Stranger Danger? Nah! More Like Warm Fuzzies.

Well, it's been a few weeks since I came back from my trip to Taiwan and it has been interesting, if nothing else.

Now, before I continue with my story for tonight, I have to say that there's another blog coming soon about the actual trip to Taiwan. I know I posted one before, but it really just concentrated on my accident more than anything else and I don't want to give the impression that I had a bad time while I was there. So, "Taiwan: Parte Dos" is coming soon to a computer monitor near you...

Anyway, as I was saying, the last few weeks have been interesting despite the fact that I haven't been able to do very much of anything. Mainly because I have witnessed some serious kindness from the people who surround me; not just my friends, but also people who I have never met before or have only seen in passing. Strangers, really. I don't want to paint a rosy picture and say that everything is always perfect. I think that people who refuse to accept that there is always a good side and a bad side to everything are really just kidding themselves. However, people have really been making a good impression on me lately and I think I'm beginning to understand why...

I HAVE A MAJOR PROBLEM ADMITTING THAT SOMETIMES I NEED HELP.

Does that sound at all like me? I never really thought of this as a problem because I never really had to think about it. With the exception of moving from one home to another, dealing with daddy issues (shout-out to Scotty and Matt! thanks for all the help!), and other random little things, I've dealt with and figured out most things on my own like a big girl. Usually the hard way. These last few weeks, however, have been very different. I haven't been able to walk, except with the use of my crutches, and I haven't been able to carry things either because my hands are preoccupied with the crutches. This means that I have been EXTREMELY dependent on others for just about everything. It made me, and continues to make me, uncomfortable. If there's anything that I really hate in this world, it's the sight of a helpless woman. Not helpless because she really can't do things herself, but because she refuses to try to do things on her own. Maybe it's very judgmental of me, but that's how I feel. It's how I was brought up. God gave you two hands: one to help yourself and another one to help others. It's also my "survival of the fittest" mentality, I think. Let's face it, I wasn't exactly born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I'm from East L.A. and was raised in South Central and Pacoima. If you can't take care of yourself there and figure out a way to lift yourself up, then there's really not much hope for you or your offspring.

Which reminds me, I'd like to take a moment here to go off on a slight tangent. I have been told by a few people throughout the last 15 months I've been in Korea, that I have a permanent "angry" expression on my face. lol. It used to surprise me at first, but I've gotten a little more used to the comments by now. My explanation for my expression is this: People with benevolent faces don't always make it home in one piece on the walk back from school in the ghetto. I learned that lesson well in adolescence. Pacoima Middle School and San Fernando High, you taught me many things. At any rate, I'm trying to iron out the "intimidating" frown. Don't let it scare you away. :)

Anyway, back to my main topic. People, for the most part, have been AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL to me the last few weeks. I wasn't sure what I was gonna do when the doctor forbade me to walk, but I have had a constant train of people calling and coming over to help me do everything like cooking for me, washing my dishes, sweeping my floors, taking out my trash, going to the bank for me, going to the market for me, fluffing my pillow, picking up the other pillow that fell behind my bed, etc., etc., etc. Why did I really need all that help, because I also bruised my ribs pretty freakin' badly and it hurt like a motherf*cker to move my torso.

And that was just in my home life! My work life has been amazing, too! With the exception of a battle that I had with my boss about paid illness/injury time that I was entitled to according to my contract (and that he refused to give me in the end) (*raspberries*), my co-workers and students have been truly awesome. They've set it up for me so that my desk is the closest to the door and my classes are taught in the closest classroom to the teacher's room. My co-workers have been willingly helping me whenever they can and the kids have been reporting to the office at the beginning of each class to help me carry my books, pens, laptop, you name it! I've been getting spoiled!

Last week, I finally decided that I was done taking my pain killers and that I was going to try to move around a little more. Nothing major, just little things like going to the coffee shop next door or to the convenience store on the first floor of my apartment building. Random people who I've never met have been stopping to try to help me with whatever they can. They open doors, hold the elevator, they extend their arms out to help me down the steps... That one got to me. A little old lady saw me trying to get down the two steps at the front of my school's building and she stretched out her arm and helped me down. I almost started to cry. Not because I was sad or frustrated, but because it was such a nice thing of her to do. It's something that I would've offered to do for an older person on any other day, but she turned it around on me and helped me down. She looked at me with the most concerned face and said something in Korean. She was obviously asking me what had happened, and all I could say was, "Aigo!", which kinda translates to "Oh, my!" or "Oops!" This made her smile a little, she said something else, I said thank you, and we parted ways. Same thing with the owners of the convenience store downstairs. I hobbled in, they saw me, proceeded to carry everything that I had was picking out, and then they refused to let me carry the bag back upstairs to my apartment. The wife came with me and put the bags down just inside my apartment entrance. She did this two days ago and she did it again today. We had a nice conversation, all in Korean, the whole way up today. She asked me what had happened, I told her I was in a traffic accident. She asked me if my armpits were tired from the crutches, I laughed and said yes. She asked me if I had eaten yet, I told her I was ordering chicken from Pelicana in a little while. She looked surprised at that and asked me if the people that take the phone orders speak English, so I said that I speak just enough Korean to be able to order food and have it delivered to my apartment. She laughed, put my groceries down inside my apartment again, and bid me goodnight.

I guess what I'm trying to get at with all of this is that I had forgotten one major part of my "survival of the fittest" mentality. That is, not only must we be able to take care of ourselves, but we must also surround ourselves with good people and inspire them to want to take care of us in the undesired event that we may actually need it. We need to be able to recognize that other people know that they were given two hands also, one to to help themselves, and the other to help other people. Korea, you continue to teach me many things.

<3

An Important Message...

“The sacred rights of mankind are not to be rummaged for among old parchments or musty records. They are written, as with a sunbeam, in the whole volume of human nature, by the Hand of Divinity itself, and can never be erased or obscured by mortal power.”

― Alexander Hamilton

We Are Young and We Are Stupid: Taiwan for New Year 2012!

I've been in Korea for 14 months now and I have decided that the time for me to really get out, see the world, and see what I'm made of, is now. It was with that in mind that I decided that I wanted to travel around Asia as much as possible while I'm here. Since I only get a couple of short breaks per year, I planned out an awesome trip to Taiwan. None of my fiends here in Daejeon were able to go with me this time around as they already had their own travel plans or were staying put for New Year's, so I decided to go by myself. As the day of the trip drew nearer, one of my friends from Seoul said that he was gonna be going to Taiwan also and that we should hang out while we were there. My solo trip had just turned into treking around a foreign island nation with a buddy which I actually didn't mind a bit because, let's face it, I'm a talker. Talking to myself gets pretty boring pretty fast. I was also scheduled to meet up with my friend Jimmy who used to live in Daejeon but is now living in Taipei, so that promised to be good.

When I got to Taiwan, I contacted my friend Jose to let him know that I was there and coordinate our meeting in Kenting, which is on the southern tip of Taiwan. We had a good first day in Taiwan as we wandered around the night market and ate everything (or almost everything) in sight. The next day, I got up and had an awesome breakfast at the hotel. I was staying at the Caesar Park, which is the first 5 star hotel I've ever stayed at, so it was a good morning meal. I met Jose on the beach right around noon and we left to go rent scooters and explore the rest of the southern shore...

That's when our entire trip turned upside down.

Not long after we rented the scooters, we were driving down the main road in Kenting and I got into a pretty bad accident, although I didn't really realize it at the time. I'm not gonna go into the details of how the accident happened because it's not a story I wish to recount or remember. My official story, for the purposes of making light of the situation, goes as follows:

"I was cruising on a Harley along the southern coast of Taiwan when a mama duck waddled onto the road with her line of ducklings trailing behind. I, trying to save the baby ducks and their mommy, swerved out of the way and subsequently fell off a cliff onto jagged rocks... Fortunately I seem to be made of tough stuff and I managed to elude death."

Obviously, it's up to you if you want to believe any of that, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it! lol.

Anyway, I'm really glad that my friend was there because I have no idea what I would've done if he weren't there. He did not leave my side the entire time and was really good at keeping me calm and focused. He even went out later that night and got me a Happy Meal from McDonald's to try to make me feel better. It did. :)

There was also a really nice couple who stopped when the accident happened. They were super awesome and helped us a lot with the entire process of translating everything, as neither Jose or I speak Chinese. They even gave Jose their phone number in case we needed them for anything after they were gone. As it turns out, we did need them again later to help clear up more of the process of the damages done to property and they went out of their way to make phone calls and even drive back to where we were. As far as Good Samaritans go, they were pretty high up there on the "good" scale. I don't know if they believe in Heaven or not, but I think they have a well-deserved spot up there. Really, I can't say enough good things about them.

The whole ordeal took up the entire day, and that didn't even include hospital time because I refused to go for a couple of reasons.

A) I didn't know if I could trust Taiwanese hospitals, and

B) I really didn't feel very hurt at the moment.

It wasn't until later that night that I started to really feel the pain in my right knee, my left arm, and my ribs.

The EMTs that had attended to me earlier in the day said that nothing seemed to be broken, so I chucked it all off to soreness, bumps and bruises, and continued to be stubborn about not going to the hospital even though Jose, and later on in the trip, my friend Jimmy, kept begging me the entire time to go to the hospital. "What if something's broken?" All I could think of was, "Broken? I can't be broken! I don't have time to be broken! I'm only in Taiwan for 5 days! I've got things to do and people to see!" I kept telling them that I was fine and we should continue on our trip as if nothing had happened. Reluctantly, they obliged and we had an awesome few days in Taiwan. Taiwan was beautiful and I was glad that I didn't miss too much of it. We even got to see the countdown and fireworks show at Taipei 101! It was awesome!

That is, of course, until I got back home to Korea and I finally went to the hospital.

Total damage to my self:

- 2 fractures on my right knee

- Severely bruised ribs

- SEVERELY bruised ego.

All of this plus 6 weeks of recovery time, the outrageous medical expenses, and the cost of damages to property. Many lessons learned.

It sounds like a pretty shitty ordeal, but I have to remember something that I've heard my mom say before: "Pero lo paseada quien me lo quita?" *

=)

Special thanks go out to Samson and Nydia for being super nice and helping us out, to my friend Jimmy for showing us around Taipei, and of course to my friend Jose for helping a gimpy old lady throughout the entire trip. Muchas gracias, de todo corazon!!

*Lose translation from Spanish to English: "Who's gonna take away the trip/fun I already had?"

OH!! And thank you, too, to my friend Nadia who has been helping me out since I got back from the trip, and to her co-worker (my new friend) Alice for going with me and Nadia to the hospital here in Korea and translating everything for us.

Full Circle

So, if you have ever read my blog, you might already know that I am the first-generation American daughter to Mexican parents. My parents did not speak English when they first crossed the border into the U.S. and it took them a while to really become fluent. I, myself, learned English from a combination of watching Sesame Street, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, and from going to an all-English kindergarten.

I remember coming home one day and excitedly telling my parents that I had learned how to say "ventana" and "puerta" in English. I yelled out "Door! Window!!" My parents were so proud. My dad immediately started telling all of his friends (they didn't speak English either) that his daughter was learning English very fast. He'd pull me outside when his friends would come over and ask, "A ver, Marisol, como se dice 'Cierra la puerta!'?" and I'd reply (in my best Gringa accent) "Close the door!" "Y como se dice 'Abre la ventana!'?" "Open the window!" He'd then look at his friends and they'd laugh and make "Oooh!" and "Aaah!" noises and slap his back good-humoredly.

Well, it seems that my days of showing off my ability to speak English are over and the time has come for me to pay the universe back for my good fortune. I had one of those "full circle" moments in my lowest elementary-level class today...



Life is amazing!

Happy One Year Anniversary!!

Today marks the one year anniversary of my life here in Korea. One year ago, I arrived in a new country afraid of what could have been either the biggest mistake of my life or the best decision ever. One year ago, I left my family, my friends, and my then boyfriend, all behind in the country and city that I had lived in my entire life. I came here to experience something different. I came here to experience life outside the comforts of my familiar surroundings. One year ago, I came here with a couple of suitcases, got picked up by my head teacher from the bus terminal in Daejeon after an eleven hour plane ride and a 2 hour bus ride, and had my first REAL Korean meal of Sam Gyup Sal wrapped in sesame leaves.

I can’t believe it’s been a year. So much has changed in my life that it’s hard to believe it all happened in one year. Not only has my geographic location changed, but I have changed. Living in a completely different society will do that to a person. I like to believe that most of the changes have been for the better although not everyone agrees, and that’s ok. I am my own person.

I’ve had some really awesome times here in Korea this last year. It’s been so great that I decided six months ago that I would stay for another year. And by now, six months after that, I’ve just about decided that I want to stay for another year after that. I have met so many amazing people here, both Korean and foreigners, that I cannot imagine leaving them all just yet. I miss my people back home, but I need to be here for a while still. Something tells me deep down inside that Korea still has a lot to offer me and maybe I can offer something of myself to back Korea. What that is, I’m still not sure.

I think part of what I can offer back to Korea is patience and an open mind. I have to admit that I have experienced some culture shock here and I have not made as big an effort to work through it as I could. Maybe being open to learning more about Korean society and trying to look objectively at the positives as well as the negatives of living here would be a good start. It’s all a part of the process. Hopefully that process will lead me towards a better understanding of Korea, of the world, and of how I fit into all of it.

With all of that in mind I just wanted to say, Happy one-year anniversary, Korea!

We have our ups and our downs, but through it all, I love you.

Occupy Seoul

I wanted to post a blog about this because I believe that it’s a very important issue not just for Americans but for the people of the world. You may or may not agree with my opinions and that’s alright. The world would be a boring place if we all believed in the exact same things. But I ask that you respect my opinions just like you might expect me to respect yours.

...

I went to the Occupy Seoul protest yesterday (October 15^th, 2011) to show that I stand in solidarity with my American brothers and sisters in fighting the good fight against all the problems that plague our country. There are too many issues at hand and I am not going to try to talk about all of them because I would never finish and frankly, I’m not very well versed in all of them. Like I said, there are just too many of them. Instead what I will do is talk about the one that I am most familiar with because it has hit me on a personal level, the economic crisis. Again, I know that you may not agree with my opinions or the fact that I protest, but in all honesty, I don’t need anyone’s approval on this other than that of my mother and father. Why my mother and father? Let me explain…

My dad went to the United States in (I believe) 1979 and my mom in 1981. They went there originally as illegal immigrants. They did this not because they didn’t want to go through the process of legal residency, but because attaining legal residency in the U.S. took very long, it was very expensive, and this was a matter of survival of the fittest. Their situation back at home in Mexico was not good. In any case, they went to the U.S., they met, and got married. Life was not easy for them as illegal immigrants. They were at the bottom.

My dad worked in the fields for a short while, then at a bakery, he drove a tow truck, he was an auto mechanic, and eventually he found work with a very nice American man who hired him and trained him in hardwood floor installation. He worked there for a while at the same time that he went to night classes at a nearby high school where he learned how to read, write, and do basic math (yeah, Mexico was not very good at sending kids to school). He wasn’t there for very long, but he was a quick study and ran with what knowledge he had attained. At the same time, my mother was working very hard as a “costurera” (seamstress) in the clothing factories of the L.A. Fashion district and surrounding areas. The pay was not good because the bosses knew that most of the workers were “illegals” and they took advantage of their situation by paying them below minimum wage. Regardless of that, it was the only job that she could find, so she stayed. There was another advantage to staying there: she didn’t have to pay for child care. No, the factory didn’t provide child care. My mother took me with her as a baby, would sit me down in my car seat next to her sewing machine, and got to work. She watched me and worked. When she needed to change my diaper, the bosses were at least kind enough to let her step out for 5 minutes.

This was our life in Los Angeles.

We moved around the first few years. Fist, we lived in someone's garage, then in someone else’s garage, then we moved into a trailer home. My mother submitted the applications for legal residency under the amnesty act of the 80’s and they were both given their green cards. Legal status attained, my parents, with the help of my aunt, were able to gather enough money for a down payment on a broken-down house in South Central L.A. I was 4 at the time and my sister Nancy was born soon after. Times were tough. My parents rarely had enough money for a proper trip to the grocery store after all the bills were paid. They refused to accept welfare or food stamps, but many times we did have to resort to the local church and other charitable organizations. We never had money for Thanksgiving dinner or for Christmas presents and I do remember standing in line with my mom, and baby sister at the Rescue Mission during Christmas season just to get a box of food, a pair of shoes for each member of the family, a couple of blankets, and a toy that some kind-hearted person somewhere had donated.

Eventually, my dad learned his trade well enough that he started his own small business in hardwood floor installation. He was very good at it and began to climb out of the dump; little by little, but by his own diligence and hard work. After a few years of dodging bullets in S.C.L.A., my parents decided to get us out of that neighborhood and to a safer one. They bought a house in Pacoima. Now, Pacoima isn’t the nicest neighborhood, but it was way better than the last one so my sister and I thought we were suddenly rich. Our parents’ American dream was starting to manifest itself. My dad always dreamed that his hard work would some day allow him to buy a nice plot of land and have his own “rancho” in America. My mom dreamed of getting an education for her kids and for herself. We weren’t quite there yet, but we were going somewhere. My dad kept working hard at his flooring business and my mom found a job at the Price Pfister factory in Pacoima. It was the largest employer in the San Fernando Valley and they offered great benefits. Things were looking up… Until suddenly they weren’t.

When I was still in middle school, Price Pfister decided to move its factory operations out of the U.S. and into Mexico. They began to lay people off and this spawned a protest from displaced workers and angry valley residents. My mom lost her job and we took to the streets and started protesting. The factory still moved to Mexico, but because of pressure from the worker union and the media attention, Price Pfister agreed to pay for the displaced workers to get job training in another field. This was a huge victory for us because my mother was able to go to school and study English and child development which she later used to get a job as a Special Ed Paraprofessional at L.A. Unified School District. It was at that age that I learned that standing up for one’s rights and getting an education is the way to get ahead.

So why did I tell you this really long story? Because my parents worked very hard to get ahead in America and they were going somewhere, but when the economic crisis hit a few years ago, my father’s business took a hard hit, his mortgage skyrocketed, and he lost his home. He had to move out of his house with his two youngest children (my parents have now been divorced for a while) and was forced to move in with his sister. He’s been working very hard and trying to get as many clients as he possibly can, but it just isn’t enough. He now lives with his current wife in the Mohave Desert because it’s the only place he can afford. Because of all of that, he has not been able to keep up with child support payments and my mother, now single and responsible for my two youngest siblings Sandra and Jonathan, has to support two kids and pay the mortgage on that house in Pacoima. She struggles to make the payments and there is the looming threat of being laid off just like so many other school employees have been laid off due to budget cuts caused by a collapsing state and national economy.

Maybe you have been only lightly affected by the U.S. economic crisis and that’s great. I’m glad that you’ve been ok. But unless you’ve actually been at the bottom, you cannot expect my family, and millions of others with similar stories, to start out at the bottom again. Unless you have been at the bottom, you cannot fully comprehend the devastation of this regression. I have seen my father’s eyes. They no longer laugh like they used to when I would sit and watch him entertain his friends with his guitar and Mexican folk songs. They no longer tell of dreams and aspirations but of the harsh reality of the country he immigrated to with all the best intentions in the world. My mother is the only one who still laughs and dreams despite being downtrodden. I cannot sit idly by and watch the fire leave her eyes like it has in my father's. The least I can do is to uphold the dreams and aspirations that they instilled in me and fight as hard as I can. Not just for them, but for all the other people in America and in the world who keep trying to realize their own dreams only to be knocked down by faulty economic systems.

Being that I don’t currently live in the U.S., I took the opportunity to protest in Seoul. I had no comments to make on the Korean economic system because I’ve only been here a short time and I still don’t understand it. I was there to stand with my fellow Americans because the problems in America, like it or not, affect the world.

If you have stuck around to read this entire blog post, I applaud and thank you. I know it’s very long but I really thought this needed to be said.

As for the protest itself, it was quite peaceful yet powerful. I ended up at a smaller protest in Yeouido Park near the Korean Stock Exchange. It was a great feeling to see everyone - Americans, Canadians, Spaniards, other foreigners, and of course, Koreans - stand up for their rights as global citizens.

Special thanks to the lovely man who worked the weekend shift at the U.S. Embassy for answering my after-hours call and advising me on the dos and don'ts of protesting as a non-citizen in Korea before I actually went to the protest.

Fabulous Beijing and Everything That Accompanies It

It's been quite a few months since I've blogged. For some reason I really grew tired of it and I've not been a very good waygook blogger about it. But I just came back from a trip to Beijing, China and I feel that this merits a blog post. I made a long video about the trip and I'm very pleased to announce that Youtube has actually kept their promise in letting me upload super long videos. It was quite a surprise as I thought I'd have to split it into 3 or 4 shorter ones. Either way, here it is. I put a lot of time and effort into this (with my non-existent video editing skills), so I hope you all like it!

:)