LinkedIn to What? by Randy Kim | Blog | Root Port

My latest blog about how to network through LinkedIn

LinkedIn to What? by Randy Kim | Blog | Root Port

Volunteering Cures

Job hunting.  It’s a term that leaves many people gulping, shivering, and convulsing.  These days, job hunting is merely like hunting down a killer whale with a Mattel-made bebe gun. 

 


For many job-seekers, it involves spending a good portion of your day sifting through job postings, tweaking your resume and cover letters, researching the company, filling out the never-ending job applications.  These applications generally force you to repeat what you wrote on your resume, and go back to your old contacts book for references and address of your previous working places.  The saying always goes, finding a job is like being at a job. 

With every generic response of “Thank you for your application to ___________Company.  We will be reviewing your resume, and if your resume matches, we will get in contact with you shortly,” you spend hours, days, weeks, and then months not hearing any responses, or getting another generic rejection email.

Unfortunately, as the employment drought becomes harder to ignore, many HR and employers begin to take notice, and it can ultimately lead your resume to be filed away into the unknown cyber world of HR sites.  Despite the economic downtown the last several years, how do you avoid resume droughts/gaps?  Other than working at a Starbucks or a retail position, how do you ultimately convince employers that your current experiences are still relevant to them? 

One outlet that others are turning to is volunteering.  The quick downside to volunteering is that all of them are unpaid, and require some time commitments and travel.  However, the rewards of volunteering can be substantial especially to job seekers looking into the non-profit sector. 

As internships are extremely competitive and require you to be in school, volunteering comes with no such prerequisites.  It offers you a chance to showcase your skills and abilities.  It gives you the chance to network with the organization, its sponsors or with other organizations that they’re connected to.  Volunteering keeps you productive in a time where you are spending countless hours job-hunting, and more importantly, it is an experience worth having on a resume, and it shows to your prospective employers that you are staying productive while sacrificing your time for an important cause(s).

The benefits of volunteering bring you closer to the community that you’re working in.  Unlike the corporate world, there is a greater sense of accomplishment when you are part of an organization that helps those in need.  You meet volunteers from various backgrounds.  They, too, can become part of your network.   Though many organizations don’t have enough funding to pay its volunteers, they do make a great effort at rewarding them.  Other organizations have been known to throw dinner or lunch parties, or give gifts to volunteers, but most importantly, they can also provide an important reference contact as you are job-hunting. 

Organizations ranging from youth outreach, community organizing, promoting awareness for Breast Cancer, AIDS, cancer, and other health issues, and civil service projects are just one of the many areas in the non-profit sector that people can get involved in. 

Places to look for volunteering and networking opportunities can simply visit places such as www.volunteermatch.org, www.idealist.org, www.taprootfoundation.org, or join non-profit groups through LinkedIn. 

As things are uncomfortably tight and competitive in today’s market, the opportunity to volunteer provides the convenience and comfort of building your personal and professional skills as you are going through the days of a never-ending job search. 

In the end, prospective employers want to know what you are doing during your job search, and how productive you are during your challenging moments.  For volunteering, it could mean a few hours out of your time making opportunities happen rather than being confined to your computer.  

Copyright © Randy Kim
All rights reserved

Confessions on Mother's Day

This Mother’s Day is a special one for me.  This one will stand far apart from my previous ones.  Thelast 3 years, I had been out of the country.  Prior to that, aside from a few bouquets of roses and flowers, I had never made that holiday as memorable and meaningful for my mother. 

I hardly ever talk about my family, let alone my own mother to anyone.  It wasn’t because I was ashamed of my mother.  I loved my mother as any son can, but it brought a vulnerable side about me that I was uneasy to share with others, including my own mom. 

In my family, I am considered the sensitive one.   I am the creative, emotionally expressive thinker and writer that many of my friends and family see me as.  For an Asian male, it wasn’t necessarily looked at with the highest of regards.  To my family, it was a sign of weakness.  The thinking was that men were to be emotionally thick-skinned, and indifferent in times of despair.  It was that kind of attitude that made me become, at times, emotionally distant from my mom and my loved ones. 

It was often easy to show my sensitivity towards my close friends, and with the volunteering work I have done in the past, but I could never allow myself to be close with my mom as I became older.  The first few Mother’s Day that I remembered were when I used to bring Marigold flowers home from school.  My mom, not a fan of the Marigolds, reluctantly planted it with her other cherished flowers.  I became uneasy about the following Mother’s Day and afterwards.  I felt as though she could never see my appreciation for her, and I had already given up before I became a careless teenager. 

My mother, for years, always seemed to have that aching void in her heart.  She yearned to have that love reciprocated, and expected that from me.   However, my years of repressing my sensitivity wouldn’t allow me to give her that much-needed warmth. 

I never truly made my mom feel appreciated.  Her family escaped a life of hardship and terror from Vietnam.  She worked at her job for 30 years endlessly.  There were weeks when she was working everyday for nearly 80 hours a week.  When my brothers and I were in elementary school, she would get up at 7 am just to have us ready, but the truth is, she would always come home at 2 or 3 am the night before. 

When I was going to the University of Illinois-Chicago (UIC), her company gave me a full-ride scholarship, but it came at my mom’s expense with her hard labor and pay cut she had to sacrifice in order to make the scholarship happen.  Without it, I would be slaving away, paying my student loans, and struggling to make ends meet.  My mom’s sacrifice allowed me to have a safety net.  It allowed me to live my life much more freely, and take risks that I otherwise wouldn’t have taken.  

Living in Korea for 3 years was the happiest time of my life.  I became independent for the first time.  I took on challenges that were personally meaningful to me, and I was able to, for the first time, understand my family’s sacrifices for me.  However, those 3 years weren’t easy on my mother.  My brothers eventually moved away last year, and that made it even more difficult for her. 

Yes, we are all grownups, but to her, it was still 1986.    I would often tell my mom that things are going to be okay.  I was going to come back home after my 3^rd year.  In some ways, at least having me home gave her some solace.

Two days before I left Korea, I called my mom.  I wasn’t in the best of moods.  I was feeling overwhelmed with moving out of my apartment, lugging my baggage around at my friend’s place, making expensive trips to the post office, and saying goodbye to everyone.  For weeks, I felt a lot of anxiety living back home.  I was going to temporarily surrender my independence living at home, and that was not going to be an easy transition for me.  I dreaded it, even as my mom seemed happy about me going back home.  As I got off the phone, I told her I love her and that I was going to see her at the airport. 

Two days later, she suffered a major stroke.  I was already on my way home, and had an overnight stay in Hong Kong when it happened.  I woke up and opened up my MacBook to find out from my brothers that she was in critical condition.  I was emotionally shaken to the core as I hastily made my way to the airport trying to reach my family.  Being on the airplane for 15 hours was unnerving, but it gave me time to review my relationship with my mom. 

There were many painful moments.  There were missed opportunities.  A simple of more “I love you’s”, at least in my mind, could have made my mom’s life a little easier. 

As I arrived at the airport, I hurried to see my mom at the hospital in the intensive care unit.  To see my own mom in pain and with tubes and IVs around her was unbearable, but the second she saw me, she was crying uncontrollably and felt guilty for for being sick on my arrival.  I kissed her on the forehead and whispered,“I’m home.  I’m not going anywhere.”    I lied….I left after 2 minutes because I was going to cry, and I still had the fear of her seeing me get emotional. 

As the days went on, I had many sleepless nights.  I would look in the refrigerator to see the food that my mom made for me.  I would look at the package that I mailed home from Korea that my mom said had already arrived.  I would look at her empty room.  Our house suddenly became lifeless.  It was a sad, sad reminder of what my life would be like without my mom, and not having the opportunity to tell her how much I love her. 

One day, I was with my mom’s best friend and went to the hospital.  My mom, as she was lying in bed, greeted me.  I sat next to her, placed my hand on her hand, and told her everything I felt was in my heart.  I was telling her how thankful I was for everything she had done for me, how sorry I am for not being a better son, and how I can’t imagine not having her around when she still hasn’t seen what her future grandkids would look like.  For the first time, I started to cry in front of her.  I can honestly say that there was no shame or guilt for feeling emotional in her presence.  It was a relief to finally be able to make her hear what she was yearning for. For once, she was able to see my more personal side that I could never show for years.  

This Mother’s Day is not just an important reminder that my mother is still alive, but it’s an opportunity to remind myself everyday why she is important to my life and to the lives of those that she touched.  More importantly, she will continue to hear how much I love her, and I am incredibly thankful to this day that I can say that to her.  


Copyright © Randy Kim
All rights reserved

Sleepless in Korea

Walking into a classroom every morning, I see the majority of my students with their heads down, a few coffee mugs present, a Red Bull or two.  Other students tenaciously look over their exam notes as they anticipate their dreadful exams in less than a week.  This took me back to the old yesteryears of college; however, it was not; this was middle school. 

The night before, I was jogging along at about 11pm in my neighborhood where I can hear the sudden shouting of “TEACHER RANDY---HELLO!!!!!!” permeating through the tight airspace between my eardrums and my iPod earphones playing to the sound of Muse’s “Time is Running Out.”  I turned around and saw my students still in their school uniform coming out of their private academy.  Puzzled, I glanced at the clock on my iPod, and I thought to myself, “is there a curfew for these kids?” To my kids, it was second nature.  To me, it was “Welcome to Korea.” 

I had taught English in Korea through EPIK (English Program in Korea) for 3 years (From 2009 up until the end of February of this year).  Entering Korea, I knew little about the culture and the education that would stand far apart from its Western counterpart.  As I would soon realize, I quickly began to see the effects that the Korean education system would have on these young minds. 

One day, I had an introductory lesson on “Your Plans.”  I asked my students “What are your plans for the weekend?”  Several students replied, “I have to go to school on Saturday or I have to go to my academy on Saturday,” or “I have to study all day on Sunday.”  Perplexed, I asked them “Well, do you have any hobbies?”  They simply replied, “Oh, we play computer games all day or go to the PC Room with our friends.” Certainly, not the kind of enthusiastic, ice-breaking discussion I had hoped for.  Simply, it was becoming rather evident that my students barely had any time nor the ability to be just kids. 

For centuries, Korea is a culture influenced by Confucianism. This brand of cultural philosophy emphasizes the importance of a person or family’s status in their society based on wealth, social, and job position. Education is the symbol of achieving higher status in Korean society.  It is the key that many Koreans feel would unlock the gates that would lead them to fulfilling dreams of being at the top of the mountain.  Only that getting to the top is where many students start to fall when the climbing becomes unbearable. 

According to a 2011 article in Time Magazine, “In 2010, 74% of all students engaged in some kind of private after-school instruction.”  The private after-schools are known as “hagwons.”  The article also states that these hagwons cost at “an average of $2,600 per student for the year.”  Besides the rising tuition cost, there are more private school teachers than there are public schoolteachers across the country. 

The ever-increasing influence of the hagwons has significantly decreased the influence of public schools.  I asked one of my fellow Korean co-teachers about this issue, and she simply sighed and said, “Randy, even though many parents see teachers as an important, respectful part of our society, they don’t completely trust us teaching their kids because having a hagwon means that they can continue to study more, and they have more chances to learn something.” 

As Korean parents are pulling out every penny to support their children’s education, their kids are absorbing the pressure to academically achieve to near-perfect success.  As Korean universities are becoming ultra competitive, students are competing for academic success as early as elementary school. 

It’s simply not just university entrance exams that students have felt pressure from, but there is also a high school entrance exam which can then influence the fate of what university a student can enter into. 

At my middle school, there is such a great contrast from the 1^st year students to the 3^rd years.  The 1^st years enter middle school with their innocence, childish humor still intact but for the 3^rd years, the puberty hits, the studying begins, the expectations grow, the smiling stops, and so does their childhood. 

A typical day of a middle schooler goes much like this: They get to school around 8 am, and finish the day after 3 pm with the exception of a selected weekday where they stay an extra hour.  Generally after dinner, they go to their hagwons and coming home as late as 11 pm.  They also go to their public school every other Saturday morning, and spend a good part of either their morning or afternoon at a hagwon, and in some cases, on a Sunday. 

The life of a high school student, however, intensifies.  They generally arrive at school at 7 am and study into the midnight hours nearly on an everyday basis.  It’s the kind of lifestyle that has worried me as a teacher in my 3 years at my middle school. 

Oftentimes, I would joke around with my other teaching colleagues that our students lead a much more difficult schedule than we do.  As teachers, we get to have vacation days and take time for ourselves, while my students are confined to the books, pencils, desk, and desk lamp during their vacation period. 

During cleaning time at the end of the day, I ran into one of my favorite students, Hyun-Seung.  He sat in his chair, face down, and rather oblivious to the frantic cleaning that his classmates were doing.  I came up to him, poked his back, and asked if he was alright. He slowly raised his head up and said, “No, I’m not okay.”

He then went on to tell me how his father kept pushing him to study.  I asked him, “Well, what time do you sleep every night?”  He answered, “Maybe 1 or 2 am.”  I looked at the sad, concerning look over his face.  I felt helpless as I couldn’t rescue him from the hours of anxiety and studying he had been putting in.  All I could do was listen and be as supportive as I could.

Another student of mine came to me and looked dejected.  He talked about how stressed out he was about his exams for the high school entrance test, and how he had sought out the school counselor for advice and emotional support.  Instead, the counselor focused on his eating habits and reducing his already thin social life. 

Much to my student’s disappointment, it didn’t address the concerns and anxiety he was already having.  He needed someone to listen and understand his problems.  As a teacher, I did my best to at least provide some sort of outlet that he could go to without feeling judged. It is the lack of sensitivity towards students’ emotional needs that became more alarming than my students’ studying habits. 

My former student visited our school one day.  He quickly spotted me, and was quite happy to see me.  I talked with him for a little while.  I asked him about high school and whether or not he found a girlfriend.  I enjoyed having him as my student as he was energetic and humorous, and told him I missed having him in my class. 

He mentioned to me how he missed me as well as his old middle school days.  He was unhappy with high school, his grades were low, and he was looking to transfer to a different one.  I told him to keep his head up, and that I will continue to support him.  It was the last time I would ever see him.  A couple of months later, he committed suicide.

Hearing the news, I was in such disbelief.  I couldn’t imagine any of my students taking their own life away especially when they haven’t seen what they could really do out in the real world.  However, the real world that my student had been living in felt hopeless, and that his concerns over his high school gave him no real prospect of success in college or beyond.  The expectations became too much, and the only outlet he had was to check himself off the planet. 

It’s a moment that still haunts me to this day.  It was a moment that threatened to erase my 3 years of happiness as a teacher in Korea.  I became angry at the way many Korean students are not being emotionally supported by their school, their families, and their society. 

Many Korean teachers and school counselors aren’t taught or given the resources to help students cope with their anxieties, or take pressure off of their studying.  Instead, they are faced with the pressure of making sure their students are preparing for their daily exams and from parents who want to ensure that their child has the best shot at attending a good university. 

Sadly, Korea and Japan are ranked in the top when it comes to suicides.  Facing embarrassment, judgment, and disappointment in front of their peers and family causes them to lose face.  With the lack of available resources to help those coping with anxiety and depression, there are many Koreans that turn to alcohol and smoking to numb their pain, but for others, some have chosen to end their life.

Every child desires to earn approval and acceptance from their family and society, but when they are made to feel that they haven’t earned anything, it’s a burden that they are carrying into their academic performance, but ultimately, into their personal life. 

Ironically, if it wasn’t for the country’s willingness to spend more money on education, my expat colleagues and I wouldn’t have been able to work in Korea.

So in my 3 years, I made it an effort to at least give my students a piece of their childhood back through my lesson plans, and to make myself accessible to students at school.  It was an attempt to give them a different side of teaching that they weren’t accustomed to.  It was through those experiences that many of my students, even to this day, are able to open up and trust me more than their other teachers.  They are able to smile, be creative, and act silly without restraint.

If only the schools, parents, and ultimately Korean society are able to show better emotional support rather than a hint of ridicule, I can only imagine that there would be more Korean students having reasons to smile AND sleep. 

Copyright © Randy Kim

All rights reserved

For my winter camp classes, I made a video activity with my students.  They made the concept, script, and the acting, while I did the camera work and video editing.

1st year Students

My 3rd year students

November update

Nearly 3 years ago before I left for Korea, I, like, so many expats, thought it would be exciting to keep a blog and inform my friends back home on what life is like on the other side of the world, and in a place where I’m one day ahead of everyone else. However, my blog writing turned into something more than just being an informative piece for the blogging/social network public. It became a reminder of the pre-conceptions I had about the world then vs. now. My blogging has since lay dormant in the last several months, not for the lack of desire to write, but because, I reached a point where I’ve been able to accept, and even embrace a lot of uncertainties or nuances that comes with being a traveler. With many of the blogs I’ve read, a lot of the expat bloggers in some way or another are still coping with those cultural differences. Not to say that I don’t have those moments of expat anxiety, but rather it’s become my own accepted way of this lifestyle, and just quickly moving on from each situation and on to the next.

As the leaves are turning its colors, I find myself ready to change colors. The colors of my leaves that were once so fresh when I came to Korea are getting older and ready to fall off. As each week is ending, the whispering reminders of my coming departure becomes louder and louder. It is the voice that I can’t easily ignore, but a reminder that my future will take on, it’s safe to say, a completely different direction.

As I’m starting to prepare the last few lesson plans I have left of the semester, I can’t help but feel incredibly sentimental. I’m ready to say goodbye to yet another graduating class, but this time, to a class that I’ve been with since Day 1. My relationship with that class is one of love and hate; I’ve been a witness to both their growing pains and their pains in the asses moment. I recently found myself watching many of my old videos from my 1st year, and amazed at how fast they have grown up from the cute, innocent, fresh-out-of elementary school phase to having bad cases of acne, apathy towards society, girl-loving, ready-to-start high school attitude. Having collected a library full of videos from that year, I was able to kindly share them with my students, much to their horror and chagrin, as they are being reminded of how cute and innocent they once were. As I have seen them grow through the turbulent transition of puberty, I have found, for lack of a better phrase, growing both professionally and personally in Korea.

I was already 25 years old when I left Korea, but never had the opportunity to be a “true adult” back home. I was already finished with college the year before, but was struggling with the job search, having to live at home, and not being able to obtain the much-needed independence and personal self-respect I was seeking. It wasn’t until being in Korea allowed me that opportunity to finally make the transition into a late-blooming adult. I can truly say that working with kids has kept me grounded, and pushed me to focus on other opportunities that I had otherwise never considered which would lead me to my next topic.

This year, I’ve spent a considerable amount of time doing volunteer work outside of school. Gone are the days of weekend partying, domestic traveling, and college-like immaturity, and replaced with spending more time visiting orphanages, and women shelters in Busan, raising money and other donations for them, and enlisting new volunteers and organizations that we can lend a helping hand to. In a nutshell, it’s been an eye-opening experience for me as this has made me more aware of the unlucky situation that many of these people in the shelters, and orphanages are in, and how the current political climate has hampered a lot of the goals that these organizations want to achieve for those that are in need. I’ve been fortunate to have a small group of dedicated volunteers who are using their energy and time into doing the kind of work that often gets overlooked for many of the new expats here. With Christmas coming up, I’ve been currently trying to start up a Toy Drive and Christmas party dinner for two of the orphanages in Busan.

As I’m still trying to articulate my feelings about the near end of my contract with my school, I am still struggling to find a way to send the proper goodbye send off to all of my students and faculty. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to miss them tremendously, and all of the memories that I’ve accumulated from being around them. I asked several students from this year’s graduating class about where they think I’ll go next, and NO ONE mentioned me about leaving Korea, but instead, believe that I’ll stay in Korea whether it’s at the same school or somewhere else. It doesn’t make it any easier when I will finally tell them the news, but in all honesty, I will probably miss them much more than they would with me. As I’ve experienced from the last 2 graduating classes, I’ve seen several of my former students, a few I keep in touch with, but by that time, the emotional connection is already distant, and as the cliché goes, life keeps on going no matter how much you want to suspend it. It is that reality that I have made my peace with, knowing that the experience has been worthwhile, and that the stage has been set for newer moments.

Alas, I have a mere few months before I am gone, but the truth is, I’m starting to recognize, and perhaps not fully yet, of the impact that the Korean experience has done for me. Nearly 3 years, the only thing I’ve truly learned is how little I truly know, and how comforting that feeling is.

August update

As I’m sitting here wasting away hour after hour of office time at my school, I am less than 24 hours away from my flight to Sydney, Australia. The bucket list continues to get a bit smaller as I can cross Australia off the things-to-do list. Australia seems to be that trip on everyone’s bucket list. The allure of kangaroos, koala bears, the scenic view of the Sydney Opera House, the endless adventures that one can dream about. It seems to have it all. Also, it is the very fact that it is isolated from the rest of the world that makes it fairly exotic, and somewhat out of reach for many travelers.

Funny what a mere few years living abroad can do to a person. The places that I thought I’d never be able to visit have been coming into fruition. The weather has been brutally wet and humid in Korea this summer, so to be able to visit Australia during their current winter time (60 F average weather) is a welcome relief. I’ll be taking off from Seoul/Incheon Airport in the afternoon, arrive in Hong Kong for a brief hour layover, and head straight down to Sydney on an overnight flight which will have me arrive there at 7 am. 14 hours total will be the expected time I’ll be in the air. I’m dreading the lack of sleep, but I’m comforted with the fact that I’ll have some good movies and music to watch and listen to courtesy of Cathay Pacific Airways. Guess United Airlines or any American airliner haven’t gotten the memo yet? They’re showing Kung Fu Panda 2 already! (yes!!!). This will preserve my iPod from overuse during my long flight.

In the meantime, my summer camp has already concluded. It was a much better overall experience compared to last year when I struggled, and became increasingly worn out by the time August rolled around. I came up with some new ideas which included a week dedicated to doing video projects which my students had a great time doing. I was quite surprised at the ideas and concepts they came up with which allowed me to focus on the filming and video editing.

Being that this is my 3rd year, I feel like I’m starting to figure things out a little more quickly and confidently as a teacher at my school. Though with every student, there will always be a curveball when you think you’ve got everything covered, but I think that’s where a lot of people get into trouble is the fact that they feel there’s nothing to improve on once they reach their peak. It goes back to the saying that my friend Lisa eloquently said “A wise man knows how truly little he knows, while a fool boasts on what little he knows.”

Halfway into my contract, and with only the next semester ending on Christmas with a few weeks of winter camp, I’m very close to the finish line. I’ve been often reminded from some of my friends who left their schools on how hard it was to say goodbye to their students whom they’ve grown attached to. However, as they all lamented, life goes on. The emails from students and fellow colleagues become fewer and fewer. The kids are growing up and moving on to a different phase in their life, and my friends themselves are preoccupied with their new life back home. I have a feeling I won’t be able to let go right away when that time comes, and knowing that I’ve spent nearly 3 years with the same school, I reckon it’ll be an emotional rollercoaster. I know I have several months before that time comes, but I know that it’s something I’ll have to face eventually.

So far, it’s been a rather quiet journey this year with most of my time dedicated to school and my volunteer work with ATEK. To all Busaners, I encourage you to look into doing some volunteering if the nightlife doesn’t fancy you anymore. To become a member, check out our Facebook group “ATEK Busan Volunteer.” I can’t tell you how rewarding it feels when you’re doing something useful especially when you’re overseas.

Signing off,
Randy

Why I do what I do.....

Since coming back from America over 2 months ago, I looked long and hard at what goals I can accomplish coming into my 3rd year in Korea. The last two years have brought me inexplicable joy, as I have traveled, endured my ups and downs with teaching, tapped into the acting scene, and made many countless journeys with new friends and by myself. However, it wasn't enough for me. I felt my experience was still left unfulfilled until a couple of months ago when I was introduced to my friend Jessica through a mutual friend of ours. She had recently gotten involved with ATEK (Association for Teachers of English in Korea) which is a not-for-profit group which focuses on supporting both the expat community and the local Korean communities in need. ATEK, at that time, was hardly even heard of, but several months later, it's become one of the more prominent groups that many expats here in Busan have come to know.



When Busan Night Live was finished, I decided to get myself involved with ATEK. My goal after Korea would hopefully involve working in non-profit, and ATEK luckily provided the opportunities that I was looking for. Through ATEK, I have been involved with the Boys Orphanage in Nampo-Dong, helped raised money and toys for the Christmas Orphanage Drive, and currently involved in the city-wide collection drive for the Sae-Gil Women's Shelter.



The latter part of what I've been doing with ATEK reaches into the core of my heart. Korea, much like the rest of Asia, has a deep, disturbing issue of domestic abuse towards women and children. Despite the severity of these issues, Korea as a society has yet to confront these issues head on, and with its silence comes the deadly consequences that many abuse victims here have to face, not only from their perpetrator, but from the society that turns a blind eye and deaf ear to. I've written about this issue in one of my previous FB notes. After attending the Vagina Monologues show in Busan two months ago, I became further aware about the desperate situation that these shelters are in, the new laws that have restricted both funding for the shelter, and the victims who had to escape with little to their name. I knew right then and there, that I needed to help out, and seek other people who are also passionate about the cause, and ensure that the shelter(s) will continue to survive and be a place of proper refuge for these victims.



I became enraged and disturbed at the way many of these victims continue to get ignored by their society. Divorced women, and abuse victims (or both) are being discriminated against when trying to find a job because of the perception that they disobeyed their husbands, and often ignored by their own family and friends. Kids that have been abused and neglected at home have no outlet to turn to. Despite the growing globalization that's occurring here in Korea, it remains a society still fixated on Confuscianism, a concept that men with seniority and high status are the ones best at making the decisions while giving very little regard to those beneath them.



I have taught at the same boys middle school for the past 2 years, but in the past month, I slowly began to understand the reality that several of my students are in. As a teacher, and as someone who's unofficially a part of the community, it's easy to take for granted that we think of our students as "just" students, that we often think about making sure our lesson planning will go over well with the students, and to keep them as attentive and motivated as possible. However, it became more than that for me. I would oftentimes come across my students in my neighborhood (I live like 5 minutes away from my school), and they would often approach me and try to start a conversation. Every now and then, my students would join me whenever I am shooting hoops at the local high school, or try to beg me to buy them soda or ice cream (that never works). So, I knew right then and there, that I was more than just a simple foreigner teaching them English, but that I was living in THEIR community.



A student of mine was in my English winter camp during my 1st year. He was one of the quietest students I've ever had. He never spoke a word during my first year at our school, so I never had an opportunity to get to know him. During that first day of camp, he wouldn't do any of the activities, nor interact with his classmates, and there were times when he was late. I found it very puzzling, and soon, it became very frustrating as Ive tried coaxing him, being direct with him but his reactions were the same---very stoic with a silent nod. This would happen all throughout the 3 weeks of winter camp. I knew right then and there that something deep down was troubling him, but it seemed certain that he wasn't about to let himself trust me or anyone else. Several months later, he started to talk a little bit. He started hanging out with his classmates, and I often joke with him whenever he speaks with the gasping reply of "OH MY GOD...HE SPEAKS!!!!" Then, he had a meeting with his homeroom teacher, again another one of my other co-teachers, and finally revealed something that shed some light into his largely-muted psyche. His parents were recently divorced, but his father wouldn't allow him to see nor talk to his mother, and in the meantime, he would frequently abuse him and his sister without rhyme or reason. He's been begging his homeroom teacher to contact his mother, but to no luck from her end.



One day, I heard one of my students sobbing in the teacher's office. He was sitting just a few feet away from me. His homeroom teacher was quietly consoling him, and trying to investigate what had happened to him. I was watching discreetly, yet intently from my desk. I asked his homeroom teacher, who also another fellow co-teacher, about what had happened. She simply replied, "It's a really long story that I'll tell you for another time." During our school field trip a few days later, she confided in me that he has been living mostly alone in his house with his father making a visit or two each month. His mother simply disappeared from him years ago. One day, he tried entering his house but to no avail. He called the cops, and when his dad appeared at the doorstep, he shockingly told them that he had no idea who the boy was. Much to the boy's shock, he was taken to an orphanage overnight, and later sent back to his home. When it came time for art class, students were to draw their own future; however my student couldn't draw, not because of his artistic limitation, but because he felt that his future was too dark.



Another student of mine has gotten a case of identity crisis. He can oftentimes be the most respectful, loyal, hard-working kid you enjoy being around, and he can, at worse, be temperamental, unmotivated, and troublesome. I told my co-teacher "You know? This is what I think. I think he's got a great mother, but I think he's got issues with the men in his life." My co-teacher replied "You're absolutely correct." To me, it's not hard to notice. When you have a student who can often show charisma and sensitivity, (Sensitivity oftentimes strike the balance between humility and being temperamental), and having a side that is emotionally angry and bothered, then there is a conflict between both personalities. Having two parents who are on the polar opposite of one another seem to best illustrate the identity conflict. His mother, as he once confided in me, is his role model, his "angel", and his father and step-father are nothing close to that. His step-father is oftentimes abusive at home, and this might explain some of his recent behavior problems at school. Perhaps, it's my student's frustration at what's happening in his life. The person he loves so dearly is being abused, the society he lives in has no answers for it, his anger at his step-father for the abuse that he never asked for, and the non-parental role his birth father plays, could very well be linked to his anger and hurt.



It's stories like these that frustrate me over the lack of support for women and children in these situations. As a teacher, I have admittedly offered my support in a way where I'm able to provide some kind of help, but oftentimes, I feel incredibly helpless as I knowingly acknowledged that there are very few support systems for these kids and their mothers. It's too easy for me to try to play Batman or Robin Hood, and rescue them from their misery, but soon after, the reality does settle in, it becomes nearly impossible to be a superhero when you're only a mortal. Heck, I find it pretty darn difficult to play Robin, or any other superhero sidekick.



Despite these restraints and limitations, I am still determined to do what I can to be of some supportive outlet. But being a supportive outlet also means trying to find the thin gray line between my role as a teacher, and as someone who cares deeply about human rights. It also involves trying to reach an understanding with that person, and as stated, you can't be the hero, you can't try to make expectations that are above your reach. However, you can be the small little flashlight that can lightly beam through a dark, and empty cave. When you offer those in need a little bit of that light, then you give them some idea that there is hope. Small or large, it's still hope and it can survive. I still struggle with that role as a teacher sometimes because I truly do care about the well-being of my students, and I want them to live, and make their society a safe haven for themselves and for others.



Whenever I think about my involvement with the women's shelter,



I do it for the women in my life that have been abused (both verbally and physically)

I do it to give my middle finger to the government that dares to keep the subject quiet, while punishing the victims for embarrassing them.

I do it for some of my students who see home, not as a place of safe haven, but as a place of bruises and scars

I do it for those who struggle to find an outlet, or someone that will listen to them, instead of judging them for something that they did not do.

I do it for those who bravely dare to stand up, speak out, and take action against domestic violence in an Asian society that considers the topic taboo.

I do it for my friends and strangers who are passionate about working together to make this an important topic.

I do it because I want to live in a society that takes action against violence instead of keeping it under the rug.

I do it because I want to not have to hear the sound of shouting, crying, and abuse taking place outside of my home in the middle of the night, or when I'm walking into the city on said time.

I do it because I hope to never have to hurt someone who tries to attack an innocent victim.

I do it because I have too much love to give, and there are those that feel that they can't be loved.



I don't want this to sound like I'm specifically attacking Korea or Asia in general, but this is everywhere. It's taboo no matter where you go, but it doesn't have to be. It doesn't take a hero to change things for the better, it takes a team of sidekicks. That requires many pocket flashlights. I got mine still working. Does your work? :-)



Randy

Taiwan pt. 4 (4/4)

After a day full of sunshine and spring-like warmth, I came back to Taipei amidst a dreary, foggy, wet night which would then continue onto the next day. My intention for my last full day was to ride the cable car to the Maokong tea plantation which also overlooks the Taiwan city skyline as well as the surrounding mountains, temples, and tea gardens in Maokong.



Before I went ahead with my planned itinerary, I made a visit to the National Palace Museum. The museum, interestingly enough, is one of the top 5 museums in the world, and located in all places, Taiwan and not mainland China. Its top recognition comes from the many thousands of Chinese artifacts located throughout the mainland, including those from the Forbidden City that it contains. The question is why are they in Taiwan, and not in China? One of the bigger reasons is that during the Cultural Revolution, Mao's political opponent Chiang Kai-shek and his supporters fled to Taiwan, and with it, came along the boxes and boxes of priceless antiques which were left unopened for several years until the Taiwanese government turned it into a museum. Many have argued that without this move, the artifacts would have been either missing, destroyed, or sold off during the Cultural Revolution which was an attempt at erasing the past, and starting a new socialist society from scratch which would later happen in Cambodia during the 70s.



Upon arriving at the museum, there were several older Chinese tourists from the mainland with their cameras ready. The stereotypical behavior of Asian tourists sadly remains the same. Their incessant need to photograph everything in sight takes away the appreciation that one should have when visiting a place of historical meaning, and the understanding of what went on. The palace was huge and imposing. Entering inside, I was overwhelmed with the countless exhibition halls to visit. There were jade rooms, porcelain, Buddha culture, ancient calligraphy, pottery, artwork, and furniture. The museum gave a detailed insight on the meaning of these priceless works, and how each dynasty influenced Chinese art.



Afterwards, I made a 40 minute subway commute to the Maokong cable car, probably the smoothest subway commute I've had in all my years of commuting. Very little fanfare and fewer people. It was raining which would hinder my ability to get a good view of Taipei from Maokong. I took the 30 minute cable car ride which went through 3 stops. There was hardly a line, and it was remarkably inexpensive (NT 50 = $1.75) compared to Hong Kong's cable car ride which was significantly more with the nearly 2 hour wait. The ride itself was somewhat disappointing with the lack of water, trail views, and having to deal with a foggy skyline which almost completely blanketed Taipei 101.



I've been having to deal with sore blisters on my feet during a good part of my trip, and visiting a place that requires walking was a challenge indeed. Despite the rainy weather, I was fortunate to not have to deal with the obvious tourism exploitation that has occurred at this rural plantation since they put the cable car line in. Despite the commercial tourism appeal, Maokong has a very distinct personality that doesn't seem at all affected by the tourism ambush. There were many local teahouses, little tea farms sprinkled everywhere. It was a rather beautiful, scenic walk with the view of the city not too far yet I'm in the arms of nature as I can feel the droplets hitting my head and making my backpack rather moist. It was refreshing, and a world away from the manic nature of urban life. I visited the Jongshan Temple which also offered a direct view of the city from afar. Being in Taiwan and Hong Kong, I have never been as exposed to temples as often as I have until now. I visited a small tea museum which offered different collections of tea art. Coming downstairs, I was beckoned by one of the ladies working there, and she was fixing me some nice oolong tea. I took the mini-bus back to the starting point, and found some great street food which sold some nice dumplings, tofu soup, and noodles.



It was almost getting dark, and I headed back to the guesthouse. I was already fatigued at that point, and was focused on getting my stuff packed to go back to Busan. I was relaxing at the guesthouse for awhile and talked with Doris, and her father Stephen. Her aunt would consistently ask me each day if I was going to be there for breakfast the next day which made me feel as a guest, warmly appreciated. I said my goodbyes to the Belgium couple I had befriended during my visit.



After thinking about calling it a night, I thought about making one last venture outside. I thought about one of the street markets that's several blocks away. I decided to give it a try, and I arrived at the Ningxia Street Market which quickly became one of my favorites. The market was glowing with lanterns, shops, and food ready to sell. It was quite lively, and as I passed each stall, the crowds became more crowded. Each shop was offering a sample to all of their customers. There were many places where you can buy bags of gummy bears, lifesavers, sour candy, Jelly Belly's. Then there were places that sold herbal medicine, fruit mixes, shoes, various kinds of pastry. Around the block, a man or woman would have a megaphone to encourage customers to come in to their store, similar to how it's done in Korea. However, there wasn't any pressure from store vendors to buy their products which was in return a great relief from the previous street market experiences in Vietnam. I came back to the guesthouse feeling more satisfied than ever about my experience in Taiwan, but sad that it would soon have to reach its conclusion.



I readied myself the next morning, and Doris' aunt fixed me one last breakfast. I said my goodbyes to the two Korean people I met, and finally said my goodbyes to Doris' family for the wonderful hospitality they had provided me during my stay.



I took to the HSR along with the shuttle bus to Taoyuan which took about 40 minutes. I arrived at the airport, and as I got into my gate, I noticed how there are few places to eat inside, but how many nice souvenir shops were available. This normally spells trouble for me as I'm an avid collector of souvenir art (not the kind of tacky souvenirs that would say “I love....”). I bought myself a nice Chinese portrait scroll of a mountain and forest with the characters written above it. As I was walking around the terminal, I noticed that there was a prayer room (one for christianity, the other for buddhism, and the other for Islam).



I left Taiwan with an appetite for seconds. There were many places that I have yet to check out such as Kaohsiung, the famous gorge, and the uncharted east coast part of the country. I was awestruck by the generosity of the people, the accessibility around the main cities, and the charming personality that it has. I hope to make another future visit before I leave Korea for good.

Taiwan pt. 3 (3/4)

After having spent the previous evening deciding where I could do my next day trip, I chose the city of Tainan to be my destination of the day.



Tainan is the cultural capitol of Taiwan, much like how Kyoto is to Japan, Siem Reap is to Cambodia, and Gyeongju is to Korea. These cities have centuries of timeless history and culture behind it. They represent the strongest side of their cultural heritage as this sets them apart from the homogenization of Western influences that's been taking part throughout all of Asia.



The fastest way to get to Tainan from Taipei is taking the recently-built HSR (High-Speed Rail). It's currently one of the fastest railway networks in the world. From Taipei to Kaohsiung (approximately the length from Jacksonville to Miami, FL) is only 2 hours, and more importantly, it's a cheaper and less stressful alternative than taking a domestic flight. The station itself is super clean and quite an impressive experience with the layout, comfort, and accessibility. The main drawback would be the fact that it's a bit of a distance from the city centre, but fear not, there's a free shuttle bus (also very impressive and a bit luxurious) that can take you there.



The train ride itself was one of great comfort. The seats are comfortable, reclines well, and has quite a bit of leg room. The ride was smooth, and devoid of any railroad turbulence and delays. The train was squeaky clean, including the bathrooms. This was already a bigger upgrade from Korea's KTX railway network, and something that is sorely missing in the United States.



After arriving at the city centre in Tainan, I noticed how considerably warmer it was. Tainan is located in the southwestern part of the country, and about 15 minutes south of Kaohsiung on HSR. The weather was about 22 C or 72 F, and the skies were beaming with sunshine for the first time on my trip. Sadly, this would be the only day I would have any kind of sunshine and warmth, but it was a great welcome from the coldness of Korea, and the dreary overcast of my first two days in Taiwan. During the bus ride, I noticed that the first part of Tainan is very modern. There are many shopping centres and nicer apartments along the way. The first stop I made was the Confucius temple. This temple carries a significant part of Taiwan as this was the first Confucius temple built in Taiwan. Small, but artfully beautiful, I roamed around the area. Next to it, was an elementary school. I took the opportunity to take up snapshots, and as soon as I did that, I saw two beautiful female models dressed very elaborately and even a little provocatively so to speak. Their face was powdered white, their hair and jewelry, clothing, and their stunning beauty caught my attention. Of course, I had to take a photo op with them. They kindly obliged, and they spent time modeling their shoots by the fountain.



I walked around the beautiful city district, and came across several local stores. The chairs and desks were out, the smell of noodles filled the air, the sidewalks filled with local craft and tool shops. I got myself some roasted duck for lunch. I walked over to the Koxinga shrine which was named after him. His real name was Zheng Chenggong who was a famous commander during the Ming dynasty who drove off the Dutch settlers. His place in Taiwan's history is undisputed, and many of the places in Tainan are named after him.



I continued walking along and found the beautiful Chikhan Building which had several written tablets in front of the building. The place was filled with many Chinese tourists from the mainland. Across the street is another temple. Interestingly enough, outside the building were posters spread in full view in protest of the human right issues concerning China. Note that in mainland China, many residents there are shielded away of what's been going on due to the heavy censorship from the government. Taiwan and Hong Kong, thankfully, are not censored as the rest of China is, so this allows information to reach into the tourists. Whether this can ever be effective remains to be seen. This would happen at some of the main tourist spots.



Walking around the city was quite a pleasant experience. I wasn't constantly suffocated by the exhaust pipes of Taipei, or the claustrophobic nature of “mini Busan” in Keelung. The combination of old vs. new makes Tainan a city still firmly holding onto its tradition, while embracing itself as a city ready to evolve.



I headed over to Anping which is right by the shore, and a short distance from Tainan. I took a short cab ride over there, and found myself walking along the harbor. It was strangely empty and very quiet, but as I was walking on the bridge to the other side, I noticed how laid-back, and charming that district is. I walked around and found some wonderful local shops. They were selling the sword-lion souvenirs which was originally famous for the Taiwanese people who used it as a defense mechanism. The craft shops made me drool endlessly with its beautiful lanterns, buddha statues, local crafts and artwork on display. I had some amazing fried shrimp wantons along the way. I walked along the shores, and found myself never as impressed with my whole day-trip experience.



I headed back to the city centre, and tried to find the bus station that's supposed to take me to the HSR. Unfortunately, I was struggling to find it; however, I noticed a police car parked outside in one of the government buildings. I came over and asked the officer for some assistance, and he gave me a ride to the station. Just another example of being in another foreign country where you can barely speak the local language, but somehow if you have enough patience, understanding, and self-confidence, you'd be surprised how well you can try to communicate and even more surprised at how generous many of the locals are in return.



As I made my way back to Taipei, I left with what I felt was one of my favorite spots to visit in Taiwan

Taiwan pt. 2 (2/4)

After venturing through a good part of Taipei the day before, I decided to do a day trip to Keelung, an hour northeast of Taipei (40-50 minutes by regular train). Keelung is a decent-sized urban port city in the Northeast part of Taiwan that's best known for its fishing and street market, along with its historical significance.



The first glimpse of Keelung as I stepped off the train was how similar it looked compared to Busan, specifically in the Nampo-dong/Jagalchi district, and the urban port of Southern Vietnam. The commonality that these places share are the focus on seafood, vendor stores, cheap clothing, food, local crafts, and accessories, and the condensed, yet laid-back personality that it has. Unlike Busan, Keelung is roughly developed with the exception of the main shopping/street market area, but similar to Vietnam, there were many small villages sprawled out near the harbor. The weather, once again, was dreary with additional overcast throughout the day. It had rained earlier in Keelung, and the streets were wet with muddy soot. The pungent aroma from the harbour permeated the city air which is already mixed in with the unforgiving fumes emanating from the darn motorbikes. Bicycles seem to be a dead form of transportation these days in Asia. I explored the night market streets which took up several blocks. There were many food stalls, and quite a few unsightly ones as whole raw chicken including the head, and feet are on display, fresh seafood lying on the tables, as the water drips from the dead fish and into the sidewalk. There was a beautiful temple in the middle of the market. Several people pay their respect, and the smell of incense can make its presence felt for blocks. In fact, there are generally several temples and shrines every few blocks. It's worth noting that Taiwan has never lost touch with its Confucian/Buddhism heritage, and strongly adheres to its ancient traditon, even more so than Japan and Korea despite the Western modernization that has taken place in all of East Asia.



The choice of food stalls underwhelmed me, and I had difficulty deciding what food I wanted to eat. The biggest challenge facing me was the lack of English signs and photos so it became a hindrance when it came to ordering food. However, I found a great stall that were selling crispy fried dumplings. It was simply delightful. I had myself some nice bubble tea along the way.



I took a walk around the city, and walked up to the top of the hill which allowed me to view Keelung. While I was on top, I visited the Big Buddha park (fairly unremarkable and almost void of Buddhism authenticity due to its sheer tourist commercial appeal). There was also a ghost museum dedicated to keeping the tradition of the ghost festival held every Fall. The purpose of the festival is to offer the dead ancestors to come back into the living world, and not suffer in the afterlife.



As I walked into the tourist office looking to get additional information, the clouds became ominously dark. It looked ripe for a nice thunderstorm, and a nice dent into the rest of my stay in Keelung. I decided to risk it and hop on the bus to see more of the harbour. During the bus ride, I got a closer look at the working-class villages near the bay. The bus signs were in Chinese of course, so I had to keep a close eye on where I was going. The ride was a bit raggedy. I visited the Fairy Buddha Cave which was uniquely impressive because of the carvings, the quiet yet scenic location it was in, and its authenticity.



As raw and honest of a traditional, urban city as Keelung is, I came away feeling underwhelmed by it. Certainly the weather didn't help matters, and I didn't have enough time to visit some of the more popular, out-of-reach areas closer to Keelung. Overall, Keelung certainly is in a much different world than Taipei with its adherence to tradition and focus on the seafood industry.