Dispatches - August 10, 2009

This past week has been full of excitement and anticipation for Fulbrighters. At this risk of sounding redundant, I will again beg forgiveness for a tardy post. For quite some time I wasn't sure if the light at the end of the tunnel was daybreak or a train heading my way. While I am reticent to speak - or write - too soon, today I feel a bit more confident in the former rather than the latter.

Today we sat for our Korean language final exam. Those that know this blog know my difficulty with Korean. Unfortunately not much has changed in this regard. If anything, I am putting the time in - much of my weekends and my weeknights in the past few weeks have been devoted to flashcards, vocabulary lists, and dialogue practice. I am certainly on the tail end of the curve within the program - a regular at mandatory study hours and I strongly suspect a running joke among the language teachers. And although I have yet to collect any dividends in terms of decent grades, I am confident that I'll turn a corner with Korean sometime in the future. I noticed a while back that I stopped Romanizing every character I read to ease translation - that was an encouraging step.

In past posts, I have noted the terrific personalities of everyone - to the person - in this program. I can lay the same claim for their aptitude as well. Every so often I am reminded that each person here - by the very virtue of their presence - was at the top of their class. Back in college I will admit that I almost always expected to be the most diligent student in the room. Here being bright is the status quo. It was novel to walk between coffee shops yesterday and at literally every spot bump into a classmate deep in their text with flashcards and dialogues spread about. I'm one of the night owls in the group, but I'm not alone - I often bump into friends in the lounges committing phrases and vocabulary to memory.

I sometimes wonder if being a few years out of school puts me at a slight disadvantage in terms of studying skills. It's a nice excuse, but between the difficult material and the hard work of my peers I can't lay claim to age as a mitigating factor. I also wonder if I'm getting a tiny taste of law school - being surrounded by like-minded students all diligent and present for a reason. Wherever I fit into this group, however, I remain very grateful to call myself a member.

The language test wasn't the only event occupying our calendar this weekend, however. On Saturday we took a trip to the DMZ - or demilitarized zone - that divides North and South Korea. Throughout my time in Korea, I have asked numerous citizens if and how they think about their neighbor to the north. The answer has been unanimous - rarely and with little concern. Before the grant, I considered the DMZ trip to be within the very top of my interests upon arrival. We took two busses early in the morning on a winding, two-hour ride north. Hairpin turns and constant acceleration and deceleration didn't sit well with many of my classmates, but when we arrived at the observation post, the views were worth it. I was slightly disappointed that this DMZ location was not the UN building where visitors can actually cross into the North for a few steps and see North Korean soldiers in person, but what we were able to see was a series of fences and lines carved into the mountains as they stretched to the horizon. Through a telescope a North Korean post was clearly visible. A diorama helped clarify the view, but exactly which peak was the North and which was the South was still ambiguous to me. A lieutenant gave a short talk and we were instructed multiple times to refrain from taking pictures directly of the North - apparently they are watching us (we had a dress code for the trip and all looked presentable).

By virtue of the busy schedule during orientation, I have been unable to follow U.S. - let alone world - affairs to any extent. I feel very uninformed, but this trip was a surreal reminder of the very real nature of the conflict still living on in my new home.

And on the note of a new home - a week ago Tuesday we received our final locations via 'Placement Day'. In a ceremonial gathering, each ETA (English Teaching Assistant) was announced via province and given details about their school and their students. We then placed a small post-it style note on a large map of Korea. The entire program was abuzz with excitement as we were finally given some direction as to where we will be for the approaching year. It is hard for me to contemplate that I have only been here for slightly more than five weeks - there are 50 left that will be spent in a completely different capacity than that to which I have grown accustomed during orientation.

Emotions ran high as ETA's discovered how close to Seoul they were - proximity to the metropolitan capital of Korea is a coveted placement. What's more, wishes were either granted or dashed as classmates discovered where their close friends were placed and how easy or difficult it would be to visit. I noted in an earlier dispatch that I was somewhat ambivalent to my placement. I see merit in both rural and urban locations and close proximity to other ETA's and relative isolation. That being said, I am very happy with my placement. Less than an hour via bullet train from Seoul, my city of Cheonju will also be home to several of my close friends from the program. This Friday we leave Chun Cheon and orientation for Seoul and introductions to our principals. From there we part and are taken to our homestays and the beginning of the primary motive for our grant. My emotions remain bittersweet about leaving orientation - I am excited to embrace the full nature of the Fulbright in Korea, but saddened to part with such a terrific group of people.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't mention a recent episode for my friends in medical school. A few weeks ago I landed on my left foot awkwardly during Tae Kwon Do practice. I didn't know it at the time, but that would be my last practice. After a solid two weeks spent favoring my foot and expecting it to fix itself, I decided to visit a clinic to insure that nothing was broken and thus healing improperly. A fluent speaker and member of the orientation coordinator team took me and helped facilitate the dialogue between the medical staff and myself.

Suffice to say that I was extremely impressed - from door to door (literally taking a taxi from my dormitory and returning in the same fashion) - the entire visit took no more than one hour. I had two x-rays taken, consulted with a doctor, and picked up some medication - all within an hour. The grand total for the visit was staggering - 17,000 won. No need to get out your calculators - that translates to less that $15.00. No - no misplaced decimal - that's fifteen dollars. I have yet to research how this makes any semblance of economic sense - I suspect heavy subsidies - but I hope to report back (and walk normally) in the near future.

In the meantime, many thanks for reading. I'll sign-off once again with a brief introspective glimpse. Before departing for Korea I often pictured my time here spent in relative isolation - alone with my thoughts. Despite being surrounded by people - being unable to understand them can be just as lonely as isolation outright. Orientation has been like figuratively dipping my toes in the water - I'm isolated, but surrounded by seventy peers who speak the same language I do and share quite a bit in common. I am interested to see if I sink or swim when - in a week - I stop testing the waters and dive in.