<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279</id><updated>2011-07-08T12:15:47.646-07:00</updated><category term='others'/><category term='media'/><category term='responsibility'/><category term='korea'/><category term='asian'/><category term='trust'/><category term='exploring'/><category term='change'/><category term='social'/><category term='help'/><category term='North Korea'/><category term='travel'/><category term='Gran Torino'/><category term='teacher'/><category term='family'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='orientation'/><category term='differences'/><category term='past'/><category term='teaching'/><category term='regret'/><category term='american'/><category term='students'/><category term='mistakes'/><category term='culture'/><category term='random'/><category term='goals'/><category term='language'/><category term='fatherhood'/><category term='depression'/><category term='smoe'/><category term='life'/><category term='time'/><category term='cultural differences'/><category term='nationality'/><category term='respect'/><category term='ethnicity'/><category term='seoul'/><category term='convenience'/><category term='strength'/><category term='identity'/><category term='america'/><category term='Vietnamese'/><category term='socialization'/><category term='arrival'/><category term='love'/><category term='korean'/><category term='fat'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>What Defines You?</title><subtitle type='html'>Is it the amount of money you make?

or

How much good you do in the world?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5017353938875908945</id><published>2011-03-24T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T00:17:01.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation</title><content type='html'>At first, I thought it was too soon to book another trip back home, a two and a half months since I returned to Korea in late August. I figured everything would be the same, my friends would be the same, my parents would be the same, my brothers would be the same, and my dog would be the same.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, as that mid January date approached in the shivering Korean coldness, I longed for that warm Californian heat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I returned home, it was more or less...the same. The sights, sounds, smells, even my little cousins running around. It was like I, to use a nerdy reference, quick saved it and then came back to it six months later. As I expected, every was...pretty much the same. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I noticed some things were changing, small things, little things. I noticed that a few my friends were slowly moving on with their lives, going on to bigger and better things. It was subtle, it was small things. Different goals in their lives in as much as there were different goals in my life. The trite thing to say is say is that the only constant is change, which is true, however, it's always interesting to see these things happen in little snippets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After my return home, I went to Hong Kong to visit a good friend of mine from college. It was my first true vacation. Anyone who visits home knows that going home is never a vacation, it's always stressful, always family to see, always things to do, always business to take care of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hong Kong was the first time where I brought my bags, money, and simply enjoyed myself and had fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a word, it was... awesome. It was nice simply exploring the city, it was nice reconnecting with my friend and making many more in the process. It's amazing seeing new sights and sounds. It was the same feeling I had when I first arrived in Korea. Everything's so new. It's like new car smell...but everywhere!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even so, with so much fun to be had, I was constantly thinking about the next step. I've always realized that teaching abroad was my before 30 career before I settled down. As I was approaching my later years in college, I asked older, successful people one question: If you could do it all over again, what would you do? They all replied: I would've traveled more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never had the opportunity to travel. That's why I'm doing it now. However, I digress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe now that have stumbled upon what I want to do later in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5017353938875908945?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5017353938875908945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5017353938875908945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5017353938875908945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5017353938875908945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2011/03/vacation.html' title='Vacation'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5695845174299601513</id><published>2010-10-03T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T18:47:33.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Linebacking in Korea</title><content type='html'>In early life we acquire skills in order to be successful in later life. We first learn to crawl then to walk, Iwe learn to speak then to read, and of course we learn so socialize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few things that have directly helped me out -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. High school football&lt;br /&gt;If there is one skill I use on a daily basis it's football. I routinely have to navigate through the masses and in fact I also have to push women and children out of the way. Especially women and children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I'll be walking and someone would be in front of me and I'd have to juke him or her out. Or sometimes I'll be stuck in a crowd on the subway and I'll have to push people out of the way to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the thing that tests my fitness more than anything is when I see my bus or train coming and then I would have to make a dead sprint in order to catch it. Well that and stairs. Man oh man are there so many stairs here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Taking Chinese&lt;br /&gt;Now my Chinese isn't the greatest but I can sorta get around. When I first arrived here with pretty much no knowledge of Korean I relied on my Chinese to get around town on the tube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Drinking&lt;br /&gt;Omg Koreans drink so much. I would have been ill prepared if not for all the Korean friends (and friends that liked to drink) that I had in college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my first or second week at my school the PE teachers, all male by the way, took me out for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now dinner does not mean just dinner - it also means lots and lots of drinking. While eating sam gyup sal the teachers poured cup after cup of soju to see if I could hang. And hang I did...and that meant going into work the next day with a massive hang over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Growing up eating weird things&lt;br /&gt;Asia has a lot of weird things to eat, for instance, sushi itself is a bit weird - it's raw fish! Don't you normally cook stuff before you eat it? Furthermore, it's weird how sushi has become more or less normal in American society.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, since I've grown up in a Chinese Vietnamese American household I've been accustomed to eating lots of weird things, so when come  face to face with things in Korea, like eating live octopus, I just kind of shrug.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not touching dog though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Having lots of friends who like kpop and dramas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh man this was huge. Because I knew practically nothing about popular culture on arrival, I had to sort of learn everything on my own, but it was a good thing I could always try to remember what my friends liked back home. Also it tremendously helped in my lesson planning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.8&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5695845174299601513?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5695845174299601513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5695845174299601513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5695845174299601513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5695845174299601513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/09/linebacking-in-korea.html' title='Linebacking in Korea'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-3331798174209471488</id><published>2010-07-14T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T00:18:43.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asian Parenting</title><content type='html'>I've long wondered whether or not it was just me. I always wondered how other kids were able to so easily talk with their parents and have these weird close intimate relations with them. They pretty much made sure I was taken care of and left me to my own devices.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad would often work long ass hours, from morning to midnight-type of long hours. I'd barely see him. I'd wake up and he'd go off to work. I'd be going to bed and he'd barely be coming home. Mom might be working, might not be, depending on the economy and whether or not the Cold War era industries have come and gone or not. But mom would usually be there when I came home. She fed me and made me go do my homework before I can do anything else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was weird for me because when I spoke to my peers (in elementary school and such) their fathers would generally come home right before dinner and they'd talk and stuff. Not my dad. I'd be lucky enough to say hi before he went to work. Heck, he even worked weekends for pretty much my entire life. I remember thinking how much it sucks because he never took the family everywhere but eventually I grew up and realized he worked those long ass hours for the family, to provide for us everything that we needed - provided it was something that was actually needed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a side note - one of the "tricks" we (as in my brothers and my friends) used to do as kids to get things was to say it's for "school".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Using Korea as a comparison regarding the greater East-Asian Confucian child rearing concept, I see a lot of similarities with my childhood as I do with pretty much all of my students. They go to school, go home to study/go to academies to study eat dinner and sleep. Rinse and repeat most every day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many of my male workers don't immediately go home after work, usually they do after school classes and further still they would probably go out with their friends for dinner somewhere and  get home at around nine or ten, on most weekdays. I'd ask them how often they'd talk to their kids and the fathers would respond, "Oh once in awhile, usually I'd punish them if they did anything wrong." Mothers would generally arrive home at about six, which is when students normally also walk through the door (after after school activities and such), to make sure the kids are well fed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've noticed that kids here have a certain sort of limited freedom if they're not at school or at academies studying. They go to noraebangs or pc bangs with their friends, they'd walk around the neighborhood and more or less raise themselves. Actually, a better way to say it would be that the society as a whole would raise children. Teachers here are often seen as second parents. In a way, they're tasked in raising the kids because they'd see teachers more often than they their own parents because of all the time spent in school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here I thought I was the only one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-3331798174209471488?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/3331798174209471488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=3331798174209471488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3331798174209471488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3331798174209471488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/07/asian-parenting.html' title='Asian Parenting'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-9050307075157508974</id><published>2010-07-02T01:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T01:32:11.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you had a one of a kind cup that once poured, could pour an unlimited amount of a certain liquid. However, it's a regular metal thermos and can stop pouring whenever. What liquid would you want in that thermos?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;Pure, natural water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The essence of life yo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/ahulkthai?utm_medium=social&amp;utm_source=blogger&amp;utm_campaign=shareanswer"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-9050307075157508974?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/9050307075157508974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=9050307075157508974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/9050307075157508974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/9050307075157508974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/07/if-you-had-one-of-kind-cup-that-once.html' title='If you had a one of a kind cup that once poured, could pour an unlimited amount of a certain liquid. However, it&amp;#39;s a regular metal thermos and can stop pouring whenever. What liquid would you want in that thermos?'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-1756397301994824001</id><published>2010-06-20T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T00:08:45.471-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='convenience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>A Culture of Convenience</title><content type='html'>When deciding upon coming to Korea and upon arrival, I wondered how I'd get around without a car. Sure, I heard of something called a "subway" or "bus" but in California, these things are myths, heard of but never seen, like the fabled black albino. I was sad, not only because I'd be gone from my car, but because I'd actually have to carry things, like in a back pack (or goodness gracious, some sort of bag). I wouldn't be able to use my car as a massive storage locker that I could hoard things with. I'd leave water in there just in case I needed some, I'd leave a snack or two, an umbrella perhaps, and a lot of other things one might need in a day to day venture. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little did I know that I wouldn't NEED to hoard because in Korea, things are EVERYWHERE. I used to think it was a little ridiculous to have two Starbucks in close proximity to each other but over here, there are some places that have three or four in a block! Not only will there be Starbucks but there would also be Dunkin Donuts, Coffee Bean, and an assortment of smaller coffee places and the strangest thing of all is that they'd all be full! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that's just coffee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seoul is abounded with large quantities of almost everything. I could be walking down the street to my friend's apartment and if I just so happened to be a little be parched, I could just walk and a few meters (because Korea uses the metric system) later, I'd be able to walk into a Family Mart (or Seven-Eleven if you prefer) and buy myself a nice refreshing drink. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead of being just a bit thirsty, suppose that you're HUNGRY and fiending for some KOREAN BBQ! (just called BBQ here in Korea) Those places are very abundant in Seoul. One would probably stumble upon at least three traveling to any given location. Also, these places typically would also be filled with older, drunk Korean men. You don't really get the Korean experience without the loud, old men in the restaurant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's also nice is how quickly delivery comes. One would be able to call almost any sort of food service (McDonald's delivers here, Chinese, Korean food, pizza, it's all good) and it'll come rather expediently&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now let's suppose you're a girl, because that's key for this next example, and you need a scarf to complete your outfit. Fear not! There are PLENTY of shopping areas pretty much everywhere. Subways are filled with inexpensive shops and booths that sell all these random accessories and outfits. A female friend of mine once remarked, "Shopping should be illegal here. It's so cheap and it's everywhere. That's why I'm always late to things! And OMG the shoes! SO MANY STYLES!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now only if I can find some clothes that actually fit, then I'd be in business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-1756397301994824001?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/1756397301994824001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=1756397301994824001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1756397301994824001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1756397301994824001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/06/culture-of-convenience.html' title='A Culture of Convenience'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-7063914892740984250</id><published>2010-06-08T17:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T17:53:52.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you think is the most rewarding thing about your job right now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;A while ago I was walking to school and a student was late and saw me and run up to catch up to me. He walked with me the rest of the way to school (knowing he'd be punished by being late) and we talked about life. He talked about how his friend was feeling a little suicidal (as a teacher we'd say this is higher level thinking and communication) and how he was sad for her and wanted to help her out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that week his regular English teacher told me how he felt awesome just being able to talk to me about that kind of stuff. That's when I knew I was going in the right direction in life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/ahulkthai?utm_medium=social&amp;utm_source=blogger&amp;utm_campaign=shareanswer"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-7063914892740984250?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/7063914892740984250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=7063914892740984250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7063914892740984250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7063914892740984250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-do-you-think-is-most-rewarding.html' title='What do you think is the most rewarding thing about your job right now?'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-2491644695246674330</id><published>2010-06-07T20:30:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T20:30:44.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What was your first paying job?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;I worked at Disneyland, believe it or not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/ahulkthai?utm_medium=social&amp;utm_source=blogger&amp;utm_campaign=shareanswer"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-2491644695246674330?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/2491644695246674330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=2491644695246674330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2491644695246674330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2491644695246674330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-was-your-first-paying-job.html' title='What was your first paying job?'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-3466653103166924286</id><published>2010-06-07T20:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T20:30:21.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How's Seoul? :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;It's good! The weather has some getting used to at first but once one's able to handle the humidity and the crazy non-Californian cold, it's rather nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny because one of my friends asked me, &amp;quot;Hey, do they all dress like in Korean dramas?&amp;quot; First I said, &amp;quot;They just call them 'dramas' here. And yes, many people do dress as if it were a drama.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foods really good, I've always been a foodie. The one thing I don't like is how good non-Korean food is super expensive. That's one thing I know I took for granted back home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/ahulkthai?utm_medium=social&amp;utm_source=blogger&amp;utm_campaign=shareanswer"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-3466653103166924286?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/3466653103166924286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=3466653103166924286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3466653103166924286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3466653103166924286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/06/how-seoul.html' title='How&amp;#39;s Seoul? :)'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-1911328857040732773</id><published>2010-06-07T20:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T20:28:20.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you had only ONE day left to live, how would you spend it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;I mostly likely would steal a pair of binoculars somewhere and get to the highest point I could find and just people watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then go have an adventure myself!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/ahulkthai?utm_medium=social&amp;utm_source=blogger&amp;utm_campaign=shareanswer"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-1911328857040732773?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/1911328857040732773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=1911328857040732773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1911328857040732773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1911328857040732773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-you-had-only-one-day-left-to-live.html' title='If you had only ONE day left to live, how would you spend it?'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-8116092643507019137</id><published>2010-05-26T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T08:24:21.772-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='North Korea'/><title type='text'>Don't Panic, make sure you have a towel</title><content type='html'>It's nice being busy. Work, class, gym, hang out. You really can't ask for much more than that. Personally, I like being busy because if I'm not, I end up doing a whole lot of nothing. Like in college where you get a day off from work, have nothing planned, just wanting to relax and you end up...doing nothing the entire day. A few of those days here and there are nice but too many makes me feel like a waste.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quite recently, South Korea had announced that it had determined that North Korea was the cause of the destruction of the South Korean naval ship, &lt;i&gt;Cheonan&lt;/i&gt;. Right after the incident was reported I immediately registered with the embassy and took a look see at some evacuation procedures just in case. I live south of the Han River and the closest evacuation point for me would be the Mok Dong Ice Rink. Talking to some of my military buddies, looks like we'd be evac'd to Japan if anything happens. I'm always hoping nothing will but just in case it's nice to know where to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never understood how good we had it back at home. How VERY good we had it. My parents flew a war torn country to get to a place where all you needed to do was to go to school, get good grades, get a nice job, and be happy. Many of the people who grew up in Orange County often remark on how it's "the bubble" because we're so sheltered from the "rest" of the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never had to think about war or military action. Stuff like that was always a world away. These days I've been reading articles and posts on forums on people's opinion on what's happening with this North Korea situation. The articles would talk about Kim Jong-Il, nuclear weapons, what would happen to Seoul, this that and the other thing and I realized something - it's just a game for them. A game of analysis, a game of debate. They have nothing in stake because hey, they're a world away. It's a whole 'nother ball game when it's right at your doorstep. All of my friends who I've talked aren't trying to analyze anything, they're not trying to see the financial ramifications or the political movements in all of it, they're just trying to stay calm and collected because like me, they've never had to worry about stuff like this before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As always, random stuff -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- The Korean accent is funny to me. my female companion once remarked that she liked "chomby" movies. I looked at her and asked her what that meant in English. She said, "No no, chomby, you know, scary."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Huh?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"They eat your brains?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"OH &lt;b&gt;z&lt;/b&gt;ombie movies!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Koreans don't have the "z" so they have a difficult time pronouncing it. Oftentimes it comes out sounding like a "ch".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- On that note, some of my teacher friends are devious. My friend told me a story about how one lesson was about presidents and such and how one of the vocabulary words was "election.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hilarity ensued.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can tell our level of maturity with that one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Recently I've been trying out that P90x thing. I really like it, it's super useful. Unfortunately, it's not for me. After doing it (sort of) for about a month, I've lost a lot of muscle mass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- At the gym tonight I put my cheerleading training to good use. I was sitting at the bench press resting when I saw two of the female gym staff members carrying this unconscious girl to the front. I BURST into action and helped carry her to the front of the gym where she woke up. She's fine now. One of the staff members gave me an energy drink for that. It was nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I've come to realize why we watched so many movies in hs and college. Damn teachers are lazy. How do I know? There are just some days where I look at my kids and go, "Man, I wish I could just put on Mr. Bean right now, dang kids."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- How to Train Your Dragon was bad ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Apparently Koreans don't really like milk tea. It explains the lack of boba shops around. I travel far and wide in search of boba. I've been calling it bubble tea recently because for some reason, the rest of the US calls it bubble tea. My friends and I have found one place in Sinchon and one place in Myeongdong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- My Vietnamese and Chinese is so bad now. I called my mom the other day and it was the funniest thing you'd ever seen. Granted, my Vietnamese was never great or even decent but man, seeing as how only speak it about once every month or so it's hard to maintain it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- For the longest time back home I didn't like bibimbap. I know it's good. But shoot, I can't justify spending eight bucks on rice, veggies, and gochujang (which is this Korean sauce thing, very similar to Vietnamese hoisin sauce in how it's in EVERYTHING in Korea). But now that I'm in Korea, for 4000 won (roughly 4 bucks), it's delicious!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I'm convinced that when Star Craft II comes out, nothing will get done in Korea for at least a month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-8116092643507019137?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/8116092643507019137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=8116092643507019137' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8116092643507019137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8116092643507019137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/05/dont-panic-make-sure-you-have-towel.html' title='Don&apos;t Panic, make sure you have a towel'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-6430705876140532072</id><published>2010-05-05T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T23:45:09.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sticking Out like a Sore Thumb</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It's official. I can't shop at Dongdaemun. It's the local clothing flea market-type thing in Seoul. You go around, do some eye shopping (that's what window shopping is in Konglish), haggle a bit, buy some stuff, go home. Thing is, they tend to mark the price up for Westerners so haggling's a bitch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the other day, my buddy Matt and I came up with this devious plan - instead of speaking English, we'll speak broken ass Chinese (because that's how good our Chinese is -_-). We were excited, finally I could haggle with the rest of the Asians. It was the best plan ever! Anyhow, we get there, walk around, comment on things in Chinese, talk about the weather and stuff (again because it's one of the few things ALL language classes teach). We stop by one shop as I spot something I like. Before I could spout any sort of Chinese commenting on the shirt the shop keeper looks at me and says "Hi, American? I give you good deal." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frack. I'm the worst spy ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So alas, our cover was blown so we switched to our native English and continue on shopping and looking around. I was wearing a jacket at the time, thinking that somehow a jacket will add to my disguise of not being American, and we approached a vendor. I asked in Korean, "Do you have any extra large sizes?" He said, "Ha, you're not extra large, take off your jacket." So I promptly oblige. He just kinda looked at me and just said, "No clothes." I guess wearing a jacket really does hide your figure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, it seems that only people in Dongdaemun (and taxi drivers) are adept at spotting Asian foreigners. When I go to restaurants and such, the waiters/waitresses automatically assume I'm Korean. Hell, since I'm learning Korean right now I'm able to order the basic stuff here and there. The funny thing is if I'm given options with my order or if they say something about the order, I'm effed and I just end up looking like a fool trying to say "Oh, I don't speak Korean" when I just spoke Korean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What happens sometimes is when I'm waiting for the subway to come and an ajumma (old lady) comes and speaks to me in Korean. I'm assuming she's asking about the train arrival or if it goes somewhere specific. I would immediately tell her that I don't speak Korean. More often than not, said ajumma would then get all mad and start screaming at me telling me to go to hell and what not because I'm a no good Korean because I don't speak Korean. Before I can say anything else off she storms off to find the nearest real Korean to ask directions from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And of course, quick hits -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently I'm super Californian. Many of the people I meet over here often remark how Californian I am with all the polo wearing, hair spiking, chuck shoe lace tying, and of course, cold weather complaining. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of cold weather, now I know why my parents moved to California. Thank you mom and dad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Quickly, the boba place, just opened in Myeongdong. Even though it's about an hour away, I go there often enough now that the employees already know me by remarking, "Oh hey Wesley, he's here again!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking which, Korea has really altered my perception of time. Back at home, I would absolutely hate driving more than 30 minutes to get anywhere, heck, 25 minutes is really pushing it. But over here if someone invites me to let's say Sinchon for something that's like 45 minutes away? No problem! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-6430705876140532072?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/6430705876140532072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=6430705876140532072' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6430705876140532072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6430705876140532072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/05/sticking-out-like-sore-thumb.html' title='Sticking Out like a Sore Thumb'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-3274392597450119913</id><published>2010-04-29T19:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T19:14:15.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what's the most awkward thing that's happened to you as a teacher?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;Hmm, one of the first weeks where a student asked me if I had a gun. For a second I was dumbfounded before I remembered that most of the information my students receive about America is from the media (movies, television shows, and the like) and since many of these shows and movies depict gun wielding Americans as a rule rather than the exception, I can see that they picture Americans as kinda crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, I think that's how they perceive it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/ahulkthai"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-3274392597450119913?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/3274392597450119913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=3274392597450119913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3274392597450119913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3274392597450119913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-most-awkward-thing-that-happened.html' title='what&amp;#39;s the most awkward thing that&amp;#39;s happened to you as a teacher?'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-1593379344494696476</id><published>2010-04-19T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T17:50:37.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll have the usual please</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(110, 113, 115); line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;Back at home, I used to frequent this little Vietnamese bakery called Gala Bakery near my house at least three times a week back in my college days. It had the best cafe sua da, Vietnamese iced coffee, and pate chaud, these little pork/chicken baked pastry-type things. They were very good. I went there so often that when they see my car they’d automatically have a cup of coffee sitting on the counter waiting for me to consume it. Oftentimes I’d simply get a coffee so I’d simply walk in, hand them the cash (with exact change), take my coffee from the counter, and walk back into my car. During those times, the only things said were, “Thanks” and “You’re welcome” in Vietnamese.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;Over here in Seoul, there are two places that have the same sort of familiarity near my place. The first was is an older street vendor who sells these chicken skewer thingies that I tried with a Korean friend when I first got here. I see him every day as I pass him to go to the subway, I’d slightly bow as I say hi. He doesn’t speak a lick of English and I’m slowly progressing in my Korean so we don’t really speak much. When I do order from him though, I simply stand in front of him and he readily cooks the chicken skewer with my preferred sauce.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;The other spot is this little Korean dumpling place in the street market near my apartment. I often walk by the little shop as I come home from work. There’s this nice Korean lady who often runs the front of the store that I see when I’m there. I remember one day she asked how the dumplings were, since she saw me all the time, and I told her I thought they were super delicious. Every since then she’d always give me an extra dumpling.  I gather that I’m unique in that I spoke to her in my broken ass Korean and that she’d see me about the same time every day. So every time I come there now she knows exactly what I want. It’s rather nice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-1593379344494696476?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/1593379344494696476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=1593379344494696476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1593379344494696476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1593379344494696476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/04/ill-have-usual-please.html' title='I&apos;ll have the usual please'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-530209099454869392</id><published>2010-03-23T04:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T18:24:53.002-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='students'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>Student-isms: 7 Commonly Encountered</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Kids say the darndest things, as they say. Now, if you change up some cultural considerations and mix around different social mores here, kids will then say some pretty funny stuff. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The following quotes are all true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I'm fine, thank you, and you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Remember how most of us took Spanish as the foreign language requirement in high school? Well, I didn't because I took French because I wanted to be a non conformist for some reason. To this day I only remember how to count and how to say cheese omelette. In any case, you'll remember the answer to "Hola, como estas?" is always "Bien, y tu?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you study English, the correct answer to"Hi, how're you?" will always be "I'm fine, thank you, and you?" It's a running joke amongst the teaching community here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Mr. Thai, do you have a gun?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We get much of our perceptions, however wrong or right, from movies and televisions nowadays. Many Americans think that Amsterdam is a place for drugs and hookers (yay Eurotrip), Vietnam is full of hookers that will love you long time, and that Jamaicans all get high all day and all night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Due to American programming where shows such as CSI, 24, and anything Fox can come up with , reign supreme many people outside of the states have a perception that all of America is dangerous and we all have guns for some reason, JUST in case there's a gang fight in the middle of the street so we'll all start shooting each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Show me the money&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know how we all know a few words of a foreign language from certain films here and there? Many Americans have learned "di di mau" from various Vietnamese War movies, "omelette du fromage" from Dexter's Laboratory, and how every Austrian speaks like Arnold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm assuming some of my students just saw Jerry McGuire because it became one of the only phrases my kids say to me outside of class.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Typical conversation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;me - "Hi ______, how're you?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;kid - "I'm fine, thank you, and you?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;me - "Great!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;kid - "SHOW ME THE MONEYY!" *holds hand out for money, I laugh and walk away, they chase me shouting, seeing this, about 8 more kids start chasing me shouting the exact same thing."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Mr. Thai, do you have a wife?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Remember when you were in middle school and how everyone over the age of 20 was considered old? I imagine that's how my kids view me. One of the first questions I was asked by my very first class I taught was, "Do you have a wife?" Now, this struck me as odd because this never happens back at home. My first thought was, "Oh shit, do I that old? I knew I should've gotten botox when I had the chance!" Turns out, Korean men about my age get hitched about...my age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's funny in the regard is not only do students ask me if I have a wife but other coworkers do as well. When I respond that I don't have a wife they always say, "Why not? Go get married...now!" I just can't win.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Korean middle school students have the maturity of your 8 year old cousin. They chase each other around, call each other names (like ugly face), and play fight with tennis rackets and ping pong paddles. Often these actions cause these students to scream bloody murder and go "TEACHER! HE'S HITTING ME!" or the ubiquitous "HE'S TOUCHING ME!!!!" or the best "(to another student) I'm not gay. (to me) Teacher! Make him stop touch (sic)  me!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. She's ugly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My female students have no problem voicing their opinion on any given person's attractiveness. When I play music videos for them before class often times they would either say "no!! ugglyyy!" or "oh my gawd, so beautiful!" In fact, there have been many times where a group of female students would stop me in the hall to tell me this, "Mr. Thai! You know what?" "What?" "She's ugly!" *points to another female in the group, at which time random Korean words are then spoken and they start chasing each other around and I go on my merry way to wherever I was headed*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Mr. Thai, you are handsome. Give me candy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Students like to be suave and tricky. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many times, they would simply skip the whole flattery thing and go for the main goal - chocolate. They'd walk right up to me and say "cho-co-late!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To which I say, "chu-gu-lay?" (do you wanna die?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"No no teacher, CHOC-CO-LATE!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"yes yes, CHU-GU-LAY?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"choc-co!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"chu-gu"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"chocolate!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"chugulay!" *repeat for another five minutes, student walks away in failure, I do the evil teacher laugh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's similar to that one episode of The Simpsons where the family goes down to Australia and Marge tries to order coffee at a bar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marge - "A cup of coffee please" &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Bartender- "One can of beer coming right up"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"No no, coffee."  &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;"Be-er"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Cof-fee" &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;"Bee-eer"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"C-o-f-f-e-e" &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;"B-e-e-r"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bonus! Teacher Quote 8. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was in the little English teachers office and we were talking about some school related stuff. A co teacher told me after talking about it, "Oh please don't tell anyone about what we just talked about." I then told her, "It's okay, we have a saying back home 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.'" We all laugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She then asks, "Wait, what happens in Vegas?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I giggle and walk away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-530209099454869392?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/530209099454869392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=530209099454869392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/530209099454869392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/530209099454869392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/03/student-isms-7-commonly-encountered.html' title='Student-isms: 7 Commonly Encountered'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-6296121202356589995</id><published>2010-03-09T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T23:28:48.455-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cultural differences'/><title type='text'>FAN DEATH and 9 other funny things about Korea</title><content type='html'>Korea's full of fun, quirky things.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. FAN DEATH - This is something that I've never heard of until coming here. Supposedly, if an electric fan is left on over night while you sleep, you will DIE. The reasons for this range from hypothermia (because the fan keeps cooling you forever and ever) to asphyxiation (because the fan sucks out all the oxygen). In fact, this belief is so widespread that all electric fans come with a timer so if you forget to turn off the fan, it'll do so automatically! More information could be found at &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fan_death"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fan_death&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Conversation with a co-teacher about it - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: "Hey, if you leave the fan on at night and sleep, what will happen?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her: "Well, you DIE! Everyone knows that."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. YOU'RE A LOSER - Some months ago, a girl at a local university here (Hongik University for anyone who knows), was on a nationally broad casted talk show and caused quite an uproar. Now, Korean talk shows are different from American talk shows because instead of having one or two guests and a host, it's about 20 guests and maybe a few hosts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girl was asked about guys and what kind she prefers. She responded that she likes tall men, which everyone could probably agree is pretty normal with the "dark and handsome" archetype. Now, she continued to say that she only likes men who are 180cm or taller and considers those under that height requirement to be "losers" and only those deemed tall enough to be "winners". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The station and the girl caught a lot of bad press for said incident, the station for not editing the footage out before broad casting and the girl for...well you know. Word on the street has it that she left school because no one likes her anymore. This incident is so famous that two jokes came out of it - Kim Jong Il attacking the South Korean navy just days after that event and when college students are drunk they'd go around saying "hey! you're a winner!" or "hey! you're a loser!" to other drunk college kids. I'm a loser. =(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. WHERE DID YOU GET YOUR WORK DONE? - When talking to Koreans, I notice that they stare at me often, not because I'm a foreigner or anything like that, but because apparently I have facial features that are considered to be desirable in contemporary Korean society.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Image is HUGE in Korea (and so are tissues...if you know that joke) and thus so is plastic surgery. Subways and buses are loaded with advertisement depicting numerous before and after photos and how this clinic or that clinic will enable you to look your "best". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oftentimes, they would ask, "Wow, you have eyelids!" I would then respond with, "Yeah, you do too, how else do people blink?" Then they'd giggle and said "No no, you have the fold!" "What fold?" "You don't have that fold?" "No!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. THERE IS NO FOURTH FLOOR - the number four has the same connotation in the East as the number thirteen in America. Sometimes, instead of the 4th floor, it'd be Floor F. This can be traced to Chinese in that the word for four sounds like the word for death. The same reasoning is used for the number eight as it sounds like the word for prosperity in Chinese. Just to clarify, eight is lucky in Chinese, not Korea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seven's lucky in Korea and in America, that is, unless you're playing craps after the point has been made.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. KIM YUNA - They love her here. I love her. She's awesome. She's to ALL OF KOREA like how my friends ruv Kobe back home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. DO THE MACARENA  - Americans have special bond with "audience participation" songs, these include such classic hits as - "YMCA", "Crank That (Soulja Boy)", and the quintessential "Chicken Dance". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That same connection can be said of the youth here in Korea, except instead of a few select songs, it's ALL the songs. Almost every popular song here also comes with a simple, repetitive, yet super catchy dance. I'll throw a song on Youtube for the kids to listen to between class periods and if students come in early they'll almost always start dancing to the song.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A theory on why these dances are easy to replicate is due to the Korean culture of noeraebangs (karaoke) in Korea in which kids would go to hang out and dance away the afternoon/night with their friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. KARAOKE - On that subject, awhile back a student saw me on the street and she waved hello. She was rather excited to see me so I made some small talk. I asked her where she was going and she simply stated that she was going to the noraebang. Now, "no rae" translates to "singing" and "bang" is "room". So to the untrained foreigner, that's simply karaoke to us so I simply restarted to her, "Oh, you're going to karaoke?" She then shook her head and clarified "Oh NO Mr. Thai, I don't drink soju. Karaoke is for adults." Apparently, you can also order girls at these places.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not that I'd know...or anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. DO THE CHA-CHA - In Korea, people tend to walk on the left, it's how they've been taught to their entire lives. Rumor has it that it's due to Japanese influence because back in the day, Japan had samurai who wore their katanas on the left. Walking on the left apparently would enable these warriors to respond quickly to emergencies, like slaying dragons and stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, it's always funny when you're walking and a Korean is also walking directly into your path and you have to do the whole side stepping business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. FEAR THE CAMERA - Koreans LOVE to take pictures, love love love love to take pictures, be it pictures of food, people, places, or multiple pictures of themselves in different poses. One caveat: they love it if they're ready. If they're not, they run for the hills. When I have a mob of students mobbing me asking me questions or requesting candy all I have to do is take out my camera and threaten to take a picture of them (I usually do) and they'll scurry along or hide their faces. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. HYORI TOLD ME TO DRINK SOJU - Koreans love soju. That's just as fact as the sky is blue, the moon is cold, and you shouldn't swim in the Han River. One of my first nights in Korea at my school, a few PE teachers took me out on like a teacher dinner/bonding thing. We ordered samgyupsal and soju. Now, I was told by one of my littles that if you're offered a drink in Korea by an older gentleman...YOU MUST DRINK IT. So drink I did! Also, in Korea, if your glass is empty, it must be refilled, no matter what.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you can see, this caused a bit of a conundrum. They would pour, I would drink, and the process would begin anew. As anyone who has consumed alcohol beverages with me knows - I'm quite a bit of a light weight, so thus is soon became apparent to my Korean co workers that I was slowly but surely becoming drunk. Whilst on this road to un-sobriety, a PE teacher remarked to me, "Slow down! It's okay.*" What I wanted to say was, "No no, YOU slow down." What I said was "Oh it's okay, I can handle it." Obviously I couldn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came in the next day to work, with news already spread somehow, my coteacher greeted me with, "So...I hear you like to party."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BONUS! 11. WELCOME TO BACKWARDSLAND - Pizza and spaghetti are considered "girly" foods. In fact, Mr. Pizza and Pizza Hut are popular date destinations and popular hang outs for young women. Actually, Outback Steakhouse is also considered to be "girly food" over here because of their service, lunch platters, and delicious bread. Man food, as always, is meat and alcohol, or samgyupsal and soju as everyone knows around here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Valentine's Day is the day where GIRLS get to stress over what to get guys. Muahahahahahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;White Day (3/14) is what we know of as Valentine's Day in 'Merica. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Black Day (4/14) is a day where singles go out and eat black noodles. Everyone gets their day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I later learn that what he meant was that I didn't have to take the entire shot. Apparently in Korea, it's okay to sip or go halfsies on shots. Only when the words "ONE SHOT" is shouted at the table must the drinker down the entire cup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-6296121202356589995?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/6296121202356589995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=6296121202356589995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6296121202356589995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6296121202356589995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/03/fan-death-and-9-other-funny-things.html' title='FAN DEATH and 9 other funny things about Korea'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-4374659494873615551</id><published>2010-02-22T11:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T11:16:50.825-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fat'/><title type='text'>I'm obese</title><content type='html'>Using the CDC regulations for Body Mass Index measurement, I come out to a hefty 30 points or so, 30 and higher is considered obese. Now, everyone knows that the BMI is simply used to measure how "dense" someone is and those with higher muscle appropriation would score higher on the BMI and doesn't necessarily mean they have copious amounts of fat stored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I've actually lost quite a bit of weight here since coming to Korea even with eating the same amount/more than I did when I was back home. Actually, I think I drink much much more than back home. Soju sales do quite well here. I go to the gym quite a bit, just as I did back home, and just the same, the amount of progress I've had here is substantially higher as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all leads me to think about the old mantra - you are what you eat. If you eat horrible foods filled with hormones, starch, and countless additives, you in turn will be filled with such delectable items. Oh, I forgot one thing, American food is filled with a grip load of corn. If you take some ground beef from the supermarket, cook it straight, you'll taste the corn straight away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since coming here I've noticed how healthy I've become. I don't feel like absolute shit after eating a nicely portioned meal. Some people say such meals are "hearty", I say such meals are full of crap ingredients. One thing I've noticed is the size of chickens here. They're tiny by American standards. I remember when my family raised some chickens in the backyard and when my mother prepared them for dinner, they didn't have nearly as much meat as normal store bought chickens, such chickens, as everyone knows, are pumped full of hormones because Americans have an obsession with nice white meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What bothers me is how effing fat America is. It seems that it's "okay' for people to be overweight and in some cases, extremely so. Yet we have no one to blame but ourselves. Cheap food, namely from fast food joints and such, are loaded with junk which then proceed to fill up the fat storage of Americans at an alarming rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then people are are extra large and with these extra few pounds they develop problems with their health which in turn leads them to the medical system and insurance companies whose sole option then is then to prescribe drugs for the condition. It's all part of this viscous cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we all are able to watch what we eat, then so much better for all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-4374659494873615551?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/4374659494873615551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=4374659494873615551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4374659494873615551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4374659494873615551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-obese.html' title='I&apos;m obese'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-3336524078920040380</id><published>2010-02-17T11:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T12:05:48.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's like AA</title><content type='html'>Taking it one day at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days I feel pretty good and I feel like I could stay abroad for quite awhile, other times I feel like I just want to go home and be with everything that I'm familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself this is simply a part of growing up - getting away and maturing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself that everything's going to stay the same at home - all my friends tell me so, every time I'd ask them how everything was they'd say it's pretty much how I left it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I realize why I feel like this. It's the feeling of anxiety of not being at home and the thought of maybe missing out on something, something epic and extraordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it may just be that it's during break now and everyone's out doing stuff and I'm in Seoul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-3336524078920040380?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/3336524078920040380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=3336524078920040380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3336524078920040380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3336524078920040380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-like-aa.html' title='It&apos;s like AA'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-7157240511627606965</id><published>2010-02-12T09:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T09:19:45.579-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vietnamese'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='language'/><title type='text'>A Linguistic Adventure</title><content type='html'>My Vietnamese skills are quite horrendous, to be sure. Any Vietnamese speaking friend of mine back home can attest to that and there are also two more examples in Korea that simply add to the testimonials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Example #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My homies and I went down to Ansan to get some legit pho and get some balut. In Ansan, there is a kind non Korean Asian Market Place complete with stores and goods catering to Vietnamese, Indonesian, Chinese, Filipino, and I'm sure much more. We go to this Vietnamese restaurant that I've been to before with my friend Christy and proceed to order. We all get pho and we order some balut for those in our group whom are brave enough to try it. I sure hope I used "whom" correctly there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we eat and into our meal I ask our Vietnamese waitress for something. Now, as a background, there are three Vietnamese dialects, Southern, Central, and Northern, I speak the southern one and our waitress spoke northern. So I ask her for this little side dish and she couldn't understand. I then try to articulate a little bit more and add more of an accent. No dice. I tried one more time just to be sure before I gave up and asked my Korean friend in English to ask the nice, patience Vietnamese waitress in Korean for something that I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out they didn't have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Example #2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My homies and I stumbled upon a random Vietnamese restaurant in the middle of Suwon the other day and we decided to head inside because they actually had Vietnamese writing on the menu. I've stumbled upon many pho places in Korea and I always test them out by first asking if they speak Vietnamese in Vietnamese and then trying the iced coffee. I asked the ajumma that greeted us if she spoke Vietnamese and she gave a blank look and I thought it was another epic fail. That was until someone from the back came and spoke Vietnamese! My friends and I were delighted so we sat down for some iced coffee and other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while we drank our coffee we spoke with the waitress - my friends in Korean with her and I spoke Vietnamese with her. Rather funny because we were translating back and forth since there wasn't a common language that we all spoke. The waitress asked if I had been to Vietnam before, now quick background check again - Vietnamese is a tonal language, so making the same phonemes with different pitches result in drastically different meanings, and I told her I haven't. Good good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she asks me why. Of course, I could give her a normal reason like being in college, having no money, or not having time. Which I did, I told her I didn't have time to go because I've been busy since graduating and coming to Korea. Funny thing is, the word "time" sounds a lot like the word for "wife" in Vietnamese. Guess which one I said?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nice waitress then proceeds to ask how old I am, why I didn't have a wife, and give my friends and I more free food. She also tells us to come back. True story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-7157240511627606965?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/7157240511627606965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=7157240511627606965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7157240511627606965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7157240511627606965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/02/linguistic-adventure.html' title='A Linguistic Adventure'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-561848116082349385</id><published>2010-01-18T07:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T07:57:21.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>It's been a little while since I've last written. I've realized that I do my best writing at night when I should be sleeping. Since I've been trying to develop good sleeping habits, of which I've failed at recently, I haven't been writing as much as I have wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weather&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December and January have been the coldest months of my life. No joke. The cold is nice and all but damn, having weather in the teens is pretty chilly. If it's windy, it's even worse. Some days I just bundle up at home and just leave only if absolutely necessary. They say this winter is the coldest winter Seoul has experience in a century. Now I know why people say Californians don't know what cold really is. I envy all my friends back home for sure. Also, I don't understand why people hate on California's "one" season, you really can't beat going out in shorts and flip flops in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I will say that when dealing with the cold, that's mainly the only thing you have to deal with. In warmer climates, you have to deal with things like bugs and stuff. I remember my first week in my apartment I saw this ginourmous centipede on the wall. Needless to say I screamed like a frightened adolescent in a slasher movie until the centipede met its doom from Mr. Paper Towel. Thank you Mr. Paper towel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when it's warmer I actually have to be fashionable and I just can' t compete with Koreans in this avenue. Right now, I'm literally wearing the same thing every day. Jeans, t shirt, sweater/hoodie, puffy jacket - I'm good for the day. I've been way too lazy to actually iron anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stuff that happened in December&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Perhaps one notable fact is that I'm&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;a year older&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;The main things I remembered from the night was that my friends were there, it was fun and it was nice seeing everyone, and when I was totally drunk I asked my British friends to say "aluminium" and I'd say "Haha, you guys are funny, it's aluminum. Hey, can you say 'garage'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Actually, December was pretty fun. As many of my friends know, I'm kind of a whacky guy, so for my class I managed to get my hands on a Santa costume as part of the holiday lesson. In addition to using it for teaching I also would wear my Santa get up around town. It was pretty awesome and random.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I'd have&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;little Korean kids coming up to me on the way to the subway saying "Hi Santa!" I actually had my Santa bag with me and I'd give them candy. They'd be all smiley and walk away with their parents. This one time I was waiting for the subway and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;this older Korean lady approached me and asked for directions. I told her I didn't speak Korean. Needless to say, she didn't believe that Santa wasn't Korean.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;also experienced my first Korean Christmas, it was pretty nice in that it was cold and such. It actually snowed a few days after Xmas even though all the forecasters said it would snow on Christmas. Lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it did finally snow, it was wonderful. I was running in it in the jackets my friends and family sent. I made snow angels, slid in the snow, slipped and ate shit, and learned to walk in the trails that people have walked in before. Pretty cool overall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Perfect Spy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I have a very ambiguous face. Those that have known me for longer periods of time have known me to complain about how I don't really look like anything. I have come to accept this and in fact, enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went down to the Vietnamese area in Ansan many Vietnamese people would ask what I was because I looked kind of, sorta not really Korean, but I spoke Vietnamese. I told them I was half Vietnamese and they said "...naw, I don't see it." So I told them I was Chinese and they said, "...Nawwww. You look too Korean for that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I never quite understood is the Asian obsession with the second eyelid/fold thing. In Korean, I think it's something like "Sam ga pyul" or the like. Everyone in my family has it so I just assumed all Asians had it. It wasn't until college that people started telling me "Oh wow, you have really nice eyes. You have eyelids!" I blinked and said, "Well...you have eye lids too. How else do you blink?" My friend would then try to explain it to me and I understand that a little crease does indeed exist. I simply find the obsession a bit humorous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-561848116082349385?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/561848116082349385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=561848116082349385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/561848116082349385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/561848116082349385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2010/01/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-8345387854458554476</id><published>2009-11-25T06:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T08:36:57.114-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ethnicity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='socialization'/><title type='text'>Ethnicity and Socialization from the Media</title><content type='html'>You know I was a sociology major when I title my blog entries like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I'm still wrapping my head around is the fact that Asians are on advertisements. Growing up in the US, the only thing we ever saw was Peyton Manning doing Mastercard commercials and Dwayne Wade doing something with Powerade. The one thing I saw Yao Ming in was that funny commercial where he was trying to ask if he could pay with a check. Suffice to say, these advertisements didn't really make me want to buy or do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize how much ethnicity affected the connection between an advertisement and reception of the message the ad is trying to sell until I settled a bit more over here in Korea. I have many Asian American female friends that would often complain about being too heavy and/or how their mothers would berate them for not being thin enough. I look at them and go, "Yo, I haven't been your weight since I was 13. You're already thin!" They'd simply look at me and say "Dude, you don't get it." I guess I really didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little while ago I was talking to my co teachers at school and for some reason we'd talk about weight and stuff. I think it was because I mentioned how I was trying to lose weight. One of my co teachers responded that back in the day during her high school and early college days her main job was trying to lose weight. Her ideal goal was 45 kg, or roughly 100 lbs. She's 163ish cms, or a bit taller than 5'3. I blinked at her and said, "I haven't been 100 lbs since I was 10!" She continued and said that during those years maintaining the ideal standard of beauty was above all else in her life. Skinny first and then academics and stuff. She talked about how little she'd eat and how she longed for food, but hey, she looked good. The happy part of the story is that she eventually realized it wasn't healthy and started to eat normally again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued our discussion on ads, commercials, and societal pressure on aesthetic values. Another co teacher mentioned how in the media all you see are well dressed thin Korean boys and well dressed Korean girls in heels chasing them. That trickles down to the general appearance of everyone else. I would like to point out that tonight I was out with a few buddies of mine and we were chilling at a Starbucks in Gangnam. We talked about how at work we started off wearing suits and ties and stuff in the beginning but started to slowly dress down. I jokingly said, "Yeah man, sometimes I'd put on my suit just to go to the coffee shop to read a book." A friend said, "Hahaha you're funny man." I then pointed out that everyone around us, except us silly foreigners, were pretty much in suits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, sometimes I feel like I'm succumbing to all the ads and such. The other day I was walking home from work and I thought to myself, "Hmmm, maybe I should get long hair." This is rather shocking in that I absolutely hate long hair on myself. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick Hits -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that the hood of a car is called a "bonnet" in the UK? I guess it's similar in that it's something you'd put over your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coffee shops are absolutely ginourmous in Korea. Restaurants are a little bit on the smaller side because people just go in, eat, and go out and get coffee where they'll chill for hours. When I say ginourmous I mean the small ones are about the size of an average McDonald's, I've encountered one that's bigger than some mall bookstores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students think it's absolutely cute when I speak Korean, even when I say something like "gah bul ji mah" which means stop messing around. They just kinda giggle and say "SAY AGAIN!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was talking to a Cantonese friend of mine and I asked what "mo-ah" meant. The conversation went something like this.&lt;br /&gt;Her: "Nothing."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "But I know it means something!"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, it's nothing."&lt;br /&gt;"But it's in all those movies!"&lt;br /&gt;"It's nothing."&lt;br /&gt;"Then how come Jackie Chan always says it!?!?"&lt;br /&gt;"I mean, the meaning of the word, is nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also speaking with the same friend whom emigrated from HK to Canada so she learned British English. She told us an anecdote about how she asked a male classmate if she could borrow a "rubber". In British English, "rubber" is an eraser. In Canadian and American English, it's ...well you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My East Coast friend and myself got into an argument about the difference between sweatSHIRT and sweater. In his definition a sweatshirt was a thick long sleeved top that kept the wearer warm. A sweater is similar but different in that it is knit and you can see/feel the patterns on it. My stance is that sweater and sweatshirt were essentially the same and that it's sufficient to call both items sweaters. Also I told him that I was right because the West Coast is better the Lakers beat the Magic. We agreed to disagree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find that my writing skills are lacking recently when chatting with my friends the other day. I'm trying to write more to consistently use the skills I acquired while earning the degree that my dad paid so much for. Thanks Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-8345387854458554476?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/8345387854458554476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=8345387854458554476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8345387854458554476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8345387854458554476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/11/ethnicity-and-socialization-from.html' title='Ethnicity and Socialization from the Media'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-6398278346426813791</id><published>2009-11-23T16:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T22:03:50.604-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cultural differences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='america'/><title type='text'>The Cultural Difference Cow</title><content type='html'>Know how there's the awkward turtle? There's also the cultural difference cow. The former comes into play during socially awkward situations and the latter is there in culturally different situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my brief time in Korea, I've come to realize a differences between American/Western and Korean/Eastern cultures. Some are funny, some are more sensitive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was chilling in my office chair all spread out and taking up all sorts of room and my co teacher had to kinda squish between me and the wall a little bit to get to her side (whoops). It was when a gender related cultural difference occurred to me - growing up in America as males, we're taught to take up as much space as possible with our body language. When we cross our legs we have to put ankle to knee to use room, whereas girls are taught to take up as little space as possible. When I just sit and relax I'll automatically sprawl out. Perhaps this is a reflection of America having TONS of space and land and Korea barely having any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like any other male raised in the good ole US of A will tell you, when we get surprised (or scared from a crazy zombie flick) we'll curse up a mutha. In fact, if we haven't seen a good friend in awhile we'll probably also curse up a mutha calling our friends all sorts of mean things that are perfectly acceptable because both are good friends. In Korea and at least with girls, in surprise they'll say "Oh-ma!" which literally translates to mother. I have no idea why they say mother when they're surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expression of feelings it something else that I've noticed that is different. In America, whenever we ask "How are you?" The correct answer is always "Good" or something similar to that. Over here though, despite the stereotype that Koreans are more stoic than most, they seem to be much more expressive when asked personal questions like that. When I ask my students "Hey, how are you?" They'll always say how they feel - sad about a test, mad at classmates, happy about other things. In fact, I think one day I was asked, "Mr. Thai, how come you're always 'good'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The male students are really touchy feely with each other. For instance, one student will sit on another student's lap. The one on top will then tell me, "Teacher, he's gay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students don't seem to understand Asians not from Korea. I know I've said it before but I just want to say it again.I think their logic is, "Hey, he looks like us. Eats like us. Black hair, brown eyes like us. Has glasses like us. Duh, he's Korean!" When I tell them I'm not Korean, they remark, "Wait, are you adopted?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I didn't really prepare myself for were my students' misconceptions of America as a whole. Everything I knew about Korea was from what my friends told me and what I saw in movies and dramas. Some of it was true, some of it was not. What I do realize is that America, if you've never really opened up a book, is full of violence and sex if you just watch tv and the movies. The other day one female student asked me if I had a gun. I asked my co teacher about this and she told me how they watch too much tv and stuff. Then I realize, in some movies, for no apparent reason, everyone just seems to have guns and are trained in utilizing them to their full potential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other random things -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you speak English on the subway, people will STARE at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When called, instead of saying "What" or "huh?" here they say "why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first got here, I did a lot more bowing. Now I just do a lot more long head nods because I'm lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students call me evil because how I laugh at their pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-6398278346426813791?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/6398278346426813791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=6398278346426813791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6398278346426813791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6398278346426813791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/11/cultural-difference-cow.html' title='The Cultural Difference Cow'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-4527391083611063871</id><published>2009-11-12T06:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T07:19:16.802-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><title type='text'>Goal Setting</title><content type='html'>I read a FB status of a colleague of mine about goals that got me thinking. A long time ago in military school we had something we did every two weeks called "goal setting". In this period we'd set our goals, as cadets, to achieve certain objectives within the next week perhaps earning certain awards and doing well in tests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In different stages of our lives we seem to have different goals in place in order to progress, or grow up, in life. In high school we strive for high marks in classes, participate in extracurricular activities, and do community service in an effort to gain admission to a good university. Why do we do these things? Well, as my parents and perhaps society has taught me, in order to live a full and meaningful life, I must go to a good college in order to get a good job that pays well so I can be a baller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leading up to university that was my thought process, as it also was those before me and many students before them. Yet when I entered my college years and progress through my first few classes, I started to wonder what was it that I really wanted. From a personal stand point, I had everything I could ever want. A nice home, a car, lots of good food, but something was missing. I couldn't quite...put a finger on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The goal until that point in my life has simply been to make that paper and own material displays of achievement to show that hey, I made it. But what exactly was that? I changed my major a few times, floated awhile perhaps lost. Grades weren't too good. I was very apathetic toward school. I didn't really know what I wanted. There was no goal that I was working toward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toward the latter part of my college career I was fortunate enough to meet some amazing people, including an awesome best friend, that has helped me find a way a little bit and helped me realize a few things about life and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why I'm in Korea was because an opportunity to teach abroad came up around my senior year and I sought advice from my best friend about it. Without hesitation he told me to do it. He told me to explore and experience and not to come back until I had learned enough to write an epic book about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also realized that although I can find motivation and inspiration from others, it is ultimately up to me to set my own goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Save money, not just to save money, but for post baccalaureate education and personal effects.&lt;br /&gt;2. Lose weight&lt;br /&gt;3. Learn Korean and experience as much as possible&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-4527391083611063871?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/4527391083611063871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=4527391083611063871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4527391083611063871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4527391083611063871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/11/goal-setting.html' title='Goal Setting'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-7744760403320069234</id><published>2009-10-06T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T08:34:45.940-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korean'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teacher'/><title type='text'>Realities of Being a Teacher</title><content type='html'>It goes without saying but I still have to say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School in Korea is different than school back home in the states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pressure on the students is huge. They would go to academy after academy after school until the wee hours of the night. Sometimes I'd be coming home from shopping around 10pm and I'd see kids with books looking all tired running to catch the subway. Sometimes, the pressure is too much. Awhile ago, my main co teacher and I had a discussion on adolescence and their feelings. She brought up depression and how it affected students' performance. I remarked that, at this age, kids hate everything and because they have so much pressure in Korea, they hate everything even more. She told me how she talked to the student as much as possible and even referred him to the school psychologist because it was out of our expertise as teachers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week or so ago, my co teacher told me one of her students committed suicide. I think it was the same student that was depressed but I didn't want to ask. I know of the pressures that Asian kids face, that in Japan it's huge and that the suicide rates are so high, but I never realized it would hit so close to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first started teaching, I thought I was some sort of novelty simply because the students haven't been exposed to many native English speakers before and that the novelty would wear off. Maybe it will, maybe it won't but what I found interesting is when students talk to me outside of class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Students always talk to me outside of class but there were two occasions when I was walking to school that stuck with me. I was walking and one of my students recognized me so he ran up to me and started talking. I asked him the basic stuff, how he was doing, what he did yesterday, etc. What I didn't expect was what he said next. He told me about how the day before he was talking to a friend of his from another school. She was very depressed and actually was talking about suicide. I was a little worried so I asked him what he did about it and he said he pretty much talked to her on the phone for hours. A few days later I saw him again while walking to school and we talked about it and we discussed how he was helpful was his friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later his main English teacher told me how those two conversations meant the world to him, simply because he could use what he was taught and communicate with me. He told the teacher he was so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, the saying goes that you don't really know your affect on others but it really hit me when she told me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people say that some people are born with the ability to do something. Other people say that people work to acquire the ability to do something. I used to be part of the latter group but as I get older a part of me is drifting toward the former. Growing up, and as banal as this sounds, people would tell me that I would be a good teacher. I told them "Naw, I don't have patience for kids." We'd laugh about how I'd probably beat up the kids (I actually whack them with a toy hammer, that's a story for later). I've had quite a few jobs since my senior year of high school, everything from working at Disneyland to retail and foods. The dirtiest I've felt after work was when I was working at a sales-type of environment where I pretty much sold lies to customers. It was from the job that I realized that I was just making money for the man on top of me, and he was making money for the man on top of him and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's amazing to me is that, after a long day of work, after not sleeping because I spent way too much time online the night before, after dealing with problem children and students that were too cool for school, when I come home I feel... fulfilled. I feel that I did something good in the world. I could be almost falling asleep at work before class but when the bell rings I'm in full gear. There's just something about teaching, about being in front of the class that is so intoxicating and exhilarating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-7744760403320069234?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/7744760403320069234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=7744760403320069234' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7744760403320069234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7744760403320069234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/10/realities-of-being-teacher.html' title='Realities of Being a Teacher'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-1309017345708942033</id><published>2009-10-03T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T13:29:11.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>quick funny thing</title><content type='html'>two aim conversations that have cheered me up recently (paraphrased)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl: I black guys&lt;br /&gt;girl: I like you anthony&lt;br /&gt;girl: you must be black or at least, half black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl: I met this random muscular asian guy at a bar in fullerton&lt;br /&gt;girl: he reminded me of you, he was all talkative and stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why...but these small conversations mean the world to me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-1309017345708942033?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/1309017345708942033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=1309017345708942033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1309017345708942033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1309017345708942033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/10/quick-funny-thing.html' title='quick funny thing'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-7460565142006583387</id><published>2009-09-30T16:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T16:46:48.048-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='asian'/><title type='text'>Thoughts from Asia</title><content type='html'>In my thus far brief time in Korea I've realized many things about the Asian culture in the United States versus the culture over here. I will say that although I've only been around native Koreans, I've seen very many similarities amongst the cultures that have had much Chinese, Confucian, influence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The men in Korea, I should say married men, have total freedom it seems. They stay out late and drink with friends and co workers, they have fun and leave the child rearing to the wife at home. Dads would get home late at night, say hi to the kids and go to bed. Sound familiar? I always wondered why my own father did it and it seems is simply part of the culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always been very critical of the Asian propensity for loving anything brand name. Everything has to have a brand name, everything has to be good. I've thought about why and I wonder why can't we just like normal, functional stuff. Then I came to Korea. There are A LOT of merchandise, clothes, watches, shoes, anything to buy. Because there is such a vast quantity of goods there are also a high volume of lower end merchandise that won't last long. I bought some shoes from a no name store earlier today only to return them five minutes later when I found better name brand shoes for a little bit more money but a lot better quality. Brand name simply means that it has a much, much higher chance of being of good quality rather than taking a stab at some random shop somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicks also love designer brands here so guys have to keep up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that bothered me was how Asian people gossip like CRAaaaaaaazzzzzzzzzyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. I hated telling anything to any one of my family members because soon enough family who I've never met will know all the little intricate details of my life. At work people also talk. Many of the teachers at my school that I work with know a lot about me, where's I'm from, what I like, things I eat, how I'm single and how everyone wants to set me up. It seems as though the work place is more like a family than a business, as far as teachers are concerned and what we see as gossip they simply see as information to be freely distributed amongst family members. For some reason it doesn't bother me as much as my own family doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also the sharing information thing also is to keep kids in line. One of my teacher friends at the school, a male teacher, found out about how one of his kids started smoking from one of his teacher friends at another school. You already know what happened to the son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I would go anywhere to buy anything with my parents from a non mainstream place, like the mall, they would haggle like crazy. As a kid, I wondered why they would talk so much and only get like two bucks off the sticker price. Now I realize that over here you're able to get massive crazy discounts if you can work it and if you're not a foreigner. I always get better deals when I'm with a Korean friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating out has to be the Asian national past time. It seems as though people rarely eat at home because things are just so cheap around here. Many places offer a full meal for about five bucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-7460565142006583387?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/7460565142006583387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=7460565142006583387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7460565142006583387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7460565142006583387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/09/thoughts-from-asia.html' title='Thoughts from Asia'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-8261238790471235064</id><published>2009-09-27T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T22:00:34.047-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>Korea-isms</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Korea is like Disneyland -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really crowded around Seoul. And the rail way system, to me, feels a lot like the mono rail system at Disney for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are "lands" to go to for the things you need or want. If you want to party you go to Hongdae, if you want to shop you go to Myoungdong or Dongdaemun, if you want foreigners you can go to Itaewon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also often times, there are a lot of things to take pictures of. Just like Disneyland!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Korea is a big game of hide and seek -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;When I'm waiting for people or chilling on the subway.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I like to play "Local or Foreigner?" I like to look around at the crowd and see if there are other Asians that aren't native Korean but are foreigners. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I don't. Heck, there are some of my Korean American friends who totally blend in some times when they dress like the locals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Korea  is like the Drew Carey Show -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People will randomly break out in coordinated dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone here knows every dance move to every popular Korean song. Sometimes before or after class I'll put on some youtube music vids of some songs, like Wonder Girls or Girls Generation, and AUTOMATICALLY many of my students will bust out in the dance steps of the music video...step for step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the other day I was shopping in Dongdaemun and I randomly came across this stage where the host were simply calling up random people from the crowd to come up and dance to these songs, like that one G Dragon song, and they'd come up and dance PERFECTLY to the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Korea is a learning experience -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned to look over my shoulder to change lanes...while walking. No joke. There often would be times where I'd just kinda drift over to get around people and people would bump into me and give me the stare of death. Or vice versa. Actually, old Korean ladies push me out of the way to get somewhere all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Korea will set you up -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're not allowed to be single in Korea. Generally the first thing locals ask one another when they get acquainted is "Where are you from?" The next thing is "Do you have a girlfriend?" The follow up would usually be something like, "You need to find yourself a Korean girlfriend." or "I'll find you a nice Korean girl, she'll be pretty!" Heck, even my friends back home are telling me to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, couples in Korea are quite funny. They have this Konglish term, "couple tees", in which both couples would wear the same outfit. Now I understand how couples match and all but over here they take it to another level with same outfits. It's like same pink polos (for guy and girl) jeans, matching chucks, the works.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-8261238790471235064?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/8261238790471235064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=8261238790471235064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8261238790471235064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8261238790471235064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/09/korea-isms.html' title='Korea-isms'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-1749101627423879381</id><published>2009-09-16T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T10:16:23.788-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>Finding comfort in the familiar</title><content type='html'>Being displaced from the familiar, I feel, results in feelings of excitement, nervousness, astonishment, and maybe a little bit of anxiety and insecurity thrown in there for good measure. It's not unlike that of a child, where everyday feels brand new for him because he's so young. That's why children watching the same thing over and over again and that's why they make you read the same story over and over again,  it's to comfort them. Since everything is always so new, they need to seek comfort in the familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also find myself trying to find things that put me at ease. To try to find that familiarity in such a different culture and area. Even though the Vietnamese food here isn't that good, sometimes I just indulge into that nostalgic craving. The other thing that brings me back is the simple act of going to the gym. Such a simple thing but it helps put me in an area where I'm very familiar and comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remarking off of what a colleague said her in her blog, every time I see someone who I don't is Korean I want to just run up and greet him or her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stuff that I've been doing -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my main co teacher and another co teacher went to Daebang Middle School near Daerim for a class observation thing. I thought it was pretty cool. I'm always down for things where I can learn a bit more. We saw how a Korean English Teacher conducted class and then we had a little discussion of it afterward. I saw my homie Matt from orientation there, he actually teaches at that school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work a fellow anteater invited me over to her area to work on our lesson plans. Unfortunately I was unable to find her due to miscommunication. Instead, I did some shopping and got some food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back, in the subway near home, I noticed this random Caucasian girl near me. I looked up and simply asked, "Excuse me, are you from SMOE?"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; just to make some conversation. Turns out she was but she had already been here for a year.  We discussed our positions, how she likes teaching high school and how I feel about middle school. We exchanged contact info, turns out she lives in Guro Digital Complex, which is about four stops away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also have been trying to reconnect with friends from the states that are in Korea for one reason or another. I managed to hang out with Esther the other night, I met her in Writing 39B my freshman year. I think I'm going to hang out with some APHIO people in Gangnam on Friday. They were Korean international students studying at UCI. Also, there is a girl, also an international student, that was a part of my APO family whom I never met that I contacted. I sent her an e-mail and I might meet up with her soon. Oh, and last but not least, one of my spoppers goes to a university here. Hopefully I can hang out with her too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Random experiment of the day -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to the pho place I left some tip. As I went up to the cashier to pay, the waiter brought me the money back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Social Observation of the day&lt;/span&gt; -&lt;br /&gt;I notice sales people treat me differently depending upon my dress when I go shopping. Sometimes I'll go right after work so I'll look all fancy schmancy. Sometimes I'll wear some flip flops and shorts. The days wear I'm all dressed up I have to beat them away with a stick; the days where I'm just casual I can't get any attention. However, I think this is something that happens everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things that cross my mind - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember this lady would always come into Guppys at night on either Mondays or Tuesday, almost every week. She'd come with her friends. She was a little bit older and it was pretty obvious she wasn't married. I remember her trying to say hi to me one day when I came in to pick up my schedule but I was in a hurry and it didn't register until later. I remember overhearing that she has/had a boyfriend or something when she was talking to her friends. Yet, every so often when I'd look at her direction I'd catch her looking at me and she'd quickly turn away. I mean, the food at Guppys isn't THAT good. I wonder if she realizes that I'm gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how my family is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how Chewie is. I miss that little fuzzy guy. To be honest, I almost cried the other day when I saw a dog that resembled him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how my best friend and his family is doing. On that note, I wonder how all my friends are doing. There are a lot of people I wanted to be wasn't able t properly say good bye to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope my brother remembered to pick up my last paycheck from Guppys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to eat about the same amount now that I did back at home but I'm losing a lot more weight now. My best friend and I discussed how, because of the excess of corn in American farms, there are corn by-products everywhere. You can find it in anything from soda to beef. Ground beef, actually, is mostly corn and stuff, not meat. That's why it's so cheap. Maybe that's the difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-1749101627423879381?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/1749101627423879381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=1749101627423879381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1749101627423879381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1749101627423879381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/09/finding-comfort-in-familiar.html' title='Finding comfort in the familiar'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-3454785872649398330</id><published>2009-09-13T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T09:11:27.870-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exploring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>The First Week and Half of Work</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;I don't think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;anything couldn't really prepared me for my first day. Sure I have a piece of paper that says I'm certified to teach English as a foreign language. Sure I've taught before. But that first class where the students looked at me and where I just looked back at them...that was something that nothing could really prepare me for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, people have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;told&lt;/span&gt; me about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; it but I feel that unless you actually experience it for yourself, you can't really describe it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I was, to borrow a term from norcal homies, HELLLLLLLLLAA nervous. My first period co teacher asked me. "Have you taught before? You seemed okay." I told her, "I was really nervous but I couldn't show the kids." So many things didn't go according to plan but I just had to play it off like it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I progressively gained a bit more confidence with each passing class period and day. Toward the end of the week I felt pretty good from a teaching stand point and I realized, for me at least, the best way for me to teach is to yell. It helps me slow down my speech and get the point across. I think I got it half from a certain AP US History teacher in high school, and half from being in military school in 8th grade. And maybe a little bit from R. Lee Ermy from Full Metal Jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students' reading ability is actually pretty good. I don't know whether they understand it or not but they can read it aloud. Speaking ranges from below average to actually pretty good. Listening is pretty good too. Writing, however, is below average to average in most of the students. It's something I should work on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night, my friends and I went to Myoungdong for some dinner. Went shopping for a bit after the food. I tried to get a cell phone but it was such a hassle. I didn't get the cell phone until Saturday and it didn't work until Monday. Such a hassle. It started raining later in the evening so we quickly made our way home. Rain in Korea is supposedly acid rain. Not like in the movies or anything but it's not that clean so it's best not to be in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, a bunch of homies and I hit up Gangnam. First we went to an apartment to meet up and then made our way to Club Eden, a house music club. It was the most expensive cover I've paid - 30,000 won. Now, the exchange rate is roughly 1200 won to a dollar but I just equate 1000 = 1 dollar just to make things easier. The club started off slow but became pretty exciting. Now, I absolutely hate clubbing but the past few times that I've been out here in Korea has been really, really fun. This time a bunch of us foreigners made our way up to the front of the club and danced all night in front of the DJ steps. It was crazzzzzzzzzy. Afterward, a couple of us hit up Itawon, the "foreigner" district. We had some fun there and got lost. While lost, we went down some alleyways. I noticed some cute girls wearing bikinis in small shops. They made the motion for us to come...then we realized we weren't in the right part of town and high tailed it outta there. Oh, on the way out of there we also got our first look of transgendered men....woman? Anyhow we quickly made our way back to the main area of Itawon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I have to say, it was a pretty crazy night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that are more expensive than soju here -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Water, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;any juice, food, snacks. Actually, almost everything is more expensive than soju here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that I have noticed here -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've yet to come across any sort of big dog. I've seen a few medium sized ones here and there but for the most part it's all been really small toy poodle dogs. Actually, even Chewie would be a bit bigger than the average dog over here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clothes ARE cheap...for girls. I've seen a few sales here and there for guy but for the most part the good stuff is a bit more expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the states, we walk on the right, drive on the right, and all that good stuff. Over here, they drive to the right...but walk to the left. Like for instance, we walking pass people on the left when we walk toward someone, not the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traffic signals are merely a suggestion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my glasses, I blend in. I kinda feel like a spy. Without it, I look a lot less Korean apparently. In fact today while in the elevator going to the gym, this little 2 year old Korean girl just stared at me. So I waved at her. I remember this one chick once telling me that I look more Chinese and evil without my glasses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Korea does not believe in paper towels. You don't find any in public bathrooms. On that note, you generally find soap on a stick, not the liquid or soapy kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Korea also does not believe in having actual showers. I have a bathroom, standard toilet and sink...and the shower head is attached to the sink!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Korean girls wear heels everywhere. It's just amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, people still recognize me at the randomest places. I was at this random ass bookstore in Gangnam. This dude comes up to me and asks "Hey, did you go to UCI?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're single in Korea, people will set you up. Case closed. My hyun neem, one of the PE teachers, asked me what kind of girls I liked today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude, people will stare at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when I'm with a group of non-Asian foreigners, locals always look at me and speak to me in Korean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students don't understand non-Korean Asians for some reason. They try to speak to me in Korean...and I just kinda look at them. And they go "wait, but..you LOOK Korean...why don't you speak Korean, Mr. Thai?" "uhhh I'm not Korean kids." "Oh wait, are you adopted?" "No kids, I'm not Korean."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned not to hug people in public and not to ask what university that person is from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Korean culture, they say that a good indicator of character is one's choosiness over food. If one is less choosy, that person is considered to be of good character. At least, that's what my co teacher told me after I devoured plate after plate of Korean food. Well, since I've been here almost everyone has asked me if I like Korean food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've walked more in my first three weeks of Korea than probably all of summer ...and maybe spring too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-3454785872649398330?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/3454785872649398330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=3454785872649398330' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3454785872649398330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3454785872649398330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-week-and-half-of-work.html' title='The First Week and Half of Work'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-1432918080375926805</id><published>2009-08-30T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T00:25:40.980-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seoul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>Orientation + First Week</title><content type='html'>For the most part, orientation was more or less your average high school welcoming speech but drawn out over a better course of a week with not too much excitement. I spent my time trying to meet as many people as possible to try to have a sort of a support network over here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of notable things did happen at my time at orientation though. The first being that a couple of my buddies and I befriended a local undergrad at the university by the name of Shin. Actually, it seemed as if he was the ONLY student that actually wanted to talk to us. His English is actually pretty good and he gave us a tour of the super high tech library that they have. For my Irvine homies, it puts the Science Library to shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orientation ended on Saturday with a lunch buffet of sorts. It was actually really good but we didn't have time to eat it since we had to get on the bus to our respective areas. There we met our co-teachers and their families. My co teacher is really nice! She brought her husband to help lug around my luggage and stuff. I was shown my apartment which, I think, is called an "office-tel" or something of the sort. It's rather tiny. It's sooo different than what I'm used to at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have mentioned this before but Korea has this massive widespread fear of swine flu. Ever since we got here we were tested, retested, and then tested again. Rumor had it that the reason our tour to Seoul was canceled was because one of us tested with a fever. And actually, some of us, myself included, are not allowed to work just yet just to be sure we're okay. Actually, one of the first thing my co-teacher asked me was what Americans think of H1N1 and I simply told them the facts that I've read on the papers, that the reason why it's so deadly is because no one has an immunity to it and in fact when it was winter in the southern hemisphere is like the normal flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First week&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first regular week outside orientation was rather crazy trying to settle in and everything. After my teacher left me at my place, I spent a few hours trying to acquaint myself with my new living quarters, spent a few hours exploring my immediate vicinity, and then met up with some friends in Hongdae at the Hongik University station exit. Needless to say, I got really lost but managed to get myself there. We ate this really good chicken stew type of thing then met up with some other SMOE, did the usual thing, did some singing room stuff, and then we went back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I did some more exploring and got things taken care of, like my Alien Registration card, going to SMOE Head Office and taking care of things there, I actually had to go twice because I forgot my TEFL Certificate the first time around. Once I got my medical clearance, I was THEN allowed to go to school and meet the teachers, get shown to my desk, and all that. On my first day there I was given a tour and I met most of the teachers, many of which I hardly see now that I sit in my office or classroom all day. Friday was when it finally hit me that I'm WORKING and not simply on holiday (I've met a lot of British people since I came here, some words have rubbed off on me). I spent most of the day lesson planning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night was a night of uninhibited crazy fun on Hongdae again. Saturday I signed up for a gym near my place and went out again at night. Sunday was some good wholesome fun in Gangnam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-1432918080375926805?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/1432918080375926805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=1432918080375926805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1432918080375926805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1432918080375926805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/08/orientation-first-week.html' title='Orientation + First Week'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5855735422601272794</id><published>2009-08-23T01:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T15:49:33.691-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='orientation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smoe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>SMOE Arrival at SSK University in Suwon</title><content type='html'>So SMOE finally picked us up around 10:30 and we arrive at our new home for a week a little while later. I really wanted to shower but decided to post pone it because lunch ended in half an hour and all of us who got to the airport early were starving. We had some meat loaf thing, some soup noodle thing, some potato salad thing, rice, and KIMCHI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we hung out for a bit, I met my room mate, took care of some stuff, and then most of us went on bus to check out Hwaseong Fortress. We went on a little tour and it was okay, it felt like a little family vacation that the parents wanted us to go on. Everyone back home said that it was going to be HOT and HUMID and boy, were they right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get back from our little tour, get some dinner, I head up stairs intending to take a nap, next thing I know, it's 5am. Whoops. But man, that little nap was real good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday was when we start the madness. We had our opening ceremony and our first few orientating classes. Also this entire time, I was able to meet some pretty cool people from everywhere, such as all over the US, New Zealand, The UK, and a few here from Australia. I have to admit, though, it kinda feels like high school all over again just by the sheer amount of people here and how we all congregate into our little groups during meal times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was class all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick Hits -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no drying machines here, we have to dry our clothes the old school way. Years of being an American have left me wanting instantly dry clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made friends with the security guard that we pass on the way to lunch. He doesn't speak a much English and I don't speak much Korean but we manage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For  some reason, maybe only at this university, the left elevator is for odd numbered floors, the right one is for even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Internet is super fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are shy but nice over here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The humidity is killing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, almost everything I've seen is very IKEAish, most everything is very bright and clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5855735422601272794?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5855735422601272794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5855735422601272794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5855735422601272794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5855735422601272794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/08/smoe-arrival-at-ssk-university-in-suwon.html' title='SMOE Arrival at SSK University in Suwon'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5643144081016167044</id><published>2009-08-22T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T15:30:54.629-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='arrival'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>Small fish in the big sea</title><content type='html'>I'm in Korea! This is my first time out of the states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick hits -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have  a coffee bean here. I tried to order, but she looked confused, so I just walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting off the plane, we were ushered like cattle to this checkpoint where we handed off these information cards describing if we had any medical condition and they used this tricorder type thing on us. We passed and now we're chilling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The airplane trip was 12 hours. Bad - cramped seats, I have wide shoulders so it was kinda awkward doing the elbow thing on the arm rest with the two people to me, soo hot so couldn't sleep too much. Good - had The International, the food was one of the better airline foods I've had, service was pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myself and other SMOE people from two flights set up base camp at Terminal F  or something at Incheon, we're currently waiting for the buses to take us to our orientation center, which apparently was moved from the Hyundai Learning Center to....some college campus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I need to do -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find a bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do the immigration thingy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find a gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5643144081016167044?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5643144081016167044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5643144081016167044' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5643144081016167044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5643144081016167044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/08/small-fish-in-big-sea.html' title='Small fish in the big sea'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-7269068333491301871</id><published>2009-08-21T03:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T03:59:59.578-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='korea'/><title type='text'>Two pieces and a carry on</title><content type='html'>It's interesting trying to fit my life into, more or less, three pieces of luggage. I've procrastinated on it long enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This entire last week has been so busy. So many people have called me left and right wishing me safe travels and all that good stuff, people have also been so amazing in taking me out for food and drinks. In fact, I know I've gained a few pounds because of it and lack of time for the gym. It's the last time for awhile that I'll be able to do it, so why not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's very endearing to me to see people take time out of their lives to just come out to see me. My friends and families have went out into the late hours of the night just to hang out, even when they have work the next morning, in fact, my fraternity little bro lied to get out of work just to hang out. I read a quote once that stated, more or less, that the most expensive thing anyone can ever give another person is time, because time can never be bought. Next to that is my friends paying for my expensive dinners at all these random places like Benihanas and Ra Sushi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is just so bittersweet. I'm finally talking to my mom and dad a little bit more because I know and they know that I'll be leaving soon so we have to. It's so sad to say goodbye to everyone, hugging everyone for the last time in a long while, wondering when the next time I will see them will be. I have to admit, I'm a little bit awkward with goodbyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to miss everyone and everything and I'm excited for everything at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I think the thing is, everything won't hit me until I step into my home away from home and my dog Chewie will not be there to run up to the door and greet me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-7269068333491301871?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/7269068333491301871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=7269068333491301871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7269068333491301871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7269068333491301871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-pieces-and-carry-on.html' title='Two pieces and a carry on'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-2995904857060711109</id><published>2009-08-16T02:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T03:49:33.163-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='respect'/><title type='text'>Trust and Respect</title><content type='html'>Respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a word thrown out here and there all the time. In a way, it's almost trite now. I know way too many people who throw out the word respect but do not practice it themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know too many people who say, "I don't give respect, you have to earn it." But dang, what does that solve. If everyone in the world thought like that, how will we ever acheive anything in the world. If no one is willing to give, how can anyone ever receive? In that stead, I ask, how can anyone have respect, be respected, unless they are able to respect others. Every single person in the world who I respect, who I love more than anything,  has shown me respect first and foremost. My best friend, my father, my mother, every single person has shown love, trust, and respect and I them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, again, I ask, how can anyone be respected, if they cannot respect others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just now, a few hours ago, I threw a going away party for myself. It was very, very last minute and in all honesty, I didn't want to throw one, not one bit. There's way too much work, way too much cleaning, way too much hosting. But alas, my brother and some homies asked me to throw one, so I did. I figured I would be able to see all my friends for one last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead, the people who came for me I could count on two hands. My homies who begged me to throw a party didn't even bother to show up instead it was other random people who I didn't know, friends of friends of friends of my brother. Now, I am very, very appreciative of my homies who did show up, some homies that I haven't seen for years, but still showed, but part of me thought that other people who say they would, would show up, but they never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of me is glad that no one came. My brother's friends started some stuff outside and I had to play the good host and keep everyone inside until everything calmed down. My friend had to call the police on my own party. I'm going to write that again, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;we had to call the police on my own party&lt;/span&gt;. I'm very aware that my parties have a reputation, heck, that I have a reputation for these sorts of things but I simply hoped that things would be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, it's simple, come to party, have free drinks, talk to people, have fun, go home. But...why can't people adhere to that? Why can't people respect the host of the party, the house of the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my brother and my homies asked me to through the party, I in turn asked my parents, asked them relentlessly to have a party, they relented and I rewarded them with a big party that the cops had to be called in on. Some son I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, I'm conflicted, very much so. I feel hated and loved at the same time. When I told my family and my close friends that I was leaving soon they took me out, they spent as much time with me as possible. My father and mother, who I barely spoke to through college, took me out so they could spend time with me. My mom took me shopping and my dad had those father/ son talks with me. My best friend spends as much time with me as he could, my brother hangs out with me as much as he can, so does my other brother. I try to soak in as much time as I can with Chewie as possible. Yet at the same time, I'm sad, I'm sad that people who assured me that they would come see me didn't, people who assured me that things wouldn't go down but they did, people who said they would take care of me didn't, I'm sad that when things got out of hand, my own brother was too wasted to do anything about it so I had to take care of everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly think there's something wrong with me. I try so hard. But in turn, I get nothing. But the fact remains that I can't feel sorry for myself because that's not going to accomplish anything, I just have to go out and change it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. Things have been the same for me for far too long, something's gotta give. If something truly is wrong with me, I have to find out what that is and fix it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-2995904857060711109?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/2995904857060711109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=2995904857060711109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2995904857060711109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2995904857060711109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/08/trust-and-respect.html' title='Trust and Respect'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-3438600696477102972</id><published>2009-07-20T01:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T03:11:11.242-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='others'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Loving Your Neighbor</title><content type='html'>I have really weird, random, quirky thoughts oftentimes. One of my thoughts the other day was simply... why is there hate? What purpose does it serve really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we all were to adhere to the Golden Rule of treating others how you want to be treated and the commandment of love thy neighbor, why is there so much hate in the world? Why is there so much selfishness, so much prejudice, and so much anger. Why are we so quick to judge others when we do not wish to be so quickly judge ourselves? We've all been guilty of it and for some reason, we always seem to think we're better in some convoluted line of reasoning. If we are supposed love our neighbors then there would be no reason for all these divisions that we have amongst ourselves as people and yet we all subdivide ourselves within these racial, religious, and social lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However I do recognize that without hate, without fear, without sadness, that there cannot be love, hope, and happiness. It is as if one cannot exist without the other. There always has to be that balance and with that there cannot be recognition of the highs without knowing the lows. The happiest people I know are the ones who have been through so much in their lives, and perhaps because so, they appreciate everything that they do have and always have a smile on their face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We learn to love from our parents. I think that perhaps that we can afford to love each other a little bit more. Maybe that will  make the world that bit better of a place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-3438600696477102972?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/3438600696477102972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=3438600696477102972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3438600696477102972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3438600696477102972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/07/loving-your-neighbor.html' title='Loving Your Neighbor'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-6269207225544355608</id><published>2009-07-14T00:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T02:09:51.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Talks With Dad</title><content type='html'>As I get older, it seems as though these random talks with my dad become more and more intense about my future. Today he recommended me becoming a broker of some sort. I do find it kinda funny how my Vietnamese mom pushed me toward the medical fields whereas my Chinese father pushes me more toward business however I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He brought up the point of working &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;for&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;someone&lt;/span&gt; versus having others work &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;for you&lt;/span&gt;. His point was simple, when you work for someone, you make that person money, whereas when you work for yourself or have others work for you, you will be making the money. However, I can't seem to think that in essence you're damned if you do and you're damned if you don't. If you're working for someone, you're working for the man. If you're the one being worked for, you're exploiting others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More on this later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-6269207225544355608?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/6269207225544355608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=6269207225544355608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6269207225544355608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/6269207225544355608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/07/more-talks-with-dad.html' title='More Talks With Dad'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-2267783914695402217</id><published>2009-06-07T01:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T03:23:28.765-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='responsibility'/><title type='text'>Responsibility</title><content type='html'>The old saying goes that "You can't pour from an empty pitcher." Meaning that you cannot take care of others unless you can take care of yourself first. If you're unable to help yourself, how is it that you're able to take care of others problems?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, as always, there may be exceptions to the rule. We recently got a dog at home. My brothers and I have always wanted a dog and here we finally have one. I have two brothers, both younger, one 20 and one 15. My youngest brother isn't what you would call social, in fact, he stays inside often. Ever since we got Chewie, our dog, he's been happier and more responsible. Heck, I've been more responsible by waking up earlier to walk him and stuff. Before my brother only have to take care of himself but now he has to take care of a living, breathing being. He has to make sure he's taken care of, well fed, all that good stuff. I think he spent a few nights researching things about dogs because he'd tell me these things that are good and bad for the dog. Tell me that's not responsibility. In the short time that we've had the dog, I've seen my brother grow up just a little bit and be a little bit happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend told me that once he had his son, his life changed, and for the better. My parents always say that we'll understand when we have kids, that it all changes and everything you do is based upon your child or children. Now I'm not saying having a dog is as close to a big responsibility as it is having a child, however, I will note that perhaps we can start small at a young age, to be able to learn how it is to be responsible to not only another, but to ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-2267783914695402217?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/2267783914695402217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=2267783914695402217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2267783914695402217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2267783914695402217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/06/responsibility.html' title='Responsibility'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5704621789924988374</id><published>2009-05-04T00:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T00:59:26.545-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><title type='text'>It's funny how things change</title><content type='html'>Back in high school, my plan after high school was to go into the military somehow and then find my way into becoming a teacher. About my junior year or so my plan was this - Naval Academy, serve for a few years, get out, become a teacher. During my senior year, I actually applied to Annapolis and I was actually nominated by my Congressman to the academy but I was unable to go because of certain medical disabilities. I then "settled" for UCI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the reason for what I wanted to do was because of my 8th grade science teacher in, wait for it, military school. He was a retired Navy Commander and he was very inspirational to myself personally and to the class as a whole. To me, he was very much like Professor Chuck O'Connell at UCI. He was loud, unafraid to challenge norms, engaging, and pretty much everything else you see in the movies. He saw the world and always had a life lesson or two for the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always thought to myself that this is what I wanted to do when I got older. I wanted to inspire others because I was so inspired by those around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My medical disqualification from the military, I feel, was a silver lining because it allowed me to meet some of the greatest, most wonderful individuals that I have had the pleasure of meeting during my time at UCI. I've gotten to experience so much and do so much. They say that you get as much out of something as you put in it and I feel that I've gotten so much out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to now, going to graduate in a few weeks with all these memories that I've made these past years. I passed my interview for SMOE to teach English in Seoul, Korea so now all I have to do is graduate and get my final paperwork done then I'm off. Part of me wants to just travel the world and experience as much as I can before I come home and part of me wants to be in that little comfort zone of home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's anything I've learned in my time in college is that by being in that little comfort zone, you're unable to truly experience what the world truly has to offer. It's comfortable because it's familiar and everything outside of that is uncomfortable because it's not familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to get out there and do something amazing. I felt that way in high school and I feel that now. When I have kids I want to have all these stories for my children and my grand children. Although it's been years upon years since high school and perhaps I've changed a bit here and there,  it doesn't seem like I've changed at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5704621789924988374?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5704621789924988374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5704621789924988374' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5704621789924988374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5704621789924988374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-funny-how-things-change.html' title='It&apos;s funny how things change'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-8267997260524916218</id><published>2009-04-21T01:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T02:24:24.492-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fatherhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><title type='text'>Talking with my Dad</title><content type='html'>Awhile ago I had one of those longer father/son-type of talks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It revolved around life and all that good stuff, normal dad stuff asking what I wanted to do when I graduated, if it made money, stuff like that. He talked about how I needed money in order to have a family and to provide for them, to buy a nice house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it made sense, how could it not? It was cold hard logic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then asked him, "Well dad, how do you make time for the kids?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't quite understand what I was getting at. So I elaborated a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him, "Dad, we, as a family, have almost everything we could ever ask for, a nice house, you're paying for my college education and my brothers', I have a car, my brother has a car, mom has a car, you have lots of cars for work and stuff, you take care of the insurance..." this and that, so on and so forth. Then I asked him, "For everything you've given us, you've never been to any of my football games or my brother's for instance, you missed both our high school graduations, we haven't had dinner with you in almost four years, so for everything money can buy, how can it buy time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The didn't say anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then added, "But I still love you dad, for everything."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-8267997260524916218?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/8267997260524916218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=8267997260524916218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8267997260524916218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8267997260524916218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/04/talking-with-my-dad.html' title='Talking with my Dad'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-1907142916723165541</id><published>2009-03-30T00:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T00:26:35.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gym Time</title><content type='html'>I find some sort of peace and while at the gym for some reason. There's just some sort of escape for me there with my music, running, and lifting really heavy things. Oftentimes, my homies would wave at me at the gym and I'd not notice because I'm off in my own little world. Also, I think that being an extrovert, I love being in a gym with lots of people rather than working out by myself. It's also why I love studying at Gateway or at Starbucks with all of its little sounds and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's something I love to do and it's also something I do to get away and clear my head with all the little happenings in life. Maybe the secret to dealing with daily struggles is to immerse yourself into something that you're so passionate in. Unfortunately, I feel that many people "get away" by becoming workaholics. I know my dad is, he works to get away from the troubles of home and all that and maybe I'm starting to be like that. I've picked up more shifts at work, granted the money is pretty good too, but maybe I'm trying to find something and I'm using work and the gym to fufill that mystery want for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-1907142916723165541?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/1907142916723165541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=1907142916723165541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1907142916723165541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/1907142916723165541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/03/gym-time.html' title='Gym Time'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5768822928699139644</id><published>2009-03-26T02:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T02:27:59.024-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='help'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='regret'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mistakes'/><title type='text'>Cultural and Language Barriers</title><content type='html'>A while ago, I went to a little pho restaurant near my house before heading off to school for one of my later classes. I went in, ordered, and ate. While I was eating, I couldn't help but notice a Caucasian man in the restaurant also ordering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was noticeably frustrated by the language barrier, but he eventually was able to get something. When they brought out the food, he had to send it back because it wasn't exactly what he ordered. It came back and it still wasn't what he ordered. Eventually he just got up, paid for his drink, and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I didn't know why I didn't offer my help.  And I wondered, after he left, if I did help out, would it have helped make someone's day a little bit better? After all, why not, right? I speak Vietnamese, and he had trouble communicating, so why not right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say that the decisions that we make today are due to the decisions we've made in the past. Every time we do something, we wonder, if only for a brief moment, "Hey, what happened last time I did this?" It is also said that we're the sum of our mistakes and experiences, so perhaps we all get distinct quirks of our personality from something from our past.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5768822928699139644?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5768822928699139644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5768822928699139644' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5768822928699139644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5768822928699139644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/03/cultural-and-language-barriers.html' title='Cultural and Language Barriers'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5755995616244915499</id><published>2009-03-17T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:23:50.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feelin' New</title><content type='html'>It's been hella years since my injury where I broke my ankle. Whenever I tried to run, it'd always hurt after about five minutes, and I'd stop and do something less intensive, like the elliptical machine or the stair master (the stair master is an evil, evil machine, btw) And so, without changing my eating habits (pho or BCD after a late night partying, KBBQ twice a week, All you can eat such, and other things that should be taken in moderation, I mean, did you know one shot of tequila has 200 calories?) my figure noticeably got bigger. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one day I woke up, went to the ARC and went on the treadmill, and ran. I was tuning out on with my music when I checked the time, I had been running for ten minutes, and I was still doing fine. I ended up finishing with 20 minutes. Thinking it was only a one day occurance, I went back the next day, then the next day, and the next day, and I realized, hey, I can finally run again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it may seem a little trivial, how important running is, and as cliche as this might sound, but until that abillity has been taken away from you, you don't really realize the importance of such things until then. So it's been fun running these past few days (finals week notwithstanding).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the small things in life that keep us running through it, don't you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5755995616244915499?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5755995616244915499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5755995616244915499' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5755995616244915499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5755995616244915499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/03/feelin-new.html' title='Feelin&apos; New'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-490130996193338053</id><published>2009-02-25T01:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T01:28:21.208-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='differences'/><title type='text'>What's the difference?</title><content type='html'>Individualism is something that, as human beings, we all seek. We seek to find ourselves as individuals in the larger context of a social group, and larger still, society. We attempt to adopt a unique identity that we can call our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it can be seen that in many of these social groups, there is a sort of...sameness, of homogeneity. Everyone doing the same thing, wearing the same thing, listening to the same music, and even liking the same thing. Perhaps in our efforts of individualization, we also have a need for connection and social interaction. That need then turns itself into a sort of anticipatory socialization in which in order to be friends and engage with others, a part of yourself has to be like them as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always felt that I was always a bit &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;different &lt;/span&gt;from my peers growing up, I always tried to go against the grain. Not different as in ...bad different, but just, different. Instead of being a bio major like what my parents wanted me to do, I became an engineer, now a sociology major. My best friends, I feel, are also a bit different, so perhaps we find some kind of unspoken bond in that regard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe what I'm trying to say is that as unique as we try to become, we always attempt to find a need of sameness, of connection with another. So perhaps it is in our differences that we come together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-490130996193338053?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/490130996193338053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=490130996193338053' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/490130996193338053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/490130996193338053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-difference.html' title='What&apos;s the difference?'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5659219814933871723</id><published>2009-02-17T00:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T00:22:03.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have the funniest parents</title><content type='html'>I swear I have the funniest parents sometimes. I wish I could just record them and show it to them years later. The thing is, they don't mean to be funny, but when I think about it and tell my friends, I just can't help but laugh. Sometimes I just want to and put some of this stuff on mymomisafob.com or mydadisafob.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a digression, I recently found out about fmylife.com. Another past time of mine of which I can probably add one or two things to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, last night, I was talking to my dad. I talk to my dad once in a blue moon, the topics usually revolve around two things - school or my future. Lately, it has been more of the latter due to my graduation date quickly approaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So son, how's school?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh it's good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay. So...do you have a girlfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why not?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well...It's compli..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? No girlfriend? Do you need money? How much do you need? I'll give it to you. You need to find yourself a girlfriend son." Then he goes on how I need to pay for the girl, but not all the time. Oh dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have a funny story about my mom from awhile back. I'm walking downstairs into the kitchen to get some breakfast. I see my mom just staring at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Son, I have a question?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you gay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure? I haven't seen any girls in awhile. And...you're a cheerleader and and...you have boys coming into your room late at night. I mean, I love you regardless...I just want grandchildren."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"First of all, just because I'm a cheerleader doesn't mean anything. And my friend was plastered last night and he was in the area.  But anyways, you have two other sons"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aiyah! You're the oldest!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still asks about girls from time to time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5659219814933871723?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5659219814933871723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5659219814933871723' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5659219814933871723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5659219814933871723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-funniest-parents.html' title='I have the funniest parents'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-2232104823493240899</id><published>2009-01-30T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T01:42:18.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear as Motivation</title><content type='html'>I had my SPOP Returner interview this morning and after the session I was still thinking about a lot the things I said in it. Yet, one that I kept thinking about was fear and how it affects people. I was really nervous before, during, and even a little bit after the interview and to be honest part of me is afraid I'm not good enough to be a returner. Thinking upon those things, I've come to realize one thing: fear drives us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Let's take the opposite of fear. What is the opposite of fear? Not happiness, but rather, contentness and comfortability. Comfort leads to nothingness. When someone is comfortable, that individual is happy and there is no stimulus to do anything productive or any need to step outside one's own comfort zone because there is no need to. When things are comfortable, things are stagnant, static, unchanging - it all remains the same. There is no change because there is no need for change because things are good the way it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When there is fear, fear of inadequacy, fear of failure to others and to self, then there is an internal stimulus to strive for the betterment of self and perhaps of others. I know too many people who are just plain happy in their station in life right now. Heck, I've been one of those people until I met people who told me otherwise. For an example of this fear, we can look to the animal kingdom. In it, tigers are driven to be fast in order to hunt and gazelles are driven to be fast in order to not caught. It is the fear of not eating and not being eaten that drives them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout high school, I was afraid I wasn't going to get into a good university, so I worked my butt off during extracurriculars and all the homework I assigned (and then some). And once I got into UCI, I stopped. I don't know why, maybe because I found some sort of contentness and comfortablilty here or perhaps I didn't care as much because my parents weren't riding me to do well in school, because hey, I'm already in college. I need to find that motivation again. I need to find that motivation I had where I was studious like no other, where I went to the gym like no other. I will find it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-2232104823493240899?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/2232104823493240899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=2232104823493240899' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2232104823493240899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2232104823493240899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/01/fear-as-motivation.html' title='Fear as Motivation'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-8527539041074790255</id><published>2009-01-16T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T13:12:40.758-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strength'/><title type='text'>Finding Strength</title><content type='html'>The past few weeks have been harder than I thought for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told, this is nothing new. My family has had problems my entire life and more so when I started college - during my freshmen year of college, my dad left for about a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I've always managed to hang on somehow.  I think that throughout my five-year college experience, if there's one thing I've learned it's that friends will be there for you if and when you allow them to. It takes the bigger man to accept help than to deny it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an extrovert. All that means is that I get energy when I'm around people, rather than by myself. I deal with things, solve problems when I have others around me. When I'm down, I need to be around my friends. Maybe that's why I'm always at school, as an escape from home. Introverts, on the other hand, like to be in really small groups or by themselves - that's when they are most productive and have the most energy. Some of my friends deal with things by lighting a candle in their bedroom and reading a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gotten so much support from everyone with comments, hugs, and all that. And all I can say is that I'm very, very grateful and appreciative of it all. The day after I posted the last blog two of my friends sat me down at school and we just talked. It was pretty awesome. It's the small things in life that get you going through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friends would take me out to help get my mind off things and it helps, it really, really does. I guess the best way to deal with something is not by dealing with it directly, because that makes the problem seem bigger than it needs to be, but rather, indirectly by doing something else. I'm not saying running away from problems are the way to go, but by getting your mind off of it for awhile is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my friends go canyon carving, some of my friends go fishing, I hit the gym. There's nothing better than lifting heavy objects to get your mind off of things, in my opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quote from one of my favorite movies - Into the Wild: "It's not enough to be strong, but you also have to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt; strong."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-8527539041074790255?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/8527539041074790255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=8527539041074790255' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8527539041074790255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/8527539041074790255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/01/finding-strength.html' title='Finding Strength'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-4634577666265477971</id><published>2009-01-11T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T20:42:02.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Brightside</title><content type='html'>What if you woke up one day and your world entirely changed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up today and my parents were fighting as usual. Sunday mornings are usually fight mornings anyways for some reason, so I didn't pay any extra attention to it. As I came down stairs for to head to work, my brother told me they were going to get a divorce in about a month, after the Lunar New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't hit me at first because maybe I prepared for it a little bit. My mom and dad have been having disagreements for years and my mom talked about it on occasion. Then at work, something happened and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. Having a horrible day at work also didn't help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm not the first one kid to have his parents divorce but I can't help but feel that nothing's going right at all. I also can't shake the feeling that nothing I do will make everything right again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my favorite pair of socks has a hole in it. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Edit: Please forgive me if I seem bitter or angry all the time for the next few days.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/89tvTK5HDLM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/89tvTK5HDLM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-4634577666265477971?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/4634577666265477971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=4634577666265477971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4634577666265477971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4634577666265477971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/01/mr-brightside.html' title='Mr. Brightside'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-382312397532972328</id><published>2009-01-11T00:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T01:21:46.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Racial and Ethnic Identity Formation</title><content type='html'>I found an interesting article on the UCI webpage that deals with racial identity and its formation right &lt;a href="http://uci.edu/uci/features/feature_racestudy_090105.php"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In it, it brings up the notion that identity formation is not necessarily a reflection of personal choice as much as it is a reflection of others' views upon yourself and in turn that influences how you view yourself as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To use an admittedly weird example, let's say an African American couple move to Taiwan for work and have kids there. The kids grow up and speak fluent Chinese,  act Chinese, but doesn't look Chinese. Would the children's peers treat them as one of the in group or as an outsider, despite being born in that country and speaking the language perfectly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that brings up a chicken and egg-type of question - how is identity formed? Is it by the self or do we take in what we get from others first?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm inclined to lean toward the latter theory. That we first get our identities from our families and then we respond in kind with our peers. Our peers then would see it one another perspective and continue to give us feed back. All the while, there is dynamic that is continually changing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-382312397532972328?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/382312397532972328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=382312397532972328' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/382312397532972328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/382312397532972328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/01/racial-and-ethnic-identity-formation.html' title='Racial and Ethnic Identity Formation'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-4043593276832321096</id><published>2009-01-02T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T22:34:17.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Resolutions</title><content type='html'>1. Sleep at a more reasonable time on a nightly basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Get buffer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Pack lunches to save money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Save money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Meet more people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Do something amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-4043593276832321096?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/4043593276832321096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=4043593276832321096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4043593276832321096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4043593276832321096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-years-resolutions.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolutions'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5558393842937212133</id><published>2008-12-30T02:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T03:23:39.299-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gran Torino'/><title type='text'>Thoughts on Gran Torino</title><content type='html'>My SPOP homie Vince recommend Gran Torino to me one day when I was his server at Guppys. I remember seeing previews for it so tonight a couple of homies and I went to LA to check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first thought was, "Wow, Clint Eastwood squints a lot. Man, he curses a lot too. Wait, did he just say gook?" Yes he did, and lots other racial epithets about Asians, Hispanics, you name it, and he probably said it in the movie. That aside, I thought it was an incredible movie. Although it's set in Michigan, probably Detroit, it could be set in any number of areas with a large Asian American population.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the movie, I kept thinking, "Man, this movie reminds me A LOT about my life." I think my youth paralleled the movie quite a bit. First off, there's a boy by that name of Thao in the movie who's shy and doesn't really know what to do with life and is kinda whooped around the house by his mother and sister - kinda reminds me of me when I was a kid. Another thing was that in the movie was set in a predominately Hmong neighborhood with Clint Eastwood's character as the only non-Asian household on the block - a lot like my neighborhood. I think what really hit home was the gang element in the movie. The gangs in the movie, as they are here, were formed because little kids were tired of being bullied by big kids. In the movie near the opening, Thao was seen walking home from school being harassed by Hispanic gang members and all of the sudden his cousin and his gang shows up to scare them away with an Uzi. I'm sure things like that happened down the street in the 90s in my area. This same gang who saves Thao comes to be the antagonist element in the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuff happens, you can watch the movie if you wanna know what happens, and as expected, Clint Eastwood more or less takes Thao under his wing and helps him grow up. Clint Eastwood's character is a  Korean War veteran who was a part of the U.S. Army Rangers. What's almost scary is that in high school my neighbor, Mr. Parsons, more or less took me under his wing as well. Mr. Parsons is a U.S. Air Force veteran who served during Vietnam. He went to some of my football games and acted as a sort of mentor for me while in high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so many messages in the movie, so many things I could write about, I wish I could just write about all of them. However, I think the most important theme of the movie is violence begets violence and it really takes the bigger person to stand above it all. It's truly a movie everyone should see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5558393842937212133?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5558393842937212133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5558393842937212133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5558393842937212133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5558393842937212133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2008/12/thoughts-on-gran-torino.html' title='Thoughts on Gran Torino'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-7375427747544997276</id><published>2008-12-26T19:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T20:09:38.189-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Regret and Failures</title><content type='html'>Experience is built up upon failures of the past and regret of previous decisions. Every choice we make now is due to something happening in the past. One elementary example is some of us as children learn that the stove is hot because our parents told us it was. Some of us, like me, actually touched the thing so we quickly went "AH! PAIN!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I've learned a lot of my life experience with the latter method for some reason. Arguably, some people simply learn from others, some others simply learn by doing. Ever since I was a kid, everything I've learned, I've learned because I've actually done it, made mistakes, corrected those, and learned. I still remember some martial arts forms I learned ten years ago because of muscle memories, we learn our ABCs because we still remember performing that song, and in fact, I still have to sing it sometimes if I forget sometimes. Makes you wonder how we all got into college if we still have to recite a song to remember the order the English alphabet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never had the birds and the bees talk with my parents, maybe it's an Asian American parental thing or maybe they just plum forgot, but yeah, I never got it. I never got a lot of lessons on girls that I wish I did, other than the fact that they have cooties or something like that. Much of the experience I have concerning girls is because I think I've been through it all in regards to relationships with the other sex. My friends would ask me for advice on this situation or that situations, and I tell them "I've been there..." and I'd tell them a little bit of what happened to me. I feel sometimes I have failed too much in the past and there is too much regret there as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking to my friend today, I realized a made another mistake and that I just have to learn from it. I've always said that it's only awkward if you make it awkward, that it's only an issue if you make it an issue. And I realized that those words were truer than I thought they were.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-7375427747544997276?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/7375427747544997276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=7375427747544997276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7375427747544997276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7375427747544997276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2008/12/regret-and-failures.html' title='Regret and Failures'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-7669763220746241133</id><published>2008-12-25T00:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T00:47:10.738-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Plan, Just Do</title><content type='html'>The greatest times in my life, the most memorable times in my life, are the times in which I don't really plan anything, but rather, go and do. Granted, there is SOME planning involved, such as going here, or doing this, but other than that, it's all about the doing that really matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the greatest memories I have was when my best friend was moving into a new apartment. He was trying to find some furniture stores so he could furnish his place and luckily there was one less than a mile away. He bought a sofa from there and we were talking online about how to get it back to his apartment. For some reason, I had this crazy idea of CARRYING the sofa from the store to his place, you know, to safe fifty bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the greatest idea in the world! Until we actually did it. Oh man it sucked, it was a sofa-bed thing so it had a mattress and more metal in it, and it was heavy, and it sucked carrying it back. It took us about ten minutes to walk there and about an hour to bring it back. But man, we always look back on it and remember it and laugh about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend and I actually have this little motto of ours that kinda goes - "Be awesome in everything that you do." We're just trying to make every day a little bit awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-7669763220746241133?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/7669763220746241133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=7669763220746241133' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7669763220746241133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/7669763220746241133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2008/12/dont-plan-just-do.html' title='Don&apos;t Plan, Just Do'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-4213239872106137777</id><published>2008-11-30T19:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T19:32:13.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful for the small things</title><content type='html'>Thanksgiving has come and gone. Every year on this one day we give thanks for what we are grateful for. I ask, however, why must it be just one day that we're grateful for the things that we have? Maybe it's one special day a year that we set aside to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;extra&lt;/span&gt; thankful for the things that we have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-4213239872106137777?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/4213239872106137777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=4213239872106137777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4213239872106137777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/4213239872106137777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2008/11/thankful-for-small-things.html' title='Thankful for the small things'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-3866166280566609928</id><published>2008-11-26T00:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T01:50:34.323-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nationality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='identity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='asian'/><title type='text'>Face Value</title><content type='html'>It's time for my monthly update on this thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We , as people, have this weird need for ethnic identification right off the bat. It's especially true of Asian Americans. We have this yearning for the identification and knowledge of everyone around us. When we meet someone, we immediately categorize them in all these sorts of groups. Being a college student, these groups tend to revolve in student organizations, class year, and hometown. Being an Asian American college student at UCI, with the diversity of our campus, it also revolves around what ethnicity that person is if that person is of Asian descent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a discussion about this with my other Asian friends, we all seem to do this. If we meet another Asian person, we'll immediately try to figure out what ethnicity that person is. We subconsciously have all these triggers for what it means to be Vietnamese, Chinese, Korean, Japanese or what have you. Most of the time, my peers and I have no problem identifying other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem comes when people start trying to figure out what I am. They'll look at me for a minute and try to figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So Anthony....what are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I'm human yo. You?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No no, I mean, nationality?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of people mean ethnicity when they use the word "nationality." Nationality refers to one's citizenry. In that case, I'm American since I am an American citizen.  Depending on who's asking, I've been asked if I'm part Japanese, Filipino, Vietnamese, white, Korean, Chinese or they just give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when people ask what my nationality is, I just smile at them and say,  "I'm American."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-3866166280566609928?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/3866166280566609928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=3866166280566609928' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3866166280566609928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/3866166280566609928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2008/11/face-value.html' title='Face Value'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-2218898190528541707</id><published>2008-10-08T00:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T00:52:27.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's October Already?</title><content type='html'>I've been neglecting this blog since I created it sometime ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has so much that has happened this past few months. The only thing I can think about nowadays is: "Wow, where has the time gone?" and "What's going to happen when I graduate?" Over the summer I was crazy and not only did I do SPOP but I also took 20 units through UCI Extension to obtain my TEFL - Teaching English as a Foreign Language Credential. It was intense. I was in class, the gym, at SPOP, or hanging out with the homies the entire summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The TEFL Certificate Program was pretty cool, we had a bunch of classes that included theory, teaching practice, grammar, and all these other classes. I still need to brush up on my grammar a bit more, however. I've always been doing my research on teaching opportunities abroad when I graduate and it seems that South Korea is the place I want to go through the most. I've heard of programs like EPIK and SMOE that the government offers. I know one the SPOP Coordinators is doing SMOE right now and that's the program the job placement assistant person at UCI Extension recommended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also need to get myself a conversation partner. I should do that sometime this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I started a new job as a server at a Taiwanese restaurant called Guppy House in Irvine. I had to train in Hacienda Heights, about forty minutes away,  for three days and then we started at Irvine two weeks ago. The first day the restaurant opened was crazy. I was yelled at by customers and by my manager. Customers got up and left because of the chaos we had that first day and to top it off, we had a dine and dash. I felt so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it started to get better. Much better. I started to learn how to serve better, speak to customers, learning the menu a bit more, smile a lot more, all the good stuff. I realized that, as a server, if I don't smile - how can I expect my customers to smile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't smile, then they have won. It's amazing what a smile can do, it might even make someone's day. I hope I have while at work. Actually, I hope I do everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-2218898190528541707?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/2218898190528541707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=2218898190528541707' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2218898190528541707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/2218898190528541707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-october-already.html' title='It&apos;s October Already?'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8880499279625728279.post-5270905417764596309</id><published>2008-09-10T02:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T02:28:38.231-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='american'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='identity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='asian'/><title type='text'>Wading Through the Generation Gap</title><content type='html'>Being a second generation Asian American living in California, there are a lot of identities that have to be negotiated day in and day out. However, there are two in particular: at home vs. being out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At school I'm this outgoing guy who goes out of my way to meet people and shake hands. I'm involved in all these organizations and I go out, drink, party, go work out, everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At home I'm still my parent's child. Who's 22 years of age and yet I still address myself  as "child" to them. Who's quiet at home and stays locked in his room. Every time I go home, I always make sure my ink isn't seen and I make sure to cover it up as well as possible. My parents know next to nothing about my life outside of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When talking to the parents, it's so hard to relate things to how I see them, or at least, how my generation sees them. It's frustrating. It's frustrating with my horrible use of my native language - even more horrible that I read and write a foreign language better than the one I learned growing up. It's frustrating that I cannot relate my values, needs, and wants to them. It's frustrating not speaking to them like how my American friends do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the damndest thing of it all is when it's hard to explain it to my non-Asian friends. It's hard explaining about this sort of double life that I lead. That I'm sure most of us have been through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember as a kid in grade school, I was disgusted when my friends didn't finish their lunches. I always finished mine! Why? Because my mom whooped my ass if I didn't eat EVERY SINGLE GRAIN OF RICE on the plate. Because you know, my wife will have pimples if I don't. Shoot, I still strive to eat everything on my plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're a generation that's stuck in the middle, between the old country, and the new country. We have to negotiate culture and meanings from the first generation and fit it in with the country in which we live in now. We have to please our parents and we also have to please ourselves and our peers. We have to grow up as individuals in an individualistic society and at home we have to be switch back to being a part of a collective society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to grow up quickly. At early ages many of us have already either worked for our parents, served as translators, and more of less have been given responsibilities not given to most American children. Given this new sense of responsibility we're also NOT given any freedom accustomed to those of traditional American culture. This creates a kind of cognitive dissonance. We go "Hey, how come my friends get to do that, but we don't?" Parents never can say, "It's because you're Asian, son."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is, however, our job to create a sense of identity for ourselves. Some of us totally take in the old culture and reject the native country's culture. Some do the exact opposite. And then the vast majority of us are somehow in the middle. It is difficult, to be sure, to navigate this aspect of our lives since no one has yet developed what it means to be this, or to be that. We simply have examples. Examples of what our parents want us to be, examples of what America wants us to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I argue that it's neither of those things, it's what we as individuals strive to be. Taking motivation and goals from every each area and aspects of our lives. We have to live beyond expectations. That of our family's, our friends', and especially, ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8880499279625728279-5270905417764596309?l=theycallmeathai.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/feeds/5270905417764596309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8880499279625728279&amp;postID=5270905417764596309' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5270905417764596309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8880499279625728279/posts/default/5270905417764596309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theycallmeathai.blogspot.com/2008/09/wading-through-generation-gap.html' title='Wading Through the Generation Gap'/><author><name>athai</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09840019999255048511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AEOzW5N7eQ/SMeS3THOexI/AAAAAAAAAAM/TjRU8OKPTG8/S220/IMG_7782.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
