Korea - The first World DJ festival

Hello everyone!

Temperatures are rising out here. I've already had an insight into what my next three or four months of teaching might be like on Monday, when I taught an all-girl class in period 6, so a little while after they had ran their little hearts out at lunchtime. To say that energy was lacking would be the understatement of mankind. An abandoned morgue has more atmosphere. May need a lot of those cancerous coffee sticks over the summer to keep spirits high in the classes, though they were the only class that struggled.

In the weeks after midterms, the students have one sole focus - sports day. This fascinates me. What sports do they compete in? Does it get in the way of studying? Do they take it as seriously as we did in high school? Because we...well...didn't. I have memories of hopping over the brook to get out early. Sorry to burst the innocent bubble, Mum. Like in Whitchurch High, they compete as a class. Unlike Whitchurch High, they actually play interesting sports, such as football, basketball and dodgeball, in addition to the standard athletics ones. It has allowed me to reminisce and tell other teachers about funny school sports events - such as the egg and spoon race - and funny school sports stories - such as Ryan almost decapitating someone with a discus, and all of us getting a massive telling-off for laughing so much.

Sports Day is on May 20, but preliminary competitions start two weeks before. Academia rules in my school, so all of these take place at lunchtime. The ferocity and passion of their cheering is a good indicator of why they are all so tired in the afternoon. Maybe school should start serving them eel for stamina. Though I'm hoping the activity that eel gives you stamina for is not done on sports day...

So most lunchtimes of late I have been sat on the stairs surrounding the dirtbowl, or watched from afar in the gym, as the students have competed against each other in various team activities. At the moment, first grade boys play basketball and first grade girls play dodgeball, whilst second grade lads play footy and second grade lasses play...well, there is a name for it. In Korean it is 발야구. I'll try to describe it as simply as I can. It's baseball - played with a football. Not a proper football, but the kind of slightly-firmer-than-a-flyaway ball that you take to the beach. The ball is 'pitched' by being rolled along the floor, and the 'batter' kicks the ball and then tries to get to first base, a la baseball. Jokingly, I called it foot-baseball, only to find out later that that is the literal translation of the Hangul. I have no clue about the scoring system, though; that just confuses me.

I seem easily confused at the moment. Confused as to why I had to buy tickets for a South Korea football game in a bank. Confused as to why the combination on one of my place's security doors was changed without any consultation, which manifested when the new code I was given set the alarm off. Confused as to why gummi bears were an option in a salad bar we went to on Sunday. Confused as to why, in the same place, we ordered four very large pizzas for eight hungover, and not overly hungry, Westerners. The girl taking our order in Mr. Pizza was also confused, to the point where she returned to our table to check that the order was right. She was giggling as she left, and we were pondering why until we saw the sheer size of the pizzas.

Even in rude health we wouldn't have finished them, but no one was feeling 100%. Hardly surprising, it was a weekend after all. Saturday was fantastic, though. We woke up at a reasonable hour - well, I got a phone call a little before midday demanding I drag my lazy behind out of bed - so that we could bask in the glorious sunshine after commuting to our destination. Our destination? The Seoul World DJ Festival. Contrary to what I thought (why don't people realise how bad I am with directions?), it was taking place in a park near the World Cup Stadium, so we were soon enjoying the wonderful weather with a few beers on plastic chairs, with the giant football arena staring down at us. We'll be back next week for Korea-Ecuador, don't worry.

Whilst chilling in this area, an older Korean man came and sat behind us. He then started offering us soju and wanting to punch us in the arm. Very strange man. A younger street actually had to come over to tell him to stop annoying us, which was pretty nice of him. A short taxi ride later and we were at the festival, in Nanjihangang. 55,000W for a ticket wasn't too shabby, though Tom made a point of telling us that he managed to blag a free ticket through a friend.

So, the festival. DJ music from dawn until dusk and then dawn again. It's not usually my cup of tea to listen to, but at a festival it just seems to work. We watched a set by a guy called Ross, who is friends with a few people from Siheung. He was voted best foreign DJ in Korea last year, so probably deserved to be on a more primetime slot than 5pm, but at least we would remember it. Very good as well. The atmosphere was amazing, as it always is at festivals. Even the atmosphere at EXIT was quality until I got punched into hospital. We were a little bit surprised by the number of Westerners at this festival, but conversely also surprised by the number of Koreans. I guess we didn't know what to think, or what to expect.

Of these Westerners, I recognised quite a few of them from orientation, so hung out with them for a bit. We went to play on some African drums for a little while, before immersing ourselves in a pan-Asian DJ battle - Japan vs. Korea. Their hatred was put aside for this event, mainly because the little Japanese guy was sick at scratching the decks.

Soon I'd moved on to meet Alicia and Nikki, who had been getting their faces painted the whole time. And still were. Going for perfection, obviously. Still, strange that I could hang out with orientation folk, eat, play drums and watch a DJ battle in the time it took them to have a couple stars painted on their noggins. We went from there to be inked further, getting tattoos. Not permanent, don't worry. I am warming to the idea of getting another one, but have no clue as to what. Maybe something in Hangul.

After getting a henna pattern around my arm, we were heading back to the smaller stage (to be known from this point as the Jager tent, for the obvious reason that there was a Jagerbomb bar there) when I was dragged over to the dance area of the main stage by a girl I'd met earlier. This, save for randomly bumping into Tom much later on in the night, was the last point that I saw anyone that I had arrived with.

A lot of Jager and dancing later, and it is 3am, at which point I take my leave in a 30,000W taxi. It was a great night, full of awesome people, bizarre costumes and great music. I'd forgotten how awesome the festivals I've been to - Reading, EXIT, Sziget et al - were, and how great the vibe is at places like this. Everyone is there to have a good time. There is a rock festival in early August that would be just as good, if not better, but I'll be in China. I'm sure I'll manage. As long as there's no giant pizzas involved...

Love you all

Matt

Korea - The first children's day

Hello everyone!

The week of my midterms meant that I had the joys of sitting in school doing nothing for a week. Can't complain, really. In the midst of much procrastinating, however, was Children's Day. Wednesday May 5 is a national holiday in Korea. No jokes. Everyone has a day off. Even people who work in Hagwans, who never ever seem to have time off. One day off - on a Wednesday. Mental.

So what to do on our day off? Well, only one option really. To embrace our inner child. To do something that every child dreams of doing. Well I suppose there is another option. You could just get hammered on the Tuesday night and spend Wednesday in bed cursing alcohol. Take a wild stab in the dark as to what we did.

We went to Bucheon to try and find some new places to go. Key point about the watering holes of Korea first. There are two types: bars and hofs. In bars, you are able to only buy drinks. In hofs, you have to buy something extra. Hofs can then be sub-divided further. In some, you have to buy food. Nice and innocent. In others, you have to buy women. Not so nice and innocent. The problem is these three types of drinking establishments aren't easy to distinguish from the others. As a result, when trying to find a new bar in Bucheon, we often opened the door to find dimly-lit spaces with curtained-off sections.

We ended up in a food hof called Noblesse. I would say insert joke here, but we tried for quite a long time and failed to come up with a funny one. It doesn't seem to work when men are present. With the food hofs, you normally have to order the food straight away. Obviously Noblesse wasn't used to hosting Western men (I'll get my coat), or Westerners in general. The menu was entirely in Korean. I'd had a couple of beers, so was once again trying my best to convince the world that I could understand the entirely Korean menu. Once again, I was failing. The guy started reeling off the menu - in Korean. Luckily for us (except Deb, being vegetarian) he said chicken, which sounds the same in both languages, so we snapped up that choice and got on with our night.

Until the drinks order, anyway. It's always dangerous to veer off the beer-or-soju road in these joints. Ellen tried to order a vodka and cider, cider being lemonade. They looked confused by this bizarre combination. The congregation of bar staff then decided that they understood, and went off to get this, as well as the other five beers. They returned with a bottle of cider and a bottle of a vodka-oriented alcopop, called KGB. Not quite. Cutting her losses quickly, Ellen took the KGB. We'll keep hunting for alternative bars, I think.

That was the plan after all, to find new places. So naturally we ended up in a bar called Namu, where we have been numerous times, before heading to Jailbar, where we have been numerous times. The former sells towers of beer - much more productive than the Sourz Tower or Robbo's fame, the joke that that thing was - and pressurised soju cocktails. The latter? Well I seem to go a bit crazy on the soju in there.

It was a really good night up until I spotted a Korean man sleeping in Jailbar, and zoomed in my camera to take a photo of him. Damn flash. I attract the attention of the rest of his table. And him, as the bright light awakens him from his slumber. Uh oh. I go over to, well I'm assuming to apologise. And they end up giving me lots of soju. LOTS of the stuff. I had to be told the next day how we got home.

So Children's Day was spent being hungover. Not very childlike. That day I also was told that my proxy vote for the British general election hadn't been processed, so I couldn't vote. Wasn't happy, especially as I'd been moaning to every Brit out here about the importance of voting.

In the meantime, during my week of having no lessons, I got absolutely no school work done. Not very productive, you might think, but I spent most of the week researching and planning our summer vaycay to China. Tokyo in less than two weeks as well, can't complain about life!

Love you all

Matt

Korea - The first trip to the border

Hello everyone!

I was late for school on Monday. Staying up to watch football seems to have that effect on me. My punctuality will be put to the test when the World Cup starts in just over a month's time. As I was late, I hopped on a bus. It's always fun when a bus comes to a red light at a T intersection and decides, rather than stopping, to edge its way to the front of the queue to sit in the middle of the intersection, and then carry on driving when the green man still has over 10 seconds on the timer. This happens more often than it should, but it got me to school that little bit quicker.

Not that my lateness mattered today, though. Why, you ask? Well, we are halfway through the first semester, which naturally means that the kids need to have a week of exams. Well, they haven't had any in, what, six weeks? All of this means that I have no lessons, and have to content myself with sitting in my office (Wednesday excepted) trying to occupy my time. I'm sure I'll cope, somehow.

Last time out I mentioned a few stereotypes that British people have about Korea - the dogs, the hard work, the love of Park Ji-Sung. Stereotypes of South Korea, at least. We have a different view of the North. From talking to numerous Koreans about the history and politics (being my degree it is right up my street), I have found that our stereotypes are somewhat misguided.

North and South Koreans hate each other - WRONG. Both want reunification, but have different motives. The North want to take over; the South want to reunify and have peace. Many older Koreans lost family member to the North after the division. Until the current President took charge, the South had a 'Sunshine Policy' towards the North which gave them food and supplies, with minimal strings being attached. Southerners just want peace, they don't hate the North - it's the Japanese they really hate.

The Korean War wasn't as major as Vietnam - WRONG. This was the first major proxy war of the Cold War, save for the occasional skirmish in Europe (Greece). The only reason Vietnam is a bigger deal is because it happened during an unprecedented movement in American society and culture which took the idea of freedoms to a new level. Most people were a lot more introverted in the early 1950s, when the Korean War took place. Also, try telling a Korean veteran that this wasn't a major war.

Why should we care? Britain wasn't involved in the Korean War - WRONG. Turns out Britain sent a lot of troops and equipment to aid the South. I didn't know this, so was pretty surprised.

Kim Jong-il is a mentalist bent on taking over the world - Well, maybe. But over here he's portrayed more as an idiotic childish brat. Perhaps he should watch Team America and then iron out those character flaws. But there is no tangible fear out here about an impending strike. Even after the Cheonan, people were getting on with their lives. Difficult to scare a Korean. With the amount of exams they have to sit, all the anxiety probably exits their humanity in childhood.

So I decided to take my slightly more rounded view up to the DMZ on Saturday. It was an early start - the bus was leaving Seoul at 7.30. 5.30am wake-ups are never fun, especially as I didn't hit the hay until 2 on Friday night. At least I didn't go to Hongdae and stay up all night, even though the temptation was there. Ultimately, I didn't think that turning up to the border drunk was in anyone's interest. Could have got a state funeral, though.

I almost missed the bus thanks to the subway inexplicably stopping for ten minutes, but we were soon on our way. The McDonald's service station we stopped at must have thought they hit the jackpot when fifty foreigners all got in a line to get Egg McMuffin's. I went through a website, so didn't know anyone else on the trip, but thought it would be a nice opportunity to meet new people. Just about all of us had to wake up between 5 and 6 though, so it wasn't a party bus filled with conversation.

After a brief stop at a museum and white water rafting point, which looked pretty enticing, our first stop was Cheol Wan. We headed up to the Peace Observation Deck, which had views of the border. The view isn't all that spectacular, but what was I expecting? It's a demilitarised zone, not a Hollywood backdrop. There were some South Korean soldiers playing foot-volleyball at the bottom, their relaxed demeanour belying the surroundings of outposts and barbed wire. In this place they also played us a video about the history of our view. Didn't realise the levels of propaganda that came from the South. Heroes vs. Enemies and stuff like that. Thought that kinda smack talk was reserved for people on the other side.

We then headed to one of the tunnels. The North built these as a way to secretly get troops under the DMZ if they wanted to attack the South, but they were discovered in the 1970s. You aren't allowed to go too far into the tunnels, for the obvious reason that you would be crossing the border. We were each given a hard hat, which seemed unnecessary until we realised quite how low the tunnels were. Getting through them with military accessories would not have been fun. You weren't allowed to take photos down there, but most people did. We were told upon exiting the tunnel that the guards had seen people taking photos, and were going to check cameras. Perfect time to slip to the back of the group and take out my memory card. 'Aah, my camera is broke'. Still got that charm.

Was a bit ironic that my camera then wouldn't work when I put the card back in, but I fixed it by the time we got to the next stop, the DPRK Labour Party Building. This was a place any captured South soldiers were tortured beyond repair, and certainly beyond humanity. Not the nicest place in the world. After a couple more checkpoints - at one of which a South army guy came on board to count up numbers, so we got up close to his very large gun - we were at White Horse Hill.

This was one of the main battle points of the War. It changed hands 24 times in 10 days. As you can imagine, that means a lot of people were killed, and a lot of shots were fired. So many shots, in fact, that they made this mosaic entirely out of used bullet shells. Incredible. An army guy talked us through the place in great detail. He was good, but there was a bit too much detail, which meant we were late for our final stop, and missed out on another tunnel. My guess is that they're all the same, so I wasn't too perturbed by this.

The final stop was Imjingak, which is more tourist-orientated than the Cheol Won area. They sold North Korean beer and soju, which I quickly invested in. I didn't get a picture of it, though. Mainly because I forgot, and it didn't last long; we drank it upon my return to Siheung. Nicer than South Korean beer, even when warm. 1-0 to the DPRK! Their soju is stronger as well. Our guide explained that South soju is capped at 19.8% so that, when it is exported to the US, it is classed under 'beer and wines', and not hard liqueur. It's a licensing thing. FYI, Northern soju is 25%.

Imjingak's main attraction is the Freedom Bridge, but there were other memorials to see. I was interested by their take on the 'Bullet Train'. It's different from the Japanese one, in that this one was littered with bullet holes. See what I did there. What was strange was the fun, playful atmosphere that surrounded this place, with kids flying kids and running around. Soon after was a hot, sticky, sleepy bus ride back to Seoul.

It's a strange place, the DMZ. There's probably nowhere quite like it in the world. It was a very interesting trip, especially with my background as a History and Politics major. It made me more fascinated abut North Korea, though I can't see myself hopping the border anytime soon. Though those tunnels are enticing...

Love you all

Matt

Korea - The first half-marathon

Hello everyone!

I've now been in Korea for 5 months. FIVE! I was in a bit of shock when this little thought crossed my mind the other day. Time is flying. In my original plan, I would only have one month left before leaving for South Africa for the World Cup. The price of flights from Seoul to Jo'burg scuppered that utopia quite quickly, but even if they were cheap I would probably have stayed out here. I love it here, and am having a great time. I still have so much more to do and see as well! The two stereotypes we have back in Britain regarding Korea are munching on dogs and mocking Kim Jong-il. I'm yet to do either. Plenty of time, though. Mmm, German shepherd...

I celebrated this mini-anniversary in an unorthodox way - I ran a half-marathon. This was on the other side of Seoul, in a place called Hanam, and started on the Sunday at 9am. It was remote. No subway went near the place. It was going to be impossible to get there from Siheung on the day, so I decided to splurge a little bit and get myself a motel as close as possible. What I plumped for was the one acceptable-looking motel down a backstreet, called Motel Napoli, and indeed it didn't seem to possess the 'love' element of its near neighbour, the Hotel Cream. These establishments were in Jamsil, home of the Olympic Park.

This is a part of Seoul I had not seen before, and I was surprised by it. It was spacious, clean, green - everything other parts of Seoul isn't. The weather was good (it didn't last, as I'm typing this when the afternoon temperature is 6'C), so I spent my early evening sat in a beautiful park reading a book, and then pondering stuff. It was when I was sat on this bench that I began to think that I was at home, and very content, in Korea. May have been the blossoms. It's a shame that there are no nice green areas like this in Siheung, save for one tiny park.

A half-marathon is 21km. More like 21.0975, actually, but if you can run 21,000metres you should really be able to squeeze out an extra 10. Either way, it's long, so you are supposed to carb-load the night before the race. I hate doing this, it makes me feel sick beyond recognition, but it does help tremendously. I went to get some bibimbap from a local cafe-style place. An old Korean lady sat nearby heard me order and didn't know the type of bibimbap, so hung around whilst I was waiting for it. We tried the ever-fun 'I-speak-bad-Korean-and-you-respond-in-bad-English' game for a while, and then, when it arrived, I offered her some of my meal. Sharing culture, you see. Not this time though - she didn't like the look of the leaves, as I seemed to have ordered a salad version of bibimbap.

I like to think, and act, as if I know what I'm doing when it comes to ordering food. I eat out enough to practice, really. I know what the basics look like on the menu - bibimbap looks like 비빔밥 - but if there is more than one version, it becomes a guessing game. I was out for dinner on Monday and had similar issues, and I normally end up picking a random/cheap choice from the menu and eating it regardless. Seems to work quite well, as all Korean food is awesome.

Bibimbap crushed, I then went to a corner shop and bought some more rice-related food (it was kimbap, that triangle on the right) and ate that as well. And a doughnut. And a bagel. I don't know where I put it all. But come Sunday morning I was ready for action. After another bagel. Gotta keep those carbs topped up. I got on a bus to Hanam from Jamsil, then immediately realised that the bus right in front was going directly to the specific part of Hanam that I needed to go. And that my bus wasn't. Never been a fan of doing things the easy way.

The bus was taking its sweet time as well. I ended up gambling an getting off the bus in the middle of nowhere, which looked exactly the same as the middle of nowhere anywhere else in Korea - grey four-storey buildings on either side of a narrow road with lots of colourful Hangul signs all around. I was hoping for a taxi, and one duly popped up. Sweet.

I was directing him in Korean - again, I like to think I can do that, whereas in reality I'm just a nuisance for them - when he had to stop at a red light. On the right was a large banner with Korean writing and the current date. 'Ma-ra-tonn?' my taxi driver enquires whilst pointing at me. 'Half' I say, before saying the Korean equivalent - 'ha-puh'. He breaks into a big grin and starts chatting away in Korean. I smile and nod, say 'neh' a lot, and pretend to know what he's saying. Then, without warning, he loudly utters this gem of a quote - 'I have confidence in you!' Remember his English was non-existent before this point. To say I was blown away was a gross understatement. I just burst out laughing. He carried on: 'You do...er...my best!' I didn't even have the chance to correct him. 'You do your best!' he cried, and then sped off through the traffic light, which was still glowing bright red, and weaved his way through other cars to get me there quicker. What a hero.

By the time I had got myself together and done a brief warm-up, it was game time. It was a lovely day, the kind of day I have been craving out here. Just not today. 9am, and it was already warm. Of course, the 'Korean time' I mentioned in previous blogs kicked in, so we didn't start for a while. Lots of shouting on microphones in Korean, then BANG, and we're trotting over the starting line under a plethora of confetti. Away we go.

It was a beautiful location for a run, definitely worth the hassle of the previous 18 hours. The race was called the Hangang Marathon, which translates as the River Han Marathon. It wasn't lying. We ran along the river for pretty much the whole way. The sunlight shimmered off the water, the air was still, and the only noise was the pitter-patter of thousands of feet. And my iPod, of course. I have missed running outdoors, but one of the positives of the gym is that I can work out how fast I'm going. I have no perception of speed outside, so had no clue if I was on track.

I realised I was going slower than I should have been when I saw the first km sign they bothered to put up. I felt like I was getting close to 10km. Bit of a shock when it said 7km. Especially as the heat was rising and we had moved onto the road. A hilly road. I didn't anticipate the number of slopes on this route. It's by a freaking river, it's supposed to be quite flat, right? No chance. The road bobbed up and down for another 6km or so before we did a U-turn and headed back.

It was at this point that I hit what professional sports people describe as being 'in the zone'. It was bizarre, and stimulated by a song by Lifehouse. Really bad American pop band, and I have no clue why the song was on my iPod, let alone my playlist. But I felt my legs loosen, my blisters stopped pestering me and I got quicker. And quicker. I pretty much sprinted 14-17, and soon it was the final km. Once I realised where I was going, I started to sprint. A lanky man in black leggings, who I'm pretty sure from his accent afterwards was German, was in the distance. I had been using him as a pacemaker earlier in the race, and struggling to keep pace with each enormous stride. Target = locked. My knee began to feel awkward, but I was going to finish. And I was going to beat this guy.

Sure enough, with about 100 metres to go, I sprinted around him, and just about everyone in my vicinity. They obviously didn't know about my sprint finishes. I saw the clock was at 1 hour 50 on the final straight. I had passed under it at about 2.10, so I knew a PB, my realistic aim, was in the bag. Sprint, keep kicking, it doesn't hurt, blah blah FINISH!! I checked my momentum by accidentally running into another runner, then swore at how much my knee hurt, before moving to get my goody bag. They give you milk, which as everyone knows from Anchorman, is a bad choice on a hot day.

1 hour, 48 minutes and 19 seconds. Got to be happy with that. The overly-ambitious target was 1 hour 45, but considering my knee has been flaring up of late, I'm very content with my time. What I was less happy about was that it took me over 3 hours to get back to Siheung. Still, it was a lovely day, and we went to the park to chill and enjoy the spring weather.

What's that, you say? A weekend without alcohol? Don't be stupid. One of the first things I was given after the race, just after the milk, was some makkoli, and we didn't stay sober in the park. Dream on, folks. For once, I feel I may just have deserved it though. Roll on May!

Love you all

Matt

Korea - The first orientation

Hello everyone!

There's a famous expression that goes something like this: 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'. A similar idea exists with certain excursions we make throughout our lives, and this one is no different. What happens at orientation, stays at orientation.

But that wouldn't make for a fun blog, would it? So away we go...(I didn't take any pictures, so you're stuck with other people's facebook pics and my creative Google Image searching)

I want to make clear at this point how I felt before going to orientation. I didn't want to. I've been here for almost five months. I don't need to know how to use Korean money. I don't need to know how to use the subway. I don't need to be told how to make a lesson plan. If I still needed to know these things at this point, I wouldn't be here. I would have been fired long ago. Or swallowed up in a mass of kimchi and funny-looking letters. I didn't need to be whisked away for three days to learn about stuff I already knew.

So why did I go? Well, for one I had to, as part of my contract with GEPIK. Also, three days off school?? I'll take that. Finally, I'd heard stories about what happens at orientation. Drinking. And not much else. So a chance to socialise, and be paid for doing so, was too good to pass up. So Wednesday morning, rather than teaching my first class, I was sitting on a wall outside Bucheon station with an Australian, Dan, and two Americans.

Our bus was supposed to arrive at around 8.40. So we waited. And waited. And waited... Eventually one of the guys called up GEPIK, and we were told that the bus had turned up - and subsequently left. Good start. After pondering if it was worth going (we said yes, as we had to register up there and couldn't go AWOL), we hopped into a taxi to a different subway station, and then got on a subway down to Osan station. That's MILES away from Siheung, by the way.

The bus for Osan people was still around when we got there, so we started chatting to other people and then hopped on. First thing I noticed was that I hadn't yet met another Brit - mostly Americans and Canadians. Secondly, and less surprisingly, it seemed as if everyone was older than me - but the age range was a lot bigger than I anticipated. Lots of middle-aged and upwards men and women. But anyway, we were soon on our way, and after a longer-than-expected bus ride, we were at Anseong to begin our orientation.

After checking-in, the first port of call was the auditorium for a welcoming lecture. Aah yes, not all fun and games at orientation. We had to attend a variety of lectures and group meetings. Was like being in uni all over again, except for this time I was turning up. The first one wasn't too bad (mainly because most of it was us watching traditional Korean dance) but the first afternoon lecture, about the Korean curriculum and school rules and such, was similar to some of the lectures I had to experience in Manchester - excruciatingly dull. We played noughts and crosses for a while, before doodling on our information packs. I unwittingly drew a face that, when modified with a short moustache, was the spitting image of a Mister Hitler. Whoops.

To be honest, the only scheduled activity I paid attention to on the first day was our group meeting, where we were further split into partners and told that we had to give a demo lesson, about 10 minutes in length, in the next group session the following day. Would we get into trouble if we messed up? Of course not. So did we put in much effort? Of course not. Don't get me wrong, it's probably great for people who have just moved to Korea. But I'm not a newbie anymore.

After dinner we had the option of doing some cultural activites. It was merely an option, so most of us didn't bother with it, instead opting to drink, socialise and swap stories. All whilst playing a large game of Ring of Fire, naturally. They told us that they didn't sell soju on site, so we stuck to clearing out their beer fridge. They told us at the start to be sensible, but what did they honestly expect 180 Western teachers to do with their night?

A few of us bumped into some Korean guys who were at the site for a different thing, and we talked and traded soju with them. They may not sell it, but we all knew that, and came prepared. They were all engineers of some sort, and on a course at the same site. Good fun. We persuaded them to buy 10 bottles of soju for us for the following night, then took all their numbers. We were going to hold them to that. Time I got to bed? Best not to ask.

There was only one lecture that I enjoyed, which was the first one on Thursday morning. A Canadian couple who live in Bucheon gave one with some lesson ideas, which was interesting but also quite fun. Especially compared to the next two. The highlight of our co-teaching lecture, taught by a Korean whose English wasn't great, was an activity where each group was given an 'IF' statement and had to make a poster with answers. Our group, consisting of a Welshman, two Canadians and a subdued American, was 'If I was President of the United States I would...' We decided to have some fun with this, and came up with three answers. The reaction to each comes after.
1) Make all school meals serve kimchi - loud cheers
2) Invade Canada (this was my choice) - louder cheers interspersed with boos
3) Bomb North Korea - stunned silence with a couple of nervous laughs
Needless to say, the third choice bombed. Ahem. I'll get my coat...

The other 'lecture' was a South African woman who, instead of giving us 'teaching tips' as the title suggested, just talked about her life. In excruciating detail. Ironically, her lesson plan in the info book had this tip: don't lecture too much. Hypocrite.

In the afternoon was our demo lesson, which me and my partner Marvin had planned during the borefest that was the morning. It went fine, I just did the Katy Perry routine. Others in the group were taken aback by my energy levels, at which point I shook the large coffee in their faces. All you need to teach, a solid lesson plan and a large cup of black magic.

After this we had to choose a Korean culture class. Compulsory this time. Our choices were another lecture (boring), mask making (gay), or learning sogo. Simple process of elimination left me with the latter. A sogo is a traditional Korean drum. This was pretty fun, actually. They taught us a traditional Korean drumming and dancing routine. It took us a while to get it, but ultimately we got it and performed it majestically.

We had dinner and then were shunted like cattle into the auditorium for 'recreation'. Compulsory recreation, not something that's ever likely to catch on in our culture. You can't force people to have fun. Sounded like it was imported from the North, that idea. We all had to sit in big circles, six in total. We hadn't even settled when a short Korean man, who I've since found out is called 'Sexy Paul', waltzed onto the stage. He was the attempt of an au pair, MC, whatever you might call him. I'll go for mentalist. One of a kind, this guy.

He starts by trying to enthuse his dormant audience. His struggle with English and the use of a microphone made his voice rather difficult for us to understand. But he wanted to play some warm-up games. 'Turn to the person on your right'. I do this, and am looking at the back of an older, bald Englishman. 'Massage their back'. Erm, what? 'Do this on back (insert massaging mime here)'. Fine. We do this for a bit, until he introduces the wildcard - the 'shock'. The 'shock' is, of course, the motion of jabbing your fingers in the sides of the other person. By the time we had got to the triple, the 'shock-shock-shock', my fellow Brit was not impressed. Is this a key facet of Korean culture? I don't know.

But then the kicker. We played another game, and the winner had to...well, they do say 'say what you see'...wiggle the other person's ears. Sorry Sexy Paul, bridge too far and all that. It was getting a little bit too intense, but luckily he then initiated a giant rock-paper-scissors game to steady the ship. After that there was a dancing contest, during which our team's nominated dancer, an American who looked and seemed for all the world like a geek, chicken-danced and spun his way around our circle. We couldn't actually keep straight faces, it was marvellous.

Once this rather bizarre hour was completed, we got back to doing what we do best - Ring of Fire. About twenty of us. I'm not going to explain the rules and such, but for those who know the game, doing the 'waterfall' with twenty people is tough. Especially as I was near the end. That's a lot of maekchu. My Canadian friend Kristen and I momentarily left this game to find our Korean soju providers from the night before. They had indeed brought soju - only two bottles, but better than none - so we got on that for a bit before resuming play.

I got back to my room at around 6am. Needless to say, my 100% attendance disappeared on the Friday. It was a meeting about contracts, so not really important. I did miss check-out, though. In a rush to get to the farewell lecture, I dropped my key on the desk in the lobby. At the end of the farewell ceremony there were a few loose ends for the GEPIK leaders to tie up, such as missing keys. My name was duly called out at this point, and everyone in the vicinity turned and grinned at me. That's not a good feeling. The key thing also flared up on the bus before leaving, at which point I, with a degree of hostility it must be said, answered her question enquiring if I had returned the key with a harsh 'yes'.

So, an analysis of orientation? It was great fun, I met some great people, I learnt absoutely nothing productive about teaching, and I drunk way too much considering I had a race that weekend. This will sound harsh, but of the 180 or so teachers there, the number I will see in the future can be counted on my two hands. If I had just arrived, that would be different. It proved to me that I have settled. I'm happy to make new friends, I love doing that, but with the distances involved between people, it's not going to be a regular thing. But we all had fun, and no one had to go to school, which is all that matters.

Love you all

Matt