Dear Folks,

    Today I have a chance to write a little, as my Korean teacher did not come to class.  She may have the sniffles.  About once a week, she does not show, so I get about four days a week of fairly good study.  In fact, this is the best study I've had perhaps ever, on Korean.  I am better at Korean, which makes me learn at a faster, and more enjoyable rate.  I have some good texts.  I am older and more mature ... do not expect magical leaps forward perhaps.  I have a good relationship with my young middle school aged teacher (a student of mine for the past five or six years); we get along famously, with plenty of giggles and nice asides peppering our studies.  That, and we both share a fondness for food (usually wholegrain bread and blueberry jam, and cappuccino, stick version) to spice up our study time.  She is a great pleasure to be with, and that is critical in learning a language. 

In fact, I try very hard to focus mostly upon just this element in the classes that I teach: breaking down the affective learning barrier, which is in ESL parlance, the collection of fear-laden, anxiety-ridden, and animosity-filled psychological contents people carry in regard to their perceptions of contact with the culture(s) which represent native speakers of that language, in their unconscious.  This barrier may not infrequently present a formidable barrier to acquisition of the target language. 

I do all I can to rub my belly and pat my head, smile, and bend over backwards to make my students feel not just comfortable, but entertained and delighted to be there with me.  This is tricky, especially when you serve such a fractured, rapidly changing, heterogeneous population, as in South Korea, as when you teach such a variety of age groups, from widely varying backgrounds, the way I do.  Hence, despite logging over 30,000 hours of actual teaching, I have continued to gain expertise in this ability to entertain South Korean students over the years. 

I believe the advent of TV had a homogenizing effect on the population here, but there still remain virtually insurmountable chasms between various groups.  My students tell me of different types, with whom they "will have nothing to do."   I believe that would change if they were forced to work together against some common enemy, such as a natural disaster, or something.  But the way it is, they just follow their own groups in singular loyalty and do not seem to entertain the value of engaging those from different groups. 

Speaking Korean helps me immensely in coming to understand South Koreans.  They do extremely poorly on English tests, relative to students of other nations,with the exception of perhaps Japan.  One reason I conjecture is the greater difference in the grammar structure of their native language.   Another could be their rote study methods, which unwittingly seem to engender a seething level of dread and distaste for authentic learning, represented, as it were, in their minds as being a meaningless repetition of memorization that has come to be, for them, anything but fun, perhaps solely because they did not individually "order" it.  I know I love memory work.  But then, I've nearly always focused on it as my servant, at my beck and call, utilizing it only when it suited me. 

Another factor which clarifies my perception here is the fact that virtually all of my hours of teaching experience here has been on the free market, where you sink or swim, live or die based largely on your most recent efforts and successes.  Working on the free market is illegal for foreigners who are not married to South Koreans.  However, this type of work has zero restrictions and helps in several ways when doing polling (both formal and informal), and gathering information about the society: 

1. I choose the content of our class discussions -- particularly as they are too shy to oppose much, but I do have an eye for what keeps their interest.  Herein, I stick to ultimately meaningful discussions, revolving primarily around moral and ethical considerations, with no topic off limits, and every slant designed to induce most fervent interest.      

2. I do not "enjoy" the pacifying effects of working within a monopoly, as goes on in the public school system.  They have little incentive to improve their teaching methods, and little reason to maintain vibrant interest.   

3. Working in the privacy of my own home, and with group sizes (1-4) which are so small as to be exceedingly rare in public schools and illegal hagwons (small evening schools), I enjoy far greater lattitude to speak frankly, and more important, my students enjoy far more freedom to pursue "off-limits topics" and respond candidly.  In a more formal setting, students are cowed by each other, with the heavily conformist strictures of this Oriental society, heavily influenced by Confucianism yet.   

Love, Padooker  

Dear Folks,

Affection & Attention:

Affection is good, when you're young, if not always, but essential for proper development in the young.  My youngest one insists on me picking him up and holding him while I type, and carrying him about the house while I do chores.  It is slower, but it works, and my arms are stronger for it.   That, and for the older ones, too, I lavishly laddle loads of affection on my burgeoning brood. 

Attention from parents to help children find ways in which they excel is critical as well.  My oldest son is really into insects.  We got him a lot of books on that.  My daughter likes art, biking and going places, doing things together. 

I, like each of my five children, am native Asian, but probably not the kind about which you are thinking.  I teach English here in South Korea, and I therein more easily realize that most people from South Korea do not really mean "a person from Asia" when they say "Asian."  Rather, by "Asia" they mean strictly the Orient:  Japan, Taiwan, South Korea or Mainland China, which not only excludes most of Asia, but throws into the mix two nations which are islands, not even a part of the Asian continent. 

Imitators to Scholarship

The pressure from parents and teachers to sit with books so many hours here in Taejeon greatly impairs my students' ability to fundamentally learn and develop,as well as to excel in academics, in any meaningful understanding of scholarship(학식). 

If they had more time for play and sleep, in their youth, not only would my students be more educated (and better with English), but they would go on to produce more patents and garner more coveted scholarly prizes as adults.   

Mulling things in your head while playing, in freedom (not the rigid parameters of what you get in "playing" soccer, computer games or signing up for a dance or padook hagwon), allows your brain to absorb and use knowledge properly, and buddy it sticks, is useful for retrieval at any subsequent time.  (For example, I had a buddy in the army once exclaim to me that he couldn't say how many times he would be climbing a wall to get away from the cops, or an angry husband and suddenly remember the Pythagorean Theorem in order to figure out where next to put his hand or foot for maximum leverage ... which reminds me that the best place to buy your everyday juggling needs here in South Korea, Land of the Morning Calm, is a flower by the same name:  www.handfoot.co.kr.  Whudduyuhknow?  Small world, huh?)

Au contraire, sitting in front of books all day with no sense of self in freedom makes it exceedingly difficult for the brain to make sense of any facts crammed into it, and leaves the jumble of facts virtually useless in later life, only there to foment despair. 

Suffice it to say that here in Taejeon, South Korea, we need to learn to allow children to play, which means fathers need to come home from work on time to take kids to the parks and other places for safety in monitoring, which would require that they drink less.  And mothers would have to stay home more from coffee shops and shopping in order to be around the house when children are not at a series of hagwons all afternoon and into the evenings.  At least that is what would be needed here in this part of Taejeon.  Hopefully other places are not so bad. 

Down by the River:

Yesterday, we went out for a bike ride, down by the river.  I shall include some photos here. 

I tell you what, my youngest son does indeed like to dance.  Whenever he hears music, he starts moving.  It's beautiful.  Maybe he got it from me; I used to dance a lot, and still do some with two of my young ones, those who took ballet.  I, too, took ballet and modern dance, my first p.e. class in college, at UNC-CH.  It was a lot of fun, but I quickly realized then and there that I had waited too long, with a body that was way too stiff to become a professional dancer.

Me & My Little General in Weolpyeong Park

Dear Folks,

In my Korean Language study this morning, there was a sentence, "이왕에 가기로 했으면 가야지."  This translates roughly as "If you have decided to go, you had better go."   I like that.  It is reminiscent of the venerable dictum, "Do your sacred business or get off the pot."  

 My Clever Lad climbing up the Door Frame, with a smile

We go to Krispy Kreme Doughnuts from time to time.  I may have mentioned it before, but have never gathered a substantial number of photos to illustrate our time together in this context.  Be advised,  I will attempt that now, herein, if I can find the photos.  Well, I uploaded them to www.flickr.com/photos/wnlong.  Check there if you are innerested. 

  My Little General Happy on the Floor

The Unintentional:

Well, I must do something to make a living, like I felt I must major in something while in college.  But, I have found that those things which I began to do relatively well were ones which I did not really intend to do, develop.  Perhaps it is that God has stronger influence on me in the development of things I do not hold so dear in pride.

When in college, I started writing a lot.  I got better at it.  But I didn't mean to do it, never set out to make a writer.  Now, I take a lot of photos.  I don't know where this is going, but it surely does alter my behavior.  I will take two or three hundred photos on an outing, walking about town with my children.  Most of them are nominal duds, but occasionally a real rocking horse winner comes to the surface.  I enjoy looking back over them in my home, on my computer, but don't really have as much time to do that as I would like.  I could see myself becoming a real addict, and not getting much else done, in the future, when our one-year-old gets on his own more.  Right now, he depends on me tending him just about all day long.  So, I do.  (He's asleep right this minute.)  But, the point is, I am an English teacher and father/homemaker.  I bought a good camera last winter, only because I knew we needed one, had for a long time, to record the childhood of my children.  It has morphed into much more than that. 

Sunday School can be a blast

I now take photos of buildings and people in Taejeon and get some that I think are rather good.

Dear Folks:

Above is our turtle, which we may end up keeping in our family, after talking with a friend this morning who reminded me that South Koreans are not too good to pets.  One student said he would take it, but his mother would only let him have one.  As soon as I made it clear that my children wanted the two turtles to be kept together, as they were friends, I watched him think for a second after which he announced, "OK, I can take both."  I strongly suspected he figured he could meet his mother's demands and ours as well, by dropping the turtle off just anywhere between our home and his, letting it fend for itself.  That, and he would have dibs on the one he liked the most.  My children could not accept this distinct possibility.  They know how the children think here, under severe pressure from their strict mothers about having many possessions, let along pets of any sort. 

Well, it is morning, Dear Reader, and I sit solemnly before my computer, my bowels rich with the red meat and red wine of yesterday's evening meal.  If we have eaten steak before in Taejeon, it surely has been less than a handful of times.  My memory is not so great anymore, but with My Flagship (oldest son) complaining of small aches and pains, I felt that he might not be getting enough good quality animal protein.  In fact, I first bought pork, 540 grams for 6400 won, at E-Mart about 5 or 6 days ago, but my wife did not feel it in the bottom of the backpack I used to bring things home, and left it there, after placing the backpack atop our bookshelves.  I got the pack down yesterday to use again, and smelled something rank.  Yes, you guessed it, Astute Reader; the pig meat had gone bad in that time.  I bought the steak (bovine) in order to compensate for the lack of pork.  It worked.  My children were delighted, eating something they could not remember eating before.  I, for one, was feeling very masculine sitting there on a low stool drinking red wine and eating real cow meat.  I can't remember eating cow meat.  There was something manly about it.  Don't know what.  It may be entirely image.  Curious. 

With my oldest son this morning, I saw episode 17, of the 1970's drama "Kung Fu," entitled "Night of the Owls, Day of the Doves."  A young lady asks Kwai Chang Cain what he intends to do, when he is fixing to leave her brothel.  He says, "I will continue searching for myself."  She says, "Is that all you plan to do"  He responds, "There is nothing else."  She accuses him of being selfish, "That's all Shaolin Priests think of, themselves."  She later implies that they have even a lower regard for women.  Her parents sold her to pay for their son to go to the temple to study and become a Shaolin Monk. 

Above we have My Little General in the bakery (Left) we often frequent before taking him to his Nori Bahng (daycare center ... Right). 

Those monasteries depend on regular gifts to the temples to survive.  Here in South Korea, they even get state support, in that the national parks.  Whenever we go to Kyae-ryong Mountain State Park, just outside of town, we pay a dollar or so each to get in, and all of that goes to the Buddhist monks who live there.  They have the shaven heads, but it seemed a tad incongruous to me when I first saw them riding in SUV's down the single lane paved road which connects their monestary to the outer community, which all guests normally walk along.  It is a beautiful little walk, about 1000 meters, and lined each side with beautiful shade trees along a creek.  The trees are gorgeous in Spring, with cherry blossoms. 

Note: With my detective skills fully honed, I deduced that those trees were in fact cherry trees, noting the blossoms, and through experience having come to realize that one thing leads to another. 

Kung Fu Drama

I bought all three seasons of Kung Fu from Amazon a few months ago, thinking my children, especially the boys, could learn something about nonviolence as a way of life.  However, the young man, David Carredine ends up kicking somebody's butt in every episode.  He gets thrown in jail a lot, too.  Still, they enjoy it, as does My Dandelion, my daughter.  That, and my wife enjoys it, so it's here to stay.  It keeps'em all busy, learning the English in the backroom, our TV room.  Plus, it cost me only about 75 dollah, so there's something to that, the thrift aspect.   

Today's Itinerary:

We will probably go on our bikes to swim at Yoo Seong's Sports Center, weather permitting, of course.  Other possible activities would include juggling at the Town Hall Park, where we can also get a doughnut.  It is about a 30 minute walk there from my home, and we enjoy the walk very much.  That area has a Krispy Kreme factory that graced us with its presence about a year and a half ago, being the first in Taejeon, and maybe the first in South Korea, Land of the Morning Calm.  For a full year it was the talk of the town, or at least the talk of the ritzy neighborhood where we live.  It seems that poor people in Taejeon don't have funds or interest in doughnuts of this calibre.

Given that our pastor is gone back to the US on vacation for this month, we will not go to church, and may actually attempt both activities, as my 3:30 and 6:00 classes have cancelled, for a family vacation.  The two students are in the same family, cousins no less.  But I need to call them and verify, make sure it included both families, as per the e-mail instructions I received earlier. It never hurts to check by phone on these kind of things.

Dear Folks,

I find more and more that it seems the greatest value I render unto others is not so much my professional services, but rather qualities and "services" which traditionally have been regarded as tendering far less value. 

It brings to mind my New Testament professor from college, a Dr. Davis, who once noted that he believed that God uses him for greater value in merely riding around town smiling and waving to people he knows, neighbors and such, than in his primary profession. 

He says this was how he felt because people seem to perk up and get such joy when he and his wife wave to them.  I have come to the same conclusion in my life, that my greetings to people and just small here and there social niceties, snippets of conversation and whatnot, give people greater value than the sum of value transferred in my teaching.  And this makes sense, at least if you look at what I have actually done in response to this growing awareness.  Over the years, I have gradually cut down my teaching from in excess of 60 hours per week (with more hours total counting non-teaching hours) to close to ten weekly hours.

Another thing I see where I will be moving more and more in that direction is child care.  It seems that my hanging out with my children has greater value than the professional services I have rendered.  I watched "Sgt. Bilko" this morning with them, a movie about the US Army, a comedy with Steve Martin. When I watch movies, I tell them what various English words mean.  That's good for them, expanding their vocabulary.  I will add more to this later.  Gotta Go. 

Love, Padooker

Dear Folks,

Pleasant Sabbath Morning:

Thus far today we have enjoyed a pleasant and blessed Sabbath morning.  I slept well, waking at 2:30, 6:00, and finally 9:30 a.m.  Each time I woke, I paid a short functional call to the privy, and checked on all my brood, covering them where they lay exposed to the cool night air, and then went back to sleep.

We are without a church for a month, and that is somewhat strange.  We are making the best of it.  Our preacher and his wife have gone back to the U.S. for a month's vacation.  The preacher's wife gives the sunday school lesson upon which we have come some much to depend. 

Potatoes Galore

Fruit Galore:

I saw the final ten minutes or so of "Blood Brother," an episode from season one of "Kung-fu," a Buddhist based drama on the use of fighting as a central means to bringing about social peace and justice. I saw the first part of that episode yesterday evening for about twenty minutes before popping it out for my wife to watch her maiden episode of "The First Churchills," a historical drama from England.  I bought a few from England to get her up to speed on her English culture. 

English TV Series

For the record, a few years ago, I bought:  "Upstairs Downstairs," "The Pallisers," "Brideshead Revisited," "Berkeley Square," and "Are You Being Served?"  Furthermore, I have had one "Benny Hill" video and a few DVD's of "Absolutely Fabulous," for some time.  I remember Monty Python as somewhat boring, but may also look into that as a possible cultural snippet for my children as they age. 

I wonder about a few other British TV series (ones I have not seen), whether I should buy them for the English language development of my culturally estranged burgeoning brood and welcome comments from informed friends:

"The Forsythe Saga," ($63); 

"As Time Goes By: The Complete Original Series," ($101)

"All Creatures Great and Small: Complete Series,"  ($269)

"Keeping Up Appearances - The Full Bouquet Set" (Vols. 1-8) - Patricia Routledge; DVD  $115

"Men Behaving Badly - The Complete Collection (The Original British TV Series)" - Martin Clunes; DVD   ($77)

Dear Folks,

I feel unusually grand this morning, no doubt an ample tribute to the manifold elixirs (blueberry- and honey- flavored vinegar in water) of yesterday evening's teaching stints I endured. 

I sense a need to select an appropriate font size.  Currently I am working with "four," but not knowing just how it will be presented in the viewmaster par excellence, I must confess that I cannot proceed with absolute confidence.  Hence, I quaver as I type.

I am enamored of the preacher character in a sitcom I have lately come into the habit of viewing, "Deadwood."  He is perhaps the sole noble figure in this sordid comedy.  And he remembers his Bible verses quite well, which makes me wonder about the quality of recent seminary education. 

I study at a seminary, but they do not make me memorize Bible passages.  If seminary study is not about committing the Bible to heart, what is it, then?  It just goes to show that education is not what it used to be. 

I'm not talking mere grade inflation, either, be apprised.  Yes, grade inflation is a thing of opprobrium and ignominy indeed.  But this is a horse of another color altogether.  I warrant you you may see the young sloughing off the oppressive weight of university gravity and affixing their educational aspirations to more nimble and astute competitors in the private realm of education not affected by the traditional channels of accreditation and whatnot, rubber stamps to the powers that be. 

Love, Padooker

Ouch.  My wife had some problem uploading her files to the Blackboard of her university's course management system.  She missed a deadline not because she failed to prepare everything on time, but solely because our computer has some problem when you click on the cut and paste option, a problem I do not yet understand.  I don't cut and paste much, or, I do, but have never experienced any problem, and cannot understand exactly what she means.  

She refused to tell the professor of her mistake because she said it would not have happened had she not cut it so close to the deadline; she would have had time to check it thoroughly and would have caught the error. 

I told her we don't generally operate that way in the West, or that is my understanding.  She still refused to alert the professor to the problem.   She will lose 20 percent from her grade because she turned in the paper after the deadline.  She caught it two hours later, when she logged onto her site to double check and make sure everything was OK.  

She utterly refuses to allow me to get involved in anything related to her work with her degree.  I would like to have written a letter to her professor to explain, but she would not let me.  So, here we are.  Our fortunes are combined, yet I am excluded. 

Furthermore, she practices a double standard.  When I studied in my computer science program last spring semester, she read everything about my course, and knew the syllabus and grade requirements better than I did.  I am the primary childcare provider in our family, and did the programming course "off the cuff," just winging it from one assignment to the next, never having enough time to read the textbook to my heart's content, a most frustrating experience. 

Wifey wanted me to do that course, as a kind of back-up job security plan.  I told her that if I could finish that and do well with it, I would know that I would not mind being a computer programmer.  Well, that panned out to be very true.  I could not have imagined how much I would love programming, particularly algorithm formulation.   There are still a few little commands that I forget, but I made much progress in one semester. 

So, now we know that if need be, if my wife fails to get a job (something she strongly fears, being a non-native speaker of English aiming to teach ESL in the U.S.) and should I fail to earn enough money preaching and in the other ideas I have for private business services, then she would like to farm me out as a computer programmer, par excellence. 

She says that her course of study does not permit the involvement of anyone else, other than the student.  But I don't see why I could not write a letter to the professor and try to explain the problem with our computer, and also her mix-up with uploading.  She got mixed up somehow, flustered, in trying to upload essays for three different one-hour courses at the same time, for the same deadline.   She used to just take one course at a time, and now she's taking three.  She says that that is all her fault, though, implying she has no right to explain her situation and hope for any leniency on the grade.  I told my Mom, a teacher in high school, and she thought surely the professor would see it differently if she could talk directly with my wife. 

One thing about my wife is that she doesn't lie.  That is odd, really.  I mean, she does not even exaggerate.  Of course, I suppose that is a lot easier when you are so anti-social, as my wife...  If you don't say much, then you have far less opportunity to stretch the truth, no?  And that is something my friends have noticed, that when my wife speaks, it is something you would never question. 

I have learned, though, that she is right most of the time.  Maybe too, in this case, she is right; it really is entirely her fault.  It is her computer (or ours), and she knows the disadvantage she has with it, also knows her difficulty with computers.  Too, she spends an inordinate amount of time on her English writing, poring over each sentence with a fine toothed comb.  Too, she's got a grand husband for that, as I sleep with the children while she stays up all night to work, seven nights a week.  She couldn't have a better situation for study.  And, I earn all the money we need.  I do all the shopping, hang the laundry to dry, and wash dishes (though she does that more than I in between semesters). 

The sole chore she does exclusively is one I have zero interest in, and that is going to the bank to handle our money.  I don't like waiting in lines, and I do not know how to manage a money machine.  That, and I am not interested in learning. 

I have never learned how to work a hand phone, and I cannot program a VCR, either.  My children are far better than I on working the TV remote control.  I can do just the minimal functions, like fast forward (DVD actually), reverse, and play.  Oh, also, I can click on the subtitle button, that, and jump forwards by a whole scene.  That's enough for me.  But, my children are all over that stuff.  It's like second nature to them. 

Well, I spouted off.  I believe that is all this entry was for.  I have a fine wife.  Only, she is an odd person in some ways.  I would like to have her blessing to do private work in America.  That is the only kind of work I am interested in. Too, it is what I have done here for thirteen years straight, with grand effect, great pleasure and sublime satisfaction.  But, she believes America will be different, less kind to me as a businessman.  I believe that all businesses are essentially alike, that you merely follow the Golden Rule, providing the same quality of service you would want if you were in the client's shoes.  That's it.  Not for her. 

But, I don't believe God wants me to ever be a wage slave again unless I have no other choice.  I used to deliver pizzas while I was in grad school, and that was fun, and I made good money, but I knew I was not delivering a great service ... just making people smile and get fat.  I don't want to remember myself that way, would you?

Love, Padooker

Dear Folks,

The past few days have witnessed a shift in our TV watching.  Actually, we don't have "TV," per se, but we have what you might call a "TV."  We just don't have any television reception, and that is fine by us, our design in fact.  Plus, I would guess it is all Korean language broadcasting, which we don't need.   My wife is South Korean and places no value on having our children learn the Korean language, which is the dominant reason we don't send them to public schools here.

There are other reasons, for example, the rampant bullying and racism.  Even though my children are fifty percent Oriental, they don't really look it.  They look all white.  That's fine with me; I'm not a racist.  Nor was my father.  He bought a bunch of cheap land in a rural black neighborhood at 300 bucks an acre forty years ago, back when racism in rural North Carolina altered supply and demand such that you could pick up really cheap land that way, if you had no truck with living with Blacks.  We got a twenty-two acre farm for a song. 

Also, I played so much basketball that my dream was to become an NBA player.  Somehow that did not entirely materialize, and I'm now teaching "the English" here in "the South Korea."  But I did learn to speak the Black dialect of rural western North Carolina fluently, having played ball with my neighbors on our court at my home almost every day from age 7 or 8 until I left high school.  And my mutual love with my neighbors made it impossible for me to think of them as "other." 

In fact, Utne Reader, to which I used to subscribe before I got financial obligations of a wife and five children to support, once noted that perhaps the ultimate litmus test of whether you were a racist was to ask yourself the question of whether you would not mind being Black.  A tolerance for "Salt and Pepper" marriage, they insisted, was less compelling, at least to them, and I see their point.  I found that easy to answer, as I knew and loved my close Black friends, so it was easy to answer in the negative, in my mind, to note that I would not mind a bit being Black.  I knew of personality changes I would make with any one of my friends, if I were to suddenly and hypothetically swap places with him, but skin change is just not on the agenda. 

Over the next thirty years, two factors multiplied the value of that land one hundred fold, to 30,000 per acre:  A) Our Black brethren grew in social status and improved their homes, and B) other Whites became far less racist and were not opposed to living in that area.  Kudos for my father. 

In fact, racism is one of the three book-stoppers within my personal censuring filter that make me put down a book, topics which when supported in any affirmative way, no matter how valuable or appealing other topics from the same author may seem to be on the surface, make me just put the book, or article down, and count myself lucky I got only that far in wasting my time with what is "smut" to me. 

So I generally like it when my children can learn about different groups of people.  We have a host of DVD's from the early 50's and 60's, before public TV, too, became more smutty in many people's eyes.  Just the past few days, I noticed that we had two programs which introduced Indians to my children:  "Little House on the Prairie" and "Kung-fu."  I sat there with my daughter just an hour ago and watched one episode in season one from Little House where a Sioux Indian was on the show.  

I dislike it when, as in this show, the writers (and producers) decide to view and depict the Indians through a relatively "thick" Christian filter, imposing strong features of Christianity, such as the Golden Rule, as in the show we watched today, when there is just not such strong evidence that their religion was dominated by love of one's enemy, or at least not to the extent we generally understand it to be within Christian thought and writings. 

I try to explain to my children that some features which we take for granted, freedom of speech and the respectful treatment of women, children, minorities and the underclass in society, are just not as well supported by reliable eye witnesses to precursor cultures here, as our movie producers tend to make them for sale to the dictates of the "yearning modern public."  And that's understandable; if modern people feel guilty for their nation's (at times horrible) mistreatment of Indians, and they now enjoy the advantage of living in relative safety (having won the displacement war), then it is easy to see how they would clamour for pablum which caters to the popular image of the noble savage. 

One thing I do believe is that if American Indians were more loving towards their enemies and women, then their cultures would have been stronger and more viable.  And I do believe that they are not stupid, but that modern day descendents of American Indians are in the best position to pick and choose, glean the best moral influences from the religions of their ancestors (from all races and cultural influences) and then inculcate those into their lives. 

I believe the source of America is from some Italian, right?  Wasn't his name "Amerigo," or something to that affect, and yet it does not bother me that people here in South Korea refer to me as an "American," even though I am a citizen of merely one of many nations sitting on the two American continents.  I like to tolerate the free speech and expression rights of all who address me in any form of communication, so long as it is tendered with a tone of respect and consideration.  To me that is the only way we can live together as a variety of groups, by incorporating tolerance for diversity in expression.  From what I have read the thought police have been on the resurgence in the U.S. while I was gone, with people imposing their firebrand images of politically correct speech on others.  This is not just pathetic, to see our culture going that way, limiting freedom, but sad. 

I hope it is not so bad as it seems from the newspaper reports, with common people proving to have a whole heap of a lot more sense than writers who proliferate on the web.  We'll see when I get there next year.  It has been better than a decade since I've set foot on U.S. soil. 

Education in racism for my children: 

I believe it important to prepare my children for potential racism in the U.S.  Heretofore they have always been on the receiving end of discrimination and oppression.  I want them to become sensitive to the plights of other minorities in the U.S.   My parents say that there is a sizeable population of Hmong people and Laotian people in our rural area now, and they attend the elementary school we thought we would use for our children, for the first year of our return to the U.S., though now that is not so certain, as we may move directly into seminary housing, so much enamored have I become of the seminary education I am getting.

Still, I like the fact that my children are exposed to a variety of cultures on old TV sitcoms and dramas before we make our exodus.  We have The Cosby Show, I Love Lucy, Gomer Pyle, and TAGS, among a host of others, totalling more than 4000 dollars worth now, though I stopped counting at 4000.  And my wife has insisted I stop buying, at least for a while.  "If Mamma ain't happy ain't nobody happy."  Gotta remember that adage, no? 

Dear Folks:

Oh me.  I am just too old, or too something.  I believe my Dad was right when he used to say I had too many irons in the fire.  Let's get a cup a jo for the early a.m.

Piddling Introduction:

I feel like a horse that has been rode hard and put up wet.  But, it's a new day, and I've piddled on the computer for an hour or so.  Actually, I shouldn't say that.  That is my work.  I make nearly all of my money by patting my belly and rubbing my head, as it were, just being entertaining.  I gather news articles of high interest from the internet and use them in class for study content.  So, this morning was spent on business stuff, and I enjoy it.

Master Belly Patter Par Excellence:

Working on the private market, I must be entertaining to retain students.  My private teaching is still the primary source of our income, though now I teach a bit at a university, have for the past two years, but South Korean universities just don't have the cash to pay more than a bit (Pittance sounds bad, and is not entirely true.).   But it is true that they hold a strong monopoly and don't give even half a market rate for your time, actually, less than a third, maybe closer to a fourth, to be exact, when you count in all the extra time (Oh, Geez, no, not even a fourth, or a fifth, when you add in all the time for grading... I didn't think of that.). 

I don't count the commute because I love it, a 30-minute bike ride along side a river, off the road, on a nice rubber path through a riverside park for 90 percent of the way.  That's lovely.  Plus, Wifey wants me to keep doing just that much, teaching two classes, because she thinks it looks good, something official, to the U.S. Embassy, which despite her having five children, all red-blooded Americans, offers no guarantee that she will be permitted to enter the kingdom (with one of those coveted US visas) next year when we make our grand exodus form South Korea (Land of the Morning Calm) to the U.S. of A., "land of the brave, home of the free," and whatnot. 

Land of the Morning Calm:

You know, not to disparage the U.S. one bit (I love my country.), but I like the casual moniker of South Korea a tad better, "Land of the Morning Calm."   Isn't that nice?   I couldn't come up with a better tag myself.  You think tranquility ... mist rising from a still pond in the early aye em, and ... need I say? ... Coffee....     Mmmm...

I don't think of friends in the morning, not in my ideal image of a morning best spent.  Rather, I think of tranquility and solitary thoughts, maybe by a pond.  Water is a good morning friend, still water, though not skanky and stagnant.  Just still for the morning.  That's enough.

And friends.  Friends and coffee mix well in my mind in the early afternoon.  I always liked that time when I lived in Boone, North Carolina, as my daily running (training for 800 meters) duty was done, I had come home, stretched, bathed, had breakfast, and the afternoon was beginning.  I didn't like a crowd, and the business people did lunch at my favorite coffee shop, "Cup a Jo's," ... wonder if it's still there...

Coffee Lovers Delectable:

But I would meet with two good friends (two coffee lovers, and lovers, but not what you might call "socially acceptable lovers," as they were both female, and too, juggling buddies, of mine, club passers, also literary buddies, as we all wrote a lot and read a lot, and they did what you might call "the courageous thing" by majoring in English; whereas, yours truly backed out of a masters in English three times and finally did a business masters ... always afraid he couldn't make enough money to support a big family ... and now look!  Whudduyknow!  He makes his dough teaching "the English."  Live and Learn ... coulda done a master's in English and been fine all along...  still, I got in four or five master's level English courses in the process, while I was pursuing an MBA), and we would drink coffee and take in the afternoon calm. 

College students came in after 6, in bigger numbers, and dominated the night scene.  Between 2 and 5 seemed the perfect time for us, and we remarked on that often, "Hey, you wanna catch the afternoon calm?"  I'll see you there in a few minutes.  My two friends came in a pair, and I always thought of them as such, and now they are broken apart, living separately.  I'm sad their friendship did not last. 

I see no compelling need for people to be lovers, not when they can be friends, but I always believe friendships should last, call me hopelessly romantic and naive.  To me, sex is good for one sure thing, reproduction.  My group, the Southern Baptists are far more liberal when it comes to sexuality, in that we acknowledge the possibility of the "unitive function" for sex, which "justifies sexual relations even apart from the procreative function." (A Theology for the Church by Daniel Akin, p.389)

The Baptist position stands in stark contrast to the Catholics.  According to the same page in my trusty theology primer, "Official Catholic teaching has been for years that in every act of sexual intercourse, the possibility of conception must be present for it to be a valid part of a couple's life.  Thus contraception is seen as 'intrinsically evil.' " 

Two Camps:

It seems that most people fall into two camps on this issue, whether:  A) it is OK to practice some for of inherently sterile simulacrum of sex (say, just for funsies, "sport-coupling," if you will), or whether B) sexual expression (anything evoking the mental aspect) should always be authentic in the fullest sense of the word, fully reflecting of every definition of sex you might proffer to the cause -- which specifically, here, would need to include the biological aspect wherein we see a glad and happy "meeting of gametes."  

Actually, and I hate to complicate the issue, I do not fall neatly into either category, as I sit on a fence with respect to this issue, though I can say that I lean heavily towards the Catholic position, despite being Baptist.  One handy aspect of being what you might call Baptist is that we reserve the right to pick and choose on many aspects of belief. 

While I can hold the Catholic position on this issue and be warmly, fully accepted as a Southern Baptist, I could never go vice versa, espouse the opposite as an bona fide believing Catholic, without belying my statement of faith in adherence to the Catholic church.  They clamp down a lot harder, the Catholics, and in this one issue, I am glad they do, as I believe it gives greater levity and freedom to my life in keeping very close to their understanding, which would not be so nearly available to me had they not promulgated it so clearly. 

Our Bible Readings of Last Night:

Below is part of last night's Bible passage I read with the two of my children who stayed awake during our Hobbit reading.  They enjoy the King James, and demand I move to it to get all information, even though our knock-off version (which we always use to whet our appetites) gets us started, in the groove, so to speak.  But in this case, they wanted to know exactly what happened to Absalom, the gory details, the nitty gritty, never to be satisfied with some prettified rendition made bland for children who would be sheltered and pampered.  

5: And the king commanded Joab and Abishai and Ittai, saying, Deal gently for my sake with the young man, even with Absalom. And all the people heard when the king gave all the captains charge concerning Absalom.  6: So the people went out into the field against Israel: and the battle was in the wood of Ephraim;  7: Where the people of Israel were slain before the servants of David, and there was there a great slaughter that day of twenty thousand men.   8: For the battle was there scattered over the face of all the country: and the wood devoured more people that day than the sword devoured.   9: And Absalom met the servants of David. And Absalom rode upon a mule, and the mule went under the thick boughs of a great oak, and his head caught hold of the oak, and he was taken up between the heaven and the earth; and the mule that was under him went away.   10: And a certain man saw it, and told Joab, and said, Behold, I saw Absalom hanged in an oak.   11: And Joab said unto the man that told him, And, behold, thou sawest him, and why didst thou not smite him there to the ground? and I
would have given thee ten shekels of silver, and a girdle.   12: And the man said unto Joab, Though I should receive a thousand shekels of silver in mine hand, yet would I not put forth mine hand against the king's son: for in our hearing the king charged thee and Abishai and Ittai, saying, Beware that none touch the young man Absalom.   13: Otherwise I should have wrought falsehood against mine own
life: for there is no matter hid from the king, and thou thyself wouldest have set thyself against me.   14: Then said Joab, I may not tarry thus with thee. And he took three darts in his hand, and thrust them through the heart of Absalom, while he was yet alive in the midst of the oak.   15: And ten young men that bare Joab's armour compassed about and smote Absalom, and slew him. 

David:

 That outta learn'im, durn'im.   Enee Waiee ... My wife is very fond of David, of all the secondary characters in the Bible. She says David is easy to identify with, given that he made so many mistakes, and yet she admires that he consistently admitted his mistakes and repented. 

I think that is true, that we make mistakes somewhat regularly, not that they are inherently good, but it is best when we can admit them.  And yes, she has a point, David is certainly a fine model for admitting mistakes.  I hope I don't make mistakes as grievous as some of his bigger blunders, and I can see how I could be viewed as in some degree culpable for much murder and mayhem, if, say, I were to casually (or gleefully) vote for, or lend support to some popular policies, such as the European and U.S. agricultural subsidies, which economists tell us prevent Africans from working their way out of poverty, as the subsidies keep prices on the crops artificially low, pricing poor farmers out of the market.  

Economist also agree that statistically in regard to reducing the deaths due to diseases with a known cause and simple, cheap treatment, nothing comes close to mitigating these manifold,  tragic, senseless deaths like the sort of economic growth that transformed all developed nations into what they are today, from their indigent roots.  It is difficult to know this (from the dismal science), and continue to support farm subsidizes, at least at the gargantuan levels where they remain, virtually unchallenged in the mind of the masses, where democracy rules, as it were.

Wistful Look:

I walked part ways to my fourth child's kindergarten, along with his big sister and him, I saw them across the big road before turning back (with my baby in tow, in my arms, out for a bit of fresh sunshine this morning) to head for home, and this web log.  My fourth child looked back at me several times. I waved. He waved back.  He looked happy and yet wistful. 

He always would rather stay with me.  He goes at 11 or 11:30, when they start at 9:00.  We sleep late, and miss out on the first couple of hours of his kindergarten experience, something I regret.  He comes home smiling, though, so he has a good time.  I need to get them to bed earlier, and I did fairly well this past semester, when the study demands of a computer science course made it impossible for me to mess around in the evenings, but to get them to sleep by 9:30 or 10:00 sharp.  I studied in the mornings, 6:00 to 10:00 or whenever they got up, taking a break to take the kindergarten lad.  He woke up early and went enthusiastically, largely because I always took him, everyone else being still asleep, that, and he rode on my shoulders the whole way, something he loves. 

Retrospective:

As far as I could see him, across the road, heading hand-in-hand with his older sister up the alley way towards his school, he kept looking back. 

Looking back is not always a bad thing, is it?   Good question.  It surely cooked Lot's wife, no?  But I think there may be some situations where it is not only acceptable, but beautiful, even in its inherent evocation of nostalgia and melancholy.

Thinking back on Absalom, once he was stuck there, hanging in the tree, it seems there wasn't a whole lot he could do to defend himself, that, or in one believable fell swoop, make credible apologies and amends to his fellow Israelites.  In human trust, it just doesn't work that way. 

Under the Boot:

Still, I like to see people treat apostates kindly, once they have thoroughly conquered them and have them under the boot, like with Saddam Hussein.  I saw no reason to hang him by the neck until dead.  But, I do believe it was right to allow the Iraqi people to decide that, even though we caught him in his hole.   

Happiness All Around:

Doesn't happiness and love make the world go round a little better?  I think so.  I wish we had some bread about now in our household; that would make me a little happier.  I just cooked a big bowl of eggs for my burgeoning brood, and they weren't too interested.  Odd.  I ate a bit, and left the steaming bowl on the kitchen table, or as we say, "the chicken table." 

Husbanding Service:

I also pitched in and busted out the dirty dishes yesterday between classes, a humongous pile if I do say so myself, to make my wife happy.  She's been super busy and hence unable to do so much domestic work here lately.  But I like to think of her as a "very good cow," provided your image of a good cow includes some being reliable, calm, persistent, loyal, trustworthy, clean, and fertile.  So, I sacrifice my desires and hours to serve her in every way I can.  And this formula, while never understood by my female neighbors (where I'm famous for being seen outside all hours of the day, doing all the shopping and assuming all duties in response to care for the children, ferrying back and forth to school, kindergarten, doctor, and daycare ... while my wife is a mystery, never seen, not in 13 years, rumored to be some weird, reclusive, nocturnal incarnation of the banshee-esque sort in these superstitious parts) has served our family very very well.  I recommend it highly young men. 

South Korean Fertility:

My wife's fertility is one thing she does well, and appreciates, as a gift from God, and basks in the evident glory that is hers in this baby deprived corner of the globe.  Here in South Korea, while we have one of the lowest birth rates in the world, the overwhelming majority of us wish it were higher and laud the women who do have more than average.  Every day I get "thumbs up" from strangers, along with abundant, gushing compliments for my large family, when I go out shopping. 

That, and, the government lavishes cash upon families such as ours.  Kindergarten and daycare are virtually free for us.  (I had to pay 40 bucks at the first of the year for a materials fee.)  Ta Da!  But that is merely a reflection of the general feeling of the populace.  Many young women are infertile here.  Too, many men are overworked, and hence virtually infertile, just too tired to get up the gumption to fertilize their fain, young available wives.  (It is somewhat rare that a man marries an older woman in this society.  In fact, I know of one such situation.) 

One Small Group:

It is one small, but significant, group which jeopardizes our demographic future, or populace as an extant entity (according to Seoul University demographers).  Ten years ago, 14 percent of women aged 30 were not married and had never been married.  Today, that figure is 30 percent.  Huge change in the atmosphere.  Of course, many young women complain that they don't like their memory of their mothers up late worrying about their fathers drinking and carousing about at all hours, doing nothing about the house in the way of domestic chores or child care. 

Too, they were not stupid ... by middle school, they knew just how much more money the family spent on their son's education, vis-a-vis how much less was allocated for them and their sisters.  And sisters, plural is the operative word.  If a family has four children, your run-away-rocking-horse-winner of a bet is that it is comprised of three older sisters and one cherished younger brother, the apple of their parent's (and especially grandparents') collective eye. 

Lastly, they dislike their memories of their brothers being pampered, never asked to participate in chores about the house, while they had to do chores.   And so it is not so difficult to understand how the young women are now thusly struck, impregnated, with a negative image of the married life, at least so far as it includes husbands raised in the South Korean culture in which they, too, were raised. 

Women here earn 62% of what men earn for equivalent experience and credentials.  America is now above 90 percent, and kind of stuck, leveled off.  But, 90's better than 60.  Money is money, and includes some degree of respect in compensation, no? 

Rape and prostitution are high here, but we won't go into that.  That's another whole can of worms, one which greatly bothers many of my fellow expats, those who keep up with those statistics. 

One More For the Road:

While many of you may well have followed Ephesians Five "to a T" when marrying your wife, where she recognizes her duty to "submit to you," as head of the family, "in all things," I implore you to not neglect the follow-up verse which tells the man to love his wife as Christ loved the church, giving himself up for her."  That's a high standard, dudes, and one, I think, that is commonly ignored, if only for convenience, and the freedom to stick around with one's buddies at the local pub after work for the proverbial "just one more beer, Sam." 

Gaping Maws:

I'll see if I can't round up some vittles to feed my yapping brood, fill the gaping maws of my clamoring clutch, something nutritious to keep'em happy while I type away to my heart's content.  Sorry, I've been busy lately and neither updated nor read and posted much these past few months, but I took a class in computer science, to get a start on a short certificate program which would enable me to work in computer science, just get my foot in the door, so to speak, and it greatly eased my wife's concerns that I will never make much money preaching, or in any of my "harebrained," private business ideas. 

Let's see ... there should be some ice cream left. Two days ago I bought a whole bunch, two packs of ten at 3,800 won per pack, of little stick skewered jobs.  Yes! (back from the freezer), I got me a cherry pop, 1.4 grams of fat (cheers!), 21 grams of carbohydrates (good for energy), and 1 gram of protein (don't want to get protein poisoning). 

Good Stuff  & Ice Cream to Break the Fast:

So, it looks like our ice cream bars about as healthy as you can get, or expect.  We're not doing too badly on this count, I would think, which may explain why our children are bustling with health, the very picture of that robust, salutary glow which goes under the banner of hale, salubrious, ruddy, beaming vigor.  After all, you are what you eat, no? 

Yes, I suppose, if you like to think you are what you might call a "determinist" ... and no, perhaps, if you like to imagine God can make treasure out of junk.  And if He can't do that, what good is He?  After all, what's creation for if it ain't good?

Love, Padooker