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'Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.'
What do  Korean children treasure more than the ability to swim (while living on an island)?  What puts more sparkle in those tiny black eyes than a brand new 10,000W bill fresh from the mint?  What causes more animosity, treachery, deceit, competition and tears than anything else in the modern Korean child?  No, it's not a new bike.  It's not a computer game.  It's not even Pokemon cards.  It's a simple glittery sticker no larger than the eraser on a pencil (which is actually rare here in Korea...) that comes in the shape of a star or heart.  As a form of positive reinforcement, I have my students compete on workbook assignments.  Clawing tooth and nail through the tedious "I would like some, thank you." sentences as well as the more difficult "I went to the store yesterday to buy some veggies, an apple and juice." these kids will scribble nearly unintelligibly, simply scrawling whatever seemingly correct Engrish seeps from their skulls, all in the hope of ascertaining that beloved and revered sticker.   Once the child has garnished his/her finger tip with the new bedazzled plastic, it is put on a particular sheet of paper containing numerous circles, sometimes representing balloons or cookies.  Every 2-3 months, on Sticker Party Day, these treasures are totaled, allowing for the leading student to get a 'Certificate of Achievement' while the others sit around feeling sorry for themselves saying things like, "Muggahsah Teacha, 3 too" (I needed 3 sticker to tie the winner) or "Mong Teacha, nehgay, joosayo".  (Four more please)  These stickers, upon being tallied by the official representatives (myself and my coteacher) are turned into Dollas, which the kids will spend purchasing Dakboji, snack mix, pb&j, juice, or playing the raffle to maybe win some Pogs (yes, they are still ridiculously popular here) or maybe some Pokemon cards or even a soccer ball, a couple highlighters or a 'ball-pen'. 
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Sticky rice noodles, Ketchup, Sugar, Spicy Vinegar Paste and Onions.
The sticker party is also one of the most boring days for Meaghan and me.  We sit around, doling out old food and damp snacks, while kids attempt to talk to us in Korean, even though we know they can at least say numbers in English.  On the other hand it's a good chance for us to take some candid pictures of the good, the bad, and the ugly in their natural habitat.  On that note, enjoy the following:  (Notice that some of these children have bigger heads then even me.)
 
Korean Penis 03/12/2009
 

I'm sure the title of this post will baffle most at first, and intrigue many.  Before I begin, I'd like to evoke an immortal series of lines from Seinfeld:  (Or Steinfeldt as my Grandmother Mary refers to it)

Let's see, (thinking) how shall I put this.

Just put it.

He took it out.

He what?

He took (blows on her glasses twice to clean them) it out.

He took what out?

It.

He took It, Out?

Yessiree Bob.

He couldn't.

He did.

It?

It.

Out?

Out.

And yes folks, that happened to me at work yesterday.  During a little phonics building activity known as the 'Pink Box Game' (ironically enough), a student we refer to as 'Dexter' decided I had been in Korea way too long without having seen my first Korean penis.  Keep in mind, I'd made miniature corndogs for the cooking class, so I was pretty sure I'd gotten the gist, but apparently that was just not satisfying enough for young Dexter.(Please also keep in mind that I lived with a toddler and his family for a month or so, who's counting, when I moved to Florida, and I never once saw his membrum virile despite sharing a bathroom with the little guy.  His father is a different story...) During our Pink Box Game as I asked kids to identify cards with pictures of a Boat, a Book, a Bat, and a Ball on them, Dexter began tucking in his shirt.  Or so I thought.  The child rarely pays attention to any lesson, even the ones that somehow strike basic interest in the congregation, and this exercise was no different.  Perhaps Dexter interpreted my 'Please answer this question correctly so I don't feel like I'm talking to a wall with a bad haircut' look as a sign of genuine curiosity into the workings of the young Korean anatomy.  Unfortunately for Dexter, he could not have been more wrong.  My member is the only one I do not mind seeing.  And that is being generous.  (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)  If I am forced to see the minor extremities of another male, I would pray it not be that of an adolescent, let alone a neonate. 
So there I was, face-to-little-purple-phallus and stunned.  Dexter sat there with a sly grin on his face, that I read as 'Yep, take it all in, this ain't no Gimbap roll'.  I'm not exactly sure of my word usage during the proceeding 10 seconds, but I believe it went something like this;
'Dexter!  No!  Ahni!  Hajima, hajima!!! Go, get out!  Are you kidding me?  Put that thing away!"  (Ahni means NO and Hajima is basically  Don't Do That)
Unfortunately, my wonderful Korean co-teacher named Candy speaks only very basic English and does not know the English word for 음경.  So there I was, escorting Dexter into the hallway (Candy was already out there disciplining/talking to a student that had been misbehaving) and attempting to play charades to let her know that young Dexter had whipped out his wang in front of me and the whole class.  All she could do was laugh, as I walked back into the classroom, trying to refocus and clear that disturbing and minuscule image from my innocent mind. 
Dexter was spoken to, and sent back into class shortly thereafter, with the same sly look on his face.  I guess I can chalk all this up to cultural differences.  I mean, the kids here will try to poke you in the anus if you bend over, poke you in the fly if you are standing up in front of them and will smack your butt just for fun.  I've even learned that elderly Korean women will often ask to see the penis of a vernal youth because it is considered very cute when it's that young and immature. 

Perhaps that's why I get all those propositions on the street late at night...

Here's to cultural relativism!

 
 
All photos taken by Muggs are not to be copied, borrowed, printed or stolen without his permission. Any text is not to be copied or repeated without permission.