Why? I write to remind myself.

So why would I start blogging about Korea when we are still here in Canada and our plans to move to South Korea are more than seven months away?

One reason is because traveling, nay, relocating to the other ends of the earth, is (insert appropriate adjective plus exclamatory punctuation here) enough when done alone or as a couple, but it is a different game entirely when preparing to move as a familial unit: dad, mom, son (age 7 at departure time), and daughter (three and a half at DT). There are all the regular preparations to be done when moving overseas (immunizations, passports, visas, insurance, other assorted important documents, etc., not to mention the luggage), but it is now X4. Blogging on this topic is a good way keep a record of our family's preparations for our big adventure.

This leads to another question: why are we going to Korea, anyway? South Korea's a crazy place, with even crazier neighbours. The air is bad. Sometimes, people's habits and behaviours or beliefs range from bewildering to absolutely infuriating and unjust. Our family and friends are all here in town with us, for the most part. We live in a good neighborhood, generally safe, close to conveniences. I have a pretty decent job that I quite like; I never dread going to work, I like the people I work with, I like my actual work (teaching English for Academic Prep at a university), with a good pension and benefits plan. The air is clean. We don't have a lot of money, but we're able to afford not having to pay for daycare so that Matthew can stay at home with the kids, namely just Roo, since Bo is in school all day. (The benefits of being able to afford having a stay at home parent with kids when they're young is invaluable... a topic I'll cover at a later date). We have a Subaru station wagon (white, not too flashy, especially in this neighborhood!), and we live in a cul-de-sac with little traffic. We rent in a neighborhood where we could never even begin to imagine being able to afford to buy a home, a quieter area with winding, unnecessary roads.

Yet, as the years pass, we realize we're settling, albeit uncomfortably so, into a life that neither one of us had dreamed was for us. We're realizing that our grand dreams of travel, of exploration and adventure, of education for our children, are going to pass if we continue to just settle for our present life. We continue to feel itchy and restless because we've seemed to have done exactly that, settled into the suburbs, and into a life that neither of us dreamed for ourselves.

Life seems good. It is good! But perhaps the biggest reason we want to leave this life is because we live among people from a culture with values and beliefs, in many cases, in opposition to our own. The vast majority of the upper-middle class who surround us, and, it seems, our entire culture, value money or the evidence of that money by way of a variety of possessions, instead of time with their children. Actual time spent with their children, as opposed to the time spent working in order to provide iPods, or other devices for distracting their kids' attention from the real world. Time spent teaching their children how to be disciplined and hard-working, positive and well-behaved people who know how to interact with others in the world. To impart upon their children an appreciation for the things they appreciate by spending time doing these things with them... cooking, music, art, sports, gardening, etc.

I am referring to the people who work so desperately hard to fit an image in order to garner the respect and admiration of others around them (by flaunting an existence of wealth by owning a certain amount of property, owning more than one car, outfitting their kids with the proper accountrements of a "Jersey Shore"-obsessed youth - just watch South Park's "It's a Jersey Thing" for their own unmistakable commentary - and so on and on and on...), instead of the respect and admiration of their husband/wife and children.

It would be naive, if not downright stupid, to think that "moving up the ladder" is not present in Korea. In fact, "keeping up with the Kims" is fiercer than the North American "Joneses." So why move us all to Korea? Because the fact remains that we are not Korean, and we will never fit there. We have no desire nor expectation of fitting into Korean society and keeping up with it. We do, on the other hand, feel intense pressure to fit in and keep up with the society and larger culture to which we belong now. And it really doesn't sit well with us.

If we don't prepare now, we will probably never go. We might stay in the suburbs where life is good enough, and we'll settle into becoming the type of people we swore we never would when we first decided upon spending the rest of our lives together.

There are other reasons why we've chosen Korea, such as being able to get quite a good job, and being able to save money, and being able to live overseas with our children, but the biggest is to live our dreams and make them come true. The first step is Korea, and then who knows where?! Possibly living in Israel, or learning how to do organic farming, or studying French in Montreal. And, or course, settling, when we are ready (in maybe 4-5 years, when Bo would be about eleven and Roo eight), into a house in a place (likely in Canada) that we can afford, where we can work at something we love, and where we are surrounded by a community with whom we feel a sense of belonging and solidarity. We might very well have chickens. We would need to have a large garden.

So to answer the original question - why blog? - I write in order to remind myself of keeping to our dreams and not settling, and to maintain an account of the process.

Same-Sex Marriage Debate in Class

For the past 2 years, I have taught English at a Canadian university. Over this time, I have taught hundreds of students, most of whom are Chinese. Among them, though, there have also been a few dozen from other countries, mostly from Saudi Arabia, but also a few from Latin America, Korea, Japan, and a few from Iraq (via Jordan). Now, I figure, simply because of the law of averages, I have had a few students who are gay.

One activity I do most every term in my class (after a few weeks, so that we have had time to develop a good rapport with each other) is a same-sex marriage "debate." I do this for a few reasons:
1) Same-sex marriage is legal in Canada, and people from other countries who are living here should know our stand on it
2) Some of the students I've had are undoubtedly gay, but are generally from countries that either a) don't acknowledge homosexuality as even existing, or b) don't acknowledge homosexuality as even existing, but if it does, it is a criminal offense punishable by imprisonment or death (mainly the "Koran Corset" countries, as opposed to the Bible Belt - although homosexuality is certainly most alive and kicking in Saudi Arabia).
3) It's good for students to cultivate empathy for others' points of view that they don't necessarily share, and finally,
4) it allows students to practice expressions for stating opinions and disagreeing.

So how do I do this activity? First, I tell the students a story about my best and oldest friend, whose wedding I attended a few years ago. The kicker at the end of the story is that instead of a bride and a groom, the wedding featured a bride and a bride. I let the news sink in for a moment, and observe the reactions, which range from "Wow, cool!," to general ambivalence, to disgust. Then I ask them for their opinions - for or against. Almost without fail, it seems, the students schooled in either Christianity (Korean, Latin American) and Islam are wholeheartedly opposed to the idea. The Chinese, (and Japanese, to a lesser extent) generally range from enthusiastic support to overall ambivalence. (In my class of 14 Chinese students this term, for instance, I had only one student opposed to the idea, and he is nearly 10 years older than the rest of the class - I don't know if age has anything to do with it at all, but I think a little while ago, there was a celebrity drag queen in China that drew some attention to the issue). Then, based on their opinions, I divide them into 2 equal groups (this works better is there is about a 50/50 split of opinion, but usually, because of the Chinese influence, it ends up being about 80% in favour of the idea). The students who are opposed are in one group, with the pro-same-sex group in another. I give them some vocabulary (homosexual, straight, bisexual, gay, lesbian) and then I then tell them they are going to have a debate... but they have to argue in favour of the opinion they don't actually have. So, in groups, they brainstorm reasons to support their arguments. Overhearing the brainstorming session the other day was particularly charming - this from a student struggling to find reasons to oppose it:

Student (making a triangular motion with hands): It's wrong for people who go to that place...ahhh...ummm.... (struggling for the word)... CHURCH! In that book... (lengthy pause)...

Student B: Oh, yes, I know... ummm... book, ahhh.... b,b... BEEBLE!!

Student A: Yes, BEEBLE!!

(By the way, what made this encounter even more charming was that there was no trace of irony).

So, after their brainstorming session, they pair up with someone of the opposing team, and argue their viewpoints - the person in favour generally comes out the winner.

After the debate, we talk a bit more, and I tell them my reasons for doing the activity; mainly, to understand that being gay doesn't make you an abomination, and that one of our rights as Canadians (and something to be proud of on the world stage, to be sure) is the right to marry the person we love, regardless of gender. The students are generally very interested and motivated, and will ask many questions.

The Resurrection of Kimchi-Lovin' Canucks

After more than a few years, I have decided to disinter this blog from its graveyard, if only in order to provide the anonymous world of the internet with my musings on anything that catches my interest. For the most part, I'll try to keep it Korea-related, although the connection may seem tenuous at best, if not entirely non-existent on other occasions.

The exhumation of Kimchi Lovin' Canucks, reborn with a new moniker, "Will Kill for Kalbi", is mostly a result of more than three years, three years of repatriation to Canada. Back here, Korea seems but a faint memory, distantly fading, becoming ever-more irrelevant and imbued with a dream-like quality of "did it ever even really happen?"

We spent eighteen months living in one of the many satellite cities that surround Seoul. To this day, if I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can recall the faces of the shopkeepers lining the street where we used to live, where we passed by daily, but these memories become fainter day by day, month by month. The smells, the tastes, and the sounds fade with time. Our friends here have long ago started to roll their eyes and share glances with each other when either Matt or I begin any sentence with, "Didja know that in Korea...".

Since we have been back, much has changed, as much tends to do when given the time and opportunity. We returned to Canada in the early spring of 2007 with our nearly-three year old little boy and the unwavering intention of heading back to Korea in the fall of the same year. But such was not to be at that time. Shortly after Matt and I spent a wild and wonderful two weeks in Europe that spring, we realized that we were to become parents for a second time around. With no jobs, no home and a brand-new baby on the way, we tried to find a new path in the whirlwind of change, exuberant joy and bitter disappointment.

It has been hard. It has been very hard.

People who have suffered from culture shock often claim that the worst part is the return to their home country. If they have been able to live abroad successfully and have been able to find a place for themselves in the new country, the return can be shattering. Such was our situation.

Newly-pregnant, having just returned to Canada from our own lives in Korea, and suddenly surrounded by the suffocating good-will and unexpected expectations of our extended family caused some major psychological fallout and ruptures in the fabric of our family. We very nearly didn't make it this far together. Many times over the past three years we have nearly given up on ourselves and our dreams for our own kind of life.

I could never say I would do it differently, though, because I think, all in all, it will make us stronger in the end. And, most importantly, we have been blessed with a healthy, beautiful, amazing daughter, who will be three in December of this year.

And she loves bibimbap (sans gochuchang, of course).