The Ugly Truth

Much to my surprise, I've gotten quite a few e-mails regarding my original post "The Art of Poker," in which I vaguely describe my past experiences in Korea.  Most e-mails are questions resembling, "What the fuck are you talking about?" or "So you came the second time on a tourist visa?" or "What do you mean, check-raised by Korea?"

Yes, most of what I wrote there doesn't make much sense.  And it was never really meant to.  I was mainly curious if there was anyone else out there like me:  obsessed with poker and in Korea.  It seems there are quite a few of you out there.  My first post was 17 days ago and the site's gotten over 800 visitors.  A much better response than I expected.

For anyone who is curious, I will indulge myself and reveal the whole rotten truth of the matter, and hopefully make some sense out of my first post in the process.  Enjoy...

Round 1:

I first came to Korea in March 2007.  My friend Kyle had been teaching in Busan for over a year and convinced me to do the same.  I'd been a bit of a vagabond since graduating college in 2003 and I was getting tired of being planted in Minneapolis.  I was shocked how easy it was to get a job in Korea immediately after sending a few e-mails to some recruiters who'd posted "Teach English in Korea" ads on Craig's List.  Within hours, my phone was ringing and strangely-accented women were frantically asking me all kinds of questions about where I wanted to work, what grade level, how much money I wanted, and when could I start!

All I knew was Busan.  So that's all I said.  What age?  I don't care.  How much money?  However much you can get me.  When can I start?  Now, I guess.  I really didn't give a shit.  Nothing felt better to me than just taking off somewhere new.  I did it all the time.  I quit jobs like I was trying to quit smoking.  Fuck it, I was free and that's how I liked it.

Needless to say, I didn't do my homework.  Within a week I was on a plane.  Something about a Japan-run Visa, money up front, and teaching Kindergarden kids.  Everything seemed fine, I was on a free plane ride across the world to see Kyle, who I hadn't seen in years.

I'd worked with kids sporatically for years, so I had no fears going in about them.  I'd worked mainly with "problem kids."  In residential treatment centers, group homes, sex offender rehabilitation centers.  My first job out of college was teaching middle schoolers in Japan, for Christ's sake, so I thought this would be cake.  It was not.  It was horrible and I don't think I'll ever look at Kindergarden-aged kids the same way again.

As sad as this may sound, I don't even remember the name of the school in Busan.  If I did, I'd be sure to blacklist it wherever possible.  Upon arrival, I met the current foreign Kindergarden teacher, who was actually subbing in from the Hagwon-side of the school.  She related to me that she had also just been fired the week before.  They didn't like her British accent and probably wouldn't even pay her overtime for these Kindergarden classes, she'd said  I didn't ask many questions, but needless to say felt an impending sense of fear and loathing.

There were three classes of Kindergardens, about 10 kids in each class.  In retrospect, they probably weren't a lot worse than most Korean Kindergardener's, but coming from a teaching job in the public schools of rural Japan, these fuckers were monsters.  They couldn't sit still, couldn't be quiet, couldn't care less, and couldn't understand I word I spoke.  On top of all this, I was alone in the classroom.  No discipline help whatsoever.

I was teaching from 9am - 6pm, with an hour lunch break.  I always had a great excuse why I couldn't eat with the kids.  I taught solid classes through the day and was assisted by the other Korean teachers only so far as having a stack of children's books placed on my desk and being told, "teach the students this book."  Within a week, I realized I was in hell, or purgatory at best.  Without a doubt the most miserable job I'd ever had and I despised every moment of it.  To top things off, when I approached my boss about the discipline problems in the classroom, I was told in a nutshell that, "students' mothers pay a lot of money for their kids to come here, so we have deal with them and not complain."  She added that some of the Korean teachers had noticed I did a lot of coloring activities with the kids, and could I try to "challenge" them a little more.

My only solice early on was knowing that I would be going to Japan for my visa within the first couple weeks.  Or so I'd been told.  A couple weeks passed, so I inquired about it.  Yes, yes, of course, but things are very busy now.  Next week, I was told.  Well fuck, alright.  Then another week.  And another.  After the third week, I knew what I had to do.  After the month was up, I'd politely asked to be paid and walk out the door.  Which is exactly what I did.

The month was up and it was lunch break.  I'd approached my boss the day before and asked her if I could be paid the next day.  After some hesitation, she held a meeting with the school owner, and told me yes, that could be arranged.  It was now the moment of truth.  There could be no hesitation.  My story was, it was lunch break, and I wanted to run to the bank downstairs and Western Union a little money home for some bills I hadn't got a chance to pay when I left.  Again, she was hesitant, but went to her desk, pulled out a small shoebox and handed it to me.  "Thanks," I said, and walked out the door.

I took the 5 minute walk to my apartment, sat down on my bed, and opened the shoebox.  What looked like green monopoly money was piled inside.  Jesus, I thought.  2.5 million won in nothing but 10,000 won bills makes you feel like a bazillionare.  I stuffed a handfull into my pockets and buried the rest deep inside my pre-packed backpack from the night before.  I slung the pack on my back, walked to the nearest subway station, and took the train towards Kyle's place.

I spent a few days at Kyle's apartment in a debaucherous, druken state before catching a flight back to Minneapolis.  That, to answer a couple of the e-mails, is how youn get check-raised by Korea.

Round 2:

The second time I came to Korea, it was in August 2009.  Kyle was still here teaching, though now in Seoul.  If you're wondering why I'd ever consider coming back to Korea, let me briefly explain.  I'd been bartending at a "border-town" bar in the Badlands of South Dakota by accident after a backpacking misadventure through the badlands.  I say "border-town" because the Horseshoe Bar where I worked was just across the border of the Pine Ridge Indain Reservation, which, believe it or not, is still dry.  There was a lot of Rez traffic though the bar.  I met a Lakota girl there, in the spring of 2008, and was thrown for a loop, which lasted until August 2009, when I left for Seoul, and actually continues to this day.  We've been together now a little over 3 years.  I will not be going into the hows and whys of all that.  Suffice it to say, I eventually became broke.

I'd done my homework this time, had an E-2 visa, and would be teaching at Jackie's Clinic, a hagwon in Gangnam, from 1-9pm, making 2.5 million a month.  I'd researched the school, talked with the teachers, and it was a fantastic school.  There are ocassionally posts on Dave's for Jackie's that read "Exclusive Writing School in Gangnam."  You would be hard-pressed to find a better work environment or a better owner, Mr. Philip Han.  Class sizes ranged from 1-5 students and the English level of the students was, to me, amazing.

My objective this time was singular.  Money.  15 million won was my goal.  When I reached it, by whatever means, I was leaving.  Plain and simple.  You may frown upon that.  So be it.  I needed money and I knew enough about Korea that I knew this could be done quickly.

Originally, I'd planned to stay 5-6 months, saving everything and playing poker on the side to speed up the process.  I ventured into 7-luck the first weekend and was pleasantly surprised at the poker room.  It was full, the games were deep-stacked, and it was mostly full of what looked like Asian businessman, white English teachers, and young Asian men.  A good combination of pure gamblers, weak players, and adreleline freaks.

The first weekend I made $400 and was thrilled.  The next weekend I made $600.  My third trip there, I played a session from 10pm Friday night to noon Saturday, and cashed out 6 racks of reds - $3000.  Right then, I realized those fuzzy late/early morning hours were the most profitable.  From then on, I started showing up late Friday night around midnight, playing until 7-8am Saturday morning.  From there, I'd go home and sleep until evening.  Wake up, shower, show back up 100% fresh late Saturday and go again until Sunday morning.  I'm really not trying to brag here, but this gave me a huge edge.  While everyone else was drunk, struggling to stay awake, or just trying to get even at 4am, I was light, clear-headed and punished anyone's mistakes.  I'd take a shot of tequilla about once every couple of hours stay loose and to appear slightly drunk to the rest of the table.

Within 3 months, I met my goal.  I had 15 million won stuffed in socks in my dresser, all 50,000 won bills.  I waited about a week until the term was up at Jackie's.  I graded my tests, wrote my reports, got paid one last time, and headed to the airport.  I flew home November 2nd, 2009.

That is how you check-raise Korea.