In My Craft Or Sullen Art

        I’m a pretty creative guy.  Writing, photography- anything that involves self-expression is alright in my book.  So when I heard we were going to have an hour a day of Korean art class, I was excited.  One, I figured it’d break up the monotony of the seven hours of lecture, and two, it seemed like it’d give me a new window into their culture.  Unfortunately, after a couple days of class, I’ve only really learned one thing: Korea’s not ready for my creativity.
        The first day of art class was focused on Korean painting.  I went over to my desk and found a sheet of thin paper, an ink block, a brush, and water.  Our teachers thus far had been pretty fluent in English, but the art teachers didn’t seem to speak a word of it.  So (with the help of a translator) the art lady explained that we’d be painting some kind of flowery nature thing, and then she handed out sample drawings that she’d made.  We all thought this was really cool, until we looked at each other’s paintings and realized they were all exactly the same.  Had she photocopied these things?  Or had she really drawn the same scene again and again?  My question was answered about two seconds later when she sat down at a station and showed us how it was done.  When the painting was finished (it took her less than five minutes), it turned out to be a perfect replica of all the others.  That’s when I should’ve known- Korean art isn’t about individuality.  It’s more like coloring between the lines.
        Anyway, I sat down with my paper in the middle and her painting on the right, and I began.  Big surprise, mine didn't look like hers.  While her lines were narrow and jet black, mine were a watery gray mess.  I finished the painting, but in the end, it just looked awful.  I wanted another shot at it.
        So I picked up another sheet and started drawing the same first couple lines…and then I thought, “You know what?  This doesn’t look like a plant.  It looks like a dolphin.”  In light of this epiphany, I decided to go with an ocean theme.  I drew the water and the sun and a person surfing on a fish.  It wasn’t very good, but it was mine.
        Before long, the instructor started making rounds, and that’s when she spotted my work.
        “Oh no no no no!” she said.  It was like she’d seen a dead baby or something.  She grabbed the painting and pulled it over to her.  And then, in a moment that completely took me by surprise, she started painting over my work.  WHAT??  She drew the same strokes she’d drawn so many times before, except now there was a beach scene in the background.  When she finished, she handed it back to me, smiled, and walked away.  I was in disbelief.

My genius defiled

        Still, I went back to art the next day with a positive attitude.  Maybe the painting teacher didn’t appreciate my originality, but now we were doing something totally different- Korean paper art.  At first, I figured it would be like some kind of origami, but as it turned out, we were making paper fans.  We were handed a square sheet with a bunch of Korean characters on it, and we were told to cut out any shape we wanted.  After that, we were supposed to attach a handle.  That’s it.  It should’ve taken five minutes at the most.
        I decided to make a fairly normal shaped fan, except with mini spikes all around the edge.  I started cutting the fan out, and by the end of it, I thought it looked pretty good.  Of course, then the teacher came around to check our work.  It was déjà vu.
        “No no no!”  she said.  “Yaka sama mayo…etc.”  She didn’t speak English either, so I had no idea what she was saying, but she didn’t look too thrilled.  Some Korean kid behind me translated.  “You see that ribbon on the table?” he said.  I looked down and saw the ribbon for the first time.  “That has to be glued around every edge, or the fan will fall apart.  She wants you to cut your fan down so it has a smooth edge, otherwise it’s gonna take forever to cover each little part.”
        That put me in a tough spot.  Was I going to allow my work to be censored yet again?  Sorry teacher, not this time.  I started cutting the ribbon into small pieces and glued them on one by one.  It took me about 1 minute per edge, and there were around fifty of them, so it wasn’t looking like I’d be able to finish in time.  After a few minutes, the assistant teacher came over and reached out, as if to say, “Give me the fan.”  I had some reservations, but she was cute, so I handed it to her.  Then, she picked up the ribbon and began doing my work for me.  I felt like a regular Tom Sawyer.
        “Hey, I can do that,” I said.
        She just laughed and kept working.  Since I didn’t have anything else to do, I figured I’d strike up a little conversation.
        “So you’re a teacher?” I said.
        “Teacher,” she said.
        “Do you usually teach older kids”- I reached my hands up in the air- “or younger kids?” and I put my hand down by the ground.
        “Younger,” she laughed.
        While she kept taping up my fan, I got the attention of one of the kids who’s fluent in Korean.
        “How do you say, “good teacher” in Korean?
        “Cho-un san-sang-neem.”
        Well, I repeated that to her, and she cracked up.  It must’ve been the funniest thing she’d ever heard.  I wondered if I’d actually just said something embarrassing, but I double checked it with someone else, and it really did mean “good teacher.”  I guess it’s easy to be a comedian over here.
        Sadly, as the hour drew to a close, so did our short-lived romance.  I (she) finished the fan about two minutes before class let out.  It had taken us about forty-five minutes more than anyone else.  But that fan was a triumph.  A masterpiece.  I could’ve cooled down the entire school with that thing.

In 100 years, this'll be in the Louvre.  Or a landfill.

        The main teacher came by one more time, smiling and shaking her head.
        “It’s good, right?” I said, holding out the fan.  She took it, looked it over for a few seconds, and then fanned herself with it.
        “Yes,” she said.  “Very good.”