An Asian Journal

Still Here

2010-12-05T11:26:00.000+09:00

It's long since I have written but I once again take the thing out and dust it off. I recently returned home from a visit to the US, my second since coming to Korea, and my reaction to that journey seems to require some comment, if only as a way-point for my own personal reference. This blog, after all, has been if anything a record of dis-orientation, beginning with my first dizzying days in a foreign land, progressing through my gradual (and sometimes difficult) acclimatisation, and even, though only referred to by the absence of any post whatsoever, to a level of comfort where further comment seemed either completely unnecessary or merely trivial. I have always allowed myself the illusion that I am writing for myself alone which might excuse to some extent the content if not the tone of these missives.

To come to the point, or a point, my recent trip home was not much fun. I enjoyed seeing my family and friends and I ate enough melted cheese and fried potatoes to regain about 10 pounds of hard lost fat but overall it was just not a satisfying experience. I realized at some point that I had been expecting a vacation and that I had had failed for the simple reason that one cannot take a much-needed vacation in one's own hometown. It is not a get-away, it is not a relaxing retreat. It is home. And even though I have been away from the place for quite a while and the people and place have changed significantly, it is still at the end of the day my hometown. And as the song says: "Nothing brings you down like your hometown."

Now perhaps I am doing it wrong. I initially chose Thanksgiving as an opportunity to see as many family members as possible at one gathering. Now, with my cousins all marrying and going everywhere, the gatherings are becoming more of a drive-through affair than an all-day affair. Certainly there is no strong motivation to see me, and I am not hurt about that. We all have our own lives now. Perhaps it is just as effective to keep in touch over Facebook and leave it at that. I had felt that there was some obligation on my part to be physically present periodically but this may not be the case. Reassessment. Now my mother is another story and as the primary reason that I return each year she should be addressed separately. She does require my physical presence and I require hers and for that reason some annual journey is required. And there are my two grandfathers, to whom every visit is a gift granted by time. But it is my current speculation that the next meeting will not be at Thanksgiving.

One problem with November in Illinois however is the weather. I saw the sun for about three hours in the week I was there. It is a cloudy depressing place in late fall when all the leaves have fallen and all you can see for miles is grey and mud. And, I hate to say it, but I have started to become sensitized to what I might describe as culture of lazy obesity and waste, TV-addicted couch potatoes complaining at the drive-up windows of the Taco Bell. I was shocked to see what would have never shocked me before I left, a huge woman in an electric wheelchair dragging a grocery cart through the "frozen-sin" section of the Shop-N-Save, too fat to reach the donuts. It would simply be impossible where I live now for that woman to exist. And I have a right to be critical, yes I do, because that was, to some extent, ME.

And I am none too happy about discovering this sense of overall dissatisfaction with the stereotypic Mid-westerner (who is, I'm sorry, obese). It is as if I woke up and didn't like who I was and decided to change and become different and, once I had, saw myself as I was before and realized that I in some way missed that person. I miss my beer-driven mediocrity. I can still appreciate the feeling of a summer breeze drying the condensation from a can of Busch pulled directly from a cooler full of ice. I chuckle to remember the calls through a creaky screen door to "light the other grill," the quintessential and uniquely Mid-western American problem: Too Much Meat. And I miss the stupefying simplicity of that life, the lack of competition (driven by an appalling and culture-wide sense of entitlement), the glacial pace, the contentment with cultural objects deemed classic merely because they were on the radio twenty years ago. All of this would seem, looking from the other side of my brain, the one I would suppose has become "urbanized" if that is an accurate diagnosis, to be disturbingly quaint at best and abjectly hopeless at worst.

So while I was at the aforementioned supermarket on my first day back I had a bit of a panic attack at the sight of everyday hometown humanity and the only word on my mind was "Escape." At that moment I actually wanted more than anything to go back to the airport. We left what few things I had gathered (I was looking for some small "American" gifts which, note, do not exist) and went back out to the grey parking lot. I can laugh about it now but there was one vivid instant where I didn't know who I was.

The Most Breathtaking Country

2010-07-15T11:33:00.003+09:00

I have been living and working here in Korea for two years now so I feel qualified to make some observations on the subject. Bear in mind reading this that I am anything but a dispassionate observer. I love this place, this culture, and these people. Also, admittedly, my experience of other cultures with which to compare it is rather limited. Nevertheless, I am a fan and I tend to beat the drum and the observation I have chosen to make is probably universal regardless. Now I know Korea isn't perfect and there are a lot of entrenched attitudes that should change. But I think that there is a lot more positive about this place than most expats I talk to give it credit for. For one thing, living in a place like Korea gives you an opportunity to learn a new way of thinking.

For instance, in talking about Korean cities, some people complain about the stink. I will admit that on a hot summer day in Busan sometimes you get a whiff of something coming out of a sewer grate that feels like a punch in the gut. But I love the other smells: the fruit and vegetable markets early in the morning when the stands are freshly rainbow stocked with produce, dried peppers and piles of pungent aromatic herbs. The pine woods along the singing brooks on Geumjangsan when the sun hits hard the west side of the mountain before setting over Gimhae. The smell of the sea spray at Igidae, ripe with brine, with hints of seaweed and barnacle. The smell (yes, smell) of child laughter on the beaches. Eyes closed and earphones squawking, I can smell them, just beyond my eyelids: sun-blocked though fully clothed, bobbing in yellow rubber tubes, screaming in the rollers. Sun block and fried chicken and dried squid and sand. And wet towel. Yeah, that's it. And how can you not love the smell of a sizzling pile of samgyeopsal, kimchi and garlic popping in the fat, sea salt and sesame oil, duenjang, lettuce leaf. A bottle or two of cold Hite. These are smells that stay with you, too. And they enable the recall, walking past a forgotten alley or sitting on a beach or by a stream sometime after, of moments spent laughing and eating and drinking and talking and walking and swimming with friends.

You can spend a lot of energy feeling bad about something. I have a well-known propensity to get in a funk and stay there. But I have found that there is cheer and beauty available when you actively look for it. It is simply a matter of perception. I am perfectly capable of perceiving the stink of the world... but I can choose to call it something else. Juliet pointed this out when realizing that she had managed to fall in love with someone who had the wrong last name. She said: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet." Shakespeare is shaking the very epistemological foundations of his own art with these words by calling into question the link between language and meaning. And it is something to reflect on in the present discussion. What is flower? Red? Sweet? How much to the adjectives and nouns we choose to describe the phenomena around us affect our perceptions? It has been proposed that the act of naming may constitute nearly the whole of our conscious experience.

So what is the point of all this babble and what does it have to do with life in Korea? There are a lot of people who walk around frustrated because this place doesn't conform to their image of how things should look, or work, or smell. And if it is different it is by definition bad. This is a myopic and self-centered world view from which the inevitable outcome is discontent and anguish. I have learned, while here, that there is another way of thinking, and naming, that is outside of myself. When I am presented with an experience, say a smell, it is essentially a choice. And whether it is a bad smell or a good smell is largely irrelevant. It is a smell. And I am in control with what I do with it. Is it a stink or a "pungent aroma"? No, it is neither. It is merely another color in the rich palette of life. And neither am I saying to live a life of pure reason divorced from emotion. I am only pointing out that emotion is also a choice, and a powerful force which can and should be channeled positively. This applies to interpersonal situations as well. Like when one of my children removes the paper from the brand new crayons I just brought to class. Those are (were) crayons. This is a child. I name which one is more important and let that knowledge further inform my reaction.

I guess what I am saying amounts to the old adage that life is what you make it. And the little things that make up our daily life are all less things acting upon us than opportunities for us to act on the world. And in doing so, we can take control of our attitudes and possibly even our actions. I am very grateful for the chance I have had to live in a culture and landscape so foreign from my own. It has taught me a new way of seeing. And smelling.

Some Thoughts on Turning Forty

2010-07-06T14:03:00.011+09:00

First: I am not old. I thought I would be by this point, but I am not. I am in better shape physically now than I have been since my early twenties: my blood pressure at my last annual check-up was 120/80, my vision is still 20/20, and I have never yet had a cavity. I am fine.

Second: I am not wise. I still make the same mistakes over and over, the same ones I have been making my entire life. I talk too much and rarely say anything. I love the wrong way. Yet I have at least, I think, come to the point where I realize how much I have to learn. And I have an inkling now of the difference between knowledge and wisdom. And I have begun to assemble a mental archive of the potential sources of wisdom (none of which are books, by the way). So there is a chance that in after another forty years of my life I might approach something like wisdom but I doubt it.

Third: I am lucky. I should probably be dead. When I think about some of the stunts I have pulled I can only shake my head. If not deceased in some way that would have placed me in the Darwin Awards Hall of Fame at the very least I should be severely brain damaged. I also managed to somehow avoid prison, a mortgage, drug addiction, reproduction, and marriage. I have a level of financial and personal freedom of which many employable men my age can only dream.

Fourth: I am both more and less attractive than I think. How this is possible: I am more appealing (according to my sources) for reasons I can neither comprehend nor appreciate, as I am not a woman, and I am more unappealing for the same reasons that it is impossible to see certain parts of my anatomy without the aid of reflective devices. We simply don't see ourselves the same way other's see us and for the most part this is good, although it can make us, or me, unjustifiably vain. And (oh no don't do it) on the subject of the fairer sex: I enjoy, from time to time, listening to them talk, trying to concoct theories about how and why women think the way they do and although you couldn't pay me to publish them here I will say that they are full of all the necromancy and convolutions you might expect of a man unschooled in physics attempting the description of a black hole based solely on observation. Yet I have come to understand that this mystery is the finest thing about a woman, the thing that makes them unceasingly fascinating and beautiful like a car wreck in slow-mo. It's like Willie sang about the cowboy, or cowgirl in this case: "[She] ain't wrong / [She's] jist differnt..." But never let it be said that they were wrong in their assessment of us as men. Women are natural born observers. If you have ever overheard two of them sit and dissect another woman who has made the unfortunate mistake of being physically absent... heard them shred personalities, point out deformities, clinically analyse and dismiss wardrobe and hairstyles, and frankly recall critical and often unavoidable lapses in personal hygiene... then you are well aware that nothing gets past them. So your back/nose/ear hair, your balding psoriasis, your hemorrhoids, your bilious gases, skin and tooth decay, moles, spots and warts...she has marked each and every one. Knowing this... and noting her unabashed pleasure at not only seeing you but on occasion stooping to touch you... the only possible conclusion is that you, with all your obvious imperfections, must be, in her eyes at least, beautiful. And that, boys, is a fine, fine thing.

I could go on but I think this hole is deep enough. I thank all of those who made this life possible. I would also like to thank the many individuals who have helped make it enjoyable. I am in your collective debt. More at 50, j.

China

2010-05-02T22:09:00.002+09:00

I meant to write every day while I was here but last night when I logged on I found that both Facebook or Blogger are being blocked by the Chinese government. I actually found out they didn't work on my own and then did a little research and found out why and then found out how to bypass the IP address (which I already knew how to do from getting baseball and "The Office" in Korea which isn't supposed to work either but anyway) and by the time I figgert all of that out I was too tired to write.

The flight over here was uneventful. The Beijing airport was quite a piece of work architecturally and one of the most intriguing spaces I have ever seen. It is huge and seems to hover over the air above you. This (size) soon became a theme and may be the biggest impression I have of China. Everything is giant-size. We got out of the airport and caught a cab to our hotel, the Minzu. This is an old historic hotel which recently celebrated its fiftieth anniversary. It is historic because it is one of ten buildings commissioned by the government when the communists took power back in the early fifties. There are two kinds of old in China. The Minzu kind, the new old, and the Great Wall kind, the old old. They often coexist side by side, as in the case of the famous portrait of Mao affixed to the front of the main gate to the Forbidden City.

After getting checked into the hotel, which is strange in a way but nice, we met a friend of my co-traveller Matt: Ma Huidi. She is so funny. She took us to the National Center for the Performing Arts. This building is surreal. It looks kind of like a partially submerged egg floating in the middle of a lake. It is huge (it actually contains several performance spaces and I believe the one that we were in was one of the smaller ones and it probably seated around 500) and is interesting in that it has no visible entrance. To enter you take a tunnel under the lake which has a glass ceiling: it was amazing to look out through the water of the lake from below. The concert itself was thrilling. The Chinese National Symphony performed with an aging pianist who I gathered from the reception he got was something of a national treasure. Matt told me that the program, which was a mixture of old classics (Grieg and Rachmaninoff) and pieces made famous by the aforementioned pianist during the cultural revolution, was controversial. I wasn't so interested in the politics as the music and enjoyed it thoroughly. After this we walked near Tienanmen Square and then back to the hotel for a late dinner (salted duck and shredded pork).

We woke early and went for a walk. We had booked a tour of the Great Wall through the hotel but we weren't scheduled to leave until ten so we had a leisurely breakfast (bacon, eggs, and Stilton on wheat toast for me) and hiked around for a while. The city was beautiful in the early morning and it was fun to watch the people getting out and about. By the time we were picked up for our tour it was already getting hot and it would eventually reach ninety F. The man who took us on our tour was quite an efficient driver but I don't believe he spoke to us three times throughout the day. He wasn't unfriendly per say, just incredibly quiet. The traffic was horrible the whole day but I was able to catch up on some sleep and it was nice to see the countryside anyway. A few miles north of Beijing the mountains begin and they are very beautiful, rocky sharp ridged, just like the ones you remember seeing from old Chinese ink paintings.

This part of China must have skipped spring because the cherry blossoms were just starting to bloom and only the crazy birches had leaves on. That is another one of the surprising things I found about China. I would have thought that a country of six billions would have had every square inch of arable land under cultivation to produce food (as it is indeed in Korea) but they have apparently had a big drive in the last few years to plant trees to offset their carbon emissions I think and plant they have done. The whole place is covered with newly planted and fast growing trees like poplars, willows, and birches. Everywhere we went it was like one giant tree farm.

Once in the mountains we climbed till we got to our destination, the Mutianyu section of the Great Wall. This is not the most popular (the tourist frenzy what puts the bad in Badaling) or the most picturesque (probably Jinshanling) but strikes a nice balance between the two. We took the cable car up but it was still quite a but of work for both of is to get there and we had to rest in the shade a few times. Once we got to the top the view was of course incredible, the wall rising and falling huge distances as it rode the ridge of the mountain from horizon to horizon, reappearing far off in in places before finally disappearing for good in the distance. The mountains looked a bit naked without their greenery but the puffs of cherry blossom everywhere was a nice accent against the dark of the hills.

After running the gauntlet of the souvenir stands (which is a story all in itself), we got back down and found our driver and headed for the Ming Tombs. We didn't have the time or the energy to really explore them but what we did see was spectacular. I especially loved the Hall of Souls, a thick-walled hall built to look like a wooden structure but constructed of stone so as to last for eternity. Inside was a giant granite obelisk with an ancient inscription. It was amazing to think that these things were built long before the first Europeans set foot on North America. There is a juniper tree there that has been found to be several thousand years old. It was most likely transplanted there during the construction of the tomb complex.

On the way back we stopped at a dumpling house that I found in one of my guidebooks (Matt lived in China for several years and loves dumplings, as do I). They were hand made after we ordered and I made a movie of the lady stuffing and forming them. We had duck, pork, mutton, veggie, and just for fun I ordered donkey. I liked the mutton the best and second probably the donkey, which had a lot of tooth and a beefy texture with a little bit of a whang at the end. All of that was washed down with cold Xingtao. When we got back to the hotel tonight Matt wrote his wife an email and promptly passed out. We are both exhausted. It was a lot of driving in a hot car today and quite a bit of walking. And I have a bit of a cold. One of the funny things that happened today was that I sneezed and had a big string of snot hanging out of my nose. While I was trying to find a tissue or something in my bag the driver turned around and caught a look at me. He turned back around to face the road and silently rolled down his window. That was the end of our air conditioning for the day.

Bed now. Up early tomorrow. More soon and pictures.

2010-03-23T03:47:00.001+09:00

Americans of BOTH parties despise SCOTUS ruling.

2010-02-18T11:16:00.002+09:00

The new poll by the Washington Post et al reveals a strikingly bipartisan rejection of the SCOTUS ruling in the Citizens United case. Eight of ten respondents oppose the ruling, and 65% "strongly oppose" it. And the response was not strongly differentiated by party loyalty. 85% of Democrats and 76% or Republicans opposed it. Age, sex, race, education, and income levels also made little difference in responses.

This ruling reveals what has been suspected since the Robert's court was seated: this SCOTUS is deeply out of touch with how the majority of Americans understand the most basic tenets of representative government. Forget abortion, forget gay marriage, this court is out of touch with even the concept of fair elections. It is telling that across the board- across party lines, across all demographic boundaries- the country is clearly aware of the dangers of this ruling. The infusion of ready corporate cash into the election process is seen as an act of universal disenfranchisement and reveals a recognition that our democracy is under assault from a narrow self-interest that has now been firmly tenured in our nation's highest court.

Bipartisan efforts are now underway in the other branches of government to undo the damage that has been done but the sense of urgency is far from unanimous. The legislative effort does not have the support of Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY), who praised the ruling as "a victory for free speech." Maybe McConnell should take a good hard look at the recent poll and consider the effect of his stance on the next election.

Regardless, this court remains and will be considering several important cases in the upcoming session, including rulings touching church and state (Christian Legal Society and Salazar), the Sherman Act (American Needle v. NFL), and Miranda (Florida v. Powell). These and many other decisions this court faces will have far-reaching implications for all Americans and will, if the Citizens United case is any indication, be decided with little recourse to precedent.

I Hate Microshite Winblows

2010-01-01T15:56:00.003+09:00

I have been listening to Bolser screaming at 'puters for a long while, the brand name "Microsoft" often the only non-profane word in his colorful diatribes and I always jist shook me head but now having spent three weeks and given myself a nose-bleed trying to get this new netbook to allow Korean keyboard input only to have the $49 Microsoft chat forum tell me that my XP Home version not only does not include the default East Asian IME's but is not upgradeable nor is the file download compatible with XP or Vista unless you have the Ultimate version in which case you don't need it anyways...

[editor has deleted the remainder of this post]

Oh, Blogger! Where art thou?

2009-12-11T13:13:00.001+09:00

How did it come to this?
On my recent trip to the US many of my friends asked me why I haven't been writing. I have been writing, just not here so much. I have been doing some pieces for a travel website and I have also been working on a couple of independent projects which may or may not be ready for public viewing at some point. But the blog, I think, has fallen victim to a kind of feeling-at-home-sickness, a complete loss of the conviction that my experiences here are any longer remarkable, literally, either to myself or for others.
Looking back over some of the early entries, full of so much wonder and awe, I am aware of how truly sad this is and know deep down that this sense of leading a commonplace existence is probably very misguided regardless. Not because my life or any life lived outside of its familiar geography is special, but because I feel that all lives are uncommon unless extraordinary measures are taken to make them less so (an eventuality all too common in our cyber-driven world, cave-dwelling people living the better part of their lives inside a simulated universe although I have read and believe that it is possible, given complete enough submersion, to have an authentic emotional and psychological existence through an avatar of one sort or another, although this does not in any way make such an existence any less pathetic). Anyway, I guess I came to feel that these entries were a waste of time to produce let alone disseminate since I had recorded a goodly cross section of the amazing things one can experience as an expat living in Korea and what was left were the day to day matters of existence which I didn't particularly care to record and I felt nobody other than possibly my mother would care to read.
But there have been some remarkable activities of late on which I should, if only for sake of my own processing, make comment, one to which I have already alluded: that of my journey home for the Thanksgiving holiday. I think at one point I might have mentioned a section from the wonderful poem by T.S. Eliot entitled "Little Gidding" which goes "...And the end of all our travelling will be to return to the place we started and to know the place for the first time...", and so, with this adage in mind I ventured forth on my homeward trajectory with the highest of ideals and the loftiest of inward prose: not only would I witness the complete transformation of my home ground and all of its inhabitants, but wouldn’t they also necessarily and reciprocally witness an equally miraculous transformation in me? I must, after this much time away (an incredibly long 16 months), have become essentially a new person, barely recognizable.
And the things I discovered, about myself and others, were even more amazing than I had ever imagined and they will be the subject of my next post…in June. ;)

Back to School Time

2009-09-10T13:35:00.003+09:00

It's back to school time here in Korea and that means back to normalcy for teachers at private academies like mine. The summer break (mid-July to the end of August) is a time of chaos as the tight schedules the children keep become jumbled. Piano lessons, computer class, Math, Science, Art, Tae Kwon Do...most kids maintain a grueling pace during the school year. With the summer break, all the extra-curriculars become jumbled. At many small private academies it becomes impossible to maintain a schedule with leveled classes...you might have 5th year English students in the classroom with beginners. Thankfully, during this period I was given a lot of leeway in lesson planning. I was usually able to find material that was both interesting to the older students and accessible to the less experienced. However, I have nearly used up my giant bottle of Advil.

Thankfully, as I said, things are now returning to normal. As the new classes form I have been making careful notes in regard to individual assessment and class maturity levels so as to begin selection of teaching materials. Unlike at my previous school, where my opinion was not solicited, here I am consulted and expected to have an informed opinion about the students and their needs. That is incredibly refreshing. I recently took a trip to the teacher store with our head teacher and we looked over all of the possibilities and found some good stuff. I am looking forward to teaching with the new supplies.

In other news, my finger is still healing. I have lost a lot of mobility but I am surprised at how adaptable the hand is. Things that I thought I would basically have to completely relearn, like typing, have kind of adapted themselves on their own. And things that I worried would be affected by the loss of strength, like sailing, have come along as well: the other fingers seem to have picked up the slack when I pull a jib sheet or the like.

All in all, things are going well. I recently purchased another scooter (number 3!) and got a huge lock to put on it. I am being careful and hope that this one won't get stolen. It is sure fun riding around on that thing.

Fable

2009-09-01T10:16:00.005+09:00

I don't think I ever really discover anything new... I am only abruptly reminded of something which I had already learned the hard way.

When I got on the elevator last night at 1:30 AM (I don't usually come home that early but I had to work the next day) I was assaulted by a horrible smell. "My god..." I said, waving my hands around my face to swat away invisible swarms, the kind which in my experience always attend such a stench. When the elevator opened on my floor my knees buckled. Now I live on the eleventh floor of a twelve story apartment complex and if I could smell it on the first floor...

As I approached my apartment (retching-eyeswatering-gags) I began to suspect the worst: yep, it was coming FROM MY APARTMENT. At that point I seriously debated going back downstairs, taking a cab to the airport, and catching the first plane to Bangkok. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that the poor cat was stuck in there with that. If she was still alive.

I turned the key and opened the door. I am a farm boy. I have seen and smelled and done things that most people cannot imagine. But this was another level of stink. I quickly opened the windows turned on the fan and the oven vent and the bathroom ventilator and the air conditioner (it was quite hot in there) and tried to find the source of the stench. It didn't take long.

Here in Korea recycling is compulsory and all organic household waste is put back into the system as well, collected in tiny sealed buckets that you put by the curb with a quarter ticket stuck in the lid. I could never be troubled with that of course so I was in the habit of sticking everything in the bags you have to buy for your non-recycleable garbage (about $.25 a liter). The smell was coming from my garbage can.

I didn't take the time to do a complete autopsy but but when I pulled the bag I realized that something horrible had happened. In the bottom of the bag was another bag filled with the contents of my kitty's litter box. Around and in that was the contents of a bag of live clams that died in my refrigerator(dead clams and clam juice). In addition there was some rotten garlic and broccoli, cigarette butts, moldy yoghurt, and used toilet paper. (I had cleaned the refrigerator, bathroom, and litter box the previous night in a fit of domestic energy resulting from relationship issues).

When I got back from the dumpster and cleaned up the cat vomit I reflected on the lessons learned and fondly recalled the other times I forgot to take out the trash.

"No Reservations" Hits Korea!

2009-08-05T22:14:00.004+09:00

I am probably way too excited about this but for anyone who loves food porn as much as I do it is a dream come true for Anthony Bourdain to make a stop in Korea. I only have access through YouTube so I am posting the links to the five parts below. He, as usual, captures the essence of the culture with great cinematic flair. Enjoy!

Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=US&v=y-9SOq_QgsQ
Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDrH6bBCbHA
Part 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxXatYZXrfo&feature=related
Part 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOs6Qf58OP4&feature=related
Part 5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3lpoGAQpj3E&feature=related

Yokjido

2009-07-26T22:04:00.004+09:00

View Larger Map

New photoblog from a couple of weeks worth of frivolities, including a trip to Daegu, a day at the beach and a weekend on Yokji Island.

"I got it! I got it! I got it!...."

2009-07-06T04:20:00.007+09:00

Proximal interphalangeal joint fracture-dislocation of the right index finger. Occurred during attempted catch of foul ball at Lotte Giant's game Sunday, July 5th. Will likely require surgery.

Update: Orthopedist said that unless the bone fragments migrate into the joint surface as swelling goes down surgery is unnecessary. I go back Friday for x-rays and reevaluation. On antibiotics and pain meds. Exit wound closed without sutures.

The Happy Trekker

2009-07-05T08:15:00.007+09:00

We got up early this Saturday to meet some friends for a hike up and over Geumgang from Beomosa. Prior to this I had been going up the cable car and hiking from there so I was a little apprehensive but my condition throughout the day was good and my endurance was actually kind of surprising.

We had gone the night before and got 2 kilos of samgyopsal for a picnic. I was packing that and fruit and a cooker and fuel, plus water. I would estimate thatI was carrying about 10 kilos all together but my pack (Deuter Futura Pro 38) spreads it out and holds it high so I was able to climb cool and easy. I can't say enough about this bag. It is a joy to climb with.

After the usual launch troubles we got out to Namcheon and met Mr. Kim and Mr. Tak, who were to be our guides. In addition to Yujin and I our party included Rachelle (a Missoula bred mountain girl and hardcore climber from my former school), Mr Bak (Korean buddy from the bar), and Nuna (said bar's long-suffering proprietress). We went a strange way, up past the bus parking lot (where I was startled to find that we were not even taking the bus which takes you about a quarter of the way up to Beomeosa Temple) and in between a couple of buildings and immediately onto a dirt path through some hillside garden plots planted with corn and cabbage. The smell of the corn gave me a little bit of homesickness but I was soon busy climbing and got over it.

The lower slope was strewn with pieces of jagged granite ranging from baseball to suitcase size. The trail is hardpacked clay and with these pointy rocks sticking out everywhere. I am hiking in a pair of lowtop Keen walkers with leather uppers and although they are comfortable and offer quite a bit of protection to the top of my feet they are a little light in the sole to I was being careful where I stepped. Last week we came down in a steep wash that was almost all rock and my feet were beat up pretty bad when we finished.

The flora at that lowest level is tall pine trees that are without branches until about thirty feet up, where they form a thin but tight canopy. The ground cover is sparse and low: fern and bracken, some ivy and a few light grasses. Daisy fleabane and camellia grow pretty much everywhere but we were climbing to about 800 meters and I am surprised at the distinct ecosystems even within that short jump. It goes from pine forest to mountain meadow with ground cover changin almost constantly. In addition, the east and west side of the mountain seem to have different climates. The ridgeline runs roughly north and south and although both sides are surrounded by city, the western face fronts a huge river delta that gets significantly more rainfall. Where we crossed little brooks on the east side we were fording rushing streams on the west. The ground cover is much thicker on that side and there are deciduous trees much higher.

I was disoriented so I kept expecting to cross the temple road which makes a kind of one way loop up and back down the mountain. I could hear the temple, a monk singing prayers and a mallet on a wooden bell, and I kept hearing it as we went above and beyond it on the left. After a bit I deduced that we were not inside the loop at all. I had been counting on that as a way to mark our progress, but it was actually liberating to find that I was unable to see where I was at or how far I had to go. I could just concentrate on my feet and the beauty around me.

It had been hot when we set out, but we soon climbed into the sweet cool of the pine forest. We climbed over and along and sometimes in the little brooks that bubble down from the peaks. They each sing thier own tune. There were bird calls in the air but I didn't see many. Notable were cuckoos calling back and forth across the hillside. Near the top we can to a small ledge where there was a tiny house and garden and a little spring coming out of the hillside, channelled through a piece of bamboo and trinkling out into a giant bowl carved out of a single piece of stone. The water filled the bowl and trickled down over the edges. Tin dippers were hanging from nails in another piece of bamboo at the side. Weary travellers were stopped there, sitting in the shade, refilling water bottles and soaking down neckerchiefs. That water was sweet and cold.

Soon after that we left the trees and entered the alpine meadow that runs along the higher ridge line. We stopped there to take in the view, which was specatacular. To the right and the left huge split granite spires jutted up into the sky, looking for everything like a set of precariously stacked children's blocks the merest breeze might blow over. Somewhere below the city smouldered but we couldn't see it: the whole valley was shrouded in mist. Far off a few other mountains poked their heads up.

We crossed the wall of the Geumgang fortress and began almost immediately to descend. After crossing our first large waterway we came to a small group of buildings in a hollow on the other side. Wooden platforms were built right up to the edge of the rushing stream and people were sitting there eating the simple fare served by the women in the hut: fresh tofu (still warm!) with kimchi and ganjang sauce (soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar, red pepper powder, sesame seeds, and chopped green onion...I could drink it), fresh cabbage leaf salad in red pepper sauce and sesame oil, and, the ubiquitous mountain likker, makgeolli. After a year here I have finally acquired a taste for this tart rice-based concoction. If you like a nice toothy Belgian wheat beer you should try this stuff. It looks like drinking yoghurt and kicks like a mule.

This was to be our appetizer so we moved on and about ten minutes later found ourselves at a nice flat spot along a boulder strewn stream bed. You had to talk loud to hear eachother over the sound of the water finding its way around and under and over all the rocks. Unfortunately, we had no sooner gotten our stove out than it began to thunder and pour buckets of rain. We soldiered on, Yujin holding the lone umbrella over the griddle. Soon we were all soaked but we got it all packed up again and hightailed it down the mountian to the road that would take us down to the bus stop. Along that road we found a little tent restaurant where we stopped to check our cell phones and cameras (all fine...did I mention I love my bag?) and have a little snack: odeng (fish cake soup) and haemul pajeon (green onion pancakes with seafood...usually squid, shrimp, and clams but depends on season/locale. One of my favorites.).

On to the bus and down the winding hillside road to town for a taxi ride back to the bar where we could discuss our individual and collective heroics over half-liters of maekju, sitting barefoot on newspaper, our muddy clothes hanging in the bushes out front.

Signs of Progress

2009-06-15T06:24:00.005+09:00

This is a pretty crummy picture but what it represents is a bit of a milestone for me. Since I had the surgery my condition has improved dramatically and Yujin and I went on a long walk with mild exertion on Saturday and a long hike with serious exertion on Sunday (up the cable car and over and down the other side and back up to Seokbulsa, the temple carved in stone) and neither time did I suffer even mild symptoms. It wasn't very hot though, which is the true test. It was great to be able to get out and do some hiking.

I have completely lost the tourist attitude and I forget sometimes to even bring my camera along. I actually took pictures at the South Gate while I was out yesterday but I was so blown away by the temple I forgot to get it out. I sat for a long time in the temple. It was so quiet and peaceful. I would like to go to that place again.

We had left my scooter at the gate of the park where the cable car goes up but after we hiked all the way down the other side of the mountain and then half way back up in another place to go to that temple we only had three hours to get all the way back up to take the cable car down again to the scooter. I know there was probably a short cut to the top from the temple but as you know nothing is marked and I couldn't risk a descent in the dark if we missed the last cable car down at 7pm and Yujin was wearing Brikenstock's which she always does but the descent to the temple was basically "bouldering" and she wore out her little toes and although my balls were fine my knees were not and I was already into the Advil.

So we walked down further from the temple (still on the wrong side of the mountain) and came to a little noodle shack at the end of the paved road up from the other side. There was a taxi parked there with nobody in it and I asked a guy sitting there where was the driver and he said he didn't know (Yujin was in the bathroom) and I sat there and here comes this guy drunk off his ass and he goes over to the taxi and tries to get in and it is locked of course and he starts kicking the door and cussing. He then tried the doors of all the other cars. I am just sitting there watching all of this.

When Yujin came out of the bathroom the guy and his wife I had been talking to said they would give us a ride but it was a delicate situation given the belligerent nature of the drunk so we hiked down the road a way and when they finished their noodles they picked us up. They dropped us off very near the scooter and it was a minimum cab ride to the pick-up. We thanked them profusely and I gave them my two hiking apples. Home and then to the Bali Sauna and Jimjilbang for a scrubbing, steam bath, and massage chair. I slept soundly.

Cheap Sunglasses

2009-06-12T06:00:00.003+09:00

Why, in a country where an umbrella can be purchased for W5000 ($3.50), is it so hard to find a good pair of cheap sunglasses? I lose (or break) sunglasses at a rate which precludes purchasing an expensive pair. The ones I see at HomePlus and the like are cheap, but they are priced at W30,000 and up. Someone somewhere is getting rich off sunglasses. The same goes for watches. The plain analog Casio's I see everywhere being sold for W70,000 are in the dollar store at home. I am also frustrated by the price and selection of clothing my size (biggish). I am still wearing what is left of the wardrobe I brought with me a year ago. It is wearing thin. An uncapped pen and a rainy struggle over a taxi claimed two shirts. Most of my t-shirts have lost their former shape as a result of the humidity and the clothes line. The situation is becoming somewhat critical.

The price of some things seems almost punitive. Kitty litter is W12,000 for 10 kilos. Is it imported? If so, this makes sense. I didn't really think about it until I arrived here but this country is essentially an island. There is no land route. Everything that they don't have must be imported. I guess kitty litter is one of those things. And it is heavy. So is peanut butter. A rice cooker will set you back a pretty penny. So will a new laptop.

Food is the best value. It is so cheap to eat out here that it is actually less cost effective to eat at home if you factor in waste. Factory farms with products bio-engineered for shelf life have apparently not hit the market here. Tomatoes look like the ones we grow in the garden at home and taste like tomatoes, but they go bad overnight. I have taken to buying all my veggies from the bulk bin one or two onions at a time, other things as I need them.

I have formed an addiction to the fresh tuna shops. At W20,000 and up they aren't the cheapest place to eat, but how can you put a price on heaven? The price is graded according to the cuts you get, but I always get the cheapest for the same reasons I will never fly first class: a. I can't afford it and b. I don't know the difference and c. I don't want to know: it would make Coach unbearable. Sitting up at the bar you can watch as the sashimi chef carves off cool chucks of fresh raw tuna: the tartar-looking head meat, deep red cuts from the fillets, and, holy of holies, the fatty tuna belly. The leaner cuts get a dip in sesame oil infused with crushed garlic and sea salt. The fatty tuna belly only needs a touch of soy sauce and wasabi. I like to wrap them in the nori provided. And they keep giving the stuff to you until you say quit. Then they bring you some more stuff: a small baked daggerfish, tiny spicy-tuna rolls, huge crab and salmon hand rolls. Top that off with some delicious beverages and you can roll. Heavenly.

One thing that has changed since I moved is that I now have a TV. I told them to take it away at my first apartment. I have become a soccer junkie so this time I kept it and it is a blessing and a curse. It is nice to be able to watch FIFA matches without going out, but I am a chronic channel flipper. I have discovered, however, that although I will sit flipping through the channels for three hours, I will not walk across the room to turn the thing on. As a result of this I now keep the remote sitting on top.

Let's see... what else was I going to write about? I guess the biggest change lately has been the arrival of the scooter. It has made getting around almost too easy. I think that I am gaining weight. This might also have something to do with the elevator. But there is no denying that it is fun zooming around town. I bought a second helmet, a flat black unit in the style of a WWI German brainbucket. It offers mimimal impact protection but it is cool (temperature-wise).

We are getting ready to begin monsoon season here: hot and wet and hot. The mosquitos are out, carrying god-knows-what. I burn coils at night but that doesn't help my hack. My blood alchohol level usually makes me unappetizing anyway.

I finally got some credit into my Skype account so if anyone back home gets a phone call from a very strange number it might be me. Later.

A Status Report

2009-05-21T06:36:00.006+09:00

As you know I have tried in this blog to be upbeat and to accentuate the positive aspects of this experience. That may be why I haven't written in a while.

My tenure at KidsClub had been difficult from the beginning. There were many reasons for this, some of them my fault, some of them not. Long story short, I have moved on. After a bit of soul-searching I decided to try again in a better school and, putting to use the hard-won lessons I have learned, make a fresh start. After a few stressful weeks I found a new job with a new apartment, both of them much, much better than what I had before. One of my problems with the previous place was that they required so much administrative work that there was little time to do anything else. In my new job I go to work, teach, and go home. It is wonderful. I have signed on for another year and it is my intention to come home for a week around Thanksgiving.

I bought an ugly, second-hand scooter to get to work. I teach in two locations now so having my own transportation will make getting around much easier. I am wearing my helmet.

Spring has been something to witness here. The cherry blossoms exploded in early April and then the greenery. It is still cool but the hot, wet summer is just around the corner. From my apartment here on the eleventh floor I can see the mountains to the north and west. Through the rain they look like they are wearing an old, dusty green work-coat, dark green and darker yet in the creases. The rotary is lit up with neon advertising Thai massage and love-motels. I have made new friends in my new neighborhood and found new favorite haunts and eateries. This neighborhood never rests. I have engineered a combination of sleep sounds to drown everything out: crickets for the squeaking roof ventilators, ocean for the booming trucks, rain for the unmuffled delivery scooters, a creek for the rest. It works sometimes.

It is an overused truism that what does not kill you makes you stronger. Facing homelessness and unemployment a world away from home would cause a more stable person than I to have panic attacks, and I passed some uneasy nights in the last month. It was very gratifying, however, to be able to hold it together, take inventory of my assets, and find myself of value not only to others but to myself. That may seem like an overly dramatic recounting, but, believe me, there were moments when I had to reassure myself that I was not a complete failure and that I had something to offer. And I know it must have been this way because of how I feel now: nearly weightless. Where there had been a dread and hopelessness there is now anticipation and light. It takes a long, hard night to make one appreciate the warmth of a good sunrise.

On Feeling at Home Away from Home

2009-04-29T21:07:00.006+09:00

It has been 10 months now and the earth has gone far enough in its circuit around the sun that the city is starting to throw recollections at me, fleeting memories of my first days here. The slant of the sun, still up now at the end of the work day, the outdoor revelry on weekend nights, the smells erupting from the open-fronted grills, and even the feeling of warm sand under my feet, these things all recall to me in brief moments the initial thrill of being for the first time in a place, then to me, utterly foreign.

It is a bittersweet emotion I feel when a sight or smell reminds me of that first rush in the early days of this journey. In my blissful naivety I felt like an explorer. Every walk to the grocery was an adventure. Every meal was an unfolding mystery. Every weekend was epic in its delicious sense of possibility. Those days are gone now. The streets still glow, but it is no longer the same quality of light. It is as if someone snuck into the booth, focused the camera, turned on the surround sound, and then, adding insult to injury, switched on the subtitles. For because I can read hangul now the menus and bus routes are decipherable. I know my way around the subway and the railway. I can negotiate with shopkeepers and motel-keepers. I can find deodorant and chicken bullion and Land-of-Lakes butter and fresh baguettes and Monterrey Jack.

Yet all of this familiarity has come with a price. It's an odd feeling of being lost in the familiar. This is juxtaposed in my mind with those first magical days, especially now, when I am being bombarded with intimations of what it was like before, back when I knew too little to be unimpressed by the now common sights that were once a source of wonder. An old lady sitting cross legged on a piece of cardboard selling tiny bunches of what look like weeds in the subway. A shop where a man is making tea from wood chips and roots. The street markets teeming with a thousand varieties of commerce, where live fish stands abut purveyors of rainbow hued sandals on one side and handmade ceramics on the other. The stinking drunk laying in his own puke, pockets turned out, in an alley off the rotary. The million tiny dishes and smoking grates covered in meat, that make up the cornucopia that is Korean cuisine.

All of this is still wonder-full, and I have come to love this place more and more as I have become comfortable, but I still miss those golden afternoons when the air, the light, and the sounds of this city all seemed permeated by an unknowable otherness. That loss is the price you pay for making yourself at home.

Plagiarized Thoughts on my Newfound Mortality

2009-04-27T17:02:00.003+09:00

"Forseeing"

Middle age refers more
to landscape than to time:
it's as if you'd reached

the top of a hill
and could see all the way
to the end of your life,

so you know without a doubt
that it has an end—
not that it will have,

but that it does have,
if only in outline—
so for the first time

you can see your life whole,
beginning and end not far
from where you stand,

the horizon in the distance—
the view makes you weep,
but it also has the beauty

of symmetry, like the earth
seen from space: you can't help
but admire it from afar,

especially now, while it's simple
to re-enter whenever you choose,
lying down in your life,

waking up to it
just as you always have—
except that the details resonate

by virtue of being contained,
as your own words
coming back to you

define the landscape,
remind you that it won't go on
like this forever.

"Foreseeing" by Sharon Bryan, from Flying Blind. © Sarabande Books, 1996. Reprinted with(out) permission. (buy now) Recycled from The Writer's Almanac.

The Sad Saga of My Left Testicle

2009-04-26T16:44:00.003+09:00

My love affair with the Korean medical system came to its full fruition this weekend as I had surgery to repair various vascular components of my left testicle. This medical episode has been ongoing throughout my first year here and has been described in various post that I haven't the energy right now to hyperlink. I spent the night before I got here in the emergency room with this problem and have been treated for it twice since and several times before. Basically, for those not already sick of hearing about it, the blood supply exiting the left testicle has to go through the kidney to get back into the stream and in something like 40% of all men this causes a problem, especially when the affected individual is physically exerting themselves. The problem is further aggravated when these activities occur during warm weather.

As I enjoy moderate physical exertion (climbing, biking, walking, quoits) whatever the weather, I have become rather frustrated with the situation. I have had swelling and pain pretty much all of the time for the last couple of years and five times it has become bad enough that I have sought medical assistance. This week I finally said enough is enough.

The surgery was technically described as the "excision of the varicele and hydrocele of the spermatic chord." The procedure itself was quick and painless. I passed out when they put in my IV beforehand, but the injection for the spinal block wasn't that bad and I was awake throughout the surgery and felt nothing but some pushing and pulling. I was in quite a bit of pain for the first few hours but then they gave me a shot in the ongdongi (butt) that put my whole pelvis to sleep.

I began to worry, however, because they had dropped about 2 liters of saline on me by that time and they kept asking me if I had peed yet. Between the lingering affects of the spinal block and the local I couldn't feel my pee mechanism and I knew that another wrong answer was probably going to result in the dreaded catheter so I did what anyone else smart enough to know the difference would do: I lied. I told them that I had pissed like a horse and felt great. The following morning, still having not peed in reality, I lied again and told them I didn't have any pain and refused the local butt shot. At this point I got feeling back and could consciously open my urethra.

Some interesting differences about the Korean hospital experience:

"Do It Yourself." There is an amazing degree of self-help expected of patients at the Korean hospital. I was given silverware with my first meal and thereafter I was expected to clean it after each and keep it in a secure place for the next. If you want a bath: "There is the shower room! (Hope you brought a towel)." Thirsty? There is a water cooler in the patient's lounge down the hall. Need to use the internet: two coin operated terminals in said lounge (W100 [.07 USD] for 5 minutes). PJs come with the room but if you didn't bring slippers those will cost you W2000.
"Help Yourself." If you press the "help" button every nurse on the floor sprints down the hall to your room figuring you must be dying. I only saw a light come on once in the 48 hours I was there. They never even told me where it was. There was an astounding amount of cooperation and assistance in our little room. Yujin and I helped the guy recovering from a major abdominal surgery and he reciprocated by letting me watch two innings of baseball (remote control control was apparently dictated by seniority).
"If you can't 'Do It Yourself' bring your family." (Or your girlfriend) Every bed had a fold-out cot underneath and the majority of patients had at least one relative attending 24-hours a day. In some cases entire families were there. Yujin, godsbless'er, wanted to stay but I got her to go home on the pretense that the cat needed care. (Still, she once again saved the day with Snickers, snuggles, and smiles, even smuggling in a Big Mac when I had pegged out my kimchi-eat-ometer.) These family members did everything that in many cases would fall to CNAs in American hospitals and nursing homes. The nurses were there for medical assistance only.
Needles. I would say that over 90% of the hospital patients were on IV drips. Into this went everything that wasn't intramuscular (that went in the bottom). I didn't get a pill to take, not one, until I was discharged. (I cheated and took three Advil I had in my hangover kit during "Operation Urethra.") The hospital I went to specializes in treating foreigners and the nurses were ready for my squeamishness. They told me that Koreans are used to shots and I believe them: when you go to a pharmacy for a prescription here they ask you if you want pills or an injection. They love the needle here.
Speed. I walked in to the hospital and when they asked me what was wrong i pointed and was sitting in front of a urologist in three minutes (you take a number!) I entered the operating room at a trot and was there for thirty seconds when they maneuvered me into a fetal position and stuck a needle in my back. The last thing I felt down there was my pants being jerked down. I then heard an electric shaver and some sounds like someone sorting silverware. I asked a guy standing there (I think the anesthesiologist) when they were going to start the operation and he said they were finished.
Money. I have remarked on this before but I am continually astounded by how much you get for your money here. It makes the American medical system seem like a huge hoax. Two days room and board, sonogram, x-rays (chest and ab), complete blood work, electrocardiogram, urologist, anesthesiologist, surgeon, operating room, and all meds: less than $500 USD. And I think my co-pay was over 50% because this was elective. In contrast, the one-hour visit to the ER the night before I left is over $2000 now and the bills are still coming in.

All in all it was a wonderful experience. I may go back soon and have them look at the other problem area(s). Stay tuned.

Back in the Future (not)

2009-03-28T10:06:00.006+09:00

As my first year in Korea will come to a close soon it has been of utmost importance to figger out what I am going to do next. I have had to face the grim reality that I am very, very happy here. Why this is I can't pinpoint exactly but there is little I can do now to fix it. I seem to be stuck with a beautiful Korean girlfriend who is nearly half my age and thinks I can walk on water. I have also nearly procured what appears to be, on paper at least, a deeply rewarding and highly lucrative new job. All my friends here, expat and Korean alike, seem to think I am funny and witty and at times tolerable. And Spring in Busan is just simply incredible.

The main source of angst now is the break. I have nearly two months with nothing to do. I am not sad about this. If you know me you will recall that leisure is my area of expertise. But with this amount of free time comes responsibility. Should I go home and see the people I miss who apparently miss me as well or should I go see something in Asia or should I get a temporary job and work like a good boy?

In what amounts to being as close as I ever come to a serious commitment about anything, I purchased the Loney Planet for Southeast Asia today. Aside from being a major financial investment (damned Korean bookstore), simply holding the thing in my hands makes my leg start twitching. It is huge (we are already calling it "The Bible") and chock full of travelley goodness. I remember the day I bought the Loney Planet for Korea. Even though it was still a tentative decision, when I opened that up it was over: I was already on the boat.

This is worse. From what I have been told and now read, we can go almost anywhere we want in Southeast Asia outside of Singapore and Hong Kong for $30 a day. That means that I could conceivable spend the whole two months walking about down there. I am also looking into the possibility of working for a little while here in Korea during that time or possible getting some temp work in Thailand. That would make me feel better about it.

I would like to hit Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Malasia, Sumatra (Indonesia), and Bali as well but all of those places have had political/terrorist/Muslim issues lately. They just caned an Italian aid worker in Indonesia for having pre-Marital sex with his Muslim girlfriend, but usually (so the book says) the Islamic laws are only enforced on Muslims. And I am and have always been exceptional when it comes to the authorities (there is a standing bet among the wait staff at the Sangamo Club regarding the date/cause/number of lashes of my inevitable caning). Many of the areas I will be visiting were affected by the Boxing Day tsunami, which killed approximately 220,000 people. In many of those places the after-affects were positive. Northern Sumatra rebels negotiated a peaceful coexistence governance due to the necessary presence of foreign aid workers there. It is now safe to travel to some of the most pristine beaches in the world along the western coast.

Burma is still largely off limits and there are issues with Muslim separatists in Southern Thailand, but they aren't into killing tourists too much. I also have to figger out an immunization schedule, as it looks like I will need about 30 shots. This doesn't sound good, but then neither does Dengue Fever (they call it "break-bone fever because of the associated joint pain). Asia has budget airlines like Europe now and I can get flights around the region for next to nothing (Bangkok to Manila $60, to Singapore $30, to Hanoi $50 [in all cases cheaper than first-class bus or train]). It is my plan to find an island bungalow ($10) and chill for a week and then getting out a bit. The Loney Planet lists cooking classes at most of the larger Thai destinations and a three day course with lodging is well within the budget and I wouldn't mind adding Thai to my already impressive culinary qualifications (it's true, I'm sorry, but when you look like me you better have some skills or you are going to be L-O-N-E-Y).

So that is the deal. All of those people back home who feel like they can't wait another year to see me could maybe consider meeting me in Hawaii at Christmas time. Peace.

Update. Won-Dollar Exchange Rate: From Bad to Worse.

2009-03-07T16:55:00.009+09:00

Update: If you want the nuts and bolts of how this all works check out today's New York Times leader: "Rising Dollar Lifts the US but Leads to Crisis Abroad"

I wrote about this a while back (see "If") but the situation has become so much worse that I thought it would be beneficial to comment on it again. As of this writing the rate sits at 1/1555, which means that if you need to send home $500 a month it will cost you over W800,000 depending on how you do it. This is not good. I have friends who have to send a lot more than that home and things for them are getting desperate. The rate has now collapsed to the point where one wonders where it will bottom out, or if it will.

There is some indication that the rate change is beginning to affect recruitment and, as a result, salary levels here. Posted salaries were increased for the last EPIK hiring cycle but they are no where near replacing the lost income through exchange rate deflation. It will be interesting to see if the salary schedule for the current hiring cycle will reflect any acknowledgment of the current rate dive. I am not sure the Education Ministry understands the degree to which this could affect the willingness of new teachers to come to Korea. Of course, with the unemployment rate in the United States now topping 8% there will be more push from the backside but the debt load of the average college graduate ($19000 as reported by the SeattlePI or see a complete breakdown here at the AMSA site) may cause many of them to look elsewhere to teach abroad.

The problem is the uncertainty: Even if you look at the rate now and feel you can deal with it you still have to ask yourself: if the won/dollar trade has declined over 55% in one year where will it be a year from now? Most economists think that the economic downturn in the United States is going to get much worse before it improves.

There may be some hope. The good people at forcasts.org (who BTW predicted a much smaller downturn in this quarter) have the Won rebounding by September. Since they last updated in early February the rate has collapsed completely so it will be interesting to see how they adjust the comeback levels. I would be ecstatic if the rate got back into the 1/1250 range again. I hope they are right.

FIN, or "My Butt's Asleep."

2009-02-17T15:35:00.011+09:00

The French film festival at the Cinematheque Pusan concluded this weekend and Yujin and I made a marathon of it Sunday to catch the few that she had missed. We saw Stormy Waters (tr.), a movie made in 1940 that had some rather unsubtle symbolism regarding the international situation at the time (one ship, that cheated, was Russian, and the competitor of the French ship was called the Dutchman.) It was notable for some remarkable special effects. Although to our eyes it looked like a couple of model boats in a bathtub, I am sure that in 1940 it was possible to effectively suspend disbelief. The plot was thin but the lead actress and actor were superb. And any movie that closes with the words "Forward at 60 revs" is OK in my book. All of these movies had English subtitles and Korean subtitles were shot along side the film from a laptop with a LCD projector.

Ordinary Lovers (tr.) was about the Paris "Revolution" of 1968. I loved The Unbearable Lightness of Being (both the movie and the novel [Milan Kundera] ) and this movie covered the same time period but in Paris not Prague and with the communists on the opposite side. It had sex, drugs, more drugs, throwing cobblestones, more drugs, and a main character (a poet...wait for it...) who ends up killing himself (with drugs) when his girlfriend moves to New York with the painter for whom she has been modeling. If it sounds predictable it wasn't and mostly because the plot, what little there was of it, was lost in the brilliant photography (B+W in 2005) and the long uncut shots. I believe the director intended this and succeeded as I was good and fecking depressed when it was over (179 minutes).

We concluded the evening with a movie of conventional length and format. A young girl is tired of being a girlfriend and a mistress and decides she is going to get married. The subtle way in which she fails even though the object of her pursuit is genuinely attracted to her was intriguing. The language of the climactic scene, in which the inexplicable behavior of both parties was explained was transfixing in its psychological depth. Unfortunately, the film had dragged up to that point and then it was over. And it was shot in 1986. In France. You can imagine what the clothes and music looked and sounded like. Torture. I have fortunately forgotten what it was called.

While we were waiting for the second movie to start I saw an expat reading a book in the corner and I went over and asked him what he was reading. He showed me an old translation of Dostoyevsky's "The Idiot." Odd. I had a copy of a newer translation in my bag. I pulled it out and we had a laugh. This young man was tall and shy (think Luke Turasky) and I asked him where from, etc., etc. Turns out he was born in the US but moved to France when he was five and grew up there. He still visits frequently (parents live/work there) but try as he might he could not achieve citizenship, something for which he was still a bit miffed. We watched the last couple of films together and exchanged digits for more hang out.

Next week (February 26 to March 1), by the way, they are showing a series of Sergio Leoni films, including my favorite film of all time: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. If you have not seen a spaghetti western you should get out there next weekend for some of that. The casting, the photography, the music, the plotting... all of it is exceptional. If you want more info email me but the theatre is adjacent the yachting center in Haeundae. Take bus 1003 from Suyeong or get off line 2 at Dongbaek and walk back up the river to toward Centum. Call PIFF for schedule as the paper I have is in Korean and I can't figger it out damnit.

Afterwards we cabbed it to what has become my favorite restaurant. It is a dwedgi-guk-bab place near my school. Huge steaming cauldrons of pork soup bubble on the porch of these places and the soup comes with a whole bunch of stuff to throw in there, customizing it to your taste. There are tiny shrimp to throw in (makes it salty), the best kimchi I have ever had, big bowls of gakdugi (radishes in spicy red sauce), guksu (noodles), veggies, red bean sauce, and, of course, rice. It is filling and wholesome and when I finish eating there I feel good all over.

The weather has turned back to the cold side but winter is set to come to a close. I am really looking forward to springtime here. I have been told that people come from all over to see the cherry blossoms in the trees along the rivers. It is supposed to be quite a sight. I got into the ocean and it didn't seem too much colder than it was in the summer, when it was freezing. If I had some warm sand to dry off on I would probably take a dip now. It only hurts till you go numb.

The school year is about over as well. We will be having our graduation for the AM classes on February 25th. After that a new crop of kiddoes will join us from downstairs. All three of my morning classes are second year so I will have all new classes. Although saying goodbye to some of these kids is going to kill me I am looking forward to the new classes.

That about sums it up. In regards to the blog, I will be writing more in the near future as there are some travel plans in the works. Unfortunately, I have nearly reached the storage limit on my online photo journal. I am looking into other options but the simplest thing seems to maintain a hard copy and delete old albums as new ones are posted. So if you have a favorite picture or haven't looked at all of them and want to, you had better get on it. Their days are numbered.

"Forward at 60 revs."

FIN

Talk About the Weather

2009-02-04T10:46:00.009+09:00

As the Midwestern U.S. remains in deep freeze and London digs out of the biggest snow in memory I thought it would be timely to describe the winter weather here in Busan. One of the wiser things that I investigated prior to selecting my Korean destination was the climate and Busan was described as having "mild winters and hot, wet summers." This is an apt description. This winter has only had a few brief stretches of really cold weather and these were due primarily to wind chill. I have been told that it is rare for there to be prolonged stretches of sub-freezing weather because of the proximity of the ocean, but I am not sure of this. When the wind blows hard from the north, across frozen Russia and over the Gobi, I doubt the ocean has much to say about it. I did a little research and found an archive of last February's weather data.This reveals an average high of 47 and an average low of 32, with a high monthly temperature of 57 and a low of 21. These are significantly warmer conditions than I am used to at this time of year. Temperatures in my hometown can reach down into the negative numbers in February.

I took a walk today at lunch time and sat outside reading on a sunny park bench. I smell now the odors I associate with Spring: dead grass and decomposition, warm earth and pine needles. The bamboo grove that backs the bus stop is abuzz with a flock of chickadees. The days are growing noticeably longer now. I leave school at 6:30 and there is now still a little light. A small temple sits halfway up the mountain across the valley from the school and as I was walking down to the bus last week they were ringing the huge bell: long, deep tolls, the call for sunset prayers.

There is a series of French films with English subtitles at the art film theater in Busan for the next three weeks, so Yujin will be staying with me a lot more, which is nice. I will be attending them with her. I have been trying out some more public baths but I haven't found any that I like as much as the one near my house, which is clean, and nice, and large enough that you don't feel claustrophobic. There is a necessary attention to personal space in a place like that and when there is a crowd that becomes a bit of a problem. I made a new friend through my blog (Hi, Wendy!) and she and her friends are jimjilbang enthusiasts as well and told me of some I will definitely try soon. One has tubs of "doctor fish". I gather that the little fellers exfoliate your feet while they soak. Not exactly what I would call appetizing but it beats being a blue-fly in a hog shed I guess.

On Sunday it was a breezy 56 and we got up early and went to our favorite Sunday brunch spot, the G Terrace on Gwangan Beach. This cavernous place has outdoor seating and indoor balconies and on Sundays they put out a simple brunch with fruit and cereal and salad, make-it-yerself French bread pizza, scrambled and boiled eggs, toast and soup. (I like to use the pizza fixings to make an omelet). It is only W6000 for the lunch and it includes all the coffee and tea you want so it is a real bargain. For W4000 more you can get one of four entrees. We usually split one. Add in the front row view of the ocean and the bridge and it is hard to beat. The street side tables are very comfortable and the tables inside are fronted by couches with huge fluffy cushions. We like to take a book and hang out for a bit. The owner is nice to a fault, so if you go "take what you want and eat what you take."

Afterwords, we went for a walk on the beach and saw an amazing sight. A man was in the process of launching hundreds of kites on a single line. I have never seen anything like it. They stretched up into the sun. And he just kept pulling them out of the box. Long after we had stopped and gawked and went on I looked far back down the beach and he was still pulling them out. We stopped at a small amusement park and rode the "Viking (somethingorother)" which was far more terrifying that it looked. I screamed until the tears ran down my face and Yujin laughed so hard she begged me to stop it but I was only partly faking. She has come to the point where she will walk blocks out of her way to avoid passing a public bath with me because I want to try them all and this time she was trying to get me to look the other way but I smelled one (the steam rooms have huge bags of medicinal herbs in them and the ventilation has a rather distinctive odor). I really liked that bathhouse. It was packed but the co-ed nappy room (you sleep on heated stone floors with a block of cedar wood for a pillow and you would be surprised at how comfy it is) had a huge tub of hot clay balls about the size of marbles and we nestled down in there and stared out the huge windows at the sailboats on the ocean. Very nice.

The Nude Beaches of South Korea

2009-01-19T15:42:00.004+09:00

Boy, that is a good one. I have never come into a more modest group of people in my life. Last week, while doing a unit on travel with my older students (middle school), one of them asked me if it was true that there are places where people swim in the ocean naked. I said yes, I have heard of such places, but that I had never been to one. They screamed and reflexively covered their eyes at the thought. Most Koreans at the beach swim fully clothed.

There is public nudity in Korea, and lots of it. However, it is all gender-segregated and indoors. I am talking about public baths. Koreans love them, and Busan is apparently sitting on top of quite a bit of hot spring water. The baths here are quite famous and one, the Hurshimchung, claims to be the largest facility in all of Asia. It took me a while to muster the nerve, but I finally went to one and I am happy to report that it was awesome.

The place is near my house in the basement of a large hotel. When you arrive you pay at the desk (5000W) and are given a key. You take your key to the first locker room, the shoe lockers, and lock up your shoes there. Then you go into the other locker room and strip down. Now I am not squeamish about being naked. If someone yells "Skinny Dip!" I am usually the first one in the water. Now I am not what you would call model material: I run a little flat on the back and a little not flat on the front so if my exhibition was performance art it would definitely be categorized as comedy. But what made me uncomfortable, as I walked through the locker room in my birthday suit, was that I was apparently the object of a survey in demographic physiology. The Koreans, every one of them, would look at my eyes, look at my package, and then look at my eyes again. I could tell what they were thinking: "Yankee wankee itty bitty." Some of them were polite enough to attempt a look somewhere between pity and disbelief, but I also registered two smirks and one chuckle. Livid with self-loathing, I wanted to tell them that it was unfair to judge my entire race based on my physique and also that I was nervous and that additionally it was a tiny bit cool, but of course this was impossible.

I consoled myself with the thought that I was at the very least anonymous. I am in another country after all. It isn't like I was going to run into anyone I know in this place. Then,as I walked into the huge bath room proper, in which a couple hundred Koreans were washing, soaking, steaming and snoozing contentedly, I heard a small voice scream across the room: "Hello, Joe teacher!" And a couple hundred Koreans simultaneously turned, looked at my eyes, looked at my business, and looked back at my eyes.

After a very brief and uncomfortable conversation with one of my students I repaired to the showers. It is part of the social contract at the baths that you will not enter the pool until you have scrubbed at least one layer of skin off, and I did so with gusto. You are given a long washcloth that runs about 150 on the grit scale and you can get hold of the ends and scour away. It is quite nice on the back. The showers actually had a safety button on them so that you don't blister yourself accidentally. I bypassed this and set the shower to stun (those of you who have showered with me know that I like them hot). I took a nice long soapy shower and declared myself ready for the tubs.

There were five. The largest (30 foot square with a bench build in around the edge) registered about 42 degrees Celsius on the digital thermometer. The other three hot tubs increased in temperature at about 2 degree increments (the temperatures on the thermometers fluctuated at +/- .5 degrees, relative, I believe, to the number of bodies therein). The hottest two were deserted. There was also a steam room, a dry sauna, and a cool tub. There was also a hot floor with tiny hard square pillow. Naps were being taken there.

I graduated up to the second and then the third and then back down to the second hot pool (I tried them all and could stand even the hottest but it was uncomfortable in the sense that my heartbeat and breathing became labored. I lasted about one minute in the dry sauna, which thermometer read 65 Celsius) and gradually formed a rotation of hot tub, steam room, and cold tub. The water was mineral saturated and had a pretty good salinity. On TVs around the room a video loop showed the drilling that accessed the hot water vent below. Signs proudly stated that the mineral rich waters came from a depth of 864 meters, and I believe it.

I don't know if it was the minerals or the heat or the scrubbing or what, but when I left that place I felt like a new person. If one was feeling depressed or puny, I can think of no better way to do a little self-repair. There were other services (barber and masseuse) as well, but I was content with the basic package. It is nice to know that it is there at the very least. And I think that next time I will be less nervous and can do my lineage more justice.

Don't Come to Busan

2009-01-08T12:48:00.005+09:00

I was very happy to be back to Busan after my recent trip. I remember walking out of Busan station and stopping for a moment and looking out across the plaza to the neighborhood crawling up the mountainside across the way, all of it bathed in bright winter sunlight, and turning to my girlfriend and saying, smiling ear to ear, "Busan is best." "Yep," she said.

I meant it. I have seen mountains and rivers and islands and beaches and markets and entertainment and even a little culture in Korea, some of it better and some of it worse. But for sheer ambiance and variety, Busan has everyplace else I've seen here beat hands down. Now I haven't been everywhere. And some of this might be based on my personal tastes. For one thing, the thought of living in a huge metropolis with a pollution problem and chronic overcrowding is not my idea of quality of life. Sure there might be "more to do," but what good is more to do if the subway is a sardine can. And how much "to do" is enough? That depends on what you like. If you like to club, then maybe this isn't the best. Maybe it is. I don't have any idea. Clubbing has long ago dropped from my list of things to do. If you like sitting by the ocean eating cheap fresh seafood, then maybe you should check Busan. Or if you like your choice between four or five great beaches, Busan might be for you. Temples, we got 'em. Shopping, check. World class symphony orchestra and opera? Not. But you can't have everything. I would like an English language library with current fiction, nonfiction, and a cushy reading lounge, too. But that isn't likely to appear.

I llke going to a cafe in Gwangan and having some tea by the beach and reading in a sunny chair. I like going to Seomyeon and trying something I have never eaten before. I like going to Nampodong and walking around in the market and afterwards lunching at a window table in the fish market. I like sitting quietly in Beomeosa temple and letting 1500 years of the contemplative life soak into me. I like sitting in the bar across from my apartment having deep conversations with my bartender in hand signals drinking something that looks and tastes like a cross between tequila and yogurt. I like slowly cooking the garlic over a two-gallon charcoal grill made out of a tin bucket so that it is roasted to golden perfection just as the galbi is ready to wrap up in the sesame leaves. And then I like wrapping myself up in my blanket and sitting as close to the water as I can without getting wet and going to sleep. That's livin'.

Tripping Down Memory Lane

2009-01-03T09:22:00.003+09:00

Yujin and I took a little trip over the break. We entertained our several options and decided at last to go to Yeosu again and revisit some of the places we had seen there in the days after our first meeting. It was our hope to finally visit Geomundo Island, but we were again foiled by the elements.

We left early afternoon and before we ever walked out the door I was exhausted. I had spent the morning at the bank, paying my bills and sending some money back to the states. For some reason it was a big banking day. When I pulled my number I was 124 and they were serving 91. And there is only one lady who does the wire transfers and she was busy but I informed her that I was waiting and the nice lobby guy (who mopped up the dogshit I had tracked in last time) got a queue going at her desk and it appeared that I was second. I began to contemplate the possibility of auctioning off my now quite valuable #124 but the language barrier and an atypical consideration of self-preservation prevented this.

I was given a paper cup of strong green tea by the nice lobby guy, who, knowing I was there to donate an organ to the fickle whims of the monetary system, went back and put the won/dollar exchange ticker on the big screen and started giving me a blow-by-blow commentary, in Korean and across the width of the bank, to the delight of the hundred or so nationals present whose currency was safely esconsed in shitty Won. As we watched the rate rose and fell and rose and fell and I thought to myself, how are they going to know what rate to pick? I have to sign something and they have to wire something and take something out of my account and put it in the other one and meanwhile this thing is bouncing like Bozo's balls in the Grand Prize Game (yeah, I'll be forty next year). If I worked at the bank and someone was going to get screwed it would not be the bank. Of course, these questions, and many others I would like to ask now go unuttered and I have learned to sit quietly and let the wheels turn around me. It is quite liberating, really, to be helpless.

When my turn came I was delighted to find that the rate had bounced in my favor and I was able to send my penny home through the forfieture of far less Won than last month. When the currency lady was done having her way with my money the nice lobby guy took my fistful of utility bills and tore them into the appropriate shreds and inserted the shreds into the appropriate slot in the bill payer machine and took my bankbook and inserted it into it's special slot and something beeped and a piece of paper I couldn't read was spit out and I was right-o with the electric, internet, and cell phone company. I felt pretty damned responsible at that point, let me tell ya.

Home I went, drained physically and financially, and packed the trusty backpack. I took the camera, travel tripod, the spare batteries and charger, the MP3 and its USB charger, the phone, the extra phone battery and its charger, Volume II of the Complete Sherlock Holmes, Lonely Planet's Korea, my sketchbook, journal, pen, pencils and sharpener and eraser, mini-maglight, identification, reading and sun glasses, and basic toilet. Along with the clothes on my back I took an extra pair of underwear for the five day trip but it turned out I didn't need them. (I bought one pair of socks on the road.) There was plenty of room left for the outer water/wind layer of my Columbia two-piece.

We hit the road. Bus 87 to Yeonsandong Station, subway to Nampodong, express bus to Yeosu. We caught a local down to the Ferry Terminal, which was closed. We looked around and found moderately priced accomodation at the Midojang Yeogwan: quiet for a yeogwan and very clean, excepting the sheets. We then walked across the road to the shopping area and had the variety platter at the New York Hot Dog and Coffee. The hotdogs themselves were good all-beef weiners and the toppings were eclectic but tasty. There was a chili dog, a grilled onion dog, and a curry dog, but we liked the bulgogi dog the best. I wouldn't pass up a chance to eat at this place if you are a homesick hotdog fan.

We woke early the next morning to try to catch the 7:40 ferry out to the island but the nice desk lady told us that the seas were too rough and the ferry might not run for a few days. This got me to thinking: what if we finally get out there and then the ferry is cancelled for a week or two. That would be a lovely phone call: "Hello, KidsClub? Uh, listen. I'm, like, stuck on this island..."

We decided to go back to the place where it all began. This was, afterall, exactly like our first date, and on our first date we got up early at the hotel and went to the ferry terminal and were told "no, the seas are too rough", and we decided to go to the pretty little fishing town by the sea with the beautiful temple on a cliff high above. We got there and got the best room in my favorite hotel, the one with two huge windows overlooking the blue sea and a bathtub with powerful jet-like devices which stir up the water around you in the most pleasant and relaxing fashion. We were told that we were very fortunate to have come on the day we did, because the temple was hosting their annual New Year's Eve festival the following evening and the hotel room we were staying in would have cost three times as much if it were available, which it wasn't. At W50000 the place is an absolute steal anyway, but special event pricing would have placed it beyond our budget. If you want to know where this place is and the name of the hotel and the number of the best room, too bad.

We went down the hill to the little bar with a view and a fire crackling in the big cast iron stove and shucked oysters into our mouths and washed them down with some good cold Korean beer and then went to bed early so as to rise at 6am hike up the mountain to watch the sunrise at the temple. We got up at 6am and hiked up the mountain because the nice hotel guy told us that the sunrise was at 7am. Or that is what I thought he said. He actually said 7:20. And the sun really rose at 7:32 and cleared the haze on the horizon at 7:40, at which point I had been standing on a cliff in the wind over the ocean for 55 minutes, the last 15 of which I don't remember because that part of my brain froze. But I was taking time-delayed still images of the sunrise, one picture per minute, and I counted them afterwards and that is how it works out. We staggered, moaning, down the mountain and got into the hot tub and thawed out. Then we had a three-hour nap and took the bus back to town.

The rest of the trip basically sucked. Here is the condensed version: Bus to Mokpo. Heat on high and children screaming and me steaming in long underwear. Step off bus into driving wet snow. Walk to four bus stops before we find the one downtown to the Lonely Planet's almighty recommended mid-level hotel. Finally locate hotel. Hotel out-of-business. Find other less than optimal accomodations. Go to find food. Expensive dinner too horrible to describe. Make small scene at restaurant. Go back to Yeogwan. Alternately freeze without and burn with heating mattress. Get up. Go to museums. Lonely Planet's almighty recommended restaurant nearby out-of-business. Nice museum guy says walk that way ten minutes: many restaurants. Walk that way three minutes: one restaurant. Walk three minutes: restaurant out-of-business. Eat ramen in museum snack bar. See butterflies and poorly stuffed tiger. And funny shaped rocks. And more funny shaped rocks. And Korean art from five generations of one family (Ok, this part didn't suck). In museum bathroom have first signs of terrible illness. Go to next museum. See ships and boats and nets and etc. Start to feel rather poorly. Take taxi back to yeogwan and am violently ill for the next twenty-four hours. Yujin again saves my life with fluids and tender ministrations. Train home [took the KTX from Mokpo via Daejeon rather than the quicker bus (no bathroom) and the cheaper, direct, Mugunghwa train (but 9.5 hours. wha?)].

The train home was actually wonderful. I have written before about high speed rail. It is an incredible way to travel. It is an absolute travesty that the United States does not have it throughout. And when I finally got home I was able to eat for the first time since Wednesday and that felt good. I have some good pictures which I will post in the photo section. Thanks for reading and good night.

Six Months In Country

2008-12-24T10:33:00.010+09:00

Christmas Day marks six months since I set foot in Korea on June 25th. I can't believe it. Time has certainly flown. Before I came I read, and I believe wrote about since, the stages of culture shock. I am glad I did although it didn't help much. There were times when I thought: "Ok, I have moved on to the next stage." Looking back over the time now I realize that I was always behind a little. The honeymoon lasted longer, the low period was longer and deeper, and the comfortable, homey phase is still kicking in. Going through that, somewhat thoughtfully, has been one of the best things about this. It is amazing to come fresh to a new place and make a home there. Not a literal home but a heart home.

My poor blog has been whimpering in the shadows of neglect for a couple of months. I write when I want and I haven't felt like writing down the day-to-day of the life into which I have now, officially, settled. The holiday calendar in Korea is lumpy: there are no official holidays on the calendar for over three months and so we are in the last weeks of a long slog toward Christmas vacation. This has meant little travel outside of regular trips to Daegu, and I have written about that. So subject matter has been lacking a bit.This should change as a week's vacation and a lot of three day weekends are around the corner.

When I first got here someone told me to treasure my first weeks here. The wonderful terror of that first transition is fast fleeting. I am very happy that I wrote as much as I did during that time. I didn't have to go farther than my own street for material at that point. Every trip to the corner for water seemed like an incredible adventure. Although every day still seems magical and I am constantly aware of being an alien here, my main preoccupations now have returned to what they were before I came here: friends, work, and my Sig other.

Each of these things are of course completely different from before for a variety of noteworthy reasons. Friendships here are intense and brief. You meet people and, because of the surroundings and the relative anonymity of an expat community in a city this size, feel both more willing to open up to them and at the same time free of certain social responsibilities (like a keeping in touch afterwards). And people are always coming and going. There is a sizable group of foreigners here who aren't going anywhere any time soon, but the majority of the people (especially the youngest set) are only here for a year, so close friendships bloom and fade. I have been blessed with some very wonderful friends while I have been here. I have no reason to believe this will not continue. My gregarious nature has been a great asset to me here, perhaps the greatest. People are always shocked that I will literally talk to anyone. It's a hobby.

Work here is also an utterly foreign experience. Prior to coming to Korea I was a dabbler, holding down two or three part-time jobs and playing a lot in between. There was a period when I was very unhappy with my job here and I think this was partly due to the adjustment to full-time employment. There were also times when I felt that they expected too much for what they were paying me and that they took for granted all of the extras I felt I was already putting in. All of this led me to feel dissatisfied with my position and unhappy in general. But I have now come to believe that life is a matter of perception.

The Buddhist texts that I have been reading say "You are what you think." I was obsessed with the thought that I was being exploited, ridiculed, and overworked. In addition, I reached the point of paranoia that I felt my employers were looking for a reason to get rid of me. Maybe they were, because I wouldn't have blamed them. My attitude was horrible. Then, one day, after reading about Right Livelihood, I realized that this job wasn't about me. At all. I had become a captive of my own negativity. By realizing that my own perceptions of my position were the only thing that mattered I made a choice to make this about what I could offer to others, not what they could offer to me. What they owed me and whether or not I was getting it ceased to matter at that point and my job became a source of joy to me, not an anchor. I work for the kids. And they need me. And, more importantly, I need them.

And then there is 손유진 (Yujin), the real bedrock source of joy in my life now. Being around her is like hooking myself up to a battery charger. Her laughter is a like a song that gets stuck in your head. Her smile is like the clouds parting. We have a lot of challenges to face, but I believe that in the end it will all work out. I look forward to sharing many wonderful experiences with her in the future.

There is one sad thing to report. It was with great regret that I bid farewell to my friend Tom this last week. His shipping company had invited him to work in an exchange program and his six months here were up. We met in September and enjoyed many great adventures together, including one memorable trip to Japan. I, and others here, feel his absence. He is a fine individual.

Six months! Merry Solstice everyone!

The Christmas Show

2008-12-19T11:37:00.002+09:00

A great time was had by all at the Christmas Program hosted by KidsClub on Thursday evening. I have posted pictures and they are available in the Photo section. Some of them are from rehearsals on days leading up to the performance. I will relate more of the story behind them soon. Merry Solstice!

If.

2008-12-11T18:27:00.010+09:00

I get most of my news from the New York Times and it was nice to see today on the front page of the online edition that South Korea's central bank has announced yet another massive cut in its prime rate. I am not an economist and I know very little about monetary policy and I am not going to sit here and bitch about how this downturn is affecting poor little me, but from reading the article it has become apparent to me that things are worse than even I thought.

The whole premise of the American bailout is that they can get money from Asia and Europe to plug up the holes. But according to the Times, the double-digit growth period enjoyed by the Chinese economy is a thing of the past. The growth rate in China is expected to drop to as little as 8% next year. This credit crunch will eventually affect the dollar as foreign funds become more and more pricey. That is one side of the Won/Dollar coin. The other is this: for two thousand years South Korea has been the ground meat of a cultural and economic sandwich between Japan and China and that has never been more true than today. Korea also needs capital as an emerging economy and far worse. To compound things, the Korean export economy is far more dependent on Asian demand that of the US.

My complaints about income erosion led my boss to tell me what has become a mantra in South Korea: now is the time to save money. It will bounce back. Wait it out. But what if you have no choice? What if you have to turn your hard won Won into dollars? You want to see grown men cry? Go sit in the waiting room at a Korean exchange bank. As of today the exchange rate is $1/1393. It was sitting at $1/950 when I signed in June. That is a drop of something like a rather large number in front of one of these: %.

So ok. I lied. I am complaining a little. Sorry. But I have a readership (and I really appreciate both of you) and I ultimately have to say how I really feel. People email and ask if coming to Korea is a good idea and I am responding with a resounding "IF." If you don't have to send it home right now. If you are good at saving money and can live frugally. If you enjoy working really, really hard and like teaching for teaching's sake, then by all means get your butt over here. If not, go work at Walmart. You can save a lot of money with your employee discount.

The real problem, of course, isn't the world's economy, but my own personal lack of fiscal discipline. I put off sending anything home as long as I could but I can wait no longer. And IF I would have save more this wouldn't have been as painful but... The economy, the paraphrase the poet who wrote it, is a big shit pie and everyone gets a bite.

So if it is time for dinner, lets look at the entire meal and not just desserts. I have said before and I will say it again: I love this place. The food, the city life, the people. And if you have to live on the cheap somewhere, this is a pretty good place. I could be getting paid in pesos or godforbid American dollars. The inflation rate in Korea is so low that it is actually too low. This is a two-edged sword as well: while the local buying power of your income is steady there is little justification for employers to increase salaries. I am wondering how this currency situation is going to effect salary offerings for foreign teachers. We could, after all, go teach elsewhere. But I predict that as the unemployment rate continues to climb in the US many young people might see this as a great option regardless of the economics and thus serve to hold down demand over here. Or maybe blogs like this one will influence people to take a good hard look at the realities of thier finances before making the jump. This, of course, would have done me little good in June. And I did look at the exchange rate and show it to my friends and go: "Look, it's a goldmine." A goldmine with some serious structural issues maybe, but how was I to know?

The other way to look at it is that there is probably no where to go but up. And the action by the ROK central bank yesterday bears out that they are going to do everything they can to stop the skid. Short of a worldwide economic collapse there has to be a light at the end of the tunnel so coming over here now really wouldn't be all that bad of an idea. If....

Not Another How-to Post

2008-11-18T23:22:00.012+09:00

I was thinking about how to survive in your tiny Busan apartment but then I remembered that many of the youngsters here were surviving in a place just as small with four roommates in college but I am going to write a few pieces of advice anyway if only for the people I know (you know who you are) who could benefit from a bit of motherly nagging.

First: Even if you are happy in your squalor, recognize that your inevitable guests will not be. Do you dishes. How to: if you have a one-holer, and you do, fill the sink with suds and dishes. As you wash them, place them on the counter where you just made a mess (the suds will drain a bit but that will help clean the counter). Arrange artfully. After all the dishes are done drain the sink and put the clean dishes back in. Clean the counter. Lay down clean drip towel. Rinse dishes and arrange artfully on drip towel, making sure that there is room for air circulation. Smoke a cigarette and admire.
Next: Make your bed. This has two effects. First, it causes you to take a basic step toward housekeeping first thing in the morning and this could accidentally lead to others. Second, it gives you a signal that the bed is for sleeping at night. Not at six in the evening or two in the morning. It is, and should be, a special place of sanctuary. Respect it through the ritual of bed-making.
Creature comforts. I am a dude. But even dudes, on solitary nights, might find the presence of candlelight comforting. I am always surprised at how a little soft light and jazz (not smooth jazz, but, like, miles or jarrett) can completely change the atmosphere of a room. If you have the energy, get to a HomePlus and pimp out your bed. Pillows, down, the works. And get some nice towels for god's sake. And a throw blanket to wrap up in. All of this, needless to say, will come in handy when you finally get drunk enough to talk to someone of the opposite sex (or).
Laundry. Just do it. And the more often the betterer. And don't throw your dirty underwear in the hall. Get a basket and put the stuff that needs washed in there. The stuff you can wear again fold and put at the bottom of the clean stack (duh!).
The Bathroom. The shower stall/crapper/toothery/shavities in these apartments present their own special challenges. Anyone who has been ready to go only to sense that they had a facial issue or hair issue has been faced with the following choice: take off your socks or go fix it at work. Solution: I have super-glued a mirror to the exit. This allows me to take one last look at my beautiful mug before launching it into the world while maintaining moisture-free hosiery. And the combination of rubber gloves, a bucket, water, Dawn detergent, stiff bristly brush, and a post-wash bleach spritzer (I have mine in an old Windex bottle [2 parts water/1 part bleach]) will (probably) keep the fungus at bay, unless you live in Nampodong, in which case you should scrub with an old fishing net and sea water.
Beer. A little liquor of an evening can lubricate the proceedings nicely. Just put on some music you favor and tipple. It is fun and makes the room seem comfy yet expansive. Take it from me. And Hite isn't that bad after the first two liters. Never, ever, drink Max or Soju. Especially on a school nite.
Cooking. A little bit of creativity and you can make a home cooked meal in that closet of a kitchen. I made a delicious soup this evening by sauteing onions, garlic, celery, carrot, baby mushrooms, and scallions in a quarter stick of Land of Lakes butter, later adding three cups of water, 1.5 cubes of Knorr's chicken bullion, and a half of a smoked chicken. After that had simmered I pulled out the chicken and threw in some egg noodles. I pulled the meat off the chicken carcass and threw it back in (the meat, i mean [the skin and bones and gristle I remained to the freezer for carcass soup later]). A friend brought a baguette (the ones at Paris Baguette don't suck) and we dined like rednecks at grandma's house. And then I did the dishes.

I could go on but I will save some of my more pointed suggestions for the inevitable eventuality that these don't work. Again, you know who you are.

Unqualified Food Criticism: Dave's Fish and Chips

2008-11-09T22:01:00.003+09:00

Several friends of mine had recommended the breakfast at Dave's so we decided to head out to Jangsan and try it out on Sunday. I have only had an English breakfast a couple of times before and neither time was in England, so what follows is merely the opinion of my own sizable gut.

There were several couples in the cozy place when we arrived. The dining room sat about twenty four and had a huge (and remarkably clean) picture window which offered a pretty nice street view and brought in a lovely morning light with the southern exposure. One wall was decorated with a hand drawn mural depicting a mill on a stream. Painted on another near our table was a hearth with a roaring fire. It was only noon on a Sunday but I still contemplated sampling some of the beers Dave keeps cold in a corner cooler. The list was impressive. I will definitely be going back for dinner.

The food came out quick and hot. Crispy bacon (I like mine a little chewier, but that is a matter of personal taste), hot toast, and a fried egg (this was exactly the way I like it although I wasn't asked: they must have read my mind), were accompanied by baked beans and a grilled tomato slice. It was all delicious and I don't think they had to wash the plate when I got done (no, I didn't lick it...I used the last piece of toast). And a nice hot pot of black tea. And juice. Many of the coffee shops in Busan serve their sugar in liquid form (sugar syrup) and I went for what I thought was a squeeze bottle of that and it turned out to be lemon juice so watch out for that. There is a dispenser of granulated white sugar in the basket as well.

We arrived more around lunch so we took the opportunity to try the specialty as well and the fish and chips did not disappoint. I like my potatoes fried a little bit more but I suspect that they are done medium rare on purpose. The fish was divine. A huge slab with just the right amount of breading done to a golden turn (that phrase courtesy of Mike Madonia in a catfish commercial back home). It was wonderful.

After our meal the proprietor came out and chatted. He has been in Korea for six or seven years and I don't think he's leaving. I probably told him way more than he wanted to know about my life (sorry...its a habit), but he was a very nice fellow who shared with me the physique of someone who knows how to find the bottom of a bowl or a bottle. I look forward to going back and sharing a beer with him soon.

Dave's Fish and Chips is a five minute walk from the Jangsan subway terminal, three if you are hungry. When you leave the subway station look around and find the 2001 Fashion Outlet store. From the corner it sits on walk to the opposite corner (the intersection has the jaywalk crosswalks) and take the sidewalk on the right. It is about half a block past the next stoplight, 2nd floor on the left. Look for a rather small (by Korean standards tiny) red sign. They are open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner on Saturday and Sunday. Tell Dave Joe sent ya!

I'm Only Happy When It Rains

2008-11-08T15:56:00.002+09:00

I have never been a rainy day type person. I am actually a little more mental on cloudy days than I am normally and that isn't good usually (yay! three adverbs) but I love Busan when it rains. This city, for reasons peculiar to itself, really benefits from a bath. It is normally a little dusty, a little grubby, and wears all of its odors maybe a little too proudly. A little rain gives it a shine and softens the stonger smells. It is nice.

And so it has been for the last few days, which have produced a steady drizzle. I don't even need to look. I can hear the rain tread of the tires in the busy street up the alley. I think, BTW that the alley that terminates in at my building is the steepest and shortest in Busan, but this is most certainly wrong. It is certainly fun to navigate when neither of us are too dry (me or the alley).

I went to my first professional basketball game last night, the (Busan) SK Magic Wings versus the team in green. 'Magic Wings' always makes me think of some innovation in feminine hygene but I cannot recall from my subconscious the source of the association. The crowd, like so many here at any sporting event other than baseball, was sparce but enthusiastic. Koreans love to cheer and they aren't afraid to jeer either. Professional Korean sports teams are allowed a limited number of foriegn players, and basketball is no exception. They were each allowed two gigantic African-Americans. Only one was allowed to play in the second and third quarter. we missed the first quarter (Allison, Jiho, and I attended), but when we arrived Busan was about three points down. The center for Busan (who remained in) was a likeable fellow who didn't hog the ball and made some very good assists to his Korean teammates. By the end of the third quarter Busan had built a ten point lead mainly through team defence and excellent passing. The Koreans were not great drivers but they were able defenders and played a complicated pick and pass game akin to the WNBA. The center was several times signalled to stand on the baseline in three point land to draw his counterpart out of the lane, allowing the Koreans to run a successful set play, a role he graciously accepted.

The fourth quarter ushered in the other foreign player, a guy who probably would have played point or shooting guard in the NBA, and who thought (mistakenly) that everyone in attendance had come to see him. He asked for the ball every time down the floor and got it and proceeded to drive on triple teams. He usually ended up either laying on the floor, producing a fast break for the other team or being called for charging. The opponents scored 16 unanswered points and won the game handily. Needless to say I was disgusted.

Afterwards we went down to Yeonsandong (my neighborhood "downtown") and walked the narrow alleys until we found a cute little chicken spot to eat. We ordered the variety platter and it was really good. Allison, my new coworker and apartment neighbor, ordered a pitcher of Soju and fruit punch, and ended up drinking most of it. The chicken was great and I brought the leftovers home. So ended another lovely rainy Friday night in Busan.

What to do if you get sick while teaching in Korea:

2008-11-04T13:05:00.008+09:00

Go to the hospital. Once you have your alien registration card and your physical you are registered into the country's mandatory medical insurance plan. I pay about 37000 won per month out of my paycheck (employer pays the other half) for the coverage and it is well worth it. I have been sick twice since I got here and both times I got fast and effective medical treatment. Today during lunch (this is why I am writing about this) I went to the hospital across the street with a bad cold. I was examined at the door and sent directly to the doctor who diagnosed me with an Upper Respiratory Infection (URI) and wrote me a prescription. I had that filled at the pharmacy down the street and I took a dose and lunchtime isn't even over yet and I feel better already. I can breath at least.

Moral of the story: get your alien card and physical as soon as possible after you arrive and if you get sick (and you will) go to the doctor immediately. I started working on my alien card fairly quickly and it still took almost a month to get everything back (you have to enroll in the medical plan after you get your card and that takes a minute as well). Also, bear in mind that immigration will be holding your passport while they process your alian registration. I had to adjust my travel plans for the first month to compensate for not having a passport. I arrived at the end of June and the school closed for the last week of July and I would likely have gone to Japan if I was sure I would have got my passport back in time.

And at these prices there is no use trying to medicate yourself with over-the-counter meds. The doctor's visit cost me 3500 won and the prescription, which included six doses of four and a half pills each, don't ask me what) cost me 1400 won for a grand total of 4900 won. That is $3.81 in the current exchange value.

Which sadly brings me to my second topic: the exchange rate. I have tried in this blog to avoid any negativity about my experience here in Korea, and there has been very little of it. My job is hard sometimes, but my jobs at home were as well. I love Busan, my beautiful adoptive hometown, and the rest of Korea (what I have seen) is a gem. The people here are wonderful and kind, and there are many other things I could say about this wonderful experience...but there has been one big downside for me.

Korea sends a major portion of their exports to the United States and as a result of the US financial crisis the won/dollar conversion rate has tanked. Since I started watching it last January it has dropped by about 30% against the dollar. It is still very cheap to live here and there is very little inflation to erode my standard of living (which can't be said of other ESL hotspots where I read that you may go from comfortable to desperate in the course of a one year contract) but I have financial responsibilities and waiting till the currency rebounds (which it almost certainly will eventually) is not an option for me. If you are in the same situation, bear that in mind when looking at your contract: if you need US currency look at the current exchange rate when contemplating a budget. Of course, there is not way to predict what will happen in six months, but is is worthwhile to see what you are working with if you have an immediate need for dollars.

Here is a link to the English language website of the Korean National Health Insurance Corporation (turn down your volume before clicking or you will get blasted with a special video message that's set to stun).

Hallowe'en and Other Funtime Pictures.

2008-11-03T08:25:00.004+09:00

Here's a set of pictures from the last two weeks or so. Included are: a kite-flying trip to the beach, a soccer game, and Hallowe'en at work. Enjoy!

KoreaPics23

Holding my Breath

2008-11-03T07:39:00.004+09:00

One of the things I am most grateful for about coming to Korea is that I dodged the brunt of another presidential election. I do keep up on the news back home but I am never in a situation where I am forced to watch Fox "news" out of the corner of my eye (Sangamo Club) or listen to Rush Limbaugh sound bites (Cardinal games on WTAX). These things I don't miss. Even filtered however, news of this election has been disheartening. I and others (notably The Economist, my primary print source of international news) thought that this election had the potential, because of the two candidates, to be an above the belt affair. Sadly, this potential has not been realized. I had a great deal of respect for McCain prior to this election. I didn't always agree with his views but I felt that he was frank about them and had the kind of integrity woefully lacking in the rest of his party's leadership. All that went out the window with the nomination of Sarah Palin, about whom less said's the better. It seems since that time McCain has lost what little control over the character assassins heading his campaign. There have, to be fair, been warnings from many Republican operatives that Palin might permanently destroy the party, but this, sadly, is unlikely. This election, should it lead to a Democratic victory, will likely spell the end of a NeoCon minority controlling the Republican party, as it has for the last 25 years, and this can only be good for everyone. Indications are that the Christian right, fiscal conservatives, and Purple state labor have finally seen through the lies and are prepared to defect. If so it would mean the end of the Hannitys and Rowes. I should probably wait to post this until after the election but what the heck. I am a blogging maverick.

Thank You Kenya!

2008-10-24T11:59:00.004+09:00

I have been waiting and waiting for a legit hit from Africa and I finally got one today. Someone from Kenya looked at my blog. I thought about calling Saudi Arabia or the United Arab Emirates Africa but they are Asia. So now I have been read on every continent but Antarctica and that doesn't count. Some of you might wonder why this is important to me and why it should be important to you and why I am writing about who reads my blog and they answer to that is simple. I am vain.

The other answer is that I want certain people to know that a lot of people apparently find what I write interesting enough to check it out. Many, many people read this blog and many of you have taken the time to write and say hi or even to ask me questions. The last post, on teaching, generated some interesting emails from people who were teaching in Korea who had similar or dissimilar experiences and a couple of people who were thinking about coming over and had questions. I wish that I had done that and I am glad to help in any way I can. And if the last post came off negative I am sorry. I love it here and coming to Korea is the best decision I have ever made. It isn't easy and there are bad days but most of the time it is a dream. I wouldn't trade my time here for anything.

It rained here for a few days but today there is a high blue sky and visibility is incredible. From my classroom window I can see ships out on the ocean and that must be at least 10k. I have been going out for guy night every Thursday with Tom for a couple months and last night Brian joined us. Steamed pork and the batting cages. Tom and I have been hitting at least once a week and I am not joking we are getting pretty good. Last night I changed Tom's grip and he was cranking them. The pitching machines throw like Bob Gibson. I didn't hit much in the USA so I don't have a point of reference but these machines are wild. I mean throw at your head wild. A couple are consistently high but the one I usually hit (the fastest: 140kph) throws mostly strikes with the occasional beaner. The lefty machine threw a Rick Ankiel last week (about twenty feet high and outside). That will keep you on your toes.

I am now the only male teacher (out of thirty) since Clayton left and that is kind of weird. I have to go get the rice by myself now. Carrying two stacked pots of rice and water up six flights of stairs every morning is good for me. This morning the cook filled my pockets with tangerines as I left the kitchen.

Yujin had midterms this week and I can tell talking to her on the phone she is utterly exhausted. She is coming to Busan tonight on the train and I am going to give her some TLC and relaxation tonight. I think we are going to fly kites this weekend. I bought some small ones and Brian has a stunt kite and I think we are going to Daedaepo. It is a very wide beach with lots of room to run around. I think the water has gotten to cold to swim but I might try. Hopefully I won't get burnt.

Teaching English in Korea

2008-10-17T09:19:00.012+09:00

I have been waiting a while to write this post. I wanted to see how things shook out and to let time mellow my perspective. Let me say first: I am not an expert on teaching in Korea. There are people who have been here for many years and if I were to seek out advice on the subject I would search out someone with far more experience than me. I will even put you in touch with them if you want. That said, what follows are merely my perspectives on the topic.

If I had it all to do over again I don't think I would teach at a hagwan. Not if I really wanted to teach and I think I do. A hagwan is a business, and as such has a responsibility to its clients to provide them with what they want. There are two ideas at work in this business/education dynamic. I am not an economist, but I am familiar with the principle that it is more important to provide a customer with what they really want, not what they say they want or mistakenly believe they want. This is one thing. The other thing to consider is who the customer is. This is really where the complication begins because at a hagwan there are two sets of customers with conflicting desires. The children are the front line clients, the ones who directly receive the services we provide, and they want one thing: fun. This is fine. They are kids. The parents want their children to learn English. Or this is what they say they want. But Korean parents, and Korean society in general, have a belief that childhood is a time for happiness. They take this seriously, and if a kid says she isn't enjoying her classes they pay attention. Korean children, in the company of their parents, are generally allowed to run amok. I like this approach to childhood. I am actually very good at providing the children with this service: I can have fun and run amok with the best of them. I can also teach English. I am rather good at it and have been doing it for some time.

The problem is doing both: even an unbalanced blend seems impossible at times. Because when you have a classroom full of kids laughing and talking and having fun, discussing the quirks of English articles is not going to work. They won't even hear you. Learning English, at least at the third and fourth year level, is hard. It involves memorization of a massive vocabulary, the comprehension of a syntax completely different (in the case of Korean and Japanese) from their native form, and, in addition, the mastery, or at least comprehension, of the base material (for example, I have two classes that use science textbooks to learn ESL, so those kids have to get the taxonomy of invertebrates [not a simple thing] while trying to learn English).

The classes in the morning, 7-year-old first and second year ESL students, are easy to entertain and it is possible to use stealth education techniques. The 9- and 10-year-old third and fourth year students in the late afternoon aren't bad either. They are trained as learners by now and wouldn't be here if they didn't want to be.

It is the four classes at the beginning of the afternoon that are a bitch. These are older (8-9) kids who are just coming to English for the first time. Some of them are second year and didn't get anything the first year and are sinking. Some of them are really bright 9-year-olds and reading about Herbert Hippo and Tess Tiger going on a picnic is not ever going to stimulate them to learn or behave. So I end up with half of the class really struggling and needing what amounts to individual attention as challenged learners and the other half needing individual attention as disciplinary problems arise because they are bored out of their minds. And if that isn't bad enough (and it is), there are the parents who want to know why their genius child is bored or standing in the corner or can't speak one sentence of English after two years of expensive lessons or has homework every night or comes home and says he hates English class and never, ever wants to go back because it isn't "fun."

So this job is really frustrating sometimes. Sometimes I wish I would have taken the advice of my recruiter and taught at the university level, four classes a week and two months vacation. I imagine: no unrealistic parents, no unmotivated learners, no ddongchim in my hemorrhoid, no smart-asses. There are also times when I am having a bad day and I feel a little hand slip into mine and a little black pair of Asian eyes looks up into mine and they say "Why are you sad?" And the funny thing is, at that point I have to say I don't know.

Gyeongju Part II

2008-10-15T20:46:00.000+09:00

Gyeongju was the capitol of Shilla, a kingdom that ruled the southern Korean peninsula for nearly a thousand years. The dynasty was formed there in 57 BC and remained in power until 930 AD. This city at one time topped one million inhabitants, then making it one of the largest cities in the world. In 668 the two other kingdoms on the peninsula (Goguryeo in the area now controlled by North Korea and the Baekje centered around the Seoul area) were subdued and Korea was first united under one ruler. The kingdom was weakened by factionalism within and pressure from another kingdom in the north until in 930 a Goguryeo military leader, Wang Geon, defeated Shilla and once again united the continent under his dynasty, Goryeo (from which the name Korea is derived). This dynasty lasted until its overthrow in 1392. The succeeding dynasty, founded by Yi Seong-gye, lasted till 1910, when the country was occupied by Japan. (This historical information from the Lonely Planet and travel pamphlets.)

Over the last thirty years the Korean government has made monumental efforts in the recovery, preservation, and restoration of the thousands of structures and artifacts located in the Gyeongju area. History is incredibly popular in Korea, and they rightfully feel proud of the relative stability of their kingdom throughout history. Whenever I have the opportunity to flip channels on Korean TV I invariably find a few channels devoted to historical documentaries and dramas based on the ancient era. Koreans also love to travel, and Gyeongju is a choice destination for many people. When we were there the place was packed, but there are so many sites to see and they are so open that it didn't seem too overused. Only at Seokguram, where there is one way in and one way out and only room for maybe twenty people to look at a time, was it a real problem.

And the curators of the place have done a good job to balance the reverence and respect necessary for things like tombs and temples with the entertainment value and crowd control necessary for high volume tourism. The city itself has made an attempt to maintain the feel of an ancient city. The two most obvious ways are in the restriction of multi-story buildings around the historic sites and the insistence on traditional roofing in those areas. Many people, wanting the traditional experience to extend to their palette will dine at one of the many restaurants near the historic sites offering "traditional Korean food." I couldn't tell the difference between "traditional" and "modern" Korean food and that is telling. Korean food is excellent across the board, and if the adage holds then "if it ain't broke don't fix it."

Here are the things we saw while in Gyeongju, in no particular order:

Cheomseongdae: This is "the Far East's oldest astronomical observatory. We went to this site twice, once on foot and a second time on a tour bus that duplicated couple of the previous day's path. I mention this because the tour guide had to explain to us why we were parking so far away. The observatory, because of nearby traffic among other causes, had begun to tip slightly a la Piza. This is particularly problematic for an astronomical observatory obviously. Various stones and their arrangement indicate the various components of the astronomical system as they were understood when the structure was built in the seventh century. I was interviewed by a college student when we visited the first time and he asked me what I thought the significance of this place was. I told him that while his culture was practicing actual science my ancestors were burning people at the stake for even postulating that the earth might not be flat or at the center of the universe. (If you want more technical information about this and other sites in the list I have linked to Wikipedia above.)
Anapji Pond: When this site was reconstructed in 1975 researchers were delighted to find out that many of the original artifacts and archetectural components had ended up in the pond. As it was dredged and rebuilt they foudn ceramics, fixtures, wooden beams, and foundation stones from the palace. It was originally built to be a "pleasure garden to commemorate the unification of the Korean peninsula under Shilla" (LonePlan 200).
Bulguksa: With construction beginning in 528, this sprawling temple complex in the mountains south of Gyeongju has been called the "crowning glory of Shilla temple archetecture." It is situated in the midst of beautiful gardens and landscaped grounds. A pond with a beautiful bridge and grotto lay between the main gate and the temple complex. Huge courtyards surrounded by an arcades hold the two main temples. Others are accessible only by climbing incredibly steep stairways. Monks were painting in the courtyard of the temple highest up the mountain. It was a beautiful place. If I am able to do a temple stay at some point I would like to do it here. Buddhists from all over Asia have been making pilgrimage to this place for centuries. The Wiki for this site is particularly well done.
Seokguram: Like Bulguksa, Seokguram has a place on the Unesco World Heritage List. This is the only historic site that I had previous knowledge of before coming to Korea. The huge stone Buddha at this site was one of two or three depicted in the Asian section of the Humanities 101 textbook I taught with at Lincoln Land. It was truly amazing to see this in person. The Buddha sits in a stone rotunda that is partially carved into the side of a mountain. The Bhudda itself sits 3.5 meters tall and overlooks the sea from its mountain perch at 750 meters above sea level. Since times of old he has been regarded as a protector of the nation.
Cheonmachong: One of the many tomb mounds, or tumuli, in Gyeongju, this one has been escavated and is open to the public. Half of the tomb's core has been removed, allowing visitors to see how the tombs are constructed. Wooden beams box the burial chamber, which in this case was about 3x5m. There were many gold artifacts unearthed from the tomb and replicas were on display, including golden crowns, diadems, and breastplates, painted horse tackle, and bronze table service.

There were other things, including a group of traditional dancers, which were talented and beautiful to behold. All of these things are viewable in the picture album posted here. Thanks for reading.

Haedong Yonggungsa and Songjeong Beach

2008-10-14T13:14:00.005+09:00

This Sunday past Yujin and I went for a short trip to Haedong Yonggungsa. The temple is located in a place that (I think at least) is geographically significant. I think of the point it sits on as being the southeastern corner of the squarish bottom of Korea. Why this is important to me is because when I first can here I had a very difficult time getting my cardinal points straight in my head. Part of this is due to the Korean idea of space and its measure and marking (the streets here don't have names and they have a habit of printing maps without regard to the compass so north isn't always on top). It is also due to the fact that I somehow got it into my head that Busan stood on the easter shore of the peninsula. It doesn't. It faces the sea in an almost due southerly orientation. I have slowly reoriented my head, but once you screw something like that up you never really get it right again.

The beach was nice. I would like to go there again. There were a few hotels on the strip and some restaurants but the whole scene was a lot less built up than Haeundae or Gwangan. There was even a little surf shop that rented kayaks. Next time I am taking a kite.

The temple was crowded but beautiful nontheless. It seemed like more of a wishing well than a temple I fact, the temple was reached by a large granite bridge spanning an ocean gorge and there was a pool at the head of the gorge with a Buddha in the middle holding a bowl and people were chucking money off of the bridge at a hectic pace, trying to hit that bowl. I emptied my pockets. There were also little places to pray and light candles and incense all over. Several of the statues are accorded special powers. The Buddha whose belly I am touching is supposed to grant male heirs. I don't want any heirs of either sex but we will see what happens.

There are quite a few pictures and they are posted here. I tried to take a variety of shots, landscapes and close-ups. I have been watching photography lessons on You Tube. I hope my photography is improving but it is not my strong suit. Yujin has a real knack for finding artistic subjects so if you see a very good one it is probable that she took it.

There Was a Farmer Had a Dog

2008-10-14T12:52:00.003+09:00

We just got back from the best field trip we have been on. The director (owner) of the school (daycare) owns a farm (house and garden) near Gijang and we went there for the children to get a taste of the country life. They shelled beans (the red soy variety that goes into the red bean sauce), dug potatoes, dug peanuts, picked about a peck of peppers, and generally had a great time. I loved it. After we were finished in the garden they took me into the courtyard of the house where they were in the middle of a variety of industries: drying peppers and beans, salting vegetables for kimchi, and picking the seeds out of huge cucumber-ey looking things (they use the dried membrane around the seed to scrub dishes). I told Jenny teacher to ask if I could stay and the lady who lived there said something that made everyone laugh and Jenny translated it as "you can live here with me," but I think it was maybe something more suggestive. They told me I can go there anytime I want and I think I will. There is a bus (181) that goes right to the gate. About ninety percent of the gardens were given over to the cultivation of three crops: cabbage, peppers, and sweet potatoes. There were also peanuts, onion, eggplant, and a few things I didn't recognize. The mountains closely surrounded the farm but it was on the southern face of the hillside so it was light and warm. The mountains across the valley were cool and dark. In the valley below workers were in the fields haresting cabbage. It is the time of year now when everyone puts up their stock of kimchi for the year. The kimchi made now, properly salted and buried in the ground in huge crocks, will last until next year this time. I am not a fan of the "ripe" kimchi that is everywhere now, as it has been fermenting for almost a year. I like the fresh stuff. Hopefully that will be more common soon. We tried some pickles at the farm that the farm lady had made and they were delicious. Along one side of the garden was a vine covered place to sit, and I think I might go there and sit under it soon. Next time I will take my camera.

Gyeongju Part I

2008-10-09T22:43:00.004+09:00

Although Busan and Daegu and Gyeonju roughly form a triangle I thought it would be nicer to travel together so I took the train to Daegu after work Thursday night. Friday was National Foundation Day (3 October 2333 BC Tan-gun left his heavenly home and bear-mother and formed the Choson dynasty and, as a result, Korea). Yujin had a class till 9:30 but she ditched the end of it and we went out for some dinner: makjang, table grilled pig intestines sliced into little rings which I actually like quite a bit if they are cooked at least medium-well. I stayed at the same hotel by the station and the same old lady asked me if I wanted a sex-partner and I again said no and it felt like home.

They had been giving me a room on the fifth floor with a view of the dirty back of the hotel behind and I, habitually convinced I am being screwed, had determined to get one of the nicer rooms I had seen on the street side down on the second floor (the first floor is a couple of restaurants). Well I found out that night that they had actually been doing me a favor because the second floor is a very busy place. I heard things I am still trying to forget and I think I actually started dreaming even worse things and as a result I am not sure what was what. And there was some confusion anyway when I told them I wanted to be on the second floor they showed me the clipboard and I thought the ones with the checkmarks were open and I pointed to one of them and they looked at me real funny and took me up there anyway and got out the house key (bad sign) and unlocked the door and there was a pile of shoes inside the door (worse sign) and strange noises were clearly audible. I said "AnnEEEEEEE!" ("NOOOOOO!!!") and we slammed the door and took off down the hall and ducked into the first open door and that became my room. Never again.

There were no seats on the train so we got a couple of tickets on the bus for the following morning (3300W! [$3.30]). It was a nice trip and quick. On the way there we got out the old LonePlan and called around to some hostels and motels and I wanted to stay in the Hanjin Hostel which is supposed to be super cool but they didn't really have couples-type accomodations so we got a room down the street from there at the Taeyang-jang Yeogwan (30000W) and when we got there we found the fella to be very nice and the room even nicer. It was decorated with genuine imitation Victorian furniture and had a huge bed and a nice big brand new bathroom with a nine headed shower, not counting the hand-held. Lovely.

I am skipping over a couple of things that we saw because I want to put all of the sightseeing in the next post together. The rest of this post I want to devote to Friday's lunch and the afternoon's entertainment.

At lunch we went to Kuro Ssambap. The parking lot and the entryway were surrounded by cages filled with exotic birds and the foyer had a strange set of figurines set up in a display of folkways. There were also stuffed birds (former members of the menagerie outside?) and a large collection of interestingly shaped rocks. This is a hobby of Chinese origin (called suseok I think in Korean) practiced of old by the aristocracy: the collection and artful display of rocks that vaguely, and I mean very vaguely, resemble something else. I have seen these before (in Mokpo), and it always seems to me that there must have been a rock somewhere which more resembled a horse or whatever it is supposed to be, but that part of the deal was that you really had to squint to see it. If it was too close, it ruined it. That is the way it seems to me anyway. For all of this (I didn't even mention the souvenir stand), the real show is the food. The goal of ssambap is to fill the table. It is considered crappy ssambap if you can fit any more dishes on the table when they are finished carrying it all out. And that was the first thing that amazed me. The speed at which the staff got the food out. The first lady brought out three or four of the larger items and the second lady brought all the rest on one big shiny aluminum tray. It all fit together like a puzzle. These trays, I could see in the kitchen, were stacked to the ceiling along the walls and they got one down and put the hot items on there and muscled it out. And these gals were not big either. They bussed the tables just as quick. All the dishes nestled together and everything fit just so and back it went. I don't like to think about that because we ate about one fourth of the food they brought and the economic reality of the situation is that it all went back and got recycled. But anyway...

The food. I took the time, with Yujin's help, to write it all down. This is a good primer into the basic principle and selection of Korean restaurant service. All Korean meals include up to a dozen refillable side dishes, called banchan. These vary from restaurant to restaurant and most places change at least some of the dishes regularly based on season or the whim of the proprietor. Some of them are very strange, and some of them are not very tasty to my palette at least, but I like to try new ones anyway and I have found that some things I was almost positive I wouldn't like were absolutely delicious. So, in the picture above, starting in the top right corner, here is the line-up (apologizing in advance for inaccuracies and misspellings. Yujin even had to guess on a couple of identifications and my notes have corrections made after tastings. I also apologize for the photograph, which is slightly out of focus and will not justify much magnification, although you can try by clicking on it):

songpyeon: traditional Korean rice cakes. Like eating Playdough. Yujin loves them ("I'm Korean") and ate all four of these.
Sesame leaf, blanched.
Sesame leaf, pickled with kochujang (see below).
Yujin's rice pot.
Yujin's soup.
Cucumber kimchi.
Yujin's rice water. Don't ask.
Fresh greens (for wrapping and flavouring). Lettuce, kale, dandelion, cilantro.
(row two, beginning on the right) Oysters in kochujang. I am guessing on the seafood. When you order hoe, the Korean raw fish banquet, the sides often include a selection of gutted sea squirts, sea cucumbers, and sea snails. It could have been one of those but I thought I recognized something about them and am calling it oyster. Complex and delicate taste and texture.
Small dried anchovies with tiny hot green peppers in rice vinegar and sesame oil. These little boogies were hot, now. I made Yujin a wrap and snuck some of this in and asked her if it was hot: "I'm Korean."
Spinach cooked in soy sauce with sesame oil and sugar.
Small dried anchovies in kochujang. These little fish add a nice salty flavour to a wrap. The kids at school often have a fistful for their morning snack.
Beef boiled with soy sauce. Dry but delicious.
Larger whole anchovies in a pepper sauce.
Lemongrass pickle, we thought.
(row three, right) Paek kimchi. This is the white cabbage kimchi. Less spicy, more sour notes.
This plate holds two kinds of kimchi. The one on the right is similar to the gat kimchi sold in Hyangiram. It is made of what I think are mustard greens and has a slightly mustardy marination. The other is the traditional red cabbage variety, called baechu kimchi.
Whole fish, lightly battered and fried. This definitely fell into the "better than it looks" category. It was light and fresh and surprisingly meaty. This, and the next five dishes (excepting the sauces and egg pot), comprised the main courses of the meal.
Pork bulgogi. Absolutely wonderful. Just a little fat and cooked down in a sweet, spicy marinade.
This and the next, adjacent the bulgogi, are the ketchup and mustard of Korean cuisine. First, on the right, is red bean sauce, made from soybeans and red pepper. Mildly spicy, it is a key component in many soups and stews and goes well with anything in wraps.
The other sauce, kochujang, is red pepper paste. I have both of these sauces in the fridge at home. I have come to really love this one, however. It is a reduction of red pepper powder and glutinous rice flour. Very hot, very sweet. Some varieties add in some garlic and I like those the best. I eat it in everything. Tonight for supper I had kochujang tuna salad over tomatoes (I found some!).
Beaten egg soup in a hot pot. Some of these are more soup, less egg. This one was all egg. They heat the pot up till it turns red and pour in the liquid (usually salty chicken or fish broth) and then drop in the egg. It is still boiling away when they bring it out.
Same with this. It is doenjang jjigae, which means soybean paste (think miso, but stronger) stew. It had seaweed and bean sprouts and was really good. This might have been Yujin's single favorite dish. Guess which one was mine?
Not this one: rice porridge. I don't remember if this one had much in it. I have had very good rice porridge, but for me the texture has to be just right and I like mine with seafood and vegies. To gritty and I think grits, too smooth and it feels unfoody. I think now that if it wasn't in the picture I just would have clean forgotten it.
Pajeon. Green onion pancake. If I could have got the nerve up to ask for a refill of anything (which is not only allowed but usually appreciated), it would have been this. I get this whenever I can. The batter is more crepe than pancake, crispy on the edges and gooey in the middle. Many times served with chopped octopus: fantastic. (After writing all of this my mouth just now started watering.)
(row four, right) Cucumber pickles.
Mushrooms. These and a dish on the next row were served in a white marination of a kind I have not encountered. It tastes good, but something about it seems, well, alive. (I am sure corrections will be forthcoming so hold on.)
Pickled fish. Tiny raw filets in a spicy brine, almost a sweet ceviche. But not quite. It was another good wrap ingredient. I think we ate all of it.
Clear noodles with tofu. Classic, simple and delicious.
Bean sprouts.
Bracken. She looked up the Korean word in her cell phone translator and that is what it said.
(bottom row, right) Silverware. This is how it comes.
My rice water.
My soup.
My rice pot.
Long beans in the mysterious white marinade.
Bell flower. Translator again.
Blanched greens (for wrapping). White cabbage, kelp, and turnip greens (my favorite, excepting sesame leaf).

Well there you have it. I meant to get to the entertainment tonight but that ain't happenin'. There are pictures up now and you can view them here.

Name That Fruit

2008-10-08T20:19:00.006+09:00

I thought it would be nice, given the title of the last post, to contradict myself and literally eat some raw fruit just to show the world (and I guess myself too) that I am not a chickenshit and can still eat raw fruits and vegetables in Korea. I just don't know what I am eating. I meant to buy some tomatoes to go with my canned tuna. I got off the bus one stop early and went to the street vendor there and bought these beauties. I got them home and started cutting them up and noticed immediately that they don't have seeds. I thought: "Hey, I like seedless tomatoes! Wait. Seedless tomatoes?" Then I tasted one. It ain't tomato. I have no idea what it is. They are actually quite good. A bit of mellow sweetness and a very light flavor. The closest I can come to the taste is cantaloupe, but that isn't right either. If you know what they are let me know, and if you need a better look, click the pic.

By the way. I scrubbed them with soap.

I had intended to get a post on my trip out tonight, since it will be Sunday before I can work on it again. But when I plugged my card into the computer I realized I had 535 pictures. I want to publish the photos with the posts and it will take a little time to get through them. Some of them are rather good I think and I want to work on them a bit. So bear with me. There will be a Gyeongju post shortly.

Don't Eat Raw Fruit or Vegebles In Korea. Ever.

2008-10-06T18:56:00.003+09:00

I woke up Sunday morning in Gyeongju feeling bad. Really bad. I got out of bed and immediately threw up the entire contents of my stomach. And then some. At first I cursed the soju which I had drank the night before but it soon became apparent that this was not alcohol poisoning. I had only drank maybe five beers and a couple of sojus the previous evening and that would not ever make me throw up. This was something worse. Far worse.

I had read in the Lonely Planet and on the CDC website the warnings about eating raw fruits and vegetables in Korea and I had scoffed. This was a horrible mistake. The night before we had visited a bar and as part of the "service" one is always provided they gave us some cucumbers and grapes. I had eaten of the poisoned fruit.

The immediate problem, aside from my impending death, was that we had tickets for the train that morning. I was so sick I could barely walk. I begged Yujin to go without me, to leave me to die. She refused and packed everything and dressed me and helped me out to the curb. We flagged a taxi and I limped from the cab stand to the platform and got a can and a half of Pocari Sweat down me. I threw this up soon after the train left and spent most of the next hour and a half in the tiny train toilet alternately standing up and sitting down and sometimes both. I was really hurting bad: horrible abdominal cramping, dripping with sweat, aching all over, green. And the train stopped like ten times and I wasn't sure where we were so every time it slowed down for a station I got myself together a bit and went to wake up Yujin (gods bless her) and ask her if we were there yet.

We weren't. The air conditioner in our car was broken so the conductor kept fiddling with the electric console (right outside of the bathroom is why I know) and he finally rigged up the fans or something but we were the first car behind the engine and the fans sucked in the diesel fumes. This really helped. As did the fifty screaming children on their way to the beach. By the time we got there the car was empty but for a few seats, including the one behind me, and I will tell you how sick I was: this Person had a bag of chips or something and the sound of the bag crinkling was sending waves of nausea through me. I muttered curses about it and I think Yujin must have said something to him because the sound stopped but I am not sure because the sickness had gotten worse and worse and I was delirious.

We then faced the walk to the terminal (the car closest the the engine of course being the furthest from the 150 steps up to the station. There was a down escalator.) We got a cab and I somehow made it home before I threw up again outside my apartment in front of three of my neighbors and the Chinese delivery guy. Yujin had seen enough by this point and shooed me up to my apartment and went to get the "medicine" I had to this point been refusing. She came back from the pharmacy with two pills, a small brown bottle, and a tiny brown vial with a rubber cork in it. She told me to drink half of the brown bottle with the pills and then she uncorked the vial and poured that in the bottle and shook it up and I drank that. It tasted like the distilled contents of a compost heap. I felt better immediately.

I asked her about it later. She said she described my symptomology to the "pharmacist" (these pharmacies don't sell prescription medicine) and he went back behind the counter and started mixing. There has been previous mention in this blog of secret serums (see the sea-sickness episode) and I am now a believer.

I spent the next twenty-four hours in bed. I am a complete baby when I am sick, but Yujin seemed to think this was heaven: her very own patient! After the nausea and diarrhea went away I developed a pretty high fever. She put cold rags on my head and put another one in a Ziplock in the freezer and put that one under my neck and made me soup and made me eat a little of it. She stayed Sunday night instead of going back to Daegu and I woke up periodically to the feel of her little hand on my forehead. She is an angel. I don't know what would have happened if I had not had her here. I think I really could have died. I drank almost four liters of water last night and today and I still feel dehydrated.

This was the end of a wonderful weekend at Gyeongju, the ancient capital of the Silla kingdom, a dynasty that ruled the peninsula for a thousand years. I have many wonderful pictures and stories to relate and they will be coming forthwith. Peace.

They Take a Pair of Scissors...

2008-09-28T19:54:00.007+09:00

It has been a quiet week for the most part. I had the end of the month paperwork to do at work, which filled the few minutes around classes and the week seemed to go quickly. I went out with friends a couple of nights and Yu Jin came to visit on Saturday. That really about covers it.

I guess I have to admit that the trip to Japan affected my view of Korea more than I thought. It would have been easy enough to begin to look at things differently, but seeing firsthand an Asian culture with a little more (ok, a lot more) affluence really knocked the shine off of things around here. I still don't really understand a lot of things about Korea and going to Japan made me ask a lot more questions. This is an old culture, far older than the one I come from, so it is difficult for me to find perspective. And at the bottom of it all this is still a very beautiful country with incredibly warm people. The city can be shabby and in places dirty but it also has its little gem neighborhoods and a stunning natural setting. And to be fair, my tour of Japan was far from comprehensive. I will keep trying to figure out what I mean and try to say it at some point without sounding superior (which I really don't feel anywhere here in Asia).

I spent about four hours today sitting at the cafe Yu Jin and I have made a habit of take brunch at on Sundays. It is right on the beach (Gwangali) and looks straight out at the bridge. I like to read and sip tea. She did homework today and drinks coffee. It is a lovely setting. The days have become a bit cool now, and I broke out my fleece for the first time today. It was nice to sit on the terrace and read. Sailboats were out in the bay and further out the big freighters were loping by either toward the port or away. Above the seacoast cliffs off to the west a group of para gliders were looping through the updrafts in slow turns. I counted nine at one time.

The brunch is simple. In addition to the tea and coffee there is toast and scrambled eggs, soup, tater tots, vegetables, and mini-make-em-yerself pizzas on garlic toast. I use the pizza fixings to make melty omelets. The little salad bar is highlighted by honest to god tomatoes. Pastries and cookies and tofu-rice pockets (what are they called?) are also available. And at 6600W I think it is a great deal, especially since they don't care if you sit there for three hours and drink four cups of tea.

Saturday we went to a Giants game. Before that we went to the gymnasium across the street from the stadium to see what the TreX Games were about. It was billed as a gathering of traditional sports from all over the world. At the gymnasium there was a Thai boxing competition underway, and the field was indeed international. I saw flags from countries I didn't recognize, as well as Mexico, Iran, USA, France, Russia, and Serbia. The Iranian team fielded a female boxer who came into the ring wearing (I am not making this up) a BURKA under her boxing outfit. She then proceeded to beat the crap out of some girl with a blond ponytail. I took the opportunity to enlighten Yu Jin about female circumcision and she agreed that this could account for the girl's hostility.

Next weekend is a three-dayer and I am going to Gyeongju, the ancient capital of the Silla monarchy and home to several UNESCO world heritage sights. Next weekend is also the opening of PIFF, the Busan International Film Festival so we are going to try to catch a few films as well. Should be a busy weekend.

The Weekend in Pictures

2008-09-22T23:19:00.002+09:00

This post contains a haphazardly selected group of photos taken over the last few days. They were taken at Somyeon, Gwangali Beach, and Nampodong, among other places, and have been partially captioned. Say "Kimchi!" KoreaPics18

Fukuoko, Japan. Bonus Pics!

2008-09-19T18:57:00.002+09:00

Here are some pictures that Tom took of our trip to Japan (the captions are in German). I think that his are better than mine and he got the biggest Buddha. Enjoy!
Tom's Japan Pics

Fukuoka, Japan. Part II

2008-09-16T22:10:00.008+09:00

Thus began my favorite part of the day: the archaeological building, sports grounds, Fukuoka castle ruins, and Ohori Park, with its beautiful lake and Japanese garden. It is worthwhile to note that the pace of our trip and the direction it took were the accomplishment of Tom. He had a pretty good plan and he kept us moving. I could not believe the ground we covered in one day. I'd had a bad time the previous night with my nethers but I was determined not to be inhibited on my one full day in Japan so I took some supportive measures on Sunday and this really helped (thanks WebMD momma!). I also took the time to rest periodically and Tom was kind about that. By the end of the day we had walked from Hakata Station to Hawk's Town and my dogs were barking a good one. Luckily, I knew an electronics store with a full-body massage chair.

Tom eats about every two days. I eat about every two minutes. I think, and I told him, that the best way to experience a culture is to put it in your mouth. He allowed this point, if for no other reason than that if I was eating at least I would render myself unable to speak. We looked around and quickly found a noodle shop and went in and sat down. We stood back up and were directed to a vending machine by the door with the menu and prices. We picked a couple of things out and stuck in our money (Y550) and gave the ticket and shortly were delivered steaming grub. I got the special (see the picture) and Tom got something with some crispy noodles. I ate a bite. It was all good. Sides of fried dumplins. Green tea.

On through the shopping district and, after finding a present (a little cherry tree made out of copper wire with rose quartz petals), we broke through to the Fukuoka-jo archaeological area. Tom, walking blind, hit it smack on. We went down an uneven path bordered by a ditch populated by giant koi and trees occupied by a group of huge blue-black ravens. They apparently thought we were hilarious.

And I must have appeared strange to to the birds and all the bird-like zero-body-fatted peoples of Japan, but they don't stare and point like the Koreans. A friend of a friend, female and apparently attractive (I haven't met her), told Tom that she didn't want to live here for much longer because she didn't want to fall victim to what she called the "princess syndrome." Males and females alike she had seen afflicted by an artificially high sense of self-esteem because of the attention: they get a big head, in other words. I, not being the typical "stylishly skinny, twenty-something, just-graduated, hot-enough-to-club-anywhere" type foreigner, have felt something quite the opposite here at times, something which I will call the "Shrek syndrome." I feel scary, at times, and sadly small for my size.

But I digress. There is, upon my first impression anyway, less danger of this in Japan. And (nice segway) this might be because of the unfettered wanderlust displayed by the Japanese throughout history. I actually recognized some of the amphora at the ceramics display in the archaeology display (I taught Humanities 101 a couple of times back home). The pots came from as far away as Greece and Spain. I could only read bits of the notation but I think the dig dated to the tenth century, three centuries before a European came this far East. I am not saying the Japanese went to get them and they were actually after what was in the pots, not the pots themselves, but that is some kind of trading network. According to the literature Fukuoka was Japan's gateway to the west and it remains so to this day.

The complex excavated was a merchant and diplomatic centre for years. Guarding it, just above, was a fortress built of huge fitted stones, a deep gray wall canted inward and topped with earth-works. None of the original wooden structures survive, but a beautiful garden of cherry trees and a guardhouse give one the impression of a wealthy and secure culture that remained impenetrable till 1945. Nagasaki is just 100K south of Fukuoka, Hiroshima 200K north.

Between the archeology building and the castle there was a large flat that probably had some history but it now holds a baseball field and a dusty rugby pitch. We sat under the ginko trees and watched the end of one rugby match and the beginning of another. It was brutal. I was very glad to be on the sidelines. There was usually at least one person writhing on the ground in pain and from where I was sitting it wasn't playacting. Huge collisions, no pads. It reminded me of a game we used to play when I was a kid called "kill the man with the ball." It had another rhymey name that time has rendered inappropriate that could roughly be translated "splatter the homosexual." It was a lot of fun. These fellas were really enjoying themselves, too.

We climbed up through the maze, though the wide guarded stairways and under and over former drawbridges, up several levels to the very top. The uppermost level was only the size of a tennis court but it offered a spectacular view of the city. I tried to imagine the blood that had been let on those steps and terraces and when I closed my eyes the screaming and clash of the rugby match below could just as well have been a battle raging outside the castle gates.

A five minute walk brought us to the edge of Ohori park, which contains a large lake, an art museum and a theater. I have read that the park is a copy of another in China and that it is famous throughout Japan. We walked through the Japanese garden (Y200) that was built to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the park's construction. The park's name means "trench" and derives from the fact that the lake was built using part of the outer moat of the castle. The land itself was reclaimed at one point from the bay, which is amazing since it is a few kilometers from the water now (much of the city lays on land that was once ocean and if my readings of the satellite images are correct there is a large reclamation project underway currently to the north of downtown). One of the old maps in the archeology building showed the water coming right up to the castle and I thought at the time that it was a map of somewhere else.

A walkway with bridges connecting small islands allows one to walk across the center of the lake and we did this, stopping to watch the families peddling around in swan boats, young people rowing skiffs, and a regatta of RC sailboats. On the opposite side there were restaurants and fountains and a concession stand where you could buy little plastic bags of fish pellets to throw to the huge carp patrolling the shore. Some of these fish were four feet long and weighed at least 100 pounds and that is no fish story. There was also a public bathroom and it was a sitter and it had a door! Hooray!

We walked a while further till we got to the Yahoo! Dome complex and Hawk's town, a set of two or three huge shopping malls. We walked around in there and Tom bought some soccer jerseys (he collects them) and we had dinner (Y4000). Curry. I can't believe it either but the guy was slapping naan on the inside of a huge tandoori oven right out front and that was it: I was having Indian in Japan. Oh, well. It was great, too. A surly bearded and turbaned Sikh ran the place and when I told him it was good he looked down his nose at me and grunted his disdain. I love it.

I was foot-sore by that point so after a powwow about how to proceed we decided to take a quick cab over to the Fukuoka Tower and then hunt down a bus back from there. We went up the tower (Y800) and I fiddled around trying to take a decent picture with my poor camera and got a couple that are OK I think. Down below there was a brightly lit complex of buildings sticking out into the water that looked like a medieval manor, complete with chapel. We went down and walked across the causeway but they weren't having us and the bar there wanted Y2000 just to walk in the door so we walked around on the beach for a minute and then went and found the bus stop and went back to Hakata Station. A brief stop at the massage chair display at Yodobashi while Tom got some CDs and then on home. I drank a few beers on the balcony and watched the people walking around outside till I started getting noddy.

The trip home was more eventful than the one there. At one point the sky darkened and it started sprinkling and the ferry slowed down abruptly and they said something over the intercom and everyone started looking out the windows. I asked the Korean guy across the aisle what was going on, "Is it a storm?" "No," he said. "Whales." Then the ferry took a hard turn to port and I looked out the window to the starboard and about 200 yards off I saw it: a huge black dorsal fin rising and turning away into the water.

When I got home I had another surprise. Yu Jin had told her mother that she was going to the movies and then went and got on the train.

Fukuoka, Japan

2008-09-16T11:18:00.008+09:00

As the country basically shuts down for Ch'usok and I had a three and a half day weekend, I decided that I would take the opportunity to go to Japan. It was a short trip, but I learned a lot about the country and was able to experience another Asian culture. This had the added effect of clarifying my perspective on Korea in many ways.

We took a jetfoil over the Eastern Sea (Sea of Japan). It was very fast and hovered above the waves on wings. The ride was very smooth. We met some other people on the ride over, including a fellow working for the US Navy. He was able to give us some important information about finding our way around and gave us a breakdown of the relative currency values. I am horrible at the whole money thing under the best of circumstances, but the breakdown for Yen was fairly simple: 1000 won = 100 yen = 1 dollar. I had bought 30,000 yen at the ferry terminal before we left, which turned out to be fortuitous. Tom intended to use his Visa to get money in Japan, as he could get it without paying huge exchange fees (as I did). The problem is that most Japanese ATMs will not accept any card, even a Visa, that is not issued in-country. On the second day we located an ATM at the post office that accepted any card (thanks Lonely Planet!) and the crisis was averted.

When we got through immigration we went out to the cab stand and the back doors to the first cab opened automatically to meet us. We got in and they closed automatically to welcome us still further. We showed the hostel address to the driver. He looked at it, said something in Japanese, and got out. After a while I decided I would take an opportunity to have a smoke. The doors were locked from the outside. I don't like that. After a while he came back and took us to the hostel. It was real nice. Clean and simple. It had a couple of showers for everyone to share and a large communal bath. Boys at one time and girls another. I didn't get in. It was so nice in fact that I am not even going to tell you which one I stayed at. I'm selfish.

After a short nap we took off to check out the town. The hostel was a bit out of the way, but after about a twenty minute walk we got to Hakata Station, Fukuoka's train terminal. Near there was a Yodobashi store, huge and packed with everything electric. Tom went off in search of CDs and I climbed into a massage chair. I almost never got out. It was heaven. See picture of this thing. Unfortunately it was over 400000 yen or I would have bought it. After a bit more walking around looking at things we had some supper and went back to the hostel and bed.

The next morning I woke up early and took a shower. I knocked on Tom's door at 8AM and after he got cleaned up we went to a Cafe next door and had breakfast. I had potatoes and eggs and sausages (hot dog size, polish taste) and a warm bun with BUTTER! A clear soup with veggies and Earl Grey. Yummin. Sounds a lot like a Western breakfast but according to the LonePlan that is what they eat. Order the "morningu setta."

On down the road to the bus stop and back to Hanaka Station, where we finally found the Post Office which was closed but the ATM area was open and boy were we glad to see that. Tom took out way too much money and we went off walking in search of several shrines in the area. They were very beautiful, with large manicured grounds and extensive cemeteries. The temples in Korea that I have been in have all been in wilderness areas with little in the way of landscaping. The pine woods tightly surround Beomosa and a wild mountain stream runs through the complex. Hyang-iram is built into the side of a cliff and the steps up and the buildings are really the only man made thing there. Most of the five or six Japanese temples we saw had grounds. There was far more open space in Japan in general. In Busan the only place without permanent structures are the streets, mountains, and beaches. In Japan they even had parking lots. I know of only a few in Busan and they are minded by full time parking attendants.

I am trying not to make sweeping generalizations about either country. Bear that in mind as I draw these comparisons. I am really only comparing two cities and likely not even doing that well. I came away feeling that, in general again, Fukuoko is far cleaner than Busan. Sorry.

We began working our way toward the shopping areas in Canal City. This is an area diced up by several canals and rivers that filled with malls and small streets full of shops and restaurants. It was beautiful and nice walking. I was looking for a present for someone so I drug poor Tom through a lot more of that than he probably would have stopped for without me.

There will be more tomorrow and some pictures are available here.

Ch'usok

2008-09-16T11:02:00.004+09:00

Korea has two major holidays, the Lunar New Year (in January or February) and Ch'usok (pronounced "chewsock") which was this past weekend. It's closest American counterpart is Memorial Day, but Koreans, because of their traditional veneration of ancestors, take this very seriously. Everyone who possibly can is expected to gather with their relatives for family feasts that last for days. They also tend and perform rites at the graves of their ancestors, leaving fruit and meat and pouring out soju as gifts to them.

Last Thursday we had a Ch'usok celebration at school and I was able to take many pictures of the children in their traditional clothes, brightly colored silk outfits called "hanbok." The directors also provided me with a suit of hanbok clothing and I was more than willing to try it on. It was an elaborate constum of mostly pink silk. I look fantastic, as you will see in the pictures. We played traditional Korean games, in most of which I was able to participate. They also made some of the moon shaped rice cakes that are eaten at this time and used in ceremony. It was a great time and the children were more beautiful than ever.

You may view the photos in the following album: KoreaPics17. Enjoy!

Flying Home

2008-09-08T20:35:00.003+09:00

Yep, I am still here. It's another quiet wind-down Sunday night here at home. I have always found Sunday nights to be extremely depressing. This one is no exception.

So I have decided to go home. Right now. I am on my way.

First, I'm going to a little place where ne'erdowells like me like to sit and drink. Next stop is a little old time bar where my name is well known to the proprietor. On down the road a ways to another little watering hole where the PBR is always real cold and the hummingbirds are thick. I am getting a little buzzed about now but there is a little daylight left and I can fly in this satellite so I am heading south to get some catfish fritters. That sobered me up a little so I think I'll head downriver to get some ribs. Time for another beer or two, and some salsa would be good with that. I am going to sleep. And when I wake up at the Ruebel tomorrow morning I am going to get some chick-on-a-stick. (If you think you know all the places on the satellite tour send me an email. No fair zooming out either.)

I feel better now. And I am here at home (which isn't too far from work or the beach).

It was a magnificent day, weather wise. The sun shines differently here and today was crystal clear with a brilliant blue sky. Maybe it is the contrast with the green of the mountains or the gray of the city or maybe it is the proximity of the sea, but these days when it is sunny make everything vivid. It's like living in high definition.

We went on the cable car to the top of the tallest mountain in town today. At the top we looked down on the city lay spread out below. It didn't look real. The bridge and the ocean were visible in the middle distance and the towers sparkled in the haze. After a while we came back down and went on the bumper cars at the little amusement park there. We laughed and laughed.

The goodbyes are getting harder. I think I have the train station blues.

Hit the Ground Running

2008-09-03T12:58:00.008+09:00

We were unable to get the ferry tickets we wanted because of the holiday so we are leaving on Saturday afternoon and returning Monday morning, which is fine with me but Minha and Keungmin have decided they don't want to go on that short of a turn-around and I understand. But Tom and I are going anyway.

I have been very busy at work. The classes are still gruelling but it helps that they have made me make a plan. I was asked to write practice prompts for an essay contest that is coming up. I have a couple of kids that I would put up against anyone. One girl, Sarah, who is seven, writes better English than some college students I've had which speaks more to the disgraceful state of urban public education in the US than the native intelligence of these kids, which is significant nonetheless.

After two days of unspeakable gloom on Monday and Tuesday the sun broke out last night. I was getting ready to do something horrible to myself but Yujin called and said that the sun had come out in Daegu and I waited for a bit to see what would happen and it came out here too right after work. I had dinner with Minha at a dak galbi place that I have been told is the hottest food in Korea. I sat there and sweat blood and when it was all over Minha told me that she had asked them to make it mild. My god. It was delicious though I could only taste it immediately after blowing my nose. It was like getting sprayed on the tonsils with pepper spray and I don't even have tonsils.

Afterwards I went to the Megamart and bought some cat supplies. I have already bitched plenty about the cost of kitty food and litter but 12USD for 10Kilos of something a cat is going to crap on. Come on! I am going to try to find some oil dry if I can somewhere. Food is little better. I also got one of the domed cast iron plates that go over the gas "range" so i can finally make samgyopsal and galbi at home. I got some really kewl plates and bowls, a little set of tongs, a strainer and some other kitcheney things I wanted, too. If you look around you can find some pretty good deals. I also got some slippers to wear at work. Socks or bare feet weren't working. I am looking forward to cooking dinner when I have company this weekend.

I also (finally) found some noodles that are mild. The ones I bought before are real paint peelers. If you ask someone if something is spicy they invariably say no. We are doing a book on why we should eat our vegetables in two of my classes and I took in some red pepper paste to illustrate what a pepper was and the kids ate it like it was candy. Begged for more. I gave them a little taste on the end of a toothpick but when they came for seconds they were scooping out big globs of it and smearing it all over their lips. I would have to go to the corner store for an emergency yogurt.

I have been sleeping better at night and I feel a bit healthier every day. I must be losing weight. I eat most lunches at school and I have stopped taking a double portion of rice. I haven't been eating out much in the evening, trying to save up for the weekends and trips coming up. And I haven't been drinking anything like I did before I came. For one thing, the beer here is horrible unless you get an import and then they rape you. And it costs about a week's salary for a decent bottle of whiskey, my favorite beverage. That leaves soju. When I first came here I thought: "Now here is a civilized place. Three bucks and you can get blind drunk on a small quantity of this tasteless beverage, whatever it is." But people told me that I would soon tire of it, and I have. It is ok with food but to sit down and drink it in terminal quantities is not advisable. It hurts daddy.

New photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/cyanocitta/KoreaPics16#

Daegu and the Days Before

2008-09-01T20:50:00.001+09:00

Went out to dinner Thursday night with Jourdan and a German I met named Jes Tom. He works here for a Korean shipping company. His job is to arrange the cargo containers on the ships. He makes layouts considering several factors, including weight and where the containers are going. It sounds like a huge game of Tetris to me. The ships call at ports all over the world and he has to place the containers so that the stuff for the next port ends up on top and so that the maximum number of cranes can work at the same time.

He is here on an exchange program. A Korean with the same job is Hamburg right now at Tom's shipyard. He has been here five months and he will be here till December. Jourdan is leaving on Tuesday and will be spending a month in India and then he doesn't know what he will do. He may travel till he runs out of money and then come back to Korea or he might do something else. I hope he comes back.

We went to a restaurant near Somyeon that we found. It was called "Samba, samba," and it proclaimed itself to be a Latin American Food and Beer Bar. It is always interesting to see what people do with a cuisine that they have read about but never tasted. I ordered a margarita and it was lemon cool-ade and tequila. Salt, no lime. There were a few things that had Mexican names but by and large it was a Korean menu. It was unfortunately not that good.

We talked a while about living in Korea, the difference between living somewhere and being a tourist, the difference between living abroad in Asia and somewhere else like Europe, language, women, food, beer, and other stuff. Jourdan said that his travels in Asia had left him with the feeling that is said best in a song by an artist I hate so I won't credit them who wrote "It's all the same, only the names are changed." I felt that this would be the worse kind of curse but I console myself now thinking about the fundamental differences in the way he and I travel. He is a sprinter, I am a napper. In the week we were off, the week we met, he went to five or six cities. I went to two. I am not saying that one way is better, I just more into being absorptive rather than inclusive.

Later that night we went to Tom's and I introduced him to Minha and Jinhee. When I told Minha a week ago that I was planning to go to Japan on the next long weekend (Sept. 13-15) she told me that she really wanted to go to Japan before long. I asked her to come and, although we had to get permission from her boyfriend and my girlfriend and she is going to have to quit her job to go, she is going. We were discussing ferry schedules and accommodation rates and I said to Tom that he should come and he checked with work and he can go too. Minha has a friend, Keunmin (maybe not right spelling) that speaks fluent Japanese and she is going too. So we have four. Yujin can't go. This holiday, Chusak, is the second biggest after Lunal New Year and it is a mandatory family visitation day. It is killing me that she can't go but the whole country shuts down and unless I want to sit here and do nothing for four days I am going to have to get out of here. She understands. We have ferry tickets and I have secured us lodging in a hostel in Fukuoka for about $30 each per night which is about a third of the cheapest traditional hotel I found online. Fukuoka is the home of the romeon noodle, so maybe food will be affordable too. Ferry tickets weren't exactly cheap, but we are taking the hydroplane so we will get there in three hours. The overnight isn't that much cheaper but I would like to do that sometime. It would be nice to go to bed and wake up in another country.

On Friday I had 7:20 train tickets and I got off at 6:30 so it was a little (a lot) stressful to make it. I got there as the train was leaving after running from the subway station. Yujin met me at the station and I don't know what my face looked like when I saw her but I wish I had a picture of it because when I made it everyone else waiting turned around to look at what I was looking at. We went to a Galbi joint nearby and when they gave us the menu I went into shock. It was outrageously expensive. I asked Yujin what was going on and she said that the place served the special Korean beef. I had to try it. It was worth every penny. It had a rich beef taste and was buttery fat. We cooked it slowly, a few pieces at a time and roasted garlic and grilled onions to wrap it up with. They served it up with a red sauce that I tried and tried to figure out but couldn't place the spices. It was sweet and just a little spicy. It was a little like chunky BBQ sauce but different. There was also thin sliced daikon radish with sesame oil and a soup that we didn't get into much. We washed it down with a few imperials of Hite, Korean beer. It was a great meal.

We talked until late and then I put her in a cab home to momma and went to check into my hotel. The area around the train station is lined with whorehouses. The one I stay in is pretty nice. It has the cheesy decor of a love motel but is is quiet and exceptionally clean. If you like mirrors and colorey lights this is the spot. When you check in they give you a toothbrush, a disposable razor, and three condoms. After I got settled I went for a walk to look for Kim Tae Moon. If you remember he was the character I ran into the last time I was here. I looked at our old haunts and found out from the karaoke guy that Mr. Kim had been, in his words, "captured by the police." Kim Tae Moon is crazy, and when he drinks too much...his words faded and he held up his two fists. Oh boy. I couldn't believe it. Such a kind-hearted person. I couldn't imagine him being violent.

I went back around to the hotel and sat for a bit in the little cafe there. I had a couple of beers and chatted with the Koreans staggering in from there revels. On guy had urinated in his pants and he was cheerfully trying to have a much too close conversation with me against my prostestations until the halmonim (grandmother) saw what was going on and shoved him out the door. One guy I was talking to asked me if I wanted a "sexual partner," which is a suspiciously ambiguous way to put it. I didn't of course, but for the benefit of my readers here I asked him the rates. Three fingers. 30000W. $30. I contemplated ordered one up just to see what would come to my door. At that rate teeth were probably an additional charge.

The next day we went out to eat at a shabu-shabu place. I like these. They bring out a big shallow soup pot with onions and diced potatoes floating in spicy beef broth and set it on the burner built into the middle of most restaurant tables here. The give you a bunch of soup fixins (veggies, mushrooms, and herbs) and a big plate of thin sliced beef and a bowl of homemade noodles and you get the pot simmering and make the soup and add the beef as you eat it. I like mine just past raw and Yujin likes it well done. You mix in some kanjang and kochujang (soy sauce and red-pepper paste) to taste and gobble it up. Delish! After you eat most of it they bring out a bowl with rice and raw egg and chopped herbs and garlic and after they dip out most of the liquid they throw that in the pot and make up batch of fried rice to finish you off. It is cheap and you always end up stuffed.

Yujin then took me to a very special place, her very favorite place. Above a restaurant there is a tiny theater that shows foreign films with Korean subtitles. It reminded me of a gritty coffeehouse back home. Kids were sprawled out on comfy chairs in the little snack bar and the walls were covered with original art work done in magic marker. We saw an American movie, Broken English, which was a chick flick about a girl who falls in love with a French guy and way too relevant and I got way too emotional. Yujin gets a big kick out of it when I cry at movies and I always try to hide it but to no avail. At the end of the weekend we have been in the habit of asking each other what was our favorite moment. This weekend she said that seeing me crying because the French guy was crying. I said Korean beef. (I am lying.)

There are a lot of things that are none of your business. Or anyone else's. I kissed Yujin in the sushi joint in Busan and the sushi chef, a young guy who genuinely likes me, made a face and said something and I asked her what he said and she told me he said "not a gentleman." So I don't kiss her in public anymore unless I can't help it. When in Rome. We had fried chicken once and she told me that wings were her favorite but she couldn't eat them anymore now because of me. What? Koreans believe that if a woman in a relationship eats a wing it could cause them to "fly away," or be unfaithful. I didn't want to point out that although chickens are flightless birds they are rather fleet of foot as she was chewing on a leg at the time.

We had dinner after that but I don't want to tell you where because I have a surprise.

Sunday we kind of lounged around. Had lunch. I took a nap on a park bench. Had some coffee. We spent most of the day dreading my departure. Tom was coming home from Seoul and I had arranged to meet him on the train as it came through Deagu. I got on and he came back to my car and we chatted as the sunset scenery went by. When we got back to Busan we hopped the subway and met Minha, Jinhee, and Jourdan and had pizza at Papa John's to celebrate Jourdan's imminent departure. We went to an arcade later and played Dance, Dance, Revolution, which (surprise!) I suck at. I was on my last legs and bailed about 9:30. I don't know what they did but I got a text from Tom that said he got home at midnight sober. I was too tired to face the subway so Minha told the taxi driver where to deposit me and I got home fast. A quick Skype with Yujin and I was out.

There are pictures and I will post them once I go through them. Thanks for reading!

Miscellania

2008-08-26T20:39:00.006+09:00

Those of you from the States who are regular readers of this missive might be thinking, "Boy, it sure would be nice to talk to old Joe, but that is impossible." Not so, my friends. I have Unlimited World Calling through Skype.com and I can call you and talk to you as easy as pie. Simply send me an email message and include your phone number and whether you would like a call in the early evening (5-7 PM CDT) or in the early morning (7-9 AM CDT) and I will call you up. I have already talked to several people this week and I think it brightened their day considerable. If you are in Korea and you want me to call you, get in line.

Just kidding, of course. I have made so many friends around the world through this blog it boggles the mind. When I imagine people in Malaysia and Israel and the Czech Republic reading about my triumphs and travails, let alone my testicles, it tickles me to the tell the truth. Several people living and working here in Korea have written their encouragement and/or sympathy and for that I am also thankful. We passed 550 unique visits for the first time this week and now have readership on every continent excepting Africa (and Antarctica, of course, but those people are rather busy this time of year, it being Winter and all). I never dreamed such a thing was possible. If you enjoy the blog don't hesitate to say hi.

I have made another Short Film, called "The Baby On the Bus." It has neither babies or buses, but it does open with a self-shot close-up of my face. You have been warned. Several people have requested more photos and I am sorry for the delay in getting those on. I had a major formatting error on the camera's memory card and lost quite a few. I should have some more soon.

The weather here continues to be marvelous. I had a recollection from early childhood tonight. It was the feeling of walking out into a gorgeous day after being cooped up in school for a long time. I have made a lifestyle out of not being cooped up anywhere for long but now work entails some of that and it is almost worth it to have that feeling. It surprised me. It was a type of wonder that can only be won through the temporary suspension of sensory stimulation. The feeling when the sky and the wind and the sounds of children playing hit you is almost indescribable. It is its own thing.

Film Link: "The Baby On the Bus." Faraway Pictures. (Turn the volume down a bit till it gets going. It is set a little high in the recording.)

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=XOyI-IY8qsY

A Culinary Tour

2008-08-24T19:08:00.008+09:00

There were other memorable things about this weekend but the food that took the headline. Koreans love to eat out. Sometimes I think that there is one restaurant for every Korean. Another concept at work is the neighborhood theme: restaurants tend to specialize in one type of meat or even a single dish, and entire neighborhoods often contain many of the same types of restaurants. Seaside areas tend to have blocks devoted to nothing but hoe (pronounced "hway"), the freshly killed raw fish that is a Busan specialty. Other areas are full of galbi or sampyopsal joints. There are areas devoted to Chinese cuisine, like Busan's Shanghai Street.

This weekend we returned to a sushi bar I have come to love in nearby Dongnae. It is an all-you-can-eat conveyor belt type place that serves up the best sushi I have ever had. On this occasion I stuck my camera on the belt and sent it around. This is actually the second time I have done this at this place and, given the Korean aversion to being photographed, it is not a popular thing with a lot of people. But I really wanted to do this, so I did it. The first time I did it (last weekend) I accidentally erased the file. This week I had to do it twice because the first time the card had formatting issues. I reformatted, losing everything I had stored, and did it again. By this time everyone in the place was thoroughly disgusted with me and the camera and when you watch the film you can see this. I can't hardly stand to watch it. But that is the price you pay for great art. The film is at the link below and, again, is best viewed in "high quality" if you have the bandwidth.

"Sushi Bar." http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=6jb1bgQGYBQ

On Saturday night Yujin and I decided to go to see a movie and have dinner down at Somyeon, which is a large shopping area I have mentioned before. (A note on the name situation: there is a lot of leeway in the Anglicization of Korean names and words in general. I am switching to a more current method with all names from now on. And Yujin and Minha are easier to type.) We went to the theater to get a ticket and were not pleased to find out that the film we wanted to see didn't start until 11:00 PM. Four hours away. We decided to wait and see what the evening brought. Usually we would have had some beverages but I am off the sauce because of the antibiotics (which are working nicely by the way, thanks for asking) so we walked around looking for a place to eat. We found a dak galbi restaurant and went there. Dak (chicken) galbi is chopped boneless chicken and vegetables braised at the table on a huge cast iron plate. It is marinated in a red pepper paste and more of the paste (about one cup it looked like) is added with the vegetables. Ours came with "assorted seafood," which turned out to be clams, octopus, and shrimp. It was delicious. Like most galbi, it is served with lettuce to wrap it up in and a variety of sides to put in there with it. The only problem was that it was hot. Very hot. It was one of the hottest things I have eaten since I got here and that is saying something. Infernal. I could eat it, but I had heartburn immediately and as soon as we left we went directly to the 7-11 next door and bought drinking yogurt (peach) and drank that down. This relieved the heartburn and did a lot I feel to mitigate the aftereffects. I will go there again and the next time I will drink yogurt before and after.

We ended up hanging around in a Pizza Hut watching the very exciting end to the Olympic baseball finals in which the Korean team narrowly defeated Cuba. I was extremely conflicted at first (I love Cuba) but found myself rooting for my newly adopted country as if it were my own. After the movie it was late. The subway and all the buses were shut down but there was a line of taxis waiting outside and we grabbed one and got home quick.

The next day we went on the eastern route of the Busan City Tour. I have gone on the western one twice and can say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. The eastern route, which goes to two museums and two beaches, on paper looks like the much better of the two. Not so. I have avoided in this blog saying anything bad about my new home and when possible have avoided saying anything when that was possible. In this case let me just be brief. The Busan Metropolitan Museum was founded in 1978 and this is where it has remained. The main gallery is due for an update. It has some beautiful things presented in a rather dated way. One thing I saw that I did find fascinating was a set of old maps drawn with pen and ink on scrolls. What I saw surprised me. Dongnae, the area we had lunch in yesterday, is the original town location. This is maybe two or three kilometers from the ocean. In fact, Busan had been called by that name until as late as 1910.

We had planned on staying there for two buses worth but took the first one to Gwangali beach to find some food. We had it in mind to have bulgogi, which is prepared much like the dish before except without the pepper paste and beef. The pan came out loaded with all kinds of meat and four kinds of mushrooms and two kinds of onions and clear rice noodles and thinly sliced beef and there were some peppers but I got most of them out of it when nobody was looking. It started bubbling away and after a short while it was done and it was really good. We were hungry and ate most of it.

We had planned on getting on the bus and going to BEXTEL, the Busan museum of modern art. But when we caught the bus it was one of those luxury ones with three seats per row that lean all the way back and to make a short story even shorter we both fell asleep and woke up back at Busan station. Our tour was over. That is ok. We can do the last two-thirds of it some other time. The Busan City Tour is a great rainy day activity.

Put her on the train and went home and fell asleep again. I am up in the middle of the night working on this. Work should be fun today. We are having Olympics in the morning for the little ones.

Short Film Premier: "Good Morning, Joe Teacher" from Faraway Pictures

2008-08-22T08:29:00.004+09:00

Today's post is a short film I made. I wanted it to be unsophisticated yet visually jarring so I put it together on Windows Movie Maker and shot it on my digital still camera to avoid image stabilization. To view it click the link below and make sure that you click "watch in high quality" because I shot it in HD. Enjoy!

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=pGhW530kFis

On Curses and Blessings

2008-08-20T21:18:00.011+09:00

WARNING: The following post contains graphic and highly personal and slightly humorous references to my personal anatomy and its rapid descent toward cadaverhood. If you are squeamish, easily disgusted, a prospective employer, newish girlfriend or female relative please stop reading now.

Horrors. I have had a recurrence of the medical condition that caused me to spend my last night in the USA in the emergency room. For those of you who don't know, I suffer from chronic epididimitis that causes my left testicle to periodically swell up about double and hurt like the devil. When I realized that it had come back I was terrified. Not so much of the condition, which is awful, as of the cure, which is far worse. My last visit to the hospital had been an exercise in medical torture and the prospect of placing my sore self literally in the hands of Eastern medicine was too horrible to envision.

But when I realized Wednesday afternoon that it was the real thing and not the world's worse case of blue balls (which it absolutely could have been for reasons I am not about to explain) I told the bosses at work that I was going to the hospital the following morning. This worked out well because we had a field trip planned and I wouldn't miss any classes if things went smoothly at the hospital. For an interpreter I recruited Minha, who generously offered to accompany me even though she gets off in the early morning and usually sleeps till mid-afternoon.

I didn't sleep much worrying about this and I called Minha to wake her up at 8:30 AM (she is a saint) and washed it off and hopped a bus down to the subway. I met Minha there and we made a transfer, got off and hoofed it to the hospital. Once there we registered and were sent directly to the urology department. I waited for about ten minutes and a nurse came out and got us and took me in and introduced me to, I am not kidding, an actual Urologist. He was very kind and, if not gentle, thorough. AND he didn't give me a urethral swab or a sonogram (these the two horsemen of the urological apocalypse: the first hurts like a red hot poker and the latter feels like making lemonade except without any lemons). Just a cursory exam and a few questions. Any sexual intercourse since the last episode? No. Any discharge? No. Any strenuous physical exercise? Well, I climbed a mountain. Bingo, he said, this was the culprit. (He spoke pretty good English, which was nice. I added the Bingo.) He then took out a huge piece of paper on which he had drawn the interstate highway system that was the circulatory system of my nethers. He showed me how the blood from the testicles has to travel a long way, all the way up to the kidneys, before it reenters the larger vessels of the blood stream proper. The lucky blood from the right testicle then takes a conveniently located on ramp straight onto the expressway, but the blood from the left nut has to take a detour through a construction zone at the intersection of the kidney and the adrenal gland and therein lies the problem. Strenuous exercise causes a traffic jam and the blood is backed up all the way down to the old billiard.

I had brought with me a copy of the prescription I had gotten from the visit in Springfield and when he saw it he scoffed. Doxycycline? Caveman antibiotics. He then drew another picture which I took to represent the holy hierarchy of antibiotics, with the aforementioned far far back either the power chart or the timeline or both. Anyway, what he gave me is way better. Cefa-somethingorother. After much handshaking and thank youing we were shown out and at the desk I was asked to pay for the visit. 7200 won (about $7!). We were given a prescription and went to the pharmacy next door (the hospital didn't have a pharmacy but it did have a funeral parlor, which seems to me a conflict of interest). I was given an antibiotic, an anti-inflammatory, and a capsule that I now think mitigates pain. It took the pharmacy less that three minutes to process and dispense my prescription, which came three pills to a little clear plastic packet: three pills twice a day after meals for two weeks. Total: 12600 won ($12.50!!). Twenty bucks total. I think I was charged in the neighborhood of $1500 for the last visit to the hospital (Editor's note: My mom, reading my mail back home, said it is up to $3000 now- somebody read an x-ray). I took the pills about two hours ago and I feel better already.

Have I told you before that I love this place?
,

You Are Here: Mt. Mangsan and Bongam Beach

2008-08-19T14:35:00.009+09:00

I woke up, if I ever slept at all, about 4AM. I came to the conclusion that night that I could sleep on the floor with AC or in a bed without AC but without either it was a no go. Sorry budget travel buffs...remove me feed from your reader if you must, but I am too old and set in my ways to rough it anymore.

I told Blue Jean I was going outside for a while and she snored "OK" and was back out before I even got out the door. My gods that girl can sleep. And on the floor of a mosquito infested sauna. (She doesn't have AC in her bedroom at home and although she does have a bed she is just as comfortable on the floor.) I brushed my teeth and grabbed my journal, a pen, and my camera and out the door I went. The light sprinkle I encountered soon turned into a downpour. I settled under a small overhang on the building next door next to a dead bonsai tree and waited out the rain. Someone had used the pot of the dead bonsai for an ashtray. I thought to myself that this was an end too ignoble for something which had suffered so much for the sake of beauty.

The rain caused a bit of a stir along the wharf. A few tents were set up along the bay and the rest of the previous evening's revelers were in various states of unconsciousness in cars and around public buildings. Perhaps they had met with the same chilly greeting we had at the guest houses but I suspect that the plan for most was to sleep where they landed. Koreans swell up like the mumps from mosquito bites and I was killing them right and left but there were quite a few people sleeping out in the open or in cars with doors and windows open. It must have been quite a feast. I was amazed by the diversity of the mosquito species. Some of them were rather large and actually had striped abdomen. I would not likely survive malaria due to my liver condition and supposedly it is still found on some of the islands. The room had screens that held that distinction in name only but we were provided with a spiral of mosquito fumigant which had, I am certain, not helped with the atmosphere in the room. Everything we owned stunk like that stuff when we left. I can still smell it.

I got my pen out and wrote a few things down and took some pictures. The fishing fleet had gone before I got up but as the storm passed and light broke I could see the men working the floating fisheries in the bay. Each operation probably covered an acre and held a small hut and a port-a-potty and most had a boat or two. I am not sure what they were raising but we saw a lot of similar things in the inter-tidal zone and at low tide you could see ropes strung with shells which I assume were there to seed oysters. I will have to find out more about the fisheries the next time I go but it is difficult. Of all the people I have encountered in Korea the guys who work the boats are the most surly which is to be expected I suppose. They leave early and come back late and pulling nets is no picnic. I am sure crabby doesn't begin to describe their demeanor. It is a rough life. Although many people in Busan stare at me like a freak of nature people out here on the islands openly gawk. Either that or they refuse to make eye contact. The ladies in our minbak laughed the whole time were in there and I heard their conversation peppered with "miguk" (American) this and "miguk" that. And they really grilled Yoo Jin about the nature of our relationship. I wish I could have understood what she said because I would really like to know. (co co co)

A herd of cats was picking over the debris from the night before. Wherever there are raw fish restaurants there are cats. Cats here, like Zoulie, tend to be cut size. There were gulls flying out to sea and herons, cranes, and egrets flying the opposite way toward land. I couldn't figure that out. The gulls were calling out with their sad laugh. The horizon was still obscured from view by a thick fog but the light of sunrise was striking high pink feathery clouds straight up that were backed by a deep blue sky. Soon the first to recover were breaking out their fishing gear to do it all again. I repaired to the room and stared at Yoo Jin till she opened one eye and smiled at me. We (mostly I) decided to get out of that room ASAP and we got packed and went down to the little store and I bought some Diget crackers and some Pocari Sweat energy drinks and what I thought was orange juice and we headed out to climb the mountain.

Now I know what some of you are going to say: 293 meters is not a mountain. Well, you can kiss my sore butt because it says right there on the map: "Mt. Mangsan." And I almost died. Three times. Once of cardiac arrest and twice of a broken coccyx. And we never even made it to Mt. Mangsan because the trail went over two other mountains on the way there and when we got to the top of the first one I only wanted to go down, not down and up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down, which is what we would have had to do if we went there. But it was an amazing experience. This trail actually goes all the way across the island if you look at that map and I would like to go do that. In November maybe. Because it was hot. About half way up I decided to remove my shirt which was soaked and not really doing much of anything. It is strictly against Korean etiquette for men to be seen in public without a shirt. Even at the beach it is rare. When I took it off Yoo Jin tilted her head at me and said "Nake?", which is her word for naked. I said, "Yep." That gave me the lift I needed and we pressed on up to the summit. It took us about three hours round trip.

When we got back down we headed directly to the island next door, which was connected by a beautiful new bridge. When we got to Bongam Beach town we went and had some grub, a fish soup in a mild clear broth with lemon grass and cilantro and scallions and cabbage and seaweed and lots of garlic. We got one and a half heads and a couple of tails and some of the meaty middle sections. It was really good and felt like wholesome and totally right food for where we were. And we really enjoyed the Air Conditioning. We took our time eating, I'll tell you that. I wrote some and we stared out the windows at the ocean.

After lunch we went to the beach and popped open a parasol. The beach was rocks, smooth rounded ones that started out as big as a softball up by the seawall and gradually diminished to pebble size at the waterline. They were hard to walk on barefoot. I was sceptical about sleeping on them but I put my flip-flops under my butt and my rolled up windbreaker under my head and after adjusting a few of them I was comfortable and promptly fell asleep.

I woke up and went swimming. The water was cool but it was a quick adjustment to being very comfortable. I still can't get over how salty the water is. I can swim with my eyes open under the water but it is so salty that it dried in crystals on my skin and pants and made my lips burn. After a bit I talked Blue Jean into getting in (she can't swim) and I held her in the ocean for about an hour. Bliss.

Across the bay, I have in my notes, at least three other islands are visible (it is hard to tell which ones are separate or connected from sea level). Each island had a small village of maybe twenty buildings which likely supported a small fishing fleet. Some had small terraced fields climbing the mountains above the town. Whitewashed buildings with orange roofs predominate. It is possible to stay on the islands further out if you take one of the other ferries and I would definitely like to do that some time. Tongyeong was only about two hours and 9500W from Busan by express bus.

After dinner we hiked back to Jindo to catch the bus. Bus pulled up to the dock right before the ferry. We camped out on the padded floor of the seating area and Yoo Jin slept. We got into Tongyeong about 4:30PM and set out to find a hotel. I was determined to find someplace nice to sleep and boy did I. The bathroom was bigger than the room we had the night before. And there was a bed. And an AC unit that we turned on high. The windows had inside shutters that turned the room pitch black. After a shower and a nap I went out to find some cigarettes and got a bottle of suju that we mixed with the little bottles of vitamin C drink that I found in the fridge. Clean and rested we went out to find some food. When we got outside I thought I heard thunder but when we got down to the harbor we saw the end of an amazing fireworks display (it was "Independence from Japan" day). You haven't seen fireworks till you have seen these guys do it. The whole thing was like the grand finale at home and the grand finale was unlike anything I have ever seen. It filled the entire eastern horizon.

We tried to catch a cab (I was hankering after sushi for some reason), but they were not to be found so we went to a galbi place that was simply amazing. I counted twelve dishes before they had even brought the meat. We cooked it up slowly and had more soju and laughed and talked with the rest of the table (a family of three) and toasted "kombae!" and ate till we were stuffed. We grilled up the shrimp first, and the garlic and mushrooms, and then threw on the samgyopsal and the galbi (marinated rib meat) that was the best I have ever had. We walked the waterfront back to the hotel happy happy happy.

The next day we got up late and caught a cab to the bus terminal and got back to Busan about 1pm. We went straight to our favorite sushi and there are some pictures to show why we like it. I put my camera on video and set it on the conveyor and it went around and back and everyone got a kick out of it and it was an amazing video but I erased it on accident. I guess I will have to go back there again. Dangit.

Later that evening I took Yoo Jin down to the train station and reluctantly kissed her goodbye. It was a wonderful weekend. Hopefully more to come.

Note: There are pictures for this and the previous travel post here and all of my photo albums are available here for your perusal and/or ridicule.

Thoughts Random

2008-08-18T19:09:00.009+09:00

I am feeling very content today in spite of everything. I have some dinner plans for later in the week and company coming next weekend. And it is hard not to fall under the spell of this city. The weather here is so beautiful in the evenings. It can be blazing hot at noon but as soon as the sun ducks down behind the western mountains the sea breeze gets sucked into the city and you can literally feel the temperature drop. The light in the evenings is so beautiful. The sun goes down long before actual dark because of the mountains and the sky just glows with refracted light. In the morning there is always a soft mist and everything looks like it was shot in black and white. My neighborhood never sleeps, and at night the neon everywhere gives off its own kind of sad light, a fitting poignancy with all the brothels and burnouts. Have I said before that I love this place?

Back to work today. It just keeps getting easier. I have lesson plans for the afternoon classes for the rest of the month and more ideas for the "Safety and Transportation" unit in the morning classes than I will ever get to. This week I have student evaluations due for my three morning classes and unit tests due for my six afternoon classes so I am going to be very busy. I will likely have to stay late tomorrow night to get the review materials ready in time to hand them out on Wednesday so the students can prepare for the actual tests on Friday. It is important to the bosses that they do well on the tests.

I got a lot done last night, laundry and cleaning up. The cat must have had a mental breakdown while I was gone. She fell asleep on my wet shorts last night when I got back in. She has had a major positive personality shift. She doesn't bite me anymore when I pet her. She must have heard me talking on the phone a long time before I got here tonight because she was crying so loud I could hear her in the stairwell. I hope she didn't do that all day.

I didn't sleep well last night and I was exhausted when I went to bed. I really had to fight the crabbies today at work. I am learning to laugh at the bad behavior and not let them get inside my head and make me angry, which is kind of hard sometimes. I have a couple of students in the afternoon that are expert button pushers. Divine retribution for all the buttons I have pushed I figure. I only got mad once today. There is a little smarty pants in one of my classes of ten-year-olds that sassed me in Korean and made all of the other kids laugh. She is a real piece of work. The worst kids are always the smartest ones. They are just bored. I know all too well how that feels. I should be more sympathetic.

I got an actual letter from home today, my first. Orvetta, my former neighbor back home for those of you who don't know her, sent me a wonderful note. She is a very special person. I am going to write her back ASAP. When anyone gets a letter it is a big deal. I needed that today.

Tongyeong and Hansando Island and Jindo Town

2008-08-17T21:10:00.007+09:00

I had one hour to get from work to the train station downtown so I bolted out the door and caught a cab to the subways station, figuring that the subway would be faster than taking a cab all the way at rush hour. I got there in time for a quick bite (bulgogi MVP grilled cheese at Isaac Toast: yum!) and walked in just as they popped the gate. I got a forward facing window seat but I was in an even numbered row so I was between windows. Remember this for next time. Everything runs right on time here and the train was no exception: we left the station on the second.

We stopped at Gupo station in northwest Busan on the way out and the unoccupied seat next to me was taken by a girl whose boyfriend brought in her luggage, kissed her goodbye and took off. She immediately started crying and did so until I got off in Daegu an hour later. Every once in a while it would wane and then she would get a text message and start up again. I felt the same way last night on the subway after I took Yoo Jin to the train station but I held it together.

She has changed everything about this. Just when things were starting to become bland she showed up and made everything vivid again. I have said it before but it is incredible how cool she is. She moves through the world with a sense of grace and appreciation of beauty and innate wisdom that is beyond her years. She is also far too humble. She can't see how special she is. I have never met anyone else like her. She's a keeper.

She was waiting for me at the station and we found a motel nearby (from the Lonely Planet, god love it) that was clean and well appointed and at 30000W a great value. We went out and found a fried chicken joint that was delicious but a little overpriced. We ate outside on a maru, the little low platforms everywhere that are like outdoor living rooms). We got some maekju (beer) and ate slow and talked and laughed. After a while a guy came up and started talking to us. His name was Kim Tae Moon and he and I ended up hanging out late into the night. (Yoo Jin had to go home to mama.) He said he could sing and started out with "Take Me Home Country Road." I joined in with some harmonies and we were instant buddies. We ended up going to a nearby karaoke bar and singing until neither of us had any voice left. By the end of the night we were walking down the street in the rain holding hands, which is totally cool for grown men to do in Korea, especially if they are drunk off their asses (we also shared a love of soju it turned out). I bid him adieu at the door to my hotel and went in and passed out I don't know when. Yoo Jin came and woke me up at 7AM and I was really feeling it then. But I had so much fun the night before that I didn't care.

We walked through the train station the next morning on the way to the bus terminal and here come Tae Moon, wearing the same clothes and the same big smile. I gave him a big hug and he pointed us to the shortcut. At the bus terminal we went got a ticket and had a half hour till our bus left so we went and got some Dunkin Donuts. On the way we found the Blue Jean hat at a street vendor (see pics). Onto the bus and off. BTW: I took three busses, two taxis, two ferries, one subway and a train on this trip and I added up the total transportation cost and it was less than 40000W ($40). Not bad.

Ate lunch in Masan and transferred to Tongyeong bus. Got a little cranky about then. Got to town and took a cab directly to the ferry terminal where we caught a ferry that was just leaving for Hansando Island. The island had a bus but it pulled out before we realized we should have got on it and had to wait an hour for it to come back. It was ok though. Yoo Jin drew a cool picture of the view (she is quite an artist) and I wrote in my journal and we had ice cream. When the bus got back we hopped in and while we were waiting to leave a guy got on and started screaming at the driver. You have to understand: this simply does not occur in Korea. Korean culture has no place for conflict. They do anything they can to dispel disagreements without resorting to raised voices. I will probably never see anything like this again. It was incredible. The whole bus turned on the guy and then he started screaming at everyone in general. Yoo Gin was literally shaking, and we were in the very back of the bus. I thought it was hilarious. A guy with a lifeguard shirt went up immediately went up and separated the guy from the bus driver who was kind of in a bad position as he was sitting down and couldn't get up without bumping the guy. I felt bad for him. I would have killed this guy. A few seconds later a constable showed up out of nowhere and got in the guys face and ended up physically removing him from the bus and wrestling him down the wharf. I never did figure out why the guy was angry. It was something to see. There is a great picture of Yoo Jin's reaction.

We went around the island, not really knowing where to get off, but Yoo Jin had talked to the driver and told him that we wanted to go to the beach and he said that we couldn't go there on the bus but he could get us close. We got to a little fishing village called Jindo and he yelled back to us to get off. There were maybe twenty buildings in the little town. We walked down to the waterfront to inquire about lodging. Yoo Jin asked a lady peeling garlic on the breakwater if her minbak had any rooms. She said we needed to make reservations. We went to all of the other minbak in the little town and they all said they were full. We were looking pretty screwed. The last bus was coming soon and there wasn't another ferry until the next day and it looked like rain. We went back to the first lady and asked if we could make reservations. She said yes. We made reservations for that night (!) and she gave us a room. (I am still not sure what happened here.) It was 40000W, but she wanted us to get two rooms. Yoo Jin said no, one room. They talked for a minute and came to some kind of understanding.

She showed us to out room and get this: maybe 8x12 and a "bathroom" shared by the six rooms on the floor and no AC and no BED! Now to be fair, this is typical accommodation for a minbak, or pension. But I had a few rules when I got here and I had already broken most of them. No slit toilets (this turned out to be a good prohibition that I still break only under great duress), no eating at sit on the floor restaurants (this turned out to be a stupid prohibition than I now completely disregard), and no sleeping on the floor. The real blow was the lack of AC because the humidity on the sea is brutal. I know I sound like a baby and I am. It's just that I am a very troubled sleeper to start with. I don't sleep well under idea conditions. We were without any other options and I was with Yoo Jin which makes the worst possible outcome pleasant so we made ourselves cozy.

After a brief nappy we went downstairs and had a wonderful dinner. The restaurant (operated by our hosts) was a hoe place, but we were not in a position to spend 70000W for that so we had samgyopsal. I have become something of an expert on this presentation and this was great (we had it again the next night and it was great, too, but for completely different reasons). You cook it yourself on a domed cast iron plate, usually fired from below by gas but sometimes charcoal. Samgyopsal is basically uncured bacon. I usually throw on a few pieces to grease it up for the garlic. There are also usually other veggies to cook up, like onion, cabbage, mushrooms, or peppers. A lot of times seaside places give you whole (head on) fresh shrimp or prawn as starters to cook up. Some people throw on some kimchi. The idea is to slowly feed on the meat and eat it as it is ready. The meat comes in strips and they give you scissors to cut it up into bite size pieces as it cooks. I like to wait till it is almost done but Koreans cut it up earlier. You take a piece or two of meat and wrap it up in lettuce or sesame leaf (or, like Yoo Jin, bless her pretty heart, both) and put in a piece of roasted garlic and some red bean sauce and some veggies and pop it in the mouth. Yoo Jin and I mostly make them and feed them to each other. She likes them a little spicier and I like more garlic. I can't make them for myself as good as she can for me. Soju is the perfect accompaniment and you drink it out of shot glasses and say "kombai!" and then turn the shot glass upside down on you head to show it is empty.

After dinner we went for a walk down by the sea. There was a party going on out there. Ten parties actually. People had been fishing all day and they were eating the catch, either raw or cooking it on grills or both. The festivities were well lubricated and went on late into the night.

After a bit we went upstairs and tried to sleep. This is the end of Friday.

Weekend Update

2008-08-15T09:19:00.010+09:00

Just got back from Tongyeong and the islands. Had a great weekend. I am going to do the same thing I did last time and spread the posts out over a couple of days. There are a lot of funny stories and new pictures, which I have already uploaded here. I am wore out. Goodnight. By the way...you should click on that picture.

All the Things I Wasn't Worried About

2008-08-13T20:25:00.003+09:00

I have been here long enough to get a handle on most things here (no pun intended) and I think it is time to revisit the post I wrote prior to leaving where I attempted to foresee what would be the most difficult parts of my adjustment.

Banking. I have had a pretty easy time with this, although I haven't tried to send any money home yet (sorry mom). There are a couple of people at the bank branch who speak passable English and I have been able to access money here pretty easily. I have had some trouble getting money from home when I needed it but the one real emergency I had was solved using of all things my checkbook. I wrote a check to a coworker and he cashed it and it went through (about two weeks later) at the current exchange rate. I don't think there was a fee on either end. There are two major international banks here and I think I will end up opening an account at one of them. This might be the easiest way to move money back home.
Shopping: I have found most of the clothing I needed at the larger shopping centers like Megamart. They had shoes my size and I even found a set of sheets. It is possible to find anything if you don't mind looking. The best shopping moment I had was finding the 220 battery charger in Yeosu. I was walking around aimlessly looking for anything resembling an electronics shop and I eventually came upon a tiny shop with alarm clocks and odd looking batteries in the window. I showed the proprietor where it said 110 on my charger and he scratched his chin and started going through the hundreds of tiny boxes lining the shelves of his shop. After about two minutes he came up with my charger. I gave him a hug which is not cool but I think he understood my drift.
Transportation: I had conjectured that it would be best to buy a scooter and I still thought so when I got here but we all know how that turned out. I still don't miss it (it got stolen the first week I owned it after I left the keys in it at work if you are just joining us). Public transportation is incredible here. The subways here are unbelievable and even with my rudimentary Korean I am starting to understand the bus routes. It is cheaper in many cases to take a taxi than either the buses or the subway in many cases. They must be subsidized is the only thing I can think of to explain how ridiculously cheap they are. The buses come about every two minutes and I have never waited more than I couple of minutes for a taxi. In addition, there are buses and trains going everywhere in the country in half-hour or one-hour intervals. I went all the way across the southern part of the country by bus last week for about 25000won ($30) last week on vacation. Round trip. I have a train ticket for Deagu tomorrow night (as far as Springfield/St. Louis) and it cost 10800.
Food: This has probably been the roughest. I have been unable to find the things I need to make some pretty basic stuff. For an Irish kid prepared to live on potatoes if necessary $7 a pound butter is a low blow. On the other hand, pork and seafood are very inexpensive and the stores stock lots of cool stuff like fresh take-home sushi. Every day I find something new I like and the menus at restaurant are becoming intelligable. I have started to like very basic rice dishes a lot. Korean food is extremely spicy. I went out and had kimchi bukkombap (fried rice with kimchi) and it was hot and all the sides were hot but I have been able to handle pretty much everything. The only thing that has bothered me is the noodle soup, like ramen but better. It is HOT. It will give me a little gurgly gut. Everything else has been ok. It is not a matter of finding things I liked back home anymore because there isn't any. It is a matter of finding things I like here. And I have found a lot. If I get desperate for a taste of home there is always the McDonalds, which is better than home because they still use saturated fats. Yummy.

Teaching: The first month was a bitch. I didn't get the material, I didn't know how to deal with the kids, and I didn't really understand what was expected of me. Now I have a complete lesson plan for all of my classes and I have come to terms with the potential of the materials (which was actually much better than I thought), and I have a handle on the expectations. I came into this with a lecturer's mindset. That didn't work. However, keeping the kids engaged helps me stay engaged and I am finding that I am often surprised by the bell now. At first the days drug on horribly. Now I have more to do than I have time to do it for most classes. I would advise incoming teachers to plan to weather the storm for the first month. After that you will hit your stride.
Packing: I brought pretty much everything I need. I would like to have a couple more short sleeved collared shirts, especially since I ruined one. My best purchase was my convertable pants/shorts. I am also happy that I brought a feather pillow. I don't know what they do with the feathers here but they ain't putting them in the pillows. My pack is great and my slicker has come in handy. I am pretty good in the clothes department and as I said above, there is more out there if I need it.
Accomodations: I like my apartment. It is small but plenty roomy enough for me and a guest. I have pretty much left the AC on arctic all the time and my first electric bill was only 47000 so it is a pretty efficient place. The matress is like a rock (not surprising since most Koreans sleep on the floor) but I am getting used to it. I haven't done much cooking, but when I do the kitchen functions well. The hand shower is a lot better than I thought it would be, and saves a lot of water. Wet down, lather, rinse. Nice. There are nicer places...I could have an apartment with an ocean view on the 50th floor of a highrise. But I guess I am blessed by not knowing the difference. If I want to see the ocean all I have to do is take a ten minute ride on the subway.

All told I am pretty content. Like I said, there have been some rough spots. But I read before I left that the most important thing is to maintain an open mind and a positive outlook. Every time I walk out my door I am instantly on an adventure. This city is the best. Everyone I have talked to who is teaching elsewhere tells me: Busan is the greatest. Climate, culture, clubs, outdoors, touring, food, people...everything the best. I am so lucky.

The Imperceptible Fade Into Familiarity

2008-08-13T10:32:00.005+09:00

I am beginning to settle in now and although the days are becoming pleasant and comfortable, it is kind of sad to see the newness of the place and the excitement of the early days fade into familiarity. The street scenes that used to captivate me are becoming part of the everyday world. Some of this has to do with my growing knowledge of the Korean language. All of the million signs here used to advertise the exotic and the mysterious in my imagination. Now I see just pool halls and massage parlors.

That said, every time I leave the house to go out I still feel a sense of adventure. A friend on vacation told me the Korean expression "EH" or "everyday holiday." Jourdan and I have adopted this as a motto. It is similar in meaning to "don't worry, be happy," and it fits when you are an expat in situations that are at times a little too surreal for the newness to remain thrilling.

Last night I took off from work and went down to the college neighborhood around KSU to meet Jourdan. He has turned out to be a pretty cool person to hang out with. He can't drink much because of his health problems so he is inadvertently a good influence. I was to meet him at seven at a Starbuck's near the subway that is a standard meeting place down there and I got off at five so I was an hour and a half early. I got a mango-passion fruit smoothy and settled down in a window seat with a book, half reading, half people watching.

Just a note on Starbuck's, which I hate and you should, too. I was sitting there for about a half an hour and I began to have a sharp pain that started in me buttocks and radiated up my spine to my armpits and shoulders. The chairs (the wooden ones) look very comfortable and nice, but if you look closely in the right light you can see that they have a large flat place in the center of where the butt crevice should be. It has the effect of placing all of the weight right on the base of the spine. For short term seating very comfortable. Long term: excruciating. I must be the only person who feels this way because as I was looking for some backup online I found a bunch of sites offering to sell you duplicates for your dining room. Talk about branding the herd.

Jourdan showed up and we walked around looking for something to eat. We stopped first at a Turkish street vendor who was selling chicken and cabbage wraps that were fair. We mosied on deeper into the bazaar and found a new thing: a smoker was built into the front of an upscale samgyopsal shop and was exuding the kind of smells that make my tummy growl. Samgyopsal is basically a thick strip of pork belly that you cook at the table and eat wrapped in lettuce with a variety of goodies. This place actually smoked the pork before they brought it. Yay! We got a sampler that came with three kinds of meat (belly, neck, and rib) and a bottle of beer. We started off with the belly and it was great. Next the neck, which was ok, but lacked the flavor of the belly, although it was leaner. The ribs, which I had saved for last, were a huge disappointment. They were dried out and tasted bad (Jourdan said that they tasted like hotdogs, but I have had some good hotdogs and would actually kill for one right now). All in all I would say the place was pretty good if you only ordered the belly and if they gave fresh lettuce for wrapping, an inexplicable omission.

When we got out of there it had started to rain. We hightailed it back to the Starbuck's to wait out the storm, even though the subway entrance was only a few yards away. He got some tea and a brownie, which I couldn't eat at 9pm because of my caffeine sensitivity. After a while we headed out. I went to an art store and bought a couple of drawing pads and some art pencils for Blue Jean and I. We had talked about drawing and found it was something that we had both enjoyed quite a bit at one time and I suggested that we do it as a way to help me slow down and really see what we are looking at when we find something beautiful on a trip. I tend to be "go-go-go" whereas she is always saying we should sit down and hang out at the pretty places. She is so cool.

Hopefully we will have an opportunity to use them this weekend as we go on a short trip on my long weekend. I have Friday off to celebrate independence from Japan and I am going to see Yoo Jin in Deagu on Thursday night and then we are going down to Tong-yeong, a small town on the southern coast which promises many pretty sights. I am not sure if I will have internet access but I promise to take lots of pictures and real good notes.

Oh No.

2008-08-11T20:46:00.003+09:00

"Character is Fate."
Ludwig van Beethoven

I'm screwed.

Falling

2008-08-10T20:15:00.009+09:00

I have a recurring nightmare that I am falling to my death. This is the only type of death dream that I have. I never drown or get blown up. I always fall. As a result, although I wouldn't say that I am afraid of heights I am at times a bit timid. When we went up the Busan Tower I was keeping a respectful distance from the windows. Yoo Gin ran up and plopped down on the sill.

She came down to Busan on the train for a visit. I met her at the Krispy Kreme factory in Seomyeon. I always wanted to go there and she had told me that she wanted to have breakfast so I suggested donuts. It was pretty good. They give you a glazed donut hot out of the donut factory when you walk in. We got some coffees and I got a chocolate custard bismark and she got a strawberry cheesecake one that was kind of blucky and I knew it and she knew I knew it but she ate most of it anyway to be polite.

We sat there and talked for a long time. One of the things that we talked about was talking. She was, and is, worried that our language difficulties could become a real problem in the future as we find the need to express more, as she put it, nuanced things to each other. I agree with her, but I had thought about this before and proposed an immediate solution. She agreed and we went off to the big bookstore and got his and her English/Korean Korean/English dictionaries. We put these to good use for the rest of the weekend. I have now mastered the better part of the human anatomy in Korean and she knows how to describe my sense of humor using a variety of interesting metaphors.

After donuts we went to the temple at Beomeosa. We had purchased a bottle of wine (Black Tower Reisling) last week on a shopping trip and I had (somehow) saved it till this weekend and had brought it along but I wanted to keep it chilled so on our way in I climbed down under the bridge and stuck it under a ledge in the water of the mountain stream that runs through there, which wasn't freezing but it was a lot cooler than my backpack. After that we made our way up the steps to the temple complex. It was just as beautiful as before and I saw some things I had missed the first time, including the "See on evil, Speak no evil, Hear no evil" Buddhas in the photo above. We (well, I) started to get hungry after a while so we headed back down the mountain to find lunch. We walked for a while until we found a little galbi shop and the proprietor stuck us in a little private room and cranked up the AC for us. We soon had the wine open and some beef on the grill and things were okey-dokey. We sat there for a long time on the floor, eating slow and talking. It was grand.

On Sunday Yoo Jin said she wanted to do some more sightseeing and I suggested the Busan City Tour bus. If you recall, I went on this on a rainy day my second week here and didn't really get to see much because of the weather. There are two routes, one that goes North to the beaches and one that goes South to Yeongdo island and Busan Tower and the fish market and we took that one. I wanted to see some of the things I missed the first time. The bus takes you on the route and you can get out at any of the stops and catch a later bus (they come to each site every 40 minutes). We got out at the two places aforementioned. At Busan Tower I took lots of kewl pictures of my adopted city and they are in the photoblog. At the island we hiked up out to a small beach and caught an excursion boat. The rocks were a beautiful reddish gray and when we got to the side of the island that faces the city a fog came that made the outcroppings look other worldly. There was a brisk breeze coming down the coast from the north that was very welcome. As the day went on it got hotter and hotter. Poor Yoo Jin's feet were burnt a little.

It was a lovely weekend. Yoo Jin makes a wonderful travelling companion. She isn't afraid to get wet or sweaty and she is a strong hiker and likes to eat, drink, and be merry. I cannot imagine a cross word coming out of her mouth. She is way cooler than me and dresses like a little hippy, complete with vintage t-shirts, Birkenstocks, and rolled-up cargo pants. We have a great time together and laugh all the time. She is funny and seems to like things about me that I think are repulsive, like my nostrils (ko't-gu-mong) , my belly (pae), and my double chin (ch'il-myon-jo mok [my translation: turkey neck]). For myself I love her chak-un pal and her ong-dong-i. Don't tell her I said that. She claims she is obese but I picked her up once and I don't think she weighs 8 stone. I think she is divine.

There are lots of pictures here.

The Kindergarten Symbolists

2008-08-08T12:10:00.013+09:00

When I started teaching here I found that the children had a limited pain threshold when it came to vocabulary and memorization. Writing and recitation only got us so far before the brains began to go elsewhere for stimulation. In Lincoln class, where last month's book was an ABC text with animals ("A is for Alligator"), I took to making word lists for a few letters each day. I would let the children generate four or five words for each of three letters, have a brief recitation and a spelling contest ("Who can spell for me....Newt!") and then they would draw pictures for each word. This generated fairly predictable, yet still precious, results when the words were nouns. But the children were also coming up with adjectival abstractions (new, soft, nice, kind, hard) and nouns from other classes that really challenged the minds of my six-year-old illustrators (how do you draw earthquake or safety?). The results were fascinating.

I once wrote an article about a man named Henry Darger. His art, some of which can be seen here, is considered very special by people who study art and human development because his artistic impulse and method appears to have occurred in a near vacuum. It was only discovered after his death that Darger had not only written a 15000 page novel (and an unfinished 8000 page sequel), but that he had also illustrated it with drawings and watercolors, some as large as 2x8 feet. Darger's vision is beautifully horrific and the suspected reasons for this, childhood trauma suffered in the turn of the century Illinois state orphanage system, are even more terrifying. The subject of the novel is a group of young girls (often depicted nude and sporting penises) who are assisted by friendly monsters in a war against an adult male army. It is called The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinnian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion.

What makes Darger, and other rare "outsider artists" like him, so special is that art of any kind is typically very derivative. From the first time we pick up a crayon we are conditioned by the lines we fill and the images we are shown and techniques we are given to emulate. Darger apparently had few influences other than those generated by his own unique mind (he was posthumously diagnosed with Ausperger's syndrome).

I am not saying that these children are developing as artists in a vacuum, but when given that they are trying to express visually concepts that are not only new to them in many cases but also presented in a language they are only just beginning to learn they certainly qualify at minumun as having fresh perspectives. There is also evidence ("Is Google Making Us Stupid" Harpers Magazine July/August 08) that the language center of the brain develops differently in people whose language is pictographic (like Chinese) versus those with a phonetic/character based system (like English) and that the cognitive affect of this is far reaching, effecting everything from emotive response to image making. This isn't hard to understand: if your word for love is a picture not a set of interchangeable characters, the emotion itself would take on that specific association far more readily. The Korean language, Hangul, is in many ways a hybrid language, with pictographic-looking symbols created from phonetic characters. In many ways it represents the best of both concepts: the beauty of an image-like presentation with the convenience of phonetics and character construction.

The children continue to amaze me. Every day one of them comes up with something at which I can only shake my head. And one of the most fascinating things about being here and doing what I am doing is that I have a front row seat from which to observe the development of the Eastern mind. "Earthquake" generated a lot of human characters and tilted buildings in the middle of zig-zag lines, as if the pencil marks were illustrating the motion they felt. "Safety" (likely preconditioned a bit by my simple definition "being careful so people don't become sick or hurt") brought pictures of human carnage with "X"s drawn very carefully through them (the hand sign for no is not the western palm out hand waggle but two crossed forefingers or, in extreme cases, forearms). For "soft" I got bunnies and puppies, but also, interestingly, quite a few mothers cradling infants. "New" had shiny things (like rings with sparkle marks), but also wrapped presents and one bird nest with a chick emerging from an egg. Brilliant.

Hongdo and Home

2008-08-06T19:49:00.010+09:00

In 2004 a small production company with a minuscule budget shocked the film world by winning the Grand Prix at the Cannes Film Festival with Old Boy, a revenge thriller. One of the producers on the film was a young man named Kim Dong Joo.

He is a Mokpo native with homes in Seoul and Santa Barbara. He had returned to his hometown to commemorate the eighth anniversary of his father's death. He was on his way to a coffee house near my hotel when he spotted me sitting outside a small family store with a group of neighbors having a spot of Soju. He told me later that he could not believe his eyes. It was so hot, and I was obviously not having much luck with conversation, but the locals had welcomed me into their cabal and we were laughing like life-long friends. He asked me if I wanted to join him. I was very reluctant, since I have had bad experiences in these kinds of situations before, as you know, but he was intelligent and well-dressed and spoke very good English so I agreed to go to the coffee house if he promised to help me find my way back. We talked pretty much non-stop for the next four hours, when I was dropped off by his driver at the front door of my hotel. In the interim he told me about a project he was developing which centered around the idea that there was a fourth Wise Man. I am not going to go into specifics here at his request, but he ended up asking me if I would look at the draft of the script and I enthusiastically agreed.

We hung out the next night as well, when he met Jourdan and I at the coffee house and then took us on a midnight tour of Mokpo. It is an incredibly beautiful little town, and I never would have known without the hospitality of D.J.

Friday morning we rose early (me on three hours of sleep) and went to the ferry terminal to get on the boat. I am not sure what kind of engine the boat had but it was a big streamlined catamaran with twin impellers and it flew. Our seats were in the center of the boat on the second floor, right behind the cockpit. It didn't matter, because I didn't sit down much. We were only out to sea for maybe 15 minutes when the first wave of nausea struck the passenger compartment. I have never seen so many people so sick in my life. It was carnage. Martin was ill and spent the whole trip laying on the floor and poor Jourdan almost died. He has a lot of stomach problems as it is and is very thin as a result so any vomiting on his part is particularly dangerous. I spent most of the trip attending to him and others nearby. At one point the second floor ran out of bags and I went downstairs to get more (there were 90 upstairs and 240 downstairs and it was way worse in the forward section of the downstairs where the wave action was particularly brutal). I managed to procure about five bags nonetheless, which I palmed into Jourdan's cargo pocket.

We arrived at the island after about two and a half hours and were deposited onto a long wharf lined with Hoe stands and touristy-type souvenir hawkers. We were shepherded into an area along the beach reserved for our tour and were given a long set of instructions in vehement Korean. Where we were to eat, how we were to procure our tour boat tickets, how and where we were to board the tour boat, how to procure our return ticket, how and where to board the return ferry, all of this I am certain was explained in great detail. We had to wing it. Jourdan, the only one of us with operational Korean, spent the entire meeting on the ground in the fetal position.

The island was shaped kind of like an 8 with the settled area straddling the narrow part and a harbors adjacent to each. We followed some people from our group over the saddle to the other side and went into a little dining room with seating for maybe 40 people. The meal was a simple fish soup with lots of good Korean sides. I told a guy nearby who could speak English that Jourdan had not fared well on the trip over, this explaining the death mask he was still wearing. The man produced a small brown vial with Chinese writing and told Jourdan to drink it after he had eaten. Up to this point Jourdan had no intention of eating, but the possibility of relief spurred him to eat most of his rice and a bit of soup. (I ate like a man possessed and was still hungry when they kicked us out so the next shift could eat.) He then drank what we came to call 'The Secret Serum," and never had a bit of seasickness again.

Woe to those who did not procure Secret Serum, because if the trip over was bad, the boat tour around the island was of another order. The boat driver went out of his way to help, running us as close to the cliffs as possible and searching out special spots which maximized simultaneous pitch and roll. I loved it. In retrospect, I cannot believe that the poor sick people even got on the thing. But they did, and the basement of the little tour boat became a very sicky sick bay.

Hongdo Island is without a doubt the most beautiful place I have ever seen. The cliffs were past vertical, hanging out over the churning sea in places. Spires and caves and pinnacles and balancing rocks and reefs and atolls and the beautiful harbors. It really took one's breath away. I sat up on the front of the boat snapping pictures until the tour guide can and grabbed me and my stuff just before the whole front of the boat got washed over by a huge wave. I would have been gone. At one point a fishing boat tied up along side and the crew began killing, gutting, filleting, an slicing them up to sell to the passengers. I was sick of Hoe and at 30000won a plate (with sides and a bottle of Soju) it was a bit pricey, but it looked great and it was a great piece of showmanship.

We got back in and split up to go sightseeing. I went down to the beach. It was a boulder beach, some of the rounded rocks ten feet across. I decided to go swimming but it was very difficult to get into the water, I soon discovered. It was possible to boulder hop down to the water, but getting past the break without breaking something was not easy. I hopped out and thought I was doing fine until a large wave came in and I was down on the rocks. I later discovered (during a similar fall on the way back in) that float-crawling up right up to the shoreline in the water was a much better strategy. Once in the water it was magical. The water was clear blue-green with great visibility. The boulders, which varied greatly in size, continued out into the water, and it was possible to find large ones to stand atop far out into the water. I must have looked quite humorous to the assembled onlookers, a tiny head far out in the water topped by a bright red Cardinals cap. (I have learned to swim with my hat to avoid scalp and facial burning.)

On the way out of the water I found the area around my clothes surrounded by a group of squealing children who were "crab fishing" in the rocks of the wave zone. They each had a piece of fish about the size of an open matchbook which they were dangling down between the rocks. When a crab snuck out and grabbed the bait they would scream for the bucket, which their mother would bring over. The tricky bit was to gently pull the crab up and into the bucket without making it turn loose. They were not getting many crabs into the bucket but they were sure having fun. When I came up out of the water they pointed at me and laughed their heads off until their mom made them quit. My belly is a never ending source of glee to Korean children. When I reach up to illustrate a point in class and inadvertently expose myself it takes five minutes to restore order.

We boarded the ferry and off we went. I had made quite a few friends by this point and spent most of the trip down by the engine room drinking beer with the boys. I met the captain and we chatted for a bit. He explained to me what little I know about the technical details of the ship.

Once home we went out to eat at the coffee house D.J. took me to the previous night. It is housed in a beautiful building that he told me used to be the home of the Japanese governor of the province during the occupation. It has a beautiful garden and incredible woodwork and tiles. It is called "Chateau..." something and I had BEEF and Jourdan had a chicken curry and it was delicious. After dinner up to the tea room for loose Chamomile and a meet an tour with D.J.

There is an area in Mokpo which houses five beautiful museums (art, modern art, folk art, natural history, and history) and we had considered going but by the next morning we were still beat and decided to head for Busan. The bus left at about 10 AM and we got back to town at 4:30 PM, about an hour late, but the trip was nice. And it only cost 25000won. Travel here is quite a value.

I went to pick up the cat from Min Ha's house as she had made her deathly ill (she later had to go to the hospital for an IV) and got home in good time.

On Sunday Yoo Jin came to Busan for a visit (YAY!) and we went to a wonderful sushi buffet in Dongnae, the kind with the conveyor belt that I love so much. We didn't eat much off the belt though because one of the sushi chefs kind of adopted us and handed down his personal recommendations. It was divine. Later that night we met Min Ha and her friend and Jourdan for a meal at the Indian restaurant near KSU, which I would recommend. The garlic naan, tandoori chicken and mutton curry were especially good.

Up then next day for school. It was refreshing to see my kids. I didn't realize how much I had missed them. I got a lot of hugs on Monday and that kind of dulled the post-vacation depression.

Well. That finally brings this blog somewhat up to date. I have 188 pictures for this post and they are here.

The Self and the Other.

2008-08-06T07:30:00.003+09:00

I mentioned in my previous blog that I sat for a while in a temple at Hyang-iram in a lotus position. This is not to say that I meditated. Neither is it to say that I didn't. Frankly, I don't know what I did. I do know that there is a reason that people go to places like this and spend years sitting still in contemplation. It is because the mind, just like the body, responds to training. The Buddhist monk, to me, is a kind of mental gymnast, training the mind to revert to what seems to most of us an unnatural and ineffective way of thinking: the complete rejection of the ego and a complete assimilation into the Other. I have been thinking about this a lot lately and, finding myself inconveniently bereft of my personal library, have turned to the internet for some thoughts on the matter. I have found a short video (10m), a multi-media adaptation of an old lecture by Alan Watts which sheds some light on the distinction between these worldviews. Even if you don't agree with it you will enjoy the pretty pictures. By the way. I am not trying to convert anyone to Buddhism. I am not even trying to convert myself. I am just trying to understand what is a fundamental part of the culture in which I find myself immersed. Plus, I find the subject fascinating and it touches on my specialty within the humanities: phenomenological ecocriticism.

Please watch video here.

Yoo Gin

2008-08-05T17:44:00.005+09:00

Yoo Gin is a beautiful 24-year-old university student from Deagu (about an hour way from Busan) majoring in French. She speaks passable English, I speak a little Korean by now, and I know a little French, so our conversations are pretty special. Her name, which means both "Is Star" and "Is Dragon", rhymes with Blue Jean, and that is the nickname I gave her. When I told her that, she said "Daveed Bowie" and laughed. She knows everything about music, art, literature, and film. She wants to be a film critic after graduation.

She was waiting for a cab, too, and was obviously alone and backpacking, so after she helped me talk to the cabby I asked her if she was hungry and wanted to come along. She smiled and nervously assented. Dinner was great (samgyopsal, my favorite. We never did find the dak galbi) and I was happy to have someone to talk to. My mood had changed immediately and we were all smiles. We talked about her and about me and about traveling and when I told her that one of the subjects of my masters project was Wordsworth, she named her favorite Romantic: William Blake. I said: "Songs of Innocence." She said: "Songs of Experience." I should have run at that point but reason had failed me.

We spent a wonderful evening down by the seaport, watching the lights of the city and the stars on the water and talking about everything. I told her that I was going to Geomundo the next day and asked if she would like to go. She said yes. (I slept on the floor.)

The next day when we got to the ferry terminal (at 7 AM) there was a commotion at the ticket desk. We learned through hand signals that the ferry had been cancelled due to inclement weather. This left us in a little bind as we had already turned in our key and there is no such a thing as a breakfast restaurant in Yeosu (we looked). I told her about how beautiful Dolsando had been and we decided to go back there. It was to early for a bus out there so we ended up taking a cab. The trip took 40 minutes and only cost 20000won. Ridiculously cheap. After we got there I tried to find a motel that would let us have rooms at that point in the morning, which was hard. I eventually found one that would let us check in at 8:30 AM without charging for two days. After naps and showers and an early lunch we climbed back up the hill to the temple. It was still beautiful.

I asked Yoo Jin to show me how to pray and enter the shrines and we found one far out of the way with nobody there and sat in the quiet of the temple in the lotus position for a while. It is amazing to me to think of the amount of contemplation that has occurred in these ancient places. The temple at Hyang-iram was built in the 8th century.

I attempted again to find the trail on up the mountain but never did. Later that evening we went to a restaurant overlooking the sea and had a wonderful Hoe (raw seafood) dinner. The scenery and the food and the company were incredible. We walked the wharf that night and met a nice kid from Canada named Jourdan (teaching English in Busan, too), with whom I later spent the last couple days of my trip.

Yoo Gin and I spent many hours talking. She is a very special and beautiful girl. I like her very much. (Co Co Co!)

The next day Yoo Jin had to go home so I took the bus with her into Yeosu and we had lunch at Pizza Hut (salad bar (!!!) and shrimp pesto pizza), and I bid her farewell after exchanging contact info and planning a meet when I got back. At that point I took off by bus to Mokpo (on the Western coast), where I met Jourdan and a German he had met en route named Martin. We got tickets for the ferry out to Hongdo Island and had dinner (more Hoe, of which I am through for a bit). Jourdin and Martin went off to bed, but I was not ready, so I went outside and set on a pallet with some old ladies and sipped on some Soju. And that is when I met the Korean movie producer.

Dolsando and Yeosu

2008-08-04T19:11:00.000+09:00

The following post was began on Tuesday afternoon and never posted because of lack of internet access:

There was a technical difficulty which required me to put off my trip to Geomundo Island until tomorrow. The electricity here in Korea comes out of the plug at 22o volts. My computer and my cell phone charger both handle that fine but the charger for my camera batteries is strictly 110. I was tempted to plug it in and see what would happen, but I didn't want to burn up the batteries or the charger or the hotel so I came back to Yeosu to try and find a 220 charger.

The bus ride on the way back to town was quite eventful. I met a Canadian couple on the bus. At least I think they were. She was Canadian but he said "Gooday" like an Ausie so I am not sure but they were on vacation and we talked for a bit. She was interested in my teaching gig. The driver drove like a maniac but I thought that we were fine unless we met the outbound bus coming at us in the wrong lane. At one point we slowed down slightly at a small fishing village and an old woman flagged down the bus. The driver opened the door and started yelling at her, but, undeterred, she started heaving in these huge bags of what I think were dried clams. After the second one one of the people in the front of the bus got up and started helping. The driver, who to this point hadn't hit the brakes once on a trip that would have been best measured in altitude, kept up a tirade the entire time. Finally, after what must have been forty-five seconds of blissful stasis, we screamed onward. The bags of clams slid back and forth in the isle as we careened back to Yeosu.

When we arrived the bus went away from the area I wanted to go to (it was a different number than the one I took to Dolsando). After a while I began to recognize a few things, or think I did. About this time the old lady started to drag the bags back to the rear exit of the bus. I knew we were downtown somewhere, which should have been near the street where all the hotels were. When she rang the bell I got up to help. She was already out and had one bag down before I got around her. The driver was a bit calmer but I could hear him muttering. She let me unload the rest and then opened her little metal folding cart and I loaded two of the bags on there and she nodded at me and took off. I watched her wobble off trailing the cart, down the right lane of the busiest street in Yeosu and around the corner out of sight. Now I am standing there, in the street, with two huge bags of clams. I tried to pick them up and take off after her but with my bag and the heat it was too much. So I stood there and waited.

Back she came, about three minutes later. I helped her load the other two gave her a bow and made off. Now the question became: where am I? I wasn't sure, for sure even, which way the ocean was anymore. So I did the old standby: hail a cab. I raised my hand and before I got it up a cab was stopped for me. I hopped in and asked him to take me to "Sky Motel," the cheapest one recommended by Lonely Planet that offered computers in the rooms. Either he didn't understand me or didn't know where it was but he kind of tooled around while he did some checking on the cell phone. When he found out where it was he started laughing and pointed back to where I had got on. Sure enough. I had been standing a stones throw from it to begin with. In my defense, the sign didn't say "Sky Motel," it said "[cartoon sun] Motel." Anyway, I checked in and got to my room which is nice and it is cheap and it has a computer, but it is odd. It has a round bed. And mirrors.

I eventually found a 220 charger and I found the ferry terminal and later on I am going to check out another island that is within walking distance and is accessible via footbridge.

This is as far as I got with the original post. To pick up there then, I took off from the hotel on foot in search of small, scenic, Odongdo Island. The guide book said that the it could be walked to in 30-minutes, which would probably be true if you could find it. I followed the signs until I got lost and hailed a cab. When I got there it was starting to cloud up and the day was waning, but there were many Koreans on the road train across the causeway and more on foot. I walked across and began to walk around the Island. The pathway was steep, but pretty. It was lined with the pines common to those parts and some areas were roped off beside the path. A sign in Korean showed a picture of a small lily that must be endangered on the island because these areas were full of the small plants, although not in bloom of course. I walked up and up and had likely reached the high point of the island when I came to the sign for 'dragons cave." I could see that all of my hard won altitude was going to be spent on a trip down the the cave but I went down anyway. I am glad I did. This part of the island was facing the sea, and, even on a relatively calm day, the waves were crashing against the shore. A slit cave not more than a couple of yards wide lay at the back of a short inlet. The inlet funneled the waves into the cave with an intense crash, often meeting the water coming back out. It was quite spectacular. There was a wide ledge above the sea that went around the small point nearby and I walked around it to the other side where waves were washing up onto the rocks of a larger inlet. I made movies of both of these things which I will post.

I climbed the steps back up to the path and was going to climb further up to the lighthouse, but I heard music down toward the other end of the island and went down to see what was going on. I had read about the dancing fountain in the guidebook but I wasn't prepared for the sight. I came down a short path and first encountered the back what looked like a giant moving wall of water. The fountain is composed of thousands of individual nozzles, some static, some in motion, and all lit from below with lights constantly changing in color and intensity. This lighting and the motion of the water were choreographed to the music coming from a large surround sound system. There were platforms and benches across the way were everyone was sitting, so I repaired that way to watch the show. It was spectacular but the best part of the show were the children playing in a smaller dancing fountain build into the floor in the center of the amphitheater. It too was choreographed, each hole in the ground making its own contribution. The children stood on or near the holes waiting for the water to make its seemingly random expulsion. They were wound up to say the least, screaming with delight every time they took a jet of water in the face or the shorts. I nearly joined them, but the adults were all staying dry so I reluctantly abstained.

One of the things that surprised me was how little I had begun to care for solitary travel. There were so many things to see and do, but none of it seemed nearly as fun without someone to share it with. I was feeling pretty down on the walk back to the lot. It was clouding up and getting dark and I was hungry and tired and didn't feel like going back to the dingy hotel and sitting there my myself. I was dejected really. I went back to the cab stand and started trying to explain where I wanted to go eat, a dak galbi restaurant in the guidebook, and was getting nowhere. That is when I met the girl.

Home

2008-08-02T17:30:00.003+09:00

Just got in. I am absolutely exhausted and exhilarated and have so much to write but it ain't happening tonight. I would like to take my time and put out the details of my trip in a few different posts. After Tuesday I no longer had access to the internet, but I took the time throughout the week to make careful notes. And the trip was incredible. I made several great new friends and saw some amazing places. I am sunburned and stinky. And very happy. More to come.

Yeosu and Dolsando

2008-07-28T20:59:00.006+09:00

“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been. Travellers don’t know where they are going.”
Paul Thereaux.

I woke, packed, and stared at the clock. My bus didn’t leave until 10:30 and I needed to get on the subway no earlier than 9:30 but I was antsy and ready so I set out on foot. It had rained sometime in the night and Busan had that universal just rained on streets smell and everything was shiny and the air was clear and cool. I had packed only the basics, but after a long inner debate I had decided to take my laptop, which meant the charger and cables and a much heavier pack and fewer clothes but the pack I have is built for the weight and I cinched down the straps snug and it rode nicely. I have only brought the minimum of clothing, planning to wash and wear as I go. We will see how this works.

I arrived in plenty of time at the bus station, which is located above Nopodong subway station. I had bought my ticket the previous day, so I knew where I was headed. I had time for a lackluster fast food lunch at the terminal and then went out to the gates to find my bus. I was waiting around out there and I noticed a Caucasian reading a Lonely Planet just like mine and I asked him if he was coming or going. He said his name was Hans and he was from Holland and he had just arrived in Busan and was backpacking around Korea on the way to Japan. He had been on the road for about a month. I told him about the Beomeosa and recommended he stop there since he was close (which is one stop from Nopodong and therefore on his way into town).

I got on the bus and it left on schedule. I paid a little extra for the express and these busses are very nice. The seats are huge and they recline to about 45 degrees and there is tons of legroom. Only three seats per row, two, then an aisle, then one by itself. It was well worth it. I didn’t sleep very well the night before and I put my feet up and leaned my seat back and tipped my Cardinal hat down and I was out. I woke up and the bus was stopped. It was still on the highway but it was a parking lot. We crawled along for about an hour and then we started going again and after a while we came to a rest stop and everyone got out and went pee and got a snack. I bought a bottle of water for myself and the older lady sitting next to me. She was very nice. I got some little doughnut like things that were stuffed with red bean past and I shared those with her too.

When we got to the station in Yeosu I crossed the street to the city bus stop and started trying to decipher the bus schedule to see which one went downtown. I must have been giving off “I’m lost” signals, because before long a Korean guy came up to me and asked where I was trying to go. The only thing I recognized on the schedule from my book is a place called Jinnamgwan, so I told him that. He looked at the busses coming in and told me which one to get on and showed me where to get off. Nice folks here.

Jinnamgwan is the largest wooden structure in Korea. It is also very old. Yeosu played an important part in one of the most celebrated events in Korean history: the time an outnumbered and outgunned Korean navy whipped the crap out of the Japanese navy in the 1590’s. I took lots of pictures of the English captions in the museum there so you can find out more about it if you want. Admiral Yi Sun-sin used an intimate knowledge of the tides and underwater landscape to trap a superior Japanese force repeatedly. This prevented the Japanese from securing Korea as a stepping stone to conquer China. Unfortunately the Japanese were more successful at this later.

While there I met a nice man who volunteered to help at the pavilion through his senior citizen program. He spoke English very well and wanted to know all about me. He took my picture and showed me around the place. When I went into the pavilion he reminded me to remove my shoes. It really is an impressive place. There were not surprisingly about two hundred fire extinguishers in there. It was a very hot day but under the pavilion it was nice and cool. The 68 huge pillars that support the massive roof were several feet in circumference and made of pine. The view looked out over the entire harbor and far out to sea. It was the perfect vantage point from which to direct a naval defensive.

It had been my plan to walk down to the street where all the hotels were and find a cheap one and check in and get cleaned up before I went out sightseeing some more in Yeosu. But when I asked the man about the two hotels I read about in my guide he suggested that I go to stay at Dolsando Island, which is connected to the mainland by a bridge (the bridge you see in the pictures of the harbor). He told me about the Hyang-iram temple and said that the views from there are spectacular. Well, long story short, that is what I did. I always try to take the advice of the locals. It is rarely a mistake. I am writing now from a small but lovely hotel in the fishing village below the monastery. I ended up paying a little bit more than I intended for lodging (there were hotels in my guide for as little as W20000 in Yeosu proper but a computer room was at least W35000 and I paid W50000 for this one and you can see from the pictures what the view looks like for here and that is cheap for this kind of place. This is a $300 hotel anywhere I have ever been.)

I didn’t get here in time to go up to the temple, which closes at 6PM, so I am going to get up early and watch the sunrise over the ocean and hike the trails to the temple and scenic lookouts in the morning. I think I will catch the bus back to Yeosu (it’s almost an hour down to the Southern tip of Dolsando where I am. The road is very curvy and hilly). I think I will take the ferry out to Geomundo tomorrow and stay overnight there tomorrow night.

Both rural Korea and the coastal region here are amazing. If your favorite color is green like me, you are in for a treat. There are a thousand shades of it here and in abundance. The bright green of the young rice fields and the frilly pale green of the bamboo lining the roads and the deep green of the camellia and pine on the mountains and all of the orchards and gardens that are tended with such care and economy of space everywhere here. It is a visual explosion of chlorophyll. The shoreline here on the southern coast is craggy and recalls for me those classic Asian landscapes with the mountains in the mist. The waves beat on the shore. The ocean was a deep blue today, and the mist made the islands and mountains in the distance look ethereal.

I was sitting out on the deck of the hotel which overlooks the sea writing but the mosquitoes drove me into the bar. The hostess and her husband just invited me to share their dinner, but I ate before I came. They don’t speak any English so I showed her the pictures of the ridiculous spread they gave me for dinner and I think she understood. The one thing that really bothers me about the language barrier is the potential to seem rude. The people here are so heartbreakingly kind that it pains me to think that I might accidentally insult someone.

There are 123 pictures and funny captions in the latest photoblog. I am going to try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another big day.

Shadows

2008-07-27T12:34:00.007+09:00

It has been a month now and it's time for a look inside. I need to write about what I intended this journey to mean for me before I forget. I meant to become a better person. I haven't. It seems it doesn't matter how far you move, you can't move away from yourself.

Still...there are unavoidable positive effects. Anything good that has come from this on a personal level has probably been forced upon me, because I haven't applied myself to positive change in the least. This is sad in a way but also reassuring. I want to change and, speaking as an ecocritic, places change us. I guess, knowing that, I am very lucky to be where I am. This place is beautiful. Not just pretty, but profoundly, movingly special. It feels old. Like there are so many stories and so much history that it is somehow above the present. Beyond it.

It makes you feel pleasantly irrelevant at times, living in old cities, living surrounded by five million people, most of whom look at you as a curiosity. At the same time there are people here who care about me, who quietly expect more of me than I do of myself. This is the opposite of irrelevance. I remember the words of a philosopher I have forgotten that said if we found ourselves to be the last person alive we would no longer have rights but we would still have responsibilities. I never understood that till now.

Last night Min Ha asked me why I came here. I told her that I wanted to do something before I died. She has come to feel about this place much the same way I came to feel about my home. It came to feel like an old pair of shoes. Comfortable, but worn out. Covered with the stains of too many mistakes, out of fashion, taken for granted through the illusion of familiarity. What a tragedy. If you lose your home what have you got?

I don't know if I can ever come back. That is the greatest paradox. How do you come back home? On the way here I talked to a seasoned traveler who said that it was a simple matter to get bumped up to first class on international flights because they are almost always overbooked in coach. He also told me never to do it. Because once you fly first class you will never again be happy in the back of the plane. I know what he meant. I have crossed the ridge on a new vista. Home will never look the same again now.

I have plans. I have told myself that after my vacation things will be different. Again, luckily, a lot of the good things I want to do for myself are unavoidable. There will be more walking and less drinking. There will be less fried chicken out and more fried rice at home. There will be less coloring book and more intensive speech and penmanship training. There will be more sitting still. Less talking. More listening.

It has been a hard landing. You don't know how hard. But I have landed on my feet. The struggles of the early days seem almost laughable now. I have learned to make my way in this place. The daily practicalities of survival are finally comprehensible. Now comes the real work. If I am to remake myself, and I intend to, then this is likely my last best opportunity.

Photo by Stuart Dunvley.

A Saturday Morning Walk on Market Street

2008-07-26T13:11:00.005+09:00

Today's post is a caption rich photoblog edition and it can be accessed right here. Sorry for all spelling and grammar errors. I try to edit this blog for errors but the interface on the photoblog is not as user friendly. Enjoy!

English Language Books in Busan

2008-07-24T19:04:00.003+09:00

After several failed attempts I have finally located a bookstore with a substantial section of English language books. Young Kwang bookstore is located just outside of Seomyeon station, exit 9, down a side street across the road from Lotte department store (Next to Han Bank). Just inside the door they have a small rack of magazines (I bought a copy of the Economist. If you can only afford one magazine that is the one to get). Further back there is a larger rack that had mostly fashion and hobby stuff, but they did have National Geographic and Food and Wine. It was strictly buy-to-read. Everything was wrapped. Down in the basement I found a room full of English language books, including an excellent contemporary fiction section and a great set of classics. I bought a novel, Waiting by Ha Jin, which I had seen reviewed a couple of months ago. I can't wait to read it.

The area around Seomyeon is the busiest section of Busan at night. The streets are closed for the most part and the place is given over to pedestrians shopping and eating and drinking and singing. It is quite a scene. This was the first time I have been down there in the daylight and it really is a neat place. There are a lot of little plazas tucked away here and there with places for people to sit outdoors. To call Seomyeon a subway station is kind of misleading. It is an underground shopping mall about five times bigger than the mall at home. You can find almost anything down there. You can get seriously lost. I couldn't find the exit marked on my instructions and I came up to the surface and a couple of guys pointed me the way. It was across the road. I looked around for a crossing. There were none. The only way to get across any roadway in about a 5 square block area is to go back underground and come back up where you need to be. This is just as well because about six major roads intersect at Seomyeon rotary on the surface.

The books at the bookstore are a bit expensive, but I am going to try to get a swap system going with some readers I know here. It is a comfort regardless to know that it is there. If you are reading this and are interested in participating in such a thing drop me an email.

I got my alien registration card and my passport back in the nick of time. I am going to go to the bank tomorrow and open an account here so that I can get paid before I leave on my trip. This is good. I wasn't looking forward to carting around a million won in cash on the journey. I am also going to be registered at the foreign teacher place tomorrow, so I will be officially official.

I ate at home tonight. This is probably the third time. I had a foam bowl of just-add-water noodles and they were of all things greasy. Good greasy. They had the noodles and a spice packet and a little plastic wrapped block of something that looked like a chewed up pink rubber eraser. This turned out to be meat. Pork I think. And it was good. It was very very spicy. I have been eating spicy food here for every meal and it hasn't bothered me at all. Asian spices don't hurt me like Mexican spices for some reason. The only thing that bothers me a little is the spicy beach chicken. I am going to try to eat in a bit more for economic reasons, although for me to eat at home cheaper than going out the just-add-water noodles are about the only option.

It was a good day. If I walk to work tomorrow I am going to take a shirt to change into. It isn't unbearably hot here, although it is warm. It is the 80% humidity that gets you. It is like walking around wet all day. It was supposed to rain every day this week. It hasn't rained since Sunday. I wish it would pour. I would run around in it.

I really appreciate the emails. When I open my mailbox and there are a couple of notes in there it really makes my day. Don't be afraid to tell me the mundane.

I took some pictures of my bookstore hunt. There are a few of the Krispy Kreme factory in the subway. It is very difficult to walk past that place. If only I hadn't of spent all my money on books...

Rambling Man

2008-07-23T19:49:00.009+09:00

Here's a little bit about my day. I usually get up between 6 and 8:45 AM. If I get up in time I put some water on for tea (I brought a small box of PG Tips with me, and this is a must for any care packages, hint hint) and hop in the shower. If not, I put on my pants and limp out the door. Why is it that the times you don't have time for a shower and a cup of tea are the times you need them the most? But usually I shower, check my email, sip tea, feed and play the cat, and out the door I go.

Speaking briefly of the cat. She plays fetch. I have never had a cat like this before. I won a Hello Kitty mini-pillow from a balloon pop stand at Haeundae Beach and she claimed it as her own immediately. She started bringing it back when I threw it. I am actually not sure who taught who to play fetch now that I think about it. She is really a character. Her preferred place to sleep is on or near my loins. She is so cute.

9:00. I catch a bus outside across the street. Now, I have three choices. I can walk about 300 meters one way or 500 meters the other and cross at the signalled pedestrian crossings or I can take my life in my hands and cross the six lanes of angry traffic and go in a more direct fashion to the bus stop. I have done all three. The drivers here, justifiably, feel that if they have to stop regularly in between intersections to let pedestrians cross then if anyone attempts to cross elsewhere they are fair game. In other words, they try to run you down. And even if they are too far away to run you down, they display their rage at not being able to run you down by standing on their horns for the twenty or so seconds it takes them to come abreast of you.

The bus service here is ridiculous. The buses that are an option for my morning commute (57, 86, 87, 49-1, and a few others) come at about two minute intervals. Sometimes they are packed, but that just makes it more fun. In the morning. In the evening, when I and everyone else smells like a goat fart, not so much. I like to have a box of fried chicken on hand to dispel the stench at that point. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I get off the bus about half way up the mountain to my school if I take 86 or 87. The others drop me at the bottom. I have learned to bear this in mind at the bus stop. Better a packed 86 than an empty 57. I get out and start my way up the hill. Most mornings, by the time I get to school, I am soaked with sweat. On the days that I walk all the way it is worse. I have walked a few times, and I like it, but it really kills me. It is uphill the whole way. (I live down by the river, at nearly sea level.) I get to school, remove my shoes, walk up three flights of stairs and sit at my desk for a bit trying to cool off and relax amid the screaming of 100 or so children.

9:30. After I cool off and make my coffee (everyone here drinks a powdered "milk coffee" that comes in huge bags of individual serving packets at the super. I make mine double strength and this gets me to nap time), I make the trip back downstairs to the kitchen to get one of the two huge pots of rice that feed our floor. I huff the rice upstairs and put it in one of the huge rice cookers and start it off and it is done at lunch time.

9:55. After another breather I get ready to start my morning classes. The kids in the morning are preschoolers or kindergarten. They don't start elementary school till they are eight. I have three different classes and I meet with each of them once or twice depending on the day. These are my favorite classes and my most challenging. I have been driven to tears by some of these kids, and I love some of them more than I knew I was capable of loving someone, and some of those are the same people. There is really no way to describe it. I have four classes in before lunch and one after.

12:15. Lunch. If I get out of class in time and have anything physically left I go downstairs and help tote up some of the lunch. I have kind of adopted the soup can. All of the children have partitioned stainless steel lunch trays that they take home and bring back clean everyday. I go around to my rooms first and dip out a small dipper of soup into one of the two large compartments in their trays. The other is already full of rice (they stand in line for rice and then sit down and wait for everything else). Meanwhile the girls are doling out the other items. They get about a cup of rice, a half a cup of soup, and about an eighth of a cup of three other items, two veggie and one meat or tofu. They bring their own drink. I am constantly accused of a) giving my classes the best chunks at the bottom of the soup bucket, and b) giving everyone too much soup. Everyone then meets back at the lunch counter and we dole out what is left to all of us teachers. I put the soup in the soup bowls (stainless) and help pass out the chopsticks and spoons (also stainless. Korea is unique in using all stainless bowls and utensils and there is a myth that it comes from an ancient king who was saved by the silver bowl he was using tarnishing in the presence of poison but I don't think that is the whole story. It is strange though, and nearly a universal custom). We have had: squid stew, tofu pancakes, beef bulgogi, marinated pork, or bean bake for our protein. Veggies almost always include some form of cabbage, radish, seaweed, and hot peppers. Today we had eggplant. Blucky. I have been trying to eat at school more for budgetary and camaraderie reasons but if I depended on it for survival I would be in trouble. My mother has a friend who almost starved to death teaching in China.

11:45. After eating I usually have about half an hour to kill so I go upstairs to my afternoon classroom, which I don't share, and take a nap. It has really helped me stay alert during the afternoon if I do this. I put on my headphones (Kind of Blue is best), turn the fan directly onto myself, prop my head up on a water bottle, lock the door, and I am out. I haven't overslept yet, but today I woke up four minutes before my next class.

1:25. I then teach my last "morning" class and have a twenty minute break before I start my afternoon classes. The first two are beginners, the second two are intermediate, and the last two are advanced. I meet with the first beginners Monday through Friday and they other four Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesday and Thursday the second two classes are advanced and then I get to go home at 5:00 PM. The other three days I am there till 6:30.

6:30 I catch the bus back home. I sometimes pick up some takeout chicken (OMG it's good!) to take with me. Sometimes I go home and regroup and go to one of the little places on the side streets near my house. I have become acquainted now with the folks at two restaurants in particular and they know that I don't speak Korean and are patient with me as I try to order using my phrasebook. I have stopped looking at the menu and trying to match what I have in my book to something they have on there. I just order what I want out of my book and if they don't have it they tell me. I like sae-u pukkumbap (shrimp fried rice) and manduguk (stuffed dumpling soup), among other things. All Korean meals come with soup (unless the entree is soup then you get rice) and a selections of side dishes (panch'an). A lot of times, these constitute the majority of the meal. Kimchee is always present, as are some form of pickled radish. Also common is a kind of chopped cabbage salad topped with a creamy garlic dressing or thousand island. Sliced garlic, a variety of sauces, dried fish or squid, kimbap (like a California roll with vegetables and either crab meat or spam filling), seaweed salad, pickled vegetables, spicy eggplant (in season now, unfortunately), fresh fruit (usually melon), acorn jelly (think dirt jello, not bad if you don't think about it or chew). Every place has their own specialties and at my regular place there is always something different. Some of these things are delicious in their simplicity. Sliced cucumbers and peppers in a rice wine vinaigrette with cold clear noodles. A red potato salad with chopped spinach, red onion and anchovy paste. Cold vegetable omelette topped with black bean sauce and chopped peanuts. All of it is wonderful.

At home for the evening I have been having trouble occupying myself at times. I have been strongly discouraged from doing what I am want to do. I have found several positive alternatives. I have already described the walks that I enjoy so much. I have also recently subscribed to MLB.com so I can listen to archived games. I am listening to last night's Cubs/Arizona game as we speak. (I have to listen to them about 12 hours after they end so don't send me an email telling me what happened. I will be very angry.) My other wholesome entertainment involves a small cat and a Hello Kitty pillow.

Well, I didn't really have a plan for this post but I am glad I got a little description of my typical day out there. I have been meaning to do that for some time. I hope you enjoyed. I still have a lot of other things to tell you about. And still planning out a bit of a trip for this coming week. More on that later. Bye.

Oh, I almost forgot. Today was the monthly birthday party for the July birthdays. Here are some cute kid pictures. The video was a command performance and priceless.

Analytics

2008-07-22T18:10:00.010+09:00

I was curious about this blog: if anyone is reading it and who and where they are coming from and what I found out was quite surprising.

I installed a bit of .html code into my blog from Google Analytics. Now I know next to nothing about this type of thing, but there were instructions for a variety of blog platforms, and since mine, Blogger, comes from Google, the instructions were especially clear. I waited a couple of days and the thing spit out a report. Here is what it said:

On Sunday and Monday of this week I had 156 unique site visits from nine US states and seven different countries with 249 total page views. One guy from Germany spent almost 14 minutes on the site and this was a record: he must have been looking at pictures or something. The average time spent on the site was 2:03 which I don't think is shabby, considering all the stuff that one could be looking at. Of these, 26 were direct hits, meaning that the people who came here clicked on a link in an email or in a bookmark or typed that address directly into their address bar. The other 130 were referred hits, meaning that they clicked on a link in a website.

This latter bit surprised me, because I didn't know right off what website could have my blog listed. I looked into the report for these (this thing has all the bells and whistles) and found that almost all of the referrals came from www.pusanweb.com. After looking high and low on that site I cannot find my blog listed anywhere, but it must be there somewhere because people are clicking from it.

Why does all of this matter? It doesn't. I would have kept writing it if the analytical contraption showed that my mother was the only one reading it. This might sound a bit odd, but there have been times when writing this helped me keep it together. Sometimes it has been hard, and remembering that there is a world outside and that this is an adventure worth capturing in words has really brought me back to where I am and why. So it doesn't really matter that people in Brazil and Singapore read my blog. It just makes me feel good to know that someone is out there following along.

Note: I mainly wrote this post to piss off C-Dawge, who thinks this whole thing is an exercise in narcissism. And he's right. Hi C-Dawge!

Beomeosa Temple

2008-07-20T15:19:00.000+09:00

I walked out the door into a pouring rain to go to the old Buddhist temple in the hills north of town. Undeterred, I took the subway out and found the right bus (90) with the help of my trusty Lonely Planet guide and took a harrowing trip up the mountain. The bus driver used both lanes and actually passed cars going up to the temple. All arrived safely and disembarked. It was then I was actually glad that it had been raining (it having stopped by then), as I was met by the sound of cascading water. The whole hillside was filled with running streams and waterfalls. Water basically runs through the whole temple complex. It made for a very peaceful sound.

I walked up the path toward the temple entrance and was met by a group of people who offered me tea. One, a man named Kim, could speak some English and told me he was a tour guide. I asked him some questions and he was very helpful, accompanying me as far as the main gate and taking my picture there. When I began to walk through he stopped me and showed me the respectful way to enter. Holding my hands in the prayer position just below the chin I was to say 'hananim annyong haseyo,' which translates 'good morning Buddha." He gave me a quick breakdown of the rules regarding photography and sent me on my way. A series of buildings were lined up on the path up to the main courtyard. The first held a group of four large Buddhas, two on each side. They were seated and measured about ten feet tall in that posture. Each held a different set of objects and they represented different attributes of God. See the photo section for my interpretation of the attributes. No pictures allowed in there so you will just have to imagine. On up further there was another building that I don't know what purpose it served except maybe an inner gate. Then I reached the main courtyard.

The path up from the main gate actually led to the back of the main temple. Inside of the main building there was an altar made of gold and mats for sitting meditation and a piano among other things. The courtyard held two of the temples most revered and ancient objects. A stone lantern and a pagoda. Both of these objects are on the Korean list of National Treasures. Surrounding the main courtyard on the next level up were a series of shrines. I don't know why, but I was surprised to see that they were all full of worshipers. Some were sitting in meditation. Some were bowing in a seated position. Some were doing a bow that started in the standing position and ended with the forehead touching the floor. These latter were completely soaked in sweat.

Korean Buddhism is kind of a mix of Chinese, Japanese, Confucian, and Shamanistic influences. Buddhism first came to Korea in 370 AD and has coexisted with the original Shamanistic religion since. Many temples have shrines occupied by both Buddha and shamanic dieties like the Mountain God. There are also traces of Japanese elements like ancestor worship. The shrines were lined with shelves filled with tiny statues with names printed under them. A lot of the bowing was going on in front of these. I believe that they were somehow related to ancestor worship. Large altars held sacrifices of rice and incense and candles and each was mounted by a large golden Buddha. There were at least five of these shrines.

I was kind of milling around in the courtyard when here came the monks. They were dressed in simple grey outfits with shaved heads. A couple looked at me with what I thought was sheepish curiosity. Most were rather young and the oldest was in the lead. They all appeared to be extremely happy. They walked through a courtyard to a door on a shrine at the right and disappeared. It was about this time that a gong started sounding. I looked at my watch and noted that it was noon and thought about how that gong must have been sounding at that time of day in that place for the last thousand years. Quite a thought. The gong sounded huge, and it had extremely deep and complex resonant undertones. I looked around but could never see where it was coming from. I have never heard a sound like that before.

I headed back down the way I came and near the main gate I noticed a little stand with souvenirs. I wanted to find a set of postcards. There were none but the guy pointed me over to the other side of the gate where there was another large temple and a parking lot. He said there were postcards over there. When I went out of the shop there were two men standing by a large stack of grey terra cotta roof tiles. They asked me if I would like to write something on one of them. They would be used when a new roof was put on the temple. I said of course and wrote a little message on there and my name and the date and gave them a donation of 10000 won and off I went.

When I got over to the other side of the gate a woman sitting by a little waterfall made the eating sign to me and pointed me toward a large building just up the hill. I was a bit hungry but I was on a mission for postcards. The building looked far newer than all the others and I thought there might be a gift shop there. When I got up there I was approached by three more older women who pointed me in the door and made the same sign and said "Eat, eat." I looked in and there was a large room full of tables and people were eating. Well, you don't have to tell me twice (OK, I guess they did), I went in. There was a serving line of women in a row of windows like a cafeteria. A little table with large and small stainless steel bowls sat at the head of the line. I turned around to see where I was supposed to pay, figuring I missed it, but there stood the three old ladies (they had likely followed me in anticipating this) and they took my wallet out of my hand and shoved it into my pocket and pushed me back toward the food line. I gave up. I was given a big scoop of rice and four different veggies and some red pepper sauce and some cold soup. I found a place to sit and took a picture of the food for you all to see and then I ate it. It was delicious, the cold cucumber and seaweed soup especially.

I finished up and headed out to find the postcards. I never did. I went down to the entrance and there was a group of women getting in a cab and the driver told me to hop in, too. I tried to pay for all of us but neither he nor they would hear of it. Got the train back to Yongsandong and walked home from there. It is so humid here right now that I am soaked with sweat within minutes. It must be good for me.

In a land of very pleasant people, the people at this temple were the nicest. And that really is saying something. They just made it really special. The women at the tea stand and in the kitchen must have been members of that congregation. I think they do that feed every Sunday. If it isn't raining and the weather is nice there are thousands of people at that place. My guide book said don't even go on Sunday. But they were all pitching in and finding strangers and shooing them in and everybody was just smiling their faces off. A truly wonderful experience. Kim told me to come back next Sunday and maybe I will.

There are some nice pictures.