

 

 

Professor Gallivantrix: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Get a University Job in Korea (Part 1)

The main reason I didn’t take a winter holiday this year is that I was clawing my way up the next rung of the career ladder. During the fall and winter, I read a bunch of articles and blog posts about it while I was aspiring, but it paid off.  The radio silence of the last month has been all about me moving to a new town in Korea and adjusting to my new job. Now that I’ve achieved my goal and had some time to settle in, it’s time to share my story. Like always, this is not a “how to” blog and I’m not going to make a listicle of “things you need to get the job”. I’m going to tell you my experiences and hope that it’s some combination of informative and entertaining that makes writing worthwhile.


Why University?

Twelve class hours a week and 4-5 months of paid holidays a year is a goal worth aspiring to, but it’s not as easy as it was 10-15 years ago. I was recently at an expat comedy club where an amateur funnyman showed off the “resume” he used to get his first uni job back in the day. It was a plain A4 paper with the words “tall” and “white” writ large in crayon. I don’t know if simply looking like an exotic foreigner was ever really enough, but it certainly isn’t now. I worked mainly university jobs before coming to EPIK where I was assigned as an elementary school teacher. However much I may value that experience, I have a lot of reasons for wanting to go back to university teaching, not the least is that primo schedule.

I also like being able to engage with my students about things a little more meaningful than ice cream, Marvel superheroes, and K-pop idols… or at least if we have to talk about those things can we get into the deeper cultural layers? How does it feel to be one of the only countries on earth not colonized by white people when you see Wakanda brought to life? Is there a difference between how you identify or don’t with white, black, Hispanic, Chinese characters since 99% of what’s made in Hollywood will not represent your culture? How do you feel the suicide of Jonghyun will impact idols and fans? Really, anything more than “who’s your favorite?”

Image result for university memeAnd finally, because there is no future in K-12 ESL teaching abroad. Unless you open your own school, there’s an age cap (usually 50-55) and no room for advancement or retirement plans. At university, the age cap is generally higher, and there’s the opportunity to get tenure. Sure, I’m not that old, and I won’t be for a while, but there’s no sense in letting the end of the road creep up on me. It’s not like I feel confident in my ability to fall back on Social Security in the US in my old age, so I better start building something long term out here.

BTW, If you’re looking for info on getting the E-2 visa or getting into EPIK, I wrote about that in a two-part blog called Bureaucrazy part 1 & part 2.

When To Apply

The school year in Korea is from March 1 to February 20 something-eth (varies from school to school). Japan starts in April, but nearly every other country starts in August or September. Most ESL positions start posting ads 3-4 months before they are hiring, and plenty post ads only 3-4 weeks before hiring, but almost none post a year in advance.

I wasn’t actually very sanguine about my odds of getting a uni job in Korea and had been thinking I’d have to switch to a fall start in another country. However, the ads for those jobs wouldn’t even be listed until after my job in Korea was over and done. I had visions of living in a hostel in Malaysia teaching ESL online for 6 months while I searched for a job in the fall semester. I wasn’t worried. I know Korea and Japan are the hardest places to get uni jobs but I had confidence I could find something in Taiwan or maybe even go back to the Middle East.

Then I got back from the Philippines and a friend sent me one ad for a university in Korea that I was qualified for and I was all, “well, it can’t hurt to apply”, and the next thing I knew, I’d purchased a subscription to profsabroad.com and was submitting 1-4 applications every day.

The Hunt and Fret

I decided a while ago that I would pay for profsabroad because I remember the extreme hassle of going to 5-7 different job sites every day and sorting through the million and a half ads for kindergarten teachers looking for that one gem of a university listing. I don’t know why Dave’s ESL and all the others can’t just create a search filter for schools by type and by age (private, public, kindie, uni, ect), but man it was worth 10$ a month to not have to scour the far corners of the internet for what I wanted.

Once I got all signed up and had my university only ad feed going,  I began to read the ads. This is depressing as hell. I’m not qualified for a lot of them and might never be. There was a lot of “I’m a fraud.”, “I’m not good enough”, “I’ve wasted my whole life not doing my professional development correctly.”, and “I’m going to die alone in a gutter.” during this process. I have very supportive friends who prevented me from drowning in despair.

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Overcoming my personal anxiety of self-worth was a daily struggle that didn’t end until I got hired. But even the jobs I felt qualified for still had an amazing array of hurdles to jump through. One of the first things I realized I needed to do was make a USB with all possible application materials on it so that I could attach any document quickly to an application email.

7 November 2017 ·

I feel like every time I go on the job hunt, there is some new insane obstacle. This year, it appears to be that I must not only have 20 pieces of documentation to submit each time, but I must have them in multiple formats because SOME places only accept .doc, or .pdf, or .jpg because they don’t know how computers work. One place wanted me to combine all 12-15 pieces into a single PDF file. Excuse me while I spend the day making triplicate copies of everything in every major file format for you. HIRE ME!

Gathering The Materials

  • Cover Letter
  • CV/resume
  • professional photo
  • copies of all degrees
  • copies of transcripts from all degree-granting institutions
  • copies of my criminal background check
  • copies of proof of employment letters
  • copies of letters of recommendation
  • copy of my passport
  • copy of my alien registration card
  • copy of my TESOL certificate
  • sample lesson plan
  • statement of teaching philosophy

All of these in docx, jpg, and pdf format. And just because you spend hours perfecting all of these does not mean you are finished, only that you have a solid foundation from which to start.

Cover Letter

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I have a basic cover letter file that I edit for every job application to make it as personalized to the job as possible. Making sure to cover all the things they mention in the ad and maybe even something I know about their school or city as well to show I’m invested. No one likes form letters, but realistically I can’t start from scratch every time either. This is my compromise.

Resume/CV

I spent days crafting my CV. I keep it up to date and make sure the formatting is sharp. But it often feels like it doesn’t matter at all because even though they ask for your CV, they then ask you to download and fill out (or fill out online) an elaborate 14-page application. Okay, 14 might be a slight hyperbole, but not always. Usually you can’t copy/paste because you have to fill in one box at a time or worse use drop-down menus.

notawolf-e1521531831748.jpgIt can take several hours to complete one of these even if all you are doing is entering information from your existing documents. After a few dozen, it starts to feel like one of the labors of Hercules, or possibly one of those epic Greek punishments that people like Sisyphus are receiving. More than once I abandoned a job entirely because the application form was broken or because it simply wouldn’t allow me to enter real information, or because halfway through I discovered it required me to write a 5-page essay or upload a video of myself. I reassure myself by saying I probably wouldn’t have been happy working for an employer this demanding anyway… but it might be sour grapes.

6 November 2017 · Busan

NaNoWriMo? Try NaResSubMo: national resume submission month, I’m gonna reach my word count in information repeatedly entered into online forms because the schools won’t read a resume unless it’s been dissected and reentered into a million and one picky form boxes. Finally gave up on one after 45 minutes because they would only accept a copy of my transcript in jpg format.

Video Resume

I’m going to make a video one day… probably at this next job. A lot of employers love the idea of watching you teach on camera. They can see you at work! For real! Like that isn’t much more about your ability to stage a performance than your ability to teach… but, it looks good. I couldn’t make a video in Saudi Arabia because I could not film my female students. I couldn’t make a video here at my elementary school job because of protecting children from online exposure. So, hopefully, at some point in this new job, I can set a camera up and get some footage to use the next time I have to go through this ungodly process. Obviously, the lack of video didn’t stop me, but everyone is always looking for that edge up.

Professional Photo

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The photo is the other major factor in employment in Korea. Looks are oh so very important here. Can you get hired if you’re not pretty? Yes. I’ve seen plenty of people with great jobs who are not on the Korean scale of conventional beauty. Pretty sure I’m not on the scale of conventional Korean beauty. Oh, they love my skin, but I’m roughly the size of 2 Korean models (I mean, they are *really* skinny, but still). 

I have some previous professional experience as a portrait photographer, so I did my own, but it’s important to have a nice photo. I picked out a green shell top and gray cardigan. I did my hair, got that straight iron out, framed my face in a way that it never stays 4 seconds after I leave the house. I put on makeup in the Korean style, pinks for eyes and lips, eyeliner only on the outside emphasizing eye size, and of course BB cream. I stepped out on my balcony for natural lighting and used my silver blackout curtains as a backdrop. Then I took 1000 selfies.

When I finally got a few that didn’t suck, I took them into photoshop and made them glamour shots, removing all imperfections in the skin, correcting all the color tones (including that blue in my hair, who needs that?), and cropping and framing as appealingly as possible. How you clean up may not be how you’re expected to show up for work every day, but it seems to be an important hallmark of professionalism here.

Even after spending most of a day dressing up and posing and editing my one perfect application photo, it still wasn’t enough. One place demanded the photo be “full body”, which I guess was to weed out fat people? I was too tired to go through the process again and ended up sending a photo of me at some famous Korean landmark. I never did hear back from that school.

Letters of Recommendation

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These are fairly standard in the US, although for some reason no one told me as a young adult to always get one every single time I ever left a job or a school. It was a scramble to get letters when I was applying for EPIK and I was pondering the process of asking my supervisor here for a letter when the decision was made for me, and one of the jobs I wanted (like actually wanted not just would apply for anyway) required a letter of recommendation from my current Korean employer.

Just one problem: Koreans don’t use the letter of recommendation format ever. They have another thing called an Employment Verification Letter. So I had to explain to my co-teacher/supervisor what it was and why I needed it and she nearly had a panic attack because she’d never heard of anything like it ever before. After a few days of calling everyone in the chain of command, it was finally determined that it was not illegal for her to write me a letter (yes, she thought it actually might be) and that *shock* she didn’t actually have to write it herself (for those of you unfamiliar with this charade, usually the person asking for a letter will actually write it and the person doing the recommendation will look it over and sign it, so authentic! What a great system!).

I was given strict parameters that the letter could only contain “objective facts”, no opinions (so, they still didn’t really understand what a letter of recommendation is for?) but I managed to overcome and got my letter signed by my co-teacher and also stamped with the official red stamp of the school (which is a pretty big deal). It turns out the job I took doesn’t need this, but at least I have it in my ever growing pile of official job hunting documents.

Letters of Employment Verification are the standard here (and possibly a growing standard for other countries). The horror about it in Korea is that every job wants an ORIGINAL letter, meaning they somehow expect you to go back to an employer from years ago and ask for this letter again and again? I know in Korea, there’s a standard form, so yes you can just submit a form request to your former employer here and get that, but my former employers are in China and Saudi Arabia… it’s not that easy. I managed to get one letter from the school in China back in 2015 when I was applying for EPIK, but now they have the original and I’m never getting that back. I only have a digital copy. Meanwhile, the school in Saudi refused to send anything but a digital copy.

Fortunately, it seems like the universities are a shade more flexible about getting copies from non-Korean sources. I was told by the one who hired me that while they “would prefer” an original, they will take a digital copy if that’s all I have.

Plus, I went to file for one of these from my current Korean employer and it was made out from the date of hire to the date of letter request, so it’s useless… and I had to wait until my contract was OVER to ask again so that it has the right dates. Which was thrilling because my new contract started only a few days after my old one ended and there was plenty of overlap in the new job wanting me to provide paperwork before my start date. In the end, it’s still not a deal breaker because at least I’m dealing with two Korean institutions and they expect things to be done in the Korean way.

Answering Ads

Most of the ads I read, I didn’t qualify for. The craziest of these was the school who wanted a teacher with a Ph.D. AND 10+ years of experience teaching university AND not be over 40 years old. As far as I can tell, that means someone who graduated from high school knowing they wanted to be a university teacher in Japan and going immediately into TESOL courses with no time off or time spent exploring any other career or even time spent working at any other educational institution than another university. That is some kind of unicorn.

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Of the ads I qualified for, I still couldn’t apply to all of them because some just had hoops that were too absurd for me. It is technically free to apply, and I know all the adages about trying and what do you have to lose, but there is legit a point where what you have to lose is 5 hours of your life and 5% of your sanity for a 0.0005% chance of a job and it’s just not worth it.

Fortunately, there were plenty of ads I did qualify for and was willing to jump the hoops of. I sent hundreds of applications. I spent an average of 10 hours a week on this, possibly more, from mid-October till after Christmas. It consumed my free time. It consumed my thoughts. It was the all-singing, all-dancing stress of the universe.

A few places had the decency to send emails that they received my application, most of them just vanished into the void.

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To avoid overwhelming you with a novel-sized blog post, I’ve decided to insert a non-commercial break. Stay tuned for the second installment where our heroine finally receives signs of interest from potential employers, must make hard choices about job offers, and finally reveals her hard-earned life lessons to you, the faithful reader.

 

Hello Bohol: Waterfalls

On my last full day of vacation, everything on my Bohol checklist was done, but I was fighting for peace of mind after days of discord in what would turn out to be my shattered friendship. I will not air that laundry here, but it remains one of the hardest losses I’ve sustained in years. Seeking resilience and restoration that day, I turned toward the siren sounds of waterfalls. I adore waterfalls. Not only are they beautiful and fun if you can swim in them, but they also create negative ions. Any kind of massive moving water can do this, like pounding ocean surf or heavy rainstorms, even your shower. Studies started back in the early 2000s on the effects of negative ions on mood showed some promising results that walking on the beach when the waves are going, or visiting a waterfall can give you a major mood boost. Plus, they’re flippin’ gorgeous!


Mas Ago

20171007_095054.jpgMas Ago Falls is possibly the “most famous” of the Bohol waterfalls. I don’t mean to imply that it is famous, simply that of the dozens or more that dot the island, this one is better known and more often visited by tourists than any other. The drive time was a bit more than an hour, and there was a small fee to park my motorcycle and another small fee to enter the “park”. The parking attendant didn’t have any change so simply let me drive by and asked me to pay him as I left since the admittance fee collector would likely have change for me. She did, and also offered to hold my helmet in her office while I went down.

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I started down a long series of steep stairs. The falls and the river are at the bottom of a gorge. I could hear the falls long before I could see them. The stairs were wide, sturdy and well maintained, so I felt quite safe. My favorite waterfall near Seattle, Murhut Falls, was the other way around, and many others I’ve visited have been as well: a climb to reach, and an easier descent back to the parking lot. I knew as I descended that I would pay for the privilege of waterfall hunting with the uphill return later.

When I arrived at the bottom, it was clear that there had been some changes in the path. One branch led to a viewing platform where visitors could get a nice photo. Broken stairs led from the viewing area to the water, most likely destroyed in the earthquake. The stairs that now lead to the water were “blocked off” by a small stick, which I ducked under and proceeded onward. I felt emboldened to do this because there were already people at the river. There had been a heavy storm the night before, and there were what I presume to be park employees sweeping debris from the rocks to pretty up the area. There was also a father and son who had come down to the river for an early morning wash. It was quickly evident that none of them had been expecting a tourist so early in the morning.

The other effect of the previous night’s storm was that the falls were engorged. Photos I saw online showed two thinner streams  of water coming down the 8m drop into a turquoise pool below. The day I arrived, it was one very large waterfall moving massive amounts of water dangerously fast. The pool was far more peridot than turquoise, but the water was churning roughly and there were branches of fallen trees visible as well. I know better than to risk a river moving that fast, and as I stared at the water coming to terms with the fact that I would not be able to swim, one of the men sweeping asked me just that, “do you want to go swimming?”

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Of course I did, but the water looked too dangerous, I replied. He showed me a spot further down the river, behind some large rocks where there were pools that were sheltered from the worst of the current and indicated they would be safe. In addition to the rocks, I noticed that part of a concrete staircase had fallen into the river here as well. I found some older pictures of the area online where the pool and river are clear, so I can only guess that the boulders and stairs now cluttering up the river were a result of the quake that affected so much of the region. Given the remote location of the falls and the size of the rocks, I doubt they’ll be cleared away, however they provided a nice shelter from the strong current, and in calmer times would be a great way to get out into the middle of the river for photo-ops.

I doffed my pants but kept the shoulder and back covering I’d worn over my swimsuit. It wasn’t modesty, but a desire to keep the sun away. I settled into a little pool between some rocks and enjoyed the blissfully cool water. The rocks are quite slippery, yet the native Filipinos had no trouble at all bouncing around from rock to rock as though they had the best traction available. I was only somewhat mollified when some of the passing tourists later also had trouble with the slippery rocks (no one was hurt, only dignity).

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Before long, the sweepers finished and left, then the father and son departed as well, leaving me alone with the waterfall. I was having a little difficulty because I couldn’t get to a spot where I could sit in the water and see the falls at the same time, and so took to moving back and forth between sitting atop a large river rock and watching, and sitting beside that same rock and cooling my sunburn in the water. A few tourists came down the steps, but most just took a few pictures and headed back up. One couple did come down to the part of the river I was at, just to wet their toes, and these were the ones who slipped, as I had, on the rocks. I was less worried about keeping my clothes clean, however, and just resorted to scooting.

The most interesting visit of the morning was when a group of university students from the local college of tourism came down to ask me if they could do a video interview of me for a class project. As a teacher, I am morally obligated to help out with student projects whenever I can, plus they seemed nice, so I agreed and they came carefully down to the slippery rocks so they could film me there in the water, and I answered some questions about where I was from and how I was enjoying Bohol.

Despite a few tourists and students, most of my time at Mas Ago was spent in solitude. It was quiet and refreshing. After a couple hours, the negative ions and natural beauty started working on my mood and I began to feel that addictive surge of wonder and gratitude that I’ve come to associate with exploring the world.

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When I left, I discovered everyone had gone for lunch. The main fee collection booth was empty and locked, although she had left my helmet on my bike, and when I tried to stop at the parking attendant’s booth to pay the fee I’d missed on the way in, he was gone too, and the barrier blocking traffic was propped up. It seems that while the tourist industry does want to collect their fees when possible, they aren’t too bent out of shape about people wandering in on breaks.

Google Inspired Adventures

My waterfall itch wasn’t quite satisfied, as I’d been unable to do much swimming, and had to keep my distance from the raging falls for safety. I pulled up my trusty Google oracle and searched the area simply for “falls” to see what would come up. Sure enough, the map showed two such designations within 30 minutes of my current location.

People gripe about millennials being attached to phones, and although I’m not actually millennial,  I am attached to my phone. I bring it everywhere, I make sure to get a data plan and have a back up battery at all times. And yes, I like posting cool photos on Instagram or sharing updates on Facebook, but the real reason my phone is a critical accessory in world travel is that it is the ultimate guide book. I can look for attractions, find directions, translate labels or signs, and sometimes find hidden gems that I would never have even known to ask about. So, please, don’t judge people who are tethered to the device until you know what they’re using it for, because the next adventure would not have happened at all without my phone and my Google.

Malingin Falls

20171007_133201.jpgAfter checking the routes, it seemed that even though it was farther as the crow flies, that it was closer as the motorcycle drives and so I headed over to this less well known waterfall site. After driving for a bit on well maintained roads, Google Maps directed me to turn down a dirt side road. I wasn’t especially bothered by this, since several places I’d visited during the last week were down this kind of side road. There was a sign at the intersection for the waterfalls. Although it was a very temporary kind of sign made of hanging vinyl, at least it told me I was headed the right way. As I continued down the road, the gravel and dirt gave way to mud and grass. I passed some bewildered locals and asked querulously if I was heading the right way to the falls. They indicated I was, so I kept on going.

Maybe I should have parked and walked a good bit earlier, but it was hot, and I was reasonably confident in my ability to keep driving as the road became more narrow. Once or twice I hit a mud puddle and slid around a bit, but I was going slow and making progress … until I wasn’t. I managed to drive right into a deep and long patch of mud that claimed the bikes tires and stopped me flat. Putting my feet down, I sank in the mud past my ankles, and I worked hard to get the bike unstuck, only running into the bushes once in the process. In retrospect, it might have been less work to walk the longer distance than to fight with the mud, but it wouldn’t have been as cool a story, and one of my favorite lifestyle adages is to live your life for the stories it creates.

I was finally forced to abandon the bike by the side of the path. I can’t call it a road anymore. I suspect that in drier times it would be easy to drive all the way to the stairs, but the previous night’s rainstorms made the road simply too slippery to drive past a point. I was a little worried about leaving my rental out in what felt like the middle of nowhere, but it seemed like the rural folk were a good deal more honest and trustworthy than city folk are rumored to be, and I had a reasonable expectation it would remain unmolested while I was away. I only walked a short distance before I began to hear the rushing of water that told me I was getting close, and in just a few more minutes, I crested a ridge that opened onto a little green river valley and a beautiful waterfall and swimming hole, complete with local swimmers.

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There was another staircase down the ridge, but as it was also covered in slippery mud, I took off my mud covered sandals and proceeded down slowly, clinging to the railing, and where the railing was gone, sitting down and scooting once more. I can only imagine the ridiculous image I presented to the locals (who have no trouble at all navigating these slippery steps in flip flops) covered in mud from my struggles on the path, carrying my backpack and helmet and treating the steps like a dangerous mountainside. I made it to the field and began the trek through yet more mud, slipping and falling at least once when I took an incautiously large step. I began to wonder if all those pumice stone scrubbings I do to keep my feet soft were actually a bad idea because it seemed that every place I put my feet they tried to slide out from under me, but I did eventually make it all the way to the water’s edge where I was greeted with some amusement and much courtesy by the families already there.

I didn’t bother to change. Swimming clothed is common in most parts of Asia and the Philippines is no exception. Besides, my clothes were so muddy I’d be getting cleaner by swimming in them.

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This was easily my favorite waterfall experience of the day. Although it was also the most challenging, I think in some ways that made it more valuable. The river and fields were just amazing. Talk about your basic Garden of Eden unspoiled natural environment! Although there were man-made additions, I thought they added to the experience. There was a kind of concrete mini-dam that formed a pool at the top of the falls and also a safety barrier to keep anyone from getting pulled over by the current (and a footbridge across). There were also some little huts to put belongings and enjoy picnics at while hiding from the sun. The main swimming area was well shaded under an enormous tree.

I was a bit worried about having awkward social encounters, but the people there were lovely. One woman admitted she was quite surprised to see me (although reassuring me I was very welcome) and asked how I had managed to find the place at all. Two teenagers who I think were siblings introduced themselves and chatted with me. The girl was excited when she found out I lived in Korea because she loves K-pop. The families enjoyed themselves taking photos of each other (and some selfies with me), jumping from the top of the falls to the pool below, running up and down the slopes and generally splashing it up.

My favorite thing to do was to rest against the barrier at the falls and let the water rush past me as I looked downriver at the beautiful jungle scenery.

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Eventually, the families started packing up, and although at first I thought I might stay longer, a group of young men showed up with a bunch of beer. It may have been no threat at all, but I’m afraid my life experiences simply don’t allow me to feel safe as the only woman in a group of men with alcohol in the middle of the woods… yeah, there’s no way not to make that sound like the beginning of a horror movie. I think if anyone else was staying I wouldn’t have been driven off by the young men, but I’d had such a pleasant experience so far, I didn’t want to risk it becoming uncomfortable, or dangerous, so I decided to leave as well.

Solo Female Traveling Safety

I do want to point out that I did not feel unsafe anywhere in Bohol. The worst thing that happened was a guy who came over to talk to us in the ocean the one time we were out after dark, and he was totally friendly. It’s so hard to judge men’s intentions when I’m traveling as a female alone (or with only another female companion). Many folks around the world ask about things like age and marriage by way of friendly conversation and I’ve had lots of women ask me these questions, no problem. Unfortunately, when men ask, I can’t be sure if they just want to chat or if they are scoping me out for anything from easy sex to potential wife. And I’ve encountered the whole range. Some men I’ve met have been lovely to talk with and I’m happy to keep in touch after we part ways. Others made me wonder if it was worth calling the police over. But the vast majority are in a gray middle ground of making me feel vaguely uncomfortable without doing anything overtly “wrong”.

With the “me too” campaign underway, it’s hard not to think about my negative experiences at the hands of men in the US and around the world: taxi drivers who’ve tried to cop a feel or propose marriage in the Middle East. A well meaning festival goer in Japan who insisted my life was unfulfilled without a husband, who insisted on taking my hand in the crowd, and who is still sending me messages 2 years later even after being told “thanks but no thanks” as politely as I can. And I don’t even want to get into anything worse, but yeah, it’s there. I’m sad and angry that I have to live my life assuming that a man is a predator until proven otherwise, but if you as a man are upset that women are treating you like a threat, don’t get mad at us, get mad at all the men who creep, harass, and assault, leaving us with no choice but to live on the defense.

Filipino men may all be perfect gentlemen, I don’t know, but I do know it’s not worth taking the chance. So, I wrung out my clothes and gathered my things and followed the teenagers up the steps.

Stuck in the Mud

I had almost as much trouble going up as coming down, and one older gentleman paused to give me a hand. In this case, my nervousness at taking his hand was that he was not braced on anything and I was sure that adding my weight to his would cause us both to slip down the concrete sairs and split our skulls open, but he stood firmly and confidently and helped me up the steepest parts until I could reach the railing and manage on my own. I am sure they’re hiding super feet, either suckers or tiny hooks… I honestly have no idea how everyone was so sure footed on the mud and algae covered rocks and stairs. Island magic.

I got back to my bike, which was right where I left it, and bid the kids farewell as I began to ride back up the trail. When I encountered the mud patches on the way back, I got off the bike and walked it around, my shoes dangling from the handlebars to keep them mud free. This worked fairly well for the first two or three puddles, but soon I came upon a huge low place in the road. Somehow I’d ridden through it on my way in, but looking at it on the way out it seemed like an impassable lake. To drive home the metaphor, I spotted a water buffalo up to it’s shoulders just next to the road. I tried two times to progress and was forced backward each time after only a step or two.

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While I stood at the edge of the watery road debating the best path through the mud and marsh, the teenagers who were on foot caught up with me (more evidence I should have just left the bike back at the first mud puddle  on the way in). They quickly realized my conundrum and politely refrained from telling me how silly I’d been to drive in this far with the roads in this condition (literally everyone else I’d seen that afternoon was on foot, although I had seen a few more bikes parked on the path). The young man graciously began to poke around the mud for the shallowest path through, guiding me and my bike wide around the road up into the grass, through the trees, and eventually back down on the other side of the huge morass. I suppose I would have gotten through eventually, but who knows how long it would have taken or how many more times I would have been stuck.

20171007_142554.jpgI was humbled by the absolute unselfish behavior of these teens. They were kind and patient, and generally the type of teenagers no one thinks exist anywhere in the world (love Facebook, K-pop, and their phones, but are kind and helpful to each other and strangers?). I hope that their lives are as good as they are.

I bid them farewell when they reached their homes, and I made it back to the main road without further incident. I was covered in mud to the knees again. I didn’t want to put on my shoes and I didn’t want to drive far barefoot, so I drove just far enough until I saw a little roadside convenience stand.

I couldn’t find anyone, but it seemed that the cashier window was open (or at least not boarded up), so I called out to see if someone was around. The building itself was attached to more domestic looking structures and hanging laundry was also visible. Eventually, some small children noticed me and one girl came over to sell me a packet of cookies and a large bottle of water. They were a bit flustered at having to make change (I was always running out of small coins), but managed it in the end and I sat down on the bench out front to clean up and have my snack. The mud hadn’t had time to dry yet, so rinsing my feet was easy enough, and once they were mud-free I was able to put my shoes back on and do some more serious driving.

Kawasan Falls

The third waterfall was another 20 or so minutes away according to Google, and I wasn’t sure I was up for another slog through the mud, no matter how wonderful the prize at the end. I debated for a while and decided to head over anyway, promising myself that if the road was too muddy, I would turn back. (the lies we tell ourselves)

I followed the directions along the main roads, finally finding the side road in question. There was another sign indicating that this was the way to Kawasan Falls. The side road was under construction, perhaps someone in the tourism industry realized that muddy dirt roads are a solid deterrent to the average tourist. I was somewhat encouraged at the easier drive, although the road workers laughed a bit as I passed by, they assured me that I was on the right road to the falls. I guess that solo motorbiking foreign women are not a common sight on Bohol.

Eventually, the construction ran out, and the road returned to it’s former dirt and gravel state, however places that would have otherwise been mud pits had been filled in with more gravel, making the overall drive much less sticky. It was still a bumpy, uneven, rocky road, but the mud puddles were avoidable and I was able to press on without having to turn back from obstacles. There was a bit of a lawn at the end of the road that was being used as a parking lot and a park attendant sitting next to the path through the trees. Once I was parked, he led me through a little trail to a haphazard entrance pavillion where a young lady collected the small entry fee. The man continued to lead me down the path, although it was the only one and there was no way I could have gotten lost.

We passed some small feeder falls, and a series of elevated huts which I assume could be rented out for a day to have your family gathering and picnic at with a great view of the falls and the downstream river. It was obvious that this site was gunning to become a bigger attraction. There were plenty of locals already there enjoying the day. Once we were in sight of the falls, the guide released me on my own recognizance. It was easily the most crowded place I’d visited that day. I’m not sure if it was the time of day or if because this location had easier access it was just more popular.

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I waved hello to a bench full of locals who were tickled pink to see me there. I found a tree to dump my bag, shoes and helmet at and set about trying to figure out how to get out to the swimming area. Again, I observed that all the Filipinos have magical feet. As I was moving out toward where some kids were swimming one of the little girls stopped me with a warning about how slippery the rocks were, and I headed off disaster or at least embarrassment. While trying to get out another way, I got approached for some more ‘selfies with the tourist’. Sometimes I wonder if I look like someone famous. I don’t think my appearance is especially remarkable, and yet it seems to give people joy to take pictures with me. I don’t get it, but it’s harmless as far as I know, and doesn’t cost me anything to make someone else happy, so I do it. I hesitate to imagine how many random group photos I’m in from around the world.

Of the three falls I saw that day, although Malingin was my favorite overall experience, there is no contest that Kawasan was the most stunning visually. (Not to be confused with Kawasan over in Cebu which is super famous and crowded with tourists from what I hear). It was much taller than the other two, and of course because of the previous night’s rains it was pouring a magnificent amount of water. Despite the torrent, a group of young men had climbed up the rock-face (no stairs, no handholds, just magic feet) and were sitting behind the falls. Lots of kids and moms with little ones were in the shallower pools, and a few more emboldened swimmers were out in the deep pool directly beneath the falls.

I am a confident swimmer, so I was happy to get right up close. I ended up perching against some large rocks in the pool to rest and just take in the scenery. It was the pinnacle of what I had hoped for when I set out to swim under a fall that day, since I was submerged in the cool water only a few meters from the downpour, the strength of the wind created by the falling water blowing the wonderful clean smell (and negative ions) over me while I gazed upward to the sun-sparkled peak where the water leapt over the edge like liquid diamonds.

After a little while of pure “oh my god, this is my life” feelings, I noticed that the young men up on the sheer rockface were standing up and preparing to jump. I have nothing against jumping into water. I like diving. I may be overly paranoid about jumping into water I’m unfamiliar with, but I think it’s safe to assume these young men were regulars at this particular swimming hole. Nonetheless, it was a nailbiting scene, and it was clear that even the jumpers were more than a little nervous, one even performing a sign of the cross before leaping into the air. Everyone below watched and cheered so it became a group spectator sport and when they returned to the shore, the young men were welcomed by their waiting wives and girlfriends.

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One of them asked me if I wanted to try, and while I might have been ok with the jumping part, when I asked them how they even got up there in the first place, they pointed to a section of wall that looked incredibly vertical and slippery, so I declined. I did try my luck at getting closer to the falls, although I only made it about halfway across the deep pool before the current and force of the wind drove me back, but it was exhilarating to be able to get so close to so much natural beauty and power.

After I retreated back to the resting rock, I was approached by yet another set of tourism students from the university, out collecting interviews for what was very likely the same class project. Of course I agreed to appear on camera, but I can’t help imagining what that class will be like when they show their projects and two separate groups with interviews at two separate waterfalls show up with the same tourist in their report!

I would have happily stayed until it was too dark to see or I got kicked out. Especially because around this time the crowds started thinning out and I got to take some totally human free photos of the magnificent scenery. However, I had made dinner plans for my last night in town and didn’t want to cancel. Thus, I clambered cautiously back through the shallow pools filled with pointy rocks, gathered my belongings, and climbed back out of the river valley as the golden light of the afternoon sun cast it’s glow on the quiet jungle around me.

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And so ends the Chuseok Philippine Holiday. Like all the very best vacation posts, it takes me months to process all the stories and photos. My goal is always to get one vacation fully published before the next one, and while I didn’t have a winter vacation this year, I am doing a major upheaval in March as I move to a new city in Korea, rent my first Korean apartment on my own, and start a new job, so that seemed like a good deadline. I don’t know how much time I’ll have in March to write, but I hope that as the weather warms up and the flowers come out in April, I’ll have a cavalcade of new stories about this next leg of my journey. As always, you can see the full photo album on Facebook. Thanks for reading!

Letters From China (Bunny Bureaucracy 2008)

I changed the order of my last two posts from China in order to end on a happier note. There was so much about the last few months of that experience that was difficult and miserable, and in large part, I simply stopped doing things or writing things as the illness and depression took hold. However, the unconditional love of a pet is a powerful force, and it turned out that I would do nearly anything for my bun. So, here’s the wacky story of how I got the red stamp of approval to bring him home. I don’t have any pics of the events described, but instead you get more cute bunny pictures to break up the wall of text.


Bunny on a Plane: An Epic Tail

This post is dedicated to Elspeth. She was there for me and the bunny in our moment of need and has remained a faithful friend to this day. She supports me from afar, and I love her for it. Thank you, El.

66Monday:

Monday was my first day of not teaching. It was not too bad. I did a lot more research on bringing pets on international flights and became seriously disheartened that bringing the bunny home was simply outside my price range. I went to dinner with some of the other teachers and made arrangements to house the bunny with another American in Beijing who already has one pet rabbit. I got home about 11:30, and met Elspeth online because she had agreed to call some airlines for me to see if we could possibly find something the internet had not revealed.

She called 6 or 7 airlines, spent a lot of time on hold and even more time talking to machines. I had eliminated airlines that did not allow animals on international flights, and airlines that did not fly direct from China to the US (each airline has its own rules and pricing, and many tickets over long distances may say they are one company, but the planes are actually partner companies planes, thus would result in new rules and prices. For example, one airline told us they could carry the bun trans-Pacifically, but not OUT of China). Of the remaining options, many simply refused rabbits, and the rest were WAY too expensive.

Finally, around 3am we were on our last try, all others having failed. The number given for reservations totally refused to yeild a human being, and it looked like we would have to give up without any good news and the bunny would have to stay in China. I found another number, not for the department we needed, but in the same airline and said, ok if the person who answers can’t get you a human in the department we need, then we’ll give up.

Huzzah, they were able to give El a sneaky way to bypass the machines and get to a person!

And then a ray of light came into my dreary morning. Yes we can take your bunny internationally, yes it’s a reasonable price for the bunny and for you! For it would have done me no good to get a cheap fare for the bunny and a hugely expensive one for myself.

Book it!

Oh wait.

What paperwork does the airline require? The USDA, CDC and Fish & Wildlife have no restrictions on bunnies entering the US as pets and don’t need any proof of shots etc, but airlines have their own rules.

They need a certificate of health.

What is that and where do I get it? The internet says it has to show proof of rabies shots, but my bunny hasn’t had one, bunnies don’t traditionally get them. Is there an exception for bunnies?

The airline does not know.

Well, rabies shots must be given 30 days before departure, so if he needs one, this still may not work. The airline offers to hold the ticket for 24 hrs so I can call my vet during Beijing business hours.

4 am I get to go to bed.

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Tuesday:

I woke up at 9 something am to be awake when Abbey (the coordinator for the foreign teachers) came over with my final pay. They decided to withhold an additional 500 yuan in case of furniture damage… given the state of the sofa, I’m not expecting to see that again.

I called the vet and left a message that I urgently needed to talk to him THAT DAY about travel documents for the bunny. I also emailed.

I turned the volume on the phone way up and tried to go back to sleep. But the power was out. I think there are 2 things worth mentioning here. 1) the power goes out here several times a week with no apparent reason, so I was not worried or surprised. 2) its usually only out for 5-10 minutes at a go.

My bedroom window faces the street, and its one of the busy ones, hair salons blaring music in competition with one another, cars honking to say hi, or get out of my way or fuck off, not really sure, and firecrackers at random. Because of this, I leave the fan in my AC on to create a white noise and dampen these outdoor noises.

The power was out for more than 3 hrs. I had no fan, and though MY power was out, all the hair salons’ power was not. So sleep did not happen.

I start to wonder why the vet has not called back. I’m tired and bored, and don’t want to go out because I have no mobile phone. So I call back around 230-3pm and re-explain how important it is to get this info promptly.

I finally get through to the vet, yay. For the next 2 hrs there is a dance in which his Chinese secretary calls the government office of import/export to find out what’s up (I did not know that the certificate had to come from the government, I thought it just needed to be from a vet), then tells the vet what the government said, then the vet calls me and tells me what the secretary said. Then I ask questions, cause its very confusing, and he asks his secretary and she calls the government office back, and… for 2 hrs. At one point I even have to email the link to the APHIS page on US regulations for rabbits to the vet.

Finally, at nearly 5 pm the vet tells me that the government official refuses to believe that the US has no requirements and that I must go to the office in person the next day before 11:30 am, because he’s leaving at lunch and won’t be back until Friday. FRIDAY! Bad enough I can’t get answers in time to get the good ticket price that’s on hold, but if I have to wait until Friday, I’ll have to reschedule my whole return flight.

Why do I need to come in? Bear in mind, I still think that my vet is the one who has to give the bun his exam and paperwork, so I’m thinking that I have to go to this office and who-knows-what just so the official can tell the vet what to put on the form or something, very vague at this point, and the vet is not dispelling my understanding, because he’s talking about needing to make an appointment for the bunny to come see him.

The vet thinks that the guy is just being stubborn and wants to see me put in some effort or jump through some hoop, and I should just print out the website to take to him.

Where is it?

His secretary will email the address to me (never did, btw).

Who is this person?

Surname Xue.

EEEK! I don’t understand! What to I bring, what am I supposed to get from them, HELP!!!

He says maybe I should have one of my Chinese friends call Xue, but its 5pm now and he’s probably gone from his office (totally true, I tried to call)

So, I’m furious, I’m tired. I can’t buy the ticket yet, because I still have no real answer on the rabies issue, the vet couldn’t tell me. The airline doesn’t know what the health certificate is supposed to have other than ‘generally not in ill health’, and I can’t DO anything about it for 15 hrs when the office opens again.

So, I went out, got food and beer, which helped. Took a shower and completely failed to be able to relax enough to sleep until after 1am.

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Wednesday:

Woke up at 7:30 am, rushed to dress and get out (no breakfast) so I could get to the international affairs office at the school when it opened at 8am to beg them to call this Xue person and find out what I was supposed to be doing.

Xue didn’t get to the office till 8:30, and turned out to be a Ms. rather than a Mr. (thus demonstrating just ONE of the communication breakdowns that occurred between Ms. Xue, the vet’s secretary, the vet and myself). Abbey was able to explain the situation apparently better than the vet’s secretary, which is a little scary, and was also able to steer Ms. Xue to the APHIS website so she could see the regulations (or lack thereof) for herself, which is what the vet said I HAD to do in person.

Several phone calls, an email and an hour later, I had learned that I simply needed to go to her office building, starting on the ground floor at window 3 or 4 to fill out a form, then proceeding upstairs to Ms. Xue’s office on the 4th floor, and please bring the bunny and no it shouldn’t cost anything.

At about 9:30 am I rushed back to my apartment and packed the bunny and his breakfast in his travel bag. Stopped at the supermarket on the way to the bus stop to grab a snickers and a can of coffee for me, and hopped on a bus totally forgetting my music and book, but in too much of a hurry to go back and wait for the next bus, since I’ve got an 11:30 deadline and a 90 min travel time.

Bus, taxi, finally there. I go to window 4 (3 is vacant) and say I need to bring my pet home to America with me. She says I need some exam paperwork from my vet (which is surely why he thought he needed to make an appointment for me). And I say, no no. Ms. Xue in room 405 told me I just needed to come here to you and get one form, then bring my pet to her.

So, she calls Ms Xue, and thankfully I am not sent packing to my vet’s office, but rather handed the requisite form to fill out. Which I do, with only minor difficulties due to odd translations. I then take the form upstairs, being stopped occasionally by overzealous clerks to make sure I belonged there.

2017 Note: Basically everyone I encountered in this building other than Ms. Xue (who was expecting me) figured that I had a dog or cat. They also didn’t speak English, so I would say that I had a rabbit (tu-zi) and they would look confused, sure that I had misspoken. Tu-zi? Zhen-de? (rabbit? really?) and then I would open the lime green bag and the bunny would look up and twitch his nose at them and they would look completely stunned and wave me on to the next office, door, or checkpoint. I went through exactly the same thing at the airport when he was in his carrier and the woman at the check in counter called over every other employee she could find to look at the crazy white woman and the adorable bunny. 67.jpg

Ms. Xue is rather young and wearing a uniform with shoulder epaulets that put one in mind of a military or boy scout uniform, but by now I know that all government employees wear some kind of military-esque uniform.

I wait for her to get off the phone then hand over my form. At this point, a conversation in rapid Chinese commences between Ms. Xue and her colleagues. Normally, I try to tune these things out, but I could tell they were talking about me and my rabbit, so I listened. I couldn’t tell you word for word, but there was definitely an issue about the lack of vet papers and the veracity of the claim that the US has no regulations on pet rabbits.

The print out of the APHIS website is passed around. Ms. Xue starts to make phone calls, and I loose the thread. She takes a look at the rabbit, not an exam, doesn’t even take it out of the bag or touch it, but I suppose she needed to be sure it really was a rabbit. Then she asks me to write a declaration averring that the rabbit is indeed my pet.

I hereby do certify that this rabbit is my pet. Handwritten, signed and dated.

She asks me to leave the bunny in her office and come back downstairs, where we return to window 4. I am handed a new form and asked to write what soon turns out to be a request to cancel the first form I filled out.

Then, Ms Xue takes me to ANOTHER office, where I fill out new and different forms, which are then typed and reprinted. I am asked to double check this printed information and to pay a 200 yuan fee (about 30$). Whereupon I am handed 2 stamped forms.

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An Aside About Red Stamps

I would like to say something about red stamps at this point.

The Chinese are mad about them. Everything official needs at least one, but the more the better. For example: the supermarket. There are many small non-food items at many stores that cannot be taken to the main register with all your other goods. In fact, they may not be taken to a register at all. You bring your item(s) to a clerk in the department, and if you try to walk tOo far with said item, a clerk will find you. The clerk takes the item(s) and writes a description and price on a small 3 layer carbon copy form. You then take this form to the nearby register (still not the main one at which you will pay for most of your goods, this is a register that deals only with these little forms). The girl at the register (I’ve never seen a man at one) takes the 3 layers and your money, she puts the top layer in the register, glues the register receipt to the second layer, stamps the second layer and receipt with one stamp (so that part of the design is on each and is only whole when they are together), and stamps the third layer as well (little red stamps), then hands these back to you. You then take them back to the clerk who has your item(s), who takes the register receipt glued second layer and gives you your item(s) and the third layer.

This you must do to buy nail clippers. Imagine what an export form for a rabbit entails. Am I complete now that I have these 2 red stamps?

Back to the Bunny

I follow Ms. Xue (who has taken my stamped forms) back to her 4th floor office to collect my bunny. She prints out another form and places it on a stack of papers containing the 2 red stamped forms, the printed pages of the APHIS website, the handwritten statement confirming the petly nature of the bunny and possibly something else, I lost track, and hands the stack to me.

I glance at the top (newest) form and notice it does not have a stamp.

Oh no, she says, we must go see the official government vet so they can examine the bun and stamp us.

Ok, BACK down to window 4 (this woman was getting familiar with my issue). It is 11:45 am at this point, and alas, the vet has already left for lunch. I need to come back at 2pm, and she TOOK my stamped papers!

So, I’m in an unfamiliar neighborhood, 2 hrs to kill, not remotely enough time to go home, and the bunny is still stuck in his travel bag. The net bar I found was closed, and as previously mentioned, I ran out the door without music or book. So I find a cafe and stare at the wall while sipping iced Americanos and try to stay awake.

I get back to the office at 1:45, expecting to actually SEE a vet. No, Window 4 sees me coming and pulls out a brand new stack of forms. Thankfully, these are are the official on letterhead paper versions of the forms I had filled out or had printed before. She liberally applies her red stamp 5-6 times, stamping each layer of the carbon copies and removing the requisite ones for her own records, and I am handed my official animal health certificate and export approval certificate.

Taxi, bus, get home around 3:30 with real food finally. The bunny has been stuck in his bag for 6 hours, and I’ve been running on a snickers bar for 9, but we’re DONE, we have the stamps. Now, I just have to stay up until 11:pm till Elspeth gets back online and we can finally buy the ticket (hoping that the low price will still be available) so I can officially cancel my early Thursday morning meeting with the potential adoptive pet owner.

Lychee flavored beer and liberal amounts of snackfood and Facebook see me through the intervening hours and Elspeth wakes up extra early in sympathy, for she was made aware of my plight before going to bed.

Finally, we have a ticket for me and a reservation for the bunny. See you soon!

In loving memory: October 2007-April 2012


And so it was that the Bunny and I returned to Seattle together. He was a good bun, and I miss him. Elspeth still talks about the hardship of waking up at the crack of dawn to call airlines, even though these days she’s regularly up and out of the house early enough to take photos of the sunrise. In many ways, this was the benchmark for my experiences in pointless international bureaucracy with crazy mistranslations and inconsistently applied policies. It never ceases to make my brain boggle, but it is somewhat reassuring to look back and see what kind of paperwork I’ve navigated in the past to give me confidence to take on daunting paperwork mountains needed for my future. 

Hello Bohol: Historical Sites & History

When I was in high school I thought history was the most boring subject ever. Now I know it was just that history had the most boring teachers… and textbooks. Seriously, I don’t know how hard they have to work to make something so interesting seem so boring. However, since I know the secret these days, I love using my travels as an excuse to learn about the history of each place I visit. Bohol is far richer in history than I can fully explore here, but I enjoyed learning more about it, and I hope you will too.


Mostly Catholic Churches

I visited many of the large cathedrals left over from Spanish occupation that had distinctive stone architecture and European influenced art, but driving around I saw a great many smaller centers of worship. Most of the small churches around the island are a single “room”, wall-less or lattice walled affairs where the neighborhood can gather to worship. I took that picture on the right from the street. It’s not under construction, it just doesn’t have a wall there.

They are very devout Catholics over there. One evening on the way to dinner from the hotel, I drove past a procession of some kind, a mixture of genders and ages, but 4 men were carrying a liter with a statue of (probably) the Virgin Mary and a mountain of colorful flowers. They walked down our small street singing Ave Maria as they trailed after the statue. I didn’t take any pictures in part because I was driving, but also I felt it would have been a bit rude. These people weren’t worshiping in a place that was heavy with tourists and I felt as though I’d been allowed to witness something very personal.

The large historical cathedrals are well marked tourist spots however, so I have plenty of photos of those.

Panglao Watchtower & St. Augustine Parish

Before visiting,  I didn’t know much about the history of the island other than a little bit about the Spanish colonization. However, the watchtowers are listed on a great many “to do” collections, so when I noticed one nearby on Google Maps, I decided to stop and check it out. As I pulled in, several young men asked if I was there for an island hopping tour. This was one major tourist attraction I decided against before arriving simply because the descriptions I read online made it sound like a horrible hassle for little reward. I politely declined and found a shady tree to park under near the church of San Augustine. Some nearby cows who wandered over to see if I had anything interesting, but soon realized there were no treats.20171001_114802.jpg

The Panglao Watchtower is located on the south end of the island. It is 5 stories high, making it the tallest structure on the island. It was built in 1851 by the Spanish, and is in serious disrepair. I know almost nothing else about it, because it’s not a popular enough historical site to have much published about it online. I did find that around that time the Spanish and Filipinos were having a bit of a tiff over things like government control and secularization, so I suppose the watchtower built next to the church may have been out of a concern that the church could be attacked by secularists?

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I wandered around taking photos of the tower and the mangroves nearby before moving to the church. There were people inside, it was a Sunday after all, but it seemed to be a small meeting and not a full congregation and they were confined to one section of the church, so I quietly stepped in to an empty area to look around and take a few more pictures inside. As I stood looking at the art and architecture, I was struck by the very Spanish style before remembering that colonization of the Philippines was Spanish and not British.

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Finally, I walked out along the end of the pier all those island hoppers were using to see the ocean view. I didn’t know it at the time, I only found out days later when a restaurant owner told me, but apparently a local church runs a free ferry to the nearby Virgin Island (a stop on the island hopping tour), and if you want to know more, you’ll have to go to Nikita’s Coffee Shop and ask the old British guy who runs the joint, as I never had the chance to find that particular boat.

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Dauis Watchtower, Our Lady of the Assumption Parish, & The Miracle Well

My next goal was to find the Miracle Well, which is located at the Our Lady of the Assumption church on the north end of the island. There is a little matching cathedral and watchtower at both north and south, although the northern watchtower was so much shorter that I almost didn’t see it at all.

The church is just next to the bridge that leads over to Bohol. It’s easy to find parking, and the grounds are lovely. I wandered slowly around taking photos of the exterior of the church, some of the statues and grottoes around, the sea nearby, and a little brood of baby chicks because they were insanely cute. The watchtower is so low that I have no idea what one would be watching from it’s second story window, but it seemed to be a part of the set. Unfortunately, by the time I finished exploring the exterior, they were just closing up for lunch and I didn’t get inside (don’t worry, I came back another day).

Our Lady of Assumption is so close to the bridge to Bohol that I was able to pause there again on my way elsewhere for another shot at getting inside the church and finding the Miracle Well, but it wasn’t until my third stop at the church that I finally succeeded. At long last, the church was both open and unoccupied, so I was able to get inside without interrupting services.

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It is an open and intricately decorated church. Either it had been untouched by the earthquake or had been lucky enough to earn a full restoration because the inside was in excellent repair. The large sanctuary had stone walls, but also large windows to let in light and air. It was an interesting combination of the European style and island style. I wandered around taking pictures and looking for the well, which is supposed to be near the altar.

According to myth, the town was under attack by pirates (a thing which did happen regularly), and all the townsfolk locked themselves in the church (big stone building, makes sense). However, the pirates were determined and began a siege, trapping the townsfolk inside with no water! Then, miraculously, a fresh water well sprang forth at the foot of the altar and saved the people inside, allowing them to wait out the pirates who I suppose either got bored or were driven off by the Spanish navy. The well remains a source of fresh water to this day, despite the fact that it is a stone’s throw from the sea. The church offers bottles of this miraculous water for a donation of your choice.

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I searched everywhere. I saw no well. I looked online for images that might give me a clue where the well was, but the interior seemed to have undergone a remodel, and the few photos of the well I found were such close ups that I could not tell where in the church they were. Was I even in the right church? There were no signs, no informative plaques to tell visitors about this amazing miracle. Had I really come to the wrong church three times looking for a well that either didn’t exist or had been destroyed in the earthquake?

Finally, on my way out, I saw a small office with some people who looked at least a little bit like they were affiliated with the church and asked. A very kind lady not only assured me that this was the correct church, but led me over to the well, which was hiding unobtrusively amid a low wooden railing that separated the parishioner’s pews from the priest’s area.

I had seen the railing and the signs on it that said “no entry”, and had looked no further, but in one little section, the railing goes from being a single line, to being a square and there is enclosed the well, covered with Plexiglas to keep anything or anyone from falling in. 20171006_150623She took up a nearby lamp and shone it into the depths so that I could see the water below.

Once I’d taken a few photos, she walked me back over to the office and fetched a bottle of the “miracle water” for me to try. Of course I left a donation, don’t be silly. And since tourists are advised against drinking the tap water here, you’ll be happy to hear that I suffered no ill health from the miracle well water. Maybe that’s the miracle?

More photos of the St. Augustine & Lady of Assumption Churches.

St. Peter the Apostle Parish Ruins

After the river cruise, I headed across the street to see the Loboc Church, aka Saint Peter the Apostle Parish Church. The full history of the Spanish colonization here is for a later time. For now, suffice it to note that this church was the second built on Bohol by the Jesuits. The Parish was done in 1602, but the coral-stone building that (mostly) stands today was finished in 1734. Then in 1768 the Jesuits were tossed out and another Catholic group called the Order of the Augustinian Recollects took over. I’m not going to try to explain Catholic orders here, feel free to wiki that if you have a burning desire to know. It’s also been declared a National Treasure by the Philippine government, and is under consideration for UNESCO heritage sites. It was absofrickinloutly beautiful (judging from photos) before the 2013 earthquake and now it is a stunning ruin.

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I had spotted the ruins when driving to and from the Chocolate Hills earlier in the week, but at the time I was  hurrying to get there or exhausted and ready for bed, so I was pleased to have carved out some time just to go and ogle the ruins. I know it’s tragic that the earthquake destroyed so much, and I’m sure I would have enjoyed seeing the church in it’s glory, because photos really do look lovely, but there is something about ruins being reclaimed by nature that just draws me right in. Even though it’s only been 4 years since the earthquake, the locals have just not been able to raise enough money to complete repairs and other than some scaffolding and a few gates to keep people out, the structure has been left to the onrush of jungle foliage.

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Trees have sprouted in the walls. Ferns and mosses creep across the stone carvings. I peeked in barred windows to see the remains of a baptismal font, and peered through gated doorways to see the interior filled only with more layers of scaffolding. It’s clear that they do not wish to simply leave the church to decay, but very little has been done in the 4 years following the destruction. To me it was the perfect combination of man-made beauty and natural power.

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At one point, I moved up close to get a good photo of some carving and I noticed the odd texture of some of the stones in the wall. They seemed to be organic. I know there are some crystalline structures that can appear organic, but these struck me as being especially sea-like and I wondered at the time if the stones may have come from a once-upon-a-time sea floor limestone quarry. I saw more of the same stones in other ruins once I knew what I was looking for, and vowed to find out when I got back. It turns out the answer is fairly simple, and I wasn’t far wrong. It’s not so much an ancient sea bed quarry, as a coral quarry. I had no idea coral could be quarried for building materials, but this happens in several islands in the Caribbean and South Pacific. Sometimes the coral is sliced into roof tiles, sometimes it’s mixed in with other ingredients to make a kind of concrete, and sometimes it’s big enough to hew whole building stones from, leaving some of the churches of Bohol with fascinating fossil structures in their walls.

I spent close to an hour circling around the crumbling church. The detail in the stones, the tiny plants and the hidden carvings and grottoes were entrancing, but eventually the heat and sunshine drove me back to my bike and back on the road where a welcome travel breeze cooled me off once more.

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Baclayon Church

I will admit that my itineraries were largely informed by picking a single destination based on interest or reviews, and then examining the map to see what else was labeled on the roads I would be driving. I mean, if you’re in control of your own transportation, there’s no reason not to pull off to at least have a look when passing by landmarks, right? I don’t think I would have gone on a church tour in the Philippines for it’s own sake (although I did go to several in Europe because architecture!), but I’m glad I had the chance to see the buildings.

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I had a suspicion by this time that I’d actually seen the Baclayon Church before, but not stopped at it. Looking at the map that day, I was sure it was the church that was visible from the market I’d stopped at for snacks on that first drive up to Bohol while going to the Chocolate Hills. And lo, I was correct. It was a little tricky to find the entrance, but fortunately Bohol is not a heavy traffic place, so if you get lost its easy enough to pull over or turn around.

The Baclayon Church (also The Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary Parish Church)  is the oldest Christian settlement in Bohol, established by the same Jesuit group that had set up the Loboc Church. It was first colonized in 1596, and the finished coral stone building that stands now was completed in 1727. It was also taken over by the Augustinians. It was also declared a national treasure. And it was also a short-lister for UNESCO world heritage sites before the earthquake hit. However, unlike the Loboc church which is nearly untouched, the Baclayon Church is well under way with repairs. I ran into a construction crew on the far side actively working.20171006_141117.jpgThere is very little sign of damage on the exterior. This is not because the damage was minimal, but because the effort has been great. There was a before and after photo out front as well, showing what the damage looked like just after the quake and it’s much closer to what Loboc Church still looks like. I wandered around the exterior taking more photos and found several more blocks with that organic sea-life look that I now know to be coral stone. It seemed that the sanctuary proper was still under construction, but it is scheduled to re-open this year.

The museum, reliquary and gift shop are all open to the public. I have never seen so many rosary based trinkets in one place as that gift shop, I think some may have been several meters in length while others appeared to be made of glow in the dark materials. The reliquary is at this point in time simply a loose collection of the relics and art that adorned the church and (mostly) survived the damage: statues, a few rather terrifying mannequins and a version of the Pieta with some loose wigs. Still, it’s clear that these were all valuable historical displays and they were gathered together with care. I’m afraid I declined to enter the museum proper that day.

More photos of the Loboc and Baclayon Churches.

The Blood Compact Memorial

One of my favorite travel techniques is to look at a map or a tour to-do list, see a thing with an interesting name, visit it, realize I have no idea what it is about, take a ton of pictures, and look it up when I get home. The Blood Compact is a perfect example of this formula.

When I programmed my map app to take me there, the destination was a place I had driven past at least 3 times during the last week, yet unlike the Baclayon Church which I was confident of having seen while driving past, I could not recall anything at all where the map was pointing me. Confused, I pulled up the street view, hoping to get a better idea of what that stretch of road looked like, and Google insisted on pointing me to a patch of grass on the side of the road with nothing around it. This is not the first time that happened on this trip since some things are set back off the road, either down a slope or behind trees where the cameras missed it. Since I had to drive that way to get back to the hotel anyway, I decided to give it a whirl.

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I only realized I’d driven past when my app dinged in my earbuds. When I pulled over to look around, I spotted a tiny little monument set back from the road back the way I’d come. I turned around to get a better vantage point and took my “I was here photos”, but there didn’t seem to be anything other than this small wall, explanatory plaque, and a trio of wayward goats.

“About the middle of March, 1565, Captain General Miguel Lopez de Legaspi’s fleet anchored along this shore. Shortly thereafter, Legaspi, manifesting trust and confidence in the islanders, entered into a blood compact with Datu Sikatuna, for the purpose of insuring friendly relations between the Spaniards and the natives. A few drops of blood drawn from a small incision in the arm of each of the two chiefs were placed in separate cups containing wine, and in the presence of the followers of both, each chief drank the potion containing the blood of the other. Thus, during this period of colonization, a bond was sealed in accordance with native practice, the first treaty of friendship and alliance between Spaniards and Filipinos. –1941”

Later, while doing my “now what did I just see” research, I found all these cool pictures of a bronze statue of the ceremony! Where even was that? There are two places on that road labeled “Blood Compact” on Google, and I’m willing to bet that a lot of the people posting photos of the statue were part of a tour group with a guide who knew where to go. Looking at Google Street View in retrospect, I found both the plaque and the bronze statue in different places. The plaque is next to a convenience store and somewhat down a slope from the roadside. The statue is next to “Ocean Suites”,  on a raised dais, behind a white metal fence. I may have driven past it and thought it was part of the hotel. *sigh.

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How About That History?

I am not going to write a comprehensive history of the Philippines, or even come close. This is a highlights reel to put the current socio-political and economical issues the Philippines is facing into context for those of you who, like me, found your history books mysteriously silent on the fate of small island nations.

Colonialism

A whole bunch of countries were scrambling to get to the East and get the precious SPICES! The Portuguese, Dutch, Spanish, British, Ottoman, and even the Chinese and Japanese were all out to expaaaaaaand. That’s how I got a country, and how lots and lots of indigenous people lost theirs. The Portuguese and the Ottomans were being a bit rude in the Philippine Islands, so when the Spaniards showed up on Bohol and were like, “oh no we are not like those silly Portuguese!” The natives were happy to make this treaty with them, and the Boholano people are still quite proud that their ancestors made the first friendship treaty with their eventual oppressors… Yeah, I don’t like colonialism.

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Image – Front National SA

Which makes this next part extra sad.

A few hundred years of all those empires competing over SE Asia and South Pacific islands of military strategic value meant that even though the Spanish held the Philippines officially until 1898, there were plenty of battles, skirmishes and invasions where someone else took control of Manila or other islands. Basically all the rich kids fighting over the land and the native people getting boned. Sometimes the natives did rebel, I think the longest single rebellion lasted almost a hundred years in one part of the country, but none succeeded at driving their European overlords out. The part that came as a complete and total shock to me is that Spanish rule of the Philippines did NOT end with independence in 1898, but rather with the sale of the island nation to …(dun, dun, dun) THE USA! …at the end of the Spanish American war.

The Philippine American War

Mere days after the transfer of ownership, the Filipinos tried to declare their independence once more. While we (Americans) were busy fighting the Spanish American War, the native Filipinos were simultaneously fighting Spain for their independence. Was the democracy loving US *helping* little Philippines? No, because we were still pretty darn isolationist in 1898 and hadn’t gotten into the habit of having the giant standing army we like to send around on “peacekeeping missions”. We were actually fighting Spain for control of their islands like Cuba. By the end of the war, they signed over Cuba, Guam, Puerto Rico, and the Philippine Islands, although apparently the US paid 20$ million for the last one to cover infrastructure costs.

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By the way, we still own Guam and Puerto Rico, but won’t let them be states (have representation) or apparently get decent federal aid after a devastating hurricane.

Having been engaged with the Spanish for their freedom, the Filipinos were not actually on board with the sale, and declared themselves independent and published a lovely constitution. The US, on the other hand felt it had paid some hard earned money for the territory and so began the Philippine American War, which I had actually never heard of until now. The Filipinos lost, and America continued to OWN the country until after WWII when we were generally making everyone (mostly Britain) give back all their colonies and decided to use the Philippines as our “set a good example” colony.

Military Dictatorship

Shortly after WWII, we get to Ferdinand Marcos who started his career in the House in 1949 (just a few years after officially free Philippines happened) and eventually became the President who implemented strict martial law from 1972-1981. It was a military dictatorship, and a seriously brutal time, and why am I telling you about it here? Because although the was finally ousted by a revolution in 1986, his rule was a major threat to democracy there and rife with cronyism, favoritism, extortion, and flat out ignoring the constitution. And the guy in power now is making a lot of people draw comparisons.

10 interesting facts about president ferdinand marcos | tenminutes.ph on Ferdinand Marcos Background

image tenminutes.ph

Like many countries, the Philippines was not proud of that time in it’s history and as a new generation grew up in the light of the revolution and the restoration of democracy, they weren’t always well educated on the dark side of Marcos’ reign. Too soon, people began to think that stricter measures and even martial law could be good tools to help the country.

Democracy and Death Squads

Enter Duterte. Another lifelong politician, he has risen to popularity and power with the aid of DEATH SQUADS. I’m not kidding. In order to “clean up” the country, he has repeatedly and publicly declared that it’s ok to kill criminals without trial. This includes drug dealers, drug users, petty criminals, and “street children”. If you aren’t gagging in horror, you may need to get checked for your humanity.

Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte inspects firearms together with Eduardo Ano, Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines, during his visit at the military camp in Marawi city

image Reuters

He’s also said unbelievably horrible things about wanting to rape women, wanting to kill people who cause problems with extreme violence, and pardoning everyone under his command who committed human rights abuses while carrying out his orders… if this sounds like any other world leader you may have seen on tv in the last year, you are not alone in thinking this.

Responsible Tourism

This left me in a tricky position vis a vis being a tourist. I did not feel in danger in Duterte’s bloody cleanup because they are in no way targeting foreign nationals in this death squad round up. But economically, it was a tough choice. I know that my tiny vacation budget is not going to have an impact on the national economy of the Philippines, but it just might have an impact on the lives of the small business owners, guides, and environmental preservation programs that I do want to support and that I desperately hope survive until the next era of democratic sanity is restored. So, yes, I went and I feel ok about that.