I'm sitting, staring at a blinking cursor, wondering where to even begin...
I just finished the book I Live in the Future and Here is How It Works by Nick Bilton. He is the Bits blogger for the New York Times and just recently published the book. In the book, he outlines shifting business models from atoms to bits, like the Times being delivered as an electronic periodical on the Kindle or Nook instead of as printed paper. Aside from the fascinating analysis of the future of digital products and business models, he makes an interesting distinction between "digital immigrants" and "digital natives".
This terminology should be pretty self-explanatory but just in case, a digital immigrant is, in his words, anyone over the age of 25, a native being under the age of 25. Digital natives may also be called Millennials, but the fact of the matter is that they were born into an age wherein the Internet is a given, much like running water and gravity.
I consider myself a digital immigrant, though one who has spent over half his life thinking with a digital mentality. For me, reading I live in the Future on my new Kindle, an ereader, felt natural though it's only the second book I have ever read in that paperless format. I understand the model of the Amazon Kindle store, how to navigate the device and I quickly developed a relationship with the thin plastic gadget akin to that of a book. The differentiation I would like to make, however, is that it was not a process. I simply adjusted to, as opposed to having to relearn, how to interact with my Kindle as one interacts with a book. In other words there were no analogues, no symbolism. Reading on an ereader was as natural an experience as picking up and holding a book.
Digital immigrants must often create analogues in order to grasp the digital concept and translate the concept in order to understand and process the new experience. For example, reading on the Kindle is like reading a book rather than thinking that reading on the Kindle is reading a book. Analogues are helpful but problematic in that the new digital world is not a series of if this then thats. It's like learning a new language wherein a word in a target language does not have a direct translation to English and the word loses its meaning once loosely translated.
The digital natives command this new language with dexterity and authority; interestingly for me, as a digital immigrant on the cusp, I am teaching digital natives.
The digital generation divide was apparent in the Philippines, teaching my students who quickly learned HTML, computer hardware maintenance and other computer projects, but it wasn't until today, when I taught my Korean students about the history if the Internet, that the divide slapped me in the face.
During my lecture, I touched on when the Internet came into being, why it came into being, a few landmark technologies, such as email, IP and DNS and the possible future of the Internet. After the lecture, I posed the question to my students, "if the U.S. invented the Internet, invested heavily in its infrastructure and 70% of the Internet is in English in large part as a result of American content contribution, who does the Internet belong to?" My students gave me a blank look, which I misinterpreted as their misunderstanding. As I tried to rephrase the question, one student piped in, "everyone" -- exactly the answer I was looking for. As I stood there, I watched students all nod in agreement. Their blank look wasn't that of misunderstanding but that of complete understanding, as if I stood there saying "the sky is blue." Well obviously.
The students knew conceptually what an IP address was, had never heard of DNS and didn't care that Ray Tomlinson invented email, but it didn't matter. Every one of my students has an email address, can navigate the Internet competently and with agility and, as I have come to understand, without needing to know such trivial details. They were born into the Internet and made it theirs as much as I have made it mine. It's as if we as immigrants are given our 40 acres and a mule once we establish a connection to the Internet and we have had to learn the techniques of cultivating our share. Like I said, we immigrants need analogies to understand some of these concepts. The natives on the other hand have been playing in the digital dirt since the beginning, as though there never was a duplicitous approach to the real self and the digital self.
But it got me thinking, what is the future of the Internet, populated by natives. What will the Internet look like when everyone gets their 40 acres and a mule in a world where the zero-sum game is irrelevant? How will the presence of English shift or change as more and more people contribute to this thing? I started thinking about numbers; in 2009, 4.6 billion people, world-wide, had a cell phone. That's about two thirds the global population. In ten years, as smart phones come down in price and global buying power increases, what is stopping every one of the 4.6 billion or more digital natives from connecting to the Internet with pocket-sized computers, carving out their own plot, in their own language, on their own terms?
The Internet is going to look very different in the next ten years, bandwidth and media aside. And who is to say who can and who cannot connect and contribute? The Internet belongs to everyone, duh!
Due to overwhelming demand for a glimpse into my apartment and living conditions, here is a post on the apartment in which I live. But first, a disclaimer: my living situation is not typical and I have been very fortunate; I live in the building owned by my coteacher. It is a large two-story house wherein he lives on the second floor and there are three apartments, including my own, on the bottom. Most foreign teachers live in studio apartments, meaning that the bedroom, kitchen and living room are one room, the only separate room being the bathroom. That said, we are guaranteed certain elements such as a fridge, washing machine, microwave, a gas or electric range and bed, to name a few. See below for more details, after the pics.
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| My kitchen |
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| My dining area |
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| My den/living room |
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| My bedroom |
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| My bedroom |
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| My deck and chair |
As many of you know, I have been rocking a buzz cut since I graduated college and in that tradition, it was time to get my hairs cut as the last such incident happened before Brian and Kari's wedding. Anyhow, I was far from shaggy, but having just been paid, it was time for the buzz.
I have never had a problem getting a buzz cut no matter where I have travelled. The "barber shop social script," as I like to refer to it, is a well worn path, especially when all one needs to do is point to the clippers and raise two fingers in reference to the length at which I want my hair cut.
I explained this plan to my coteacher, to which he responded its impossibility. But why? Because everything in Korea is different of course! After his brief explanation, he took out a post-it and wrote instructions for style and length that I would give to the barber upon arrival. The barber spoke little to no English and, after delivering the post-it, the inevitable charades began confirming the instructions.
The barber pulled out the 90mm, battery-operated clippers from a drawer and began buzzing my head in patches. My hair was looking something awful; by the time the battery-powered clippers gave up the ghost (I think it was having culture shock with hair thicker than what it has been used to), I had a luxurious reverse mullet.
"Oh my God!," I thought, "I'm going to have to find some hair clippers quick style before school tomorrow."
I wish I knew I was in the hands of an artist, but up to this point, how could I have known? He pulled out a comb and scissors and, Edward Scissorhands style, his tools of the trade started flying around my noggin and all I felt was the breath of his hands maneuvering in perfect orbit. It reminded me of that scene in the live-action Ninja Turtles movie where the foot clan is training and they throw a smoke bomb to the floor, having to grab all the bells from a mannequin without making a sound before the smoke dissipates. After the cut, we went over to a sink, I lowered my head over a bucket in the sink and he began vigorously applying and massaging mentholated shampoo and conditioner into my scalp and hair. Needless to say, this felt amazing!
Now I was thinking by this point that I have been spoiled by Filipino haircuts. Filipinos clean up edges of a buzz cut with a straight razor; not only does this feel amazing but it looks pretty darn sharp as well. And the moment of truth...
At first he put a pillow behind my head, flipped a lever and the back of my chair flew backwards. He dipped a towel in a rice cooker heating water and put it across my face. As the towel warmed my skin, I heard the clinking of wood on ceramic. Could it be true? Is he really...?
Yes! He pealed the towel from my face and began applying a rich lather around my face and forehead (to get the edges of the hairline) with a soft brush. He sat and began the shave with straight razor, the second time I have ever had such a treatment. After he shaved my face to the point where it felt like a beach ball covered in KY, he began shaving my ears and between my eyebrows. I swear he shaved every invisible hair on my head. But that's not all. After fixing up a few spots, he took very small scissors and began trimming my nose hairs! This was a first!
By the end of the process, during which not a word was spoken, I had the dumbest smile on my face, high on endorphins and ready to shell out the equivalent of $50 for this most exhilarating of treatments. As is common here in a goods and service exchange between a foreigner and a Korean, I handed him my cell phone to dial out the total of the bill as my Korean numbers skills aren't what they should be. And the total? Seven dollars.
I walked all the way home with the biggest, dumbest smile on my face.
Hey all,
I was poking around some settings and have discovered a free way for people here in Korea (or in any country for that matter) to call US and Canadian landlines and cell phones for free until the end of the year.
What you need:
Well folks, it's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry I have been M.I.A. since I arrived in this beautiful country. I offer no excuses other than things keep popping up, whether they be social calls, ironing (ugh!), emergency Pringles runs to the 7-11, etc.
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| at my desk in the office |
Otherwise, my home life is great. I have a swank, one-bedroom apartment, complete with airconditioning, a full kitchen, washing machine, TV, 50Mbps internet and iTV (TV that comes in through the internet as opposed to cable). I have also acquired a Play Station 3 from another foreign teacher here in Yecheon, borrowing it until she returns home. The best part about this acquisition? I can now stream movies and TV shows from my laptop to the TV. It is the ultimate entertainment setup.
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| catfish soup |
Hopefully sometime this week I will post pics of my apartment, of Yecheon and embellish my posts with more detail about daily life here in this town of 50,000 people.
