West Side story, 2 Deaths and a Mountain

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

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

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

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

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

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.