dumb foreigners(us), post offices and back to toilets!
OK,
I gave you the low-down on the toilets over here and I may have hinted at the toilet paper situation but I don't think that you know the extent of it. Our school provides no toilet paper or hand towels. So we supply our own paper and have to walk between the dumpster and the staff room with paper proudly in hand as if we were staying on a camp site or something. And the kids all have rolls of toilet paper in their school bags to keep them going as they go from school to academy to school- none of which can supply them the basics they need for this everyday venture. There are emergency supplies at the counter but it is a little embarrassing asking for paper as they tend to hand you every other bit of paper on the desk before getting the right one- as if the little dance that I was doing at the time didn't give it away!
So I have got used to the toilet paper situation and my Korean counterpart thought that it was odd that I hadn't anticipated this problem on my first day (when I turned up completely TPless!). Then it got confused all over again when we went to Seoul. The toilets at the first subway station we used had no paper but as we (and this is not the royal 'we' I had friends too- a girl who needs to go to the toilet is rarely without friends to accompany her) left the facility someone pointed out the machine just outside which was a paper dispenser. You have to pay for the privilege naturally but inserting the correct coinage will produce an individually wrapped bundle for you to use at your leisure. Fine. The next toilet (by the way, if you are of any kind of a North American persuasion and all this talk of toilets is offending you in any way then I suggest pasting this mail into Word and using the 'Replace All' function to change ever instance of the word toilet to bathroom or restroom or some other more palatable- if somewhat misleading- phrase) I had sussed- I went to the machine outside the door and inserted my 100 won piece. Very pleased with myself I ventured into the main 'landing' area with paper in hand and met the queue (line for the Americans again- see I am learning!). Well, having been a woman for most, if not all, of my adult life I am more than used to the queuing system in public lavatories. Except this one. Rather than any kind of a single orderly queue where it was obvious who had been there the longest and therefore deserved the next go on the throne (or squat pot as it turned out to be) women were lining up outside individual cubicle doors. They all turned to look at me. I looked back and joined a line. In all my experience of queuing I had never seen anything like this. Shortly after a flush was heard a door opened and rather than the lady queuing in front of it going in she gestured to some other female to enter. Which she did. So what was the story now? Was there some first come first served basis after all? Or is there some way of telling just by looking at people who long they have been waiting (maybe by the franticness of the foot shuffling?) Or was this woman a professional queuer who held the line for folk? I didn't know and probably never will. Finally the door in front of me opened and I went in- fingers tearing into my newly acquired plastic wrapped bundle of paper- and assumed the correct position. And what should I notice, mid-flow, but a gleaming great stainless steel toilet paper holder stuffed to overflowing with virgin tissue! I will never win on this one I think!
I read in the Lonely Planet that Korean companies were looking for ways to save money in times past and decided that too much of the company resources were being squandered on such trifles and fripperies as bog roll. So they stopped buying it. Must have been a bit of a shock on the first day but the Korean obligingly adjusted and started carrying their own. No-one thought fit to suggest that possibly more money could be saved if they just turned off a square kilometre or two of the neon tubes covering each and every non-resident building in the land??? Madness I say!
To get off the subject of public facilities for one minute (I am sure that I will find something else to say about them in the future so don't you worry!) I wanted to tell you about the train on the way to Seoul. Just one little instance of misunderstandings that are a daily occurrence for me over here. There were eight of us on the train on the way there (the rest of the group went off slumming it to the Philippines for the holidays- poor souls- while the rest of us lived it up in Seoul) and we were being rather sociable and generally having a great time. Shortly after we got onto the train an official came round and looked at us and said something. We all looked blankly back. He tried again- slightly slower and slightly louder (yes, the affliction is universal I fear). With a spark of understanding we all got our tickets out of the various pockets they had been stuffed in and held them proudly aloft. the guy looked at us as a group- obviously in awe of our speed of understanding- then he looked at each of individually. We all continued to sit and looked pleased with ourselves for our mastering the situation so quickly, Then he held a finger up to his lips and 'sshhed' us. So not the tickets then! We looked slightly abashed and less pleased with ourselves. The cute bit was the next time we were getting a little rowdy he walked straight past us and came back five minutes later and asked us to be quiet- obviously had an English teacher stuffed away in the guards van in case of such emergencies!
Everyday has its victories and defeats of understanding. This morning I was flicking through my newly purchased Korean phrasebook and saw that it had a phrase that translated to 'I would like to buy 5 aerogramme (those all in one airmail letters- not in the translation obviously but for the benefit of you guys!) please!' I hadn't known at that stage whether they sold them or not over here but this seemed as good as confirmation to me (I had forgotten about the fact that they sell cheese graters and not cheese and was opting for the purely logical here.) I went to the post office and held the book up to the woman behind the counter and pointed out the phrase. It worked. I bought aerogrammes. Of course, I had to buy five because that is what it said in the book after all, but I did buy some! It is so great when things work! next time I shall startle the lady with actually attempting to pronounce the words and that should give them something to chuckle over for the rest of the day.
I think that I shall leave you there then.
I gave you the low-down on the toilets over here and I may have hinted at the toilet paper situation but I don't think that you know the extent of it. Our school provides no toilet paper or hand towels. So we supply our own paper and have to walk between the dumpster and the staff room with paper proudly in hand as if we were staying on a camp site or something. And the kids all have rolls of toilet paper in their school bags to keep them going as they go from school to academy to school- none of which can supply them the basics they need for this everyday venture. There are emergency supplies at the counter but it is a little embarrassing asking for paper as they tend to hand you every other bit of paper on the desk before getting the right one- as if the little dance that I was doing at the time didn't give it away!
So I have got used to the toilet paper situation and my Korean counterpart thought that it was odd that I hadn't anticipated this problem on my first day (when I turned up completely TPless!). Then it got confused all over again when we went to Seoul. The toilets at the first subway station we used had no paper but as we (and this is not the royal 'we' I had friends too- a girl who needs to go to the toilet is rarely without friends to accompany her) left the facility someone pointed out the machine just outside which was a paper dispenser. You have to pay for the privilege naturally but inserting the correct coinage will produce an individually wrapped bundle for you to use at your leisure. Fine. The next toilet (by the way, if you are of any kind of a North American persuasion and all this talk of toilets is offending you in any way then I suggest pasting this mail into Word and using the 'Replace All' function to change ever instance of the word toilet to bathroom or restroom or some other more palatable- if somewhat misleading- phrase) I had sussed- I went to the machine outside the door and inserted my 100 won piece. Very pleased with myself I ventured into the main 'landing' area with paper in hand and met the queue (line for the Americans again- see I am learning!). Well, having been a woman for most, if not all, of my adult life I am more than used to the queuing system in public lavatories. Except this one. Rather than any kind of a single orderly queue where it was obvious who had been there the longest and therefore deserved the next go on the throne (or squat pot as it turned out to be) women were lining up outside individual cubicle doors. They all turned to look at me. I looked back and joined a line. In all my experience of queuing I had never seen anything like this. Shortly after a flush was heard a door opened and rather than the lady queuing in front of it going in she gestured to some other female to enter. Which she did. So what was the story now? Was there some first come first served basis after all? Or is there some way of telling just by looking at people who long they have been waiting (maybe by the franticness of the foot shuffling?) Or was this woman a professional queuer who held the line for folk? I didn't know and probably never will. Finally the door in front of me opened and I went in- fingers tearing into my newly acquired plastic wrapped bundle of paper- and assumed the correct position. And what should I notice, mid-flow, but a gleaming great stainless steel toilet paper holder stuffed to overflowing with virgin tissue! I will never win on this one I think!
I read in the Lonely Planet that Korean companies were looking for ways to save money in times past and decided that too much of the company resources were being squandered on such trifles and fripperies as bog roll. So they stopped buying it. Must have been a bit of a shock on the first day but the Korean obligingly adjusted and started carrying their own. No-one thought fit to suggest that possibly more money could be saved if they just turned off a square kilometre or two of the neon tubes covering each and every non-resident building in the land??? Madness I say!
To get off the subject of public facilities for one minute (I am sure that I will find something else to say about them in the future so don't you worry!) I wanted to tell you about the train on the way to Seoul. Just one little instance of misunderstandings that are a daily occurrence for me over here. There were eight of us on the train on the way there (the rest of the group went off slumming it to the Philippines for the holidays- poor souls- while the rest of us lived it up in Seoul) and we were being rather sociable and generally having a great time. Shortly after we got onto the train an official came round and looked at us and said something. We all looked blankly back. He tried again- slightly slower and slightly louder (yes, the affliction is universal I fear). With a spark of understanding we all got our tickets out of the various pockets they had been stuffed in and held them proudly aloft. the guy looked at us as a group- obviously in awe of our speed of understanding- then he looked at each of individually. We all continued to sit and looked pleased with ourselves for our mastering the situation so quickly, Then he held a finger up to his lips and 'sshhed' us. So not the tickets then! We looked slightly abashed and less pleased with ourselves. The cute bit was the next time we were getting a little rowdy he walked straight past us and came back five minutes later and asked us to be quiet- obviously had an English teacher stuffed away in the guards van in case of such emergencies!
Everyday has its victories and defeats of understanding. This morning I was flicking through my newly purchased Korean phrasebook and saw that it had a phrase that translated to 'I would like to buy 5 aerogramme (those all in one airmail letters- not in the translation obviously but for the benefit of you guys!) please!' I hadn't known at that stage whether they sold them or not over here but this seemed as good as confirmation to me (I had forgotten about the fact that they sell cheese graters and not cheese and was opting for the purely logical here.) I went to the post office and held the book up to the woman behind the counter and pointed out the phrase. It worked. I bought aerogrammes. Of course, I had to buy five because that is what it said in the book after all, but I did buy some! It is so great when things work! next time I shall startle the lady with actually attempting to pronounce the words and that should give them something to chuckle over for the rest of the day.
I think that I shall leave you there then.
posted by Helen @ 12:04 AM
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