F*** Cabbies!

I have talked and raved about how awesome the public transportation system is here.  The subways, the buses, and even the taxis are pretty good.  When I was living in Busan I always carried 20,000 Won (around $19) for emergency cab fare.  That cash would get me anywhere in the city that I could ever want to get to, in no time at all.  After the other night, however, I have come to the conclusion that I need to stay as far away from taxi cabs as I can.  It might just be the fact that I am in Seoul or that I had to get a ride after the subway closed, but no matter the reason it sucked. 

Tyrel, a friend of mine from back in the states, was on his way back to the US from Japan and stopped in Korea for a quick visit. Tyrel, you are an awesome human.  I was at work and Rachel was also a wonderful person and hopped the long train ride to go and pick him up.  After I got out of work, all of us decided that we needed large amounts of food.  Seeing as how none of us really gets the chance to eat western food too often, we elected for hiking out to the foreign section of town for fish and chips, burgers, and a couple of beers.  We ate too much (turns out it was 2 for 1 night on said fish and chips) and had a few very expensive beers.  I get out of work fairly late and the subways run only a little past midnight. This is where we ran into trouble. 

With the subways closed, we needed to get home by cab.  I have had trouble getting a taxi in this part of town before, and this night was no different.  It was bitter cold and we were several hours away on foot.  3 separate cabs drove up to us and asked where we wanted to go, shook their head, and then drove off.  One even went so far as to lock their door when we got close, only to unlock them when a local got close.      

       

After several failures, another cab drove up and asked where we wanted to go.  I told him where, he understood and then demanded (around) $40 to take the three of us.  Now I have made this trip by cab before and it does not cost $40, more like $8.  I looked back at Rachel and Tyrel, then my watch, then the cabbie (let’s call him Niko).  I rolled my eyes realizing that this was probably the best that we were going to get.  That’s when I got scared.  Now I knew that cabbies were a little dangerous, but Niko was insane.

Before I talk about that I wish to describe a particular moment that happened a few weeks back.  Rachel and I were walking home from the store and were standing at the crosswalk waiting for the light to change.  I began to notice that several cars had driven past us in the direction that we were walking.  The light was red, but they were still driving.  This wasn’t something small, such as one or two cars, but more like watching traffic slow down for a moment instead of stop.  We watched as car, car, moped, car, taxi, car, city bus, car, car, truck, city bus, taxi, car, car, drove through the clearly marked red light.  Rachel and I have come to the conclusion that traffic signals here are more of what you would call guidelines rather than actual rules.  Which brings me back to being in the cab with Niko. 

As no doubt some of my younger readers have already concluded, Niko was not what you would call a safe driver.  There was an old game called Crazy Taxi that I am now reminded of.  

Yeah, it was like that.  We were speeding through red lights, yellow lights, turns, curves, and in and out of lanes.  We wandered into a bus lane, and even made a new lane at one point as we squeezed through a small space to make a right hand turn that we really shouldn’t have, given the fact that there was a truck coming. Tyrel was gripping the seat.  Rachel was getting queasy.  And I was making peace with the universe.  The good thing was that we got back to our stop in record time. 

For some of you, who thought that haggling was an option at the beginning, consider that he would have just driven off like the many others before him.  I tried haggling at the end of the trip and he was starting to give me this “you better give me 40 or we are going to throw down” look.  Essentially I got robbed.  It was necessary, but I got robbed.  The moral of the story is this.  If you need to take a cab at night in Seoul, be aware that they can pretty much do whatever they want.  If they want to charge more money they will, and they can get away with it because there are no other options.  Oh, and f*** Cabbies.  

The Desk Against the Dark Arts

I sit at a desk.  It’s a very nice, square thing.  My coffee stained mug sits close to my mouse pad, while my phone is covered up with alphabet flashcards.  I have a little candy jar, appropriately labeled: “Danger” and “Poison” sitting on top of some ESL games for most occasions.  To my left is Emma G.  (the new Emma).  To my right sits nobody. 

            This desk has not always been empty.  Indeed, it has seen many visitors over the course of my time here, but none have stayed long.  It has gotten so bad that I have begun to think that either there is something about my body odor or that the desk is cursed.  To my delight however, I am told that I smell great.  Thanks be for a steady cash flow for cologne, deodorant, and after shave lotions.  Since the beginning of this new semester, the desk has had 3 korean teachers come and go.  Consider at the time that I have written this (12/20/12), less than 3 weeks have passed in the semester.  This means that the desk has gone through a new relationship a week. 

            First there was The Man with No Name.  He was a quiet, reserved fellow.  He looked shy, and more than a little nervous sitting at the desk, almost as if he was afraid something would bite him.  He lasted for 2 days before learning that he was required to teach primarily in English.  Next came Hanna.  She was young, bright, and had lived in Melbourne for a few years.  She had personality, a strong smile, and was willing to converse with me.  She lasted 3 days. Finally I come to Jenny.  I am not sure what to say about her because she was gone within 2 hours of sitting at the desk.  2 hours! 

            When three things happen in sequence, science tells us that there may be a pattern emerging.  Now, I consider myself a rational person.  I am well educated and read big, important sounding books.  I am analytical and overly critical at times.  So I have come to only one possible conclusion about what is happening.  The desk is cursed.  Magic and sorcery is the only possible explanation.  The Dark Lord desires my neighboring desk and has cursed it until the day he can take that desk for himself.  Either that or the new head teacher is a real hard ass.  But I like magic as an explanation better.  

Revenge of the Blog!

I know that it has been a very, very long time since I have put myself in front of the warm glow of my laptop screen, no doubt leaving many of my good friends and family (Rachel’s included ) thinking that I am dead in a gutter somewhere, or just lazy.  I would like to think that the latter has nothing to do with my delay, but most who know me know that that would be a lie. I am not completely blameless, however.  I do have a small backlog of blogs that will be published in due time, but in the meantime allow me  to detail the very awkward 2 months that has been my life. 

When last we left our heroes, we were in the process of moving from one apartment to another.  Our lease was for some mysterious reason only 9 months long.  Even several weeks after the move, I am not sure if it was worth all the confusion and anguish that it caused.  Don’t get me wrong, our new place has its nice qualities.  It isn’t a coffin shaped rat hole, nor does it have a strange musty odor to it.  It’s new, clean, spacious and in its own apartment building in a residential area and not above a KFC.  The good along with the bad were wrapped up together, however.  Now, there are a number of details that I have elected to omit for sake of brevity and frustration.  I had an earlier draft of this particular section of the blog that somehow ended up being deleted or lost. 

Now, our move was one of many.  Indeed, like Alice’s tea party, some jerk in a fancy hat screamed “CHANGE PLACES!” and chaos ensued.  A new teacher was on her way from Scotland, Rachel and I were moving into our new place, and John was moving into a new place as well, a few days later.  Not trusting in the competence of the CEO to give us adequate aid, I took it upon myself to start moving stuff in the night before our last day.  I can only imagine the look on the few locals that were awake that late at night as I made trip after trip down the street, once with luggage, and again with bed sheets filled with pillows like some blending of Santa Clause and a tramp.  With little sleep (and a great deal of preparation for the lack of foresight on the part of my employers) we were moved in with few issues.  We were, however, denied a number of contractually guaranteed comforts such as a TV, a table, or a chair.  You may be thinking, why couldn’t we have just taken the ones from our last apartment?  Well those belonged to that apartment and not us, so no we couldn’t take them.  I just about flipped the table over in my boss’s office when I was denied a chair…A CHAIR!  More often that I would care to admit I have had a facepalm moment as consequence to these events.  An example was when my boss texted me saying “Oh hey, do you know who the Wachowski’s are?”  I said yes.  “Well they’re on channel 10 and it’s a really heartwarming story…” “That sounds nice, I would really like to watch it but as you know I don’t have a TV…” I am not sure if my sarcasm was detected through the text, but the point still stands. 

Moving on, I am sad to report a number of failures to organize all of these moves was not unexpected.  There was even a period of time where we were under the impression that the newest teacher wouldn’t be given a bed on time of her landing.  There is nothing that says welcome to your new home like, I know that you’re jetlagged and probably half –delirious from sleep deprivation, mixed with a little culture shock, but here, sleep on this bare hardwood floor, your bed isn’t going to be here for another 2 weeks.   Fortunately, things worked out for Emma G.  (the Scottish one, not the Canadian one, who is Emma L.).  The landlords had a bed in place (conveniently saving the school’s backside) and she was able to get some sleep that night. 

Time has passed since then and both Rachel and I are thinking about the future.  It may come as no surprise to anyone who has kept abreast of my sojourn here that I have decided not to renew my contract at Avalon.  This whole process, which is still going on at the moment, has left my head shaking.  First it was how I was offered (unofficially I might add) a month long break in between contracts to go home and see my family.  Yes, I turned it down.  Wait! Stop!  Put down the (insert fragile object here)(insert family member’s name here). I have a very good reason.   First, I would get a free ticket home and not Rachel.  Second, I knew that this was a sham, because I know their calendar cycle, and there is no room for a month long holiday period that I could have taken advantage of.  Finally, the place sucked.  My suspicions were confirmed as that offer never made again during our negotiations.  Indeed, much of what you could call negotiations was more of a guilt trip trying to get me to sign on for a few months more. 

It’s not as if this is where I have been spending most of my time these last few weeks or anything.  Since the end of Christmas, I have been working what was called the “Winter Intensive period”.  That basically means that I have been working 10 hour days and been getting less sleep than normal.  The one thing that I was really looking forward to was teaching an introduction to music class.  I thought, cool!  What fun it will be to go over what the difference is between an oboe and a clarinet… seriously I thought this was going to be a lot of fun.  The problem was that my students were far too young to appreciate the material.  Also not being given any support material that worked, like music, was problematic.  I ended up teaching Tchaikovsky via Fantasia and Tiny Toons.  The pleasant parts aside though, this last month has been a very long march of drudgery and constant work.  Homework books have been lost, papers have been lost, and more classes were added.  It has sucked.  

So we are in the process of looking for new gigs.  We have sent out a number of resumes and even heard back from one, but nothing solid yet.  Our fingers are crossed.  I thought that it might be best to get back down to safer and less stressful country, like Busan.  It’s warmer, less stressful, and I have even found my old recruiter from my first job.  I choose to remain hopeful.  On a side note it appears that my talent has not gone unnoticed.  I got a phone call a few days ago from none other than Marie A.  Yes, she’s back in the blog.  She has a new school that she is in charge of (don’t ask me how), and offered me a job.  Yes, that was the same reaction that I had too. 

Right so on to the parts that will have people worried.  First of all as I am writing this I am recovering from a case of stomach flu.  It was a moment of “are you fucking serious?”  when I called my boss, explained what was wrong, told her that I had already been to the doctor, and didn’t think that the risk of vomiting on the students or being covered in offending pools was worth the effort of me coming in to work, and she responded “Are you really sure you can’t come in?  Because I don’t know if I can change the schedule with so little notice.” It is moments like this that made me positive that the whole month off thing was really a sales pitch and not in the real deal.  Sad as it is, as soon as I got better, I passed it along to Rachel.  We’re both fine now, but oh what a fun weekend that was…

For now we are back to the usual routine of getting out late at night and sharing dinner.  I don’t feel nearly as tired as I was, and I have been able to even get some work done on other projects that I have been working on.  Still, we are waiting for more news about where we will be going next, and we will keep you posted out there in the ether.