Accept what comes from silence. Make the best of it.Communicate Slowly
joshyhawd
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Name: Josh
Country: Cameroon
Metro: Yaounde
Birthday: 12/22/1900
Gender: Male


Interests: Playing music, literature, films, Jesus Christ, listening to music, poking obese midgets with blunt objects, being outside, road trips, missions, and pants.
Expertise: Being awesome, teenage mutant ninja turtles, 80s metal, goldeneye, Ramones trivia, Saturday Night Live, and Pants.
Occupation: Education/training
Industry: Education/Research


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AIM: jeremyisanerd86


Member Since: 10/9/2003

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Sunday, October 25, 2009

Currently
Church Music
By David Crowder Band
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Makgeolli is good for the large intestine.

On Friday I got to go on my first Korean field trip. We went to an international festival in Incheon, which is about an hour bus ride from our school.

It was definitely a great break from the day to day routine of teaching and sitting at my desk, planning for after school classes (which I'm now teaching every day).

After touring some of the exhibits all morning, we sat down for an awesome lunch of Korean BBQ. The men all ordered makgeolli, which is a type of rice wine/beer hybrid that is very tasty and has a very distinct flavor to it. 

After pouring me a bowl (and yes, it is served in a bowl), one of my co-teacher's explained to me-

"Josh-y, makgeolli is....eehhhh.....mmmm....good for the....eeeh....mmmm.....large intestine?"

To which, I almost spewed my makgeolli mid-drink back into the bowl. 

He continued (quite seriously, I might add)-

"You see, many times-ah, eeeeh.....there is, a kind of, blockage....where...you cannot expel waste-ah!"

I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I was trying so hard to keep it together and not break down in laughter, because to the middle aged Korean men who were sitting around the table, this was a serious topic of conversation that should be taken seriously.

And then he asked-

"How can you say this in English-y?"

I was biting down the corners of my mouth to keep from cracking up. I cleared my throat and offered the word-

"Constipation."

Hoping somehow this would end the conversation. But apparently, "constipation" is a very interesting sounding word to Koreans, and they all repeated it with great delight. And then, the co-teacher who had initially introduced the topic of colon blockage to our dinner table conversation pulled out his pocket electronic dictionary and typed in the word, to which a computerized voice repeated over and over-

"Constipation, constipation, constipation, constipation."

It was at that point I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face. They couldn't understand why either. But even after my meltdown, I had to explain to each of them the verb forms of the word, as well as their appropriate use in a sentence.

"Soooo...." My co-teacher concluded at the end of our very unique vocabulary lesson.

"Makgeolli is good for...con-sti-pa-shun!!"

He smiled triumphantly as he folded his hands in his lap following his proud declaration.

I thought I was going to fall off my chair.

I'm learning something new every single day.

--Josh--   


Friday, October 16, 2009

Currently
No Man Is an Island
By Thomas Merton
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Weekend Smeekend.

I need a couch.

Every night I talk to Jenni on skype while I'm lying on my stomach, or sometimes my side. And it's really starting to hurt. No really. The muscles in the back of my head, my neck, and my shoulders are all knotted up and mangled like a Rold Gold pretzel. No me gusto. I need a massag-ee.

Work is going amazing, I'm still loving teaching ESL and Korea. This week has been absolutely crazy, due to the fact that I have after school classes every day. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the hardest. I teach clases all day, have an after school class from 4:00-5:30, and then another after school class at the girls high school from 6:00-7:00. Yowsers.

The girls' class is a lot of fun. They're so different from the guys and really want to hear about my girlfriend. The guys just want to talk about sports and "Megan Fox-ah!". 

My weekend plans just went through two major re-adjustments in the last 14 hours, so as of yet, I'm still not sure how I'm going to spend my off time. Hmmmm....I'll figure something out.

The book "No Man is an Island" by Thomas Merton is changing my life. I've read bits of it before, but for some reason I never really "got" it. I think now I've seen enough of what isn't love and what isn't life to understand that both require sacrifice. And Merton's thoughts on the subject are absolutely some of the most profound, God inspired musings I've ever considered.

Happy weekend everybody!

--Josh--


Monday, October 05, 2009

Currently
At Home with Owen
By Owen
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Happy Thanksgiving. Korean Thanksgiving (Chu-Seok).

Today, I'm sitting at my desk, working or pretending to find "work" to do so I can seem and feel busy and productive. All of students are taking their exams this week, as they did last week. I had Friday and Monday off for Chu-seok holiday, which is basically the equivalent of Korean thanksgiving. All the off time definitely brought about a different dynamic to my life here in Korea.

I started noticing how different the week was going to be last Wednesday as I sat down to eat lunch in the teacher cafeteria. There I was, minding my own and eating my rice and chicken like a good little foreign English teacher- when in walked a Korean teacher I had never spoken to before and grabbed me by the shoulder saying-

"Lets-ah go!"

To which I responded....

"Ummm.......?"

He then said something in broken English to the teacher next to me, who said-

"Ahhh, he say, you have office outing today! You must go with him to eat lunch with your office! Sooo, stop eating."

With that, he grabbed my plate, helped me up and together we dumped what remained of my first lunch into the garbage. I then followed him up the stairs and out into the parking lot where his car was waiting with another teacher in the front passenger seat.

We drove out of the city into God knows where in the Korean countryside. Both of the Korean teachers were speaking only Korean obviously, so after a half hour, I tuned them out and fell asleep in the back seat. I woke up at random intervals only to find us in random gravel parking lots, turning around and yelling out requests for directions in Korean. Apparently, my co-teachers read the expression on my face and explained-

"We're-ah lost-ah!"

To which, I fell back asleep.

Two hours later (and yes, I do mean two hours) we finally pulled into a restaurant near the ocean side where the rest of the office was waiting in a room upstairs. There were two long tables only about a foot off the floor where my principal, vice-principal, and various other coworkers were sitting on the floor on straw mats. The menu was raw fish, raw squid, raw octopus (that was still moving), and anything else raw and fishy.

As I sat down, the teacher who had stolen me away from my nice, comfortable lunch of edible chicken and perfectly normal rice (that now seem quite delicious in comparison to the fare laid out before us) asked me-

"Do you drink-ah soju??"

Ahhh soju. That mystic Korean beverage you could purchase by the bottle for the ever affordable price of 1200 won (about a dollar) at any restaurant, corner store, or gas station. Many people describe its taste as being something between vodka and ethanol. All I knew is that a few shots of soju after wild, stressful experiences (like the one I just had) suddenly made the world a little bit more tolerable, if you could tolerate the burn in the back of your throat and the smell of rubbing alcohol the drink strangely possessed.

As I was pondering my reply, I realized that the entire table had stopped eating and were now watching me intently to see what my response would be. It was a little nerve-wracking, knowing that the entire mood of the dinner could somehow all depend on how I answered the all important question. 

So, I cleared my throat, looked up at him, and declared every so distinctly so the whole table could hear-

"Like water!"

To which, the entire lunch party erupted in laughter and raised their glasses aloft declaring "Com-bay!!!" or "Olleh!!!" He poured me a shot of soju, to which I com-bayed and olleh-ed with the rest of the them, clinking my tiny shot glass with as many of theirs as I could reach.

The lunch lasted for two hours. I slowed down my soju intake after a few. A big motivation for slowing down had a lot to do with the fact that I had no idea where I was and there were only a few teachers there who actually spoke English. It must be tricky business, being in the middle of nowhere on the Korean coast, drunk with a bunch of teachers who don't speak English. So I took it easy, combay-ing and olleh-ing with water instead of beer or soju, while the rest of them just kept on drinking.

Pretty soon, most of their faces had a nice red flush, and the volume of the conversation interestingly enough grew louder. I looked down at my phone, and noticed it was around 3:30 PM. But the party didn't stop at the restaurant. I followed the teachers out of the eating establishment, walking behind them as they stumbled down the stairs and into their cars, where we drove to a teacher's summer home near the countryside for some more socializing.

Again, two long tables were taken out, and we all took our places on the floor. Fruit, dried squid, nuts, and again, wine & beer (but no soju) were poured as the teachers' conversation calmed down a bit and turned to something that seemed a bit more domesticated. I don't really know. It was all in Korean. I was having to follow along, acting interesting and engaged, having nothing to go on besides vocal inflections and laughter. When they all laughed, I laughed too. Although I didn't have a clue what about.

Eventually, I heard my name in the midst of all the Korean spoken. In Korea, people call me "Josh-y". Something about the Korean language makes saying "Josh" difficult, so they add the extra syllable without meaning to, thus creating "Josh-y". Which is funny, because this was the name given to me by my parents and siblings when I was a child. My family and closest friends still often refer to me as this, so it doesn't bother me a bit. It's just funny to me hearing my very somber, dignified principal refer to me as "Josh-y".

So I hear the word, "Josh-y" right as all of people at the two tables turn to look at me with great looks of excitement and amazement. "Ahhhhhh" they all said. I just grinned sheeplishly, wondering what on earth one of them was going to ask me to do.

"We heard-ah you were a musician!" One of them finally said.

Uh-oh. I thought about lying. "No no, you heard wrong. I'm a magican. Big difference. But unfortunately, I only do card and rabbit tricks, and there aren't any of either lying around at the moment, so I can't show you anything. Sorry!"

But with my luck, one of them would probably have pulled out a live rabbit and a deck of playing cards from their pockets and clapped their hands triumphantly as I blushed and cursed under my breath.

So I told the truth, and confessed to dabbling in a bit of music in my day.

"You must sing for us!!! You must-ah SHING for us-ah!!!" You-ah must shing for-ah us-sh!!!"

Before I knew it, I was being helped to me feet as they all clapped and smiled and cheered. The room then grew deathly quiet, as the only sounds I heard were the teeth of Korean smiles beaming up at the blushing foreigner who stood awkwardly in the front of the room, not knowing whether to run or laugh.

"Umm....ummmm....what do you want me to shing....I mean....sing??"

"Tears-ah in heaben!!"                                                             "Ummm, I don't really know Eric Clapton."

"My-ah Waay!!"                                                                         "Frank Sinatra? Really?"

"MY HEART-AH WILL GO ON!!!"                                              "No."

Finally, I settled on Let it Be, by the Beatles. It was the only song I knew by heart, and I knew that if I started into something to which I halfway knew the words, I would crack under the pressure and end up repeating the lines over and over. 

I closed my eyes and belted it out, not knowing what the results would be. After I had thoroughly butchered the classic ballad, I opened by eyes to see all fifteen Koreans clapping and cheering like they just seen Paul McCartney himself sing the song for the first time. I felt incredibly confident in my singing abilities as I sat down to hearty slaps on the back and excessive compliments.

For the next hour, each one of the Koreans went around the circle and sang songs. Mostly Korean ballads that sounded a bit like Mexican love songs I used to hear at the Los Reyes in Dalton when I was a kid. It was really funny how "shy" and "humble" each one of them pretended to be whenever it was their turn to sing. At first, each response was "Oooooh noooo! I couldn't possibly! Oh wow! No, I'm not prepared at all!" as they were nervously laughing and covering their face, but standing up and clearing their throat at the same time. And then, within a moment's notice, they were belting out a well-rehearsed Korean ballad without any hesitation or reservation in the least bit.

I was told later that it is customary for every social Korean to keep at least three or four perfected songs in their repertoire, so in the case of spontaneous singing parties (which apparently happen often), they will have something to sing.

The strange day ended with an hour and a half car ride back to Seoul. I was exhausted and absolutely mentally frazzled from having to seem engaged while I listen to Korean for almost six straight hours.

I was told that the next day would be less stressful, as I was going to the seaside with some of the English teachers to relax and get some more seafood.

I showed up the next morning at school with jeans, a nice button up shirt, and flip flops- pretty standard office casual half-day/Korean beach wear.   

All of my Korean teachers were dressed in hiking gear. Boots, leg warmers, hats, scarves, climbing poles, lyrca/nylon athletic pants, and north face fleeces.

"Ummmmm...." I said.

"Josh-y!" They said. Seemingly suprised and shocked. "Your shoes are not appropriate for hiking!"

"I....uh....I thought we were going to the beach?"

"Ooooooooh....but, the beach-y is next-ah to the mountains! So, we will go to the beach-y, and then- hiking!"

But of course. No beach day is complete without a brisk hike in mountains. When I think beach, I think climbing poles and hob-nail boots.

Long story short, the hike ended up being around 12 kilometers. Which, I don't even want to think about how many miles that is. All I know is that most of it was uphill, over sharp, jagged rocks and crevices. Throughout the course of our four hour hike, I split my big toe nail open, sliced the back of my heel, and scraped the top of my right foot. Blood was everywhere, but I did my best to hide it and keep pushing through.

The views were absolutely incredible.The mountains looked out over the ocean as the Seoul skyline rose over clouds which hovered below us.

In that moment, I was happy for all of the craziness and hilarity I had endured over my first Chu-seok. It was all part of the amazing experience of Korea and all the awkward but beautiful moments of living abroad.

I am blessed.

Even after the teachers took me out for more raw fish and got drunk and forced me to go to a singing room with them until 1 AM.

--Josh--  


Thursday, September 24, 2009

Currently
Gulag Orkestar
By Beirut
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The things I rearned from a Bob Mar-rey song...

I just became an overnight millionaire. Unfortunately, millions of Korean won are much different than millions of American dollars. Still, pay day was much needed.

Beirut is a band that makes me want to ride a motorcycle across eastern Europe with a helmet and goggles to a Ukrainian circus, complete with a picnic basket in a sidecar.

I've been having some problems with communication among the other Korean teachers at work. It's really difficult to express my frustrations with the schedule changing almost every single day at the last minute and having someone tell me right before I have to go teach. They just don't seem to understand how that would drive someone crazy. Yesterday one of my co-teachers showed up at my desk five minutes in my planning period, telling me in broken English that I had to go teach her class. "Go teach now, go teach now!" she said, as she shooed my away from my desk. If another teacher back home did that to me, I'd tell them no, and if that wouldn't do the trick, "accidently" spill my coffee on their lap. Oops. 2nd degree burns. Now, what were you asking again?

It's just differences in culture. I think it's unprofessional and the wrong way to do business in a school, but they don't, because this is always the way they've done it long before I showed up.

The American way isn't the BEST. Even if we think it is, it isn't. It's just what we've been conditioned to believe is the best. And I'm slowly discovering this as I find out what it feels like to really work and live abroad.

We are all different, each nationality and culture and race and creed- holding onto our various habits, customs, eccentricities, and values that we have been taught to believe are the right way to do things. But- we are all the same, regardless of where we are from, or what we believe. We all still have the same basic needs of any human being. We want to be loved, accepted, liked, and understood for who we truly are apart from any cultural definition or stereotype.

Human beings are complex, fascinating creatures. I just wish I was more patient and understanding. There have definitely been times in the last few days I've wanted to just shake a Korean or two and say,

"HOW DOES DOING IT THIS WAY MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL!!??"

But I'm sure they feel the same way about me.

One rove. One heart. Ret's get together and feer ar-right.

--Josh--


Sunday, September 20, 2009

Currently
The Tallest Man on Earth
By The Tallest Man on Earth
see related

The Five Worst Songs of All Time

This morning I climbed into my bus and shuffled into a seat near the front, surprised to hear that the driver had the radio tuned to a station that played American music. It was a welcome change from the all the Korean pop Ive heard over the past month every time Ive stepped into a bus or taxi.

 

The song The Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head was a perfect soundtrack to my morning commute, as the rain was coming down pretty hard and I watched all the Koreans scurry across wet crosswalks with their colorful umbrellas- pink ones, green ones, multi-colored ones with cute cartoon characters printed into the plastic.

 

Every thing was great until the song We Built this City on Rock and Roll by Jefferson Starship came on. I honestly considered throwing myself out of the bus and onto the pavement. Whenever Ive heard that song come on the radio before, I was able to turn the station and save myself. But not this time. I was held hostage to its awfully bad crappiness that made me literally want to gouge my eyes out with forks. If youve ever listened to the song all the way through, from start to finish, you know what I mean. It is literally one of the worst songs ever written, in the history of music. I started thinking, is there any worse of a song than this?  

 

So on the bus, I started thinking of other songs that had a similar effect on me. So, here it is, for your enjoyment, warning, and perhaps even amusement- my list of the five worst songs ever written.

 

5.Heaven by Los Lonely Boys.

 

First of all, this band sucks so hard they cant even decide in which language they want to name their band. Los Lonely Boys is like me saying, hey, um, Im hungry, can you pass el cheese?. Sorry, but FAIL. Secondly, the song itself has one of the most annoying hooks since Lambchops first premiered the song that never ends.  The hook first rears it ugly head in the opening notes where the singer so crappily croons SAAAAA-YAAA-VEE ME FROM THIS PRISON!!!/LORD HELP ME GET AWAY, which ironically, is exactly the same thing Im thinking whenever I hear this song. Im guessing part of the mass appeal to this song has something to do with its catchy rhythms and feel good guitar licks, which to me, sound like a really bad rip off of OAR and Santana, which for the record, both suck. I hate this song.

 

 

4.Take it on the Run by REO Speedwagon

 

So many people I know from my hometown that went to high school in the 80s or early 90s swear that REO Speedwagon was one of the greatest American rock bands of our day, but from listening to this song, it sounds like a band thrown together for a middle school talent show for the sole purpose of writing a ballad to get back at an ex-girlfriend. Just look at these amazing lyrics-

 

Heard it from a friend who/Heard it from a friend who/ Heard it from another you been messin’ around”

 

all to a sing song tune that sounds like “nanny-nanny-boo boo/stick your head in doo-doo” sang by a pre-pubescent boy with allergies. Just an awful song, in all aspects.

 

3. “If You’re Gone” by Matchbox Twenty

 

I often wonder how Rob Thomas came up with his singing style. I wonder if he was sitting alone at this house, practicing his vowels, when he decided that “A, E, I, O, and U” all just sound cooler when you sing them as “Ayaaah, Heeeeee, Eyyyyye, Hyoooo, and Yeeeeewwww”. He genuinely sounds like he’s physically in pain sometimes.And I have a hard time not doubting it when he sings-

 

“I think you're so mean - I think we should try”

 

I really wonder how that meant over, telling a girl that’s breaking up with him, “You’re so mean!” What a man, that Rob Thomas. So what else helps awful vocals, terrible lyrics to make a terrible song? Oh yes, a painfully bad horn intro. One of the worst songs of the decade.   

 

2. “It Happens” by Sugarland

 

The last thing I want to hear when I turn on the radio is someone who sounds like they have three teeth giving me a play by play of a really terrible morning.

 

Missed my alarm clock ringing
Woke up telephone screaming
Boss man singing his same old song

Rolled in late about an hour
No cup of coffee, no shower
Walk of shame with two different shoes on

Now it is poor me, why me, oh me
Boring the same old worn out blah blah story
There is no good explanation for it at all

 

And really, if I wanted to hear somebody talk like this, I could just drive down to a beauty salon somewhere in Tennessee and ask one of the ladies standing outside with her hair in rollers, smoking a parliament light what her morning was like. Terrible lyrics, terrible vocals. Just those two things earn this song a big doo doo stamp in my book.

 

1.       We Built this City by Jefferson Starship.

 

I dont really think I have to explain this, if youve ever heard it. You know what? I think this makes my case and point quite clear-

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxGGckAc1rs&feature=fvst

 

Enough said.

 

--Josh--



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