monicakim

Movie Season

2010-11-26T07:53:00.008+09:00

It's that time of year where movies get good. Of course, I don't have time right now to watch movies, but that doesn't stop me from viewing trailers to see what's coming out and what I might like.

Imagine my surprise upon seeing a picture of an Asian man next to the button for the Green Lantern trailer. "WHOA," I thought. "We're finally getting an Asian lead in a major movie." I quickly clicked on the play button.

Imagine now my disappointment upon seeing that the lead wasn't Asian, but white, just like every other movie Hollywood produces. My disappointment wasn't too great, since it's Ryan Reynolds, but I was disappointed nonetheless.

I started going through my mind to determine how many minorities were in these major super hero action films. ... ... ... Halle Berry. Oh, and I guess Will Smith. ... ... ... There are others, but they're either villains or their roles aren't even memorable enough for me to know their characters' names.

I suppose I should celebrate the fact that Asians are no longer portrayed by a buck-toothed Mickey Rooney, and blacks are no longer relegated to the positions of household servants. I do recognize this, but I'm not satisfied by it. When do minorities play lead roles? When the role itself requires a minority, or is targeted to that minority population. I realize that the majority of America is still white. Census estimates whites at about 65%, Hispanics around 14%, blacks around 13%, and Asians around 5%. We mixies are about 2%. One would think that on the west coast, these Hollywood power houses could realize that there are other races running around.

The fact that a minority isn't playing the lead doesn't mean that I won't watch the movie. If it looks good, I'll watch it, and if it's any good, I'll enjoy it. Putting a minority as a lead probably won't garner more money, or turn a mediocre movie into a blockbuster. But, perhaps, if we put more minorities in lead roles, roles that could be filled by people of any race, all Asians wouldn't have to look alike. Perhaps blacks wouldn't have to be athletes. Perhaps minorities can be accepted as entrepreneurs, accountants, bums, doctors, farmers, heroes, jerks and nuns. Perhaps they wouldn't have to be placed in their predetermined roles.

Come on, Hollywood. Minorities can fill lead roles in films that don't involve kung-fu, barbershops or Disney. You have a whole color palette to work with; learn to use it.

September update

2010-09-28T05:42:00.014+09:00

Fine, Austin, I'm posting. It's been a busy 8 months? Classes, finals, moving, boredom, work, boredom, and classes.

I finally got around to unpacking my last box this week. It was mainly driven by desperation; I had invited some friends over for Chuseok, and really needed to clear the boxes out so they wouldn't know the extent of my patheticness. The move was...interesting. I went from a furnished studio to an unfurnished one-bedroom, so most of my time was spent between looking on craigslist for furniture and visiting Home Depot so I could build my own. And to be honest, 'my own' didn't turn out quite so bad.

The first item on the list was a place to sleep. I decided on a platform bed. It arrived in pieces of wood, and wasn't that hard to put together. The problem was that the wood underneath was cheap particle-board, which would show since I decided to forgo a mattress in favour of a pad which I could fold up during the day. So I bought some contact paper, lined the boards, and also took the time to line the night-stand near the furnace, just to add some continuity to the room.

The next projects were my shelves. There isn't a lot of storage space in the house, since the fireplace takes up a large portion of one of my walls. So it was necessary to install, and on two occasions build, storage space in the form of shelves.

My last project was to find some more room for my clothes, since I still had two 'winter' boxes left over. Of course, 'winter' means coats, scarves, and sweaters. I managed to fit most of my sweaters onto a shelf in my closet, but I still had some long-sleeved shirts that needed a home. So with some creative engineering, I fashioned t-shirt cubbies out of pvc pipe & spray paint, freeing up some dresser space for the sleeved shirts.

So now I'm officially done with my unpacking, and in light of it all, I don't think I want to move for quite a while.

Travel Plans

2010-01-09T03:50:00.004+09:00

Law school has many downsides. (Honestly, at this point, I'm having trouble thinking of many upsides.) You go from being top of your class to hoping you're in the upper 50%, but not really knowing. You start to realize that you're squinting a lot more. You read not til the wee hours in the morning, but to when 'real worlders' are getting up to take showers. Most of all, though, unless you're independently wealthy or your parents are ridiculously wealthy and crazy generous, you don't really have much disposable income. So I don't know if I'll even be able to head anywhere this summer, much less anytime in the next 2 1/2 years, and my K-Deutsch friends aren't helping my any bit. :)

Anna posted pictures of Heidelberg and Hamburg. And I facebook stalked Tanya's brother and went through his whole Germany album. And I WAS JEALOUS. I miss the quaint red-roofed houses, and the gothic cathedrals, and the rustic mountains. I miss armour-filled castles and schnitzel and real bratwurst. But then I miss...Koreanness: serene, sloped-roofed temples, mountaintop fortress walls and towering apartment skylines; I miss $5 비빔밥 and 소주집 and 떡복기 at midnight.

So, the question is, what's going to be at the top of my list in 2.5 years? Will it be Korea? Or Germany? For me, they're both D-land.. heh heh. Or...are we going to go with Africa to fulfill noraebang dreams? I'm accepting votes.

Finals schminals

2009-12-14T16:31:00.008+09:00

I love lists. And now, I'm prepared to unveil my list of the Top 10 Things I'd rather be doing than studying for finals!

10. Write a stupid blog about it.

9. Label my tab dividers

8. Express myself artistically

7. Sleep

6. Pop antacids

5. Drink tea

4. Drink coffee

3. Buy Christmas gifts for family and friends

2. Buy Christmas gifts for numero uno

1. Not study for finals!

Further education

2009-09-26T09:45:00.003+09:00

I've survived five weeks of law school, and the difference it's made in me is unbelievable. I've been cold-called in every single one of my classes, including once for a reading I hadn't done. After the mortification dissipated, I was able to look back and laugh. Or at least manage a watery smile...

But I know that the lessons I've learned are life-changing.

LRW has taught me more than I ever want to know about Michigan's fireman's rule.

Contracts has taught me that no good deed goes unpunished.

Torts has taught me two things. First, yes, people are as stupid as we joke about them being. Second, people are out to get me.

Crim Law has taught me that I need to read ahead. Or at least have more plausible excuses for not reading. Even better, though, I've learned that people can and will empathize with killers who murder and eat me on the high seas.

Civ Pro... I've learned that... well... Peterson gets really animated on Pennoyer.

But most importantly, I've learned that I should never put anything self-incriminating or self-deprecating online, including Facebook and my blog, at the risk that it will reflect badly on me when future employers see it. That said, this is a joke and I've REALLY REALLY REALLY learned a lot about everything I have to know to become a really successful student, intern and lawyer. Also, I'm really smart and I'm only getting smarter. Furthermore, I'm a really hard worker and I learn from my mistakes; I'm actually a lesson ahead in Crim Law. Hire me!

Dear Santa

2009-08-26T09:34:00.012+09:00

Dear Santa,

As you may remember, it's been years since the first time you put 'necessities' in my stocking: deodorant, floss, lotion, and the like. And the whole of my college years involved my 'big present' consisting of a pile of textbooks. I've taken these developments with grace, only slightly ruing my waning adolescence. And, now that I've completed my second day of school, I think it's time to fully embrace my adulthood by foregoing all pretensions of a happy Christmas. Thus I present this year's list.

School supplies

7 6-packs of highlighters, rainbow colours
6 3-packs of yellow, orange and pink highlighters
3 3-packs of yellow highlighters

Health and Beauty

1 free pass to optometrist of my choosing for a new prescription
2 new lenses for my glasses
1 year's supply of contact lenses

Grocery

3 bags of gourmet coffee [OR] 1 espresso maker
3 bottles of Tylenol PM (gelcaps, thank you)

Household

3 2-packs 60-watt "soft white" non-halogen light bulbs for desk lamp

Automotive

directions to a medical center that will pay for blood, plasma, ova, kidneys, whatever

Any remaining quantities of Christmas magic can be applied to:

1 Canon EOS macro lens [AND/OR]
1 Canon EOS wide-angle lens [AND/OR]
1 Canon EOS telephoto zoom lens

In exchange for above services, as well as any other required services*, I will continue to believe in you for approximately one year. The fulfillment of your services will not be deemed complete until the items are in my possession (under my tree).

Sincerely,

Monica Kim

*I reserve the right to change this list. This right will expire at 11:59:59 PM EST on 23 December, 2009, giving you a minimum of 24 hours to comply with any changes.

As cosignor AND transit company CEO, you are compelled to certify that reindeer are fed only 'organic' magic oats, as per WFGO rule 17. Also, it is your responsibility to comply with regulations and statutes established by Congress, the FAA and DoD while in American airspace. You are hereby warned that you are on the radar and non-compliance can result in a trial in Federal court or by military tribunal.

Elven labour must be conducted in a 'sweat-free' environment, as per NP statute 24 s. 49(a)(ii). Failure to comply can result in a $2500 fine and up to 10 months in jail.

Today's post

2009-08-20T14:23:00.003+09:00

Finally. I'm getting to today's post. Which, after three hours of typing and editing, is technically yesterday's post. But I'm going to call it today's post.

Today, I had my first day of Orientation. Which is quite marvelous, because it took me less than 45 minutes to prepare for it. This includes showering, outfit-choosing, and make-up. Amazing.

I'm a member of Section 14. Sounds like some secret government agency. Sections 11, 12 & 13 are each composed of 100+ students, but luckily for me, Section 14 is much smaller. Oh happy day.

During orientation, Dean Lawrence was talking. I spent most of my time listening fairly attentively, but something really caught my attention. He was talking about how to survive our 1L, and he got on the topic of our drive. What's driving us as students? What will drive us as lawyers? Money? Prestige? Power? Position?

Then he said something that gave me a moment of panic. Ever since I took a law school prep course a few days ago, I've been feeling a little overwhelmed, a little panicky. There's so much I don't know that I'll be expected to know. For once, I may not be one of the smartest people in my group. Can I handle disappointing myself? I'm completely unprepared for this. Can I earn a GPA that will maintain my scholarship? WHAT DID I GET MYSELF INTO?

His words made it worse. He said, "Remember why you decided to study law."

I took my LSAT for the first time in 2006. Since then, I've graduated college, got a job, moved to a different country, met a boy. So much has happened, yet in the back of my mind, law school has always lingered. It's just always been 'the next step.' It's been what's been expected of me, and what I've expected myself to do. Last year, I wondered if it was really the right path for me, but I brushed aside those queries because it had been, for so long, 'the next step.'

And he told me to remember why I decided to study law, and I asked myself why I decided to study to law and I realized what I had known in the back of my mind for a very long time: that I couldn't answer that question.

Thankfully, he answered the question. He reminded me that it wasn't the money, the prestige, or the power (although, admittedly, those are certainly some perks). He reminded me what that naive idealist had thought three years ago: it's a means to do something good. And now, just a little more knowledgeable, a little less naive, I know that I can still do something good.

I just have to remember why I decided to study law.

What I love about America

2009-08-20T13:43:00.006+09:00

Yet another list compiled on the plane.

10 July

Now that I've listed the things I’ll miss about Korea, I think it’s fair to go into things I’m super excited about in the US.

Obviously I’m excited about seeing my family and friends, and Fat Tommy.
Heterogeneity: It goes past seeing only black hair and black eyes. I’m so excited about the variety in the US. In Korea, you hear one K-pop song non-stop for two months, or you see a shirt that a character wore on a popular TV drama EVERYWHERE. The US isn’t fadless, but the difference in styles and the individuality is more noticeable.
Fitting in while remaining different: In a similar vein, it’ll be great to not be abnormal anymore. It’s not that only that I look different because of my mixed ethnicity. It’s that I dress differently and (thank God!) act differently. If I ever fall into cute sissy girl mode, please, just shoot me.
Food: Mexican, pit barbecue, and real cheese.
Beer: Tasty beer that doesn’t cost 10 bucks. I think a Guinness & Bass half’n’half is in good order.
English: English, English, English, this mother tongue that I’ve missed so much. Korean’s not so bad, but it’ll be nice to read something and not have to translate it.

20 August

Now, to make one special note. In Korea, it's easy to make fun of Koreans. Especially the people who are my age, since they should really know better. The women, and men, are kinda sissies. Women pretend to be wusses to "cute-ify" themselves in front of their boyfriends. You can always tell when a woman is on the phone with a man because her voice will go 4 pitches higher and she'll giggle a lot more. Men...I'm not sure if they really are stronger than the women. They certainly lack any muscle tone to disprove my theories. I'm ok with metro guys. But they're not metro; they're just pretty boys. And usually mama's boys. *I'm talking about popular culture; there are still a few sensible people running around.*

I couldn't wait to get back to the US, where people are normal.

Back here, after one week in the law school dorm, I realize that American 20-somethings are pretty stupid, too. These are all people with at least bachelor's degrees, yet they act like morons. Apparently neither their parents nor their Greek siblings taught them how to hold their liquor, because I've heard drunken bellowing almost every night. Inside and outside of my apartment building. And let's not even get started on, like, those totally weird accents, and, ya know, like, those weird space fillers that predominantly, ya know, women tend to interject into, like, their speech? Or, ya know, to end everything with, like, a question mark? Like it's a question, even though it's a statement?

[Let me do some social commentary here, too. In Korea, the older people get drunk and act like morons. This is because they're higher up in the hierarchy and they've 'earned' the right to act stupid and people shouldn't call them out on it. The younger people, while drunk, don't act like idiots (at least in the presence of the older ones). Contrast that to the US, where younger people get drunk and act like morons. Here, instead, the mindset is that they're young and stupid and haven't learned how to properly conduct themselves in public settings. Older people are more cultured and have wisened up enough to realize that such behaviour is inappropriate.

Let me conclude. In each culture, there are sufficient numbers of people who live down to society's expectations of their stupidity to make my generalizations valid.]

Moving on. Korean 20-somethings, I apologize. I ridiculed you for your silliness. While that was perfectly legitimate, well-grounded and just, I was wrong in ethnocentrically thinking that 20-somethings in my culture aren't as silly as you. In fact, they are. What I've come to realize through this mental debacle is that I'm more mature than other people my age. I rock.

Korea unforgotten

2009-08-20T12:48:00.005+09:00

I'm on a roll here. Like butter. Unfortunately, as per, I managed to...defer...my blogging until I had a sizable pile. Since I want to do these chronologically, I had to type some up as I went along (the last Korealists), and I have to finish these before I actually get to "today's."

So, yet another list, this time of things I miss about Korea. I actually typed this up on my Word processor on the plane, so...it's pretty old.

10 July
I was supposed to have written this before. Unfortunately, there were extenuating circumstances that prevented me from doing so. I've been really busy in the last two months: we had a demo lesson in mid-June, which meant that the first two weeks of June were spent preparing it. After that, my time was spent getting my documents together, as well as dealing with a fiasco between my school and our real estate agent over my housing. It was a mess. With school over, my last 9 days in July were spent meeting people, conquering a mountain, and transferring funds between bank accounts. And I’ve been internetless. Survival was doubtful for awhile. In a word, Hectic.

Let's move on. Things I'll miss about Korea. I’ve gathered a few lists, and I’ve lost just as many. So I spent a few minutes of my plane ride developing a new list of things that I’m going to miss about Korea. (It’s about 1am Korea time here, and a large percent of the plane is asleep. I accidentally put my earphone jack into the microphone outlet, and turned my mute off. It was loud. oops hehe)

There’s no particular order to this, with the exception of numbers one and two.

김대용: He was definitely the hardest to leave. For days, I’ve been crying every time I thought about him (I never witnessed a single tear come from his eyes, but he called when I was boarding and I could hear the tears in his voice). He’s the most gentle, affable, contented and patient man that I know. I know I don’t deserve him, but somehow I got lucky.
My “family” and friends: There are so many wonderful people, I can’t even begin to go through them all. Some have already left, while others I’m leaving. I just hope that we can stay in touch so that we can meet up when I return to Korea. Or so, wherever they might live in the world, I have a sofa to sleep on if I come a-knockin.
Food: Korean food is, in my unbiased opinion, one of the best cuisines in the world (along with Indian, Thai & German. yum). There are so many things that one might miss about Korean food: 닭갈비, 떡만두국 when fighting a cold, 삼계탕 or 콩국수 on a hot summer day, or my favourite black sesame seed cereal. And need I mention fruits? I’ll never eat watermelon or strawberries with the same gusto. Luckily, mom & dad have Korean pears and persimmon growing in their garden. Perhaps what I’ll miss the most, though, even more than 한식 or 김밥, is a simple snack of 떡복기 순대 at midnight from the cart outside.
술: What’s food without drink? Most gyopo Koreans think soju when they think Korean drink. I’ll admit I’m not a big fan. During my tenure, I tried to sample the traditional drinks, and think that I’ve experienced a fair bit. Give me a bottle of 백새주, 복분자 or a bowl of 막걸리, and I’ll be super happy. And bamboo wine, with its spicy cinnamoniness, is a new flavor that I doubt I’ll find outside of Korea.
Wonderful places: Seoul is home, but need I admit that Seoraksan tops the list of places to take a short holiday? Beautiful scenery, great exercise, 20 minutes from the beach, and rife with happy memories… Another thing I’ll really miss is seeing Namsan Tower. To me, that defines Seoul. Seoul is not Seoul without those beautiful lights piercing the haze. Also, Jeollado, with its rolling hills and farmland, and down-to-earth natural people -- it's weird knowing that I can't hop on a train for a weekend trip to that rustic area.
Urbanity: Officetels, where I head downstairs to the 24-hour convenience store at 2am to buy toilet paper. 100 Mb/s internet connection at $40 a month, instead of 30 Mb/s connection at $60/month, like the US. Mobile reception EVERYWHERE. It’s great sending a picture to friends of a mountain conquest…at 1700 metres. Obviously I wouldn’t feel this way if I didn’t live in the Seoul MA. [after being in the US for a month, cell phone reception is driving me nuts!! And yes, everything closes by 10pm, even 'convenience' stores]
Low medical costs: I got quality medical care without getting robbed. Wicked.
Low crime rates: This didn’t really come to mind immediately, but I think it’s something that I’ve grown to take for granted. Leaving my purse at the table while I grab my coffee or walking through a low-traffic area at night just doesn’t scare me anymore. I guess I should change that attitude pronto, before I get mugged.
Speed cameras: What a simple, effective solution to speeding. Now, if I'm correct in assuming that the purpose of a speed limit is to lower accidents/fatalities/injuries, and not to increase any slush funds, the idea of speed cameras is perfect. In Korea, they place cameras in dangerous areas, and warn drivers about the cameras with pretty yellow signs. The driver slows to the appropriate speed, and once the danger area is passed, speeds back up. Simple. Efficient. Purposeful. Contrast that to the US, where tax dollars are wasted with cops sitting in gas-guzzlers, gunning down speeders. Instead they could be walking the beat, assuring citizens that their neighbourhoods are protected and watched after by a thoughtful and caring police force, building repoire with their communities, and deterring crime simply by their presence. Even worse are speed traps, but I'm not going to mention slush funds again because that's unfair.
Movie theater seating: I don't care how much a movie theater "hypes" up a movie by making people wait in line, WE NEED THIS! How stupid is it to arrive at a theatre 4 hours early? Or to have to sit apart from one's friends because there aren't seats together? Just let me pick my seat when I buy a ticket, because my time is more valuable than a line, and if I can't share overpriced popcorn with people I care about, I don't want to spend 10 bucks on a ticket.
Restaurant simplicities: I loved getting a buzzer when I went to a coffee shop. But what can top that? A service bell on the restaurant table, so I can buzz the server. I don't have to waste the server's time, and the server doesn't have to waste mine. Culinary bliss.

Now that I'm back in the US, let me go ahead an add some more as they come to me.

Electronic selection: I'm sorry, Best Buy, you're just not what I need at this point in my life. All I want is a simple outlet converter. $2, maybe $3. Just a 220 to 110 volt. I don't need the $20 international switch-out-the-gadget-roo premium pack. And if I want a wire to connect my DS with my PC, you should have it. And seriously, nobody in the US makes car stereo faces that play off of SD memory cards? Who wants a flash drive sticking out, ready to stab somebody in the eye? Also, no, iPod is NOT the only music/video player available. I miss Yongsan.
Did I already mention DaeYong?
Public transit ease: Maybe it's just DC. I want metro busses that have their major stops written on the bus. Or at least at the bus stop. Or somewhere besides a massive online .pdf. I wanna know where these things are going before I get on them.

Korealist 2009: my accomplishments and my deferments

2009-08-20T11:17:00.013+09:00

I'd hate to think that I can fail at anything. Rumour has it that I can, but I beg to differ. Therefore, I'd prefer if everyone think of my failures as...deferments. To be accomplished next time I go to Korea.

So, to recap the list:

1. Tour the three Seoul palaces I haven't yet visited: 창덕궁, 창경궁, & 경희궁
On 24 May, D & I went to 창덕궁, and on 27 June, Anna & I did a quick walk-thru (it was hot, and there was nothing significant there!) of 경희궁. 창경궁 is deferred.

2. Climb Mt. Bukhan
Done

3. Watch a Bears baseball game in Jamsil
Done. Twice.

4. Watch an Ilhwa soccer game.
Deferred. Might be exchanged for Seoul FC.

5. Buy a nice camera a whole day wandering around Seoul, taking pictures.
I bought the nice camera, and I've wandered around Seoul (and other areas) multiple times, but I never got quite the picture that I wanted (a clear shot of N. Seoul Tower at night). So defer the N. Seoul Tower shot til next time.

6. See the giant free-standing Buddha on Songnisan.
Deferred.

7. See the parted waters in Jindo.
I went. I walked. I waded. I wondered.

8. Actually visit Busan.
Done.

9. Actually visit Japan.
Technically, I stopped in Tokyo on a layover. Does that count? If not, deferred.

10. Eat live octopus
Done.

11. Do my taxes in August.
I don't think I technically have to do my taxes, since I didn't make any money in the US. I guess I'll find out when the IRS comes knocking.

12. See Dokdo
Deferred.

13. Visit the folk village in Yongin.
I'm still not sure if this should have been a priority. I just kinda threw it on cuz it's one of those things you're supposed to do. But, ok, deferred.

14. Master past tense
I may have forgotten it, but done.

15. Learn future tense
Ditto on 14

16. Buy a new mp3 player.
I wasn't sure if my phone would work with a US carrier (it doesn't) so I never actually did this while in Korea. But happily, my dad doesn't know how to use the one I bought for his birthday last year, so my mom "gave" it to me. Preloaded with the Eagles and Air Supply. Sweet. It's the gift that keeps giving.

17. Buy external memory
Done. And it's almost kinda full.

18. See the Zen Rocks in northern Seoul
Done.

19. Visit Seodaemun Prison
Done

So, the grand total

Done: 10
Deferred: 4
Questionable / halfsies: 3
Totally unnecessary in retrospect: 2

And, I managed to squeeze in two extras that I didn't list, but should have: 두륜산, and...

대청봉! @ 1708 metres

Those that have been deferred/halfsie'd will be composing Korealist: 20_ _. Here are some other early frontrunners that may make the cut:

Conquer Mt. Jiri, SK's tallest mountain
Scan Jeju's beauty from atop Mt. Halla
Photograph a sunset from Taean Coastal park
Actually go somewhere in Gangwon-do that ISN'T Seoraksan
Check out Gyeongsangdo, which I heartlessly ignored over the last two years (this includes forcing HaKyung to redo Sobaeksan just for the fun of it^^)

Korealist 2009: 19

2009-08-20T11:06:00.003+09:00

19: visit Seodaemun Prison

Oops. This is really late, since I've been in the US for over a month. But so are the next two posts, so it's not that bad.

On 27 June Anna & I checked out Seodaemun Prison, and I still remember how I felt. The English descriptions were a little bit funny; it would say what a certain document is, and apparently the English-speaker is supposed to know its significance, etc. Since we've all taken university-level courses on occupation-era Korean history?

Of course the creepiest part was walking through the sections with the figurines undergoing torture. I decided that that'd be the perfect place for a haunted sleepover dare. But I think the worst exhibit was where they were torturing a female prisoner; they were doing the 'shove the needle under the fingernail' that really grosses me out everytime I think about it. I had seen it in a movie and it had grossed me out then, and as I type I'm getting a little nauseous thinking about it.

Anna really puts the horrors of the prison into perspective in this rather candid photo

Korealist 2009: 8, 10

2009-06-17T20:13:00.005+09:00

8: Actually visit Busan

This is one of those on-the-beaten track places that hides some of those off-the-beaten track sites. Unfortunately, I didn't hit any of those. This was a purely tourist-trap trip.

KyungHee managed to find a tour package for 80,000원, which is actually cheaper than train tickets. The tour covers a temple, Haeundae Beach, an island, and THE FISH MARKET. Not being too thrilled about exploring Busan (I wish I had read its background before, but it's too late now), I accepted the idea of being herded like cattle without sacrificing too much of my dignity.

So I woke up at 5:50am (actually, I jumped out of bed because the sun was shining brightly and I thought I had slept through my alarm) and speed-dressed. KyungHee was going to pick up the bus at her stop then call me when the bus reached my stop. Around 6:20 she texted that she's getting on the bus, and it would be around 5 minutes. So I ran out of the house (forgetting jacket and sunglasses) and around 6:25 I got on the bus. Apparently, it was the wrong one, and we didn't end up meeting up til we arrived at Seoul Station.

How long had it been since I had eaten a fast-food restaurant breakfast? A long time, and it gave me a stomachache. Eating my Burger King croissanwich and tater tots, I suddenly had visions of McGriddles floating through my mind, even though I think I've only eaten it once. A glimpse of Napoleon Dynamite, too, but the McGriddles stole the spotlight.

We arrived in Busan after an uneventful train ride. The first place we headed to was 용궁사, or Dragon Palace Temple. I like to mix some culture and history into my trips, so this to me was the redeeming part of the Busan trip. Unfortunately, it was a bit of a let-down; the name is way cooler than the temple itself.. Rebuilt during the Japanese occupation, it was rather new and flavourless. Nonetheless, I guess it was good to experience a modern-style temple, although I infinitely prefer the older ones. Also, it's the only temple that's right on the ocean.

in front of Dragon Palace Temple

We hit Haeundae (해운대, or 海雲臺). 海 means sea; 雲 means cloud; and 臺 means I have no idea. I looked up the hanja and came up with three definitions: heights, support, or typhoon. Take your pick. Height makes sense, since Choi ChiWon's rock carving (from which the beach gets its name) is on a hill; typhoon can make sense since it's on the beach. I'm going to go ahead an risk ruling out 'support' though.

It was rather cold, and I didn't have any beach materials, so it wasn't that exciting for me. We walked up the beach a bit, then went inland to see if we could find a decent pair of sunglasses (my eyes have been really sensitive to light lately). No dice, so we walked around a bit more before getting on the bus for the island.

KyungHee on Haeundae Beach

About 15 minutes away, and perhaps 1 kilometre, was 동백섬 (Camellia Island). Actually, it's more appropriately called 동백공원, as land reclamation has turned it into a peninsula. It was a nice walk, and we got to see Nurimaru House, the sight of the 2005 APEC Summit. Even better, though was the Tarzan bridge: a reinforced jungle bridge constructed of fresh wood with steel bars. A girl was trying to be an "urban" Korean girl (aka SISSY!) by pretending to be scared of the bridge and KyungHee started making fun of her rather loudly. It was funny.

Nurimaru House, with 광안 Bridge on the left

Last stop: 자갈치 시장. Which, of course, brings us to:

10: Eat live octopus

We bought it, and I splashed on the sesame oil and ate it. It was good while eating it, but I think it's one of those things that you experience once in your life, enjoy, and never do again. The suctions would latch onto my mouth, and a few times it kind of hurt. And one has to chew a lot to make sure the tentacles don't attach to one's throat, and I feel a little sick when I have to chew raw octopus too much.

they were sticking to the chopsticks

Korealist 2009: 2

2009-06-17T19:42:00.006+09:00

2: Climb Mt. Bukhan

7 June, 2009

Did the hike, took the pictures.

D, Elli & I left bright and early (no joke!) for Bukhansan. After getting conned by a parking lot operator (we paid 5,000 on a side lot instead of free in the park lot), we started the trek up. It wasn't bad, and the view was nice from the top. Unfortunately, it was too cloudy to see much, but we did glimpse the north part of Seoul to the south and Uijeongbu to the northeast.

We had a nice jog down, using a different, less accessed and more scenic route.

On Bukhansan there are the newly-renovated remains of Bukhansanseong (North Mountain Fortress); we deemed it proper to head to Namhansanseong (South Mountain Fortress), where we grilled burgers for dinner. Yum!

at the summit marker

D & Elli looking towards Uijeongbu

Korealist 2009: 18

2009-05-10T00:11:00.001+09:00

18: See the Zen Rocks in northern Seoul

끝. Sammi and I headed to 독립문 Station today to see the strange Zen Rocks. Running late, I caught a cab and got the added benefit of seeing Dongnimmun "Independence" Gate, ironically named, as it was built during occupation.

We began the long, hot trek up 인왕산. There was a map at the base, but we were a bit too preoccupied (searching for a washroom) to notice it. So we just continued uphill, not realizing what we were looking at until we returned and found the map.

This was by far one of the most conflicting visits I've ever been on. This whole area is rife with the conflict: modernity vs. tradition. Although it is a Buddhist area, and the rocks are 'Zen Rocks,' it's a place where shamanism is actively practiced.

Temples, while serene, have to me never conflicted with modernity. I guess because 1) in my mind, Buddhism is an enlightened religion; 2) it has survived into modernity and 3) monks with glasses, cell phones and cars aren't uncommon.

However, shamanism is different. To me, it represents the animalistic, the id, the Dark Ages. It is a pre-modernity religion that didn't survive industrialisation; it's a supernaturally-based religion that didn't survive the move towards reason; Asia's shamanism is England's paganism with one exception: paganism is essentially dead, while shamanism is dying. Granted, it is making a slight comeback, but that's due only to the swing of the pendulum, when people decide that emphasising old traditions and preserving nationalist practices are important.

Also, I remember stories from my mother's childhood about the shaman rituals. She told of one woman who, babbling continuously, danced on the edge of a sword without getting cut. She said that even as a kid, she felt like she was in the presence of something evil. Even though, in post-war Korea where she often had to skip meals, these rituals offered free food, she avoided them because they creeped her out.

So it was conflicting, leaving modern Seoul and walking up that mountain, void of the decent trails normally found in parks, listening to the gongs; seeing people traipsing around in brightly-coloured hiking garb, then a man praying in a pure-white silk robe; stumbling up the rugged, neglected paths, then turning around and seeing skyscrapers and high-rise apartments, expertly designed and built to a myriad of blueprints.

A man praying alone on a rock outcropping

I'll admit, heading up the mountain towards the shrine was a little spooky to me. I don't know if it's my mother's stories, or just the mysticism that surrounds the place. The people we came across didn't help me feel better; it was like some Twilight Zone episode, where you keep running into weird people. The man who was either sleeping, praying or drunk; the man who was shooting birds with a slingshot; the man who just stood around and stared at us (Sammi and I separately thought to ourselves that he might try to murder us). It wasn't until we were leaving the area that the creepiness left. Maybe it was the mountain releasing us; maybe it was the spirits leaving us; maybe it was all psychological and the western guys we ran into made the whole undeveloped spooky place feel a little less foreign.

Contrasting the id vs. the ego; the animalistic vs. the civilized; the supernatural vs. the enlightened; the obsolete vs. the modern -- enjoying the serenity and beauty of the natural scene, while being haunted by the ghosts of my mother's childhood -- this was my trip to 인왕산.

That said, I can't wait to visit again. Though I heard it, some strange magic intervened and I couldn't see the elusive shaman ritual in all of its mystical glory. I want to witness it.

But even better, who's up for a camping trip there and telling ghost stories?

Korealist 2009: 20

2009-05-09T22:59:00.010+09:00

There is no number 20 on Korealist 2009, but there should have been.

So here's the honorary 20: Conquer Duryunsan.

Last year, I traveled to Jeollanamdo and visited a temple called Daeheungsa, located on Duryunsan. story here. I wanted to climb the mountain, but the monk with whom I was speaking told me not to go, since it would soon be sundown and he didn't want me to get hurt. However, I rather obstinately (and I suppose in character) told him that I would go quickly and return unharmed.

It was late afternoon when I left the temple and hit the trail to Duryun Peak, and sometimes it was a little difficult to see the trail with the little light that filtered through the dense trees. However, I did manage to reach the ridgeline.

the ridgeline where I had to turn back

That was as far as I got. I knew I had to go back down, still 330 metres short of my goal. Even then, it was a little dangerous going down in the twilight.

Last weekend, over one year later, I conquered my peak. And then some. In the company of friends -- Daeyong, Elli and Sharon -- we started up the trail a little after noon, giving us plenty of time for our trek. This time the ridgeline yielded much more to see; instead of a bluish haze, we could see the South Sea, dotted with islands. Unfortunately, no glimpse of Jeju-do.

the ridgeline...again

After we reached Duryun Peak (630 metres), we went back to the ridgeline, and decided that we had enough energy to climb Garyeon Peak (703 metres).

weird pose...but I'm there!

I hate starting things and not finishing them. Now I have closure.

Korealist 2009: 3

2009-04-29T00:36:00.003+09:00

3: Watch a Bears baseball game in Jamsil

Done, and done. I decided to give myself an early birthday present, so I picked a game against Doosan's rivals, the SK Wyverns. The Bears delivered, with a 15-2 win.

Idiots on a bus

2009-04-27T17:51:00.006+09:00

My trip gave me a chance to reflect on some of my very, very wrong conceptions of Western and Korean society. Let me just start out with a disclaimer that no matter where one is from nor how much one tries to prevent it, ethnocentrism will creep into one's mindset when living abroad. It's just too easy to compare cultures and to remember "how good it was" back home.

When I'm walking around, getting the one-arm shove, being stared at, or hearing people clear their noses (through their throats) at a dinner table, I often slip into the mindset that I come from such a courteous, conscientious culture. When that happens, the easy way to return to reality is to swallow a dose of "we think we're still in college," a.k.a. a group of 20-30 year-olds. Might I suggest a festival?

Large festivals will definitely draw expats. This is great for expats who want to experience a facet of their host country's culture, but also can leave distasteful memories when they fail to conduct themselves in a respectable manner. This reflects badly on Westerners, but Americans in particular; even if the individuals are Australian or Swedish, the automatic assumption to the untrained Korean ear is that any white person speaking English (or, sometimes, any foreign tongue) is American.

It was on the bus from Mokpo to Jindo. There was a group of three people; two were Australian, and one, I think, was British. Thank God I don't have to claim any of them! We have enough imbeciles giving us a bad rep.

I had decided to avoid them the moment I saw one of them boarding the bus with a half-empty soju bottle. Unfortunately for me, there were precious few empty seats when I boarded. They took 3 of the 5 back seats, leaving two empty. I didn't care if my avoiding them would offend them; the last thing I wanted was to be bathing in vomit. I wisely took a seat in a row cattycorner to them.

True to form, they proved to be overly loud, obnoxious, overbearing and ethnocentric. Not only did they lack any form of volume control, but they even sang on a bus. SANG. I cringed during the silence between my songs when I heard them.

I debated for awhile whether to confront them or not. I was sure they were bothering the rest of the bus, but I didn't really want to create a loud conflict that would add 'violent' and 'aggressive' to Koreans' list of adjectives describing Westerners. So I swallowed my bile and sat in silence, and now I rather regret that. I wish I had asked them, politely, to lower their voices, just to prove that we're not all a crowd of drunken rabble-rousers. I'm ashamed to admit that my courage failed me.

Why would they get drunk and get on a bus? Did they not see what problems that would pose? It was only noon, for crying out loud!

Cue in the waegugin factor. Often, foreigners can get away with things that Koreans can't get away with. Sometimes we get extra services. Sometimes, a cop won't prevent you from jaywalking, just because of a language barrier. Sometimes you can have seats to yourself because people don't want to sit next to a foreigner.

But the waegugin factor cuts both ways. Sometimes we get ripped off just because we're foreign. Sometimes cops hone in on you because you're an easy target. All too often, people will stare at you, just because your hair is different, your skin is different, and you have a big nose.

Perhaps, in their minds, those three on the bus justified their behaviour because Koreans are heavy drinkers and do occasionally cause a ruckus in public places. But they must have forgotten that in a foreign country, they do, in fact, represent Western society, English-speakers, English teachers, and like I mentioned, Americans, regardless of their country of origin. Because no matter how educated a person is, or how objective a person tries to remain, one's perception of a people group will be formed by one's exposure to persons of that group.

It's time for us expats to recognize that we aren't as important as we think we are, we're not as immune as we think we are, and that we are held to a higher standard of behaviour because we are representatives of Western society, and our actions will influence Korean perceptions.

Korealist 2009: 7

2009-04-27T17:00:00.005+09:00

7: See the parted waters in Jindo

I walked the ocean road in Jindo!

Each year, the ocean parts in Jindo, due to the moon's influence on ocean currents, etc. But the mythical version is so much more fun.

Centuries ago, Jindo was full of tigers. One day, Jindo's inhabitants decided to sail a raft across a narrow inlet to the island of Modo. Unfortunately, they left dear old Grandmother Bbong to be eaten alive by the tigers.

Grandmother prayed to the Dragon King to be reunited with her family. The Dragon King told her to cross the rainbow to Modo. When she went to the sea, there was an arced passageway leading to Modo. She began to cross, but in her haste and excitement, she was overcome. Her family, also discovering the passageway, rushed to her, and she died in their arms, happy to be reunited.

The nice thing about legends is that you never have to include reality: why didn't the island's inhabitants learn how to swim instead of living there for years? how could you leave Grandma behind? why would Grandma want to be reunited with the people who deserted her? But as I said, you never have to even consider these things; it's a legend.

Korealist 2009: 14, 15 & 17

2009-04-20T22:55:00.003+09:00

14: Master past tense
15: Learn future tense

Done! The grammatical structure isn't exactly unbearable; my main task now is to actually pick up the vocabulary necessary to carry on a conversation beyond "Have you eaten [fill in the meal]?" and "What did you eat?" and "What will you eat for [fill in the meal]?" that not-so-surprisingly comprises a great deal of Korean conversation.

17: 320 gigs; 115,000원. I find it frustrating that the won button on my computer doesn't work...

My favourite part by far is the fact that the little circles light up when I plug it in. Cooool

Big TVs

2009-04-18T20:40:00.001+09:00

Yesterday, as I was walking home from school, I passed through AK Plaza. Usually, I take the stairs outside, but as my coworker was with me, I decided to go inside (she really likes to shop).

Periodically, the Plaza will have something akin to a sidewalk sale; vendors will take their sale items and display them at tables in the mall's hallways. Yesterday, one of the electronics vendors had a table set up in the main hall that runs from the east side to the west side of the building.

KyungHee was on my left, and so as we walked by I had a chance to see what was on the TVs. There were about 4 TVs on display, all with high-def screens. On two were some really pretty pictures. On the other two, though, was something different: apparently it was a movie.

The first glimpse I got was a between-the legs shot of a woman in a swimsuit as she lay tanning on a boat. First of all, might I point out what a curious film choice that is in a public setting where people of all ages may see it?

Second, it was interesting that four ajeossis were standing around these two TVs, their eyes unabashedly glued to the screens. I'm sure they were only admiring the picture quality, which obviously couldn't be admired on the other two TVs.

Noticing the men, I quickly pointed it out to KyungHee. We both started laughing. And curse my slowness! By the time I managed to pull my phone out of my pocket to take a picture, there were people in the way of perhaps the best shot of my life! At least one of the funniest shots of my life.

Being Korean, KyungHee did what I, as a representative of Western society, couldn't do: she pointed and started talking about them as loudly as she could in order to attract attention to these four 'gentlemen,' possibly hoping to shame them into tucking their..tails between their legs and going home to their wives?

Which brings me to wonder: could I actually be filmed in that type of a scene? Not necessarily a swimsuit shot, but the camera angle on that was a little risque. I don't think I can. The thought of three types of people watching a scene with me would deter me:

1) my mom. I can only imagine the response I would get from her.

2) my grandmothers. How perfectly horrifying!

3) old men and middle school boys. Need I say more?

Sick Daze part: the second

2009-04-07T17:50:00.012+09:00

Lunch today was yummy. It was a good-banchan day. We had soondae stir-fry, gimchi jjigae, buckwheat mook, and strawberries for dessert. Days like these make me happy. Add to that the fact that my sixth hour class was cancelled and that I'd be free after lunch. Also add to that the fact that I had confiscated water balloons and a water gun, which I immediately employed outside after lunch.

The day was definitely improving.

* * *

About two years ago, before I came to Korea, my mom and I headed to Denver to visit family. When we were there, I ordered naengmyeon, cold noodles in hot pepper sauce. We had it delivered. My mom, my aunt, my grandmother and I ate dinner, then went for a walk.

It was dusk when we arrived home, the air was cool near the mountains, and we sat outside to enjoy the weather. Suddenly I started feeling weird. I was itchy. My throat felt like it was constricting. My face skin felt stretched.

I got scared, and so did everybody else. Even grandma, the woman who beat a huge snake senseless while in her sixties (I was a witness), was worried. It was mostly the whole air flow thing that was really an issue.

My aunt and grandmother don't know how to drive, and for some reason my mother couldn't drive (I think she was on medicine?). Anyhow, I was the only driver in the house, and I was the one who was sick. There was no allergy medicine in the house, but my aunt remembered that she had Benadryl cream.

Half a Benadryl tube and one lathered upper body later, I was feeling much better and everybody was relaxed. I had eaten naengmyeon before and was perfectly fine; we decided there was something wrong with the egg.

* * *

I forgot about that little incident until about a half-hour after lunch. I suddenly started coughing violently and wheezing. True, I'm getting over 'the cold that wouldn't die,' but this coughing was completely different. My throat felt constricted, and my palms itched. I went to the nurse's office, and she gave me some medicine. I think she gave me a pill for a throatache, and I don't question her capabilities in any way; the fault rests entirely on my inability to describe my symptoms. I returned to my desk. After about five more minutes, I glance in the mirror and saw my red, hived face. I grabbed an English teacher and we saw the nurse. She gave me an antihistamine.

When my friend came down from her class, she took me to the hospital. I have a food allergy. Apparently, each reaction gets progressively worse, and they are potentially fatal. It's difficult to determine to what exactly I'm allergic: they'd have to hospitalize me and feed me today's lunch menu ingredient-by-ingredient, and once we find out they'll pump me full of drugs, as I'll be ballooning out and wheezing.

I got my first IV drip. That was exciting. My friend managed to snap a few pictures before the nurse kicked her out.

I feel so much cooler now, just knowing that for over an hour, I was among the number that includes the select few who take stupid risks and are consequently hospitalized.
We are: the IVees.
(There are three syllables in the last word. You'll sound stupid of you mispronounce it. People will point and laugh.)

It took over an hour for the drip to finish. I slept for awhile, but then they moved a man into the bed next to me and he snored. He sounded like those WWII bombers when they dive and pull up. The lady on the left of me snored, too, but she wasn't that bad. And the lady in the bed cattycorner to me had the most annoying phone jingle, and she never managed to turn off the sound on her buttons.

While I was awake and doing nothing but answering text messages, I had time to contemplate life's deep questions. I was just told that my allergy could be fatal, yes, but my focus wasn't on mortality or life's meaning, I was actually more focused on the fluid entering my body. Once it enters my bloodstream, where does it go? It can't stay in there; my veins would burst. I'm assuming that it osmosizes through my vein's cell walls, but where does it go after that? Does it float lazily through my body, as on a river? Or does it speed to my stomach and digestive tract? Is that what made me have to use the washroom so badly, or was it the single cup of coffee I had this morning? Or is it a combination? Friends who are biologists or health-caregivers, (or people who for whatever strange reason 'just know') let me know!

I also had time to notice the little hole in the big toe of my right sock, which would have gone unnoticed had I not been in that particular situation. Which brings me to the age-old question: darn, or purchase? I will test the clothal area around the hole to determine which is the more feasible option.

As we were leaving, my friend and I talked about what could have caused my reaction. I eat all of the food on a regular basis, except for the buckwheat mook. I wonder if the Denver naengmyeon had buckwheat in it, and if so, why did I never experience a reaction during those many many times I've eaten naengmyeon in Korea? Did they not contain buckwheat? And then again, just last month I had buckwheat ddeok & dumpling soup, and I didn't have any adverse reactions. Is it a combination of buckwheat and red pepper paste? I don't really know what to do except avoid buckwheat, and hope that that is, in fact, the cause of my food allergy.

There's really nothing more to say. I have to keep an eye on my health, and if I experience a recurrance, I have to head straight to the emergency room. I guess I can tout about the service and the fee: for over an hour in the hospital, I spent a whopping 5,000won.

The weather's still really great, and I walked home from work. On the way I picked up some ice cream and Pringles. After checking the ingredients list and coming clean, I enjoyed. After all that coughing, the ice cream was especially soothing.

So I got out of school early, took a nap for a half-hour, and ate ice cream; assuming that I don't have another one of these occurrences, I'd say that I'm the winner!

PS: One more thing
5 April, 2009
I believe I've discovered Korea's best Mexican restaurant: Poncho's, in Itaewon. I'd say it's better than On the Border, but I've never been a big fan of OTB, even in the U.S. Also, Poncho's hires authentic employees (Filipino is close enough, right? I mean, it WAS a colony, so it's got the old-World Spanish flavour!). Strangely, it was with, and at the suggestion of, my aunt and cousin, who had never before stepped inside Itaewon. lol

Sick Daze part: the first

2009-03-27T21:59:00.005+09:00

According to Mercer's Cost of Living Survey, Seoul is the 5th most expensive city in the world. Although it's ridiculously cheap to visit right now, considering the won's weakness, it's still expensive for those who are getting paid in won. If I wasn't losing so much money in the currency exchange, I'd be seriously at risk of blowing a lot on a shopping spree when I return to the States.

However, there are some oases in this mark-up hell; one is medicine.

After getting over a cold about a week ago, I was dismayed yesterday to feel the symptoms returning. Strangely, though, they were accompanied with another: my left eye felt sticky. To further confuse me, last night I realized that the stuffiness was only in my left nostril. Usually, when you have a cold, the stuffiness will oscillate between the left and right nostrils, but this one wouldn't budge, though I slept on my right side all night.

This morning, it occurred to me that instead of a cold, these might be allergy symptoms. I've been eating a lot of leeks lately, and somehow I remember that when I overdose on them, I tend to have a slight allergic reaction. So I took some benadryl and headed to work.

The stuffiness dissipated, and the sticky feeling in my eye left, but they were replaced with something far worse: drowsiness. I'm a sucker with meds: kids' Tylenol can knock me out. After stumbling through my three classes, losing my train of thought multiple times, I decided to call it a day and go home.

I slept awhile, then went to an ENT clinic for some meds. The waiting room was all granite, with leather chairs. When I walked into the consultation room, though, I knew the place would be costly.

There were two tv screens, one for the doctor to see, and one mounted on the ceiling for the patient. Feeding into the tvs was a camera. The doctor stuck the camera down my swollen throat, then stuck it up my nose. The right nostril first, then the left.

That was embarrassing, watching it on the screen. As the camera captured my enlarged nose hairs and yellow infected mucus, I felt horrified, especially knowing that my friend was probably watching it as well. It's like somebody walking in on you naked...dancing to Shakira...not that I ever do that, of course. EVER.

The doctor, like the other Korean doctors with whom I've come into contact, spoke English. He told me that my something something was infected (pointing it out on the plastic model) and that the infection had spread down into my throat. When I asked if it was a sinus infection (it's my annual visitor), he said no, and pointed out my sinuses, then the something something under my sinuses. (As if I understood any of that. All I got was the gist: 'infection, take pills').

I had my credit card ready. I only had 10,000 won, and somebody has to pay for that fancy equipment, right? Cost: 3,500. Pills: 2,500.

6,000 for a doctor's visit and medicine? My co-pay in the US is $20!

I know it's not just a good insurance program: medicine is just much, much cheaper. I know, because when I had my traveler's shots, which are not covered by insurance, they were still cheap.

Which brings me to the question: why is medicine so much more expensive in the US? Is it because there are too many lawsuits filed against doctors? Is it because too many people visit hospitals to get drugs? Is the US a leader in medical R&D and raises costs to cover research fees? Is it because Korean western medicine needs to offer an affordable alternative to the competing 한약, or Oriental medicine?

I don't know the answer; all I know is that I'm going to try to get as many things fixed as I can before I leave!

팔순

2009-03-24T15:36:00.006+09:00

I haven't been to a traditional Korean celebration in years. I think the last time was for my grandma or grandpa's 60th birthday, when I was under 10.

So I didn't really know what to expect when my uncle asked me to come to my grandma's 80th birthday party (팔순). Coming from work and a lunch date with my friend, I was in an oxford, jeans, and a sport coat; I'm so happy that I actually asked my uncle about dress code: church clothes.

Of course I was late. I changed, printed a map of the place, and promptly left it on my desk. Normally, it's about 1 1/2 hours away, but I managed to make it longer. I thought catching a bus to Yeouido would be a quick route. Little did I know that it goes through Gwacheon, Sadang station, and apparently all the side streets in southwestern Seoul. Despite the few cherry blossoms I caught glimpses of, I was not especially thrilled when I arrived in Yeouido an hour and a half after I left.

After another 45 minutes on the subway, I arrived at Galsan Station. Although I didn't have the map, I could remember exit two and something about GM/Daewoo. After emerging from exit 2, I saw some GM plant across the street and started walking. After about 20 minutes, and realizing that I was approaching another subway station (and watching a man vomit on the sidewalk just feet from me--it's 6:45 for crying out loud!), I decided to ask for directions (not from the vomit guy). A man pointed me in the right direction: the direction from which I had come. After about 10 minutes, I stopped some ladies; they told me to keep going. After about five more minutes, I walked into a CVS and asked the cashier; she pointed me in the same direction. Finally I saw the place. There it was, just feet from exit 2... (>_<)

I can pretty much sum up the party with one word: awkwarrrd. Based on my limited Korean and my family's limited English, I was limited to eating (in true Korean fashion, they kept bringing me food) and communicating via...a 9-year old. LOL. I spoke a bit of Korean to my family, and then they rattled off fluency-requiring Korean at the speed of light; the funny part is that after witnessing my blank stare, they had the 9-year old (Minju) translate even simple questions. Between so many relatives I must have said that I'm leaving in July at least 5 times. I also had to keep repeating that mom, dad, and Austin are all doing well, I live in --si, I work at --Jung Hakgyo, and yes, I'm MyongJa's daughter. All through a 9-year old. She's a cute kid, and her English is excellent. I'm considering hiring her.

In addition to wanting to give my grandma her gift, I wanted to see what the ceremony would entail. My aunts wore matching hanbok, while my uncles wore suits. I wish I could have seen what happened in the hour before I arrived, like if there was any ceremony or if they insa'd or anything. Dang. I hate that bus.

the .mp3 to .kmp muddle

2009-03-17T18:04:00.020+09:00

When I bought my phone I was excited about incorporating different functions into one device. I had never put music on my old phone because without a miniSD, it would have required the costly process of downloading songs directly to the phone.

However, this excitement was short-lived when I learned that LG CYON, in conjunction with music player dosirak, requires people to buy songs from the dosirak site, or pay to convert mp3 files to the unknown file extension .kmp. I hate this attempted monopolization; this is why I didn't want an iPod*, and why I would never buy a Sony camera: they create certain specifications which require customers to purchase exclusively from them or their lackeys. In a world of growing technological uniformity (phone charger pins, for example), I hope the public realizes that these companies should be avoided lest everybody suffer.

It's not that I'm poor (although I expect to be very, very soon). Nor do I condone pirating songs. But after purchasing the songs, I don't expect to pay extra for a conversion.

To further exacerbate any annoyances with this necessary conversion, .kmp files are virtually worthless: they can only be played on phones, unless one wishes to waste valuable time and precious memory downloading a .kmp player.

Back to my story. Despite this hiccough, things were going swimmingly until I, through unfortunate circumstances, lost my mp3 player in the Philippines. I was left with nothing but the k-pop on my phone, and one can handle only so much girl pop and pretty-boy bands before wanting to hurl the phone (or oneself) from the 24th floor.

I thought a bit about buying a new mp3 player. However, I'm not sure if my phone will work in the States, and if not, I would like to buy a haptic (assuming that phones in the US don't require special file extensions). I decided to put some more music on my phone.

Yesterday was a beautiful day, and I wanted to go for a walk. But as Hanna put it, "What's life without music?" What, indeed? I wanted to update my playlist, and I was so desperate to go outside that I was willing to shell out some cash to convert my songs.

After struggling with the dosirak site (all in Korean), I decided to find my own converter. I'll admit, I'm not the most tech-savvy monkey, but I decided to give it a shot. I google'd in vain. Apparently, while I can convert protected .wma's to mp3s, the .kmp is in a league of its own. Suddenly after hours of fruitless searching, an epiphany screeched into my brain.

When in Korea, do as the Koreans do. Here, in a hub of digital 'legal tolerance' and free downloads, why shouldn't there be converters from .mp3s to .kmp's? I couldn't find a converter simply because I was looking in the wrong place. If these CYON phones are designed to screw Koreans, of course Koreans would have found a way around. It was just a matter of searching in Korean.

My first search on Naver yielded results. I downloaded the converter program, and proceeded to convert my playlist to .kmp files. With a little miniSD action, I was on my way to enjoying my songs from the comfort of my own phone.

Take that, greedy buggers at LG CYON & dosirak!

Today's another beautiful day, and I'm going for a walk.

*The iPod/iTunes consumer cycle isn't the only reason why I didn't want to buy an iPod. I couldn't stand the American public's lemming love affair with a featureless circle. In my mind, it's merely troll dolls, virtual pets, the Spice Girls and Titanic all over again: more hype than substance.
In true American fashion, Apple popularized the mp3 player, leaving it to the Asians to draw in the details.
I've preferred less-hyped brands that offer more features, like my old Samsung K5. With touch controls and slide-out speakers, it was a much better option for an individual who prefers more than a name, or bright preteen colours.

To do list

2009-03-16T13:43:00.004+09:00

As my time winds down, I'm confronted by attention-starved checklist items, all screaming for fulfillment. I realize that despite all the living I've done during my stay, there have been too many lazy weekends on the couch watching TV, shopping in Myongdong, or Caribouing in Edae.

Some of the things I haven't done are actually quite ridiculous, as they're things that everybody is supposed to do in Korea, like visiting the folk village or seeing Busan. While, in my defense, I can point out various off-the-beaten-track places I've seen, I do want to visit the on-the-beaten-track places as well.

So without further ado, I present Korealist 2009.

Tour the three Seoul palaces I haven't yet visited: 창덕궁, 창경궁 & 경희궁
Climb Mt. Bukhan
Watch a Bears baseball game in Jamsil
Watch an Ilhwa soccer game
Buy a nice camera and spend a whole day wandering around Seoul, taking pictures
See the giant free-standing Buddha on Songnisan
See the parted waters in Jindo
Actually visit Busan
Actually visit Japan
Eat live octopus
Do my taxes before August
See Dokdo
Visit the folk village near Yongin
Master past tense
Learn future tense
Buy a new mp3 player
Buy external memory, as my computer is completely out
See the Zen Rocks in northern Seoul
Visit Seodaemun prison

Updates will be posted as I do these and add others.

On pizza

2009-03-16T00:22:00.004+09:00

Today I ate pizza for dinner.

In over 1 1/2 years, I think this is the fourth time I've dined in a pizza restaurant, so I don't really have many opportunities to observe Korean pizza etiquette.

Most westerners (AMERICANS) I know complain about pizza in Korea. Personally, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn on pizza don't disgust me. In fact, I find a crust stuffed with sweet potato and covered in cheddar quite appealing and tasty. And while I don't appreciate the use of Tobasco instead of crushed red pepper flakes, or the insufficient salad bar (what? No shredded cheese? No green peas? Unlabeled dressing spoons?!), I don't believe any of these offend the gods of the marinara. In fact, using a fork and knife to eat pizza doesn't even bother me; it's just something to laugh at!

What bothers me can be summed up in one word: pickles.

Yes, Koreans eat pickles with their pizza. They also eat pickles with their pasta. That's just plain wrong.

As a non-Italian American, I realize that I may not have the last word on what may or may not be consumed with pizza. However, the American pizza, oven-fried in its own grease, is very different from the relatively light Italian pizza, and this is the pizza that has been marketed around the world by home-grown companies like Pizza Hut and Papa John's, and has found its way into the stomachs, butts, thighs, cholesterol levels and hearts of aficionados all over the world. Therefore, I think I can confidently say that as an American, raised on grease-slathered pizza since infancy, I am an expert.

And I condemn the consumption of pickles with pizza.

Why can't Koreans eat pizza like Americans? While my family might not necessarily be the white, 1950s Dick-and-Jane version of the 'All-American family,' we are still, in fact, an all-American family: we lived in the 'burbs with a barbecue on the back patio. Why can't Koreans eat pizza like my family? Our version tastes better, and it's definitely better for one's health.

Korea: drop the pickles! Eat your pizza and pasta as God intended: with kimchi!

Sidenote: the unlabeled dressing spoons really bother me. Today, what was apparently honey mustard ended up being that butter garlic dip for one's crust.

Sidenote 2: I've always been perplexed by the fact that Koreans eat a whole meal for breakfast. To me, coffee is sufficient. A banana if I'm hungry, and real food is only for the weekends when I wake up before noon. I've never understood how Koreans can eat rice, soup & banchan for breakfast. Then I remembered leftover pizza, and suddenly everything made sense.

Things on my mind

2009-03-14T17:30:00.007+09:00

For the past few weeks I've been a little stressed. Getting back into the gear of school, creating lesson plans, and a nasty head cold left me crawling willingly into bed around seven pm, and crawling unwillingly out of bed at seven am.

The most stressful thing, gnawing incessantly on the back of my mind, was the thought of the enormonguous debt I will be procuring over the next three years. Add to that the fact that I can't even fill out my loan applications because I need my parents' tax information. Yes, amazingly, even though I'm no longer a dependent, have NEVER had my parents pay for my education, and live halfway across the world from my parents' pocketbooks, law schools somehow expect that my parents are going to be helping me with my education, meaning that I need their tax information.

Sidenote: need-based grants?! When you're talking about a $150,000 debt, who WOULDN'T qualify?

Throw in a faltering economy whose hiring rates may or may not improve in three years. I recently read in the Post that some of the nation's largest law firms are downsizing. Big debt + no job? I could feel my stress compounding continuously.

Factor in yesterday. I knew that I would be receiving an acceptance packet from George Washington, but when the envelopes arrived I found a neat little gem: a scholarship letter! Apparently I'm getting a hefty chunk of tuition paid for, in addition to housing for my first year. I did a silly little dance, hopping moronically around my flat, stylistically reminiscent of Mr. Bean on Christmas, then emailed my parents to tell them that they don't have to feel SO guilty about not donating a red cent to my law school fund. (I jest. Honestly, my mom has offered to help, but I declined. Strangely, dad never offered...)

Factor in this morning. I receive an email from Northwestern telling me that I've been accepted, and that I better fill out my financial aid applications pronto.

And suddenly it dawns on me. In four months, I'm going to drop the life that I've created, and start something completely different.

Already my mind is swimming with melancholy reminders of the things I can't pack up and take: the safe busyness of Seoul, weekend trips to secluded temples and mountain tops, the beautiful people I've befriended and have come to love...

At this point, I'm not sure if I can live the rest of my life without spending more time in this beautiful country. Not just visiting for a week, or a month, but living. As exasperating as Korean society can sometimes be to a westerner, and as much as I miss things like American football, pit barbecue and company softball leagues, this place has truly become...home.

Lists coming up soon.

Pumpkin pie in a chiggae world

2008-11-28T22:41:00.008+09:00

Most Americans parallel Thanksgiving with turkey. Of course, there are many deeper meanings to Thanksgiving--Pilgrims establishing the first surviving colony in the future US, family, friends and giving thanks for our blessings--but let's not get all sappy about it, eh? We as a culture are very frank and unemotional so let's face it: in our image-devouring, marketing-reliant society it's easier to symbolize Thanksgiving with a picture of a turkey than to convey an image of family, friends and giving thanks. Happily, we can incorporate other meanings into our turkey: putting it in a Pilgrim hat with buckled shoes, or surrounding it with family and friends (green beans, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes), but the focus is on the turkey. We call Thanksgiving 'Turkey Day' because we identify turkey as a central theme to the holiday.

That's not the case with me.

I'm more of a pumpkin pie girl.

Why focus on a dry, dead bird when you can think of succulent, rich, creamy, moist pumpkin pie? The ambrosia of autumn--a whirlwind of flavourful spices lovingly embraced by a flaky, buttery crust.

If there's anything my mother can be proud of regarding her baking (and there are many), it's her pies. Pumpkin and apple are her best, and they grace the dinner table every Thanksgiving, and usually on Christmas as well. I still can't decide which I like better; I'm naturally disposed to pumpkin pie, but that French crust on an apple pie is a difficult contender.

There are reasons why her pumpkin pies always turn out so delectable: first, she's an experienced cook and baker and she knows what she's doing; second, she puts loads of love and care into her work (now I'm getting sappy, but it's my mom and I love her); and third, she uses only the best ingredients. None of that crap-coloured canned puree in our house, thank you very much.

After skipping my share of pumpkin pie last autumn, I was undergoing some serious cravings. Against the odds, and against my better judgment, I decided to bake my own pumpkin pie.

And I surprised myself.

Living in Korea, I have a newly-acquired toaster oven to serve as my baking headquarters. I never wanted to spend loads of money on kitchen appliances and equipment that I wouldn't take home, so my baking is done sans les beaters, with pots and a rice cooker bowl to serve as mixing bowls. Some last-minute acquisitions of tart pans and a potato masher only reminded me of how difficult it would be.

I couldn't really find recipes for toaster-oven pumpkin pie, so I just decided to wing it and hope for the best. My biggest problem, I knew, would be the crust. Butter is way too expensive for my miserly budget, and I have no idea where I can find a can of Crisco in Korea. Luckily, I found a recipe for a crust made with oil, which I never even knew was a possibility. I made my dough, split it into fourths, flattened them out with my hands, put them into the tart pans and even remembered to poke holes in the bottoms and sides. They're ugly; I didn't spend too much time pinching the tops with my fingertips, but they're ok. I learned not to use extra-virgin olive oil in the future, and that the recipe calls for entirely too much salt.

I checked and rechecked the pies as they were baking; my worst fear was a burnt crust and a runny filling. Happily, the crust was golden-brown by the time the toothpick came out clean, so I pulled it out. I couldn't wait; after about five minutes, I cut out a quarter and ate it.

Not as good as mom's, but better than frozen. I don't even know how long they baked, and I hope I'll never have to relive this experience again. Tart pan pumpkin pies are just too much work.

the crust

Next up? Pumpkin bread.

Current Events part 3

2008-10-01T18:54:00.007+09:00

So I've been studying like mad for my LSAT, and I'm only posting this because I needed a break and this was almost finished anyhow.

독도 (Dokdo/獨島): [I have no sarcastic subtitle for this]

Background: Japan's been claiming Dokdo since the ROK's founding, and lately it decided to take a different approach. The issue was basically unknown in Japan, and they recently implemented a plan to include in public school curricula that Dokdo is Japanese. Coincidentally, it was around this time that the US Library of Congress considered changing its registry from Dokdo as Korean land, to the Liancourt Rocks as disputed territory. This was delayed by a Korean-Canadian librarian. Also, it was discovered that the US Board of Geographical Names had changed its entry from Dokdo as Korean land, to the Liancourt Rocks as disputed territory. In addition, in its list of other names, it places Takeshima (Japan's name for the island) before Dokdo. Need I say that this doesn't make alphabetical sense? President Bush, on learning of it from the Korean Embassy, worked with Secretary Rice to change the entry.

This issue has been going on for years. There are many old maps, both Korean & Japanese, that recognize what is supposedly the island under many different names; furthermore, they place it in different locations around 울릉도 (Ulleungdo), the larger island west of Dokdo. These inaccuracies can easily be explained when one accounts for dynastic changes, local vs. official nomenclature, and the limited cartographical knowledge available at the time. Japan's proposed numerous times to take the matter before international court, but Korea's refused.

Conclusion: Let's put it like this. Korea claims that Dokdo, under the name of Usando, was first mentioned in The History of the Three Kingdoms during the Shilla Dynasty. As time progressed, different names have been given to the island, as it was uninhabited: Sambongdo (삼봉도, or 3-peak island), Seokdo (독섬 - Deoksam, or rocky island, is translated into into Hanja as both Dokdo and Seokdo), and Gajido (seal island). While old maps place Dokdo in the wrong spots, the fact remains that, despite cartographical errors, the islands under their various names were recognized by the Korean government as Korean territory. That's the Korean side. Yet in my limited research, nothing in Korean records indicates that Dokdo is officially Korean territory, much as I'd like to believe it. The fact that I know neither Japanese nor Chinese only stresses my inability to properly research available documents.

March 1936 Japanese Army General Staff office map
This marks the island as Korean

Japan also claims historical title to Dokdo; if that was the case, why do old, official Japanese maps recognize it as Korean territory? Furthermore, why did Japan annex it in 1905, if it has been Japanese territory for centuries, as some claim? Yet the fact that Japan recognized the land as Korean does not mean that Korea had ever claimed the land for itself. Some radicals claim that Koreans didn't know of the island's existence, but this is ridiculous; one can easily see the island from Ulleungdo on a clear day. Korea's knowledge of this island does not mean that it had formally claimed it as Korean land; however, this could possibly have been offset by Korea considering it de facto Korean territory.

My perspective is that neither side has made a foolproof argument that would stand up in court. I type this with regret because in my heart I believe that it is Korean land, but my head tells me that it's still debatable.

From a pro-Korean perspective, Korea should start thinking internationally; refusing to go before international court makes the world think it hasn't a case. Of course, it makes sense that the ROK wouldn't want to appear before international court. First of all, previous International Court of Justice decisions have favoured action over historical legitimacy. If the ICJ goes with this precedent, Korea may 'lose' (these decisions are non-binding) possession of the island. Hopefully (here's where this becomes very biased), though, the ICJ would take into account the fact that Korea, basically governed by Japan when Japan annexed the island, and didn't really have any say in the matter. In fact, when local Korean officials learned that Japan had annexed the island, they sent in protests to the central government. Why would they do that unless they understood it to be Korean land?

Furthermore, despite Korea's miraculous economic development, most people would favour Japan just because they are more familiar with its culture. The world is full of Japanophiles, just because of sushi, Honda and that ridiculous Pokemon or whatever anime is popular right now (not downing sushi or Honda, definitely downing Pokemon). Korea is still in many ways the hermit kingdom. 한류, or the 'Korean wave,' hasn't spread far outside of Asia. Korea needs to realize that the majority of developed nations (and much international power, rightly or wrongly) lie within Western civilization. Because Japan has spread its culture, and because Japan appears more westernized, western countries feel closer to Japan; people feel more comfortable with that which they recognize. Korea has already spread its companies into western nations; now it needs to spread its culture. (Hint, Korea: appearing like a developing nation on international television by rioting and assaulting police officers doesn't help your case.)

This matter needs to be resolved somehow, whether by sharing the island, or by throwing additional effort into researching the matter to conclusively decide the debate. I know this is obvious, but recent peninsular developments only increase the need for the ROK and Japan to work together closely. Kim Jong-Il's deteriorating condition, which the DPRK continues to deny, could lead to his death or incapability to govern the land. (I use the term 'govern' very loosely; I consider neither throwing people into gulags -- or worse -- for the smallest offenses nor obsessing about nuclear weaponry, expensive cognac and toys while one's population starves effective governing. But that's another matter, as well as a really long sentence. Apologies.)

If and when Kim Kong-Ill loses control of the DPRK, most likely the country will either be thrown into chaos, or the military will adopt a hard-line stance to solidify its power. Already the DPRK diplomatic pendulum is swinging back towards neuroticism. Each scenario poses a threat for both the ROK and Japan. The DPRK displays deep-seated resentment against both nations, and has threatened both nations on multiple occasions, through the use of military threats, or the kidnapping of nationals. A treaty with China promising mutual military aid raises the stakes. The ROK and Japan must resolve their differences and work together to protect themselves. Strange bedfellows, perhaps, but, in my opinion, necessary.

Current Events part 2

2008-08-14T15:53:00.017+09:00

American beef: a study in illogic

Background: hoof-and-mouth is found in American beef, Koreans decide that the government is not doing its job of inspecting beef imports from America. Beef imports are about to be renewed, and people take to the streets. News media goes on a feeding frenzy: "there's a 94% chance of contracting vCJD from American beef" and "and an American died of vCJD"; both were false. Bloggers were no better: one rumour was that Americans sort their beef and send the bad beef to Korea.

The government renegotiates with the US, the US accepts the new contracts, and most people leave the protests. The remaining go on to deface public & private property, continuing to cut off downtown Seoul & disrupt public transit.

Conclusion: OMG. Are we freakin stupid?! When I was describing it to my K-A mother, she remarked that Koreans are susceptible to overlooking logic in preference of emotion; and I think that's a pretty good assessment of this case. Yeah, sometimes we have to make a point to the government, and illegally occupying a few streets to ensure personal safety should not be prosecuted.

But those who remained after the renegotiations are just a bunch of rabble-rousers: losers who are exploiting the circumstances to give themselves a sense of power, or conniving rats exploiting the circumstances to promote their political ideologies. They should all be sued and jailed: for preventing area residents access to emergency care by blocking streets, for assaulting police officers, for damaging private & public property, for hurting area businesses by discouraging patrons, and for targeting private businesses that were on their blacklists. Then after their sentences conclude they should be beaten by private citizens for all this, and for damaging Korea’s economy (fiscal credibility and FDI plummeted) and for making Korea appear to the international community as a group of self-centered hormonal apes on speed. Media who practiced biased reporting should have their licenses on probation; they should be so scared of handling controversial issues that they lose millions of dollars because their stories are centered mostly on water-skiing squirrels and cat fashion shows (needed an Anchorman throwback there, hahaha). As for those inciting hysteria online—they’re a bunch of cowards, hiding in their parents’ basements behind fake internet ids. They would yell "fire!" in a theatre, but it's just so much safer and more comfy for them to do it from the privacy of their parents' homes.

And to those in general who were swept away in the hysteria: seriously. 33,000 American soldiers died in the Korean War, we spent millions in economic & food aid, just so we could play the part of mad scientist and send our diseased beef (pre-sorted, of course) to poison and kill South Koreans? South Koreans who comprise one of our strategic allies in NE Asia and in the NK denuclearization/human rights talks? Especially now that there’s a pro-American president in office? Or was it all to make a few bucks on the beef sales? What an investment! What logic!

I just had a breakthrough re: this year's Halloween costume

Further Remarks: Korea has started a space program, it's created multiple Free Economic Zones, one of its own is the UN Secretary-General, and it has recently produced several world-class athletes—all these indicate that Korea wants to step up as a global player. Yet incidents like these prevent the international community from taking the country seriously.

Equally as important for Korea, though, is that incidents like these present Korea in a negative light to the rest of the world. Not only do they hurt the country economically, but they could also compromise its position in disputes, such as its claim to Dokdo: Japan's quiet reserve would appeal to the world much more favourably than Korea's raucous demonstrations.

Korea is an economic miracle. Its companies are some of the richest in the world. Despite its development, it still boasts a low crime rate. Its students are found in America's top universities and are known for their discipline and dedication. This is a country full of respectable and mature adults. People work hard, and save a lot of money. Yet there are a few radicals who will sacrifice anything for their own personal gains (I actually mean in addition to the corrupt CEOs). Korea needs to learn how to control these elements before they jeopardize the nation's economic and political interests.

Current Events part 1

2008-08-12T16:36:00.007+09:00

I must admit, I’ve rather ignored the politics/current news aspect in my blogging. I’ve been self-centered in my blogging, focusing on me & my travels instead of including the world around me. Actually, I’ve been extremely self-centered in my blogging, focusing on me & my travels and not really doing any blogging. Today, for the day, that shall end.

Korea, and NE Asia in general, have been the focus of domestic and international attention for the past few months, and I have not even begun to address these issues. In my defense, however, I must point to the fact that work and my personal life have kept me very busy, especially these past two weeks. I just completed two weeks of English camp—2 90-minute classes each weekday morning—and, like a dolt, I had the novel idea of making up my own lesson plans and syllabus instead of relying on prepared plans. Needless to say, I was busy: most days saw me crawling into bed around midnight or one, most of my evening having been spent on the next day’s lesson.

But again, I’m digressing from my original goal and focusing on myself. Back to current affairs. In the last few months, we’ve seen the approach (and now arrival) of the Beijing Olympics, a nationwide hysteria (& subsequent rioting) about American beef, Japan’s renewal of its plans to seize Dokdo, and a South Korean tourist killed in North Korea. I will address each of these in a separate blog, presenting the background and my unexpert (but extremely common-sensical) conclusion on the topic. This will be a short four-part series. Here's your first little treat.

Beijing Olympics: how did that happen?

Background: China got the Olympics, Olympic Committee officials said, to open China up. BS. In addition to NOT improving its human rights records at all, China has decided to delay broadcast to clean up any blemishes (people telling the truth about the country) and has restricted press freedom, which it explicitly promised not to do.

Conclusion: this isn’t the first time the glory of international bonding and competition has been tainted (think Berlin 1936), but it is dishonourable nonetheless. The Olympic Charter states, as a Fundamental Principle of Olympism, "Olympism seeks to create a way of life based on...respect for universal fundamental ethical principles." Since when do universal fundamental ethical principles include repression of religious freedom, political dissidence, the freedom of the press, and self-determination? Since when do universal fundamental ethical principles include repatriating refugees, knowing full well that they will suffer torture, incarceration, and/or execution? By choosing Beijing as the 2008 venue, the IOC has indirectly condoned these rights violations practiced regularly by the host country. I think inquiries should be made into both the integrity & intelligence of the IOC members.

Decisions, decisions

2008-05-27T18:01:00.002+09:00

16 May 2008

Today was a wonderful day. Until about 30 minutes ago. 30 minutes ago, a simple question forced me to face my future, and started a chain of thoughts which only provoked some very unwelcome questions.

What happens when you’re forced to choose between what you want to do in the present and the possibility of doing what you dreamed of achieving in the past? What happens when you suddenly realize that everything you worked for in the past, everything that was of upmost importance, might not matter anymore? Or, though it does matter, it just doesn’t matter as much? What do you do when you feel a realignment of priorities, but are unsure whether this is a temporary or permanent shift, and despite this uncertainty, have to make a decision which will definitely be a permanent decision? What do you do when you need to make a decision that will determine your future and you don’t know what you want your future to look like?

Here’s the deal. Five months ago I applied to various law schools, naively expecting a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ response. Two graciously extended a ‘no’; one never did respond; and three put me on the waitlist.

Let it be known that I think waitlists are the spawn of Satan.

They place you in a sort of damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t limbo. You can’t pursue your life because there’s the remote possibility of acceptance; you can’t remove yourself from the waitlist because then you are permanently screwed as far as that school is concerned.

A few weeks ago my co-teacher KyungHee had asked if I planned on renewing my contract. I had decided, to myself, to renew it if I didn’t get accepted into the law schools. Really, I enjoy my job: I love my kids, and my coworkers are a blast to be around. I’ll admit that there was a smidgen of hope that I could stay and work here for another year. Is that being irresponsible? Is that placing temporary desires above my future? I don’t know, but that’s what I felt.

I had asked her to give me until May 15 when I receive my response for the waitlist…or 16^th, when one accounts for the time differences. And today, May 16^th, she asked me again.

I didn’t have an answer. I had checked my email, and I had not made the first cut on the waitlist. I was re-waitlisted.

I told her of the situation and asked her if I could have a little more time to think it over, and she was nice enough to say yes. We agreed that I’d let her know on Monday.

So here I am, faced with one of the largest decisions of my life. Right now, I’m feeling pretty stressed.

17 May 2008

Today was a pretty nice day. JungMin and I decided to take advantage of the pleasant spring feeling, and took our Broadcast Club kids to a movie. We caught a 9:30 screening of Prince Caspian; it’s 4,000원 for the kids, and free for teachers. Sweet! The film was really good, but also really long; it felt a little bit weird walking around after sitting for so long! The kids really enjoyed it, and I could tell that my girls had crushes on Peter (which is perfectly reasonable, as I had to keep reminding myself that he’s much younger than I!) because their whispering always got louder when he was in the scene.

After the film we let the kids go, and I went home. No plans today, just laze around and clean up the flat. But there was one very important thing I had to do.

I called my mom.

Yesterday KyungHee had suggested that I ask my parents for advice regarding my renewal decision. I had just smiled on the inside; I rarely ask anybody for advice, and I never ask my parents for advice.

Yet as my mind went in circles, her suggestion made more and more sense. Really, neither of my parents has ever had to make a decision like this one. But I know that they’ve made hard decisions before, and they have plenty of experience; if anything, they would just be fairly objective guides who could help walk me through my thoughts.

I had mostly decided to renew my contract. Part of the reason why I didn’t want to call mom is because I was afraid that she’d disagree with my decision. Being a Korean mother, she’s the one who’s been pushing me to apply to law schools; she wants me to hurry up and settle down.

I was surprised. Mom was perfectly objective; she didn’t let any of her personal feelings lend subjectivity to the choice. As I spoke with her, I realized that, really, it’s simple logic: if I decide to renew my contract, I will have a job I enjoy and risk getting accepted by a school and not going. If I decide not to renew my contract, I will not have a job I enjoy, and I risk not getting accepted by a school and having to start all over with my job hunt and my law school applications. I risk losing more by not renewing. She felt the same way and recommended that I renew my contract.

I felt so relieved after talking to her. Sorting out my thoughts and getting backing for my decision from an unexpected quarter made me feel so much more confident. When I’m indecisive, I feel unconfident; when I’m unconfident, I feel vulnerable. Those feelings melted away as I spoke with my mother.

Thanks, KyungHee, for the wonderful advice.

27 May 2008

Whoa, I’m typing this up, and it sounds SO sappy. Eew. Apologies.

Cheollanamdo Day 3

2008-05-19T01:32:00.003+09:00

12 May 2008

Very short log today: I had a very uneventful bus ride home. Traffic was surprisingly light, and we arrived back in Seongnam around 2p. I was lucky enough to be on the side of the bus that has a seat by itself, so I was very comfortable. No leaning away from sleeping people this time around, and no pineapple juice on my shoes. It turns out I spent two nights in Gwangju and didn't see any more of the city than what I viewed from a bus window...

Cheollanamdo Day 2

2008-05-19T00:33:00.004+09:00

11 May 2008

The first bus left at 8:20. As I lay in bed this morning I decided to catch the second bus. Really, I'm totally not motivated on this trip. I'm lying down on a granite seat outside the Express Terminal, enjoying the sunshine. The next bus leaves around 11. I can't believe I'm actually keeping up with my journaling. Usually I'm too busy. If I was with someone I wouldn't even do this. The only reason why I journaled Seoraksan is because I started before I met 대용, and I hate leaving things incomplete. Right now I'm tempted to buy a book at the Yongpoong bookstore inside the terminal, but 1) I don't want to have to lug it around, and 2) I only want to buy books at Kyobo because then I can get rewards points.

I have nothing to say so I'm done for now.

* * *

Wait in the morning, rush in the afternoon. What fun.

I got to the Hwaeomsa bus stop around 12:30. I asked the driver what time the last bus was, and he told me it leaves at 1. I knew this wasn't true because I could have sworn that a bus left Gwangju around 16.25. He obviously didn't understand my phone dictionary Korean. I just decided to work on my own conclusions, as usual. If the bus leaves Gwangju at 16.25, it would arrive at Hwaeomsa around 18.05, giving me 5 1/2 hours of free time. Moon listed the hike to Nogodan (노고단) as 4 hours. Crunch time.

Why am I always experiencing crunch time?!

It took me about 15 minutes to reach Hwaeomsa. It was a beautiful complex, but I wasn't really in the mood to fully appreciate it; I had to continue quickly in order to reach my destination, this was my third mountain temple in three weeks, and mountain temples just seem weak in comparison to Duryunsa. The preparations for Buddha's birthday, though, were impressive. As usual, the complex was covered in paper lanterns, but this was the first time I was able to witness monks hanging prayers on the lanterns. The shrines were beautiful. In addition to multiple gold-plated Buddhas and Buddhavistas, there were pyramids of small lit candles. Flanking the Buddha in the center were two white pillared candles with painted dragons sculpted on. This was a magnificent sight.

Monks hanging up prayers

Pretty lanterns!

The gate to the monks' quarters was open, so I got a glimpse inside as I walked by. It's a long chain of rooms, each with a wooden floor and a pile of bedding. It kind of reminded me of palace servants' quarters in K-dramas, but at the same time it looked quite modern. Walking along were some monks-in-training, about 14 or 15, with shaved heads.

Snap some pix and time to go.

Hwaeomsa to Nogodan is a 7 km hike. The first 30 minutes or so is a bamboo forest. This took a good 2 km out of the hike, and thankfully it was an easy 2 km.

The next 5k -- not so easy. I figured that if I could manage 2 km/hour, I could make it to the top by 3:30, leaving 2.5 hours to get back to the bus stop in time for the last bus.

Of course I would have to leave by 4p at the lastest. Which means that I'd go as far as I could, then turn back. As exhausted as I was, I didn't really expect too much of myself, and my tired side and competitive side were waging a battle about whether I'd summit.

How is it possible that a steep, strenuous 3-hour climb could energize somebody? But it did. About halfway up I realized that I had to reach the top. My pace quickened. Short bursts of energy hit me just as I turned a bend and got dejected by the sight of more steps. Twice on the way up I was encouraged by people coming down. One guy gave me a thumbs up. A woman said, in Korean, "Good job." Her daughter quickly said, in Korean, "Mom, she's a foreigner. Say [in English] 'Excellent.'" I couldn't help but laugh at that. I was tempted to say "맞어" but I didn't want to embarrass the mother. Those two people reminded me that even small acts of kindness can uplift and energize somebody.

Then I ran out of water. Moon had mapped a spring about halfway to Nogodan, but either it dried up or I missed it. Regardless, my mouth was dry and I was sweating out a river without replenishing it. For me, water is like a safety blanket. My aching legs, the sights of more steps and my empty water bottle affected me physically and mentally. Gawd. How pathetic. I can imagine myself in a desert; I'd just curl up on the sand and wait for the vultures...

I was actually at the point where I was seriously considering filling my bottle in the crystal-clear creek. Even the thought of people wading in the water upstream wasn't a deterrent. The thing that did stop me, though, was the thought of microbacteria and how it could adversely affect my digestive tract on the bus ride home tomorrow.

I'm naturally a fast walker, which makes me a fast hiker. A fast hiker with a time limit, determined to summit, becomes a faster hiker. I was catching up to some people, and as I got closer, I began to wonder if they were white. I finally caught up to the last person. He nodded at me, and I waved to him; we were both too short of breath to actually speak. He joined his group on a large rock, and I sat down for a break as well. It was almost 3:30, I had 1.5 km left, and I was thinking about turning around.

We didn't talk much. Just hello's all around, and I didn't really look at them. I was thinking about where I could find some water. Then he asked me if I lived in Bundang. I looked at him, and he DID look familiar. He's Geoff, a guy in a rock-climbing group on Facebook. How weird, to travel for 4 hours and run across somebody that you actually know. We talked a bit. I told them that I was getting ready to turn around so I could catch my bus, but they managed to persuade me to continue. So I got up, we wished each other luck, and I left.

It was only about 10 more minutes til I reached the ridgeline. It was beautiful. I love the feeling of accomplishment that accompanies the completion of a particularly difficult hike. But I wasn't finished, not yet. My goal was the Nogodan mountain hut, and as far as I had already come, I wasn't about to stop. The road to the mountain hut is not steep, and it was a rather pleasant walk. When I reached it, I filled my water bottle, drank half, and filled it up again. There were trails and signs leading away from the mountain hut. I checked my time: 3.30. I could make it to the pass by four, I was sure.

View from the ridgeline

The way to the pass was steep, but more relaxing. When I reached the pass another lone hiker and I traded photo shoots, then I began to head down. I could see the peak in the distance, but I knew I couldn't reach it quickly. But I had exceeded my goal, so I could leave satisfied.

Nogodan Pass

As I was coming down I ran into Geoff and his friends again. One of them informed me of a bus that actually goes from the mountain hut to Hwaeomsa. It was tempting...but I had planned to hike up and hike down; to do any less would leave my task incomplete. So I began the knee-jarring, dangerous trek back down.

I arrived back at the Hwaeomsa bus stop just before six. I stopped by a CVS nearby and picked up some water (the mountain hut water was refreshing at first but had a funky taste) and a Korean snickers, then returned to the bus stop.

Around 18.05 a bus to Gurye arrived, and I hadn't yet seen the bus to Gwangju. I decided to try my luck on the Gurye bus and try to catch a ride to Gwangju from there. The bus driver was very kind and informative; he spoke with the passengers, and when I saw the terminal and tried to get off, he told me to wait, as the bus actually stops at the terminal. At the Gurye terminal I caught a bus to Gwangju, and settled in. I had accomplished everything I had set out to accomplish. My long day was complete.

Cheollanamdo Day 1

2008-05-17T23:30:00.006+09:00

10 May 2008

I'm getting a little travel-weary. To be honest, I kind of miss 서울. I'm not sure if it's because I miss our usual haunts, or if it's the very agreeable person whose company I suspect I'll miss. But I digress. I really miss Seoul. And I'm really tired. This whole morning discipline thing is getting to me. Five hours of sleep a night for over a month...I'm fatigued. Apparently I have the am discipline down (mostly -- I still run the last 15 metres to work!) but am having issues with the pm discipline; I've been reading some really interesting books lately and it's hard to force myself to go to bed.

I decided three times not to go anywhere. The important thing, though, is that I decided four times to go. A three-day weekend is just too much to pass up. So here I am...

In the little town of Hampyeong (함평). I woke up at 6 to catch the 7.30 to Jinju (잔주), decided it wasn't worth it, and promptly went back to sleep. The problem with waking up, though, is that one can never really go back to sleep. So I intermittently dozed on and off before I finally just decided to end my misery and get out of bed. The misery wasn't so much not sleeping; it was the indecision of whether I really wanted to go. I had packed my bags last night, and that ultimately was the deciding factor.

When I got to the bus stop I learned that the 10 o'clock was full and the next bus would leave at 1. Granted, I'm a foreigner, but who's even heard of Jinju?! I certainly hadn't until yesterday when my coworker 석남 told me to go there to reach Jirisan (지리산) Park. But apparently a whole busful had heard of it and had been diligent enough to buy a ticket before I could...

So I got one to Gwangju (광주). There are two Gwangju's: one in Gyeonggido just 15 minutes from my house, and the one in Cheollanamdo (천라남도), which takes a bit longer to reach. I'm talking Cheollanamdo. I figured I'd just hit the western side of the park rather than the eastern. Looks like actually reaching Jirisan summit will have to wait until a later trip.

Unlike most trips, I consulted neither Moon nor LP en route (I brought Moon with me, as it seemed to contain more details). Instead, I pseudo-dozed. It seems like everytime I was about to sleep my mind would snap and wake me up. I know that I did sleep once, because I woke up to a different song on my mp3 player.

The man sitting next to me obviously had no problem sleeping on the bus. I had the problem with him sleeping on the bus. He tended to lean. Being in the window seat, he usually rested against the window, but occasionally he would reposition himself and I would find myself leaning as well. At one point he was practically horizontal; consequently, so was I. He woke up, saw me leaning away from him with a rather bemused look, and immediately settled himself against the window and fell back asleep. It reminds me of the Mr. Bean episode where he falls asleep in church.

The trip was shorter than I had expected. Traffic was nasty around Seoul but surprisingly we were speeding along within an hour. 대용 texted me at a rest stop in 정주. I told him I think we were still north of 대전, but later when I looked at a map I realized that Jeongju is about 2/3 of the way through the trip. The whole ride lasted less than 4 hours.

At the Express Terminal I was indecisive once again (looking back, this seems to have been the theme of my weekend). When I'm with other people, I'm not domineering, but alone I know what I want to do and I do it. Unfortunately, the only thing I wanted to do was go back to Seoul and see... I've never really felt alone when traveling before, but it was an acute feeling this time; I think it's just the fact that my companionship last weekend is such a contrast to my solitude this weekend. Three too-short days managed to spoil me.

Originally I had planned to go to Gurye (구례) today, which is only a short bus ride to Jirisan Park. But that leaves the issue of my baggage. I could sleep there tonight, but I wanted to sleep in Gwangju Sunday night so I could make an early bus back to Seoul; 대용 and I had agreed to meet up if I could make it back early enough. If I didn't purchase a room for two days, though, I'd have no place to leave my extra bag; I think Gurye is a small town and I doubt its Express Terminal will have locker storage.

I finally decided to get a room in Gwangju for two days, and just go to Jirisan and return in the same day. That left me with another decision: get a room near the Express Terminal and take a bus home, or get one near the train station and take a train home? The train would be more convenient and comfortable, there was a variety of lodging around the train station, and traffic wouldn't be an issue, but would there be an available seat? More importantly, would I want to sleep near the train station and wake up earlier tomorrow in order to get the earliest ride to Jirisan?

대용 helped me make a decision. He suggested I hit up Hampyeong tonight to see a festival there. I know that I wouldn't want to go to the train station, get a room, return to the bus terminal, catch a bus to Hampyeong, return to the bus terminal, then go back to the train station, only to wake up early tomorrow morning and return to the bus terminal. Bus terminal lodging it is.

Apparently the only lodging within walking distance is of the love motel variety. I looked for the least seediest (the one without the curtained garage doors) and booked a room. I did have to call a few times before the owner came down; I'd imagine she usually doesn't have renters before 9 o'clock. I'll admit, though, the frosted windows and red & black curtains certainly lend a welcoming, homey feel...

Back to the bus terminal. I bought a ticket for Hampyeong and tried to get one for the 8:20 to Hwaeomsa (화엄사) tomorrow, but I can't purchase it in advance.

The scenery en route to Hampyeong was as picturesque as other areas in Cheollanamdo, but I was too tired to take it in. I mostly dozed.

There as a teenager sitting next to me, with a group of two friends. Around the beginning of the ride -- while we were still in Gwangju, actually -- he tried putting his pineapple slushie in the cupholder in front of him. I saw this just as he was turning back towards the aisle to talk to his friend and thought, "That's going to fall out." Maybe I jinxed it, because just then it did.

It was like slow motion. I don't know if I could have stopped it, but I didn't try. Maybe it was that my fatigue had put me into zombie mode and I didn't even think to react. Or maybe, just as likely HA!, I subconsciously wanted to punish him for being stupid enough to put his cup in an obviously too-small cupholder. Either way, it came crashing to the ground and erupted pineapple juice all over the floor.

He didn't know what to do. His friends laughed at him, then managed to scrounge up some tissue which couldn't even begin to clean up the mess. So I spent my ride in a half-zoned state surrounded by yummy pineapple juice scents.

Hampyeong is a very interesting place. It is like a huge city-wide carnival. Right now it's hosting the 2008 World Butterfly and Insect Expo. I'd like to see it when it's not in festival mode; I bet it's a sleepy hamlet contrasting the bright and loud atmosphere I witnessed.

It was amazing. Outside the Expo the city is a sea of white food tents. One particularly large dining area featured a performer to entertain the guests. Her crooning (I believe it's a she...sounded like a man, but wore a dress) could be heard across the grounds. The band was good, she wasn't, but it was still fun. The Expo itself was beautiful. The grounds were colourfully decorated, and the lamps even had giant plastic caterpillars which housed speakers for public announcements. I'm sure it would have been so much nicer if I could have gone inside.

Entertainer at a dining tent

That's right. I arrived around 7; it closes at 5. Just as I found this out at the ticket gate, 대용 called me to let me know. He must have been checking it online and found out. He apologized, but I told him it's OK; there are still plenty of other things to enjoy.

Butterfly Expo...from outside the gate

It seems the town had spent a fortune to prepare for the Expo. The roads were freshly paved and the sidewalks freshly laid. There was still dirt everywhere from the construction work. Flowers and small conifers had recently been planted beside the sidewalks; the grass hadn't begun to grow yet. On the top of a small hill near the Expo was a large rock that was brightly lit. I headed there. The hill, and the view it provided, were both lovely.

Carnival outside the Expo

At one point as I was walking down the road a car pulled over and a woman stuck her head out the window to ask me where the Expo is. Her face registered surprise when she saw me, and she almost stuck her head back in to drive away, but I gave her directions, also informing her that it's closed. Weird. That's the second time today that somebody has asked me for directions. I feel like Sammi. How can they mistake me for a Korean girl? Kory girls are never scrubbed out like I am. Scrubbing out for them takes a considerable amount of preparation to make themselves appear scrubbed out. I just scrub out because I'm lazy and want to be comfortable.

After about two hours I headed back to the Express Terminal to catch the last bus. That's something to get used to out here. All the buses shut down so early.

Gangwando Day 3

2008-05-15T00:35:00.007+09:00

5 May 2008

This morning I slept in...til 8. I washed up, finished my packing, and left for Sokcho. As I waited for the bus I got a beautiful glimpse of the mountains, their peaks shrouded in low-hanging clouds. In Sokcho I got off the bus at the Express Terminal to drop my bag off at a locker, then went to the beach. On the way I saw a NesCafe coffee shop and walked up the stairs to try it out. Closed. So it was downstairs to Family Mart for a warm can of coffee.

Shot of the mountains from Seorak-dong

Facing west from Sokcho Beach

Facing east overlooking Sokcho Beach

It had rained during the night and in the morning, but it was sunny by the time I arrived. I don't know if the sea is rough on this side, or if it's just because of the weather, but the breakers were pretty powerful; they actually crashed onto the beach. The beach sloped down gently until the point where the waves hit it; this was probably a 45degree angle.

The air was full of the sound of waves, punctured by the screams of kids as they played chicken with the waves. They'd walk towards the water, then run back, trying to outrun the waves. A man came down the beach, blowing his whistle and motioning the kids to go inland; the waves were getting higher. As soon as he left, the kids returned to their games. Another man came over and used all his authority as an 아저씨 to get the kids away from the water. Good thing. I guess these parents don't know what an undertow can do to a 40-lb kid.

I spent a bit of time journaling, then decided to hit the city part of Sokcho. I didn't want to do much sightseeing; I just wanted to hang out.

As I passed the NesCafe I looked up and saw that the door was open. Cools. A hazelnut cappuccino and some more journaling. I left around noon to try the side of the city across from the lake. This is less tourist-y and more business-related; here the hotels are replaced with City Hall, the police station, Coast Guard, and houses.

Fishermen mending their nets

Fish drying. Yum!

I took a ferry across the neck of the lake, which is about 15 metres at the most. A half hour walk brought me to Dongmyeong Harbour (동명항). By this time it was nearly 2. I was hungry. I found a restaurant that serves 회덥밥, the dish 데용 and I tried to get Sunday night. I ordered some. Then I asked for the bathroom. The 아저씨 led me to the door and pointed around the corner of the building.

I rounded the corner and an elevated port-a-potty greeted me. I braced myself, drew a deep breath, and opened the door.

And came face-to-face with a very shocked man.

I apologized and turned around. I heard him drew the lock. I had my back turned to him when he came out to spare us both additional embarrassment.

The port-a-potty was a squatter. And, all things considered, I actually prefer a squatter port-a-potty over a sit-down, as it allows for less germ exchanging. Furthermore, it's much easier to squat over a hole in the ground than it is to squat over a toilet seat, which is usually my only option in public stalls.

I returned to the restaurant and waited only a few minutes before the 아줌마 brought out my meal. It was so good. 회덥밥 is like 비빔밥 but with raw matchstick-sliced octopus, pear and lettuce. The lettuce reminded me of 비빔밥 back in the States when we didn't have any 반찬 in the house; mom just tore pieces of romaine and threw them in to give us some vegetable content. Hahahaha

Speaking of 반찬, this restaurant had good stuff. As usual, I ate half my rice but almost all my 반찬. I think henceforth I'm just going to ask for a half portion of rice. No need to contribute to an international food shortage by wasting rice.

Let me tell you about the restaurant's other patrons. Only because I'm very fond of them. When I walked into the restaurant I was greeted with the shouts and laughter of a noisy group of 아저씨s sitting at a table loaded with food and soju. Soju at 2 in the afternoon?! Their noise didn't dissipate throughout the meal, but instead of detracting from my culinary pleasure, it in fact enhanced it.

They were mostly of the fisherman/coast guard variety, and in the midst of the 이씨s and 개새끼s strewn throughout their conversation they were a close group of jovial people -- not drunk enough to be disgusting, but not sober enough to be demure. At one point an 아저씨 was expounding on a particularly long soliloquy, and the table erupted with relieved laughter when another 아저씨 finally exploded with "아 시끄러!" Yet 아저씨 #1 took no notice of #2 and continued to talk, only raising his voice to be heard over the sudden laughter and conversation that attempted to drown him out.

By the time I finished my meal I had 45 minutes til my bus' departure. I began booking it for the main road.

Sokcho is a small city with a lake in the center. I had two options. I could return to the bus terminal by retracing my route, walking to the ferry, crossing over, and walking back to the Terminal, as taxis and buses are very limited between the lake and the Express Terminal. This could take me about 45 minutes, I estimated. Or I could hop on a bus that would skirt the lake. I had no idea how long it would take, as I knew neither the city's size nor the frequency of stops.

I decided to take the gamble and hop on a bus. Traffic was horrid. Though it's a small town, the streets are mainly of two-lane variety; any additional lanes were eaten up by stopping buses and parked cars. Stoplights meant long lines. By the time I began to worry and contemplate alternate options, though, I realized we were on the west side of the lake. From my bus experiences Saturday, I presumed that the route would move along much more quickly once we hit the south side of the lake, as it is a multi-lane avenue with few bus stops.

I was right. All in all, the ride took 25 minutes tops. I had time to spare.

The ride back to Seoul was mostly uneventful, with one exception. Because of traffic, the bus was obliged to stop twice for the sake of overworked bladders. The first stop was fifteen minutes. The second one, though, was unscheduled, so there was nothing on the TV screens to indicate how long we had. The thought to ask the driver occurred to me, but I rashly brushed it aside, assuming it would be like the first time.

I was getting hungry and knew that another few hours on the road would produce loud growling from my stomach. I decided to get some food.

As I approached the bus it struck me as odd that there was nobody standing outside like usual. The driver was inside the bus. My pace quickened.

They were waiting. For me. As I boarded, the driver addressed the bus and all I caught was "위국인." I think he was trying to evoke understanding for the foreigner who obviously hadn't received the memo that it would be a shortened stop.

Awkward. To exacerbate the feeling, it seemed every eye was on me to get a glimpse of the offender as I speed-walked the eternal aisle to my seat at the rear of the bus.

Now imagine how ridiculous I felt when, shortly thereafter, I began to recognize my neighbourhood and realized we were only an hour from our destination: a distance that my stomach surely could have handled.

허걱

Gangwando Day 2

2008-05-14T19:55:00.010+09:00

4 May 2008

Breakfast was delicious. 대용 had everything ready by the time I came down (I had told him to text me so I could help, but he hadn't). He had different kinds of his mom's 반찬, and he had made soup and fried our fish. The soup was salty and he kept apologizing, but the flavour was good. He had given me a full bowl of rice, which I never finish at restaurants, but I felt obligated to eat it all. It wasn't too much of a chore, though; the delicious 반찬 was a wonderful accompaniment. Keeping in mind my travel issues, I made sure to eat a lot of the greens.

After breakfast we had some coffee and agreed to hit up Sokcho for dinner. He told me to text him when I'm on the bus home.

I got to Seoraksan around 10. I headed over to Sinheungsa (신흥사), the temple complex near the park pavilion. After snapping some pix, I headed back to the road which would lead me to Diamond Cave. Diamond Cave is a small, shallow cave which had been used by the monk Wonhyo as a meditation spot. I can see now how it could be very conducive to meditation; I can't imagine anybody in his right mind climbing the whole way there just to interrupt somebody's prayer time.

The first 25 minutes were easy: a slight incline running alongside a rocky creed. Around Biseondae (비선대) the trail began to get steeper. The last 30 minutes or so were fairly arduous, and just beneath Diamond Cave the stone steps ended and were replaced with metal stairs, complete with handrails.

When I reached it there was nothing to do except snap some pictures, drink some water, consult Moon for my next stop, and head back down. I had wanted to follow the 마등령 Pass, but I believe it was closed. Moon was a bit vague on this, I thought. I was looking for the trail near Diamond Cave as indicated in the book, but the actual sign was near the base of the mountain, and it was closed. Unless there's a hidden trail from the Cave, it was closed.

I backtracked to Sinheungsa, stopping by the creek to sit on a small boulder and have some 떡 and water, catching some sun and dipping my feet in the cold water.

The road north of Sinheungsa leads to Ulsanbawi (울산바위). Like the trail to Diamond Cave, the beginning was a wide path packed with people and teeming with small children, including those who like to jump in front of you and stop. Of course, adults do that too, but with adults, a 'why are you this stupid?' bump can make a point without serious injury, whereas with children I actually have to stop to avoid stepping on them. If I ever have kids and decide to go hiking for the Children's Day weekend, I think I'll leave them at home for some bonding time with Dad or Grandma or some other responsible adult.

About 1/2way to Heundeulbawi (흔들바위), or the Rocking Boulder, the trail began to get steeper. I was decently tired by the time I reached Heundeulbawi. A person, with a single, forceful shove, can make the boulder rock. A group of 20 people, with a single, forceful shove, can make the boulder rock. But no group can actually push hard enough to make the bouldter move permanently.

A quick water break gave me some energy and I continued. The beginning of the trail from Heundeulbawi to Ulsanbawi was beastly, and it only got worse. The last part was torturous. We'd climb a huge column of metal steps and turn a corner to find...more steps. Scramble up boulders to find...more steps! Moon cites over 800 steps in the last part alone, and I totally believe it.

At one point as I was walking up I looked up to see two white women coming down. One had a dog in her shoulder bag. Its ears were dyed blue. French people, I swear. I don't know if they made it up to the top, but it doesn't matter. At that point, still so far from the summit, if it had been me I would have been tempted to throw it off the mountain to rid myself of unnecessary weight. I jest...mostly. I just had a vision of Jack Black kicking Baxter off the bridge. Hahahaha

A nice trick is to go hand-over-hand on the rail, using your arm strength to save your legs a little work. I employed this frequently because I'm lazy, practical, and at the time I was dead-tired. For a while I was right behind a woman about the same size as I, and it was kind of funny; we actually worked in sync in stepping on the stones and moving our arms up the rail. No, it wasn't that funny. It was just interesting. No, it's wasn't even that interesting. It was just something that stuck out in my mind.

I'm not sure what was worse -- the steps (I probably stopped three times on one particularly brutal staircase) or the rocks. The path on the rocks was so narrow we frequently stopped because it could only fit one person and we had to wait for a column of people descending the mountain before we could continue. If walking on smooth, slanted rocks isn't hard enough, the person in front of you would suddenly stop while you're mid-step and you have to find new footing to avoid falling on him or her.

As we climbed, though, we developed a sort of camaraderie unusual in don't-talk-to-strangers Korea. We were all in it together, and nobody would turn back --in fact, in some spots, nobody could turn back if they wanted to because the path was too narrow.

The summit was amazing. I say this for most summits, but this one was more amazing than all the rest. It wasn't just the view, which was spectacular; it was the knowledge that you just took on a particularly difficult task and successfully completed it.

A Red Cross worker, young but weathered by the sun and wind, was kind enough to photograph people at the top. He must do it often, because he even positioned people to make for the best picture. He called it his 아라바잇, or part-time job, though he didn't charge. He must be bored, and I hope he's often bored, as it means that nobody met a catastrophe en route.

The way down was typical of mountain trails: much less taxing, but much more dangerous. Falling up can bark your shins, but falling down can break your neck, and maybe the necks of the people in front of you. So I employed the hand-over-hand method again.

I bought a bottle of water at Heundeulbawi and sat a minute to recoup. My legs were shaking. They were shaking on the way down from Diamond Cave, but I could make them stop within seconds. This time it took awhile, and they were prone to start up again immediately.

When I reached the creek approaching Sinheungsa, I stopped on a rock for some much-needed protein. I LOVE Korean snickers!

I had thought of heading to Allak-am (알락암), a small hermitage, and Gwon'geum-seong (권금성), a fortress, but it was nearing 5 and I didn't think I could take anymore climbing. It was time to go home.

When I reached the bus stop there was a long line. I wasn't too psyched about standing around, but I also didn't want to walk back to the entrance to hail a cab (at this point, yes, walking back to Seorak-dong was completely out of the question). Luckily, they're smart. Two bus numbers service Seoraksan, and instead of going the whole route, they designate each bus a stop on the route and pack it with people going there; then the bus returns for more people.

I texted 대용 to tell him I was getting on the bus, then grabbed the bus for Seorak-dong C, but apparently I had the wrong one. It stopped about a km past my 역원, so I had to backtrack a bit.

I grabbed my key at the front desk and hit my room for a desperately-needed shower. I was getting ready when I received a text from 대용: "Where are you?" I told him I was in my room and I was almost ready.

When I went down he greeted me with a can of Pocari Sweat; he had been waiting for me at the bus stop to give it to me. I felt slightly guilty. We headed up to the roof to hang out and he started telling me the meaning of Ulsanbawi. When the Geumgang Mountains were being created, Ulsanbawi wanted to be one of the required 12,000 peaks, so it traveled north from the southern city of Ulsan. It found that the requisite number of peaks had been met, so it ended its journey. Its sorrow, as well as the crying sound one hears as the wind blows past the rock, led to its name: Crying Rock Mountain. I knew the legend behind the rock (via Moon), but didn't know how the rock's name corresponded with the legend. I guess long ago somebody crazily decided to climb to the top for fun, heard the crying sound, and created a tale to explain it.

As he was speaking, the vegetables hit. If he noticed my sudden tenseness and 'oh crap!' (literally) look, he gave no indication. Eventually he finished the story and asked if I was hungry. I told him I had to pack a little (lame!) and I would return soon. I hurried upstairs but was dismayed to learn that I had waited too long; it had passed. My digestive tract is so temperamental!

We left around 7. When we walked out the door his mom called out to us to return early. I kind of wondered what she thought of me, whether she thought I was a loose American out to seduce her son, or a nice woman who's her son's friend. hahaha As we were driving the digestive tract exacted its revenge; the vegetables u-turned and hit again. I decided I could hold it. We were heading to Naksansa (낙산사) to see the temple grounds. It's located at the top of a small hill right above the beach.

대용 asked me what I wanted to eat, but I don't know any of the regional foods out here, and as far as regular Korean food is concerned, I'm good with anything, except donkatsu. He asked if I had tried 회덥밥, rice with raw seafood, smothered in sauce (in this case, red pepper sauce). Sounded good, so we began looking for restaurants.

We found one close to the beach that advertised the dish on the outside. When we went inside, though, it wasn't a menu item. 대용 asked if I wanted to go elsewhere, but I said it's ok to stay. I got some fish soup and he got 비빔밥.

As we wrapped up our meal, he told me that his grandma had always told him not to waste food. One swat would make him resume his meal when he stopped. I laughed. Sounds like my mom. He picked up his metal bowl and ate the last grains of rice. All I could do was grin; I still had 1/2 my bowl of rice and there was no way I was going to finish it.

He tried to pay, but I beat him to it. After all he had done, there was no way I was going to let him pay, especially after I left 1/2 my rice.

There's a batting cage across from the restaurant. He asked if I wanted to go. Now, I had been wanting to go for awhile; I had actually suggested it to Anna just on Friday and received a very noncommittal response. Yet keep in mind that I hadn't been to a batting cage since seventh grade. Dad had taken me, and though I can hit slow pitch, I had managed to connect with the ball twice, max, at a pathetic 45mph, both fouls.

We tried the slowest ones first. I don't know how fast they were, but they were still too fast for me. An improvement over last time, though; I think I hit five, and one was even fair! He was much better (he had played baseball in high school). One hilarious thing happened. The first time I cut, I flatulated (I'm serious, this is a tell-all blog). It just came out; I couldn't stop it. And it wasn't even an SBD, but a loud little popper. I don't know if he heard it, but I swung with clenched cheeks after that.

We decided to try again, a faster one. He went first and hit most of them, missing a few at the end.

I BEAT HIM. I got them all, and most were fair. I don't know how, but it happened! I surprised myself. He was jokingly disappointed with himself, but I kept insisting that 9 out of 10 times he'd be better. I think that's true. Maybe, though, I've experienced a miraculous improvement in hand-eye coordination. We decided on a rematch sometime in Seoul.

From there we headed up the small hill to Naksansa. He pointed out a hotel where seawater is pumped into the sauna. I'll have to try that sometime.

Naksansa closes at 8. It was 9:15. Oh well. We headed up to a small pavilion at the top of a nearby hill, then went to the base to Naksansa Beach.

It was windy and both of us had left our jackets in the car. The breeze was cold and flying sand cut into our skin, and I had a great time. Sokcho beaches are happening places at night. People ride four-wheelers up and down the beach, and the air is filled with the noise and smoke of fireworks, as well as the joyful yells of the kids setting them off.

We went to get some fireworks and I tried to pay again. The vendor had his hand on my 만원, but said, 'Korea tradition' and took 대용's 5K원. I don't know if it was 'Korea tradition,' or if he just didn't want to make change. But I was allowed to buy some nice hot cans of coffee.

Coffee and fireworks in hand, we headed back to the sand. The beach is lit, so we ended up close to the water where it's darker. We lit the 25-pack and were disappointed when, five seconds later, it was over. The sparklers were much more fun.

He told me that when he was little, he and his friends would somehow attach a rope to a can, somehow light the can on fire (I think they poked holes in the can and had a fire inside), then run down the beach, swinging the can around in circles. I don't really get the method, but I understood the result: he would go home, go to bed, and wake up with wet sheets and angry parents. Hahahaha

He said that his parents always called him 개구쟁이: rascal. He would ask his dad for money for ice cream and use to buy matches, which were the same price. Then he and his friends would play the burning can game. One time his dad caught him buying matches with the ice cream money. Ha!

As we were leaving the beach he asked me if I like dolls, pointing to the back of the car. I turned around. The rear window was lined with stuffed animals. Awkward. I didn't know what to say. He offered to get me one at a 보바 machine (I kept thinking 바보 machines like Jonathan calls them). I tried to convince him that I didn't need one, but he insisted. He didn't get any. He blamed the weakness of the claw, but I assured him that it was ok.

When we got back to Seorakdong we hit up a hof for chicken and beer. By this time my gut was screaming for relief; though I had been gassing at opportune moments throughout the evening, it wasn't enough. A beer only made it worse. Now I had a full bladder AND a full butt!

We hit the restrooms outside the hof. My purse was too small to fit toilet paper and none of the stalls had any. Wonderful. It's crunch time!

The walk back to the 역원 was physically less-taxing than Ulsanbawi, but equally as torturous. Once we arrived we said our very quick good-byes and I ran upstairs to my room.

I sincerely hope this is the only defecation-related blog I ever post. It's a little tasteless, but, to me, the situation itself is really funny.

Gangwando Day 1

2008-05-08T08:45:00.012+09:00

3 May, 2008

Fourth week in a row. That's right. Against all odds, I haven't slept in in a month. As usual, my alarm rang at 7, and, as usual, I got out of bed around 7.30.

Last night I was up until two, packing and checking bus schedules. The 'Central City' and 'Seoul' terminals are both in Gangnam (강남), but the website did not specify which subway stop they were at, whether it was Nambu (남부) or Express (고속) terminal. I decided to go with the Express terminal and try my luck, hoping it is the 'Seoul' terminal, which I needed. After getting ready and doing some last-minute packing, I left.

I arrived just before 10. Upon my arrival I saw that I was in fact at the Central City terminal. Instead of going to Nambu, though, I decided to see if somehow there is a bus to Sokcho (속초). I don't know if Central City and Seoul terminals are both in the Express terminal, but I found routes to Sokcho. I don't get it, but that's OK.

My guidebook listed Sokcho as a 3-hour transit. The website said 4. It took 5. The traffic was horrid; our rest stop in Yeoju (여주) took two hours to reach. I imagine it'll be like that Monday as well.

I arrived in Sokcho at 4 and immediately looked for a bus stop so I could board a bus for Seoraksan (설악산). I really had to pee, but the Bus Terminal restrooms were completely out of the question. The #7 and #7-1 buses go to Seoraksan, and en route pass through Seorak-dong (설악동), where I hoped to get a room. I wasn't sure how busy it would be with the long weekend, and I was a little concerned.

A bus stopped. I stood on the steps and asked the driver if he was going to Seorak-dong. He motioned me to get on, closed the door and started to drive. He asked me where I was going and when I repeated myself, he 아이씨'd and dropped me off at the next stop, driving off without another word.

I had a little more luck with the next driver. He at least told me to go to the other side of the street.

Third time's the charm. I asked, he smiled and nodded, and we left. On the bus I heard a little boy, maybe 10, speaking very loudly. When I turned to see, it wasn't a little boy, but an 아줌마. Hahaha

I got off in Seorak-dong, a place with a fair number of 민박s and 역원s. Even though they're cheap motels, the exteriors in this tourist town are much nicer than I've seen elsewhere; they're rustic and charming, built with wood or river rocks.

I walked into one nearby the bus stop and asked if they had an available room. She nodded in affirmation, and I asked if the bathroom's attached to the room (these, of course, are my two staple questions). She grinned and nodded again, then told me my Korean's good (this, of course, is the 역원 owner's staple response). A young man nearby asked me where I'm from (in English, actually pronouncing the 'f'!). I was rather surprised that somebody in a rural area -- to me, everywhere outside of Seoul is rural -- could speak English fairly well. I told him the US, then went up to my room to unpack.

It was five when I arrived at Seorak-dong and I wasn't ready to go to the park until around 5.30. My ritual in-transit itinerary planning had marked my first day with a trip to 금강굴 (Diamond Cave), but it's a two-hour hike one-way, and I was sure I wouldn't have enough time to return before it got dark. Even though I had my flashlight this time, I didn't want another twilight stroll. I opted to go with Sunday morning's path to the waterfalls, which is only an hour one-way.

I was disappointed. After the quiet, rustic peace of Duryunsan (두륜산), unadulterated by massive crowds, the touristy-ness of Seoraksan came as an unwelcome shock. There was a restaurant or tourist shop every 1/2km, it seemed. The Trail was also disappointing. It was more like a Sunday brunch walk in the park than a mountain trail.

But the scenery was beautiful. The trail led through a shallow gorge, and as it darkened it was empty enough that I didn't see too many people. Deeper pools were teal and blue, and shallow pools were crystal clear, revealing the gold and brown rocks at the bottom.

빌용 "Flying Dragon" Waterfall

I didn't feel like waiting for the bus to take me back, so I started to walk. As I passed through I saw a sign advertising 산채비빔밥. Mountain vegetables! Yum! I went in and ordered a bowl.

The server brought a tray loaded with my 비빔밥 & 반찬. There was no "맛있게 두새요" but it was served with a simple unfeigned sweetness. As she was putting the 반찬 on the table i was rearranging it to make room for my food and in so doing spilled some water into the 반찬. She picked it up and drained the water onto her tray. I thought it was a very kind act.

The 비빔밥 was good, but the 반찬 wasn't as good as what I had in Cheollanamdo (천라남도). The leeks were a little salty and the 김치 tasted like cheese (I don't know how; it wasn't sour or anything, but it just reminded me of fresh mozzarella), but I ate with the ferocity of a sailor suffering from scurvy.

Here's where I reveal all. If you're eating, stop reading. When I travel, I tend to find myself...stopped up. I usually don't poo when I'm with other people, but even when I travel alone I have issues. This time, though, I was determined to stay on schedule, so I ate as many vegetables as I could.

The walk from Seoraksan to Seorak-dong takes a good forty minutes, even without the stop for food en route. When I arrived back in Seorak-dong C, my neighbourhood, I stopped by a CVS to pick up some snacks for Sunday's breakfast and hike. As I returned I saw the young man with whom I had spoken at the 역원. He asked me if I wanted some coffee and I accepted; I never refuse coffee.

He brought out a Coke; he had run out of coffee. We sat and started talking. His name is 대용, like Big Dragon. His parents own the 역원. They're from 서울; he lives in Seoul and works in Seongnam (in 야탑동, two subway stops from me), but comes out some weekends to help his parents out.

He invited me to go fishing with him. And I did something which no sane, intelligent woman (and a CJ major, no less) would ever do: I accepted. I figured it's a chance I would probably never get again. That, and I had my camping knife in my bag, and I figured I could take him if it came to blows (not so, I found out later; he's a black belt in 태권도).

We went to Haemaji (해마지), where a number of boats are docked. He showed me how to fish. You drop the line in, and drag along slowly, trying to keep it as close to the dock as possible.

I immediately caught one -- about as long as my middle finger. It went back in. He caught two decent-sized ones before I caught another. This was a step down; it was about ring-finger-sized. Dang. But I was still really excited (I haven't caught a fish since I was 8: a rainbow trout in the Rockies that turned into dinner) and got a picture. How sad; I'm beaming like a medalist with a fish I could have swallowed whole if I wanted to. But it'll go down in history as the 20-#er I caught bare-handed.

That one went back in. I actually took it off the hook and threw it in. We were about to leave when I had my crowning moment. It was about 5 inches -- no mean size for this kind of fish. Boo-ya!

We packed up to try our luck at Oeongji Harbor (의옹지항). No dice, but I was lucky enough to be approached by a drunk guy to show me how it's done. It's times like these when I play my 외국인 status to its full extent and butcheredly say, "한국말 없어." It usually scares them away, but sometimes it'll backfire and they'll try to practice their 인그리씨 on me. Fortunately, this was an instance where the 위국인 factor played in my favour.

We headed over to Dongmyeong (동명) to check out one of the sights there. It was closed, but we did make it out to 영금정, or Sunrise Pavilion. We were heading back to the car when we passed a snack cart. 대용 asked if I had tried 오징어순대 (squid sausage?). I hadn't.

It was delicious. Most of the 순대 at Seoul snack carts aren't spiced up properly, my coworkers had told me. This was. And instead of putting the filling in pork intestine, this Sokcho specialty puts it inside the mantle of a squid [I did just look up the anatomy of a squid to find out what the 'mantle' is called; they're actually more complex than I had expected. All I knew was head and tentacles].

대용 & 오징어순대

We headed over to the Dongmyeong Fish Market, but it was closed. Fat cats scurried from mat to mat, feeding on leftovers, though. We returned to the car to head back to Seorakdong.

When we reached the less-crowded road leading straight to Seorak-dong, 대용 asked me if I wanted to drive. Of course! He pulled over and we switched seats. I drove pretty slow, despite the two cars tailing me, since I know my driver's license isn't applicable here (I cunningly failed to mention that part to him). He complimented me on my driving (I speed up on curves), but I think I scared him when I screeched in to park. I couldn't help it; it's my trademark move.

While we were out, his mother, in true Korean-mom style, called at least twice to tell him to come early. Hahahahahaha I guess all Korean moms feel it necessary, even though they know their kids will never listen.

Before we parted, he reminded me to come to breakfast so we could feast on the night's measly catch.

It was close to 1am, but I really needed to shower. Between the hike's sweat and the port water shaken on me by struggling fish, I felt filthy. I could hear the TV from the neighbouring room, so I wasn't too concerned about waking anybody up. Shower, TV, and sleep.

Travels to the land of canned coffee: day 2

2008-04-28T13:14:00.004+09:00

27 April 2008

As expected, I decided to ignore my alarm, trapped by warm blankets on the warm floor, and the knowledge that cold air awaited me once I stepped into the bathroom.

I caught the 9 o'clock bus to 진도읍 (which is when I started writing this). We arrived just before 10. I inquired about the next bus to 뽕할매동 and learned that it wasn't hourly: the next one would depart at 11. I had an hour to kill.

I saw the funniest man at the bus terminal. He had brown socks and gray shoes, and too-short pants that revealed the sock-shoe faux-pas. The only reason I noted this, though, is because he had Susie-Q brown curls (gawd I hope it was a wig). Attractively placed in these curls were two pink bows. Cute.

By this time I was ready for a decent cup of coffee and ventured out to find a coffee shop (this canned stuff feeds the addiction but is otherwise unsatisfactory). The sight of a Paris Baguette raised my hopes, but I soon forgot my coffee when I came across the outskirts of a small open-air market.

It was fun. It's a mixture of cheap clothes, plants, food carts, and fresh meat and produce. I swear, I saw basil plants, but I doubt I can find a basil plant in rural 진도 when I've never seen it in 서울 shops. I bought two small scarves for 천원 each. (I'm not sure if I'll be able to transcribe this when I get home; I'm writing this in a bus on a bumpy road.)

The meat section of the market was chock-full of seafood: small squids lying in ink-filled tubs, frozen whole fish of all sizes and colours, skates, eels squirming crazily in their tubs and fresh clams measured out by the pailful. Freshly plucked whole chickens (and a few roosters) were a fair distance from the pens that housed live chickens and little black pigs (I don't know if I've ever seen a black pig before).

A nice thing about the market is that the only dogs sold are little 진도 puppies bred as pets, not for food. The horrors of the 모란 meat market still haunt me. I've chosen not to adopt the Korean nickname for dogs: 똥개, or poop dog. Instead, I mentally call them 개고기, and occasionally I worry that I'll slip and my mental nickname will become a verbal nickname. That could be a bit awkward.

진도읍 market outskirts; man with the straw triangle hat in the center

As I walked through the market something struck me that only adds to 진도's attractions: nobody stares! I made eye contact with others, but, with a few exceptions, they nonchalantly looked away. People here are too busy living their own lives to be concerned with what people invade their homogeneous bubble. Such a far cry from the "OMG, a 외국인!" reaction that I've grown accustomed to--grown accustomed to, but still dislike and mock. And in the unlikeliest of places: a rural island in the SW that is only seasonally flooded with tourists.

On the bus I noted another beautiful thing about these people. The bus was crowded with 할머니s, all loaded down with produce they had bought at the market. At the front of the bus sits a woman who logs in the number of passengers to ensure that the bus company is accordingly paid by the driver. She also takes the 할머니s' groceries, helps them mount the steep three steps, returns their groceries, and helps them again when they disembark. I thought that was a really wonderful thing.

허동리 is beautiful, despite its initial drabness. Small dories are moored at the end of a short concrete pier, waiting to ferry passengers to nearby islands.

I sat for awhile along the water's edge, writing and staring out at the water. It's cloudy, occasionally sprinkling (cursed forecast!) but still it's a wonderful sight, I love the smell of the ocean, and the nearby islands block the cold breeze (once again regretting not bringing my shell).

My mom called and while we were talking I noticed people descending a small hill. I had been so busy looking out at the water that it had completely escaped my notice. I began to climb up a wide trail lined with azaleas. 진도 azaleas are pretty -- a different hue from those in 서울. It was a 10-minute walk at most, including the time it took to snap some photos. The top was rewarding: azaleas and small pine trees framed the ocean and islands below.

One thing: I hit a few dead spots, and I'm sure my mom and I called each other and connected at least four times, but it was a long conversation. Basically I gave her a shortened version of this blog. That, and she gave me some mom-lectures about my finances and taxes, and voiced her worries about my safety, traveling solo; a condensed version was repeated shortly thereafter by my father.

I'm now updated. I'm on the bus back to 목포, where I'll catch a train back to 서울.

When I left home I was a bit concerned about going solo, though I did it from time to time back in the States. My uncertainty about finding an ATM in a rural area in case of an emergency, my incomplete knowledge of the language, and my nearly non-existent knowledge of the area (apart from my LP) filled me with doubts which usually don't bother me. However, I found that I need not have worried. No emergencies arose, and my Korean didn't fail me (nor did my phone dictionary). Most importantly, though, I encountered some wonderful, generous and helpful people during my short stay. I think that sometimes we have to leave our familiar zones and be dependent on our own strength and other people's knowledge, because this gives us an opportunity to rediscover both ourselves and the beautiful side of humanity.

I had a great time here. I'm excited to get back to the bright lights and fast pace of home, but I really hope to return to this area. This was a wonderful experience, and I still have .33 km of a mountain to conquer.

My hand is cramping from so much writing. For now, this trip blog is complete, unless something exciting happens on the way home. I've been writing this in the blank spaces of a sudoku book, having forgotten a journal. So now it's time for sudoku.

* * *

목포
It was nearly 3:45 by the time I arrived at 목포역 from 진도읍. Taking the bus from the bus terminal to the train station reminded me of how stressful life can be up north. here the streets are lined with cars, but traffic flows smoothly. The lack of traffic is telling: where my bus driver could be heard loudly cussing at stupid drivers, SW bus drivers yell loudly into their cell phones with their thick accents, sing along with the radio, or talk to you through the rearview mirror. Yet I still love my bus drivers, swerving through oncoming traffic, or squeezing the orange to cross an intersection, if not just outright running red lights. You've gotta appreciate their dedication.

I was hoping out here in the boons booking an early train would be simple, but I didn't get one until 19:00...for 60K원. Is that a first class ticket? The price seems a bit...steep.

I had three hours to kill, so I began by looking for a place to eat. I had breakfast, a kid-sized granola bar that did nothing for me, and countless cans of coffee. Needless to say, I was slightly hungry.

I looked around for about a 1/2 hour, finding no suitable restaurants (I'm right here and I want seafood!). I finally decided to end my fruitless search and look around town. Land's End was only a few km away, so I headed in that direction. I got into a small port, beside which was a small fish market. It was a nice stroll.

With two hours left I headed back towards the station, near which I had spotted a small restaurant advertising 낙지 비빔밥. It was good, but the 반찬 was better. I swear, 반찬 in the south is uber-yummy. They know what they're all about down here. Must be all this fresh produce and fish juice.

I'm sitting in the station right now, waiting for my train to start boarding. I'm gonna be exhausted when I get home.

* * *

SHE BOOKED ME A FIRST CLASS TICKET! Dang it! I'd better get a freakin glass of wine, or I'll be uber irked.

And instead of a window I have the big plastic wall between the windows. Wonderful...

Being a positive person -- or actually a realist who recognizes the good as well as the bad -- no screaming children in this section! w00T!

* * *

I tried to sleep, since it's quiet, and I know I'll get home late. I even put on my sunglasses and hit my classical & opera playlist, but to no avail. I rarely sleep in moving vehicles. I guess I'm a picky sleeper. I sometimes envy people who can sleep anywhere, until they drool on themselves for all the world to see, or lean their heads on the greasy spot on the subway.

(In between Andrea Bocelli I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a fart, and I do hope it was the music-warped sound of a grunt.)

But to add, I can't sleep because I did some sudokus. Have you noticed that when you do puzzles, then let your mind rest, or try to sleep, all you can think about are ways to solve the puzzles? Like after playing Meteos I'll place coloured blocks into their imaginary cells, then try to match them up. Same thing with sudoku. It's kinda like going to bed after being on the water too long -- you can still feel the boat's rocking. So, no sleeping. Back to sudoku.

* * *

Too many people are apparently farting in their sleep. The whole car smells of catbutt, and I'm not referring to the car freshener. I hope there are no accidental sparks, or we're all gonna go up in flames.

Travels to the land of canned coffee: day 1

2008-04-28T00:29:00.008+09:00

26 April, 2008

My trip to the SW was fairly interesting. Of course I got up much later than my alarm. The fatigue which has plagued me this week was still affecting me -- that, and my insatiable need to be lazy. Needless to say, I was not about to catch the 9:15 train. The next train was at 11 sharp, so I left my flat around 9:30. Traveling by myself, I was sure that I would be able to purchase a ticket.

As luck would have it, I was not paying attention and caught the wrong bus. The story is quite amusing (now) and pays tribute to my peerless conceit in my directional 'street sense' (which is usually quite reliable, I might add). I saw the 1005-1 bus and chose to ignore it, knowing that it goes through the busy 강남 district. The 9000 bus approached, and when I saw that no seats remained (my 3-hour walking journey to locate grandma's hospital was still plaguing me), I ran to a 9400 bus behind it. When I boarded I saw that it was nearly empty. Ah yes, I thought myself pretty smart, indeed.

Until I saw the numbers. Of course, I just hopped on a 9400 bus, expecting it to be a 9401, which passes by quite frequently.

It wasn't. Instead, it bypasses the 경부 expressway, arcs around 천계산, and lands in 서초, hitting 양재, 강남 & 논현 stations before traversing west to 여의도역. As we trekked past lakes and hills, I considered my options: I could go all the way to 여의도 & catch the train back to 용산, or I could get off at 양재 and take the train to 용산. The 여의도 route would have to contend with traffic, whereas the 양재~용산 subway ride could take close to an hour. I opted for the 양재 route, and it was about this time that doubts of catching the 11 o'clock began to surface.

I got off at 양재, and it was while waiting for the crosswalk light that another idea hit me: take the 1005-1 downtown! Why I didn't consider this before is beyond me.

I boarded the 1005-1, waited with more than usual patience for the 강남 traffic, and got off at 종각 at 10:30. The subway was annoyingly slow. I could count the track boards from 종각 to 사청. Finally got to 용산 at quarter to 11 and was pleasantly surprised to get a seat on the 11 o'clock.

The train ride was uneventful. I dedicated a short amount of time to my Lonely Planet (henceforth LP) actually somewhat planning my trip, and had decided on visiting 두륜산 for a short hikey-hike. I would take the bus from 목포 to 해남, then from 해남 to 두륜산 Provincial Park. 두륜산 includes 대둔사, a Zen temple complex, and one of the hikes mentioned is to 두륜봉, where one can catch a glimpse of the ocean. Lodging would be acquired, sleep slept, and then I would head out to 진도 on Sunday.

Sidenote: why is it that the people who sleep on trains invariably get the window seat? (I'm taking the bus from 해남 to 진도읍 and a firefighter just boarded. He's cute. Especially in his orange jumpsuit. I like orange. I'm destined for a firefighter. ...Or a convict. Our bus driver is watching the TV instead of the road and we're sitting at a green light.)

Where was I? Oh, well, the sleeping window seat lady got off about midway to 목포, and as the train got emptier the further south we traveled, I consequently moved over. The scenery was boring: farms and plastic-sheeted green houses. I can see why the average age in the countryside keeps increasing. (The lady on TV has obviously had a boob job.) As we approached 목포, though, the hills became more frequent, enveloped in blue clouds (stupid weather forecast predicted sunshine), and the sight of lonely farms surrounded by the hills was quite pretty.

목포, from my 40 minutes spent there, is quite interesting: a unique concoction of high rises staccato'd with 기와-topped houses.

It was a lot colder than I had expected. I began to wish I had brought my shell with me. There was a Columbia store up the road, but I decided to tough it out. I grabbed a bus to the Bus Terminal to head out to 해남.

The ride to 해남 was exasperating. A fat 아저씨 sat next to me, smelling of stale smoke and sweat, and his big butt crossed the boundary line onto my seat. His leg would have rubbed mine (ugggh!), but I wisely crossed my leg man-style, ankle over knee, so that his leg touched the sole of my shoe instead of my leg. At that point, I was annoyed enough not to be too concerned with what I may have stepped in.

In 해남 I checked the bus schedules and decided it would be prudent to get a 여관 in 해남 instead of 대흥사, the small touristy village that sits at the base of 두륜산. This way I wouldn't have to take a bus to 해남 Sunday morning; I could just go directly to 진도 without taking too much of my time. (Bye bye cute firefighter, hello bearded straw-triangle hat farmer... We just passed a small bay and just seeing the ocean reconfirmed what I had thought yesterday: I'm gonna have to come here again.)

The 여관 owners were very friendly and complimented my Korean, which just indicated to me that they were very friendly. All I did was ask if there was an available room, and made sure there was an attached bathroom. The room was surprisingly clean, and I just used some hand sanitizer on the toilet seat before I was comfortable (which bears testimony to how much my germophobia has lessened since moving here).

I returned to the bus terminal (a whole two-minute walk) and caught a bus to 대흥사. It was just before six when I arrived. A taxi stand was right next to the bus stop. I waited about 20 minutes for the shuttle to 대둔사 before deciding it was not worth my time. Sunset was quickly approaching and I wanted to reach 두륜봉--a 1.5 hour trek--by sunset so I could take pictures. I approached the taxi driver and requested prices: 8K원 to 해남 and 3K원 to 대둔사.

The ride to 대둔사 was about 20 minutes (40 on foot, LP said). It was delightful. I rolled down the window and enjoyed the scenery and fresh air. My driver, like 서울 drivers, is no stranger to his horn; he constantly honked at the hikers who crowded the roads. As we drove by, I heard some hikers talking and recognized 'taxi.' I'm not sure, but my paranoid side thinks they were mocking me for being young and taking a taxi down the untaxing road. But I was on a schedule. I asked the driver what time sunset was; he told me seven. I had a bit less than an hour to reach the summit.

The road coursed alongside a rocky creek and the trees ranged in shades of green. It reminded me of Great Falls, VA, but the colourful lanterns hung in preparation for Buddha's birthday only added a sweet festivity to the rustic beauty.

대둔사 does justice to its surroundings. this temple complex is more in tune with nature than its sisters in 서울, or even 불국사 in 경주. Instead of open dirt courtyards, it boasts small ponds, shrubbery, trees and blooming flowers.

대둔사

I approached a monk to get directions to 두륜봉. I know that monks aren't backward, but somehow I expected a monk out here, removed from mid-peninsular urbanity, to be less-technologically inclined and modern. I was surprised. When he learned I'm American he addressed me in broken, but understandable, English. In a mixture of Korean and English he told me that it's a 3 o'clock (he meant three-hour) hike to the peak and back. He pulled up his sleeve to check a watch that wasn't there, then pulled a cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. He told me it would be dark soon, and I shouldn't go. I told him (in English) that I'd go fast, and remembering from past experience that body language is key to bilingual communication (Jen is always keen to say that it's 80% of communication), I bent my arms and moved them up and down, as if I were running.

He obviously understood my body language more than my words because he responded with, "Run no good."

I smiled, shook my head, and responded (this time in Korean) "I'll hurry." He nodded, still skeptical, I smiled and 인사'd, and we parted. I took a few minutes to snap some more pix of the complex, then hurriedly set off, constantly checking the orange setting sun at my back.

Beginning of the trail...how simple and deceiving!

(Sidenote - I'm now on the bus from 진도읍 to 뽕할매동 and just witnessed a farmer tending his rice crop -- the first time I've seen that!)

The hike was arduous, to say the least. After a few 100 metres I reached a sign that informed me that I had a 2.3 km hike to my destination. In hindsight, I think the sign was lying; it felt more like a 5-k hike!

Keeping the monk's words in mind, as I climbed I spotted and grabbed a stout 6-ft. long piece of bamboo in case I encountered any large, uncuddleable animals. Even at the time I mocked myself; I had no idea what I would have done with it if I came across a hungry pack of wolves (I have no idea what dangerous animals -- if any -- frequent the area; LP didn't really address that). Nevertheless, I deceived myself into feeling safer and welcomed the extra burden.

I made multiple 10-second stops on the way. I can lie to myself -- and to my readers -- by saying these were solely for the purpose of rearranging my gear (putting my camera in my bag, stripping off sweaty layers as my body temp. increased, etc.) but they all had a dual purpose: the other being to give my screaming muscles and lungs a breather.

As visibility decreased I began to worry. I had thought to pack my flashlight as I lay in bed Friday night but of course with my unwillingness to get out of bed, coupled with my forgetfulness the next morning, that didn't happen. By this time there was a mountain between me and the setting sun and the trees contributed to the darkness, so I deduced that it wasn't really this dark (simultaneously ignoring the fact that it would still be darker than the rest of the trail later) and obstinately pressed on.

As I climbed, the path became narrower and rockier; about midway the foot-sized, ankle-turning stones had been replaced with knee-high mini-boulders. It was difficult going up in the dusk; it would be nearly impossible descending in the dark without any injuries. I kept an eye on the sky and was about to turn around when a bend in the trail revealed tall grass blowing in a strong breeze.

Excitement hit me. I quickly scrambled to the top and was nearly hysterical, the moment was so beautiful. The wind was cold and strong so I hastily replaced my layers of clothing. I ran towards the edge and looked down at the islands below. It was considerably lighter near the summit and the view was fantastic. On my left was a peak; on my right was a large outcropping boulder: 두륜봉.

두륜봉

My only regret is that I left my journey incomplete: 두륜봉 was still .33 km away and I knew I had to leave in order to reach the base by dark.

I scrambled down the small boulders and jogged the rest of the way down, walking when it seemed too dangerous to jog. I'm sure I took at least two years off my kneecaps on that one. However, it seemed more treacherous to walk than jog (I almost turned my ankle twice walking, none while jogging). So I resumed my jog.

It was nearly dark by the time I reached 대둔사. I looked around for a taxi and checked the time. No taxis, and it was nearly 7:30. The last bus to 해남 was at 8. I'll admit: I'm cheap (I prefer to consider myself practical, but cheap suffices) and I'd rather spend 천원 on a bus than 8K원 on a taxi, so I began jogging down the street to 대흥산.

As I ran a group of 아저씨s approached me and one asked me for directions. In the fading light his friend recognized my foreign features and with an incredulous cry of "위국인!" began to mock his buddy for getting directions from a foreigner. hahhahaha

LP noted that it's a 40 minute walk, but I'm not sure about that: it took me about 25 minutes to jog it. And the road was much more beautiful in a taxi in the afternoon than running at night with a backpack. Ha!

The bus stop I got off at is about 15 meters uphill from another, closer, bus stop. Uncertain about whether the bus stopped there, I opted for the safe route and speed-walked the remaining distance to the uphill bus stop.

Good thing I hurried because the last bus arrived at 7:55, a whole FIVE minutes before 8.

...And the bus also stops at the downhill bus stop. dang.

I was famished by the time I reached 해남. I quickly stopped by my room to wash up and exchange my backpack for my purse, then set off in search of a restaurant.

Turns out that was the most difficult task of the day. The town virtually shuts down by 8, with the exception of a few 소주집s and hofs. I finally ended up at a restaurant near my 여관 (I walk for 25 minutes to land at a place 5 minutes away!) and enjoyed some 해장국. This was the only menu item that isn't made for parties of two or more. And this wasn't the nasty stuff laden with near-hotdog-level strips of fat: this was the stuff with real meat! Served up with some tasty 반찬, and I had a very nice meal.

When I got back to my room I enjoyed a nice hot shower. The hot water did take some coaxing, but it came through for me in the end. With the warm floor and English channel cable TV (which I still haven't bought), I was ready for bed.

West Side story, 2 Deaths and a Mountain

2008-02-25T00:52:00.015+09:00

Of course the title makes this sound so much more dramatic than it actually is...

16 Feb. 2008: West Side Story

Today, I'll admit, was rough.

I was supposed to wake up at 6:30a to travel to 인천. Mark signed a contract with a different school, and he's frantically trying to move into his new apartment and simultaneously pack his bags for a trip to the States. Sensing the (quite obvious) symptoms of stress, I offered to help. We agreed that I would arrive between 8:30 and 9, as his new coteacher would arrive around 9 to take him to his new place.

I did wake up at 6:30a. I promptly turned off my alarm, fell back asleep, and woke up again at 7:00a. Let's suffice it to say I was not about to make it to 인천 on time. I had decided the night before to take the bus to 안양, and from there head over to 인천 by subway. I didn't know if it would be faster than bussing to 서울역 and then taking the subway, but I've always been curious about the 333 안양 bus and decided to satiate my curiousity. The drive was pleasant, except I was playing DS and wasn't paying attention to the bus stops, and consequently got off on the wrong stop. It was only a 10 minute walk to 안양역, though, so it wasn't too bad.

On the subway Mark called and told me that when I arrive at 구로역, where I would be changing trains, to take the 동인천 Express Line instead of Line 1 headed to 인천. I did this, and was quite pleased with how much faster it was than the regular line! It skips probably half the stops, and cut my travel time by quite a bit.

By the time I arrived Mark had most of his belongings packed, so I just started cleaning up his kitchen. Let me emphasize again how much I love my school. His place is so tiny; I think it could fit into mine two or three times (at least his new place is bigger, but more on that in a bit). He paid me back by buying me pizza (yummm! Dominoes in Korea also gives garlic butter, which I believe is an amenity limited to Papa John's back in the States). After lunch we tidied up a bit more, then began the travel back to his new place.

Hopefully within the next few weeks he will find some closer public transit routes, because once we got off the bus (OMG, the bus ride from Hell! The driver insisted on randomly speeding up right before the stops, then slamming on the brakes) we walked forever and then some to reach his new place. This part of 인천 is a bit older; it does not have the conglomerate superstore chains (he's lucky that he's within walking distance of a 김밥집 & GS25) but has some slightly dodgy mini-marts. Instead of high-rise apartments, there are many older houses.

His apartment is a welcome change as well. As foreign urbanites, we've gotten quite accustomed to our studio flats, and his new pad is so different! It's more like a bedroom in a traditional house. The moment one walks in one faces the kitchen area, with a small refrigerator, sink and desperately-needs-to-be-cleaned stove. There is a sliding door leading to the living space, which is about the size of a decent bedroom. There is a window in the bedroom, and three doors: the first leads to a deck/laundry room; the second is a closet, and the third leads to the bathroom.

We spent some time cleaning up, but both had to go; he needed to visit his uncle in 서울, and I had promised to see 할머니 in 부평 which, fortunately, is only a few stops away.

I took the train to 부평시장역 and searched for the actual marketplace. I wasn't quite sure where I was going, as I had only been there once. I vaguely remembered the bus numbers to 할머니's complex, but wasn't sure about those either. Regardless, I wanted to get some gifts before I searched for a bus and headed over. I first hit up a small hole-in-the-wall shop and asked the elderly clerk for a large size of Bita drinks. He got them, but apparently hadn't upgraded his shop to accept credit cards. Being cashless and not seeing an ATM nearby, I apologized and walked out.

The moment I walked into a small grocery store I asked the clerk if they accepted plastic. She said yes, and I proceeded to shop. Grabbed some Bita drinks, 딸기 & traditional Korean cookies, paid, and walked out. I decided I didn't want to lug my Bita drinks around searching for the bus stop, so I hailed a cab, gave him the address, and settled back.

Grandma was so happy to see me. Her face actually beamed. I think she gets kind of lonely and bored sometimes, living alone, and she was really excited and felt really special that her random foreign granddaughter came out to see her.

When I talked to my mother about it she asked me how we communicated, and I'll put down the response I gave her: basically Grandma speaks to me in Korean, I listen very hard, I ask her to speak slowly, she speaks at the same speed, and I either pick up enough key words to make a hopefully valid response, or I give her a perplexed look and say, "할머니, 몰라요."

We spent a lot of time looking at photo albums, and it was really funny to see pictures of my brother and me when we were little. As I looked, I saw a lot of pictures of 화규삼촌 & his family. I also saw his and 숙모's wedding picture; they were both hot! Gives me hope for what the mysterious 성우 looks like, lol. Recent and old pictures were haphazardly dispersed throughout the albums. In one of the albums there were five photos taken at a swimming pool, and I saw a very handsome young guy with a very nice physique. In four of the pictures he was sporting aviators, but in the last picture he didn't have his sunglasses on, and I was slightly shocked and disturbed to recognize the man as my uncle. In between the pictures of unknown people though, it was quite homey to recognize my aunts and uncles, and my grandparents; it reminded me that we're all family.

When she was younger 할머니 used to travel quite a bit. She's been to various places abroad (including the States, New Zealand, and, if I remember correctly, Thailand?), as well as numerous sites in Korea. Looking at those pictures, seeing the history in them, made me want to travel all around Korea. I also saw a photo of them at 남한산성, and I immediately decided to visit as soon as I could.

Grandma cooked me dinner. She fried some fish, which was delicious, and her 반찬 was really good, but I'm a bit iffy on the 고기국. It's made up of beef, but not the kind of beef that I'm used to. Random organy items...something that was black. I'm not too picky about my food, as long as it tastes good, but this didn't taste good. I tried to eat as much as I could so she wouldn't feel bad, but it wasn't enjoyable. I just shoveled lots of fish and 김지 down my throat to remove the soup flavour from my tongue.

When I left she kept insisting that I stay the night, but, in addition to preferring my own bed, I had left my contact supplies at home. I had fun trying to explain it to her, but I think she eventually understood that I had to go home. She packed some food for me, and off I went.

19 Feb. 2008: Death #1

Death #1 occured on 19 Feb, 1978. Thirty years later, I attended the memorial service.

The last memorial service I had been to was a few years ago over Labour Day weekend, for my grandfather. But that was just one where we visited the gravesite, then went to 할머니's house for dinner. I had never attended a traditional Korean memorial service, and was interested as to what it would be like. I had seen them on TV, and judging by 명수's account, the actual service is similar to what is on TV: you hike up the mountain, pour the soju on the grave, and peel pears.

삼촌 picked me up in 서현 at 6:30p to take me to 부평. I was a bit curious as to the hike, as twilight was rapidly approaching; would we have trouble walking up the mountainside in the dark? Then I supposed that we might actually drive to the gravesite instead of hiking; this seemed more likely, since 할머니's legs aren't in the best condition.

When I arrived I realized how wrong I was. They are a Christian family, so they mix Korean tradition with Christian practices. Therefore Grandpa's memorial service consisted of the whole family crowded into 할머니's bedroom, singing hymns (I tried to follow as well as I could) and reading Bible passages. Then we all sat down for a family dinner.

Afterwards we had a rather interesting ride through 서울. 삼촌's 착은숙모 lives somewhere between 목동 & 여의도 (we had gotten lost, so I'm just spitting out the general area based on some subway stops and the National Legislature building) and he was taking her home. I enjoyed seeing an area of 서울 I hadn't really explored, and it's much more fun by car than by foot. I also saw some not-so-discreet prostitutes walking around, which is not a sight I'm really accustomed to.

After dropping her off we headed back to 성남 via the Olympic Expressway. I hadn't taken that road since the taxi drove me from 인천 airport on my arrival to Korea, and all of my first memories came back to me: seeing the 한강 & 서울 Tower for the first time, being dazzled by the city lights...

삼촌 didn't take the 경부 Expressway that I'm used to taking by the bus; he took another road that led past Olympic Park. I was pretty lost; I thought we were on the west side of the Expressway, but apparently we were on the east side the whole time. I still don't really know how we got home, which slightly irks me because I pride myself on my sense of direction and am obsessively concerned with knowing my location at all times; in new places, I actually make it a game of trying to figure out where I am and in what direction my destination lies.

22 Feb. 2008: Death #2

This morning as I crossed the street to the bus stop I saw a police officer, dressed in a silver jacket with a fluorscent yellow traffic vest.

Another officer stood at the crosswalk.

A third officer paced around bus stop.

A fourth officer traipsed around 서현 station.

Two more officers were parked near the busy intersection that leads to 이매, 야탑 & 모란.

My initial deduction was that some important dignitary or celebrity was going to be in the area.

Not so, I found out at lunch. The teachers were talking to each other in Korean over a meal of 부대찌개, and 명수 suddenly asked me if I had heard of it.

"Heard of what?" I asked.

She then proceeded to inform me that the charred body of a woman was discovered floating in the 탄천 (a small tributary running through 분당)...right behind my house. Then she asked me if I had seen anything.

"No," I replied, "but I'm kinda tempted to go for a run along the 탄천 tonight."

I remarked on how surprised I was that something so sensational could happen in our prosperous and rather boring neighborhood. She then proceeded to tell me of other murders and dramas that had occurred over the years.

Five years ago, a flight attendant had wrapped up a night partying with friends. Rather drunk, she hailed a cab at 서현역. The driver murdered her. Death: affirmed.

A few years ago, during a domestic dispute, a husband turned on the gas, then lit his lighter, causing a huge explosion that was heard for kilometres around. "Did they die?" I asked. "Yes," 명수 replied, but 이창희 said, "No, she lived." Death: his-affirmed; hers-debatable.

During another domestic dispute (presumably involving a different couple), a husband pushed his wife over their deck rail. Death: affirmed.

Let's suffice it to say that I've returned to my old habit of sleeping with my knife under the pillow, which I haven't done since I left the States.

22 Feb. 2008: A Mountain

(it's almost 3a, I'm tired, and I'm going to bed. Will finish this entry later)

OK. I'm at work right now, but I've finished all my tasks, so I'll take some time to type up this entry:

Today Bryan and I headed to 남한산성 for a wee hike. Friday the weather was beautiful, but apparently (unbeknownst to me) a cold front had moved in Friday night. When I went for a trail run Tuesday I had on a base layer under my shell, and I was burning up, so I decided that I would be safe leaving my base at home and just wearing my shell. Bad move. I was freezing. I'm just glad that I decided to take my earmuffs & gloves, or I would have been in really bad shape.

Last summer when I climbed 천계산 I was fairly in shape, and it was still pretty rough. But 남한산성 is an easier hike than 천계산 so I hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Yeah, it was bad. Apparently I'm in worse shape than I had previously supposed.

When we arrived at the park we sought out the map. We didn't really know where we wanted to go; I had seen some of 할머니's pictures from the mountain and really wanted to see what appeared to be a palace. Neither of us knowing an extensive amount of Korean, we just found the prettiest looking site on the map and decided to head for it. According to the map it was a fair ways away, but within about five minutes we had reached our destination: a temple. The steps leading up to the temple were lined with miniature stone monks upon whom previous visitors had laid coins, either for prayers or good luck, I suppose. At the top of the first flight there was a frozen-over fountain surrounded by stone sculptures. We pondered the purpose of the fountain, then continued up the stairs.The third flight led to a hallway guarded by warrior statues. Bryan and I had the same idea when we saw them: their abs looked like corn-on-the-cob.

corn-on-the-cob monk

As we approached the fourth flight I saw a dog's head poking over the ledge. When we got to the top two white dogs were chained inside a small pen, begging for attention. Bryan pet them for some time, but my germophobia (and their yellow-tinted fur) prevented me from showing them love. We enjoyed the view, snapped some pictures, grabbed some hot drinks from the vending machine (making sure to throw away our trash), and headed back down. As we approached the third landing we saw a bell directly in front of us, which we had not noticed on our way up. It was a large bell in a covered, balconied pavilion and four smaller bells were around it. We went to check it out, seeing if there was any way to ring the bells. Below the small bells were money jars, so we assumed that for a small fee we could make music with metal and mallots. We dropped in our 백원 and struck hard. Their clear ringing was loud and I'm sure carried down to the valley and surrounding hills.

We decided to check out the view from the hill west of us, which appeared higher than our own. This would require crossing over a narrow, shallow ravine created by the small stream that courses down the hill during the warmer months. Wearing our 외국인 features like diplomatic immunity badges, we proceeded to create our own trail towards the ravine, but were pleasantly surprised to see that there was already a trail there, most likely to aide in the water run-off from the temple's fountain. The actual ravine was dry for the most part, but there was one part that was completely iced over. I didn't want to risk muddying myself, so I quickly but cautiously crossed on the ice. As I neared the opposite edge I took my eyes off the ground to search in front of me for the trail's continuation. That was a mistake: I misstepped and slipped. I don't know exactly how I landed, but I know that a lot of the impact went to my hands, as my palms hurt for a bit afterward. Bryan took no time informing me that I landed flat on my butt. After verifying that I was ok we both found it quite amusing.

The hike up the second hill was beastly. This hill was considerably steeper than the first, but between frequently slipping on the mud and panting for breath, the scenery was beautiful. We also saw a bridge that crossed the ravine where I had just had my little accident. It led directly from the fourth landing of the temple. Talk about ironic.

We finally summitted and were greeted with a paved road. We decided to veer left, since we could see some fortress walls in the distance. The stroll was pleasant; the sun was shining and we felt considerably warmer than we had at the base or at the temple. I even gathered the courage to remove my earmuffs for a whole five minutes.

I had thought that when we reached the gate we would be greeted with some strong fortified castle, but I was disappointed. The gate only offered more choices: continue forward, veer left, or veer right? We saw the castle walls coursing around the top of the hill north of us, so we chose left. Walking along the fortress wall would keep us on the ridgeline, which (thankfully!) would prevent us from making another leg-straining trail hike.

A gate lays at the point where the mountains meet each other. At this gate we can either continue along the wall, or climb down the stairs and head east towards 광주 or west towards 성남. Bryan and I 가위, 바위, 보'd to decide between continuing straight or heading east. He won and we continued straight up the second mountain, which was fine with me because I wanted to see the watchtower at the top.

[Curious, I just now Wikipedia'd the origins of 가위, 바위, 보. It struck me that the game is, indeed, international, so I wanted to know where it originated. Apparently it is known by names of all languages and its origins lie in China. Even cooler, though, is the fact that there is a similar game called Bear, Ninja, Cowboy, which I believe will for me replace Paper, Rock, Scissors in the near future; it involves full-body stance.]

The watchtower was closed, so we headed back down. We decided to abandon the road and take some trails down. It was very pleasant. We found ourselves in a beautiful grove of trees; the sun filtering in made it even more picturesque.

Eventually we ended up near a frozen waterfall. Perfect photo op. The cool thing about this one was that it had a hole in it about chest level to me, just begging us to try to climb inside. We tried (which was hard, because we were standing on a sheet of ice). Having already fallen once, I wasn't too adventurous, but we did end up breaking off a few very large, thick icicles trying to get inside. As it were, we were unsuccessful.

Somehow we lost the trail and ended up basically slipping down the rest of the mountain (serious soil erosion occurring) until we found ourselves nearby some farms. One was fenced around with a bright green fence, but it was incomplete. We took advantage of this oversight. I don't know how many private properties we trespassed on (but were careful not to ruin any crops!) before we eventually made it into town, shoes (and in my case pants) filled with dirt and bracken.

A pleasant dinner of 비빔밥 set us up for the trip home. We could have taken the subway, which would have been much faster, but I really wanted to try the bus, since it wound through an area I had never explored before. The streets were narrow and lined with cars, allowing only one car to pass through. Being larger and capable of crushing other vehicles, the bus often forced itself the right of way (being a frequent bus rider, I have come to love Korean bus drivers!). The area between 남한산성 & 모란 is an older neighbourhood, and I found it very interesting.

A nice day. Tiring, but I had a lot of fun.

Back at home

2008-02-10T23:24:00.001+09:00

Yesterday I was reminded how much I missed being home. I missed the bright lights and banners, the food, even the jostling in a crowd of shoppers in 명동! It was wonderful spending the evening in Seoul with Sammi, being able to look up and enjoy Namsan Tower's beautiful glowing lights in the near distance. Malaysia was exotic and scenic, but for now this is my city, and it's great to be back!

Today

So glad Sammi & I met in 종로 instead of 명동 today. If we had been in 명동, I wouldn't have been able to witness firsthand what many Koreans saw on the evening news or online.

Between 시청 and 서울역 traffic slowed down and congested, and I could see a mass of emergency vehicles and news vans congealed around 남대문. The whole area shone with red and blue lights blinking in the midst of bright white floodlights. The area was enveloped in smoke. Firemen rushed up and down the stairs and I could see water running off the roof. As we sat nearby the smell of smoke -- smelled like a campfire -- permeated the bus.

From what I could gather online with my limited Korean, authorities suspect arson.

Wow. Barring the time Sammi almost got sick on the bus, that's by far the most interesting bus ride I've had so far.

Life's an Adventure

2008-02-07T21:14:00.003+09:00

Thursday, 31 January 2008

An interesting day so far, and it’s only 7:02 am local time.
I travel 2800 miles to sit in a Coffee Bean and drink a Viennese, but it’s nice to have a bit of a taste of home.

To be sure, I’m exhausted. Hopefully this caffeine will eliminate the mild headache that’s forming in my frontal lobe.

I left 분당 at 3:30, only 1½ hours after I originally planned. But I knew I had plenty of time, so I gave myself a little extra time getting ready and checking my packing. Despite my precautions, I’ve already realized that I left my headband at home, which just means I’ll have wet hair when I wash my face (side note: a lady at the table across from me is signing. It’s amazing that in our world of diverse cultures and languages, we have a truly international language. Unfortunately few people actually can communicate in this language).

As the airport limo passed 부천, I looked at the mass of drab high-rise apartments and wondered where my grandmother might live (when I walked in 10 minutes ago, it was pitch black, but already the sky is a beautiful deep cornflower blue).

I shopped around the airport for a bit and checked time a bit later than I should have. It was 6:00, only 10 minutes before my flight started boarding. I ran to the security check-in. Korean check-in is so much faster and easier than American, thank God! No shoe removal! By the time I speed-walked to my gate, they had only begun boarding (and it was a long terminal!).

I didn’t sleep at all during the flight. But I did watch Rush Hour 3 (unfortunately the movie on my return flight is Nanny Diaries, ugh). I played Meteos much more than I should have, and I really enjoyed the in-flight magazines! Especially the duty-free catalogue! So excited about when I return, because I see some things that I’d like to buy.

When we landed I had to pick up my baggage. Unfortunately I will be flying to Langkawi with a different airline, so I couldn’t leave my luggage in the system. That also means that instead of waiting in the terminal, I had to sit in the amusement-free arrivals section.

While I was checking out a map to see where the Departures were, a man approached me asking if I needed help. He wore a badge and looked official. I told him I needed AirAsia departures, and he informed me that it’s in a different terminal (LCC, the old airport), about 20 minutes away, then instructed me to follow him. I’ll admit it’s a bit disconcerting following a stranger in a strange country. He took me outside, down a line of taxis, and deposited me off with another man. This man took me back inside to the information booth and gave me prices for the Budget Taxi. 48 MYR (or RM - Malaysian ringgits) for the ride, but a 50% increase after midnight. 72 MYR total, a little over $20. A deal in the US, pretty pricey back home, and damn expensive in Malaysia. I told that I’d wait for the 6 am shuttle, thank you very much. He offered 50 MYR, but I held my ground.

I headed over to a café and grabbed an iced chocolate (powdered Nestle with ice, I swear!) and took a seat. At a nearby table sat two women talking to another official-looking badge-toting man wearing a Polo oxford and a tie (Polo as in Polo Ralph Lauren, which can tip one off that he’s really well off). I recognized them from my flight; I had seen them in baggage claim and they stuck in my mind because one of them spoke with a distinctly American accent – the other, a fused British-American accent. The badge was giving them the same prices for taxis that I had just heard. Bored, I very willingly and unembarressedly eavesdropped on their conversation, and even laughed when the British-American accent exclaimed at the inflated prices and offered the badge 20 MYR to driver her there himself.

Eventually the badge (his name is Ssara) drew me into the conversation and I told him I was flying AirAsia as well, and British-American accent said, “Let’s stick together” and American accent invited me to join them. British-American accent introduced herself as CiCi (short for Cecelia) and American accent is Bbing. I settled down with my new traveling companion (Bbing’s flying Malaysia Air, so she doesn’t have to go to the AirAsia terminal) to wile away the next few hours. (Ssara explained that though he works for the airport as security, he receives 50% commission for selling taxi service. Duh! I had already figured on the commission, but just didn’t know what his cut is.)

CiCi and Bbing are Chinese-Malaysians from the SE US, visiting their families for Lunar New Year. I learned about different foods to try, as well as gift ideas for my peeps back in Korea. CiCi’s definitely the more talkative of the two, and the hours really flew by.

At 5 CiCi and I said our good-bye’s to Bbing and headed to the Airport Shuttle terminal to see if the shuttle was running. It wasn’t, so we decided to get a taxi. The price would still be high, but at least we were splitting it. As we approached the information desk, a man approached us and offered to take us to LCC for 40 MYR. CiCi & I exchanged looks. He wasn’t badged as the others were, and as we followed him, CiCi looked at me and crossed her fingers. I told her it’s okay; I could take him and it didn’t look as if he was packing anything.

As we approached LCC he informed us that since it’s past midnight, the fee would be 60 MYR. I protested, telling him that we had already agreed on a price. CiCi just gave him her 50, I think just because she didn’t want to argue for her change.

* * *

So I’ve boarded the plane now. This is the first time I’ve walked across the tarmac to board a plane. It’s nice getting some fresh air! The sky is bright and it’s wonderful to see palm trees atop the nearby hill. We don’t have pre-assigned seats, so it’s first come, first served.

Malaysia is an interesting fusion of ethnicities and cultures, the three main people groups being Malay, Chinese and Indian. Skin colours range from extremely dark to a fair fair fair that would evoke jealousy from Michael Jackson. Many women walk around in head scarves, ankle-length dresses and heels, while others are bedecked in shorts, the less orthodox mix head-scarves with tee shirts and jeans, and still others wear traditional Malay clothing. Very few people in Korea bleach their hair, but half the hair here is that “Asian orange” on both men and women. Signs greet passengers in English, Arabic, Malay and Chinese.

The flight attendant is demonstrating how to put on the seat belt. Do they do this on all flights and I’ve just never noticed because I never pay attention? She looks like a darker version of Sarah Michelle Gellar.

I just got my first glimpse of the Petronas Towers from the portside of an airplane…

* * *

Oh my God this place is AWESOME! Stepping off the airplane onto a tropical island was like a scene from a movie. I wish I hadn’t broken my sunglasses, because I had a desperate urge to put on a pair of aviators to complete the effect.

Hanna had arranged for the hotel to pick me up at the airport. The driver, Murat, directed me to a Mercedes van. I never even knew Mercedes made vans. Murat went over to the left side of the car, so I went to the right, but he had gone to open the door for me. Despite the taxi ride, I had already forgotten that the driver’s side is on the right. People also drive in the left lane (though the taxi held that law very loosely). In the Benz, though, Murat was very careful to abide by the laws.

Although he knows very little English, Murat was very friendly and he tried very hard to communicate with me, mainly asking what Korea was like and whether I liked Langkawi (which I LOVE!).

This is my first real holiday of my adult life. All my other trips had been visiting family (which we all know aren’t real vacations) or sightseeing by a strict itinerary; this trip is purely for relaxation and enjoyment, and I’m PSYCHED about it.

Our resort, Tanjung Sanctuary, is beautiful. The moment I stepped out of the van I could smell the sea. Check-in isn’t until 2pm, but the hotel staff cleaned the room quickly and let me in around 11. While I was waiting, Murat served me a drink on the pavilion, then I strolled down to the beach, stripped off my shoes and waded in the warm water.

Now, after a shower, lying in my swimsuit, I’m debating whether I should look around, go to the beach, or take a much-needed nap. I’m not tired at all but I have a massive headache.

There is a sign on the door to the deck. It reads as follows:
“MONKEY BUSINESS
“Beware of mischievous monkeys.”
It then proceeds to give explanations on how to treat the monkeys and the hotel’s non-liability for any damage the monkeys may cause to guest’s personal possessions. I didn’t know what to make of it (except to find it a bit amusing) until a few minutes ago when I saw one scampering across the beach. There is one screeching (quite loudly) somewhere outside my bungalow right now.

I’m going to try to nap for a bit, or at least close my eyes and rest, before going out. When I took out my contacts and put on my glasses it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. I guess 24 hours is too long to leave in contacts.

Friday, 1 February 2008

I woke up this afternoon around 1pm. Last night it took me a long time to fall asleep. I was lying on the couch with the TV on and the volume low, which usually puts me to sleep. There’s that moment, in that weird limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness where one’s mind begins to wander and one sees strange scrambled images and hears loud noises not outside, but between, one’s ears; in the past I’ve seen my mother, strangers I’ve never met, even a red, pointy-tailed Satan; I’ve heard the rush of airplanes, intense bargaining in a foreign tongue, and angry yelling. These visions and noises are only remembered if one actually becomes fully conscious right after experiencing them. For me, waking up is usually the result of a sudden noise or my mind becoming aware that I’m falling asleep. I did this three times yesterday: once in the taxi and twice on the couch. The taxi ride was one when my mind realized that I was falling asleep and told me to wake up (a cab in a foreign country with nobody knowing my whereabouts is not the safest place to doze off); the couch were ones when the TV volume suddenly increased. I finally turned it off and went to bed.

Yesterday after journaling I tried to nap a bit and was very unsuccessful. I finally changed and strolled down to the beach. It’s beautiful. Unfortunately I had my glasses on so when I went into the water I couldn’t see anything. But the water was delightful…once I actually gathered my courage and dove in. Strangely, there were some stinging spots on my skin all over my body. They didn’t leave any marks or bumps and they feel fine now, but they were quite irritatingly painful. I heard some people talking (there were only three other people on the beach) about miniature jellyfish in the water; perhaps that’s what I felt.

Afterward, I rinsed off and washed my face and called for a taxi to take me to Kuah Town where a shopping district is. It was wicked hot out, but I found some amazing deals (deals for me, but I’m sure they’re jacked up tourist trap prices). I got a swimsuit ($10!) and sunglasses ($7!) and fixed my other pair of sunglasses, but didn’t find insect repellent or sun block lotion, so let’s cross our fingers I don’t get malaria and peeling skin.

Last night as I was sitting on the deck we were getting a wonderful breeze, as a storm was blowing in – I could see the lightning to the southeast. This afternoon when I woke up it was still raining a little. The rain’s cleared up but the sky is overcast and the air is still and stifling.

* * *

This afternoon (or evening, I suppose; it’s approaching 7pm) the sky is still overcast but the air seems to be moving a bit more. I SERIOUSLY miss my hair straightener. This natural curl isn’t doing me a bit of good right now. It’s so wonderful out on the deck. The moment I open the door the delicious scent of sea water greets me, and I love sitting here listening to the waves and watching them roll onto the rocks and the beach. My body seems to have acclimated to the weather, doubtless as a result of undergoing monsoon season in Korea. Korea – it’s going to be hard to return to the dry cold after this, but I already miss my friends and wish they were here to experience this with me.

Hanna called a few hours ago as she was preparing to board the ferry to tell me that she’ll arrive around 7. I’m so excited. It’ll be great to just sit around and chill out for a few days.

Sunday, 3 February 2008

Yesterday was very full and exciting. Friday we ended up going to bed around 3 am (I honestly thought it was closer to midnight). Woke up around 7:30 so we could eat breakfast, pick up Cain, and reach Pantai Cenang by 10 for our island hopping tour.

We arrived around quarter til 10 and waited…and waited…and waited for 45 minutes for the agent to arrive. Apparently agents run many of the services – they book flights, reserve hotels and rental cars, and set up tours. After the agent finally arrived, we created a car caravan and he led us about 15 minutes to the small bay where the tour boats took off from.

The boats are small canvas-ceilinged dories which can carry approximately 12 passengers. At the bay we waited perhaps another 30 minutes because we had not purchased tickets in advance (our agent deserted the group the moment everybody parked alongside the bay, without a word of explanation).

Once we finally boarded a boat, though, the tour was wonderful. Our first stop on an island gave us about an hour to enjoy the beach. The water was so clear and the sand was fine and soft.

On that island, however, I learned about just how treacherous coral could be. I was swimming out a bit and as I was straightening up to check where I was, the top of my right foot scraped something very hard and sharp. Now the interesting thing about swimming around in salt water is the speed at which you realize that your skin has been cut – it’s instantaneous. I put my left foot down to balance myself on the coral as I lifted my right foot to examine the damage, but a wave knocked me off balance and I instinctively lowered my right foot, this time slicing the bottom on the coral.

It was a bleeder. When I stepped out of the water the blood started rushing onto my foot, so I quickly stepped back in. The worst part about it is that it hurts to put on flip-flops, and if I go barefoot I’m scared of stepping on something sharp.

The monkeys on the island were hilarious little food bandits. After we disembarked from the boat we watched a monkey steal somebody’s can of Pringles, open it, and start stuffing chips into its mouth. As we were leaving the beach to return to the boat a monkey scrambled to a shaded area where some visitors had stored their drinks and, ignoring the water bottles, snatched a can of Coke and scampered away.

As we waited for the boat to return Cain and I amused ourselves by feeding the fish with some bread he had bought earlier. They flew towards a chunk of bread every time we tossed it in. We threw in the bread as fast as we could to examine their reaction times, and the fish were fast. They were beautiful, too – their bodies were electric yellow, offsetting their bright blue fins.

The boat next took us to an inlet on another island for an eagle feeding. The captain dumped bits of raw chicken into the water (it was disgusting – there was a film of oil on the water's surface), then moved the boat away from the floating meat. When we were a sufficient distance away the eagles swooped down, snatched the meat out of the water, and flew away to the surrounding hills. A wonderful show, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it did anything to devolve the eagle’s natural predatory instincts.

Our last stop was an island with a freshwater lake in its interior. It was a short but decently intense hike to the lake, complete with hiding one’s plastic bags from scavenging monkeys. Here I was able to witness the bathing suits for Muslim women that Hanna had told me about.

They’re basically wetsuits – they cover everything but the hands, feet and face. I’ll admit, I felt a bit odd being in the minority of bikini-wearers in a mass of wetsuits; the fact that my bottoms pulled down when I dove off the pier (hahaha – thank god the water wasn’t clear!!) only magnified my feeling of being the immodest Westerner.

One note – Go Me! for bringing hand sanitizer. Malaysian bathrooms – oh my god, I’ll think even Korean bathrooms are sanitary after these. They do have sit-down toilets, but the majority of the stalls have squatter toilets. Most people do not use toilet paper; instead, after excreting solids or fluids, they use a hose inside the stall to rinse off. Therefore the floor is often wet with water, in which are swimming the millions of germs and bacteria of god-knows-what. So after stepping inside the stall and touching the door handle (I had forgotten my tissues AND there was no way I was sitting on the seat, so luckily I didn’t have to use the bathroom) I had the dire urge to wash my hands. No soap. No water. So…hand sanitizer it was.

When the tour was over we went to a halal restaurant, but Hanna and I thought it was a Chinese restaurant, so when she asked for sweet and sour pork I didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary. But it was funny to watch Cain’s face – he looked surprised, then apologetic to the server, then very amused.

The next four hours were spent on the beach. Pantai Cenang is a beautiful beach, and the best part is that it’s not crowded. We see beaches in the Caribbean and the West Coast that are packed with people, and they’re such a contrast to these wonderful beaches where one can relocate one’s beach towel as many times as necessary.

After dinner we went to a small beach bar whose music was putting Hanna to sleep, so we were forced to relocate to a more jivin place. En route we stopped by a fruit stand which sold durian. Cain said it didn’t taste as good since it was Thai durian (CiCi had mentioned that as well) but Hanna and I were both curious to try it since we had never had any. It was moderately pungent, but not as bad as I had expected. With her first bite Hanna had had enough; I think she was a bit disgusted by it. But the hilarious part was when she accidentally dropped it on the ground, and, refusing to touch its stinky meatiness, attempted (failingly, for the most part) to scoop it up with the durian skin. To me, the flavour wasn’t bad – it was just different. I don’t know how or why, but I thought it tasted a bit like 갈비. It was tasty, just not for a fruit.

The bar we ended up at WAS jivin. We stayed and danced by the bar, and within minutes of getting our first drinks Hanna noticed a man checking Cain out. He had a skin-tight white see-through shirt, tight white pants and a green belt, and whenever he lifted his arms you could see his belly. As the night progressed he became more and more bold and in between voo-doo dancing on the floor he would approach and dance next to Cain. I tried to help Cain by dancing with him, but it didn’t help. The coup de maître, though, was when the three of us were dancing, and out of the blue he jumped into our circle and yelled out, “Balaugghh!” The first time it was a shock, but the second time we just died.

This morning Hanna and I were supposed to wake up and eat around 9:20, but after getting home at 3:30 it didn’t happen. Around noon we picked up Cain and headed to the cable cars.

That was a fun experience. The cars go to the summit of one of Langkawi’s highest hills. The ascent is fairly normal for the first two-third’s but the last bit is so steep. On the way up we shared the car with three Muslim women, one of whom was holding the cutest baby. Malay babies are so cute with their big, round black eyes. Muslim Malays dress quite differently from Muslim Arabs. Muslim Malays wear head scarves and dresses of the most beautiful colours and designs.

The scenery is breath-taking. One can see miles and miles of jungle, beach and ocean. The ridge line of the northwestern part of Langkawi is interesting. The hills are like green, tree-covered mounds. At the end of the jungle is a strip of beach, then the clear teal of the shallows, followed by the deeper blue as one’s eyes travel further from the island. The coral reefs are purple, and the shadows of clouds float across the water. Eventually, the end of the ocean is lost as it merges into the hazy blue horizon.

The descent was much more exciting than the ascent. The steepness of the first third of the ride and the jolt that accompanies the car as it leaves the platform made it seem like we were going to plummet down to the valley hundreds of meters below.

When we reached the bottom we headed to the souvenir shop. I picked up three postcards at .90RM each, and quickly did the math to come to 2.70RM. At the cash register there was a sign which read, "Please check your receipt and count your change." I was a bit perplexed at this, until I went to check out. I had 5.70RM in my hand. The cashier used a calculator to figure the total, and after counting the money I gave her, used a calculator to figure the change. Yesterday when Cain and I had gone to a gas station to pick up ice cream and water the man had taken forever adding up our total. This just emphasized the importance of even basic education, and confirmed what Cain, Hanna and I had talked about earlier: the Indian- and Chinese-Malay populations were better off financially than the Malay population because they were more focused on financial stability. They recognized the importance of education and strived for it, and once they received jobs they worked very hard. The Malay population, though, (or at least the rural Malay population) adopted an attitude of "can," which roughly translates into "No worries." That, I suppose, contributes to the attitude which allows an agent to arrive 45 minutes after the time agreed with his customers, or the educational deemphasis which forces a cashier to use a calculator to subtract 2.70 from 5.70RM.

After a lunch of Arabic food we drove to Kuah Town to drop Cain off at the ferry landing, as he’s returning to Alor Star tonight. The last few hours have been spent just lying on the beach, journaling and swimming. The sun is setting and the tide is coming in right now, and in between writing I’ve been taking pictures of the sunset (I love this new camera – it has so many picture modes!). Soon we’ll head off to a Korean BBQ, as Hanna and I are both seriously craving Korean food. Pathetic, I know – I’m in this wonderful area where I can eat Arabic, Indian, Thai, Chinese and Malaysian; it’s been less than a week since my last Korean meal; but woman just needs that mixture of garlic and red pepper!

My right foot is swollen from the coral scratches. I’m going to call it Clubby.

Monday, 4 February 2008

Clubby is still as swollen as last night, if not more. I had a lot of fun putting on my shoes. I thought flip-flops were bad. I just hope it’s not infected or anything; that would be gross.

Last night we did not eat Korean food. After circling around for a bit trying to find the restaurant (it had no sign and was hidden a ways from the main highway), we found it to be a bit dodgy: although the restaurant appeared to be brightly lit, it was in a secluded location, there were not street lights around, and there appeared to be few cars nearby; throw some stray dogs loping around into the mixture, and we were ready to leave. So we decided to head over to Pantai Cenang and enjoyed some Chinese food instead.

I just spent the past 2½ hours dealing with check-out. That was a blast. Hanna and I were under the impression that billing was taken care of, so she left before I, and I proceeded to check out long after she had boarded the ferry for Alor Star.

No, billing was not taken care of. They did not have her credit card number on file as we had assumed. So I met with the resort manager and he kept reiterating how much money the bill was, as I continued to reiterate that I understood perfectly and that I wouldn’t screw him. I emailed Hanna to let her know of the situation, then sat down to wait, praying she’d check her email as soon as she arrived at the office.

The manager, though, suggested that I head over to the airport to see if I could retrieve some cash. I was sure that it wouldn’t work, as I only had my foreign bank card and had left my Visa at home. But I accompanied Murat to the airport to check anyhow. (Note to self: next time carry my Visa.)

It didn’t. So I returned to the resort, praying that we could clear up the matter before my 9:50 flight.

We didn’t. I called Shinhan in Korea to see if they could transfer money to the resort.

They couldn’t. I waited longer. Hanna called the resort and settled the situation quickly, and I left to board the next flight to Kuala Lumpur (KL). I had hoped I could just pay a small fee and book the next flight, which could save me some spending cash for souvenirs and such.

I couldn’t. I bought the return ticket (sorry, people, for the crappy gifts HAHAHA! j/p I would have gotten crappy gifts regardless! snap!). So I’m sitting in the plane, starving, journaling (my pen ran out of ink and I couldn’t remember the last part of the sentence. It’s near midnight now and I just bought a new pen and I’m trying to remember everything I told myself to remember).

OK. After the plane ride I had a helluva time trying to find the shuttle bus ticket booth in LCC, so I could purchase a ride back to CAT (Central Air Terminal). Other booths were open, selling tickets for busses transporting to CAT, but they were 8-9 RM. Normally I’d just hop on, but I knew every ringgit would count and I had 83 RM and some odd change in my pocket.

I finally located the information booth where I was informed that I’m actually to pay at the bus. I almost walked away, but checked myself and asked the woman what colour the bus is. She smiled at the question (there are so many busses at the terminal!) and told me green. I found the right bus and the cashier helped me carry my luggage onto the bus. Yeah, that’s right – there’s no understorage or whatever it’s called. So I balanced my way through the mass of legs and luggage, stepping on a few feet along the way (an early commencement of what became a day-long routine), then settled, luggage in the aisle, near the rear door.

The bus sat for perhaps five minutes, waiting for more passengers, before we took off. The bus is by no means a luxury cruiser: the seats were torn, there was gum stuck on the window beside me, and the ancient fire extinguisher wasn’t quite secure in its dock, adding the clank of metal to the squeaking of chairs as the green behemoth began to rumble down the road.

Suddenly the bus’ operating racket was joined by an abrupt and urgent thumping from the rear right end of the bus. I think a tire blew. The driver quickly pulled off to the shoulder and got out to investigate, followed by two passengers who were probably just as curious to see what happened as they were eager to help. We waited perhaps five more minutes before the driver returned and pulled back onto the road.

I swear, we couldn’t have been going more than 30 km/hr. The squeaking of chairs resumed, but this time the clanking metal was replaced by thumping as the rubber remains of the tire beat the bus’ metal body. Cars honked as they crossed into the opposite lane and passed us.

Honestly, it was funny. It just goes from bad to worse! I suppose the “shit hit the fan” today, totally redefining what in my mind will always be the quintessential “Bad Monday.” Really, can anything else possibly happen? If I had to catch a flight, my situation would have been highly aggravating, but as that wasn’t the case, I couldn’t help snickering to myself as we limped along the road. My coworkers at multiple jobs told me I had a good attitude but I never really realized it about myself until today. I suppose the only thing we can do in situations we can’t change is find something to laugh about. Our only other option is to keep dwelling on all the negativity, making ourselves even more miserable.

The change in pace wasn’t horrible either. I had a chance to enjoy the beautiful flora that lines the road, something I couldn’t have done if we were flying by at 100 km/hr. This caused an interesting chain of thoughts that produced (for me) an epiphany (bananas are full of potassium? Hahaha). I noticed that the leaves were reddening and that dead leaves were lying under the trees (which I had also seen in Langkawi). This made me wonder what season it is in Malaysia. I know, it’s pathetic – my lack of knowledge of SE Asian geography; I don’t know if Malaysia is in the northern or southern hemisphere. Then I thought of whether equatorial nations even acknowledge seasons (other than “rainy” and “hot” as Hanna put it). What if a country crosses into hemispheres? Would it be summer in the northern part and winter in the southern part? Then I began to consider the nature of seasons in relation to the tilt of the earth’s axis, which – wait, no, I’m confusing myself again. Let’s forget the epiphany for now. I’m really tired. (We just went through security to enter the boarding gate and they actually queued us up in Male/Female. Uh-huh…)

When we finally got to CAT I began to look for luggage storage, because I was not about to carry luggage all the way around KL with me. I found a location: 30RM for a large bag, and 40RM for an extra large. I didn’t know which mine was but it didn’t matter; both are too expensive for my 81.50RM budget. So by all appearances I was about to carry my luggage all the way around KL with me.

It took me forever to find the train station. There’s a KLIA Ekspres train which travels non-stop to KL Sentral, where one can catch a transit line to KL Convention Centre (KLCC). Round-trip on KLIA Ekspres costs 70RM (which would leave me 11.50RM) so I sought the commuter train. Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA, airport code KUL) keeps touting the fact that it was voted the World’s Best Airport in its size division, but I think it’d be a whole lot better if half the airport economy wasn’t based on hawkers trying to cheat unsuspecting or desperate tourists. In addition to the multiple people approaching me to ride their overpriced taxis, I had two people tell me that there is no KLIA commuter train (though I pointed it out on the floor map) and then direct me to a certain bus or taxi. After multiple flights up and down the escalators, I found the commuter train.

I was a bit disappointed when I reached it. The KLIA line consists of five stops: KLIA; Salak Tinggi; Putajaya & Cyberjaya; Bandar Tasik Selatan; and KL Sentral. From KLIA to KL Sentral, the round-trip cost is…70RM! No different from KLIA Ekspres! I stood near the ticket counter for a bit trying to decide whether I wanted to go to KL or not, wondering how much farther my remaining ringgits would take me (if the price from KLIA to KL Sentral was 70RM, how much would it cost from KL Sentral to KLCC?). As I looked at the sign, though, I noticed something interesting: a direct trip is 35RM (one way), but if you purchase a ticket for Salak Tinggi or Putajaya, then at either of those stations purchase a ticket for KL Sentral, the price (one way) is 15.70RM. Ah-hah! I figured out a way to circumvent the system! After accounting for transit from KLIA to KL Sentral and back, I would have 50 ringgits to travel to and from KL Sentral and KLCC, and buy food (I hadn’t eaten since last night) and souvenirs.

Turns out I need not have worried about the transit price from KL Sentral to KLCC: the cost is a whoppin’ 1.60RM. Breaking the bank!!

The Petronas Towers greet you the moment you walk up the stairs from the subway station. I walked around for a ½ hour trying to find a good photo spot. Now on the beach, in a swimsuit, I didn’t mind the humidity, but walking in jeans down an uneven sidewalk lugging my bags made me very much aware of the mugginess. My average in Korea is two oil blot sheets; I used three today, but we’ll have to wait until July to get a completely fair & objective comparison (my record in Korea started in September when it’s not so hot and humid). Kudos to Secret Platinum because after all that I still don’t smell.

The concourse of the Towers are full of higher end boutiques. I didn’t go to the top; I was exhausted, hungry (it was nearing 4pm and I still hadn’t eaten) and I didn’t want KL SWAT teams attacking me for attempting to take my bags to the top of the towers (I kept remembering the Asian tourist who was taken down by DC SWAT because he was standing outside the Capitol building with his luggage, which the whole capitol considered a bomb threat).

I wasn’t too keen on doing a whole tour of KL with my luggage, so I headed back into the subway station to check out their shopping and dining. Found an interesting food court with a name that drew me in: Uncle Ho’s. How can one pass that up? Normally I wouldn’t be dining in a food court in a foreign country, but on 50RM a 5RM meal is pretty nice. Besides, who’s to say that food court food isn’t authentic? If the locals eat it, how much more authentic can it be? I took out my notes where CiCi and Bbing had given me a list of dishes to try and scanned the menus for a match. At one restaurant I found Penang Assam Laksa, which I hoped was similar to the “laksa” CiCi had directed me to try. I ordered it and a bottle of water for 6.30RM (a $2 meal!) and sat down to my meal. It was SO good. The broth is a sweet, savoury and spicy thick fish broth and it was packed full of large round noodles, fish and crab, pieces of fruit (I think maybe unripe mango) and topped with mint. Such a mixture of textures and flavours! I was very much impressed. I was so full I didn’t even finish the bowl of soup, which was disappointing; at another restaurant I saw “chendal” for 3RM, a dessert CiCi had suggested I try, but I had no room.

After lunch I headed back to KL Sentral where earlier I had seen kiosks with touristy items. I shopped around for a bit for souvenirs (and strangely found some jewelry with Korean writing on the packaging, implying that not all of the souvenirs were authentic Malay-made). After making some purchases, I headed back to KLIA, repeating my stopover at Salak Tinggi to save myself 19RM (if I visit again I’ll spend the extra 19RM and save myself the 20 minute wait for the next train).

It was 8pm by the time I arrived back at the airport, which would give me at least three hours before check-in, and five hours before departure. I bought some rojak, which Hanna had suggested I try. It’s a mixture of tropical fruits (pineapples, mangoes, papaya and dragon fruit) and cucumbers, topped with a brown sauce that includes oyster sauce, roasted peanuts, powdered pepper, and honey or some other sweetener. Malay people eat it as a dessert, which Hanna couldn’t comprehend; “How can anybody call it dessert when it contains soy sauce?” she had asked. I had agreed; soy sauce doesn’t sound very dessert-y to me either. It reminded me of an Iron Chef competition where somebody had tried to make a dessert out of the secret ingredient: fish. But I tried it just for the sake of trying it.

It was good! Perhaps it’s because I had been warned of the soy sauce-y flavor, so it wasn’t such a surprise to me. It was sweet, sour, salty and spicy all at once.

Still in the mood for sweets, a few hours later I headed over to McDonalds (I know! I’m sorry!) to try a red-bean sundae, which Hanna had also mentioned. In my defense, we don’t have red bean sundaes in either the US or in Korea (I don’t think, but I never really go to McDonalds either, so I wouldn't know). It was good, but I think I’ll stick with chocolate sundaes in the future.

Other than that, my time was spent wandering up and down the escalators, speeding across the travellators (a much more efficient word than “moving sidewalks”) and wandering into various souvenir shops. I searched the CVS for a pen, but they didn’t carry any.

After check-in, I finally went through the first security check and boarded the mini-train that would take me to departures. At a bookstore there I bought my pen and now I’m journaling.

Tuesday, 5 February 2008

I ended up sitting next to an 아저씨 who had been living in Malaysia for three years. He obviously wasn’t used to travelling. When I got on he was sitting in my seat, and I showed the flight attendant my ticket stub. I didn’t want to kick him out – I didn’t mind having the aisle seat – I just wanted to make sure it was okay to sit in the other seat, because I didn’t want somebody else kicking me out. I just assumed he was sitting in the wrong aisle. But before I could tell her, she spoke to him in Korean and he moved. Oh well. As we waited for departure the cabin was full of noise as people located their seats, filled the overhead storage bins, and clicked on their seatbelts. I suppose he was tired and wanted to sleep, but his sighing, 이씨ing, and general mutterings weren’t quieting things down at all. Then he picked up the duty-free catalogue and started 이씨ing again at the prices. I just rolled my eyes and smiled on the inside.

I slept for about an hour on the flight, and I was dead tired when we arrived back in Korea, but SO happy to be back home. When I turned on my phone I had a text message from Anna waiting for me: “welcome back. u were missed n mourned. get some rest 2day. u must be tired.” I was surprised and happy. I didn’t even remember telling her when I would return, but obviously she remembered, and that made me feel special. I called her up and started telling her about my trip. Yesterday I had wondered if the bad could get any worse, and apparently it can: when I told Anna about my foot, I lifted up my jean leg and was shocked to see that my whole leg was swollen. I hadn’t seen it since yesterday morning when I was putting on my shoes, and I was a bit frightened to see how much worse it had gotten. She told me to visit the doctor, which sounded like a very good idea.

I had been planning on buying some duty-free items before I left, but because of my foot I had absolutely no desire to shop much less search for the duty-free section; I just wanted to go home, shower, and see a doctor before it got any worse.

The ride back to 분당 on the airport limo seemed to take forever. The whole time I worried myself sick: I kept on wondering if the infection was so bad that I’d have to get my foot or leg amputated. I wondered how my parents would react if I told them: I went over the phone conversation in my head: “Mom, can I speak to Dad? (It’s safer to tell Dad the bad news, because his reactions are calmer) Dad, please sit down, and make Mom sit down too. Um…I just got my foot chopped off because it was infected. Oh, by the way, can you wire over some money, because I don’t have enough in my account to cover the bills. And perhaps shipping over some chocolate would make me feel better, too.” Then in my perversely Utilitarian mind, I thought about how being one-footed would help me in my law school apps (that’s horrible, I know it! I feel so despicable and I don’t even want to type this, but I have to because it’s kind of funny that I’d even think about this in such a situation!). I also began to wonder exactly how one could attach a prosthetic foot: how do you put it on so gravity doesn’t pull it off? Do you attach it around your knee since there’s a bulge there that would hold it in place? Then my mind wandered into medical science and I considered the idea of screwing a metal skeletal structure in the shape of a foot on to my ankle, then grafting on the necessary skin (can you graft muscle too?) so that I wouldn’t need a prosthetic. I debated between walking into a hospital (how much is emergency room care in Korea?) and scheduling an appointment. I wondered about how much being one-footed would change my life: could I ever run again? Would I be courageous enough to wear skirts or shorts? How would it affect my non-existent love life? Future Halloweens would be so predictable: I'd always have to be a peg-legged pirate! I’ll admit: I even teared up a little at the thought of having one foot, but we'll blame that on the lack of sleep I've experienced over the week.

My mind wandered between these thoughts, interrupted by angry thoughts about how slowly we were moving, and pulling up my jeans to see if the swelling had lessened at all.

Apparently Anna somehow touched on the same idea, because she was kind enough to text me something along the lines of: “hope you don’t get your foot chopped off. i’ll donate some toes if you need them.” Yeah, the offer of toes really touched my heart. Right. But she does know me: what better way to lessen the horror of a situation than by making somebody laugh?

As I walked home I passed by a beggar outside of Samsung Plaza. I had seen him many times before, but this was the first time I noticed that the end of his RIGHT leg consisted of a sock-covered stub, and a prosthetic foot lay beside him. Gawd… as if I needed any reminders...

When I got home I quickly took off my pants to examine the full extent of the damage. Both legs were swollen, but the right was considerably larger. I wondered if they were just swollen because I had been sitting in the plane for so long, and if there was really anything to worry about. I took a shower, then called MyongSoo. I needed some “mom advice” from somebody who knows about the Korean health care system. I told her of the situation, and she not only told me to immediately visit the hospital, but offered to take me there.

Being my mother’s daughter, I started a load of laundry and put on make-up while I waited. As we were driving to the clinic MyongSoo told me about a saying in Korea: cWith the bad comes the good.” She said that maybe something really good would accompany this whole foot fiasco.

She took me to a health care centre close to our school, and within five minutes we were speaking to a doctor (who spoke English!) and he was examining my foot. I couldn’t believe the speed at which we were moving; I had heard stories about waiting in American ER for hours before even being seen by a doctor, and here we were already in the examination room! He asked me about what happened, checked for symptoms, poked my foot a few times, then told me that I had a mild infection and an allergic reaction. He filled out a prescription for some medicines for the infection, and within five minutes I had already had a hydrocortisone shot for the allergies (another shot in the butt! Second butt shot in two weeks!). Talk about efficiency. To top it all off, when we were at the counter to pay I had my credit card ready but MyongSoo pulled out 만원 (about $10) and told me she’d cover it; it ended up costing about 4,000원 ($4)!!! We headed over to a pharmacy and bought some meds (another $4), then she invited me to her house for lunch. I couldn’t believe how fast and cheap it all was. Right now, sitting here with my foot almost back to normal, I know that it’s not only cheap and efficient, but it works!

On the way to her house she took me to the school to pick up a package that had arrived while I was gone. (I opened it up later – it’s cookie dough from mom! W00t!) She also told me that the doctor was pretty good-looking (for once, I had been too focused on something else to notice a cute man) and that I should visit again whether my foot was okay or not. HaHaHa.

I guess the bad is accompanied with the good. I not only received cookie dough (which I have been eating raw unashamedly!) but I was reminded about how good my family and friends are to me.

Wednesday, 6 February 2008

The bad is accompanied by the good indeed. Today was a wonderful day.

Around 10:30 I met 화규삼촌, my mother’s cousin, and he took me to visit his mother for Lunar New Year’s. 이모 할머니 (I just call her 할머니) used to watch me when I was a baby, and I was excited to see this woman who had been such a big part of my early life, but whom I didn’t remember at all.

삼촌 has a very gentle face, and he’s a very kind and gentle person. Before I had moved here, mom had given me a list of names and phone numbers, and she had said that if I needed anything I should go to him, because he was her favourite cousin. I could see why. He also speaks excellent English, which is amazing because when I asked him where he had studied, he told me that it was in middle and high school (and he’s 49 right now!). He has two sons: one is 22 and just joined the Air Force; the other is 20 and will be starting college in a few weeks. Before I had met them Anna and I had debated whether it would be incestual to start a relationship, whether the family tie was too close; we concluded that if they were ugly it would be incestual, but if they were cute it would be okay. Hahahaha! I didn’t meet 송우, the older, but the younger son, 송민 is a handsome guy. Deathly shy; I don’t think he spoke more than 10 words to me, even though I tried to speak to him in Korean.

삼촌’s wife, 숙모, is also very shy and quiet. The whole time we were at 할머니’s house she was in the kitchen preparing food (another stark reminder to NEVER date a Korean guy at the risk of falling in love with him and marrying him – and his family). She tried to kick me out every time I offered to help, but I did manage to make some 만두 (they actually made their own 만두 skins, something I had never witnessed before, as we had always bought ours) and wash the dishes. 할머니 told me that my 만두 was pretty, and I told her in Korean that my mother always said my 만두 was ugly, making her laugh. I made funny in Korean! Go me! Although 숙모 kept trying to kick me out while I was doing the dishes, I’m bigger than she and she couldn’t do it physically. I used my limited Korean to tell her that she should rest, and she finally joined the rest of the family in the living/bedroom.

할머니 only slightly resembles my 할머니. She’s four years younger than my 할머니 but she’s still 79 years old. As she lives in a Korean house, most of the sitting is done on the floor (삼촌 laughed at me because I kept changing sitting positions, as I’m not used to sitting on the floor for so long), and having older bones and joints, once she was on the floor it was difficult to get up. So if she was sitting and had to move somewhere, she would just slide over on the wooden floor. It was kind of amusing to watch, but it totally makes sense to me.

I met all of 할머니’s kids. 화규 is 작은삼촌, or younger uncle; I met 이모 (aunt) and her husband, and 작은삼촌 (younger uncle) and his wife and daughter 출희 (I’ll bet her “English name” is Julie). 이모 didn’t say a single word to me the whole time I was there (I honestly didn’t even know who she was until later but I did play with her purse dog), but 작은삼촌, through 화규삼촌, told me that when I was a baby men would come up to poke me to see if I was a real baby or just a doll.

It was wonderful meeting these beautiful people so far away from my own immediate family. It’s definitely prompted me to try harder on my Korean. I’d love to be able to communicate with them directly and grow closer to them.

Of course I brought gifts; I had bought some 홍삼 and some roots & jujube 차 for 할머니 and I had some 홍삼 for 화규삼촌. The red ginseng is only six years old (my mom always insists that it has to be at least seven years old to get its full benefits) but I figured that it’s close enough. If they drink it slowly enough another year will pass and they’ll have their seven-year old ginseng. I didn’t really expect to receive anything back; I didn’t really want the traditional gift of money. But when I left 할머니 had a bag packed for me and said that it was payment for helping make 만두. When I got home, it was full of 사과, 배, and 재주도귤, as well as a bag of 만두. I felt so thankful and happy, not only for the gifts, but that they had welcomed me into the family even though this was the first time we’ve seen each other in 23 years.

Thursday, 7 February 2008

As I type this I’m preparing to give Clubby a welcomed au revoir. My foot is no longer discoloured, I no longer have cankles, I can curl my toes, and my legs look like those of a woman about 20 lbs lighter than the legs of Monday. I can even start to see some of the bones in my foot again. I’m still a bit curious about the bumps around the scars – I think some sand got trapped in the cut and the skin healed over it – and I don’t know whether those will eventually go away or if I have to shave off the top layer of skin myself and rinse out all the sand pockets. Eeeww… At least if I have to do that I’ll have plenty of alcohol (rubbing and drinking) and Neosporin on hand to counter any risks of infection and dull the pain.

And with that, I believe this little adventure is over. It was a wonderful adventure, full of lasting memories. Some events were good at the time, some events were bad at the time, but they are all good memories because they make my life interesting, they give me a story to tell, and they offer something to chuckle about from time to time when they cross my mind.

First's & musings

2008-01-25T01:51:00.000+09:00

Wow. I haven’t been here in a while…

The reason why I’m actually here is because I’ve had a very interesting week. I suppose all the other weeks comprising the last three or so months have been really interesting, and I could tell you all about my shopping trips—multiple stops at남대문, 동대문, 명동, 이대, 용산, COEX Mall, Technomart, and the outlets at문정—or of our many trips to Caribou and Coffee Bean, but this week has been interesting because it’s been full of first’s. It’s odd to actually blog about everyday events, but for some reason (perhaps my extreme exhaustion) they seem really interesting.

In the past two weeks I’ve been to a hospital three times. Yes, three times. In the past two weeks I’ve been to a hospital more times than I have in the past two years leading up to the past two weeks (definitely due to happy circumstances over the past two years). I suppose I made my first trip to a Korean hospital 29 April, 1983, but today’s visit was my first trip as an independent adult, functioning wholly on my behalf. I woke up at 8:30 this morning, which was really difficult; Saturday and Sunday nights I couldn’t sleep until about 7 a.m. due to killer insomnia, and Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights were spent waking up every three or four hours. Needless to say, I’m exhausted as I’m typing this right now, and it’s not even midnight. But back to the story: I woke up at 8:30 a.m. to make my 10:50 appointment. Being myself, I miscalculated my travel time, and arrived at Samsung Medical Center around 11. Samsung Medical Center, you say? Samsung, one of Korea’s leading TV, mp3 player, home appliance, computer and car manufacturers? Yes, indeed, this mega 재벌 also does health care.

I chose SMC because it has an international clinic and it’s fairly close to my house (about 40 minutes by subway). Not as close as the hospital next door, but I’m going for the international clinic here. The doctor spoke excellent English, and we discussed the vaccinations I’d need for my upcoming trip. He concluded that any vaccinations would not be effective by the time I leave next week, but I requested some shots to prepare for any other trips I may take, in addition to some booster shots I needed anyhow. Good thing I got them here, because health care is so much cheaper than back home!! He prescribed my vaccinations, and was kind enough to prescribe my follow-up shots so I wouldn’t have to spend more money on another consultation.

With the nurse’s limited English and my limited Korean, I made my payment and she directed me to the Ambulatory Care Unit, where I’ll go next time for my shots. After a short wait, another nurse took me into a cubicle and pulled the curtain. I was curious why she had to close the curtain; I’m not so modest as to be embarrassed by baring my forearm. The next few moments revealed the reason: she had four needles: one for each shoulder, one for my stomach, and one for my butt. I basically had to strip down and I really felt bad for the poor woman, having to look at my untanned, jigglesome flesh. But where is the first in this story? This was the first time (that I can remember) that I’ve had a shot in the butt! Fortunately, it didn’t cause any of the discomfort I had expected.

Another first: at the risk of sounding like a bombastic man’s view of a prissy female, I changed a fluorescent light bulb. (I also just spelled “fluorescent” correctly on the first try—go me!) I’ve changed many light bulbs, but this was my first fluorescent. I’m really just telling this because there’s an interesting story to accompany it. After three days of excreting, washing my face and showering aided solely by the hallway lights and a glowstick, I decided it was time to change my bathroom light bulb (in my defense, I was really sick and didn’t leave the house except to hit up the pharmacy for some meds). Without the assistance of a stepladder, I removed the cover and took out the bulb. Being my mother’s daughter, I washed the dishes in the sink so I could wash the grimy bulb cover. Then (again, being my mother’s daughter) I decided to remove all of the dishes from the cupboard, wash them, and wipe down the cupboard shelves. After that I decided to remove the food from my shelves and wipe down the remaining cupboards. Then I busted out the bleach…and I defy you to detect a germ in my kitchen!

The bleach quickly made a short trek to the bathroom, and by the lights of the glowstick and a flashlight, I cleaned the bathroom. Then, just to round everything off, I vacuumed the flat. I topped this all off by washing the bulb cover. Bought the bulbs (buy 1 get 1 free!), replaced it, screwed the cover back on, and that’s the end of that story!

Some more things just because I’m in the mood to talk:

Korean Snickers bars. Back home Snickers was my chocolate. Yeah, sometimes you’re in the mood for and Andes or Lindt or Reese’s, but Snickers was my chocolate of choice whenever I started getting that nasty shakiness that hits me. I guess the peanuts are just comforting or something. Well, one of my students gave me a Korean Snickers bar for Christmas, but I switched purses shortly thereafter and didn’t rediscover her gift until this week. We have Snickers in Korea, of course, but I just call it a Korean Snickers bar because I can’t remember the name, and it’s very similar to a Snicker’s bar. Very similar—but so much better. Whereas Snickers has peanuts, nougat and caramel topped in chocolate, Korean Snickers goes one step further: coconut! A delectable bite of Korean Snickers is like Snickers...with a smidgen of Mounds. mmmmm...

Sexy Kiss Kiss. It seems I’ve seen all the other strip clubs in the neighborhood, but this one escaped my attention until last Friday. I did just say “other strip clubs.” Apparently, there is no red-light district in our affluent district; strip clubs are located across from the Coffee Bean where I sit and read, upstairs from academies young students attend, and next to restaurants. This boggles my mind! Not only are strip clubs themselves degrading to both women and men, but the fact that they are in high-traffic areas with easy access indicates that they are acceptable venues of entertainment. Rooms that were filled with wifebeaters and dragon-imprinted fake silk back home are filled with custom-tailored suits over here. But what REALLY pisses me off is the effect that it has on me: the chauvinism, the male-dominance that is behind the acceptability of high-profile strip clubs is the same chauvinism and male-dominance that is imbedded in every nasty, disgusting asshole who eyerapes me on the subway.

Before you have a horrible view about Korean men, let me tell you about a wonderful 아저씨 I met at a bus stop. I was in 분당, but I was near 보정역, which is pretty far from my house. By the time I was ready to leave, the last train had already left (subways close SO early here!). I wasn’t sure if I had enough cash for a cab, so I went to the bus stop and tried my best. I found a bus that stopped in my neighborhood and waited for it. And waited. And waited. I probably waited about 45 minutes before I asked the nice 아저씨 for some help. He said that the bus I was waiting for had already made its last round, but directed me to a bus that would take me to 오리역, then gave me the number for the bus that would take me to my house.

The bad thing about living in a new place is that we all have a tendency to remember the wonderful things of the past, and to focus on the negative things of the present. Often we enter a new situation with rose-tinted views towards our new surroundings, which only magnifies our dissatisfaction when we detect things that are not to our liking. Here, in my new surroundings, I notice the eyerapage on the subway, but overlook every kind smile and all the effort people put forth in trying to communicate with a foreigner in their country who doesn’t speak their language.

I’ll admit: I occasionally find myself comparing Korea with the U.S., even though I constantly tell myself that it’s a different country and it’s SUPPOSED to be different! Some of the different things are atrocious. Some of the different things take some getting used to. The “personal bubble” popped a long time ago in Korea, if indeed it ever existed. Jostling, even pushing is just a way of life. At first I took offense whenever somebody bumped me without apologizing, or when 할머니 one-arm pushed me out of her way; now I just bump back and step aside for 할머니. I’m certain that when I get back to the States people will think I’m the rudest thing that ever powered down the sidewalk, but let’s hope I’ll adjust back to American manners when the time comes. Many of the different things are wonderful: 떡볶이carts on every street corner, for one. Outdoor markets. Crazy cab drivers who get you to work in less time than you thought possible. Coffee Bean. Eating roast octopus tentacles on the street without getting weird looks. 이대.

But some things can’t be compared. There are beautiful people everywhere, and I’ve seen my fair share here. My not-boyfriend who willingly gives me free consultation on all my electronics needs. My coworkers who frequently bring snacks to share. A few days ago two of my students saw me, grinned, ran up to me and hugged me. On a sidewalk. In public. Yesterday the pharmacist not only asked me for my symptoms and based the medicine off of that, but she wrote the doses and times on the box. Today the nurse reached all the way back to her high school education so she could give me instructions in English, in a country whose official language is Korean.

I don’t often have a reason to complain about this country, my mother’s country, now, I suppose, my country. I usually adjust pretty well to new situations. The few times I get really fed up I try to remind myself that the good outweighs the bad. But sometimes, it’s just refreshing to consciously remember all the beautiful and generous people that have come into my life in this new world. Not only does it prove that the good outweighs the bad, but it makes me truly appreciate these people we call Korean.

27 Sept. 2007

2007-10-05T11:58:00.000+09:00

Wow. It feels like forever since I've been here, just because I have so much to write about. It's 2:15 am and I'm writing until I fall asleep, which shouldn't take long because my bedtime dose of sleep-aide is starting to work.

It's been a busy two weeks. Let's start with last Monday.

Monday 17 Sept. 2007
Well, let's start with Saturday.

Saturday 15 Sept. 2007
I got all dressed up to head down to Seoul to see Uncle Paul and Imo, who had arrived last Sunday. It's the first time I've seen them in about a year.

Funny thing happened on the way. The floor of the bus was soaking wet. Looking good and all, I got up and walked to the exit. The moment I let go of the rail to grab my phone, the driver slammed on the brakes to stop and I went down. In front of a busload of people. Wet my pant leg falling on the floor. hahaha

I met them right outside 녹사평. It was awesome. When I was in DC I was probably 20 lbs. heavier than now; when I saw them in ICT I was probably 10 lbs. heavier, so it was nice to hear Imo (my Korean Imo!!) comment on how nice I looked (take notes, mom!)

We headed a few blocks down to Yongsan (용산) Army Base to eat some good ol' fashioned American food. It was like stepping into America. Mark, Becky, Trey & I are all military kids, so I can imagine that they all felt like they were coming home, just like I did. Everywhere we looked, it was like a snapshot of the US -- blacks, whites, Latinos, Asians, mixed-race people!! -- such a break from the homogeneity of Korean society.

Mark & I ate at Burger King. I loved Burger King back home. I love it even more in Korea. And I really love it at Yongsan Army Base in Korea.

Going back to the train station was almost surreal. It was like stepping thru a portal from the States to Korea. All of a sudden we were surrounded by Koreans again.

Mark & I headed to Korean class, and on to 명동, where we ate at a 돈갓스 restaurant. Good stuff!

Sunday 16 Sept. 2007
I was supposed to go on a tour of Sharing House, which is a shelter for victims of Japan's "Comfort Women" sex-trafficking policy. Notice my use of "supposed." We were to meet at 10 am, and I was late. So I just stayed on the bus til I arrived at 명동. Bought some much-needed cosmetics at Clinique in the Lotte Dept. Store, then managed to stumble into a Migliore store (cue in heavenly chimes). This was an experience in itself. Everything is hip, trendy, and CHEAP. Basically, the clothes are fashioned after brand-name gems and made in nameless factories. So you see a lot of "like DKNY" or "like Seven" etc. No problem for me! I bought 3 shirts, some 1/2 pants, slacks and a skirt. The most interesting part was trying on the clothes. The Migliore is made of little booths with a salesperson and clothes. Not enough room for a dressing room. So you put a skirt on top of you pants, take your pants off, try on the sales item, take the skirt off, look at yourself, and reverse the process. So basically the skirt is a mini-dressing room. The first time a saleswoman suggested it I deferred, but after that I decdied to risk the process (I really wanted the capris!) and the whole things kinda grows on ya.

Spent the evening doing laundry.

Monday 17 Sept. 2007
Today was the first day of orientation. I spent the early part of the morning packing and getting ready. Really, it makes sense. This orientation is my big chance to meet new friends! No language barriers, no cultural barriers to worry about, because we're all English-speakers from Western nations, presumably raised on the beautiful ideologies of the Englightenment, liberalism, civil and human rights, and feminism. *happy sigh*

Took the train to Moran station, then the 2007 bus to Suwon station, then the train to Byeongcheom. I was exhausted. At 병점 I got on the GPOE bus that took us to La Vie d'Or (the Golden Life).

On the bus I sat next to and talked with Kate. She's from Wisconsin, taking a year off to catch up on some writing. Really friendly and interesting. We're kinda in the same boat -- both considering our further education for the learning rather than the jobs that follow.

I expected the hotel room assignments to be pre-arranged, but that wasn't the case. Basically, a woman came up to me and asked me if I had any friends. I said no, so she went and got me some. Lei is the oldest, and she is the sweetest and most sincere woman. She's like an open book, and she has nothing to hide because she doesn't need to hide anything. Lei is Chinese, but an Aussie.

Jen is in her late 20s. As in 27. Jen is Chinese as well, hails from Toronto. Sammi is from San Jose & is Vietnamese. She's 26. Surprisingly, they're both from 양평, which according to their accounts, is a small podunk town. They're like polar opposites: Jen is loud & boisterous, tough as nails, while Sammi is quiet, serious, gentle and sensitive.

We had a few seminars and that night we took a walk around town. Wasn't much to see -- it took about 5 minutes. Basically a few bars, a few 노래방s, a salon, an adult store, a CVS (Family Mart is a savior!), and, surprisingly, a SE Asian grocery store.

We visited 3 pool halls, each of which had one set of 8-balls (the others were Korean pool) and they were in use by other conference members. So we headed to the 노래방 for a night of laughter and hurting ears. Sammi turned out being the best singer...as in she could actually hit the notes. But Jen & I had stunning performances of "Bed of Roses" and, of course, the instant hit "My Heart Will Go On." And I did get a perfect score on "SexyBack." Boo-ya!

Tuesday 18 Sept. 2007
CRAZY. That's all I can say.

In the am Summer introduced us to Andy, and we never managed to shake him off, haha. Andy's originally from Hong Kong, speaks Mandarin & Cantonese, and is a Torontonian (I say Torontan). He and Jen hit it off right away, as they're from the same area in Toronto. Apparently his brother butchered Jen's hair once. She wanted "Reese Witherspoon bangs" but got a Scooby-doo look, but still tipped him well because she thought he was cute. Small world. Shallow woman. The better I know Jen, the more I realize how similar we are.

So Andy ended up being our roommate. Sammi moved to the couch, since she really didn't like the bed, & Andy took her bed. The invite was for one nite but he extended it to 3.

I don't know how I got on the topic, but I suggested we have a scary story night. So we turned off all the lights except a small table lamp, which we dimmed.

I started out with the Korean legend Young-ji told me about the 귀신 who hovers above people as they bathe. When you wash your hair you're not supposed to look up because if you make eye contact with her she'll haunt you. I concluded, of course, by mentioning that I've looked up multiple times but never saw her.

This whole time Sammi's curled up on the floor. She says she gets scared easily. Easily as in she got scared watching X-Men...

Jen picked up next with some uber-creepy stories. Creepy because they happened to her. When she was little she and her sister shared a room. Their brothers would play pranks on them. Their bedroom had a door to the hallway, a door to the closet, and a door to the balcony outside. One night they heard knocking on the balcony door. They assumed it was their brothers but when her sister opened the door there wasn't anybody there. This happened a second time, and a third time. After the third time, though, there was pounding on all three doors. Even if it was their brothers, there are only 2 brothers, and 3 doors. Ugh. I just got creeped out just from writing that down.

Second Jen story: same house (her parents still live in that house). Once she and her sister were at home with their grandmother. Jen was in the kitchen (surprise!) and her sister & grandmother were in the living room, when they heard running footsteps on the stairs and a door slamming. They thought it was each other until Jen walked into the living room to see what the commotion was about. They realized that it wasn't one of them so they went upstairs to investigate. Nobody there, but one of the doors was closed.

Last Jen story. When her sister moved into her first house she befriended a Native American. One day he gave her a feather, which she placed on her mantlepiece. Jen called her later that day and while they were talking she heard screaming over the telephone. Her sister asked her if she heard the screaming, and Jen affirmed. Her sister told Jen that it was coming from inside the house. If that wasn't creepy enough, the next day the Native American asked her if anything strange had happened. Cautiously, she said that she had heard screaming inside her house. The Native American told her that he had sensed an evil spirit in the house & he gave her the feather to drive it out. Creepy.

OK. To make this even creepier, the lamp we had dimmed had been flickering periodically. I was sitting with the lamp and TV behind me -- lamp on my left and TV on my right -- so between the lamp flickering, Ringu memories, and scary stories, I was starting to feel very creeped out.

Now Andy's time to shine. His first story was about a trip he made to his aunt's house when he was little. She lived in the Hong Kong suburbs on a lane that led to a Buddhist temple. At night, this whole lane would be pitch black, except for the dim lights thrown from inside the housed. At the end of the dark lane, however, was the red light from inside the temple. One night they were playing hide-and-seek, but they couldn't locate one friend. They assumed he had just gone home mid-game, so they didn't worry about it. The next day, the friend was found in the temple. He had had seizures. Before and since then, he never had any seizures (he's ok now).

Second Andy story was about a Toronto highway exit ramp (which Jen used to drive almost daily). Apparently the city decided to put up a high fence because people would jump off the ramp. Once his friend, fairly inebriated at the time, was on that ramp around midnight. He immediately sobered up because he saw a girl at the top of the fence. He asked the driver if he could see her, but by the time the driver looked, the girl had jumped off. Later this friend asked Andy if he could go with him there. Completely sober this time, they took the ramp, searching for the ghost. But when the temperature immediately dropped inside the car, they high-tailed it out of there.

Last Andy story: in the early 1990s the Hong Kong subway system aired a commercial, then pulled it within days. The ad features 6 children playing choo-choo train in the woods, each child with his hands on the shoulders of the child in front of him. At the end is a cute chubby boy with a hat. In one shot, though, a girl with her head down is right behind him. The next shot shows the boy at the end, with nobody behind him. When they asked the boy he said there wasn't anybody behind him but he had felt like there was.

We headed downstairs to the computer room & found the clip on YouTube. It was creepy. For a while. Then we started imitating the ghost girl and after that it was really funny. (For the ad, just go to YouTube & search "KCR ghost.")

It's about 4 am & I keep hearing noises in my flat that are getting me all jittery & jumpy.

That night we couldn't sleep. Jen must have said, "OK, goodnight guys" about 20 times. Andy was in the bed next to Lei's room, Jen was in the middle bed, and I was in the bed closest to the window. Sammi was on the couch a few feet from the foots of our beds.

We were all freaked out, and our conversations ranged from creepy things like the Grudge & Ringu to absurd and funny things like Ralph Wiggums to get our minds off the scary stuff. Twice I jokingly jumped into Jen's bed, and she immediately pushed me out, saying she doesn't like to be close to people. Best, the lamp which was off, kept flickering ON.

We had finally quieted down and were getting ready to sleep when we had the fright of our lives. Our walls were peach-colored, so they were light. Suddenly we saw something black moving in front of them. Jen & I started screaming and before I knew it, Jen, who doesn't like to be close to people, was IN MY BED. My TWIN BED. The light came on. The culprit? Not the creepy Japanese woman in the Grudge. No, it was sweet Sammi, looking for the light so she wouldn't trip on the way to the bathroom.

That incident must have scared Jen pretty badly, because she had to go to the bathroom too. I hid on the floor between her bed and Andy's bed (I didn't want to hide between her bed & my bed because I didn't want something grabbing me. If something grabbed me between Jen & Andy's beds, at least Andy would be right there. hahaha I'm such a sissy). When Jen climbed back into her bed, I grabbed her feet. She started screaming again. It was so funny.

Poor Lei.

Wednesday 19 Sept. 2007
Back in the States, whenever I went to a camp or someplace where I meet new people, I always hung out with Asians. I figured that in Korea at orientation I would hang out with white people. Wrong-o! With the exception of Summer, everybody I hung out with was...Asian. Including Anna, a full-Korean girl from...Toronto. What is it with me & Torontans?

After sessions we learned that GEPIK coordinators had actually planned our orientation as a front for "Get to know Andy" week. At least that's what he told us. We learned all about him, and we actually managed to diagnose all of us. Sammi & Andy are people who base their relationships around one significant other. They have long relationships & it takes them a long time to bounce back when it falls thru. Jen & I, though, base our relationships on a core group of friends. We don't have boyfriends; we just date guys. "Long relationships" means dating the same guy for longer than a month, & when it ends we're not too phased -- and if we are we have that core group of friends to laugh us out of our shallow colorless funk. So how's that for analysis?

Thursday 20 Sept. 2007
After morning seminars we headed to Hwaseong Fortress for a tour. This was awesome. Built by King Jeongjo in honor of his father, this seven-year project was completed in two years. Only two original buildings in the palace complex remain -- the others were destroyed ruing Japanese occupation and the Korean War.

Hwaseong Fortress is also the site where some Era K-dramas are filmed, based partly, I'm sure, on its proximity to Seoul. It was interesting to see someof the rooms I recognized in K-dramas, like the classroom in Dae Jang Geum.

I spent the majority of the trip back to La Vie d'Or talking with a man who shall go unnamed. As we spoke I could feel a hot gale rushing from the general direction of Jen's flared nostrils.

After dinner we attended a Korean traditional music performance. It was awesome. A woman opened up with pansori, which I couldn't even imagine doing in hanbok. A man in hanbok followed her with the fan dance. My favorite was the gayageum soloist. I never knew that gayageum could sound so beautiful until I heard her perform. It was amazing. She was followed by gayageum twins (really, they were twins), then she joined the twins for the gayageum triumverate performance, which included Pachelbel's canon, one of my favorite pieces. Next up were the 4-drum performers. These were elementary school students!! I couldn't believe that nine children could remain on beat through an entire performance which included stop-and-go rhythm and sudden pace changes. They sounded really good, and their performance was so electrifying.

We decided to follow this up with a bit of music of our own, so we headed to the 노래방. Big mistake, as we subsequently experienced what Jen called 노래방 rape. Because of the size of our group we had to sit at the same table as some of the GEPIK people (i.e. our bosses). They offered us drinks. In Korea, when somebody offers you a drink (especially somebody higher on the Confucian hierarchy), it's very rude to refuse. I wasn't a big fan of straight whiskey, and 노래방 rape didn't change anything. Then they asked us to sing. And asked. And asked. We couldn't say no. We tried but they wouldn't stop asking until we agreed. After avery embarrassing song (to which two straight Korean men danced -- with each other!) one of the guys decided to engage me in conversation. Unfortunately he didn't have a filter on his mouth -- he kept spitting -- on me! -- when he talked. Gross.

After we managed to escape (note to self: never go to a 노래방 unless there are private rooms) we headed down to Family Mart for some 김밥 to soak up the whiskey. There we ran into a really classy guy. He actually tried to convince us that it's okay for him to cheat on his wife because Korean men do it. Wow. What a stunning display of his excessive illogic. But what more can we expect from a scumbag like that? Best of all, he was a white man trying to convince western women that it's okay for him to cheat on his western wife because Korean men cheat. I had not idea what was going on (focusing on my 김밥, I'm afraid) so I couldn't waste my breath reciting figures on the rising divorce rate in Korea as women through education and modernization are exposed to more egalitarian ideology and thus demand fairness and integrity from their husbands and partners. Nor was I able to inform him that it would be very difficult to cheat unless he paid for it, as he wasn't in any way physically attractive. I'm afraid that he's just another scumbag cracker who thinks that Korean women are just desperate to be with white men.

After we managed to escape we headed to British Andy's room for poker, which never materialized since we didn't have chips or enough change. But we did play some truth game where if your drawn card didn't fall in a particular range you had to answer a question. Which didn't really apply since we answered the questions regardless of whether we had to.

Friday 21 Sept. 2007
After morning sessions and lunch I hopped on a bus to head back to 병점역. As we were exiting the bus I started speaking with a guy named Stephen. I had noticed him during orientation and thought he was Korean since he always dressed well: slacks and dress shirts, compared to our jeans, tees & hoodies. At the train station we started up a flight of stairs. He wanted to carry my luggage but I told him I was fine. After a few more steps, though, he insisted that he carry it. He said he couldn't walk next to a woman and let her carry a heavy suitcase when he could do it instead (it wasn't heavy, but ok!). No chauvinism or machoism involved, just pure gentleman-ness. As Jen put it when I told her later, "Who says chivalry is dead?" Even in Korea!

At the top of the stairs I took my luggage back but when we reached another flight of stairs he took it again. He admitted that he wasn't very strong but he'd rather carry it than watch me carry it. Wow. He just shot up a coupla notches on the Hot-o-meter with that humility and sweetness.

On the train to Suwon station we talked a bit more. He's Taiwanes (that's how he id'd himself) from NOVA. Where in NOVA? Fairfax. He lives in 남양주, same city where Summer is. By the time we parted at Suwon, I had another number in the ole celly phone.

It felt so good to get home! I was only about 30 km from home, and my travel time was roughly an hour, but I felt like I had just gotten home from an extensive trip. My own bed, my own pillow, my laundry machine!! I put in a load and crashed. Three nights in a row of 3 hrs. a sleep took its toll. I was out.

Saturday 22 Sept. 2007
Surprisingly, I was up before noon on a Saturday -- SECOND WEEK IN A ROW! Wow.

Met with Uncle Paul & Imo at the same place. This time I opted for some TB tacos. Chalupas to be exact. In retrospect I should have gotten nachos, but everybody has 20/20 hindsight vision.

Afterward Mark & I headed to Sookmyung for class. Having a bit of trouble with grammar, but I hope I can pick it up. I hate not being able to talk with people! What can I say? I think I'm a terribly witty person and thus I enjoy hearing myself. I know all my friends are nodding in agreement -- shut up Jen!

Sunday 23 Sept. 2007
Ended up meeting Jen & Sammi out in 청랑리, and area of 서울 I've never visited. We headed back to 명둥 to meet up with Anna & Andy. En route I found out it was Anna's birthday. Oops. Didn't get the memo. never took a moment to really consider what the date was, so I ended up forgetting to tell my mother "Happy Birthday." Felt really guilty about that, but Orientation threw me off datewise.

Ahhhh...명둥...where Anna and I discovered our beloved vendor near the Burger King. Yes, she sells *cue in heavenly chimes* 1000W earrings. The whole time we're checking out bling Andy's reminding us how hungry he is. hahaha Side note -- Anna bought some giraffe earrings that I made fun of. Remember that.

We ended up eating at the donkatsu place Mark & I had visited the last time. I was in the mood for 짜장면, but donkatsu won out.

After that, back to the street carts. Jen & Anna were walking ahead when Andy spotted some giraffe earrings similar to Anna's, except with sparklies. He bought them & I put them on while Sammi distracted Jen & Anna. Anna's response when she saw me wearing the earrings: "You outblinged me!"

Andy took his leave so he could get ready for his China trip. The girls all headed over to Tom N Toms for coffee shop goodies. I ordered: 그란대 차이 티 라태, 아이스," which is Konglish for "Grande chai tea latte, iced." This was also what was written on the menu. The lady behind the counter looked at me bewildered. Anna started laughing. The conversation continued as thus:
Cast of characters:
TNT: Tom N Toms lady behind the counter
M: Monica
A: Anna
S: Sammi
J: Jen
TNT: *blank stare*
A: *snicker snicker*
TNT: chai tea latte?
M: Yes...
TNT: *vertically spreading hands apart & bringing them close together*
A: *chortle chortle*
J: *snicker snicker*
M: Grande...
TNT: hot or iced?
A,J,S: *giggle giggle*
M: Iced...

My friends suck.

But Jen quickly redeemed herself. At the 1000W earring cart Anna & I had gotten some matching pairs of earrings, which we dubbed "couple earrings" in reverent mockery of the practice among select Korean couples to wear matching attire. We tried on each pair and forced Jen to take pictures as we "귀스" (ear kissed - Anna's wannabe Konglish pun). Jen always brags about her amazing camera so she totally deserved a photo shoot.

13 Sept. 2007

2007-10-05T10:41:00.000+09:00

Ok, I haven't been here in a while. Humblest apologies.

A lot has happened while I was MIA. Hmm...let's start with Mt. Nam, or Namsan. SoYoon is the girl who went to live with my parents and attend school, and while she was here her parents invited me to join them for an outing. We started out in Jamsil to watch the Lion King musical at the Charlotte Theater. That was an awesome experience. I haven't seen the movie since I was maybe 12, and I didn't understand most of the dialogue because of my lack of Korean, but the music, color and choreography was just amazing.

After the play they took me to Namsan. We parked at the base and took a bus nearly to the top, and walked the remainder of the mountain. Now understand, it wasn't a rough hike by any means, but 3 of 5 of us were in heels. That does complicate things a bit (going back down was much more exciting - and dangerous!).

Seoul Tower sits at the top of Namsan, and we went up to the observationd deck. The view was AMAZING. I had always taken the bus or subway through Seoul, and I had never fully understood just how big the city is. It's HUGE! Even with binoculars everything was so tiny. I took a moment to check out the Blue House and was kinda surprised at the lack of guards - I'm used to the White House where snipers openly patrol the rooftops. But the city literally stretched beyond eyesight, and it was a relatively smogless day. And we haven't even accounted for the suburbs yet!

For dinner we headed to 이태원 (Itaewon). We actually parked right next to the mosque. Now I'm used to Muslim-Americans, so this was totally foreign to me. The people I saw were not Korean Muslims, but Arab Muslims. Now I know that many Muslims are Arab and that last sentence sounds ridiculous, but what I mean is that they weren't men in suits and western attire who worshiped at a mosque - they were actually men in the white robe things. I kid you not - it was like driving up a Korean hill in Itaewon, and reaching the top and wondering how you ended up in Marakesh. It was a bit concerting to see police standing outside the gates in riot gear, but then I remembered the hostage situation and it made sense.

We ate at a Turkish restaurant just outside the mosque gate. I'll admit, I'm not as fond of Turkish food as I am other Mediterranean food. But it might be worth a second try just so I can see what a hookah is all about. I'd also like to try Turkish coffee.

Fast-forward a week to next Saturday (during this week we're resuming the school year). Suknam and I headed out to Cheongyesan, a mountain in the southern tip of Seoul. (Cheongyesan translates roughly into Clear Water Mountain.) This was a 3-hour trek. About 8 million steps, give or take a few. No, but seriously, it was a rough hike. But totally worth every step. When we got to the top we enjoyed the elation of accomplishing a difficult hike, the summit's cooler temperatures, a lovely breeze, and a spectacular view on a sunny day. Add to that the calming music of another hiker's radio (Koreans love classical!) and the peaceful blaance fo the mokttang (a wooden drum) that the Buddhist monk was beating somewhere on the mountainside.

After that, a shower, a long phone conversation with mom (which replaced my nap), and off to see the Simpsons. It wasn't as funny as I had expected it to be, but it was still good (probably due in part tothe fact that I was desperate to watch a movie in English! Hey, I even watch the stupid French movies on EBS just in an effort to watch something I can understand!)

Fast-forward a few weeks to last Wednesday. I met up with Rosa in Gangnam. We went out ot a shabu shabu restaurant. It was ok. The tasty part was a microbrewery we went to afterward. This place had an excellent stout. I tried their Belgian white & it tasted like orange juice with bubblegum. Not so fond of that, but the stout was good.

After that, snacky time at the street cart. Ddukboggi & soondae is a wonderful way to end the night.

I went to bed late that night...1:30, late for a school night. Never thought I'd actually say "school night" - I feel so fifth grade. Thursday morning I woke up feeling drained, and by that afternoon it had transformed into a full-blown sore throat. I was miserable Thursday and Friday - the worst part is knowing that I have to get extra sleep but not being able to sleep long enough because of the pain.

By Saturday I was feeling much better. Frequent napping helped. I met with Mark at 용산 (Yongsan) to buy a DVD player. While there I also got an mp3 player charger, so I don't have to hook up to my computer (yes!). By this time I was heartily sick of soup, so we had donkatsu followed by ice cream.

We headed to 인사동 (Insadong) to check out some of the shops. This was my third trip to Insadong, but my first trip during the day. So it was nice to actually go into the shops and look around - they're nice! Lots of interesting things going on in those. Expensive, but I'm willing to shell out extra cash in exchange for mass-produced culture.

After Insadong we hit up 명동 for shopping and pizza. Tried the kimchi and bulgogi pizza (my suggestion) and it just tasted like pizza sauce. I couldn't taste the kimchi or bulgogi unless I actually picked off a piece and ate it. Mark, Becky & Trey left on the subway, but I wanted to take the bus. So I had my own little adventure downtown looking for abus stop that would deliver the right bus. It was a wonderful experience. I didn't go far - only 3 blocks or so - but it was far enough to take me out of the busy tourist district into the city's business district. Sometimes it's just nice to wander around and explore new areas. And I picked up a free map AND I discovered an underground shopping area. Best of all, I remember where they are. :)

Sunday I woke up feeling like crap again, so I just stayed home and cat-napped and worked on lesson plans. Back to the soup diet!!

Mondays are rough for me. It takes me a couple of classes to get my lesson plans down pat, so Mondays are my experiment days. I feel sorry for my Monday classes. They get Monica teacher in full-blown rookie form. This Monday was worse because I was losing my voice and started getting severe congestion. After work I headed to a pharmacy to get some medicine (DayQuil wasn't cuttin it for me). I practiced my broken Korean (nose=구 & ear=귀) and the pharmacist looked at me like I had OD'd on meds, then asked, "Congestion?" Thank God for English-speaking pharmacists! She even told me, "Two pills, 3 times a day." Wow.

Tuesday my voice was even worse, and I began to wonder what I should do if I totally lost it. My coteachers kept asking me if I was okay, but it wasn't so bad as long as I blasted the mike (somebody made fun of me for abbreviating microphone as mike, but we do the same for Michael, right?). And I learned that just telling the kids that I'm losing my voice and asking for their help (or just calling their numbers and telling them to read) really goes a long way.

Wednesday was a low point in my voice misadventure. In one class I actually started to gurgle. haha One of the boys made fun of me until I glared at him. But really, the noise was pretty funny. Embarrassing at the time, but funny. I met with Rosa again in 강남 (Gangnam) for 닥갈비 & it was GOOD. Man that's one of the best flavors - similar to 데지불고기. After that, off to Iceberry for some dessert. We were both sick with colds but ice cream sounded really good. Rosa warned me that the gelato wasn't creamy, but I got it -- and she was right. It looked all gooey and creamy, but it deceived me. To use next class's SAT vocab word: its appearance was fallacious!

Oh, one funny thing. Rosa is my age, single, pretty and we share similar views on a lot of things. One inside joke we have is about "beady little eyes." She commented once about how creepy Korean businessmen are, and I totally agree with her -- they're middle-aged men who shamelessly eyeball young women like my mom eyeballs a package of ribeye at the butcher's. She referred to "beady little eyes" and that's our new catch phrase. I told the story to Mark and he knows what I'm talking about. Old men stare at him too, because he's darker. And to prove all our theories, on the subway from Yongsan to Insadong, we caught no less than three men just sitting there, staring. I've gotten into the habit of defiantly staring back until ajeoshi ends his power trip and looks away.

So because of these little incidents, I included in my lesson plan (on American/western culture and customs) a little bit about how rude it is to stare at people. Of course I differentiated between making eye contact (good) and staring (bad). So after this important lesson, I catch myself sitting at my desk staring at one of the teachers. He's hot. Not really physically hot (he's cute), but he's got that shy-guy hotness (I can't believe I just stole a character from Super Mario 2 and used it to describe a coworker). But in my defense, I was at least furtive about it and very discreet, and my computer was open in front of me so if he glanced my way I could just look down and pretend like I was working. Or maybe just smile and wink at him, haha.

Which brings me to today. My voice is much better. And I'm learning a very important lesson about teaching school -- there are lots of bads, but you have to focus on the good. It's so easy to get depressed and down after a hard class. These kids tire you out. I ate lunch with SuJeong today and we talked about how tiring the job can be. But it's really the good things that make it worthwhile. It feels so good teaching kids something they don't know and hearing "Oh!" because you know that the light just clicked on. And today, I had three kids -- three middle school students! -- tell me that they hoped I'd start feeling better. That kinda stuff makes one feel better immediately! And today, my 208 class, a class I wanted to strangle last time, participated and behaved. I always like my 213 class, because they're very bright, but they don't act like know-it-alls; they participate and try to learn. And the first-graders are sweet and endearing, as always.

Today was a great day. I know that these days won't last. Some days will be hell like last Thursday and Friday. But the trick is to focus on the good: find some of the good students and talk to them and be their friend, or talk to one of my coworkers, or find a Family Guy clip on YouTube (never fails).

So I've been here for two months today. During these two months I've gotten 3 middle schoolers with crushes, one for each grade. I'm quite proud of my ninth-grader. I don't have any ninth-grade classes, I just happened upon a group of 3rd-level boys in the hallway after class. Korean kids are extremely reticent to speak English -- the three exceptions to this rule are "Hi," "Thank you," and "I love you!" which actually sounds more like "I lobeu you!" This group of guys was no different so I was greeted by a loud chorus of "Hi!" I asked them how they were doing and one replied, "Fine, thank you! How are you?" I said, "I'm well," and he said, "Pleased to meet you!" I shook his hand and he giggled like a little girl. Hilarious.

My second-grade crushee is quite useful. When I need a volunteer a smile will do the trick. Unfortunately his English comprehension is quite low, so it's hard to explain things. But he's #37, the one who covered his face with his hands on my first day, and since he's usually one of the naughty boys, it's nice that he's behaving.

And last, my first-grader. It's fun to go to that class because all of his classmates tease him when they see me. He can't even answer a question in class without getting a chorus of "Aaaaahhh!" Haha

I really appreciate the summer camp and our after school class. This gives me an opportunity to interact with kids outside the classroom. First, I can get to know them better, and they get to know me better. Since they're more comfortable, they participate more during our regular classes. Second, we can do things in small groups that I could never do with 40 kids, so it feels like I'm making a greated impact. My after-school class is made up mostly of 1st graders, but three 2nd graders joined as well. I was worried about having older kids because their levels are higher and I'm afraid the younger kids won't have a chance to learn. But yesterday I had the older kids join the younger kids' goups and I was really impressed with the way my 2nd-graders helped my 1st-graders. These 3 guys are from the 213 class, which I really like.

I also love it when kids come to my desk to talk to me. Boys usually don't do it, but the girls will. Unfortunately, our conversations usually start out with, "Teacher, give me candy!" But I'll make them speak with me in English before I fold and open up the candy drawer. What can I say? I'm willing to buy their love! As I mentioned, they've gotten the "Thank you" down, but we're going to have to work on the "Please" end. My coteacher MyongSoo was making fun of some girls today because they kept saying "I lobeu you!" So MyongSoo would say, "Moneeka teacha, I lobeu you!" She does a really good job with the impersonations.

my story

2007-08-08T14:55:00.000+09:00

I'll just start out today by letting everybody know that I am workin it. Let's see... I'm sportin some sparkly black flip-flops, and some cute jean shorts, a black leather belt, and black and white plaid cap, and... a Puma tee. haha. Oh, and my hair is curled. Details are coming.

Yesterday I learned a very important lesson. I made a big fuss about the fact that I looked good. I mean real good. Like Ron Burgundy good. Well, on the way home, I discovered that expensive shoes + monsoon season = no good. Apparently, a light drizzle can immediately evolve into a five-inch-deep-twelve-foot-wide-puddle-producing deluge, which it did. My shoes are still drying out (bear in mind, this occurred 24 hours ago) and I don't suppose I'll know the extent of the damage until they're completely dry. As I was walking I considered the idea that I should have waterproofed them, but I know it wouldn't have made a bit of difference. They were soaked inside out. Like soggy shoeprints in the hallway soaked. Like soggy shoeprints in the hallway squishy water noise every time you step soaked.

But today I had an even better experience.

I'll start out by saying that this story doesn't quite reach the height of propriety. In fact, my Korean side is encouraging me to not record this story, while my American side thinks it's really funny and is egging me on. I grew up in the American culture, so you know which side trumps.

One of the perks about living alone is that when I'm home by myself, I can wear -- or not wear -- whatever I want. I've never experienced this before, and I really like it. The courtyard is a couple of hundred feet, so I know that if I leave my lights off, people cannot see into my apartment, and I have a great deal of freedom. This morning I took advantage of this freedom again. Those who have had Korean food before know that it's extremely smelly and I wisely took off my shirt so it wouldn't smell like food.

It has rained nonstop today. Around noon I decided to make some kimchi chiggae, since it was one of those wet, cool, drizzly kimchi chiggae type days. I put some oil in the pot and started the gas burner. I've had trouble adjusting to gas, and still haven't figured out how to reach a certain temperature. So a lot of times I manage to burn my food. Today was no different. I could tell the oil was getting hot, so I put in some kimchi and pivoted to get my diced garlic. When I turned back around flames were leaping out of the pot.

I've heard of studies that found that women react better in emergency situations than men. I'll let you be the judge of that.

The first thought that went through my mind was "water." I quickly decided against that, because the last thing I wanted was flaming oil flying through the kitchen. So the next idea was "air." I removed the pot from the burner and began furiously blowing the flames out, and within five seconds they were gone. No singed eyebrows.

Despite the quick response, I was enveloped in smoke. Let me try my own stream of consciousness approach here. I'll even use the italics. smoke detector-sprinkler system...water-logged tv's and computers exploding... the furious neighbors "개똥아" "바보멍청이?" millions of dollars worth of damage. I leapt into action. A lot of people use that phrase figuratively, but I use it with all of the physical literality it can possibly manifest. I did leap. Then I sprinted to the windows and threw them open and drew the curtains to allow for the maximum amount of smoke movement. Bear in mind that all of the lights in my apartment are on, and I'm parading in front of the window, shirtless. Bear that in mind, because trust me, I was definitely bearing it in mind every nanosecond I was there.

I ran back to the kitchen and turned on the fan. Then I ran back into my bedroom, past the open windows, and grabbed the first shirt I could find, which was my Puma tee, which explains why I'm coordinated so well today.

I had a rack of clothes drying (now a very smelly rack of clothes) and grabbed a towel off of it to fan the smoke towards the windows.

Turns out the smoke detector did not go off. Turns out the sprinkler system didn't activate.

I gathered up my courage and proceeded to make my kimchi chiggae. Turns out that the dish was pretty good; while one would never recognize it as kimchi chiggae, one would acknowledge it as a very tasty watery kimchi bokkeum.

Turns out I should invest in an apron.

who's a rockstar now?

2007-08-07T13:38:00.000+09:00

I just went to the Samsung website (had a heck of a time trying to find it in English) and downloaded everything that had to do with the YP-K5, so I had better be able to charge my mp3 player on my notebook now. Which is a relief, because life without music is just... well, it just kinda sucks.

not doing much now, waiting for my mp3 player to charge, again. I think I've written everybody back that I'm supposed to write back. In addition, asked my mother for some recipes. Oh, made some 멸치 (myulchee) last night. One was 고추장 멸치 (kkochujang myulchee), and the other was "김모니카" 멸치 ("Monica" myulchee... i.e. I didn't know what I was doing but made up my own recipe). Both turned out surprisingly tasty.

Oh yes, I did my hair this morning. I've about mastered my hairdryer (I can attach different extensions on it, like a brush, a few roller brushes, etc.). But today it wasn't 8000 degrees, so I did my hair, dressed up, wore heels (again!) and am en route to the store to do some shopping. Which is why I have to charge my mp3 player. Which is why I'm sitting here blogging right now even though I don't have anything to blog about. Check that. I did have some things to write about, but I've forgotten them.

So, I could just sit here and try to remember what they were, or I could do something productive. Like browsing some online clothes stores. I'm opting for the latter.

Random Thoughts

2007-08-05T13:54:00.000+09:00

I'm just hanging out in the PC bang right now, waiting for my mp3 player to charge. As soon as school starts again I'm going to download the right program onto my computer so I can charge my mp3 on my notebook, instead of heading over to the PC bang every day. So, I thought I'd blog a few thoughts.

So far during my vacation I haven't accomplished much. I've gone through my Korean-English dictionary to find choice phrases for ajashis who push me on the subway, as well as some general statements and questions that I may need to know in emergency situations: "where did you get those shoes? and what about the earrings?" or "No, thank you, I'm not interested; you're ugly." I've looked through my guidebook and found some places to visit (Namhan sanseong is just minutes away from me, on the outskirts of Seongnamsi! Score!). I do kinda miss some of the kids. Just a few. And I miss hearing "teacha!" (think Short Round in Temple of Doom). They sound so cute when they say that.

Today I fully realized my 한국여자-hood and wore heels to run my errands. yup. In addition, I actually looked like everybody else by texting people on the subway. uh-huh. All I have to do now is fix my hair and I'll be in business.

I've always kind of wondered how I appear to Koreans. I know that Americans think of me as non-white (I actually had somebody ask if I'm Mexican -- weird), and apparently Koreans think of me as non-Korean. Most of my coworkers didn't recognize me as part-Korean. Wow. Even though everybody's so nice (except subway ajashi!), I still feel like an outsider. Can't be helped. I guess I belong in the U.S. just as well as anywhere else. Just stick with the coasts.

I've got more to write, but life calls. take it chill,

mo

Innocence lost

2007-08-04T15:58:00.000+09:00

This story is not for the faint-hearted.

So far, Korea has been all glitz and glamour. It's one of the most cosmopolitan places I've been to. Nearly everybody is in shape and dresses great (clothes are so cute here!). Stores belt out K-pop or Top 40, and K-dramas rock. Bright lights of every color make midnight look like noon. I've never felt unsafe (except when crossing the street). But yesterday, I had a shocking reality check.

Despite the fact that I'm half-Korean, despite the stories my mom told me, I, in all of my western whiteness, could not have been more ill-prepared for what I experienced if I had grown up in a hermitage.

Thursday we headed out to Moran station to get my mobile. We went to three different vendors. The second vendor had a really great deal, but...the salesman at the third vendor was cute. So let's guess which one I went with. Actually, my Korean side (built-in love of money) also played a part: although more expensive initially, the third vendor offered more security in case I go over my minutes, which I'm prone to do. nuff said. I got my phone and noticed an outdoors shop, but didn't go in because I really wanted to go home and take a nap.

Yesterday I headed back out to Moran station to check out the store. Yeah, I got the usual ajashi push at the subway, but I wasn't in a bad mood so I didn't shove him back. But one of these days... About ten feet from the store door, the sunny sky suddenly began to pelt down rain, and I hurried in (curse me for taking sunglasses instead of an umbrella! I actually looked at my umbrella before leaving home, and decided I wouldn't need it). As usual, the salesman was smothering, and I really wish I knew enough Korean to say "Do you want to leave me alone, or do you want me to walk out?" Instead I just stopped and stared at him and he got the message. They didn't have what I wanted, but I didn't want to venture back out in the rain (curse me again for leaving my umbrella!), so I just hung out for a bit longer. I finally got sick of waiting and left, and luckily the rain began to die down just as I walked out the door.

The rain stopped just as suddenly as it had started, so I looked around some more. Moran has a "five day" market, which means that every five days (on days that end in "4" and "9"), the markets open up. This is reminiscent of the olden golden days when markets only opened periodically since transportation and communication were slow. Although I didn't know where the market was, I saw some open air shops that looked like a market, so I headed there to check it out.

I expected something like Namdaemun shijang, where I can find clothes, household items, and cheap fruits and veggies. Turns out, I didn't walk into a shijang, I walked into a live meat market. Basically a butcher shop. The first 10 feet were ok. Roosters, goats. Not gonna stop me from eating chicken. But then came the dogs.

I know that some Koreans eat dog. I know that Korea has been rural, and for the first 60 years of the century, desperately destitute. I know that when all the options are gone, people have to do some things that they may not do under normal conditions. I also know that often, "undesirable parts," when a country achieves prosperity, suddenly transform into "delicacies." Think escargot in France: people could not have possibly eaten that because they wanted to, but now it's high-dollar, or franc or euro or whatever.

Until yesterday, I was also open to eating dog meat. That sounds really gross, but you have to understand where I'm coming from. The dogs that people eat are not pets. They are specifically bred to be food. They actually look more like coyotes than dogs. So people aren't taking German shepherds and terriers and throwing them into the crockpot. ...Although I wouldn't mind so much chihuahuas and poodles. haha, make the world a better place... But also, growing up in the U.S., I've always been subjected to "eeew, how can you eat that?" when I describe Korean food (squid, seaweed, etc.). To which I've always wanted to reply (but wisely held my tongue) "shut up you uncultured pedantic cracker." Because of this response I've always gotten, I've made it a point to be open to other foods, no matter how much the idea grosses me out. Worst-case scenario about food: something gross goes into your body, and it comes out as something equally as gross. capisce?

Yesterday changed my mind. My mind immediately registered why I was seeing dogs penned up in a meat market. They just laid there, as if they knew their fate. Only one was sitting up and moving around, like it refused to give in. The worst part was glancing down at the ground and meeting three dead dogs lying in a pool of blood. I was in shock. I was numb. I couldn't stand to watch, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight. I just kept walking and staring.

Until a vendor approached me and motioned me to check out his wares. Reflecting on the situation, it now occurs to me that I gave him a very shocked and disgusted look, and I know that for a fleeting tenth-of-a-second the half-formed thought (think Faulkner stream of consciousness) that I can only translate into, "what? are you going to kill and eat me, too?" sped through my mind. Totally illogical, to jump from eating dogs to cannibalism, but my trite justifications: one, my mind was responding in shock, and two, in my western mind it's not a far jump from eating a "pet" to eating a human. I'm ashamed of my lack of reason and my response, but culture is culture and I can only do so much to reeducate myself.

In a split second after that, I realized that I was either going to get sick or start crying if I didn't escape, pronto. I hurried into an alley and found my way back to the main street, and to the station. I felt dirty and disgusted, and tired and down.

Which only offers two solutions: 1) drinks with friends or 2) shopping. It was only 4 p.m., so I opted for the latter. Headed to Migeum station to check out 2001 Outlet, which is an oasis of affordability in Korea's high-cost society. *sigh of relief* It's also an oasis of bright lights and sterility and modernity, after what I had experienced just minutes before. *sigh of relief* People my age, sporting Lacoste and Converses...it was a welcome sight.

Back at home, it was both ironic and healing to hear pet dogs playing and barking in the courtyard below my apartment.

A Taste of Home

2007-07-23T20:19:00.000+09:00

I know exactly what that means.

Today started out like any other day. Well, a few exceptions: I bought an alarm clock yesterday, which is a good thing because I forgot to charge my mp3 player, so I had a different sound wake me up; I snoozed a bit longer than usual, and I actually wasn't drenched in sweat once I got to work. But other than that, it was like any other day.

For lunch I enjoyed a tantalizing bowl of 비빔밥 (bibimbap, or mixed rice). I have been LOVING the food here. Korean food is awesome; it's such a delectable mixture of spices and flavors and well-being all rolled into one. And, for me, usually rolled into under five G won.

Today, 수정 gave me a ride home. She was headed to Seohyun station to pick up her mother, so she offered, and I accepted. She also showed me a bus stop closer to my flat than the one I had been using, which is wonderful, because that means that I'll sweat out exactly one pint of fluid less than usual. yay.

It was nice sitting at home at 4 p.m., and knowing that work doesn't start until 8:30 a.m. That's a wonderful feeling. It's also kind of a boring feeling, so I turned on the tv to watch some Korean kids' shows, which I think is the dorkiest way of learning Korean possible (no, kids shows are cool when you're little. Watch them when you're older, though, and you think, "What was wrong with me?"). But everything was ok until a commercial came up for chocolate-covered chex mix.

Craving. I'm not talking about a little, "mmm...that sounds good" craving. I'm talkin, "pregnant woman on a rampage" craving. I tried to fight it, but resistance was futile. I got up, put on my shoes, and booked it for Lotte Mart. Once there, the thought of peanut butter & jelly crossed my mind. Mistake. I knew that if I didn't buy peanut butter, jelly, and cereal, I would probably sock the next person who muttered "well-being" within the range of my hearing.

I ended up spending more than $15 on peanut butter, jelly, sandwich bread and milk. Not even a gallon of milk. That's the worst thing about Korea so far. Everything, especially Western food and meat, two of the things I'm most used to, is so EXPENSIVE.

But I got home and feasted, FEASTED, F-E-A-S-T-E-D on a pbj sandwich and chocolate frosted flakes. It was one of the best feelings in the world, eating that. In fact, I'm going to go back home and have some pbj apricots. That sounds really tasty.

Message to Kansans: count your blessings

2007-07-18T19:42:00.001+09:00

7:42 p.m., 18 july 2007

So, today was the year-end faculty luncheon. Classes were held in the morning, and all the teachers headed out that afternoon for our meal. Around 11 a.m., rumors on where we were eating began to circulate: a beef restaurant. I haven't gotten any beef so far (besides a burger), so I didn't know the significance, but I witnessed the excitement emanating from my fellow teachers.

Myong-Soo drove us to the restaurant, where 40 teachers crammed into the banquet hall. The ones that couldn't fit in the elbow-to-elbow room went into another room (we went into this room after we ate & it was much nicer; there was a hole in the floor so one could eat with one's legs hanging down instead of cross-legged knee-to-knee with one's neighbor). Young-ji had warned me that the restaurant is one where people sit on the floor, so I knew that I would be removing my shoes; therefore I brought socks. Unfortunately, the weight/room restriction for my luggage hadn't allowed me to bring a wide selection of shoes, and I felt uber-lame wearing socks with flip-flops. Being me, instead of letting people view it in private and think that I had the fashion sense of an adolescent gorilla, I boldly pointed them out & let my coworkers laugh at me.

En route Young-ji & Suk-nam invited me for a picnic in Suwon, which I gladly accepted. Then we started discussing a potential bike ride, which Young-ji immediately turned down. I soon found out why. Apparently Suk-nam has a habit of riding to places like Jamshil, which is about an hour away. I know that if I ever hit up steriods and can actually make it there, I won't make it back. Young-ji had gone with Suk-nam once, and that had been it. Suk-nam also likes to hike, so aside from the fact that she gets up at 6 am to do it, we might go for a hike someday.

Back to the food. mmm mmm mmm mmmm... We actually didn't even eat any rice. But we pretty much consumed every other Korean dish known to mankind. There was kong, anchovies, pyogot bossut, buetchingae, mul nangmyun, and a whole lotta dishes that I don't know the names of but enjoyed. And the beef... they brought out three types of raw beef and we fried them on the woks inset into the table. I found out why everybody had been so excited about beef: two pieces is going to do about $20 damage. At that rate, I think the moment I get back to the States I'm going to hunker down to a juicy steak, with meatballs and bulgogi on the side.

At lunch they also brought out Hite, but I knew better and stuck with the sidah (clear soda).

After lunch Young-ji & I went to Shinhan bank to open up an account. Shinhan is the place to go, as it is one of the few banks that gives bankcards to foreigners. Get this: my bankcard is a Manchester United card. Park Ji-Sung is the miracle man in Korea.

I'm going to jet. Gotta go pick up a hair dryer.

9:40 p.m. 16 July 2007

2007-07-17T18:16:00.000+09:00

Ok - confession. (That's a bad way to start, huh?) Well last night I was picking up water and coffee for today & I spotted a "Hite Stout." Now I'm a sucker for Guinness, but since it's uber-expensive, I've maintained by willpower (if not my composure) & refrained from purchasing. Last night, though, I decided to experiment, & I got the Hite Stout. haha, I'm giggling as I write this. Instead of a stout, it was like Bud Light mixed with a Pilsner. *shudder* Black & tans are stouter than that "stout."

Which introduces my next observation. Ready?
4) Koreans like to drink, but they don't. Seriously, if you can drink Hite, you've seriously got to seek treatment because you're addicted. I just used the word "seriously" twice in the same sentence. dang. But at the same time, Koreans don't drink. After two school lunches, I've realized that Koreans don't drink with their meals. I can down a few 8-oz. glasses of water with my meal, but the fact that cups at restaurants are smaller than sippy-cups indicates some traumatic dehydration. Today I dined with the head of the language department (oh, fish for lunch! yes!) & when I got up to fill my thimble of water, I got some for her, too (definitely going for points here, haha). I brought it back & handed it to her & her face just read "이고머야?" or in common American Jack-Blackian vernacular, "What the hey, bro?" But she was gracious & took a sip at the end of her meal. Kind of reminds me of cats -- they eat & drink at seperate times. But when I think about it my mom never drinks -- we always had to remind her to finish her water.

Today in class I saw a girl that looks so much like Kari (my cousin) when she was younger. It was a bit odd, but cool.

Trends in school:

like any other school, boys are ornery
in class girls will give me really shy smiles but in the halls or the office they'll come up to me and say in English "hi" and giggle & scurry away. They'll always come in pairs or 3's and huddle up together when they run away as if it's going to absolve their embarrassment. It's cute & funny.

There's one boy in one of the classes -- I can't remember his name, but he's #37. After the introduction I fielded questions, & one of the kiddos had written, "Do you like #37?" I asked Suknam, my co teacher, who #37 was, & she pointed him out & said he's one of the naughty boys. I read the question out loud & he had a surprised look on his face. Either somebody had written the question without his knowledge or he had written the question but hadn't expected me to read it. Play ball! I said, "Yes, I like #37" & he did the cutest thing: he covered his face with his hands like a little girl and shook his head. Later in the library we made eye contact & I smiled at him & he did it again. Cracked me up.

After a few classes, the students' questions were pretty predictable: do you have a boyfriend? are you married? what is your ideal type? (I avoided the last question for the most part but once I answered, "hot" & the girls started giggling.) what is your blood type? (huh? I still don't understand why they'd care or how they ever came up with that question.) And a lot of favorites: actors, singers, colors, movies, books, food, etc. My favorites were "Do you like ...?" or "Do you think ... is handsome?" & I'd have to answer yes no matter what I really thought.

Tonight I caught the subway for the first time. The problem wasn't riding the subway so much as getting on. I had to search around for a ticket machine & when I found it it wouldn't take 5000W. So I had to get 1000W bills & it wouldn't take those either. So I had to use change. Then, on the train platform, I realized I had lost my umbrella. Great. Monsoon season, & no umbrella. Who's up for runny make-up?

I met Becky & Trey & Markos at Jamshil station. I didn't expect them to still be waiting since I was an hour late, but they were. I must have walked right by them looking for a payphone which, in a land of homogeneity, is really difficult to do: one white man, an Indian-Korean and a Latino-Korean (or maybe Becky's Italian, lol). We got some TGI Fridays (my first burger in Korea!) and had some cake to celebrate Mark's birthday.

That's about it. Tomorrow I may head to Yatap -- I think I remember Jonathan mentioning something there -- hopefully shopping.

Oh, more observations:

5) Hand-holding: my mom had mentioned this, so it wasn't too weird to see two girls (or even women) holding hands, but I'll admit it was a bit of a shock to see two boys holding hands, in a middle school of all places.

6) Bathrooms: I don't even know where to begin. First, I noticed that instead of toilets, there are urinal type deals in the floor. I asked Young-ji how to use that sort of toilet & she did the easy thing -- she took me to the ground floor bathroom where there was a normal, Western, sit-down toilet. But I would like to learn how to use the floor-urinals in case of emergency. There is no toilet paper in the stalls. Apparently people provide their own. Instead of anti-bacterial liquid/foam soap, there is bar soap. Hopefully antibacterial?

The bathroom topic reminded me. Today I officially became a part of the team at Seohyun Middle School. After lunch, I joined my fellow teachers in the bathroom for the daily "Post-dinner toothbrushing ritual." Makes sense, because Korean food is smelly, but I'm having trouble reconciling my germophobia to brushing teeth in a public bathroom that has all manner of "poop germs" infiltrating my toothpaste. (Yeah, I'm the person who icks out at the idea of bringing a drink into the bathroom.) Check that -- a public bathroom which may or may not have antibacterial soap.

[p.s. I'm sitting in the PC bang right now typing away, and it's so funny. Out of all the words the Korean guys are saying, I can pick up "아이스" and "새키야" and "평신" and "beep beep beep" (I think they're playing shooting games and the "beep beep beep" is the sound they make when shooting. haha)]

Korea: days 1-5

2007-07-15T19:26:00.000+09:00

I'm sitting in a smoky PC bang right now, trying to navigate my way through a website that is written in Korean. I'm actually pretty surprised that it's written in Korean; I suppose in all of my sheltered American naivete, I expected it to be in English. dang

Well, the night before I left Al gave me a journal to document my time in, so I'm just going to copy it word for word. That way everybody can see what's going through my head when it happens. So read and enjoy.

5 p.m. CT; 11 July 2007

When Al gave this to me she told me that she would read it when I return. So I suppose I'll just get started.

I'm currently on a Boeing 777 from Dallas to Tokyo. It looks like we've been on the plane for about 5 hours right now -- it's 5:05 -- and we're soaring over the Bering Sea.

This is a bit awkward. I'm so accustomed to typing that writing is kind of difficult.

I've got the window seat, & it's quite pleasant. Right now all I can see are clouds, but the view over the States was beautiful. We were flying over Idaho, I think, and (I'm opening a watermelon jolly rancher - yummy!) it was amazing to look over foothills and mountains that look like insignificant bumps and knowing that the blue puddles among them are really lakes. The most interesting sight, though, was when we went over some fields -- this is not related to the fact that we've been in Kansas for the past 10 years! But from above it looked like abstract art, a pastel work: tawny yellow, browns, burnt orange, and greens, all arrayed in a pattern of circles inset into squares. Some of the circles even looked black. [here I have a really nice picture; step aside, picasso!]

There are two seats in our partial row and my row partner is a bit...what should I say...shortsighted. I was watching Disturbia (it's a good movie!) & wasn't too bothered because the movie had already climaxed, but he laid his elbow right on top of my screen remote & blasted the volume. (We're currently at 34,000 feet & -59F -- chilly! I just lifted my blind and there is an ice crystal formed on the INSIDE of the outer window. I hope that's not a bad thing...) But other than that he's had his arm on my side of the rail. I feel so juvenile, like when Austin & I used to draw the line down the middle of the back seat during road trips. But it's already cramped enough without having to lean away from the armrest just so you don't have arm hairs brushing up against you. Gross. I'll just describe him & then that'll be the end of it. He's about maybe middle-aged, with gray hair & is either Middle Eastern or Central Asian. Other than the elbow over the armrest he seems like a nice guy. Like I said, just a bit short-sighted.

I got two hours of sleep last night & slept a bit on the way to Dallas, but I just can't go to sleep now. dang.

Still just clouds. I wish it was clear -- then I could see some crabbing vessels from Deadliest Catch. haha

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comes on in 10 minutes, so it looks like that's what I'll spend my next two hours doing. "Are we done yet?" is on channel 1, but I don't know what that's about.

I brough my LSAT prep book on board but haven't gotten past a few paragraphs. I'm going to take the test again. Yeah. I know. But I can't help myself. All I need is a 170 & I'll be satisfied. But if I don't get that on this go-around, I'll just embrace mediocrity & revel in it. heehee

7:20 p.m. CT; same day

We just had supper. It's only 7 o'clock but the cabin is dimly lit and I'm so tired that it feels like nighttime until I open the blind & realize that it's broad daylight outside (we're just west of Alaska & it's 4 o'clock local time. We're approaching the international date line, where it suddenly changes from today to tomorrow). But hanging out with Jon and Athena so much lately, I ordered a coffee because that's our nightly ritual. That little action itself reminded me of them and I wish I was able to talk to them right now as I would drink my coffee on the plane, and they'd drink at Dunn's or Starbucks or maybe Aida's. Today I took my coffee black as usual, but I taste a hint of nostalgia...God, I'm getting so poetic -- what's wrong with me?

The clouds beneath us are so flat on top I can't help but wonder whether we're floating above a large ice pack. I think we're about 1/2way thru the flight. :)

1 a.m. CT; same day

First impressions of Japan - Narito Airport, Tokyo

Probably the best part of the trip was when we took a sharp bank ot the port (my side) & simultaneously began a steep descent. (I'm writing this & reflecting on the irony that after a 13-hour flight, I'm sitting down writing in a journal). We had been between two strata of clouds & the waves had been miniscule, but when we began the descent it looked like we'd land right into the ocean. (I just heard two ajummas speaking Korean & you can't imagine what a relief it is -- I'm almost home!) Yet, despite thefact that we were considerably closer to sea level than before, we were still above some clouds!

I was momentarily distracted by the flight tracker on the screen but turned back to the window just in time to see the waves lapping onto the shore. That was a beautiful moment -- it's just like you'd imagine waves rolling onto Japan. In a split second we flew into a wall of clouds -- thick, so thick I couldn't see the wingtip at times, but occassionally I could see through clouds, and this is one of the greenest countries in the world -- like on par with Ireland. But maybe it's just because it's monsoon season; I don't know.

At this point I'm sitting in gate 83, which I really hope is the right gate, especially after hearing people speak Korean. I've gotten about 3 hours of sleep in two days, I haven't showered in nearly 24 hours, I've eaten 3 meals in the last 20 hours, I've watched 3 movies, read 10 pages of a book, consumed two jolly ranchers & wiped my glasses once. Now I'm going to the bathroom to freshen up -- I'd put a pile of crap to shame.

This has got to be the hottest airport in human history. I'm sure it's at least 80F. I feel like the sweaty American. gross. But it looks like nobody else has this problem... :( I've put in my contacts & feel like they've melded into my eyeballs. I think I just made up that word -- like melted & welded. or maybe it's an established word I'm trying to take credit for. hmmm...

I've come to the conclusion that Japanese and Koreans are pretty much the same. I think I'd get disowned by the ROK and DPRK, but sitting here in Tokyo (I don't want to wait at the gate so I'm sitting on my luggage next to a column in the terminal) I'm finding it difficult to distinguish between them. I think the only difference is that our food is better and their government is [crappier]. haha I've found my way back into the good graces of the whole Korean population.

And there are people wearing suits! It's way too hot for suits!!

And I keep seeing women running around in skinny jeans. The thing about skinny jeans -- the ultimate Catch-22 -- is that you have to be skinny to wear them. If you have more than 3 cubic inches of fat on your thighs you immediately transform skinny jeans into fat jeans. I tried getting some before I came out here but couldn't bring myself to do it because no matter how decent my calves looked, my thighs looked like a hippo in a leotard. And that can never be rationalized into being attractive. My grandmother gave my mom very practical advice when she was a girl: don't gamble and don't get in debt over your head. My mom passed that wisdom onto me, & she added even more important advice: never wear things that are too small because they make you look bigger. Thus: no skinny jeans unless I go under the knife. haha

They're going to start boarding soon. Yay! Hopefully they believe in air conditioning the plane. Actually it's not so hot anymore. Perhaps it was hot before because I was sitting right next to a group of Korean boys who were using their notebooks (most likely playing Starcraft).

Good news. In 5-6 hours what was possible the longest day of my life will be drawing to a close. But before that I'll be returning to this to record my return to Korea after 23 years.

There's a man standing next to me with a Louis Vuitton bag. Only in Asia...

In line to board I was behind a pretty cute guy. He had on Armani cologne. Here's how we know we're in NE Asia: amidst this hotness & great scent I caught a faint whiff of fish. Yes, he was carrying a box of frozen dried fish. How does this go through customs?

When I got on two girls that are sitting next to me spoke to me in English. It's kind of funny that they knew off the bat that's I'm American and their English was so good I thought they were Californians. But they're Korean citizens.

Seohyun-gu, Bundang-dong, Seongnam-shi, Gyeonggi-do, ROK

Midnight; 14 July 2007

How's that for a location? Good thing I didn't include my building address.

Ok, so I've skipped a few days, but I'll try to include everything in between. Obviously I was too tired to write when I arrived in Korea, so here's the update.

When we disembarked -- no, let's go back. It had been cloudy in Japan, but the skies were clear over Korea. It was beautiful seeing the western islands -- my first view of Korea that I can remember. I had slept a bit on the plane & I'm so glad that I woke up in time to see Korea from the air.

Now -- when we disembarked, I was a bit worried about customs, immigration, & my taxi ride to Seongnam-shi. But it all went smoothly. I got a cart ( they cost 3000 W I think but I didn't pay because 1) it was in Korean so I wasn't sure it even cost anything 2) I hadn't exchanged any $ yet & 3) I didn't know where to pay. Actually, before this I went thru immigration, & saw the guy stamp my passport. Yay! It's been 12 years (1/2 my life!) since I've taken an international flight, & that was when I was a kid, so I really didn't know what to expect. But it turned out all right.

I met the driver after going through customs. He had a sign. Awesome. I can finally say that I was the person for whom the guy with the sign was waiting. He loaded my stuff in the cab (this thing was great - the fare maching had GPS). It was an hour long drive. I stayed awake long enough to watch Seoul roll by...and roll...and roll, but I fell asleep soon after. And the Han River (known as the "Han-gong River" to the same people who say "ATM machine") is mighty indeed. Puts the Potomac from Lincoln Memorial to Arlingon (at least a 20 minute stroll) to shame.

One more thing about the taxi drive. On the way we were either stopped in a random roadblock or the driver was speeding. I don't know what the driver said to the cop, but I kept hearing 외국인 (waygoogin or foreigner) & I think he convinced the cop to let him go or the foreigner would get a bad impression of Korea.

Young-ji met us at the apartment (actually, an officetel). Talking with her on the phone, she sounded like my 자근이모, but not so much in person. She's an English teacher (I'm known as a "Native English teacher"), about 29, about mom's height, and really nice.

My flat is on the 17th floor. OK, first, the building. 24 floors, and the second one is banks, a Bennigans, a Happy Time bar, and other businesses. Above and below are te apartments, which are either occupied by tenants as homes or businesses. My neighbor on the right is a spa; my neighbor on the left is a skin care business.

Back to my flat. I love this. To enter, I can either use a key or punch in my code. When I have visitors I can see their pretty smiling faces on the screen & either let them in, or press what I call the "panic button," which I imagine will summon the police, swat team, the KCIA & the Ghostbusters.

The place was a dump. There were yellow sticky greasy splatters all over the kitchen & enough hair in the shower drain to evoke jealousy from the creepy ladies in the Grudge, Dark Water, Pone, or any other Asian movie that has a scary hair scene. So here's the situation: I've been here since Thursday night at 11:30 (two days & 1/2 hour) & in those two days, I've worked 8.5 hours, slept 16 hours, grocery shopped for 2.5 hours, used the internet for 2 hours, walked around for 3 hours, ate/supped for 2-3 hours & cleaned for 9 hours.

Thursday night I showered so I wouldn't have to Friday morning. I set my alarm for 7 a.m., as Young-ji was picking me up at 8 to go with me to school. I ended up getting into bed around midnight. Then, I woke up at 6. Mathematically speaking, that's Impossible. Jet lag + sleep deprivation DNE waking up at 6. But I couldn't sleep so I just decided to get up. I got ready quickly and decided to take a short stroll. Yay for the mini-mart!

Young-ji & I took the bus to school. The first few periods I didn't have class so I put together my "introductory speech" and met some of the other staff. The teachers are really nice. Including Young-ji, there are seven English teachers, all women. I was surprised when I saw them -- I think 5/7 are under 35.

Classes were rough. Monday is the last day of class & students know that their grades have already been submitted, so they were pretty rowdy.

I wasn't sure how teachers do lunch -- I assumed they might go out & eat. Much better: the school provides lunch. Friday was seaweed soup. rice, kimchi, some greens that were really tasty, & fried squid. My first meal in Korea was awesome.

Tally for day 1 - Gifts from coworkers

3 Twix

2 Milky Ways

1 yogurt drink

1 Welch's grape juice

1 orange juice

1 chocopie

1 ttuk

I like my coworkers. :)

Oh, and there's this really hot teacher. I think he may be a P.E. teacher. Although the Home Economics teachers are male...even better - they can take care of themselves.

After school Young-ji & I went to a bookstore to find some material for summer camp. Then on to Samsung Plaza food court for my 비빔넹면 (bibimnangmyun). So far, my culinary experience in Korea has been excellent.

Last night I tackled the bathroom sink, toilet, and creepy-Asian-lady-hair shower.

This morning was early again -- 7 am. Another stroll, then back to cleaning. I vacuumed, & scrubbed the floor. Rearrange the furniture, wipe the tables & couch and then...the kitchen. Scrub, scrub, scrub & uh-oh, the faucet doesn't work. So back and forth between the bathroom & the kitchen to rinse out the towel.

I met Young-ji for lunch to discuss summer camp (the other teachers have class Saturday mornings, but I'm HOME FREE!) We went to "Pasta & Pizza" where I had a better white sauce pasta than any place I've been to in the States.

Oh wait, backtrack: on my walk today I discovered (drum roll) a Dunkin' Donuts. Get this: in the United States I have to drive/fly for hours to eat Dunkin' Donuts; in Korea I walk two blocks & Voila! So...Bismarcks are yummy.

Today was my western day. In addition to Dunkin' Donuts & pasta, after lunch we stopped by a coffee shop where I had mocha iced coffee. (When Koreans go out it's a multiple stop affair. The gives people the opportunity to split costs & leave at opportune moments instead of in the middle of an outing. People rarely sit around a restaurant talking -- they go grab coffee or juice or drinks for that.)

Back to cleaning the kitchen. It's almost finished. I just have to clean the rice cooker & microwave, clear the counter, & clean the outside of the washing maching. Other than that, clean the bathroom and FINIS.

Tonight I headed down to "Times Square" & visited my first PC bang. I didn't know what to do so after a short conversation the lady took me to the computer. Conversation:

Me: 미국사람입니다 (I'm an American)

Owner: 인떠내뜨? (Internet?)

Me: 네 (Yes)

When I left the PC bang there was a large crowd gathered in the middle of the square. I walked towards it to see what was going on & two guys were boxing. Like with gloves. One guy was really good & the other guy sucked. It was kinda fun to watch.

Back in the apartment -- I left the light off. I feel really safe here. The neighborhood is fast and urban, but very bougie & safe. And the idea that I'm living in a quiet apartment surrounded by people is reassuring (although it's quiet, I can occassionally hear something, so I know people could hear me screaming).

There's an apartment building across the courtyard & it's kind of fun to people-watch. One lady hula-hooped non-stop for maybe 4 minutes. That takes talent. But at the same time, it's disconcerting that I'm watching people across a courtyard. I feel comfortable changing or dressing with the window open because I know that nobody's watching. The hula-hoop lady probably thinks the same thing. haha

Off to bed soon, but before that, some observations:

1) I won't be too miserable food-wise. When I get sick of Korean food, I can have Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese or Italian. Or Pizza Hut, Papa Johns, McDonalds, Subway, Starbucks, Baskin Robbins, Krispy Kreme, KFC, or more Dunkin' Donuts.

2) Koreans have a love affair with food & drink but it doesn't show. Restaurants open early & close late, there's a fried food stand on every corner, and Koreans consume more soju than rice, but they're for the most part skinny. I wouldn't consider myself overly heavy, but compared to the women -- and men! -- I'm definitely on the large side. :(

3) Korean women have remarkable ankles. I have traipsed across some of the roughest sidewalks known to humankind -- uneven, & steep when approaching a street -- one day in heels, and though I see women in heels all the time (heels go with everything: suits, shorts, warm-ups) I have yet to see one with an ankle brace. Mad skillz