What's in a Name?

Once upon a time....

Someone had a really screwed up, nonsensical idea. This idea gained far more attention than it deserved and permeated several generations.
The premise of the idea was that in becoming married, instead of a woman adding something (or someone) to herself, she had to become a little less herself and a little more her spouse.

Perhaps I'm being vague, so let me be more clear. Though this "sacrificial lamb" notion of marriage could be applied to many things, right now I'm talking about the expectation that a female should give up her family name as a result of marriage.

Of course, I realize that marriage is all about sacrifice. You have to learn to think more about someone else than you do about yourself. I'm not gonna lie, I think it is a difficult task for everyone, albeit an important one. But, if marriage is about sacrifice, shouldn't the sacrifice be equal? Shared? Should the woman really be expected to give up who she is while the man goes on his merry way?

I'm by no means a feminist, but the fact that women feel they have to drop their family names at marriage agitates me. Some women prefer it, and if they do, more power to them. I do, however, think it's horrible to pressure a woman into cutting the name that explains who she is, her heritage, out of her identity.

I'm so proud of my last name. My grandfather is a fantastic man who touched a lot of lives and hearts. He helped build a school and had it named after him. It's always been a sense of pride for me to hear of students who went to the school that has become part of my grandfather's legacy. My family name shows people that this is my bloodline, this is who I am. And having such a good family history is not something I want to hide.

Not only that, but to drop my name and use only Craig's family name seems somehow foreign to me. I love Craig's family dearly, and when Craig and I are married we will all be family. However, we don't share the same blood, history, or legacy. His family has a great history as well, but it is their history.

I've decided to hyphenate. Only for legal purposes. Otherwise I will just use my own family name. It's sort of a compromise as I believe it is important to Craig's family for me to have a piece of them, but it's extremely important to me to keep a piece of my own family.

"It's just a NAME!" Some may say. But aren't names are of infinite importance? Think about it, what's the very first question that you ask someone when you meet them? Before you find out anything else, in most cases, you find out their name. And hearing the family name is how connections are made.

It's a sad world that we live in if we are forcing females to cut out such a chunk of who they are and replace it with someone who they aren't. Despite the closeness that marriage brings to couples, the people within the couple are still individuals who have separate heritages.

What's in a name? I think a whole freaking lot!!!

And I'm not even married yet. Imagine the ranting I'll do later..... :)

I Don't Know Why You Say Good-bye, I Say Hello.

I hate goodbyes.

And I'm horrible at them. In all honesty, I'm about as skilled at attempting to say good-bye as George Bush and friends have been in the U.S. whitehouse for the past eight years.

As my time in good ole' ROK draws to a close, I am becoming nostalgic. I know I have lots to rant about when it comes to Korean culture and people in general - but overall I have to say that this year I believe I've met some of the most amazing and genuine people in existence.

Craig and I are not the only teachers leaving our institute. So many of the other Canadian teachers are also heading home, and it has been difficult to say goodbye to them.

Even harder, though, is leaving my Korean friends. At least with the Canadian staff there's a sense of hope that we might see each other sometime in the future. But with the Korean staff and my Korean friends, who knows when - if ever - we'll cross paths again.

Then life happens, things change, slowly (sometimes quickly) people move on and forget about the gut-wrenching goodbyes. Over time the deep feelings of respect and love become so far removed from more current situations that they eventually just dissipate altogether. This is another reason I am finding it so hard to part from those who are staying in Korea - I'm worried that we'll soon forget what we mean to each other, and to me that's even worst then never seeing each other again.

Then there are my students. Bright, beautiful children who annoy the crap out of me sometimes, but whom I love like a bunch of nieces and nephews. They have become such a huge part of my life here, each one bringing something new and unique to the table. I have thoroughly enjoyed watching them form their own personalities and watching friendships grow as a result of my class. But, after watching them grow for a year - now I have to suddenly just cut myself from their lives and paste myself somewhere across the world where I have no idea about their reading levels, their haircuts, the new English sentences that they are learning. I hate it, and it's not like I can say to a bunch of five year olds: "Hey, so, here's my e-mail address - let's stay in touch!" Nope. This is it. This really is goodbye.

I'm so excited for my return to Paradise (i.e. Canada), and in particular, my little corner of Canada. However, I feel a little down when I think that I could end up being 90 years old and still not knowing how little Barbie, Yun-Hee, Da-Eun, Hye-Hyun, Jeansol, Kong-Joo, Ha-Ri, Kevin, Min-Seo, Soo-Young, Dong-Hwan, Min-Kyu, One-June, Jeff, Christina, You-Young, Seong-Min, etc. turned out and what they have become in their lives.

So, while I am packing my bags and overflowing with excitement, you can be sure that I'm also wallowing in sorrow over these sad goodbyes.

The Chronicles of Korea (Part III - The Korean Pedestal).

The finance director at the company I'm working with here in Korea is a real jerk.
He is Korean, and is half cordial with the Canadian staff. The Korean staff who are "below him," on the other hand, he treats like the scum of the Korean horkers stuck to his shoe.

It is very irritating to me. But here, apparently it's quite normal for people in positions of power to rule with an iron fist so to speak. I hate how he is the finance director but the decisions he makes on a daily basis permeate throughout the entire school. This guy has no idea about education or about what it means to run a school.

His name is "HK," which I am certain stands for "Honoured King." Or perhaps a more fitting title would be "Heartless Kook." He has people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The way he treats the hardest working people I have ever seen (who just happen to be Korean staff) seriously borders on abuse. If I remember anything from "The Animal Farm," I remember that "absolute power corrupts absolutely." Never have truer words been written. He has been given far too much power and it has gone straight to his oversized, hollow head.

Sue is the name of the guy who takes care of all the housing/other demands of the teachers here. Well, that's his job description. He's basically the miscellaneous guy who does everything and every spare job gets thrown on him. I've never seen anyone work so much overtime or be that busy. He's a great guy who is always willing to help. Unfortunately, his office is on the dreaded 11th floor which is where HK and his sidekick Jim reside, and so poor Sue falls directly in their line of power. Sue actually would not sign his name to a potluck sign-up sheet that I posted last weekend for my co-workers. He came to the party, but if he had signed his name and HK or Jim had seen it, he would have been in crap. A couple of the other teachers bought Sue a nice briefcase bag for his birthday, since he's always carrying around loads of papers in a plastic bag. However, they later realized that Sue could not use a nice briefcase bag, because apparently something like that is only reserved for those in "important positions." So he has to stick to the plastic - or be ridiculed at the very least.

Once I asked Sue, in a serious conversation, if he is afraid of HK. He was not very eager to respond, but when he did he said: "A little bit." Imagine! A grown man in his thirties having to be afraid of someone who is not even his boss!

The places where the "finance team," who I would like to refer to as the "F-team" for obvious reasons, try to pinch pennies is outrageous. All of the teachers have been without wetwipes for over a month now, with no way to clean the tables in the classrooms. Something that the ajummas do not do and is the teachers' responsibility. Oh and what better way to save a dime than to tamper with teachers' pay? Almost every teacher has had to fight about mistakes made on their pay stubs recently. Unintentional? Unlikely.

Where do people grow up? I mean, aren't there some universalizable rules about appropriate ways to treat other human beings? Quite frankly, I could not care less if it is Korean culture to be authoritative, domineering, and abusive when holding a high position of employment. If that is Korean culture, then you can put me on record for saying that it is wrong. I may belong to the cultural mosaic that is Canada, and I can accept differences in beliefs. However, I cannot and will not attempt to accept this. Some things are not okay. Bring back the categorical imperative.

I feel like telling Sue that he has rights. He doesn't have to put up with being yelled at by men who have nothing to do with the position he holds. But to Sue, this is normal. This is all just part of the hierarchical structure that is business. Especially business in Korea.

I know Canada is not perfect, but I really miss it.

The Times They are A-Changin'.

My life, in these next couple months, will be turned upside down and inside out.

Most of these changes are exciting. Some a little scary. All quite huge.

July 24th - My last teaching day in Korea.

July 26th - Fly to Canada.

July 27th - Arrive in Canada. I'll see my nephew for the first time and all my family for the
first time in a year. Also, I will be buying a car at this point.

August 1st - Fly to Toronto.

August 2nd - Fly to Cuba.

August 5th - Wedding day in Cuba.

August 5th to 9th - Honeymoon in Cuba. (I never understand why people ask: "Are you going on a honeymoon?" Immediately after I inform them of my wedding in Cuba).

August 9th -Fly back to Canada. My parents will staying in Toronto and then moving to
Nunavut with the Polar Bears for a couple years.

August 11th - Leave to drive across Canada. This should take around 8 days. I like to think of
it as an extended honeymoon.

August 26th - My first day at a new job, teaching music and grade 3. So I have from around the 19th to the 25th to get settled into a new community and house.

August 28th - Craig's first day at a new job, teaching high school chemistry, physics, and general science.

August 31st - I turn 24.

Hopefully things will be a little less crazy after my birthday, but I highly doubt it. Getting used to a new job and work environment usually takes me a couple months.

Life truly is a roller coaster! And I'm hanging on tight!

How Our Ancestors Screwed Us Over.

I see it every day. It's cruel and barbaric. I have been conditioned to avoid prematurely announcing causation factors, but it is quite possibly correlated in some way with every documented war in the history textbooks. I believe this.

Sleep deprivation.

Remember Maslow's hierarchy of basic needs? Before I am a teacher, a daughter, a sister, or a fiancee, before I am even a girl - I am a human. That's it, a homo sapien like everyone else. I'm just an organism that has a few requirements which have to be met before I can function as anything beyond human. Sometimes the world refuses to let me fulfill my needs. Sometimes the world just won't let me sleep.

Each morning on the subway I am surrounded by masses of Koreans. On these mornings I realize that though we were born and raised in two completely different cultures, we have at least one major similarity: We're all sleepy people.

While my eyes start to get heavy and my mind reaches that place somewhere between real life and Lala-Land, I feel pity for the sleepy subway people. Or perhaps it's more empathy than pity. As I look around, I reach a new understanding. Adults do not exist. I see the girl with her head thrown back and the line of drool running down her perfectly made-up face and decide that no matter how hard she's working to be an adult, she's still a child who just wants to take a nap. I look at the bobble-headed man who eventually makes a pillow of a stranger's shoulder, until said stranger gets disgusted and moves to another seat. I feel for the man. He's just an exhausted organism, after all. The world can't cut him a break.

Have you ever wondered how many important world decisions have been made by a sleepy person? By a person who got only 2 hours of sleep the night before because there was a mosquito buzzing in his/her ear? You know, maybe a little sleep is all the world needs. Rest can do wonders for your decision-making ability. If I go to bed angry but I get a good night sleep, I can easily wake up happy as a lark.

I blame our ancestors. Someone, somewhere along the way, really dropped the ball on this one. Once upon a time some damn overachiever thought it would be great to start work at 8 or 9 a.m. (or earlier) and go until about 5 or 6p.m. (or later). Where is the justice in that? This system has obviously failed and made our lives into a coiled slinky of work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep. The work portion gets too much emphasis and the sleep portion gets neglected most of the time.

I wish there was some kind of human rights law to support this. Something like: "No person shall enter the doors of their workplace (unless they work at home) before 10:00 a.m. or severe fines will be issued." Should we not have the right to feel rested?

So just go to bed earlier! You say. Well, when I get home in the evening I don't feel like going immediately to sleep. If I do that, when I wake up it will already be time to go to work again. I need a little "Laura" time every night. It's not necessarily that I think we should go to work later and then stay at work later. I just feel like we should spend less time at work in general. I can assure you that I am a hard worker - but 4 hours of productive time beats 8 hours of time spent wishing I had a bed in my classroom. It's quality over quantity, people!

And then every morning people across the world having to deal with being awoken by the most obnoxious and irritating man-made object in existence. It's not bad enough that people are being interrupted while in the middle of meeting a basic need, but it has to be a sound worst than Cher's: "Do You Believe in Life After Love?" blaring in your ears like a siren.

Which brings me to my next point, and one of my greatest fears. "My alarm clock didn't go off" is not a good enough excuse for missing work. If it was acceptable, people would use it all the time. But people just don't use it that much because they realize it won't be bought. What a helpless situation. Gosh, sometimes my heart just breaks for the human race. Imagine the scenario. You happen to use an electric clock. So you're sleeping and the power goes off in the middle of the night, resetting your clock when it comes back on. The next morning the alarm clearly doesn't go off, and you're screwed because you didn't set 10 "just in case" alarms.

I use a battery alarm clock but I am consistently worried about the battery stopping and sleeping right through class. To my director and co-workers this would look incredibly irresponsible and careless. Is that fair? If my alarm clock stopped working, would that really make me a reckless person? I am just a sleeping child, after all! I have no control over the batteries in my clock.

It feels like in general this planet yields no rights or respect for the sleepy people. It would have been nice if our ancestors could have taken some of these things into consideration and if Maslow's hierarchy of basic needs came into existence at a much earlier date. It would be fantastic if people had to worry about occupations, errands, and other routines only after all of the truly important stuff, like sleep, was out of the way. Perhaps future generations will go to bat for their children and cut working hours to add more sleepy ones.

Until then,
peace and good-night all ye sleepy people.

The Chronicles of Korea (Part II - Beauty is in the Eye of... the Caucasian??)

Do you see what I see in the picture to our left? Look carefully.

It's an eye of course, but don't be fooled. It's not just any old eye. If you really examine the picture, you will notice an "eye crease" which forms something that most of us call an eyelid.

In Korea, and I would assume many other Asian countries, this Walt Disney-esque eye phenomena is referred to as the "double eyelid." Where the double comes in, remains a mystery to me.

Did you know that this "double eyelid" that we just never think about is actually a symbol of beauty in Korea? As a matter of fact, many Korean girls that I have met feel quite dissatisfied with their eyes. Even after being here for a year, this still shocks me. It amazes me that something as unimportant as an eyelid could be cause for such concern in a little country like Korea.

In general, plastic surgery in Korea is very widespread and cheap. Aesthetic surgery clinics are so widespread because so many Koreans are unhappy with the way they look and feel pressure from a society that places more emphasis on appearance than any other culture I've ever heard of. Since there are so many clinics specializing in aesthetic surgery, there is lots of competition, which in turn makes prices cheaper. Which, also in turn, makes more people opt to get work done. Vicious cycle.

The correct medical term for double-eyelid surgery is: Asian blepharoplasty, which for some reason immediately makes me think of the Doctors blasting the Asian out of their clients.

I always feel quite uncomfortable when a Korean girl mentions my eyes. I'd like for them to understand somehow that they are beautiful without having to look more Western or change who they are. The amount of Korean women getting surgeries everyday to look a little less Asian and a little more something else is utterly ridiculous.

Just to backtrack a little bit, the Walt Disney company actually did bring some diversity to it's characters and it was manifested in the likes of a mermaid, Jasmine, Pocahontas, and even the Asian Mulan. You would think that in a land of little girls obsessed with Disney Princesses Mulan could be a heroine amongst the likes of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Snow White. But nope. Nobody ever picks the Mulan colouring pages. A girl with a tail and fin, sure. But a girl lacking a double eyelid? Never.

The Chronicles of Korea (Part I-The Case of the Crazy Cow)

Before I begin, I feel inclined to mention that I have some truly fantastic Korean friends. They are wonderful, wise, and kind-hearted people. In many ways I have noticed that the Korean culture is a more generous one than the Western. South Koreans have a great deal to be proud of and to celebrate. Making such a strong come-back so quickly after the Korean war, to name one example.

With that said, if my year abroad has taught me anything (and I would like to think that it has taught me many things), it has taught me that on several levels our ever-abhorred Western mentality is not as bad as I once thought. Hence the title: "Chronicles of Korea (Part I)" - I have lots to say about this.

Back in 2003, the United States identified two cases of mad cow. One in an American born cow, one in a Canadian born cow. This gave South Koreans a scare and caused the South Korean government to block the majority of U.S. beef imports. Five years later, the freshly elected President (as of February 25th, 2008), Lee Myung-Bak, relaxed restrictions so that American beef could once again enter the country and freely be consumed by South Koreans.

This has ignited outrage in the country and sparked vicous contempt for the new President. Koreans have not forgotten about the 2003 mad cow (or crazy cow, as they refer to it) incident. As a result, there have been these massive, obnoxious protest demonstrations on a regular basis since April.

Though I'm neutral I made my way out to a few of the early protests, just for the experience and heck of it. It was highly entertaining with long haired hippie-wannabees sitting in the middle of the street belting Bob Marley tunes and strumming on their six strings. At certain points I had to give myself a mental pinch as a reminder that it indeed had nothing to do with the Vietnam or Korean war, but instead was about beef. No, mad cow. No, two cases of mad cow that occurred five years ago that most North Americans have long since forgotten about.

In fact, the majority of people at the demonstration, like myself, seemed to be there for the social aspect of it. It felt more like a "let's hang out and shout a few chants" than a "we're angry at the government so let's bring 'em down!" There were kids everywhere, people were laughing, people were playing. Just another day at the beach.

Since then, the protests have gotten more violent and numerous. There was one night when I was feeling incredibly sick and could not take the bus to the hospital. The roads were closed due to the protests. Bus routes have changed due to the protests. Parents did not show up to my parent-teacher interviews due to the protests. I have to avoid leaving my apartment and life in general due to the protests.

They've gone a little over the top with it and now I'm feeling like... just don't eat the damn beef. I swear that 85% of these people are protesting just for the sake of protesting, not because it is a legitimate issue that is near and dear to their hearts. It seems more about them enjoying the sense of national unity which stems from a simultaneous hatred of the government.

To the many South Koreans who remain uninvolved, it must be somewhat of an embarrassment.
Even more of an embarrassment: U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice visited South Korea to discuss the abdication of North Korea's nuclear cooling tower only to be bombarded (no pun intended) with questions that revolved around the much more crucial and urgent issue of U.S. cattle.

It is amazing how genuinely unconcerned many South Koreans are about North Korea. I came over here with CNN facts pumping through my veins and thinking that the two countries were on the brink of another war or that the chance of getting nuked was not altogether impractical. The truth is, this is the furthest thing from most of their minds. Which is fine, as the threat seems to be much less than the media had implied.

However, to focus all the attention on an issue as minute as beef, to cause constant disruption in the lives of people who just do not care, and to completely defame a brand-spankin-new President to the point where I honestly just feel bad for the guy - seems a little excessive to me.

Perhaps I see bigger problems with the world than a few crazy cows from 2003. Maybe it's just me, who knows.

Youtube video of a mad, crazy cow protest.

The Introduction I Forgot.

Yesterday I was so excited by the novelty of this blog that I skipped right past the formal introductions. As a result I have already brought a sense of awkwardness to it. The first post deals with the beheading of Hitler and the second post will go on to introduce me. The queen of awkwardity.

My name is Laura, I am a teacher, I am a writer, my biggest achievement is making it to the ripe age of 23 in one piece. I’m Canadian born and raised, but at 22 after finishing my first degree I decided to take a break from Western culture and journey across the pacific to the land of Kimchi and the morning calm - also known as South Korea. I have spent my year teaching English among other things to young children in a Canadian school. Now, with two and a half weeks remaining, I very much look forward to my return to the mother land.

On August 5th, 2008 I will marry one of the greatest men on the planet (tied for first place with my father) on a beach in the Caribbean. We have done zero wedding planning (other than picking out what we’re going to wear) so I’m sure it will be an interesting day. We’re kind of leaving everything up to the resort wedding planner. Just the way we like it. Pass the work off to someone else and forget about it. I suppose I fly in the face of the stereotypical bride in that I just want to show up and have everything ready. I haven’t dreamed about the day since I was a little girl, so I’m sure whatever the wedding planner decides will be fine.

I am quirky as is my fiance. It’s why we fit so well. We enjoy making fun of people and are easily annoyed. We like playing jokes on people and scaring them by jumping out at them from behind doors. Especially children. Have you ever scared a child? Hey, don’t knock it ’till you try it!

I am opinionated. I am passionate. I am passionate about writing. I am passionate about music. I love politics. I love discussing issues. I am down-to-earth. I am laid-back. I have a temper. I am competitive. I am 3 parts introvert and 1 part extrovert. I am a better writer than I am a speaker. I am compassionate. I am nerdy. I love to learn. I love to teach. I am afraid of everything. I take risks. I am obtuse. I am acute. I am a right angle. I am an equilateral. I suck at common sense math. I am genuine. I am whoever I say I am, in the paper, the news, everyday I am. I am bad at introductions. I hate small talk. Sometimes I hide from people I almost know in the mall. I am a small-town girl. I am stopping now.

Let’s figure this out as we go.

The Decapitation of Hitler

This week in the world…

A 41 year old man from Berlin ripped the head off of Adolf Hitler. The wax version, of course. It all went down in Berlin at the opening of the new branch of Madame Tussauds.
It was an act of protest and quite frankly I fail to see why anyone should be surprised. Apart from the fact that he shoved two museum workers out of the way and damaged museum property, I myself am unsure as to how I feel about a wax depiction of he whose very name represents hate and death.

While I understand that Hitler was, is, and always will be a monumental part of world history (good or bad), on some level I know it will make me feel sleazy to see a shinier-than-normal Hitler with glowering eyes staring back at me if I ever make my way to Madame Tussauds in Berlin.

Perhaps within me there’s a subconscious belief that people like Hitler and Stalin have no place outside of history textbooks. Maybe my problem is that I think we should save the wax for the Mother Teresa’s and Nelson Mandela’s of the world. Maybe all Hitler wanted was to be remembered so widely when he was gone. Somehow, I worry that the borderline creepy unhumaness of wax Hitler will serve to humanize him more than he deserves.

If it wasn’t for the shoving and the damage to property, I don’t know, I might even agree with the man who did it. Who knows, perhaps upon arrival to Madame Tussauds I would get the urge to decapitate Hitler myself. However, the difference between me and this 41 year old man from Berlin is that at that point I’m sure my superego would slap my id in the face and I would just walk to the next exhibit.