How to Give Gifts from Korea like a Teacher: Play a Game

After teaching English in Korea for an entire school year, my brain is set to generate

fun or clever ways to teach and entertain, so I decided on a really fun way to distribute Korean gifts to my friends back home. 

Pencil Cases, Tea & Soap

I wanted to bring a bunch of fun writer/teacher gifts back, but I wasn’t exactly sure which gifts would be received the best. In the end, I bought a bunch of things I thought were cool, funny, or very Korean, but I didn’t want the responsibility of choosing the perfect little gift for each person( approximately twenty). Gift giving and receiving is much different in the US compared with Korea. In the US, people are expected to be slightly emotional when they open gifts, which, to me, can get kind of exhausting. In Korea, most people don’t show emotion even when they are really excited about a gift. They also don’t open gifts in front of the people who gifted them.

When I thought of a way to encourage my friends to make these gifting decisions for me, instead of feeling ashamed, I cackled to myself with glee. Call me lazy if you want, but I turned gift choosing into a game. I wrapped up all the presents in Korean wrapping paper and brought them to my get-together. Instead of handing out the gifts, though, I had each person take a number from a bag, then I spread out the gifts, wrapped in intriguing paper and shapes, for all to see.

Next, I explained the rules: Each person could choose a gift in order of the number they drew from the bag. Then, the person who drew number one would choose from all the gifts, open one, show everyone, and then keep it. The person with the next number would choose a gift and go through the same routine, only they could choose to either keep their gift, or trade it with a previous person(s).

Let’s just say that curiosity piqued from wrapped gifts isn’t exclusive to child’s play.

It turns out that most people liked what they opened so only a couple people stole from each other. Because I wrapped the gifts a couple days prior to the gathering, I couldn’t even remember what I put in all the packages, so even I wanted to watch them being opened.

Juice Box Soju

I thought it was hilarious to watch people open things like Korean toothpaste( which I had gotten 3 tubes of as a gift from my school), juice box soju, and little calendars with awkward English on them. Like the toothpaste, each gift had a short story behind it, thus prolonging the entertainment and providing topics for conversation.

Despite there being about twenty gifts, only one person really despaired when they opened theirs. It was a Korean origami-like project that was supposed to turn paper into animals. I have to admit, that was just evil of me. Or, was it purposeful to tickle another part of our brains?  Naw, it was just evil. I wouldn’t have wanted to open that one either. But, in the end, my poor friend wouldn’t steal something from another person. I guess we’re all adults, either that or she was afraid of facing the wrath of one who really liked their gift. Since there were leftover gifts, though, I offered those who were unsatisfied with their gift to choose another.

Andong Soju

It was great fun! If you ever have a chance to do this, I highly recommend it.

A list of what I brought back:

Korean toothpaste

2 cute calendars with awkward English

2 mini notebooks with awkward English

2 Korean money erasers

Green Tea from Jeju Island

Juice box soju

Andong distilled soju ( the real thing)

Children’s pencil cases

Adult/subdued pencil cases

Korean origami-like paper to make animals out of

Goofy socks both “sleeping socks” and thin decorative socks

Innisfree Jeju Island green tea soap

Innisfree hand cream

A big notebook (line free) with cutesy characters on it

Ginseng candies

The Aftermath

Beguiled Out of Coffee Shop Writing Time

I am fortunate enough to have my own living space, yet as a writer, I still need that push to get out of said living space and into a work space, both physically and mentally. I’ve always wanted to find a cute little coffee shop and become a regular, build a relationship with the owners or the baristas, and have them know my drink. That kind of thing.

Korea is crawling with coffee shops, so I figured finding a suitable working space would be the least of my problems. Turns out, I was wrong. My biggest obstacle to writing was being “foreign” and English-speaking, and not for the reasons one would think.

One of Thousands of Coffee Shops

One day, I decided to wander down the street with the hope of finding something close and I came across a little shop called Santiago. From the outside, I couldn’t see any patrons, so I poked my head in to make sure they were open. A woman waved me inside and I ordered an Americano, then I sat down at a table tucked in one corner and pulled out my laptop, notebooks and pencil case. 

My Favorite Pencil Case: Owls!

I got to the halfway mark in my coffee cup with no new words typed into the document on my computer when the lady brought me another Americano in a to-go cup. At first, I took this to mean she was closing up shop and wanted me to pack up, but then she sat down and tried to talk to me. I don’t speak much Korean and she doesn’t speak much English, so it beats me how I got roped into practicing English with her middle school son on the next Sunday after several hours of gesturing and guessing. Also, my phone, one’s lifeline in Korea, was almost dead from trying to translate bits and pieces of this two hour non-conversation conversation. I left soon after and my brain felt like I’d just slaved over a chapter, only I hadn’t written anything at all.

Santiago Coffee Shop in Gyeongju

The next Sunday, I showed up at the specified time, or at least what I hoped was the specified time. Her son waited for me with an anxious look on his face. We proceeded to talk for an hour. Actually, I asked him questions for an hour and he answered them with short sentences, none of which could really be elaborated on. I couldn’t coax any more words out no matter hard I tried. By the time it was over, I felt like a mouse in one of those sticky, glue-like mouse traps. My heart was beating wildly at the fear of never seeing freedom again. His mom was going to beguile me into making him speak more elaborate sentences.

The lady’s eager demeanor was so sweet that I wanted to keep helping her son out, not for his sake, but for hers. But, I knew I couldn’t commit. I enjoy teaching and I would have loved to practice speaking under different circumstances, but the time I have in between teaching is all potential writing time. I get cranky when someone or something distracts me and tricks me out of it. Though, I think sometimes there’s a fine line between trying to please and just saying "no thank you" when you’re a visitor in someone else’s country.

In my situation,I knew just enough Korean( which isn’t saying much) to overhear the boy tell his mom that he really doesn’t need this and would prefer not to do it. That made two of us. What a relief. So, I packed up my things, bowed, thanked her for the coffee, smiled a lot, and took off for home.

I haven’t been back.

I thought being a non-Korean in a Korean coffee shop would be perfect. No one would bother me. They’d get my patronage, and I’d get epic amounts of writing done on my manuscript. But no, that wasn’t in the cards, not at Santiago.  However, since then, I’ve found several other worthy coffee shops to get my brain- grinding writing done in. The baristas are friendly without being hoverers and once in a while, they bring free drinks to my table. I have a feeling they are “practice” drinks, but it’s awesome and appreciated nonetheless.  And at these coffee shops, I don’t feel tricked out of my writing time. 

Free and Delicious "Practice" Drinks

Does this happen in other countries?