I wrote a letter to the CRTC today!

Wierd, right? Anyway, here it is, in case you want to take a look:

apparently, they're accepting public comments until October 1st, if you want to chime in. the application is here , and you can send a message to the CRTC here .



Dear Commissioners:
I am writing in opposition to Quebecor's application for a Category 2 license (proceeding 2010-649, item 1). I do not wish to appear at the public hearing.

It has come to my attention that Quebecor is requesting special considerations in the form of a new licensing category for its Sun TV News project. I believe that awarding this license to a news and opinion network, which is overtly partisan by mandate, would set a dangerous precedent regarding the CRTC and its role in the public discourse.

To expound, Quebecor has cited its request for mandatory access as neccessary to Sun TV News' viability as a business venture. While I believe that the CRTC has a duty to help Canadian voices to be heard, I also believe that Quebecor is a globally established media group, and as such it should be able to draw upon its means and experience to launch this news station without requiring special privileges. If Quebecor, a media giant, can not garner adequate public interest without regulatory aid, then I would argue that there is either a serious flaw in their business concept or their product does not reflect Canadian public interests.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sean Preston
Vancouver, Canada

Tap tap tap... Is this thing STILL ON?!?

Soooo..... how about that Olympic gold in Men's Hockey, eh? Wasn't that something??

(Yeah, it's been that long--sorry about that!)

Actually, speaking of That Gold Medal Game (I am master of the segue...), it reminds me of a fantastic anecdote! It seems like it was only 'yesterday'...

Living in a goshiwan in Nakseongdae (which, incidentally, is being featured in this month's issue of "Closet Living"), I spent most of my time chasing after jobs that were not to be. I would then drown my sorrows in the greasy run-off from several orders of samgyeopsal (for the uninitiated, here's the short description: The Koreans have managed to make bacon into a meal). Luckily, I could look to Olympic hockey for solace and a sort of cultural homecoming.

So, when Team Canada made it to the semi-finals, it was imperative that I find a good venue to watch the game--I would cheer at the glowy box alone no more!! I made an arrangement with Jeremy: we treked for an hour on the subway to Itaewon in central Seoul to seek out the Rocky Mountain Tavern--the only 'Canadian' pub in Korea. We watched the game surrounded by Canadians, on a Canadian television feed (CTV) with Canadian commercials--in ENGLISH! It was an amazing time, and, of course, WE WON!

We all knew that the gold medal match was slated to start 18 hours later, at 5AM local time, so a chant quickly developped in the pub: "5-A-M!! 5-A-M!!" It was not creative, but it did the trick--the owner consented to open his bar at 5AM, so that we could watch the game.

So, that brings me to the next morning at 4:15 AM. I woke up ten minutes later than I wanted to, so I quickly pulled on the first clothes that my hand touched and rapped on Jeremy's door (we were neighbours in our cell-block). We got downstairs by 4:30, and we had to catch a taxi, because the subways didn't start running for another 40 minutes.

We got to the Rocky Mountain Tavern, and we were delighted to see that the lights were on. We jumped out of the taxi, and we saw a steady stream of people coming out of the building.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Don't even bother--you'll never even make it up the stairs, and forget about getting close enough to see a television!" replied one would-be viewer.

It seemed that word of our tavern's special opening spread a bit too far too fast... But then we got a hot tip from the passing exodus:

"Go to Phillies pub in Hwabongsan, that's where we're going. Take a taxi, it'll only cost you the minimum fare!"

So, into a cab we went. Next stop: Hwa... hwa... hwabongsa...n. (Never been there, didn't know anything about it, except that apparently it was close, and therein lied the prospect of hockey watching.)

Jeremy and I stepped out of the cab--the driver didn't ask us where we wanted to go, he just dropped us off, so we figured this must be the place. Well, it was now 5:20, and we didn't see Phillies anywhere. I went into a couple of 24 restaurants and exercised my modest Korean (blended with English and Konglish), but apparently all I did was spook people, so I quickly gave up. Jeremy, on the other hand, tried a convenience store and had a lead!!

Here's Korean hospitality at its finest for you: Jeremy went into a convenience store at 5:20 AM, and asked for directions to a pub. The lady at the counter didn't understand him very well, and didn't know where he wanted to go, but she phoned an English speaker to come to the store at 5:20 AM just to help us out!!

Feeling unduly obliged, we decided that we should at least give this store some of our business, so we bought some snacks and some coffees while we waited in the store. Not five minutes later, a car pulled up. But... wait... ... ... it... ... it's a police car.......... And two police came out, and came into the store...

"You have made some problem?"

These are not words that a foreigner wants to hear from a cop in the middle of the night.

We quickly (but not TOO quickly) attempted to explain that:

a)we were sober

b)we were Canadian

c)we don't want any trouble

d)we just want to watch a hockey game

e)we were looking for a pub called "Phillies"

I guess we were successful enough, because the didn't take out their handcuffs. Instead, the officer said, "You want where?"

"Phillies..."

The officer took out a notepad and a pen, "Please. Write."

I scanned Jeremy's eyes for the correct orthography, and found only the same sleepy uncertainty I was trying to overcome. I wrote my best guess, banking on the American chic.

"AHH, FEELEES!"

"So, you know it?"

"Yes"

"And it is close?"

"Yes"

... ... ... "How do we get there?"

The officer looked at his partner, then walked to the door. "Come with us."

So that, my friends, is how Jeremy and I got a ride in the back of a police cruiser to watch the second half of Canada's march to victory over the US in Olympic hockey. We watched the game in mixed company (by company, I mean Americans and Canadians; and by mixed I mean like oil and water), and you could almost smell the border-battle rivalry. (But you couldn't actually smell it, because it was slightly overpowered by the smell of people who had been drinking since 11PM the night before).

In any case, it was an amazing climax to a harrowing adventure. Jeremy and I walked out of Phillies at about 8:30AM, and went back to Itaewon to celebrate with a western-style breakfast. Pancakes, bacon, and a LOT of gloating with our fellow Canadian diners!!

Stay tuned--More catching up to be posted soon. Next stop, late-March! I'm about to get a job!! Maybe...

They Grow Up So Fast...

It's been a while since I've written about my job, and it's really time that I did.

Some things have changed since my early posts about crazy administrative decisions. Well, the administration continued to make crazy decisions, but meanwhile I was actually teaching the curriculum that I'd developed. Here's a glimpse at the first day:

I met the teachers (my students) in the afternoon and conducted a placement interview with them, deciding what level of fluency they had attained. It was determined before I had arrived that they were essentially beginner to pre-intermediate learners and I was given a corresponding text to use for exercise material. Based on the hesitation and lack of comprehension during the interviews, I agreed that the text was appropriate to the class average.

Day 2:

I walked up the stairs and stepped into my classroom--a new teacher walking into a room full of teachers--teachers who had given up their five week winter vacation so that I could teach them to speak English. Do they scrutinize me before chewing me to pieces? Do they dismiss me outright because of my youthful appearance? Do they just sit there and wait for the lunch bell to ring?

"Confidence... Just remember to be confident. Win them over early, build a rapport right away, and it will make all the difference!"

I began the lesson by going through a carefully planned out review of the alphabet, introducing oneself, and exchanging phone numbers. The class was going very smoothly. Very smoothly. Too smoothly... ... They already know all of this. And yet no one said anything. They sat there politely, followed instructions and participated in role-plays whilst I insulted their abilities by trying to teach them the alphabet.

And no one said anything. So much for early rapport...

So now I'm in a panic. I have two hours left to teach, and my materials and lesson plans are virtually useless. Then I realized that I had been trained for all this, and it dawned on me that, while I apparently knew nothing about their grammar knowledge, I now knew about said ignorance, and was equipped to remedy it.

So, diagnosing their real weaknesses and then re-designing lessons on the fly, coming up with remedial activities to address the problems, I managed to make it to my first weekend, which I spent in my studio apartment, retooling my lesson plans, syllabi, even my curriculum. Everything had to change, right away. That weekend, I managed to rework three days worth of lessons--I was struggling just to keep ahead of the calendar! And so it was, for five gruelling weeks.

And it was gruelling for the students, too. Once I'd keyed into their real needs, they were being put through the paces regularly. They really had to focus, and the lower level students were working fiendishly to keep ahead of the curve. But day by day, things were getting better.

I took a page out of my CELTA training experience: "You want to learn how to teach? Ok, teach! Show me what you've got!". On day four of the course, they taught their first mini-lesson. The goal: to show them that, even if all they do is stand in front of the class, introduce themselves, and establish the topic for the day, they have done it in English, and they have done it in front of a whole crowd of people.

They were starting to rally together to support each other, and I could see that some of them were really bonding--it was like watching a family come together...

Flash forward to week 3:

John, the class captain, has organized a dinner for me and the other two teachers in the math department, and he wants to know what kind of food I like, so that he can choose a suitable restaurant. Everyone of our students was in attendance, and they toasted us, fed us, and laughed with us (which often meant taking the time to translate a joke, so that we could share in the laughter)...

Then, at the end of an after hours remedial tutoring session (held on my own time, because the school wouldn't pay for it) the Math 2 class invited me to one of their clandestine dormitory "meetings" which involved take-out, certain potables which were not allowed on campus, and a lot of relaxed discussion. We talked a bit about school, but mostly about life. They asked me lots of questions about what North American life is like, about my girlfriend (it was a room full of women, and I think a couple of them were angling...), and about why I was in Korea. And they shared a lot about what themselves, their culture, and what they thought of my class and me as a teacher. And they were honest about it....

So, I was actually getting to know my students in a meaningful way; they were teaching me all about Korean culture, and moreover, they were inviting me into their family...

Flash forward to the last week of work: Week 5

I should really start by saying that on Saturday, Chloe, one of my students, offered to show me some of her favorite places in Seoul--places that foreigners are rarely told about. We spent the day looking at cultural centres and small boutique museums, and then she took me to her very favorite place--an area of Seoul where all of the houses are built using traditional Korean woodworking. It was stunning. Then she accompanied me to Sun's house (another student), where I was invited to spend the night. It was a great opportunity to meet Sun's husband and kids, and get to experience regular Korean home life for a moment.

On Monday night I taught another after-hours remedial session--2 hours of additional fluency exercises, and counselling time to help them iron out the language for their final exam practicums. It during this session that I was informed that I would be accompanying them to a

noraebang (karaoke) on Thursday, and that I would be required to learn and perform a Korean traditional song. How could I say no??

Tuesday I stayed with them for two hours of practicum work, then some of us went to the gym for an hour to get our daily dose of badminton, and then I came back to help out the diehard workers (which was more than half of my class) until about 12:30AM.

Wednesday I normally go skiing with the staff, and my students organize their own trip to coincide with the staff trip, so that we can all go together. Well, this week, I was the only one on the sign-up sheet, so the staff trip was cancelled. My students made special arrangements to include me in their trip instead, made room for me in the carpool (it was a squishy ride) and worked out my ski rentals and everything for me.

Thursday was the big night--noraebang night. It was the last night of the programme--Friday is the big send off. So, we did it up right. We feasted on twaeji-bulgogi, [a marinated pork (similar cut to bacon) that is grilled table-side and eaten with lettuce and many small side dishes and sauces] and toasted each other liberally for about two hours. And then gifts were presented to me and the other two Math teachers. I was given a really nice hooded sweatshirt which I can only describe as being stylish and distinctly Korean (more on that later). We each made an impromptu speech, and while I was talking, I was already getting a bit tearful about our inevitable parting; I wasn't the only one. After our speeches, each of the students stood up and gave a speech. (I remind you that these are the same students who, in an interview five weeks ago, convinced me that I needed to teach them how to greet each other!) The sentiments were truly overwhelming; occasionally one of the students would had to leave the room for a while to calm themselves. I barely kept it together myself... We all felt the same: we wanted 5 more weeks together...

Then was the noraebang. I sang a song called "Bu Cho Kohn", which was a big hit (although had to find about 12 hours in three days in order to learn and memorize the song by rote). We danced, we sang, we banged tambourines, and we shook off the sadness of earlier. We then went to a hof (pub) where there would be more carousing, and an opportunity to further cement some friendships, especially with Chloe, Sun, and John. On the way to the pub, Jenny (who was not secretive about having a bit of a crush on me, and in fact announced in her speech at the restaurant that she had finally 'given me up'), told me that she had picked out the hooded sweatshirt that I was now wearing. I told her that she had good taste, and that I liked it very much--she seemed perhaps overly pleased (more on that later).

The programme ended today, as did my contract at the Gyeonggi English Village - Yangpyeong Camp. I conducted final interviews with my students to assess their progress over the past 5 weeks, and then we had a closing ceremony for the math and science departments combined. Speeches were made by the directors, a student representative from each department, and each of the math and science teachers. I was glad that I had scrawled a roughly prepared outline before I was called up to talk, because I was in no shape to talk off the cuff and try to summarize the events, experiences and triumphs that we had shared, or the relationships we had forged.

As closing ceremonies go, it was fitting. Our students showered us with more gifts, and we said our official student-teacher farewells. Then we met in the cafeteria for one final meal together, as friends. Jenny was beaming, and I couldn't figure out why. Then she explained to me that the hooded sweatshirt that she was currently wearing was the matching set to the one I was wearing (couples in Korea often wear matching outfits). At this point, two other women said that Jenny was a liar for saying that she had 'given me up', and insisted that Jenny buy them the matching sweatshirts as well! We all laughed...

We've already agreed to have a re-union on April 8th, so I'm going to have to stick around at least that long, I guess! I can't imagine missing it... Until then, I've already started making other plans to meet with my new yoh dong saeng (little sisters), nuna (big sisters), and

hyong (big brothers), some of whom now refer to me as nam dong saeng (little brother) or opa (big brother). Several of my students have offered to open their homes to me if I should need a place to stay for a while, or if I just want to visit for a couple of days. I am luckier than I know...

It's been a little over 12 hours since they all went home, and the English Village feels like a ghost town to me now--like I no longer belong here. Time to move on to the next, whatever that may be...

Now in glorious technicolor!

Just a quick post to let you all know that I've finally gotten off my butt and started posting photos along with some of my blogging. Stay tuned for a special gallery section of ridiculous signage!!! ;)

Thanks for reading,

--Sean

Latin Fire in Frozen Seoul

Sometimes it's best to just say 'yes'. Don't think, just do. As soon as you start thinking, you'll just do what you always do, and that's boring!

So, I'm on the train to Seoul early one Sunday afternoon in January; the thick morning frost still hasn't faded from the railway ties. And as I'm still quite tired from my previous day's sojourn to Itaewon (and subsequent shennanigans with Jeremy & Co.), not thinking is remarkably easy... I'm on my way to meet up with Ronda, one of my partners-in-crazy in the English Village teacher trainer programme.

Twenty minutes late for our rendezvous, I stepped off of the train at Shinchong Station (NOT to be confused with Shinchung Station which is on the opposite side of town...), and we went to have lunch with Ronda's friend, Sung Yi, at one of Ronda's favorite Mexican restaurants in the area (of which there are several).

Yeah, Mexican food in Seoul. Go figure...

But I didn't start this entry to tell you about beef and bean enchiladas. And while there are many risks involved with eating Mexican food with new aquaintances, eating Mexican food in Asia, and eating Mexican food in general, it's hardly the kind of brazen comfort-zone-be-damned act that would warrant the opening to this blog entry.

Wow, was the opening that far back? Did you have to re-read it, too? Ok, I'll get to the point.

So on Friday, two days prior, when Ronda was asking our team if anyone would be interested in getting some salsa lessons from her friend in Seoul and then going to a club Katherine and Brian both showed interest, and since I'm looking for new experiences, I said "Sure, sounds fun!"

Fun?!?

Did I mention that I took the train to Seoul by myself? Yeah, about that: Katherine came down with a nasty (non-Mexican-food related) stomach bug, and Brian vanished sometime between Friday's "I'm in." and Sunday's actually being in...

So, it's me, Ronda and Sung Yi in a frigid, sub-terrainian dance studio. Did I also mention that Ronda is half Hispanic and started dancing the cha-cha when she was 7? And for those of you who don't know: my feet haven't stepped to music with any degree of accuracy since I was in A Chorus Line back in highschool (and even then, the accuracy was debatable!).

Song Yi was a great teacher-- encouraging and patient, but still firm with corrections. I had to say, it was a bit of a head trip to be listening to a mixed CD of great salsa music in the land of kimchi with my Korean dance instructor. Even more bewildering was the fact that I was actually picking up the moves!

And then it happened... (No, this has nothing to do with the Mexican food either)

The song changed, and as the first few bars of the new song unfolded, my mind went completely blank. For the first time since Rene Hugo first taught me how to play this song six and a half years ago, I had completely lost the rhythm of Moliendo Cafe--the first song we'd ever played together. Memories of six years of festivals, tours, studios and weekly rehearsals came careening through my mind, and all I could do was stand there dumbfounded and a little homesick.

But I soon excused myself for my mental leave of absence and pressed on with the lesson, and before I knew it, our time was up, and we were headed for a salsa club--just five minutes away on foot. In the Hongdae district of Seoul, there are about 8 salsa clubs, and apparently there are many more in the adjacent neighbourhoods!

We arrived at the club, and one thing immediately struck me: this club is all dance floor!! There were no tables, there was no food being served, no alcohol, there was no one there trying to be seen... just music, dancers, a cooler of soda and fitness drinks, and a mirrored wall to help you see how you're doing. There were dancers at all levels, from beginner to professional, and the music was fantastic!

So, with a little help from my friend Ronda, I survived my first night of salsa dancing, and learned all about Seoul's flourishing salsa community. I might have even enjoyed myself a little. (At least, I hope I did, because I've already agreed to go again next week!)

I'm looking forward to seeing what other surprises are in store here in the heart of Korea...

Itaewon--the west in the east, for better or worse.

Friday, January 15th

I’m currently sitting in a Paris (pa-ree) Baguette Cafe a few blocks from Itaewon Station, and as I type this, an elderly Korean woman is walking past the bay window wearing a pair of baggy, rather unapologetic, American-flag pants.

Itaewon is where the foreigners go to feel a little closer to home. As I sit here, I’m hearing an equal amount of English and Korean (and broken Korean) being spoken. I suppose it’s no coincidence that I am also spitting distance from the red light district (the two prominent strips affectionately known as Homo Hill and Hooker Hill). As one of my colleagues put it: You can see every gradient of society here. There are leagues of street vendors grilling foods and hocking their wares to the drunken passers-by, while well-dressed Koreans and foreigners walk out of the adjacent storefronts of chic clubs and posh western-style restaurants. There’s also a significant population of Nigerians here, which is a bit of a curiosity--no one that I’ve spoken to can offer a corroborated reason for their having established a community here, although it seems that many people are suspicious of them.

And right now, I’m half-eavesdropping on a girl talking about Commercial Drive hippies...

I think what I find most interesting about this area is how many Koreans there are walking amidst the foreigners. I mean, I can understand the homesick, lonely foreigners who come to Itaewon in search of a Guiness, a slice of apple pie or pay-sex, but I wonder why the Koreans frequent the area. Could it be that this is where they come to experience western culture? It would be a shame if that were the case--that this full service haven for foreigners is the most convenient inroad to some kind of western cultural experience.

But before I paint too bleak a picture (because it’s easy to sneer at manifestations of western culture in foreign lands), I should say that Itaewon is a very interesting region. True, it has a bit of a seedy underbelly, as it’s so close to the red light district, but it also has a certain unique vibe to it, too. The main strip is full of shops for foreigners, like Columbia Sportswear or Outback Steakhouse, but the side streets and back alleys are teeming with little shops and stalls where you can get everything from Turkish lamb kebobs (which are spicy and delicious!) to indian spices to Toblerone bars. There’s also a great english book store here called “What the Book?” which sells new books and also serves as a used book exchange. I am looking forward to exploring this area more thoroughly in the safety of daylight because I have a feeling that somewhere within the network of back-alleys lies a wealth of blended culture and food for thought.

A wanderer's Seoul

January 10, 2010

Once again, I have observed that the best travel experiences cannot be planned.

I had my heart set on spending the weekend in Seoul. I spent Thursday and Friday leafing through my travel guide, asking colleagues about cheap places to stay, and trying to make plans with friends of friends and other acquaintances who had generously offered to show me around.

And then happenstance intervened.

Long story short, it's 4:00pm, and I'm now riding with two of my colleagues, Jeremy and Ronda, in a car being driven by Stony--one of the admins at the school. Ronda had arranged to have me meet one of her contacts, "Mr. Lee", in Seoul so that I could get a cell phone. Jeremy has plans to meet with a friend of his at 10:00pm, so we're going to hang out for a while, then his friend will help me find a place to sleep.

Stony dropped us off, and we made our rendezvous with Mr. Lee at a coffee shop at Hoegi (way-gee) Station, at which point Ronda left us to make her own engagements. Mr. Lee and I left Jeremy at the coffee shop so that we could complete our transaction. As we stepped into the open air, I took in the scene around me--the sidewalks were pouring over with people, street stalls and delivery people on motorcycles. Although Seoul is not a particularly dirty city by any means, there's a subtle industrial grittiness about the planning and construction that I've since come to find charming... After 30 minutes, two banks, and some crazy back alley dealings between Mr. Lee and the Key Maker from the Matrix, I managed to procure my cell phone.

Jeremy and I found our way to Yongsan Station, and on exiting, found ourselves in the gaping maw of a gargantuan shopping centre. Therein, we enjoyed some lovely sushi at a "Californian-style sushi" restaurant (less than 500 km from Japan). Also available just down the hall was "Californian-style pho".

Maybe next time...

We window shopped for a few hours, then met up with Jeremy's friend Yun Hye (yoon hay). The rest of the night was a blur of eclectic clubs, street-side food vendors (my favorite!!!), and ended at about 4:30 in the morning, when Jeremy and I crashed in a room at a "love motel".

Hey, at $15 a piece for a warm, dry room and a hot shower, they can call it whatever they want! So what if they rent the rooms in 12 hour blocks?! The next day, we rose late, met up with Yun Hye for lunch (bibimbap!), got Jeremy a cell phone, and then went to go see Sherlock Holmes (with Korean subtitles).

And that concluded my first Seoul experience--Jeremy and I giggled like little girls throughout the 2 hour train ride home, as we revelled in our experiences and began to lay plans for future exploration...