Redundancy

I was just fired. For the first time in my life. They fired four teachers today, and the person filling in for me today (the last day of the term) was instructed to tell my students that I'm sick. Then I'm supposed to just disappear, as in I have to be out of my apartment in five days.

The company's lost a few million $$ already, and it's so puzzlingly, frustratingly mismanaged that the date of the company's failure will only be determined by how deep the owner's pockets are.

I'm not angry, and, truthfully, I've felt like my whole life was/is being filmed for an upcoming reality TV show. More than half of the teachers so far have been booted off the island. We all collectively refer to the workplace as "the show." I haven't properly written about work yet, out of paranoia - I've been reading a lot of Paul Auster lately, and he fucks with your head - that everything I do is being documented. Like the movie "Sliver," except there's a Korean/wannabee-American pushing the buttons. And he has hairplugs. And still aspires to be a Hollywood movie producer. In the action genre, "you know like Arnold Schwarzenegger type movies."

So I'll be homeless - again. My life keeps on repeating itself.

I know how to say "I'm unemployed." For men, the term translates to "empty hand." For women, "swan," as if they stay at home all day licking their plummage. "Baek su im ni da. hajiman nunmul eopsseoyo." "I'm unemployed. But don't have eyewater." The other man's ricecake is looking bigger.

Wish me luck.

xox

Languagee

When I teach more advanced classes, I try to get free Korean lessons for five or so minutes out of the hour. As long as the medium of conversation is English, my students don't really care and most seem to appreciate my fumbling attempt at learning Korean. When my students mumble something under their breath in Korean, I frequently ask them to write it down for me. Meaning, I've aced such phrases as "(what) in the world," "oh my god," and "I'm so freaking embarrassed."

For the past week, I've been devoting my energy to learning handy Korean idioms. In Korean, a book can be judged by is cover: "A rice cake that looks good also tastes good." Koreans don't have many patches of green grass and they're not a very pastoral people, but "the other man's rice cake always looks bigger." A rather harsh way to tell someone off is to say "Eat yeot (rice candy)," which my students say will almost certainly spark a fight.

I have a couple solid Korean jokes. I now introduce myself as Kim T'eol Bo - Kim "hairy dude" - and am getting the Korean side of my business card updated. This always draws a hearty laugh, and some of my students never learn my given English name. One of my students thought I'd said "Kim Winter Clothes," but they laughed at that as well - for whatever reason. Koreans always stand in the elevator facing the wall, eerily silent, and with their chins cocked up at a fifteen degree angle. When I tell my elevator joke, "Who farted?" - literally "who farted the fart?" - they sometimes chuckle. Cabbies like this joke the most, and they've taught me how to say "I didn't fart," which is hardly ever the case for me. In class, I also try out the "who farted the fart?" It's amusing in itself, but all the more when they ask how to say this in English and a sixty-year-old female pediatrician cracks a wide grin and writes it down.

I had a student with a runny nose. I took a stab and asked "do you have nose water?" Bingo. "Nose water" = "snot," just like "eye water" = "tears." I still can't express sadness or coldness, but I can say "I have heart pain" or "my heart is sick" and "I am a snowman."

The other day, in a bar, I was shooting pool with a friend. These Korean chicks wanted to take us on. I introduced myself as "Kim hairy dude," and she laughed on cue. Then she pantomimed that I am short, though I had a couple inches on her. Handy idiom: "The small pepper is spicier." Then I realized that my Korean was better than her English, which was a first in a social situation. Then we "talked" for an hour and a half and she was very generous with her tequila bottle. Then she asked me in Korean, "Do you have a girlfriend?" "I don't have." Then she answered in English, "Me boyfriend. You." Then she tried to compensate for her English skilz by giving me complete shit about my Korean pronunciation. This manifested in a five minute tutorial on "who farted the fart," which I'm pretty sure I articulate fairly well. Then she called me handsome and pantomimed that I have expressive eyebrows. She was mistaken, because my eyebrows didn't ask for the lapdance that followed, though they didn't especially object either.

I know only two colors, but I can feign color blindness. In Korea, I pretend to see the world in shades of yellow and blue. When I almost get hit in an intersection, I shout "[the traffic signal] is blue person! Eat rice candy!" Stupid cabbie, "can't distinguish between excrement and bean paste." Nor can I. They both look like dark blue gobs to me.

Last week, idioms involving rice cakes. This week, idioms of the nose: "Go and wipe your own nose." Bugger off. Mind your own bee's wax. "My nose is [three ancient Korean units of measurement] long." I have my own problems.