Last night I was wondering if I'd ever seen a man get kicked in the balls... and then I remebered this little story....
I love teaching, but I especially love teaching other people spanish. I'm very proud of my culture and feel that the best way to share it with others it to, of course, teach them all the Spanish expletives that I know.
My favorite is puto. It comes from the word, puta, meaning bitch/whore/female dog, but the adding the "o" at the end, makes it masculine, which I don't think technically has a meaning other than just being vulgar.
One day I was feeling rather educational, as I often do, so I taught our church secretary, Smith, the word puto. I just happened to omit the real meaning the word, and I just happen to add on that it meant nice man, and that the very next time he saw my friend and spanish-speaking coworker Jairus he should call him puto at the top of his lungs, because spanish speakers LOVE that.
I was lucky enough to be in the room when it happened. So yea, I've seen a man get kicked in the balls.
At Namyoung we hug. In a country where hugging is reserved only for immediate family in only the most extreme circumstances, I happened to be placed at the school where we hug. For everything.
This phenomena is due largely to the works of Pastor Yoon Seong Hyeon. Or as we call him Pastor Saint (not for any reason except for that is what his korean name translates into English.) Saint spend a significant amount of time in New Zealand and in Australia and picked up a few habits along the way, sitting on floors (unheard of in this country) and, of course, the hugging
But that's not what this blog is about. It's about how I got Saint to explain what a sphincter is this is a little long, so you may want to put the kids to bed first.
Korean Lesson: In the Korean language there is such thing as a double consonant. Let me give you an example: The word for room is bang but the word for bread is bbang. the latter is said as if someone were to punch you in the stomach while you were saying the word.
Now, through a very dear friend, I found out that the korean word for sphincter is ddont ggo. (like don't go, if you get punched in the stomach twice). got it. good.
As I am leaving korea for good in a month, my pastor has been trying to convince me to extend my contract en corea. Usually when he passes me in the hall he say, "don't go!" Last sabbath, I seized the golden opportunity I had been waiting for!
After seeing him during church he gave me his usual "don't go!"
This is how the rest of the conversation went...
Jael: Pastor, Sean told me that don't go is a bad word in Korean, could it be true? Saint: Really don't go? hmmm (thinks about it) don't go.... OH! ddont ggo! Jael: Yeah. Pastor, what in the world could it mean. Saint: oh haha (blushes) it's the exact point... you know... back here (points back there) where it comes out when you (gunts like he's dookying) Jael: Huh? Saint: You know, (grunts like it's a big one)where is comes out. the exact point. Jael: OH! I see. Boy that Sean is terrible! Thanks Pastor, happy sabbath! (smiles and walks away)
I hate my schedule this term. I start at 7am in the morning, and end at 9:10pm (with a rediculously long break in between). I'm expected to be happy and cheerful this entire time (bitches). However, God has granted me an awesome 8:10 class. They are all really funny and energetic which gets me through that difficult final hour.
There are three students in particular: Jack, Danny and Son. Danny is a 20 year old college student and the class clown. Jack is an office worker in his late 20/early 30s, who should really know better and Son is their shy and quiet friend, who should really find a better crowd to hang out with.
For some reason, the first two get their kicks by reminding me that they are single (there's also this perception here that black girls are uber sexual, where would they get that idea)while poor Son just blushes and smiles. Their comments are funny at first, but then usually get old and annoying, so I pretend that I don't hear them.
But I couldn't ignore this one.
Danny: Teacher, do you like ice cream? me: Yes, Danny, I love ice cream. Danny: Well, he's chocolate, I'm strawberry and he's vanilla. Pick a flavor. Jack: This is an important question, so we would really appreciate an answer. Son: (Blushes and smiles)
I couldn't hate. That was really clever for level 1
I kind of had this fantasy that being a missionary in Korea would some how automatically make me thin. Like, I'd just lose 30 lbs without even trying. I mean look at Day and Ellen. Well, what those bitches forgot to mention is that they work their asses off at the gym. We all know day can get down on a treadmill, and Ellen's significant other is a personal trainer. But silly me thought I could have all the rich and kim that my heart desired (then take a nap) and when I woke up the lbs would just be gone. Well that wasn't true. Boy was my face red.
So, in august, I decided to get a gym membership, EXPENSIVE AS HELL!!! $45 for the month- you think that would make me go? NOPE. In the entire month of august I went 3 time. That's $15 a visit. So, september, I turned over a new leaf. No more of this being fat shit. I'm doing a sort of biggest loser competition with 2 teachers from school. And let me tell you, i'm winning. I'm low carb (which is hard to pull off in Korea) I've been going to the gym every afternoon. And on wednesday Jin, the gym guy said "Hi, Jael, nice to see you again!" That mean I'm an official gym rat if the owner of the gym knows my name. I'm so offical it's not even funny (hence the title).
And, according to Day, my breasts have reduced in size, which is a good sign, cause I've already lost 2 kilos (which is 4.4 lbs) HURRAH FOR THE OFFICIAL GYM RAT!!!!
If you don't know about South Korea in the summer time. Let me school you. It's humid. Really really humid. Meaning, you walk out of the shower and dry yourself off and three seconds later you're wet. (with sweat, for those of you who didn't understand). Consequently, the second I stepped off the airplane, my forehead decided to revolt.
Jael's forehead: What?! You didn't tell me the weather was going to be like this! You bitch, I tought we had an understanding that you needed pre-approval before coming to a place like. That's it! You asked for it! Come on guys! Do your thing!
1000 pimple army: YAY!
But that's not the point of this blog. The following conversation is:
Sylvia: Teacher! Are you in love? Jael: No, Sylvia, I don't think so. Why? Sylvia: Your temple. (gets uncomfortably close to Jael's forehead) pop, pop, pop. Jael: (Backing away) They're called pimples, Sylvia. Sit down, please. We have to start. Sylvia: In Korea, they say that when you fall in love your hormones change. (gets closer) And teacher, you're temple, pop, pop, pop. Jael: Thank you, Sylvia. Sit down.
(Sexy)Sean is one of my favorite boys in TIC (Total immersion course at the language school I teach at-- he basically stays at the school from 9-5:30 every day learning english). He's really smart, loves everything about the english language and is kinda a big brother to everyone in the group.
Here's a recent conversation I had with him...
(Jael walks into the room wearing a dress)
Sean: Wow, Jael, you look beautiful today! Why are you wearing a dress? Jael: Oh, I haven't done laundry in a while and all I have left is really fancy stuff Sean: (huge smile on face) so... are you... wearing your mother's panties? Jael: Excuse me?! Sean: Are you... wearing... you're mother's panties (looks at Jael like she's an idiot) Jael: Why are you asking me that?! Sean: Because I saw friends yesterday and Rachel says she wears her mother's panties when she doesn't do laundry. So... are you wearing your mother's panties? Jael: OH!! It's granny panties! And you're not allowed to ask me that! Sean: (realizes what he just said, and blushes)
Dear Jael, When you win the Oscar for best original screenplay you will thank me...
For you Mother: "Honestly Jael, you should really hurry up and have children young. Then you can gain even more weight and have gastric bypass surgery!"
For your best guy friend: (On the phone with the girl he's not dating, but 'talking to', and who you suspect he's fucking) "What? Why are you jealous? I'm just with Jael... BELIEVE ME, you have NOTHING to worry about!"
For your boss: "Oh it was TODAY you were going to leave early? Can you just quickly fix these for tomorrow's conference call. THANKS you're the BEST!"
For your brother: "oh, you're really going to wear that? Alright then, you do you."
Jassi Jaissi Koi Nahin Esti Ha'mechoeret Verlibt in Berlin Ne Rodis' Krasivoy La Fea mas Bella Lotte Yo Soy Bea Ugly betty Maria, I Asximi
What do all these have in common? They are the remake of Columbian telenovela, Yo soy Betty, la fea which ran succesfully from 1999-2000 to rave reviews from both critics and viewer. Despite the obvious differences in cultural nuances, these 9, count them, there are 9, remakes have essentially the same storyline: An intelligent, yet socially challengened and physically unattractive young woman, in her early to late twneties (depending on the series) has trouble finding a job because, despite her outstanding curriculum vitae, she fails to impress any potential employer because of her looks (or lack thereof) She eventually finds employment in the most unlikliest of places, be it at a fashion magazine, a modeling agency or a posh advertising firm (again, this is dependant on the series.) Typically, she is placed as the secretary of a young urban, very attractive professional, with an equally attractive girlfriend (who, through creative camera angles and menacing music, we are quickly informed will be the romantic rival of our Betty...or Maria... or Lotte or whatever) While first disgusted by her looks, her boss eventually learns to appreciate her work ethic, kind heart and loyalty to him. But he also possesses a sinister side, one capable of making her believe that he loves her to get something out of her (money, loyalty, etc). While unaware of his plans, our heroine is on cloud 9, and we're right up there with her. He loves her. He HAS to. But all of a sudden she finds out that the dream she had been living is all a lie. Her heart breaks and ours does for her. He never really loved her, he was only using her. Suddenly, our girl, who was made to feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, realizes how ugly she really is. Why is it that in at least 9 different countries with 9 different cultures the same storyline seems to hit some sort of chord that translates into the series being an instant hit? The answer is obvious- because we all love a Cinderella story. Except that we secretly resent the fact that Cinderella does not have upperlip hair, a unibrow and severe myopia. OF COURSE the prince would fall in love with her floor-scrubbing ass. She's Cinderella! The fairest of them all! but what about the rest of us who can't be Cinderella cause we wear size nine shoes? What about the 73% of us that wear a size 14 or above and can't find ways to measure up?
I say to all you Betty's, Maria's, Jassi's, Lisa's, Lotte's, Letti's, Bea's, etc. Keep your heads up:
Eventually, our sinister young urban, very attractive professional, with an equally attractive girlfriend realizes that he really IS in love with our girl, (BEFORE she gets the makeover, no less). But she, being the kick ass heroine that she is gets the makeover anyway, just so she can fuck with his head. Until finally, in the last 3 episodes, she lets him out of his misery.
AND THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER
(now enjoy the lovely montage of all the versions, set, of course, to Britney Spears)
Upon careful research and consideration…(please tell me if I’m wrong here, because I might just be projecting)… I find that at least 99% of the human population, even the most stable ones, (and I’m sure they exist) have the same biggest fear: ending up alone and fat. While I happen to have mastered both these arts, it still shocks me how we all secretly share this sentiment but no one really talks about it. Maybe that’s why we feel lost and somewhat naked when we forget our cell phones at home or why “you’ve got mail” sends chills up our spines. It validates the fact that somewhere out there, there are people who are just as fucked up as I am, and maybe, just maybe, I can trick one of them to falling in love with me before he finds out that I (insert vice here: i.e. bleach my mustache hairs/slept with his brother or sister or both/am secretly nauseated by the smell of old people). Only to be preoccupied with keeping that secret once I finally have Mr. Perfect(ly fucked up) in my death grip.
Now that I’ve let it slip that I’m a romantic allow me to recount the top three reasons why I will, in fact, end up fat and alone:
1)One of my best friends told me that if I graduate from college without an engagement ring that I might as well give up my vagina for lost (He said this when he was in a relationship with a girl who left his ass after about 3 weeks, and he ended up graduating without “an engagement ring” as well. Hmm…I wonder if his logic applies to penises as well)
2)The day I returned home from college, my mother told me “you really need to start going to the gym again because fat people don’t get married” (It sounded even worse in Spanish)
3)I was set up on a blind date once and I found out that it didn’t work out because the guy “doesn’t like black girls, especially if they’re fat” (but listening to techno and living with your parents is SO COOL)
Two of my best friends just recently told me that they think I'm just like Bridget Jones. While she's, of course, one of my favorite literary and cinematic characters, I couldn't help but think: WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT?! Bridget is a fat, man-crazy, neurotic twit who's self-esteem hangs on the possibility that a man, albeit a hot man, will love her hopeless ass.
I'm not really sure what the implications of that are, but I just know that this is THE YEAR that I figure it out, and by december everyone will say, damn! this was Jael's year. it was the year of Jael.
