Thank you...

My packet, my Rememberance Day Poppy.// My wine, my letters n gifts .
At 6:00 p.m. I walked into the classroom to teach the last 3-hour session with my advanced class. It's my smallest class, only 12 students, and all of them I've taught for at least 2 semesters. Although it's a Friday evening class, students are very enthusiastic and we always have wonderful classes. As I approached my desk I noticed a package sitting on it. Immediately I knew that it was a package I've been waiting for a long time to arrive from Canada. A student in my class, Hye-yoon, who also works in the English Dept. office, brought it for me. Can you imagine the torture of waiting until the end of class to get home and open it. I had asked for a few thingsf of my sister in law to pack and send me but the package was much bigger than I thought it'd be. It could mean only one thing: they packed more than what I asked for .
I finally came home at around 9:00. I put on some Goran Bregovic music on, opened a bottle of my more expensive wine (only consumed when I feel extra happy or unhappy) and set out to open the package. First I took a photo of me with an unopened package. Pathetic perhaps, but the truth is that I haven't gotten many packages in my life - this was kind of historic. A few minutes later the goodies spilled out of the box: my beautiful nightgown with tiny blue flowers embroidered around the hem and arm openings, purchased in Canada last summer and left behind hidden under a pile of clothes in kids' room; Crest Whitening Sensastions toothpaste (in cinnamon, vanilla mint and spearmint flavours- my faves) and a bonus (god bless my family who takes tooth care very seriously) of 2 tubes of "vivid white", the newest whitening product from Crest; two Revlon new complexion one step compact make up; three Secret anti-perspirants; a hot water bottle (for some strange reason unavailable in Korea); a wonderful CD with a medly of famous arias. The best were three hand-written letters from my sister-in-law, my niece and my nephew. My niece sent me a pair of glitzy earrings (that I just might decide to use for my Scottish ball) "as a reward for all my hard work." She might mean last summer with them, hehehe. Yeah, it's an early Christmas for me.
Being so elated over the package I've decided to start sending Christmas gifts home. In our family sending gifts overseas was frowned upon as excessive and showy - but now I can certainly see the value in it, and I'll do it. If my dearest could be as happy as I was for a fraction of a second, then it's worth it. I'll start looking for something nice right now.
Hvala vam, dobri ljudi.

11/11:Rememberance and Peppero Day

The Rememberance and Peppero Day

It's only 10:00 a.m., am in my office and taught only one class at the middle school - and my big desk is covered in Peppero Sticks. My cute monster girls gave me dozens of these breadsticks dipped in chocolate, straweberry or vanilla coating. The shiny pink, red, golden, yellow wrappings are covered in cutsie cartoon bears, rabbits, chicks, and some of the messages read: lovely, sweet love, sweetie, so sweet, happy day,sweet 100%, , sweet cookie house, good taste, and a whole message on one of them (this should be a deluxe peppero stick in shiny pink wrapping with even shinier hearts of all sized on it: "you are my friend, you provide me with love."
What the heck is a Peppero Day? A day to show those you love that you love them? A day to overindulge in carbs of the worst kind? A day to dread of not getting any from your students which would be the ultimate proof of how unpopular you are? All of these, perhaps, but mostly it is a tribute to someone's marketing genius. You can use 4 breadsticks stood upright to "write "November 11th, 11.11. . How extraordinary and a reason enough to have a brand new holiday. On this day in Korea, you see kids and adults walking around carrying pepperos in all lengths, widths, colours and wrappings. Bakeries and other stores display them at the most visible spot. It has something of the Valentine's Day quality back home.
Let's not forget that it's also the Rememberance Day (pun really not intended!) back home in Canada. We honour Canadians who served in WW I and II, in the Korean war and those involved in subsequent world conflicts. More than 1,500,000 Canadians served and more than 100,000 died. On this day Canadians (as well as war veterans in many other English speaking countries) wear poppy flowers attached to their lapels. I got two of them from the Brittish Embassy last Thursday.

Why poppies? In his famous poem "In Flanders Fields", dedicated to the dead soldiers of the WW I, John McCree used the poppy for its colour (red as blood) and for its ancient association with the eternal sleep and rest. Thanatos and Hypnos, the ancient twin gods of death (Thanatos) and slumber (Hypnos or Somnus) were frequently depicted carrying poppies or resting among poppies. Somnus would ocassionally grant Demeter/Ceres, - the goddess of Earth who lost her daugther Persephone to the lecherous god of the underworld Hades, - some rest from her anguish with the help of poppies' opiatic properties. The original myth of Persephone have Hades giving her a poppy from the Underworld to sniff so that she became forever bound to him and his world (later, the poppy in the myth was replaced by a pommegranite (?!) - ah, those ancients, can't they get their facts straight?).
My own family has been scarred by many wars. My great-grandfather fought in the WWI, got sick on the front and died shortly after coming back home, a broken man. His wife followed soon after which left my grandma an orphan at the age of 5 or 7, in the care or rather heartless aunt and uncle. My mom's brother who fought in WW II disappeared on the Russian front (fighting on th side of Austro-Hungarian Empire, as Croatia was part of it). We never found out what happened to hom, where and how he died and where and if he was burried. His brother was wounded and left in fragile condition for the rest of his life. My paternal grandfather Stipe was killed in the war in 1942 lleaving behind three orphaned children, two unmarried teenage sisters and a pair of sickly and elderly parents. My dad was only 3 years old at the time. The last war in former Yugoslavia was another devastating experience: my family in a refuge camp, brothers on the front, one of them imprisoned for about 9 months, my cousin killed, property lost, family dispersed.... I can't and won't forget. It's ironic that such a solemn memorial in the West would be such a frivolous little holiday in Korea.

And here, for your reading pleasure and lest you forget, the beatiful and sad "In Flanders Fields" poem:"

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard 'mid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved and were loved,
and now we lie in Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep
Though poppies grow
In Flanders fields

November 2004

Clare, Jiwon, Andrea and I went for a walk up to Namsan on a coolish November Day. This is us checking out the outdoors exercise equipment installed in many parks in Seoul. Ah, at the time I could lift my leg really high and my favourite jeans were still on me not in the garbage dump (they went to shreds this summer and I had to toss them).

Saint Jiwon: "I like to knit,cook and go to church..."

I told you, Button Bobo, I'll take my revenge... Here's you (over)exposed.
Gentle reader, aren't you just melting at the sight of this girlish innocence, each and every mother-in-law's dream....so meek and mild - and knitting on top of it (before, during and after the basketball game we went to see way back on a cold winter day; to her credit, the scarf was for a friend far away in N.Y.C)

And Jiwon Execrated

Quitting the saint act; yep, definitely a more likely occupation for Jiwon's hands, wine, stogie (chez mois) and a nasty cocktail at Helios (avec mois)

Blonde, blue-eyed and baffled

The way they see me (blonde and blue-eyed)
The way I am (none of it), except for golden highlights in my "central European" nondescript not-blonde yet not quite brown hair . BTW, I learned to assume this "cute" pose from my hawkwan girls in Bucheon.

Am I blonde enough? Are my eyes blue enough and big enough? According to my little middle school girls, you bet (the proof is in the photo).

Today with my middle school girls I had an eye-opening experience that proved how the power of personal perception oftentimes wins over what we actually see in reality.

I was teaching "there is/there are" construction and its accompanying interrogative and negative forms. To practice, I was asking questions like: "Is there a teacher/dinosaur/elephant/or "are there boys/men/ frogs" in this classroom. Girls dutifuly responded: "Yes, there is/there isn't" and the like. Then I asked: "Are there any blonde people in this classroom?", thinking they would answer positively - me, the teacher. However, they said 'no there aren't." When I asked what colour was my hair, they responded with either " yellow" or "gold." When I asked who's blonde among famous Western people, they said Brittney Spears and Cameron Diaz. I realized then that in their vocabulary blonde must mean platinum and a bit on the sexy wild-haired side. Then I asked, "Are there any blue-eyed people in this classroom?" To my astonishment they all said "Bianca" (my eyes are of the dark brown almost black kind, see the unenhanced photo) . When I laughed and said: :"no, no, I have dark eyes like you," many screamed "no, no, no, Bianca Canadian, blue eyes!" I walked around showing the girls my dark eyes as a proof. One of the girls said: "Teacher, you black contact lenses?" When I answered negatively, they asked "how teacher has black eyes." I realized that they must think all Westerners, or more precisely English speakers, have blue eyes. Such is the power of stereotyping and marketing blue-eyed and blonde people as the epitome of "Westerness." My girls whom I taught for almost a year now haven't noticed that my eyes are not blue, and even when I claimed to have dark eyes just like they, some of them thought I'd put in dark contact lenses. Then some asked: 'but teacher Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, they have blue eyes." I agreed,then asked how about Julia Roberts, Jim Carry, Catherine Zeta Jones, Austin Powers [they didn't know who Mike Meyers is], Brittney Spears . At the mention of B. Spears all hell broke loose: "Brittney has blue eyes," they all claimed, and no matter how hard I tried to persuade them that her eyes were as blue as chocolate, they couldn't accept it. Finally, I went on the Internet and showed them a couple of pictures where it is very clear that she's as brown-eyed as any of them. My little girls were flabbergasted! Their whole idea of what a Westerner should look like was shattered. Most of them didn't know that Caucasian eyes come in all sorts of colours and shapes, even the eyes of English speakers.

Inevitably, talking about looks we came to the topic of double lids. They said they envied my big eyes, which came as another ( I must say pleasant) surprise as my eyes are not big at all, on the contrary. When I claimed to have small eyes, they all vehemently disagreed. Then, one student said:"Bianca Teacher beautiful nose." What! She can't mean this balbous Roman pride of nasality that I've objected to all of my life. But, she did, and others agreed.

It was a very interesting experience, indeed. Not only mine, but also the girls' eyes were open. Many of them realized for the first time that "Western" - read American - is not necessarily all about blonde and blue eyed people, as much as this is the preferred look among advertisers who elevate the WASP-y look above all others. This whole affair has prompted me to think more about the ways in which I possibly stereotype and put "Far-East Asians" in the same box. I'm still thinking, and when I come to some kind of conclusion, I'll certainly blog about it.

Family and Friends update

Well, I know that this blog is all about me... I also know that I am not an isolated island in the stream, but a part of an archipelago. I decided to include here those I love and miss, those who were close to me at one time, but life took us in different direction.
Josip, my younger brother, sent me some pix more than a month ago. Jozo, posalji jos koju da te stavim u sajber prostore... hehehe.... Josip's making a good use of his swanky slim Sony and every once in a while sends me a couple of pix of him, Bilja and the kids. The composition tells me that he used the self-timer, je l' tako Josipe?

Sibling rivalry? No, none of it displayed in this picture. Stipe is lovingly hugging his little sister.

Spremni za spavanje? Ready to hit the sack? Stipe and Katarina in their little pajamas and funky slippers.  

Jana, the little Princess in the shiny satin dress, my friend Dragana's daughter, trick-or-treating in Canada. Jana's a spitting image of her mom, huge blue eyes and chestnut hair to die for. I am not quite sure, but I think Dragana is the clown?! Not easy to recognize. These last couple of weeks have been very good in terms of hearing from friends with whom I'm not corresponding regularly. I heard from Senta, who got married, Dragana, Sanja, Katarina (another OISE friend) who, after some turbulent globe-trotting years, came back to Ontario to teach German in a small town, in one of the few school that still offer German in their curriculum. How lucky for her.  

In Canada, if you have a big wedding, you simply must rent a big mean limo to drive you to the church. Here's Senta entering the limo, observed by her parents. Her dress is absolutey dream-like, something Carrie Bradshaw might have worn to her wedding, if she had ever made it to the altar. One of my fondest memories of Senta is her coming out of her father's huge dark red pick-up truck in the trendy uptownToronto neighbourhood where she and I and a couple of friends met for dinner and drinks a couple of months after graduation. That was a sight to see: a huge truck, built for a burly construction worker or firefighter and this slim, elegant woman manouvering and parking it like a pro, then coming out in high heels and hair stylishly cut. I think all guys observing this unlikely driver just about dropped thier jaws to the floor.

Senta's Wedding. I met this beautiful bride in 2001 when I started teachers college at the University of Toronto. She was another fellow Cronadian, and no doubt one of the most fashionable, beautiful, graceful, classy young women I've ever met. Everyone in our 'international langauges' class loved Senta: her easy manner, soft voice, warm smile, kindness... At the time she was dating a Canadian-Italian guy, and now 4 years later, after having bought a nice house, they decided to tie the knot. She sent me a couple of picturers. What a beautiful bride she made. Here she is with her Mom, Dad, and sisters.

Vianna, Anna and Ivanna - an' no kiddin'

Anna's daughters, Ivanna and Vianna. Anna Faraone was my teacher and friend at U of Toronto OISE (teachers college). If it hadn't been for her support and understanding after my mom's death, I wouldn't have been able to finish my internship and graduate when I did. Anna is a fireball of a woman, a happy marriage of brains and good looks. She had it all: a great career, great home in a quite, tree-lined neighbourhood, a good-looking tall understanding husband - well, all except for one thing that she wanted the most and couldn't have : to be a Mom. At the time of my studies at OISE she was 43 with numerous miscarriages behind her. She got pregnant again and decided to do all in her power to bring the pregnancu to term this time. It wasn't easy, there was so much at stake, but she was brave and she got through it. Now, 4 years later, she has these two beautiful little munchkins to photograph and boast about. On the left is her younger daughter Vianna and on the right her older Ivanna (their last name is Viaskus - don't blame Anna, she's trilingual and likes playing with sounds.). At Halloween she dressed her younger daughter in her older daughter's old costume, but, in her capable and 'all is possilbe fashion' she managed to find a matching one - and what's more a mirror-image one- for Ivanna. Anna, you rock!

The divine duet in red and black

Twins? Same color scheme, similar flowing hair, red shawls, red handbags, same hand over wrist body lanugage... Nope, theey ain't twins: the blonde, Debbie, is from the Far North (22 hours north of Canada - read Thunder Bay), and the other, the brunette Clare, is from the Far South, Cape Town, SA. The pic taken at the Diwali Gala. We are close 'cause we have many things in common: love of good times, good food, wine, chocolate, books... funny dances where sometimes legs get broken (Scottish, e.g.)

Debbie and the misty vista on Soyo. From down under we could hear shots being fired at the American Base - Camp Casey - firing range.  

Debbie took this picture and named it: "crouching tiger, hidden Princess" - how kind of her.  

A walk in the woods in the midst of Seoul

The trees in the SamcheonGak garden wear this little rice-stalk skirts, for what purpose, I can't figure out. Fashion?
Seongbuk-dong neighbourhood, the paradise of the privileged.
What do you do after a night of indulgence? You wake up late with a bit of a headache and feeling stifff, you drink 3 cups of coffee and have a very healthy breakfast in a desperate attempt to offset the sins of the previous night. You plan to do something productive, to catch up on work... but then, inevitably, you send messages to your friends asking them what they want to do.
Today, Clare, Deb and I decided that we wanted to walk to SamcheonGak, at the foot of Bugaksan. This beautiful old0-Korean style house used to be a secret gathering place for Korean politicians in the 1970's. The rumour has it that not only politics were discussed here but that this was a place for wild parties of Korean authoritarians, complete with booze and women.
Be that as it may, the place has been rennovated and is open to public under new management - it used to belong to the City of Seoul. Now it has, or will have in the near future, a restaurant, a performance hall, a bar, a teashop... It aims to be a place of beauty and culture. There are shuttle buses that take you from SamcheonGak to downtown Seoul, free of charge.

The three of us, in various degrees of hangovers and post-party blues, met at the Hansung university station. We walked through the posh neighbourhood of Seongbuk-dong, the place where Seoul's old money and foreign elite live. Their homes are well-hidden behind high walls and well protected by cameras, fiercely barking dogs (if not by policemen who we spotted sleeping soundly in their cars with gaping mouths and gaping windows).
The trees were amazing: scarlet maples and golden ginkos, all kinds of shrubbery with purple or red berries, concrete half-walls and road barriers covered in plush bright green moss...

After our pleasant walk we went to a nice Korean restaurant (Seongbuk-dong Mameil Sujebi http://joongangdaily.joins.com/200504/07/200504072002299609900091009101.html) that specializes in buckwheat dishes. We shared three wonderful dishes -buckwhat bibimbap, noodles and sujebi soup. After that, Clare went home; Deb and I went shopping in the Hannam market. I had left my wallet at home so girls just kept paying for me and lending me money.
My plan to work hard in the afternoon came to nothing, but, hey, I'm on top of my blogging duties. Thank god for that comforting thought of the option to wake up at the crack of dawn and working fast with a fresh brain and a fresh pot of coffee. Tomorrow is another day - what a muffler of guilty thoughts.

Spotted on a sidewalk in Seongbuk-dong, a message in gold and green: some are dying; others are thriving.

A beautiful house that's a home to a diplomat or another 'deserving' person - a whole different world  

And peeking into it...Deb 

To what extent would you go for a good photo. Clare and Deb (followed by me) hopped on this rusty fence to get a good photo a shiny blue roof and a persimmon tree 

Koreanna 

Blue roofs and orange persimmons: it can't get more Korean than this.  

Girls and ginkos: Clare and Deb walking towards Samcheon-gak  

Ponytailed photographers trying to get the best shot: Clare and Deb.  

Diwali Festival of lights

Could these two (decorations on the wall of the Convention centre) be Lord Rama and his wife Sita?

November 5th, Grand Hilton Seoul, The Convention Hall.
At this fab event we were rubbing shoulders with Seoul's rich and privileged as they celebrated the biggest Indian festival Diwali.
What is Diwali? It's a Hindu holiday celebrated in the Hindu month of Ashwin (our November/October). The holiday commemorated different events across different regions of India, but it has to do with King Rama's coronation after he defeated Ravana, the demon king. Rows of lamps were lit across India to welcome Rama and his wife Sita after theri 14 year exile. Dipawali or Diwali means 'rows of lamps.' It is considered auspicious to exchange gifts made from metal, silver or gold, of course. Diwali is celebrated for four days. People have parties, exchange gifts, wear new clothes, and are generally involved in frenzied shopping for gifts and eating (sounds like Christmas:parties, lights, food, gifts - people are same across the globe!).
Debbie organized this event for us. When we arrived to the hotel, we were bedazzled by shiny silky saris worn by many Indian as well as Western women there. The food was excelent, but I ate too much making myself ill in the process. The dances were interesting and lively, the decorated hall very festive. .. It was an overall interesting experience and certainly a chance to see amazingly beautiful saris and jewelry.