My Massive Birthday Dinner

I turned 25 on February 17th. For my birthday dinner, some friends and I ate at D'Maris, a high-end buffet restaurant. I have eaten at this place a few times before and it ranks very high on the list of restaurants I've been to. The price for a dinner there is around 35000 Won (~$31), which for me is a bargain.

This is what went through my head as we were being walked to our table during my first trip there:

"Wow! Fancy. Damn there are a lot of tables. I see food. That looks really good. Are we really still walking? More food. Nice aquarium. How far away is our table? This place is really nice. More food. I am so ready for this."

The variety of foods offered at this place astounds me. There's steak, crab legs, roast beef, smoked salmon, tropical fruit, an extensive salad bar, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean foods, a variety of breads, cakes, pies, cookies, cheeses, and crackers. You can watch all of this being freshly prepared by the chefs behind the food stations. 

In addition to the great food, D'Maris is clean and beautifully decorated. From the food to the chairs, everything looks high-quality. The restaurant is also enormous; able to seat over 500 people.

Normally I am able to eat quite a bit of food, but a couple hours before my birthday dinner I had ran over 30km. When I arrived, my appetite was particularly voracious:

Smoked Salmon, Grilled Vegetables, Grilled Fish, 

Honey-Garlic Sausage and Potato Salad, Sweet Corn, Teriyaki Chicken.

Shrimp, Salmon, Crab, and Eel Nigiri Sushi. Tuna, Cheese, Vegetable, Fruit Rolls.

Sweet and Sour Pork, Fried Rice, Egg Noodles, 

Honey-Garlic Chicken, Caramelized Sweet Potatoes.

Fried Chicken, Fried Fish, Tempura

Shrimp Salad, Tomato-Basil Salad, Grilled Vegetables, Korean Dumpling,

 Korean Pancake, Cheese Pizza, Pepperoni Pizza

Cheese Pizza, Pepperoni Pizza, Grapes, Apple Slices, Fruit Salad, Purple Mangosteens

Waffle, Bread, Coffee Cake, Chocolate Cakes

Cookies, Bread Pudding, Cheese Cake, Chocolate Roll, Ice-Cream

More Chocolate Cake and Ice-Cream

After eating all this food, I wanted nothing more than lie down and take a nap. That's exactly what I did when I got back home. What a great meal.

The Dragon and the Rabbit

I have a friend. Her name is Kasham. In November of 2010 I was invited to her birthday dinner by a mutual friend. From our first interaction I could tell that she was special. She came up and introduced herself and thanked me for joining the celebration. I apologized for not having brought a gift. She laughed. “We only just met.”

Kasham had previously worked in Ulsan, but now she lived in Seoul. She had come down to her Korean “hometown” to celebrate her birthday with friends. She had many and I could tell that they all thought highly of her.

As time passed, we began seeing each other more and more often. I would look forward to our visits with great anticipation. I knew that a weekend spent with her would be filled with laughter and delicious food.

On the surface, Kasham and I are very different people. If we were involved in making a movie, Kasham would be the star of the show and I would be behind the scenes. She is socially fearless and daringly honest about herself. I could choose ten random people and their combined personality wouldn’t be able to match hers. I’ve met very few people that are able to make me laugh the way that she does. I’m happy just being around her. I have always had trouble letting people close to me. I have barriers in place, vestiges from my past that protect my feelings from getting hurt. Kasham was able to break through them quite effortlessly.

Despite any superficial differences, I feel that we are alike in some important ways. Kasham has attitude of gratefulness that I can very much relate to. I love how much she loves life. She is someone that understands how fortunate we are to be alive. One morning while I was staying at her place, she shared a very personal story of how she had overcome some demons in her past. To me, that was when our bond was cemented. She has an appreciation for life that I feel is difficult to achieve without experiencing great pain and darkness.

I painted these pictures and wrote this poem for her. It’s about an encounter between a timid rabbit and a powerful dragon. Although hesitant at first, the rabbit is soon captivated by the dragon’s charm. The two become friends and together head off on a journey. Along the way, something happens to the rabbit. Being in the dragon’s presence has changed him forever. The two part ways at the end, but the dragon will always be in the rabbit’s heart. 

"The Dragon and the Rabbit"

"Down comes Dragon from the trees,

As the rabbit looks quietly.

Face to face, eyes now meet,

Rabbit can feel the dragon's heat.

Timid Rabbit does not hide,

He's not afraid, but mystified.

A change occurs from deep within,

The dragon has a knowing grin.

High above the two do soar,

Rabbit views life in a way not before.

Comes the time for their paths to part,

But Dragon now lives in Rabbit's heart."

Kasham was born in 1976, the year of the dragon. I was born in 1987, the year of the rabbit. I feel that both of our characters match these animals quite well. Kasham’s personality is larger than life. She is courageous and strong. I am quiet and shy, preferring to go unnoticed. 

Soon I will leave Korea, but Kasham will stay. I am going to miss her deeply. I hope that one day our paths will cross again. 

Humility

Is there a more challenging sin to overcome than pride? As much as I've tried to silence and expel the ego, it has managed to announce its presence time and time again. This frustrates me because I believe that practicing humbleness plays a critical role in my personal development. Moreover, I worry that if one day I managed to overcome my pride, I would feel very mighty for having done something that not many others could.

With that said, here are a few of the actions I taken to cultivate humbleness. 

Avoiding Judgment of Others

I make an effort to be as non-judgmental as I can. When I catch my ego criticizing others for frivolous reasons, I try my best to put it in its place.

"How insecure you are to be judging (him, her, them) for that. Why do you care so much about something so unimportant?"

I feel that much judgment is born from fear. People judge others for the way they look, what they do, and how they think probably because they fear looking, doing, and thinking that way themselves. When I notice that I am being judgmental, I try to analyze why. I ask myself what I am afraid of.

For much of my youth I felt very judged by others. I feared even greater, far more vicious judgment if they knew who I actually was. It was a venomous feeling and it would truly upset me if I was responsible for making another feel that way.

Not Needing to be Right

This is particularly challenging for me. There have been too many times in past situations where it wasn't enough for me to know that I was right. I had to make sure that the other person also knew that. It took me a while to realize how counterproductive this was when trying to build relationships. And almost without exception, the topic argued over wouldn't be of any lasting significance.   

If I'm ever asked for advice or my opinion, I usually don't give the "Do (x, y, z)" answer that the person who asked is looking for. I will often add the qualifier "...for me". I try to emphasize that what I'm describing is simply my experience. What works for me may not work for others. I realize that this may come across as indecisiveness, but I really feel that people need to reach their own conclusions independently. 

Thanking Others

When I receive help, I always try to ensure that the person who provided it really feels my appreciation. Drive, resourcefulness, and luck can only take me so far. There is so much that I couldn't have been able to do without the encouragement and support I've been given by the incredible people in my life. 

Contemplating Insignificance 

I am one of seven billion people on a rock hurtling through space around a massive nuclear reaction known as the sun. Without the energy from this giant inferno in space, nothing I love would exist. And although the sun has given me... everything, it is only one of 100 billion stars in "our" galaxy. On top of that, there are over 100 billion galaxies in the observable universe. 

It's difficult for my ego to become inflated when I think of how stupefyingly small I am.

Conversations with Myself and the Amazing Gift

Whenever I dread doing something that I know needs to be done, or when I’m feeling lazy and unmotivated in general, I will often use a particularly effective tactic to get inspired. I’ll imagine a conversation with my future self. This future version of me possesses skill, ability, experience, and knowledge that far surpass my current levels.  He’s what I aspire to be.

 

“Why are you just sitting there?” he’ll ask. “You have work to do.”

“I’m so tired and I’m not feeling…”

“Stop!” he commands. “Your inaction will cause me to be weaker, slower, and duller. How could you possibly allow that to happen? You have a limited amount of time on this planet. The longer you wait, the more distant I become. Soon, I may be out of your reach entirely. I know this frightens you. Now, get off your ass and turn me into a reality.”

His words are very convincing.

During especially challenging runs, I remind myself that the body is not the same as the user of it. They are intimately intertwined, but remain distinct. The body is an incredible tool; a vessel that allows me to navigate and experience the physical world, but it is not me. It is not the “I”. I’ve found minor aches and pains become far less noticeable when I view my body in this way. I’m not in pain. The body is just experiencing an uncomfortable side effect that occurs when it’s pushed to its limits. The more I practice this way of thinking, the more I’m able to tolerate.

My body is a living machine capable of self-repair and improvement. Unlike lifeless, metal and plastic tools, my body strengthens and becomes more efficient with use. It is also the only thing I know that I’ll be able to keep throughout my entire life. Anyone and anything else can be taken from me at anytime. I get to keep this body until my time is up. Some people spend thousands of dollars upgrading and renovating their cars and houses, without investing any resources on their first and far superior home and vehicle.

Time will eventually wear my body down and I know that one day it won’t be able to do the things that it can do now. So today I am going to show my appreciation for this amazing gift and go make use of it.  

My Korean Apartment

I thought I'd make a video tour of my apartment in South Korea. I remember the night that the principal and head teacher of my school brought me here. I stepped inside my room without first taking off my shoes. They looked at me as if I had just strangled a kitten. "I'm sorry!" I said as I rushed back to the entrance to remove them.


I initially thought it was quite small, but the size of this apartment is very typical for a single person here. I've come to realize that there is more than enough room for me. It's fortunate that I am not a hoarder. The space for clutter is not available, and I have no problem with that.

By far the greatest drawback (for me) of a place this small is the lack of counter space. I had to move my computer desk into the kitchen so that I had a surface to prepare food on. I also really miss having an oven, but I've found that a slow-cooker can be used to make a surprising variety of meals.

The Joy of Grocery Shopping

I enjoy looking at, shopping for, and ordering food. I take my time when reading a menu, even if I've been to the same restaurant a dozen times before and  know exactly what I'm going to get. I read and re-read the descriptions of the dishes. I don't toss a flyer away before studying every food item that is advertised. I will saunter through a farmer's market with no intention of actually spending money. But the food/shopping experience that I enjoy most of all is a trip to the grocery store.


I usually begin my adventure in the middle of the store where all the boxes, cans, jars, and other packaged goods are kept. Little of what I purchase comes from this section, but I still enjoy browsing over the various products; looking at their interesting package designs. I'll pick up some tomato sauce, canned corn, green tea, peanut butter, canned mackerel, and any spices that I'm running low on before moving on.


After that I make my way towards my favorite part of the building; the produce section. It's the natural colors that draw me in. Every shade of the rainbow is represented and it's all beautifully arranged. It's as if I'm walking through art. Once I descend from the initial aesthetic wonder, I begin adding items to my cart. As I pick up the different vegetables I think about the nutrients they contain. Red cabbage for the anthocyanin polyphenols, carrots for the beta-carotene, garlic for the allicin. I know and appreciate how these nutrients will nourish my body and mind.


I enjoy thinking about the meals I could create with all of the options that are in front of me. "Maybe I'll make a broccoli salad with slivered almonds and dried cranberries. What about mixing grated carrots with pineapple chunks, raisins, and coconut? I could make a stir-fry with these bell peppers, sugar snap peas, and some ginger. Hmm..."


I'll then walk towards the seafood section. "Wow! Those salmon steaks look incredible. They'd taste amazing with some creamy dill sauce." Next comes the meat and poultry. I look at the package of skinless chicken breast as a blank canvas for me to paint on. Finally I'll go down the frozen food aisle and pick up some anti-oxidant rich blueberries.


I pay for the groceries and leave the building happy. I just bought a bunch of art supplies and now it's time to create. I'll then get the added joy of being able to eat what I made.


After putting away the groceries I feel an ancestral contentment. I have food. For the time being, everything is fine. I do realize just how far removed I am from the true experience. I didn't gather or grow any of the vegetables or slaughter and butcher any of the animal flesh I just purchased conveniently from a store, but the feeling remains.

A typical grocery haul.

Teaching in Korea

I have been teaching English in South Korea since July of 2010. Both of my parents are teachers and I have always had a great respect for this profession. Here I will describe the good, bad, and ugly sides of my experience, placed in reverse order because I like ending on a positive note.


The Ugly


I work in a private school ("hagwon" in Romanized Korean) and I've often been made very aware that I'm working for a business. Education certainly takes a back seat to profit at our academy. The principal has zero teaching experience, but that doesn't prevent her from being hyper-critical of what she views as mistakes made by the teachers. She is a very proud woman that does not want to be questioned. She has fired teachers for frivolous reasons and has burned many bridges. Unsurprisingly, the Korean teacher turnover rate is very high at our school.


The Bad


Korean children are worked incredibly hard. Every second that they aren't taking lessons is viewed as a waste by their demanding and competitive parents. "Teacher Greg, my didn't do homework. Very busy. Me go elementary school. Then piano school. Now Englishee academy. Next science hagwon. My go taekwondo after. So, so, so, sooo tired." I'm thinking, "God damn. How are you still alive?"


This is more of an observation on Korean culture in general than their education system specifically, but there are no sick days here. I'm still looking for them. They've got to be out there. If you miss work, you had better be having surgery performed on you. Then once you're stitched up, it's time to go back. I'm being factitious, but only slightly. Working while ill demonstrates dedication, hard work, and loyalty to your colleagues, boss, and company. The students too will rarely miss school due to sickness. They're sent coughing, sneezing, puking, and wiping snot over everything they touch, spreading their germs to anyone near by. 


The Good


With that bit of negativity out of the way, I'll now share the brighter side of my experience and describe what caused me to renew my contract. 


The bond that I've created with my students is something that I hold very dear. During the week I spend more time with some of them than they do with their parents. I feel that we have grown quite close. I am very aware that I'm in a position where I'm able to have a great influence on their development as human beings. This responsibility is something that I take with extreme seriousness. I try my best to encourage curiosity of the world around them, cooperation with those they interact, and confidence in themselves. I tell them that I love them and I mean it with every bit of my heart. 


Normally, teaching contracts here are for one year. I was asked to renew mine for an additional eight months so that I would stay until the end of their school year. It wasn't long before I had made my decision. I was enjoying my time too much to say "no". 


Even if it's comes gradually, I love to watch their abilities expand and develop. I'm constantly amazed by how much they know. I hope that I've taught them well. I know that I've learned a few lessons from them. They've increased my patience and forced me to become a better listener. They've also really helped me take myself less seriously. I now understand that it's O.K. to (sometimes) act like a goof in front of others. Life can be very fun. After spending so much time with children, the realization that I am most grateful for is of how strongly my desire to be a father is. I cannot envision a future without children of my own.


All of my students are special to me, but admittedly there are a few that I feel particularly close to. One cute, little girl named Amy likes to give me hugs and hold my hand. She's mischievous, but it's so damn adorable that I let it slide. She has yet to develop the confidence to speak out as often as her classmates, but she always writes little notes for me. During one class while printing something on the board, I turned around to find her crying. She looked absolutely devastated. "Amy, what's the matter?" I asked crouching down beside her. She showed me her broken pencil case. It wasn't actually broken at all. The lid had just snapped out of place. I quickly fixed it and gave it back to her. I'll never forget the look on her face. Later on I saw her writing on a small piece of paper. As I was knelt down beside another student, I felt a little hand slip a note into my shirt pocket. I turned around and saw Amy dash back to her seat. I pulled out the note. It read, "Thank you Teacher Greg for fixing my pencil case. I like you Teacher Greg. If you go to Canada I am sad. Love Amy." 

Amy and I.

The student that I feel strongest about is a boy named Alex, the son of the principal at my school. Alex was here when I arrived. I was my school's first foreign teacher and he was my first student. When he graduated from my kindergarten class in February 2011, the principal asked if I would continue teaching him privately during two of the afternoon classes. I happily agreed. 


Alex has a difficult time interacting with other students. He can be very impatient and quick to anger. I feel his great frustration but I'm unsure of the exact reason behind it. He likes to play alone. He tells me that other students are too noisy. In many ways Alex reminds me of myself. 


During our classes together, he really enjoys talking about the newest scientific material he's learned about. He's fascinated by topics such as space, magnets, robots, and time travel. I combined the topics he loved discussing then wrote and illustrated a book for him. It took me several months, but I was happy with the finished product. The story was about a boy that wanted to relive his previous school year (something that Alex wanted), so he built a spaceship to search for a worm hole that would take him back in time. Along the way the hero encounters aliens who just so happen to speak perfect English. I wasn't aiming for scientific accuracy. 

The end result of months of work.

I remember the day that I gave the story book to him. "For me?" he asked. I nodded. He held the book with arms outstretched and then carefully set it down on the table. He sat in his chair. He gently turned the first page and gazed at the illustration. After he had seen each picture he looked up to me and said, "I think this book is the number one book in Korea." Hearing him say that was worth every single hour I spent making it. 


For a seven year old, Alex is remarkably deep. One unfortunate day his rabbit ate grass that had been sprayed with pesticide. It died from the poison. Later on, Alex began asking questions regarding death. I told him how I had felt when my grandfather died. "Teacher Greg, when you a grandfather and you almost die, I want to cut me in half and give you half my energy so that you don't die. O.K.?" 


Jesus.


Alex has known for a little while now that I will be leaving at the end of this month. He has asked me a few times, "Teacher Greg, you can stay in Korea one more time?" I told him that it's been very long since I last saw my family, but that I'll write letters to him and show him around British Columbia if he ever gets the chance to visit. Saying goodbye to Alex is going to be one of the most difficult things I'll ever have to do. 


My teaching experience here has been overwhelmingly positive. There have been bumps along the way, but I'm sure that's true for most jobs. I've learned so much about myself and life during my stay and I've formed memories that I will carry with me for the rest of my days.