Shae: Let's get on a boat to Pentos and never come back.
Tyrion Lannister: What would we do in Pentos?
Shae: Eat. Drink. Fuck. Live!
-Game of Thrones
It occurred to Joel and I this weekend that tomorrow will mark the beginning of our fourth month here in Korea. Many other teachers have commented as they were leaving that the time really goes by quickly here, and now I realize how right they are. It feels like just yesterday that we stumbled into the bus terminal, and yet we're a quarter of the way through our contract. Time really does fly.
For the most part, we have really enjoyed it so far. Some days the "culture shock" gets really frustrating, particularly my quest to get information about our health insurance policy and my ongoing banking saga (more on that in a minute), but by and large life is really easy, and very enjoyable here. We are excited about the two new teachers coming in next week - they are from Texas, and they sound really positive and fun. The outgoing teachers have done a lot to help us get oriented and learn the ropes of the job, but it will be really nice to have our group for the better part of next year all together.
This weekend was a lot of fun. After our Korean language class on Saturday morning (our second to last one for the session - it's crazy to think we have been studying Korean for seven weeks!), Joel and I picked up a nice flat-screen TV that we bought from an Irish guy who is about to leave the country. It's a great addition to our living room and a huge upgrade from crappy analog that came with the apartment (which would change the channel every time you tried to raise the volume and raise the volume and change the channel when you tried to lower the volume), and we can hook it up to the laptop! After we got that set up, my co-worker and I went hiking up to Jeungsim temple on Mudeung mountain. There are so many trails to explore, and every time you check one out, you find another one that you have to earmark for another day. It's so beautiful, though - I can't wait to see what it will look like in the fall!
I got dinner with some friends who work at a different hagwon, and then several of us went out dancing last night. Today I went to a jimjilbang, or a Korean bathhouse/sauna (more on that in a minute, too), and we hosted a movie night this evening. Not a bad weekend, if I do say so myself.
The Ongoing Bank Saga
So after my initial (negative) experience at the bank, my Korean co-worker went back with me to help sort everything out. After that visit, we got both Joel's and my name on the bank account and two functioning debit cards (one of which also works as a bus card). Last week, when we got paid, I went to the nearby branch to deposit our earnings and wire some of the money home. The actual wire transfer went fine, but when I went to put in my bank password, it turned out that I had memorized the wrong one (here, when you set up a bank account, you have a four-digit bank password number, a four-digit password for your bank card, and a separate six-digit PIN for your card for "international ATMs," whatever those are). The lovely English-speaking teller helped me to reset it and even fixed it so that I could use the same number for both my account and the card.
Unfortunately, I discovered later that day that while I could use my card at the ATM to withdraw cash, I could not use it as a debit card. On the other hand, Joel's card could no longer be used at the ATM, though he could still use it as a debit card.
WTF, Korea.
After yet another emotional breakdown at work, I took both cards back into the bank the next day and explained my predicament. The same lovely English-speaking teller replaced both cards and reset both card passwords (again), so we are okay with the bank (for now, at least).
I talked to my Japanese conversation partner about the whole fiasco, and she said that banking in Japan is similarly complicated. Asia, I understand that you are into secure banking, but when my bank account is so secure that even I can't use it, there is a problem. On the positive side, however, I have identified the teller at the bank who speaks English, and I am determined to make her my new best friend. My next task will be to set up online banking. Woo!
The Jimjilbang
I think I may have found my new favorite thing here in Korea. A jimjilbang is a large, public bathhouse/sauna where people go to relax and hang out. Basically, you pay a flat entry fee to have unlimited access to a common area (that usually sells snacks and drinks and has TVs to watch) and segregated saunas and hot and cold tubs. The one I went to this afternoon is called "Big Spo" and has a two coffee shops in the lobby and a Chinese restaurant next door. I spend all of my time in the hot tubs and saunas and did not venture into the common area, but it was an awesome and relaxing experience. You are supposed to wash and scrub yourself before getting into any of the tubs, and a lot of people will go in pairs or groups and help each other do that. After a few minutes of standing around and trying to figure out what to do, I just scrubbed down and jumped in a hot tub and it was paradise from there. As the only foreigner in the joint, I got quite a few stares (mostly from the kids), but once I got past that it was alright. Now that I have figured out how to get there on the bus, I will have to go back more often.
It's nice to be able to kick back and just live.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
The Immigrant Experience, Part Two/A experiência do imigrante, segunda parte
There are a lot of things you take for granted in your home country. The list is endless, so I won't bother to go into it here, but readers (and especially those that are also English teachers here in the SK) can undoubtedly think of several right off the top of their heads. When my friend who lives in Beijing came to visit me a few weeks ago, we had a long conversation about how difficult it can be to give an answer to people who ask, "So what is life like [insert country you live in]? How is it different from home?" The fact of the matter is that there are so many things that answer this question that you simply cannot explain; you have to experience them. Wrapping your mind around what it is like to learn to navigate a completely different system, even if it is one in a developed country, is a monumental task unless you have done it yourself.
While Joel has cheerfully told people that he has not experienced any culture shock, I seem to be following the typical model cited by our "training videos" that our hagwon had us watch. (We call him "Frozen Man" because in two of the videos, the image of the perky, metro-sexual Korean American man freezes about three minutes in and you are stuck listening to his obnoxious voice for the rest of the 45-minute presentation.) The curve that Frozen Man showed us in the culture shock presentation showed the initial "honeymoon phase" wearing off about two or three months after moving and "culture shock," defined as constant irritation at barriers encountered in everyday life, setting in.
After my Korean co-worker helped me clear up the bank SNAFU the following week, I tried to purchase airline tickets for our September/October vacation through a Korean airline website. After about ten tries combined between Joel and I trying to buy the tickets at home online (Korean websites only work in Internet Explorer, and you have to have pop-ups enabled to install all of the extra security software, and your purchase times out if you cannot complete it in ten minutes), we went into work and requested the help of the same co-worker who books everyone's travel and helped us resolve our issues at the bank. We went through the same website and tried to buy the same tickets on her laptop, to no avail. After inputting my national ID number (why you need that to buy anything is beyond me) and my bank card information, and going through several pop-up windows to install the security software yet again, and doing it as fast as possible to avoid having my purchase time out, I came to a screen (in Korean, of course) that required me to set up some kind of PIN for online purchases. Even after doing that, my purchase was blocked; apparently, if you want to use your bank card to buy things online, you have to set up online banking separately with your bank. I was so overwhelmed by my inability to making a simple effing purchase on the effing internet when I had the money in my account for it that I nearly had a mental breakdown in front of all my coworkers. I stormed out of the office and into the bathroom and, for the second time in a month, just cried.
Side note: I found out later that many Korean websites require you to input your national ID number because they only allow native Koreans to make purchases; if your number identifies you as a foreign national, you cannot make a purchase. Back home, all you need to buy something on Amazon is an address and a credit card. WTF, Korea.
My biggest bout with "culture shock" by far was my epic battle to get information about our health insurance policy. It used to be the law here in Korea that all employers were required to enroll foreign national employees into the National Health Insurance. Legislation was passed in 2007 that allowed them to not do so if it is agreed to under contract; however, most people are not aware of this change and will still tell English teachers that their hagwons are breaking the law if they do not enroll them in the NHI. When we signed our contracts with our school, however, it specifically stated that we would be provided with insurance through a private company, so they are definitely not breaking the law. When we got our first paychecks, I saw that there was no deduction for our policy, so I asked our head teacher about it, and she explained that the school was paying the entire premium. Fine, I said, but can I have some kind of proof of coverage?
And then the struggle began.
A simple request for a health insurance card, or even just a document with a policy number, turned into a mandatory meeting for all foreign teachers where a generic memo with an explanation of the coverage limits of our policy was handed out. They explained to us what was covered (and what was not) and asked if there were any questions. I raised my hand. "Can you give us our policy number?"
The school administrator stared at me. "Why do you need that?"
"Just to have," I responded. "I want to have all of the information."
"I don't have it now, but if you need it, we can give it to you," he said.
"You don't need it," one of my co-workers explained to me. "You just bring in your receipts and they reimburse you."
They went on to explain that if we had a doctor or hospital visit, we would have to pay out of pocket. We would then bring them the receipts, and they would take care of filing the claim for us. I raised my hand again.
"Can we file the claim ourselves if we want to?"
Now I started to get some raised eyebrows. "You can if you want to," the head teacher explained, "but we can do it for you. It is easier for you this way."
I sat quietly through the rest of the meeting and turned the information over in my head. I had heard stories of hagwons lying to English teachers about providing health insurance, or dropping their coverage a few months into their contract, or simply not providing it at all, and while our school is respected and well-established, my instincts to make sure everything was "kosher" were kicking in.
After some more nagging, I finally got our group policy number, and so one morning I tried to call the company and reach someone in customer service who could speak English and verify the policy. After pressing the button indicated on the phone menu for English language service, I waited.
Customer service rep (CSR): Yoboseyo? (Hello?)
me: Ne, yoboseyo! Yeongeo haseyo? (Do you speak English?)
CSR: A little.
me: I need to speak to someone in English who can help me with my policy.
CSR: Wait please. [puts me on hold]
Different CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Yes, do you speak English?
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: (louder) I need to speak to someone in English!
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Sigh.
I hung up and messaged one of our Korean friends asking him if he would be willing to call for me. When I got his response later that day, he told me that our school was breaking the law and probably committing some kind of tax evasion. Back to square one.
The following week, I tried again.
Customer service rep (CSR): Yoboseyo?
me: Do you speak English?
CSR: Yes.
me: Okay, I need to speak to someone who can verify my policy.
CSR: What kind of policy?
me: Health insurance.
CSR: Okay, hold please. [puts me on hold]
Different CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Yes, I need to verify my health insurance policy.
CSR: Do you have the policy number?
me: Yes. [I read the policy number to him.]
CSR: Okay, I will transfer you to someone in that department. [puts me on hold again]
Yet another CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Yes, do you speak English?
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: (louder) I need to speak to someone in English!
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: (louder still) Hello?
CSR: [click]
I stared at the Skype window for a few minutes, then got dressed and stormed off to E-mart (about a 2-km walk) to buy chicken and a jar of curry sauce. In the checkout line I realized I didn't have my wallet...because I'd taken it out at home to pull out our health insurance policy number. It was everything I could do to not throw a fit in the store.
Equally frustrating has been trying to explain to people why these encounters make me so upset. I went from being a fully capable and independent adult in my home country to not being able to take care of simple things (like opening the kind of bank account I want) or get a simple piece of information (like details on my health insurance policy) on my own, because I don't speak the language. Some days I feel as though I have been robbed of self-sufficiency and reduced to being a child, or a petulant teenager at best. It is not helped by the Confucian and paternalistic culture here: while my employers are certainly well-meaning in offering to file my health insurance claims form me, it is all I can do to not feel patronized. They simply cannot understand a desire for privacy when it comes to my health, or my insistence on having the policy information (rather than just trusting them that it is provided), or even just wanting to be able to do things on my own.
I ultimately found my answers at the Gwangju International Center (GIC), a non-profit center staffed by volunteers that provides services for expats living in the city. They do everything from culture lectures to day-trip tours in the region to Korean language lessons. They also offer free counseling services to anyone with employment or legal disputes, or anyone who needs Korean language assistance with situations like mine. When I explained my dilemma to the coordinator (a very nice Vietnamese woman), she instantly understood. A Korean volunteer took my written questions and policy number, got on the phone, and in about 15 minutes had all the information I wanted and had been struggling to get for weeks. And yes, we do have a health insurance policy.
Ultimately, this particular story had a happy ending. But the whole thing has pushed me to think deeply about the "immigrant experience" and the debates, particularly on health and rights to privacy with regard to immigrants, that I paid so little attention to back home. I have been thinking seriously about volunteering with the GIC or another organization that serves migrant women, even with as little free time as we already have. I think it would be worth it to help others work through "culture shock" - the experiences of confronting what should be a simple task that actually just makes you go, "WTF, Korea."
While Joel has cheerfully told people that he has not experienced any culture shock, I seem to be following the typical model cited by our "training videos" that our hagwon had us watch. (We call him "Frozen Man" because in two of the videos, the image of the perky, metro-sexual Korean American man freezes about three minutes in and you are stuck listening to his obnoxious voice for the rest of the 45-minute presentation.) The curve that Frozen Man showed us in the culture shock presentation showed the initial "honeymoon phase" wearing off about two or three months after moving and "culture shock," defined as constant irritation at barriers encountered in everyday life, setting in.
After my Korean co-worker helped me clear up the bank SNAFU the following week, I tried to purchase airline tickets for our September/October vacation through a Korean airline website. After about ten tries combined between Joel and I trying to buy the tickets at home online (Korean websites only work in Internet Explorer, and you have to have pop-ups enabled to install all of the extra security software, and your purchase times out if you cannot complete it in ten minutes), we went into work and requested the help of the same co-worker who books everyone's travel and helped us resolve our issues at the bank. We went through the same website and tried to buy the same tickets on her laptop, to no avail. After inputting my national ID number (why you need that to buy anything is beyond me) and my bank card information, and going through several pop-up windows to install the security software yet again, and doing it as fast as possible to avoid having my purchase time out, I came to a screen (in Korean, of course) that required me to set up some kind of PIN for online purchases. Even after doing that, my purchase was blocked; apparently, if you want to use your bank card to buy things online, you have to set up online banking separately with your bank. I was so overwhelmed by my inability to making a simple effing purchase on the effing internet when I had the money in my account for it that I nearly had a mental breakdown in front of all my coworkers. I stormed out of the office and into the bathroom and, for the second time in a month, just cried.
Side note: I found out later that many Korean websites require you to input your national ID number because they only allow native Koreans to make purchases; if your number identifies you as a foreign national, you cannot make a purchase. Back home, all you need to buy something on Amazon is an address and a credit card. WTF, Korea.
My biggest bout with "culture shock" by far was my epic battle to get information about our health insurance policy. It used to be the law here in Korea that all employers were required to enroll foreign national employees into the National Health Insurance. Legislation was passed in 2007 that allowed them to not do so if it is agreed to under contract; however, most people are not aware of this change and will still tell English teachers that their hagwons are breaking the law if they do not enroll them in the NHI. When we signed our contracts with our school, however, it specifically stated that we would be provided with insurance through a private company, so they are definitely not breaking the law. When we got our first paychecks, I saw that there was no deduction for our policy, so I asked our head teacher about it, and she explained that the school was paying the entire premium. Fine, I said, but can I have some kind of proof of coverage?
And then the struggle began.
A simple request for a health insurance card, or even just a document with a policy number, turned into a mandatory meeting for all foreign teachers where a generic memo with an explanation of the coverage limits of our policy was handed out. They explained to us what was covered (and what was not) and asked if there were any questions. I raised my hand. "Can you give us our policy number?"
The school administrator stared at me. "Why do you need that?"
"Just to have," I responded. "I want to have all of the information."
"I don't have it now, but if you need it, we can give it to you," he said.
"You don't need it," one of my co-workers explained to me. "You just bring in your receipts and they reimburse you."
They went on to explain that if we had a doctor or hospital visit, we would have to pay out of pocket. We would then bring them the receipts, and they would take care of filing the claim for us. I raised my hand again.
"Can we file the claim ourselves if we want to?"
Now I started to get some raised eyebrows. "You can if you want to," the head teacher explained, "but we can do it for you. It is easier for you this way."
I sat quietly through the rest of the meeting and turned the information over in my head. I had heard stories of hagwons lying to English teachers about providing health insurance, or dropping their coverage a few months into their contract, or simply not providing it at all, and while our school is respected and well-established, my instincts to make sure everything was "kosher" were kicking in.
After some more nagging, I finally got our group policy number, and so one morning I tried to call the company and reach someone in customer service who could speak English and verify the policy. After pressing the button indicated on the phone menu for English language service, I waited.
Customer service rep (CSR): Yoboseyo? (Hello?)
me: Ne, yoboseyo! Yeongeo haseyo? (Do you speak English?)
CSR: A little.
me: I need to speak to someone in English who can help me with my policy.
CSR: Wait please. [puts me on hold]
Different CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Yes, do you speak English?
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: (louder) I need to speak to someone in English!
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Sigh.
I hung up and messaged one of our Korean friends asking him if he would be willing to call for me. When I got his response later that day, he told me that our school was breaking the law and probably committing some kind of tax evasion. Back to square one.
 |
| WTF, Korea. |
The following week, I tried again.
Customer service rep (CSR): Yoboseyo?
me: Do you speak English?
CSR: Yes.
me: Okay, I need to speak to someone who can verify my policy.
CSR: What kind of policy?
me: Health insurance.
CSR: Okay, hold please. [puts me on hold]
Different CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Yes, I need to verify my health insurance policy.
CSR: Do you have the policy number?
me: Yes. [I read the policy number to him.]
CSR: Okay, I will transfer you to someone in that department. [puts me on hold again]
Yet another CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: Yes, do you speak English?
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: (louder) I need to speak to someone in English!
CSR: Yoboseyo?
me: (louder still) Hello?
CSR: [click]
I stared at the Skype window for a few minutes, then got dressed and stormed off to E-mart (about a 2-km walk) to buy chicken and a jar of curry sauce. In the checkout line I realized I didn't have my wallet...because I'd taken it out at home to pull out our health insurance policy number. It was everything I could do to not throw a fit in the store.
Equally frustrating has been trying to explain to people why these encounters make me so upset. I went from being a fully capable and independent adult in my home country to not being able to take care of simple things (like opening the kind of bank account I want) or get a simple piece of information (like details on my health insurance policy) on my own, because I don't speak the language. Some days I feel as though I have been robbed of self-sufficiency and reduced to being a child, or a petulant teenager at best. It is not helped by the Confucian and paternalistic culture here: while my employers are certainly well-meaning in offering to file my health insurance claims form me, it is all I can do to not feel patronized. They simply cannot understand a desire for privacy when it comes to my health, or my insistence on having the policy information (rather than just trusting them that it is provided), or even just wanting to be able to do things on my own.
I ultimately found my answers at the Gwangju International Center (GIC), a non-profit center staffed by volunteers that provides services for expats living in the city. They do everything from culture lectures to day-trip tours in the region to Korean language lessons. They also offer free counseling services to anyone with employment or legal disputes, or anyone who needs Korean language assistance with situations like mine. When I explained my dilemma to the coordinator (a very nice Vietnamese woman), she instantly understood. A Korean volunteer took my written questions and policy number, got on the phone, and in about 15 minutes had all the information I wanted and had been struggling to get for weeks. And yes, we do have a health insurance policy.
Ultimately, this particular story had a happy ending. But the whole thing has pushed me to think deeply about the "immigrant experience" and the debates, particularly on health and rights to privacy with regard to immigrants, that I paid so little attention to back home. I have been thinking seriously about volunteering with the GIC or another organization that serves migrant women, even with as little free time as we already have. I think it would be worth it to help others work through "culture shock" - the experiences of confronting what should be a simple task that actually just makes you go, "WTF, Korea."
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Information Crusader/Cruzadora de Informação
For whatever reason, I always find myself writing extensively researched responses to inaccurate statements or articles. For example, when a doctor I saw in college told me that NFP (that's family planning based on a woman's natural fertility signs) had a "failure rate," I spent hours researching and writing an e-mail to him comparing the efficacy and long-term health effects of hormonal birth control (which also has has a "failure rate") to natural methods. Maybe it's a tick, but whenever I see something that is wrong or misleading, I get annoyed.
This time it was two articles in Gwangju News, a monthly magazine put out by the Gwangju International Center, a non-profit organization that serves the expat community here. The magazine has great coverage of local artists and events, and for the most part is a pretty good read. However, it is reliant on volunteer contributions and compiled and edited by volunteers, so I guess some questionable stuff occasionally makes it through. The articles, on the "dangers" of water fluoridation ("Don't Drink the Water!" in the April issue) and "radioactive seafood" ("Fukushima: A Tsunami of Radioactive Seafood?" in the August issue) really raised my public health hackles, so I wrote an e-mail to the editorial team expressing my concerns. I have posted it below for your amusement.
Dear Gwangju News Editorial Team,
My husband and I recently moved to Gwangju and joined the GIC, and we have been reading the Gwangju News with great interest. For the most part, we like the magazine: it has great coverage of the arts and culture scene here, and we really appreciate most of the features. However, we (and I in particular, as a public health professional by training) have been concerned at some of the misinformation and fearmongering in a few of your recent articles, specifically the ones on water fluoridation and radiation in seafood.
Let me begin by providing my credentials: I have a B.S. in Biomedical Science and a Master of Public Health (MPH), which a focus on Environmental Health. After I received my MPH in December of 2008, I worked for one year as a fellow with the CDC's National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, and more recently, for two years as a consultant to the Texas Department of State Health Services on a project with the Agency for Toxic Substances and Diseases Registry, a sister agency of the CDC. I have also been an active member of the American Public Health Association's International Health Section for the last two and a half years, serving as the Communications Committee chair since the Annual Meeting in 2010, and have written public health content for blogs with the International Health Section, Medscape, and End the Neglect (which focuses on neglected tropical diseases). As someone who has worked in public health communications, I can particularly appreciate the value of accurate portrayal of public health issues and the harms that can be caused by misinformation, even from well-meaning individuals.
The Fluoride Article
The first article that I feel was misrepresentative of a public health issue, and the one that bothered me the most, was the article on fluoride ("Don't Drink the Water!") in the April 2012 issue. First off, there were several blatantly incorrect statements:
1. "adding fluoride to water constitutes forced drugging" - Frankly, this is ridiculous. Fluoride cannot be called a drug in any way, as it does not alter the body's function or affect behavior. It is a naturally-occurring mineral and cannot be called a drug any more than magnesium, iron, or calcium can. Therefore it is not in any way "illegal" to add it to the water supply.
2. "The US Centers for Disease Control has labeled fluoride as a level four hazardous substance" - This is also false. ATSDR has classified fluorine, hydrogen fluorine, and hydrofluoric acid (all industrial compounds) as highly toxic and hazardous substances (because they are), but fluoride is a different compound entirely. To put it in perspective, pure sodium metal is highly corrosive, but we eat it all the time as sodium chloride (table salt). For more information, see ATSDR's overview here: http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/substances/toxsubstance.asp?toxid=38
There were also several misleading statements, including references to Nazi concentration camps, mind control, and recent legislation passed in the US. To clarify, the idea that the Nazis put fluoride in camp water to control prisoners is an urban myth that has no basis in historical fact (more information on this: http://www.politifact.com/florida/statements/2011/oct/06/critics-water-fluoridation/truth-about-fluoride-doesnt-include-nazi-myth/). Besides, even if the Nazis fluoridated the drinking water in the camps, they also provided medical care to sick or injured prisoners. Should we then say that treating people for tuberculosis, or setting broken bones, or providing universal health care, is unethical because it was done in a concentration camp? (For an in-depth account of life in a concentration camp, I recommend Survival in Auschwitz by Primo Levi.)
The truth is that the CDC has hailed public water fluoridation as one of the ten greatest public health achievements of the 20th century, and multiple respected public health and professional associations have come out in support of it, basing their statements on multiple reputable scientific studies and meta-analyses. In summary, the article on fluoridated drinking was poorly researched, based on misinformation, and completely fallacious.
More information from the CDC: http://www.cdc.gov/fluoridation/
Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_fluoridation and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_fluoridation_controversy
The Radioactive Seafood Article
This article was not nearly as disturbing, and I can appreciate its timeliness as the international community continues to debate the pros and cons of nuclear power in the aftermath of the Fukushima disaster. However, I still felt that the information what somewhat misrepresented and misleading.
1. "imagine fish that swam through irradiated waters for 6,000 miles being...served to thousands of people" - This is a grossly inaccurate statement. First of all, "irradiated" means that something has been exposed to radiation, usually intentionally. While some radiation from the Fukushima plant was released into the ocean, this statement implies that the entire Pacific Ocean was exposed to colossal radiation waves.
2. "Thailand, the Philippines, and Malaysia...have been proactive in banning Japanese food imports for fear of radioactive contamination" - This fails to take into account ulterior motives or politics. Japan is an industrialized nation with a highly efficient agricultural production system, so naturally they export a lot of produce and food products. It is easy for other Southeast Asian countries to use the Fukushima disaster as an excuse to ban food imports in order to protect their own rice farmers, for example, without drawing international condemnation for unfair international trade policies or foreign policy consequences.
3. The article makes repeated references to finding "trace amounts" of radioactive contaminants in seafood and citing this as a reason for concern. The term "trace amount" is indicates that the compound is present in the sample being tested, but at a level that is barely above the detection limit. What this means is that some machine could pick up some tiny amount of the compound in some of the samples.
The Japanese government destroyed all of the harvested produce that had radioactive materials above its own legal limits, which are even lower that international standards set by the World Health Organization. Furthermore, to expect no radiation in any of your food is ludicrous; radiation occurs naturally throughout nature and can be found in bananas and granite countertops (for additional perspective, refer to this chart: http://xkcd.com/radiation/). As the article itself mentioned, we are exposed to radiation at much higher levels during medical procedures and airline flights that has been detected in any tuna samples. To generate public fear about it is unproductive and potentially harmful to farmers and fishers, as avoidance of these foods will affect their livelihoods.
I understand that the magazine relies on contributions from volunteers and that people should be able to express, and write about, their opinions freely. However, these articles in particular were poorly researched and the ignorance of the authors painfully obvious to anyone with a scientific background. Neither of them listed any education or training in public health, environmental science, or (in the case of the radiation article), nuclear science. As editors, I know you understand the importance of making sure your contributions are factually accurate and well-researched. If you receive any contributions in the future about health-related articles, I would be more than happy to review them for any misinformation or inaccuracies.
This time it was two articles in Gwangju News, a monthly magazine put out by the Gwangju International Center, a non-profit organization that serves the expat community here. The magazine has great coverage of local artists and events, and for the most part is a pretty good read. However, it is reliant on volunteer contributions and compiled and edited by volunteers, so I guess some questionable stuff occasionally makes it through. The articles, on the "dangers" of water fluoridation ("Don't Drink the Water!" in the April issue) and "radioactive seafood" ("Fukushima: A Tsunami of Radioactive Seafood?" in the August issue) really raised my public health hackles, so I wrote an e-mail to the editorial team expressing my concerns. I have posted it below for your amusement.
Dear Gwangju News Editorial Team,
My husband and I recently moved to Gwangju and joined the GIC, and we have been reading the Gwangju News with great interest. For the most part, we like the magazine: it has great coverage of the arts and culture scene here, and we really appreciate most of the features. However, we (and I in particular, as a public health professional by training) have been concerned at some of the misinformation and fearmongering in a few of your recent articles, specifically the ones on water fluoridation and radiation in seafood.
Let me begin by providing my credentials: I have a B.S. in Biomedical Science and a Master of Public Health (MPH), which a focus on Environmental Health. After I received my MPH in December of 2008, I worked for one year as a fellow with the CDC's National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health, and more recently, for two years as a consultant to the Texas Department of State Health Services on a project with the Agency for Toxic Substances and Diseases Registry, a sister agency of the CDC. I have also been an active member of the American Public Health Association's International Health Section for the last two and a half years, serving as the Communications Committee chair since the Annual Meeting in 2010, and have written public health content for blogs with the International Health Section, Medscape, and End the Neglect (which focuses on neglected tropical diseases). As someone who has worked in public health communications, I can particularly appreciate the value of accurate portrayal of public health issues and the harms that can be caused by misinformation, even from well-meaning individuals.
The Fluoride Article
The first article that I feel was misrepresentative of a public health issue, and the one that bothered me the most, was the article on fluoride ("Don't Drink the Water!") in the April 2012 issue. First off, there were several blatantly incorrect statements:
1. "adding fluoride to water constitutes forced drugging" - Frankly, this is ridiculous. Fluoride cannot be called a drug in any way, as it does not alter the body's function or affect behavior. It is a naturally-occurring mineral and cannot be called a drug any more than magnesium, iron, or calcium can. Therefore it is not in any way "illegal" to add it to the water supply.
2. "The US Centers for Disease Control has labeled fluoride as a level four hazardous substance" - This is also false. ATSDR has classified fluorine, hydrogen fluorine, and hydrofluoric acid (all industrial compounds) as highly toxic and hazardous substances (because they are), but fluoride is a different compound entirely. To put it in perspective, pure sodium metal is highly corrosive, but we eat it all the time as sodium chloride (table salt). For more information, see ATSDR's overview here: http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/substances/toxsubstance.asp?toxid=38
There were also several misleading statements, including references to Nazi concentration camps, mind control, and recent legislation passed in the US. To clarify, the idea that the Nazis put fluoride in camp water to control prisoners is an urban myth that has no basis in historical fact (more information on this: http://www.politifact.com/florida/statements/2011/oct/06/critics-water-fluoridation/truth-about-fluoride-doesnt-include-nazi-myth/). Besides, even if the Nazis fluoridated the drinking water in the camps, they also provided medical care to sick or injured prisoners. Should we then say that treating people for tuberculosis, or setting broken bones, or providing universal health care, is unethical because it was done in a concentration camp? (For an in-depth account of life in a concentration camp, I recommend Survival in Auschwitz by Primo Levi.)
The truth is that the CDC has hailed public water fluoridation as one of the ten greatest public health achievements of the 20th century, and multiple respected public health and professional associations have come out in support of it, basing their statements on multiple reputable scientific studies and meta-analyses. In summary, the article on fluoridated drinking was poorly researched, based on misinformation, and completely fallacious.
More information from the CDC: http://www.cdc.gov/fluoridation/
Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_fluoridation and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_fluoridation_controversy
The Radioactive Seafood Article
This article was not nearly as disturbing, and I can appreciate its timeliness as the international community continues to debate the pros and cons of nuclear power in the aftermath of the Fukushima disaster. However, I still felt that the information what somewhat misrepresented and misleading.
1. "imagine fish that swam through irradiated waters for 6,000 miles being...served to thousands of people" - This is a grossly inaccurate statement. First of all, "irradiated" means that something has been exposed to radiation, usually intentionally. While some radiation from the Fukushima plant was released into the ocean, this statement implies that the entire Pacific Ocean was exposed to colossal radiation waves.
2. "Thailand, the Philippines, and Malaysia...have been proactive in banning Japanese food imports for fear of radioactive contamination" - This fails to take into account ulterior motives or politics. Japan is an industrialized nation with a highly efficient agricultural production system, so naturally they export a lot of produce and food products. It is easy for other Southeast Asian countries to use the Fukushima disaster as an excuse to ban food imports in order to protect their own rice farmers, for example, without drawing international condemnation for unfair international trade policies or foreign policy consequences.
3. The article makes repeated references to finding "trace amounts" of radioactive contaminants in seafood and citing this as a reason for concern. The term "trace amount" is indicates that the compound is present in the sample being tested, but at a level that is barely above the detection limit. What this means is that some machine could pick up some tiny amount of the compound in some of the samples.
The Japanese government destroyed all of the harvested produce that had radioactive materials above its own legal limits, which are even lower that international standards set by the World Health Organization. Furthermore, to expect no radiation in any of your food is ludicrous; radiation occurs naturally throughout nature and can be found in bananas and granite countertops (for additional perspective, refer to this chart: http://xkcd.com/radiation/). As the article itself mentioned, we are exposed to radiation at much higher levels during medical procedures and airline flights that has been detected in any tuna samples. To generate public fear about it is unproductive and potentially harmful to farmers and fishers, as avoidance of these foods will affect their livelihoods.
I understand that the magazine relies on contributions from volunteers and that people should be able to express, and write about, their opinions freely. However, these articles in particular were poorly researched and the ignorance of the authors painfully obvious to anyone with a scientific background. Neither of them listed any education or training in public health, environmental science, or (in the case of the radiation article), nuclear science. As editors, I know you understand the importance of making sure your contributions are factually accurate and well-researched. If you receive any contributions in the future about health-related articles, I would be more than happy to review them for any misinformation or inaccuracies.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Beach Girl Turned Hiking Enthusiast: Summer Vacation in Jeju/Menina de praia virada entusiasta de caminhadas: Férias de verão em Jeju
Our long-awaited and eagerly anticipated summer vacation to Jeju Island, Korea's little slice of paradise just off the southwestern tip of the country, has come and gone. Joel and I had six days off of work this week, so we (and pretty much everyone else from our hogwan who booked their tickets far enough in advance) retreated to this lovely sub-tropical isle for some much-needed time off. Our dear readers may have noticed that this blog has not been updated for a while; this is because, in addition to it being the end of the session and thus exam time, the school implemented some changes to the class schedule that upset a lot of the staff. That, combined with a lot of turnover (nearly all of the foreign teachers begin and end their contracts during the summer months) and the usual shortages of copy paper and toner, created a somewhat toxic environment. We were all pretty stressed by last Monday.
Tuesday: Arrival by Ferry and Jeju City (제주시)
We all arrived at the island via a ferry that one of our Korean co-teachers, Hanna, booked for us. (Hanna is actually a native of Jeju and has been very helpful to us in making travel arrangements, in addition to banking and pretty much everything else.) We had to be up at 5 a.m. to catch the free shuttle bus that took us to the little coastal town where the ferry departed from, but once we got moving it was very comfortable (and a beautiful ride).
We docked at about 11 a.m., and then Joel and I hopped a bus (with the help of a different co-worker this time) to Jeju City, the largest city on the island, while our co-workers caught another ferry to Udo Island (another, smaller island off the east coast of Jeju) to go camping. We arrived in town about an hour later and, after lunch and checking into our hostel, set out on foot to explore the city. We walked along the seawall and out to a pier with a lighthouse. That evening we had black pork, meat from a variety of pig that the island is well-known for. Yummy!
Wednesday: Inseong-ri (인성리) and Cheonjiyeon (천지연) Waterfall
We spent most of our trip at a hostel called Island Guesthouse. The guesthouse is in a small village called Inseong-ri, about ten minutes away from Moseulpo (모슬포). While it is pretty much in the middle of nowhere, the house itself had a lot of character, run by a very motherly Malaysian woman named Ailing. We met some really interesting people while we were there, too, including a guy from Texas who recently moved to Gwangju!
Once we checked in, we headed to Seogwipo, which is a smaller town on the southern coast of the island and the top honeymoon destination for Koreans. The town several romantic attractions, including a teddy bear museum (which we did not go to), a sex museum (more on that later), lots of shopping, and several waterfalls. We decided to just kind of meander and eventually found our way to Cheonjiyeon falls. (As a lover of waterfalls, I was kind of obsessed with seeing as many as possible on the trip.) It a smaller waterfall, but it was still lovely.
After some fried chicken in Inseong-ri, we returned to our hostel for card and board games. I learned a new game called "Shithead" from some very friendly Irish people while Joel played hardball with the rest of the guys in Monopoly.
Thursday: Typhoon and the Olle 10 Hiking Route
Our original plans for hiking on Jeju were to climb Mt. Halla, a dormant volcano and Korea's highest peak, on Thursday. There are several trails up the mountain, including one that very gradually goes up (and supposedly doesn't confront you with DEATH at every switchback like Kalalau). Unfortunately, those plans were thwarted by a freaking typhoon that swung just south of Jeju on Wednesday night and pounded us with rain and high winds until Thursday morning.
By late Thursday morning, however, it looked like it was starting to clear up, so Joel and I decided to hike the Olle 10 route along the Yongmeori (용머리) coast, which Ailing recommended to us, instead. The Olle routes are a series of hiking trails around the island, anywhere from 10 to 20 km (I think). There are currently 19 of them, and they are working on the last two so that hikers can circumvent the entire island. Anyway, our particular route was 15 km long and took us along several beaches, through some wooded areas and a few coastal towns, and some WWII sites and farm fields toward the end. Aside from the humidity and the wind, it was beautiful! And thus I (re)discovered my intense love for hiking (which has lain dormant ever since I nearly died on Kauai). We started just after lunch and finished the trail around 6:30.
Friday: Cheonjeyeon (천재연) Waterfall, the Museum of Sex and Health, and Jeongbang (정방) Waterfall
The weather was sunny again by Friday, but since we were pretty tired from our previous day's hike (and Joel's feet were rapidly blistering from all of the walking that I had been making him do), we decided to stay in Seogwipo on Friday and check out the other two waterfalls and the sex museum (which, incidentally, still involved a lot more walking than Joel bargained for). First, we went to Cheonjeyeon falls, which is a set of three waterfalls next to a Buddhist temple (and overseen by a massive, and massively tacky, metal bridge). Of course, the waterfalls were gorgeous, but we had to scale probably 500 stairs to see all three of them. After that, we grabbed some abalone porridge for lunch and made our way to the Museum of Sex and Health.
In case the existence of a "Museum of Sex and Health" (and in Korea, no less), has left you scratching your head, you are certainly not alone. A brief history: Jeju has been a very popular honeymoon destination for Koreans for a long time; however, Korea's extremely conservative and heavily Confucian culture made it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for young couples to learn anything whatsoever about the birds and the bees. A few avant-garde hotels began hosting some really, ahem, sensual shows for their guests that doubled as inspiration and education - and thus, Jeju's "sex culture" (or something) was born. The island is home to two main sex attractions: Jeju Loveland, an outdoor sculpture park with sex-themed art (which we did not visit), and The Museum of Sex and Health (which, as the world's largest sex museum, I am appalled that it does not have its own Wikipedia article). Its purpose is to serve as an educational facility with material and displays on absolutely every single sex-related topic you could think of (and plenty that you could not have ever thought of, even on drugs). You are not supposed to take pictures inside the museum (but I did anyway). So much has undoubtedly been written about this museum that it would be absolutely pointless for me to describe it here. If you're curious, just Google it.
After the museum, we went to the third and final waterfall, Jeongbang falls, which empties directly into the sea. It was the largest and most impressive waterfall of all three, and the only one where people were allowed to swim. It was also Joel's favorite.
Saturday: Seongsan Ilchulbong and Return to Jeju City (제주시)
On our last day, we decided to head to Seongsan to climb Ilchulbong, which is a crater formed by a hydroeruption and of the three UNESCO-designated sights on the island (and, sadly, the only one we visited). Yet another hike up several hundred more stairs brought us to the crater, which can only be seen from a viewing platform (walking into the actual crater is prohibited to preserve the delicate ecosystem there). We had a fabulous view of Udo and the ocean. Then we headed down and back to Jeju City for one last evening in town. We spent a little bit of time in one of the casinos (which is only open to foreigners - gambling is illegal in Korea - who were nearly exclusively Chinese). We finished our vacation by firing off Roman candles on the waterfront.
We caught a flight home mid-morning and came back to do laundry, cook dinner, and tidy up the house. I know this entry has been long, but I wanted to get it all down while I still remembered everything. It was a wonderful experience - we are already thinking about when we can go back so that we can climb Mt. Halla and hopefully visit the lava tube caves (the other two UNESCO sites). I took a metric shit-ton of pictures, which Joel will hopefully post soon.
제주,감사합니다!
Tuesday: Arrival by Ferry and Jeju City (제주시)
We all arrived at the island via a ferry that one of our Korean co-teachers, Hanna, booked for us. (Hanna is actually a native of Jeju and has been very helpful to us in making travel arrangements, in addition to banking and pretty much everything else.) We had to be up at 5 a.m. to catch the free shuttle bus that took us to the little coastal town where the ferry departed from, but once we got moving it was very comfortable (and a beautiful ride).
We docked at about 11 a.m., and then Joel and I hopped a bus (with the help of a different co-worker this time) to Jeju City, the largest city on the island, while our co-workers caught another ferry to Udo Island (another, smaller island off the east coast of Jeju) to go camping. We arrived in town about an hour later and, after lunch and checking into our hostel, set out on foot to explore the city. We walked along the seawall and out to a pier with a lighthouse. That evening we had black pork, meat from a variety of pig that the island is well-known for. Yummy!
 |
| They even provided an apron for me so that I wouldn't stain my nice white shirt! |
We spent most of our trip at a hostel called Island Guesthouse. The guesthouse is in a small village called Inseong-ri, about ten minutes away from Moseulpo (모슬포). While it is pretty much in the middle of nowhere, the house itself had a lot of character, run by a very motherly Malaysian woman named Ailing. We met some really interesting people while we were there, too, including a guy from Texas who recently moved to Gwangju!
Once we checked in, we headed to Seogwipo, which is a smaller town on the southern coast of the island and the top honeymoon destination for Koreans. The town several romantic attractions, including a teddy bear museum (which we did not go to), a sex museum (more on that later), lots of shopping, and several waterfalls. We decided to just kind of meander and eventually found our way to Cheonjiyeon falls. (As a lover of waterfalls, I was kind of obsessed with seeing as many as possible on the trip.) It a smaller waterfall, but it was still lovely.
After some fried chicken in Inseong-ri, we returned to our hostel for card and board games. I learned a new game called "Shithead" from some very friendly Irish people while Joel played hardball with the rest of the guys in Monopoly.
Thursday: Typhoon and the Olle 10 Hiking Route
Our original plans for hiking on Jeju were to climb Mt. Halla, a dormant volcano and Korea's highest peak, on Thursday. There are several trails up the mountain, including one that very gradually goes up (and supposedly doesn't confront you with DEATH at every switchback like Kalalau). Unfortunately, those plans were thwarted by a freaking typhoon that swung just south of Jeju on Wednesday night and pounded us with rain and high winds until Thursday morning.
 |
| Nothing like a typhoon to spoil your mountain climbing plans. |
Friday: Cheonjeyeon (천재연) Waterfall, the Museum of Sex and Health, and Jeongbang (정방) Waterfall
The weather was sunny again by Friday, but since we were pretty tired from our previous day's hike (and Joel's feet were rapidly blistering from all of the walking that I had been making him do), we decided to stay in Seogwipo on Friday and check out the other two waterfalls and the sex museum (which, incidentally, still involved a lot more walking than Joel bargained for). First, we went to Cheonjeyeon falls, which is a set of three waterfalls next to a Buddhist temple (and overseen by a massive, and massively tacky, metal bridge). Of course, the waterfalls were gorgeous, but we had to scale probably 500 stairs to see all three of them. After that, we grabbed some abalone porridge for lunch and made our way to the Museum of Sex and Health.
In case the existence of a "Museum of Sex and Health" (and in Korea, no less), has left you scratching your head, you are certainly not alone. A brief history: Jeju has been a very popular honeymoon destination for Koreans for a long time; however, Korea's extremely conservative and heavily Confucian culture made it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for young couples to learn anything whatsoever about the birds and the bees. A few avant-garde hotels began hosting some really, ahem, sensual shows for their guests that doubled as inspiration and education - and thus, Jeju's "sex culture" (or something) was born. The island is home to two main sex attractions: Jeju Loveland, an outdoor sculpture park with sex-themed art (which we did not visit), and The Museum of Sex and Health (which, as the world's largest sex museum, I am appalled that it does not have its own Wikipedia article). Its purpose is to serve as an educational facility with material and displays on absolutely every single sex-related topic you could think of (and plenty that you could not have ever thought of, even on drugs). You are not supposed to take pictures inside the museum (but I did anyway). So much has undoubtedly been written about this museum that it would be absolutely pointless for me to describe it here. If you're curious, just Google it.
 |
| The bus stop. |
Saturday: Seongsan Ilchulbong and Return to Jeju City (제주시)
On our last day, we decided to head to Seongsan to climb Ilchulbong, which is a crater formed by a hydroeruption and of the three UNESCO-designated sights on the island (and, sadly, the only one we visited). Yet another hike up several hundred more stairs brought us to the crater, which can only be seen from a viewing platform (walking into the actual crater is prohibited to preserve the delicate ecosystem there). We had a fabulous view of Udo and the ocean. Then we headed down and back to Jeju City for one last evening in town. We spent a little bit of time in one of the casinos (which is only open to foreigners - gambling is illegal in Korea - who were nearly exclusively Chinese). We finished our vacation by firing off Roman candles on the waterfront.
We caught a flight home mid-morning and came back to do laundry, cook dinner, and tidy up the house. I know this entry has been long, but I wanted to get it all down while I still remembered everything. It was a wonderful experience - we are already thinking about when we can go back so that we can climb Mt. Halla and hopefully visit the lava tube caves (the other two UNESCO sites). I took a metric shit-ton of pictures, which Joel will hopefully post soon.
제주,감사합니다!
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