I've been at my kindergarten for a long while now and at times I have been put into decision making positions. With that came the responsibility to hire people.
This experience was fascinating.
Applicants were aloof. Resume's were hilarious. And people simply blew it. But the other day I chuckled when I thought about one interview in particular.
Let's call him the British Taekwondo Master. He had long, pony tailed, blonde hair. A very nicely cut, grey three-piece suit and Benjamin Franklin style bi-focals. His face looked kind and his 6-foot frame stood lean and athletic.
He came to Seoul to pursue his dream of winning international Taekwondo competitions and in the interview intricately weaved me through how the Taekwondo masters in London established him as the next best thing. At which I replied with no words but a short glance at the colorful bookshelves with children's books, thinking, "Did you know you are interviewing to teach 4-year-old's how to say 'hello'?"
The interview felt like a vortex of odd. He talked. We didn't. He kept moving his hands in wavy yet circular motions as he spoke. My hands stopped taking notes. His eyes were serious. Mine were understanding, yet very confused. Simply, odd.
The interview ended when he said, "To be honest, and please understand me Mark, I feel like the Taekwondo spirit brought me to Korea, and even to the this office, to speak to you, Mark."
Hmmmm.
As he left, he bowed very sincerely. Then put on a not-so-subtle pair of pointy suede shoes because in Korea you leave shoes at the door and wear slippers inside.
The vice principal, looking perplexed, then quickly asked, "Why does he wear the shoes of a wizard?"
To which I replied, "Good question..."
...get Lost my friends.
Showing posts with label Expat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Expat. Show all posts
1.28.2012
1.10.2011
Snow Life
This is my first lengthy experience with winter. Actual winter. I'm from a part of Southern California where the winter equates to people driving 25 mph slower when it drizzles and the temperature never, I mean never, get below 40 degrees.
For those of you that were unaware, Korea has an actual winter. We are talking 6 degree temps, snow, layering, your face getting as white as the section of your body below your waste but just above your mid-thigh, snow, a numb face, snow, staying indoors even when the sun is out and even more, snow. All of these things remain pretty foreign to me.
Yet, in this new experience, there are a few things that stick out the most.
1.) I have never been afraid of anything that does not move, until now. Black ice; you are an ominous little creation.
2.) I need to allow an extra 3 minutes for getting ready in the morning because I now wear a big coat, beanie, scarf, gloves and sometimes dual socks. If I don't I am wildly cold on my way to work. The only problem with this is my work commute is literally a 2-minute bike ride and my co-workers look at me weird because I am bundled-up like I just got off the set of "Fargo".
3.) Snow falling between buildings and nestling onto city streets still stands as one of the most beautiful sights I know.
4.) Don't go to tropical climates (Thailand) for your winter vacation when snow and ice await your return. Total bummer. I completely blew it on that one.
...
It's actually not that bad, which is reassuring. I feel like living in any major city in the U.S. is doable now because I know I can handle some intense winter weather.
Then again, I have a feeling that the black ice has yet to strike it's devilish ways upon me.
...Get Lost my friends.
For those of you that were unaware, Korea has an actual winter. We are talking 6 degree temps, snow, layering, your face getting as white as the section of your body below your waste but just above your mid-thigh, snow, a numb face, snow, staying indoors even when the sun is out and even more, snow. All of these things remain pretty foreign to me.
Yet, in this new experience, there are a few things that stick out the most.
1.) I have never been afraid of anything that does not move, until now. Black ice; you are an ominous little creation.
2.) I need to allow an extra 3 minutes for getting ready in the morning because I now wear a big coat, beanie, scarf, gloves and sometimes dual socks. If I don't I am wildly cold on my way to work. The only problem with this is my work commute is literally a 2-minute bike ride and my co-workers look at me weird because I am bundled-up like I just got off the set of "Fargo".
3.) Snow falling between buildings and nestling onto city streets still stands as one of the most beautiful sights I know.
4.) Don't go to tropical climates (Thailand) for your winter vacation when snow and ice await your return. Total bummer. I completely blew it on that one.
...
It's actually not that bad, which is reassuring. I feel like living in any major city in the U.S. is doable now because I know I can handle some intense winter weather.
Then again, I have a feeling that the black ice has yet to strike it's devilish ways upon me.
...Get Lost my friends.
11.22.2010
Korea: The Sandlot of Dreams
I did it. I suited up, put on some spikes, tipped my Dodgers hat and took the field. On Sunday, I played in my first baseball game in Korea.
It was a practice game of sorts that was not actually on a field but rather a big dirt space usually used for soccer. It kinda had a mound. It kinda had a backstop. It kinda had foul lines. It was kind of a baseball diamond.
I played with a group of guys between the ages of 27 and 42 against a team with the same demographics. They were all Koreans, they all smoked in between innings and they all loved playing baseball. The warm-up drills were formally done with batting practice and ground balls to go with it. Everyone had matching uniforms and expensive gear. Pep talks were given with vigor and we even lined up before the game and bowed to the opposing team.
I felt exhilarated. I came from playing in an old-man-softball-league where everyone crushed Keystones, cussed at each other and the idea of a bat-in-hand brawl breaking out always loomed.
Here, respect for the other team and the game comes first.
Our team, Khazon, scored 7 runs in the first inning while I walked and scored on a double. I then played first base. The idea being that I grew up playing baseball so I could at least catch a ball. I liked it. The pitcher tried a few pick off plays and the other team tried speaking English every time they reached first.
It was a perfect way to spend my Sunday. But, after about the fifth inning, and after I had hit an RBI-double and popped out, (4-hours and 15-minutes after I arrived at the ballpark) boredom struck. Everyone stopped talking to me because they had used up all of their English vocabulary and first base is historically a boring position reserved for non-athletic lefties and fat dudes.
But in the sixth, inspiration struck. From the on-deck circle I realized that the bases were loaded when one of my teammates said, "Mark, hit ball fast." I said OK and strolled to the plate. The pitcher had gotten me out my last time up and he looked confident. (Poor guy)
He threw a first pitch fastball. Strike. Then he shook off the catcher's pitch call and smirked. (Again, poor guy) I knew he was going to try his curve. The pitcher reached back, legged kicked like his hip spasmed and floated up a very weak pitch that spun furiously without curving or moving fast.
I crushed it. A grand slam.
While jogging around the bases, everyone on the other team came to a base to high-five me. My team had a high-five line at the plate and the pitcher even gave me a bow after he was taken out of the game. They gave me the ball after and even when I told them it was not necessary, they refused to have it back.
I hit another home-run on my next at-bat and the same parade went down. To be honest, I got a kick out of how excited they got but this is nothing to brag about. The bat I used would have been illegal in American high schools because it was too light and both pitchers were pretty much beginners. I actually felt kind of bad about it after because my RBI's alone put the game out of reach.
The whole day ended up being a very unique and touching experience. The players really went of their way to make sure I was having a good time and to see how passionate they were about a game that is generally taken for granted in the states, was humbling. Most of these guys have only been playing for a few years and even take baseball lessons as adults during the week to get better.
After the game I was called the hero of the day and received many congratulatory hugs.
And to think, it was only a practice game.
Get Lost my friends....
It was a practice game of sorts that was not actually on a field but rather a big dirt space usually used for soccer. It kinda had a mound. It kinda had a backstop. It kinda had foul lines. It was kind of a baseball diamond.
I played with a group of guys between the ages of 27 and 42 against a team with the same demographics. They were all Koreans, they all smoked in between innings and they all loved playing baseball. The warm-up drills were formally done with batting practice and ground balls to go with it. Everyone had matching uniforms and expensive gear. Pep talks were given with vigor and we even lined up before the game and bowed to the opposing team.
I felt exhilarated. I came from playing in an old-man-softball-league where everyone crushed Keystones, cussed at each other and the idea of a bat-in-hand brawl breaking out always loomed.
Here, respect for the other team and the game comes first.
Our team, Khazon, scored 7 runs in the first inning while I walked and scored on a double. I then played first base. The idea being that I grew up playing baseball so I could at least catch a ball. I liked it. The pitcher tried a few pick off plays and the other team tried speaking English every time they reached first.
It was a perfect way to spend my Sunday. But, after about the fifth inning, and after I had hit an RBI-double and popped out, (4-hours and 15-minutes after I arrived at the ballpark) boredom struck. Everyone stopped talking to me because they had used up all of their English vocabulary and first base is historically a boring position reserved for non-athletic lefties and fat dudes.
But in the sixth, inspiration struck. From the on-deck circle I realized that the bases were loaded when one of my teammates said, "Mark, hit ball fast." I said OK and strolled to the plate. The pitcher had gotten me out my last time up and he looked confident. (Poor guy)
He threw a first pitch fastball. Strike. Then he shook off the catcher's pitch call and smirked. (Again, poor guy) I knew he was going to try his curve. The pitcher reached back, legged kicked like his hip spasmed and floated up a very weak pitch that spun furiously without curving or moving fast.
I crushed it. A grand slam.
While jogging around the bases, everyone on the other team came to a base to high-five me. My team had a high-five line at the plate and the pitcher even gave me a bow after he was taken out of the game. They gave me the ball after and even when I told them it was not necessary, they refused to have it back.
I hit another home-run on my next at-bat and the same parade went down. To be honest, I got a kick out of how excited they got but this is nothing to brag about. The bat I used would have been illegal in American high schools because it was too light and both pitchers were pretty much beginners. I actually felt kind of bad about it after because my RBI's alone put the game out of reach.
The whole day ended up being a very unique and touching experience. The players really went of their way to make sure I was having a good time and to see how passionate they were about a game that is generally taken for granted in the states, was humbling. Most of these guys have only been playing for a few years and even take baseball lessons as adults during the week to get better.
After the game I was called the hero of the day and received many congratulatory hugs.
And to think, it was only a practice game.
Get Lost my friends....
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