I'll Hit You In The Temple, Where It Hurts

As part of our "End of Year" celebration, or as the Koreans call it, "푸피 팬티" (that's a 2nd grade level joke for the Hangul reading or industrious demographic), we departed our humble elementary school in a charter bus bound for God knows where. I was told that we would be attending a "teacher training" course. For those fellow teachers who have any experience with this will immediately recognize how utterly horrifying this sounds. An hour sitting in a room with Koreans speaking in rapid Korean about teaching probably equates to getting your nipples burnt off by Satan's forked tongue.

Instead, we spent a little over an hour on the bus enjoying a Korean movie called "Panga Panga." I learned that "panga panga" is a "cute" "way" of "saying" "Nice to meet you" in "Korean" (pangap sumnida [반갑습니다]). Basically, from what I gathered, the film is a statement on a very familiar theme to us Americans: discrimination. Yes, they got it over here too. You know who it's against? The foreigners. No, not us white foreigners. They see us as happy leprechauns who will give them pots of gold if they call us "handsome" or "gorgeous" enough times. The foreigners they don't like are the Pilipinas, the Thai, the Vietnamese. Sound familiar? *cough*Mexicans*cough* In the end, however, everyone wins and gets to stay in Korea legally and the protagonist (I don't remember which SE Asian country he's from) gets the Filipino girl (he'd never dare fall in love with a pure Korean woman). The proudest moment? That I just told you the synopsis of a film I watched entirely in Korean.

There are obvious reasons I could understand that much: cliche plot, body language, the actors enunciated, most of the protagonist's lines were just trying to convince everyone he was a Korean (한국사람이야! 한국사람이야!). Boy, his heart was in it though. He really wanted to be a Korean.

When it was right at the "foreigner singing competition" climactic moment, we reached our first destination: Unmun Temple.

Unmun Temple is in a beautiful location in a valley surrounded by picturesque mountains. The thing with temples that I've been to is that the surrounding landscape really makes or breaks it. In Gyeongju, Bulguk Temple is a jewel of Korea. I was not as impressed with it as other temples simply because there was no surrounding scenery other than trees. To me, Unmun is a top five. It is serene, remote, and it has a couple of things that make it unique.

You will remember (won't you?) when I went to Haein Temple several months ago and snapped illegal pictures of the Tripitaka Koreana. Well, Unmun has nothing of that magnitude in its clutches. It does, however, possess a pine tree that is fueled and fertilized with booze. Yeah, that's right. Booze. And it's pretty friggin majestic.

Yeah, that's only one weird looking tree right there. Also, this is the historic site wherein I ceremonially committed treason against Jesus. Not only am I celebrating his birthday in a heathen country, I prayed to their heathen god very near to that special date. Here's proof of my heresy:

Buddha just looked so kind and inviting, sitting up there covered in gold and smiling. It's a lot happier looking than a bloody Christ nailed to a cross. I learned how to properly pray to Buddha, but I didn't do it the proper amount of times. You're supposed to hit that guy up a hundred and eight times when you pray. That's a thigh work out times seven.

The final thing that makes Unmun unique is that it is the largest nunnery in Korea. In Buddhism, they're more like female monks though. They got the shaved head and everything. They live back here somewheres like little bald ghosts:

Hey, here's my co-teachers:

Adorable little guys, aren't they? I love 'em to death.

After a short walk through the forest and pine cone scented nature, we boarded the bus again and stopped for dinner. My leaders chose a small place that specialized in rather tasty and succulent beef. I think before we have any work function, all the Koreans gather in an alleyway (or right in front of me. It's not like it would make a difference) and they snicker about getting the foreign kid as drunk as possible.

It always starts about halfway through the meal. Someone quietly suggests to me that it would be a kind gesture to drink a shot with the principal. I agree that it would and awkwardly saunter over there. We trade shots and then the vice principal pipes up that I should drink a shot with him, too. I oblige. When that's done, the head teacher thinks I should take a shot with him. After that, the judo coach thinks it would show a lot of respect if I drank a shot with him. Then, the "group" leader teacher for the night laughs his unique chuckle and just holds out his glass to be filled and does the same for me before I can protest. In a matter of two minutes, I am 300% more drunk than before and they all laugh and ask me to speak in Korean. Basically, I am their entertainment for a few minutes. When they grow bored they make their bow and say thank you as a kind way of saying "leave now, we're done with you." I am glad to go.

In other news, aren't you proud (or at least annoyed) that I am updating so much now? It's only because classes are over and this lonely Christmas season is coaxing me to express myself. Ah, I am so cool...