Life in Suwonville

To be continued...

2010-03-09T21:26:00.001-08:00

Finally. This blog is being resumed at christopher-theotherside.blogspot.com

Quick update which serves as a bridge for more interesting material and the dullest title ever.

2008-04-24T09:30:00.000-07:00

Pictured here is a very popular and typical Korean dish--kimchi bok um bap (bohk oohm bahp), which was meant to be the second installment in my food series. In a nutshell, it's kimchi fried rice with an egg on top, but that's not important right now. I had a grand idea to do a series on Korean food and two things happened: One, My schedule shifted and it wasn't nearly as convenient to visit this restaurant for dinner. Two, which was of bigger influence, I got completely burned out on Korean food. I have been eating this stuff ten times a week for the last two years and have recently decided to take a break. I've been cooking more conventional food at home lately and eating at ethnic restaurants. Some friends and I not too long ago discovered a really good Mexican restaurant (which I never thought would happen here) near the air force base just a half an hour down the subway line, so we've been doing that quite a bit. Aside from kalbi (grilled meat with sides) I haven't eaten Korean food in weeks. I made an exception today and ordered bibimbap, but it wasn't so satisfying.

Point is that this food thing isn't going to happen. Korean food has become so common to me and I have eaten so much of it that I can't see myself waxing poetic about it on this blog. Perhaps someday I'll wax poetic about the Mexican place, which is fantastic. For now, the plan is to sort through my pictures from last weekend's wonderful excursion to Seorak mountain (Seoraksan, if anyone feels like googling it) and tell all about it. I have been playing soccer every Sunday (www.intersuwon.com) and we've been doing very well. However, it has been keeping me around Suwon and there hasn't been much adventure. Last weekend we had the Sunday off so I jumped on the opportunity to take a weekend trip and was not disappointed. In the meantime, I'd encourage everyone to check out intersuwon.com, as the team has a new beat writer. I'll post pics and a few words on the trip very soon. Missed you guys!!!

Let's see what's on the menu.

2008-02-20T02:48:00.001-08:00

It's been pretty low-key since I returned from Indonesia, and I've been racking my brain trying to figure out just how I could follow up such an amazing experience. There haven't been any adventures, nor have I done anything particularly notable this year. I seem to have slipped back into a routine and everything seems normal to me now. It recently occurred to me that normal over here might be fascinating to someone who has never lived where I do, so I decided to do a series on the seemingly mundane. Pictured is a normal, run-of-the-mill Korean restaurant. There are numerous chains like this and the menus are nearly identical. This particular restaurant, named Into the Kimbap, is especially good and inexpensive. I've been coming here for a while and I think it's the best standard Korean food around. I'm sure all of you are wondering exactly what standard Korean food is, so stick around and you might learn something.
I figured I'd start with my most standard dish--bibimbap. I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but this is a dish that I eat very regularly--especially during the summer. It's a simple dish consisting of rice, vegetables of varying kinds, and topped with an egg. I'm a sucker for anything with an egg on it. As always, the dish is accompanied by different kinds of kimchi and other sides, some of them quite funky at times. I can't say I touched the minnows, yech! The red bottle contains another standard: gochu jang. Gochu jang is a red pepper paste served with many dishes that has a sweet and mildly salty flavor. I like when it's on the side like this so I can control the amount put in my bibimbap.
After a little squirt of gochu, I mix it all together with my chopsticks and wharf it down. I really like this restaurant. I've had this same dish all over Korea and this place serves the best. This spread cost a whopping three thousand won (3 bucks), which is pretty damn reasonable for a healthy and satisfying meal. On a historical note, bibimbap was born in a city named Jeonju, which is about a three hour bus ride south. I went to this city for an afternoon in summer 2006, but was disappointed in that I didn't eat bibimbap. I've been meaning to go back on a pilgrimage to eat my favorite dish in it's purest form. I will do this sometime, and will be sure to make a full report.

Since there hasn't been much action on the blog lately, I had the idea to try everything on the menu at this restaurant and tell all about it. Food is a passionate hobby of mine and I have to say that the vast majority of the Korean I speak and know revolves around food. It was a big motivator for me to learn how to read Korean in that the majority of menus are written in Hangul. After every meal in this restaurant I tell the nice owner: "Jahl mok ah ssim ni da". Literally translated it means "I ate well", but it means more along the lines of "I was satisfied with my meal."

Last day and Final Thoughts.

2008-01-29T19:35:00.001-08:00

Thursday was my final day on Lombok, and I would fly to Jakarta the following day. I was still a little sore and tired from the trek, so I had no intentions of doing anything too grand. Instead, I enjoyed the downtime and spent most of the day playing in the waves, which were considerably powerful. I had considered a trip to nearby Gili Islands, but the water was too choppy to get transport. It rained most of the morning anyway, but cleared up in the afternoon. When I wasn't in the water, I spent my time on the strip having snacks and hanging out with the locals. There was a fine pub I ended up at where a certain local and I played pool for a good portion of the day.

This pool table was unlike any that I had played on before. It had the dimensions of a normal pool table and and the usual eight-ball rack. However, the balls were the size of snooker balls (for those who don't know snooker, the balls are slightly smaller and require more precision) and the pockets were rounded like a snooker tables. This means that any shot not hit dead solid perfect at the right speed would rattle out of the pocket. The table was very fast and it made for a very fun game. After a couple of hours of playing and chatting with my Indonesian friend I set back towards the resort.

There was a group of Australians staying in the bungalow next door and I talked to them on and off during the day. These gentlemen traveled together several times a year in search for good surf, and the father of one of them had been to Lombok every year for some time. That evening his son and his friends went down to the beach with me to kick around with some locals that lived on the beach. These guys kicked every evening, and enthusiastically let us play with them. We kicked until sunset and afterwards I hung out with the Aussies and continued to knock the ball around. I talked to one of them, named Doug, over a beer for a while and he told me all about his life in Sydney. Doug is a plumbing technician who works hard but plays harder. He told me that when he is not working he's surfing and hanging out with his friends. Given the opportunity to travel more than a few times a year, he gets together with friends and family and plans trips to other places to surf. What I found really interesting about Doug and his friends was their outlook on life. Doug told me how he doesn't take his life for granted at all and is grateful every day that he was lucky enough to be born where he was. Here was a guy who is really happy with his life and seems to enjoy every day. I've always thought the surfing sub-culture is cool, but this made me want to move to a beach and become part of it.

Doug left to join his friends for dinner and I opted to hang out on the beach. I sat in the sand for hours that evening, burying my sore feet, listening to the waves, and looking at the stars. At several points locals selling things approached me. I'd tell them that I wasn't interested in buying anything there but they were welcome to chat. Several times a person or two or at one time five sat down with me and talked about their island, country, politics, religion, or whatever. They all struck me as open-minded and easy going, and their was never an inflammatory topic that arose. I sat in the same spot for two hours and never got bored. After a while I cleaned up and went back to the strip where I watched an Arsenal game and drank a few pints.

The following morning I checked out and made my way to the airport. I had a seven hour layover in Jakarta that I wasn't exactly looking forward to, but had a good book to read and knew of a nice cheap spa where I could hang out and rest. I read George Orwell's "Down and Out in London and Paris" that day, which made me hungry with the main character working the hobo circuit in search for food. That was the third Orwell book I've read in the last year, and I'd highly recommend any of them (I also read Animal Farm and 1984). I finally boarded the plane at 9:30 pm and would arrive in freezing cold Seoul at 6:30am (There's a two-hour time difference.).

One thing I love about traveling alone is that it affords me time to reflect and think about the future. Indonesia was a very fitting end to an up and down 2007. On the mountain I thought about what direction I wanted to take when I got back and two things consistently popped into my head: soccer and writing. Going into 2008 I decided that these were the two things that give me the most satisfaction and two things that come naturally to me. I felt a renewal when I came back and have since set my energies to these two pursuits. Another key feeling I gathered on the trip was a re-newed faith in humanity. Through all my travels, I've found that people and cultures are generally good when you give them a chance. The people I encountered over this trip didn't discriminate against me because of my background and showed no hostility. I hope that in 2008 more of the world would act accordingly and try to appreciate our differences and live in harmony. Happy new year to everybody and peace towards mankind.

Last day on the mountain.

2008-01-22T03:55:00.000-08:00

After a night of bitter cold and tumultuous wind, the weather broke for the better in the morning. I had been bundled up freezing all night in my sleeping bag and was afraid to get out in the morning. When I walked outside, however, the air felt cool, but quite bearable. This first picture is the view from the top, which is distorted by the clouds. This is a cliff that overlooks the entire crater (If you look closely you can barely see the lake). I have no doubt that the view is quite astonishing on a clear day, but there was no luck this time around... being the monsoon season and all. I had a breakfast of fresh fruit and banana pancakes, complete with the aforementioned stout coffee.
After breakfast I put on a wet outfit, which was miserable. I had dry socks, but it didn't matter since my boots were soaked. There was no point in putting on dry clothes, as they would only be soaked within an hour. Even when it wasn't raining, we were walking through dense brush and trees that shed cool water as we walked through them. The weather had changed our plans that day. Since we couldn't see the summit and there was heavier rain coming, the guide said we should hike back down rather than stay the extra day. Having no dry anything and miserably wet feet, I didn't object very strongly.

The hike on the third day proved to be much easier than the first two. Funny how going down a mountain is so much easier than going up. The scenery was pleasant and the air felt refreshing and clean. Of course, it promptly started raining and the pancho came out once again, making it difficult again to get pictures. I was looking forward to going back to the hotel and drying up, but also was cherishing the nice hike. We would hike for 3 1/2 hours and eat lunch, then another 2 after that to the base, where a ride would be waiting to take us back to Sengigi.

Here is a picture of a very deep gorge just by the shelter where I had my last lunch on the mountain. We walked over many of these that day. The picture does not give a perspective of how deep this is. I was throwing rocks into this and couldn't hear them hit the bottom, and it was dead quiet in this spot. I could see how dangerous it could be to wander the mountain without a guide. There are plenty of ledges where one could step off and kill themselves, which has happened. After a lunch of fried noodles with eggs (pictured in "Food for thought") we set out on the final leg of our great hike. We walked non-stop until we reached the base, passing many more gorges and rivers, along with a field of oxen and villagers. We reached the base around 4:00, and took a bus back to Sengigi.

The drive was very scenic and took a good two hours. My favorite part of the drive was the presence of monkeys on the roadside. I had expected to see more on the mountain (I only saw one), so I was relieved to see these critters just hanging out on the side of the road. I must have seen fifty or so on the way back. Since I missed a day on the mountain the trekking company put me up in the same hotel. I arrived there a little before seven and put on my remaining dry clothes. Apart from having a meal on the strip and a couple of beers, I did very little that evening. My body was fairly sore and I was looking forward to a full day of relaxing on the beach. That night I slept very well in my comfortable, dry bungalow.

Trip to the top

2008-01-17T20:39:00.000-08:00

After the long morning walk the guide and I took a well-deserved break on the lake. It had stopped raining by this point, but a fine mist remained in the air. We had gotten a head start over the porters, who stayed behind to pack up the camp. I felt a little sheepish being coddled by the porters. Along with the guide they did all of the cooking, cleaning, pitching tents, and so forth. All I had to do was walk. That was a chore in itself and after the hard morning hike I was ready for a rest. The egg and cheese sandwich I had for breakfast had tied me over, which was good since the porters were a good hour behind us and had all the food.
Waiting for the porters allowed plenty of time to bathe in the hot springs, which were a short walk from the shelter on the lake. These springs come from the volcanic core and are quite hot and loaded with minerals. The locals say they have healing powers, and I could see why. The water spews out of the cliff and into a large pool where pipes run the water into three seperate smaller pools which were not as hot. The hot mineral water felt great after walking in the cold rain all morning, and the cool mist was perfect for keeping me from over-heating. The pools were in a valley with a river, and the mist and clouds gave the area a mystical quality.

After a long soak, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated we made our way back to the shelter just as the guides arrived. We had our usual delicious lunch and I drank two cups of black, stout, grainy coffee. It was crucial to gather strength at this point, as the rest of the afternoon would be the most difficult walk yet. I was able to get some shots of the lake from higher up, but the afternoon would prove to be as difficult for taking pictures as any other time. We would reach the top by early evening and camp near the summit. The plan was to wake up early the next morning and hike to the summit to watch the sunrise.

Unfortunately, nature had other plans. It began raining again shortly after lunch, and the camera went into the bag shortly after this last photo was taken. We walked over many deep gorges such as this one. It's difficult to gage the depth in this photo, but it was quite deep and very long. There's something really cool about crossing these bridges. As it got wetter that afternoon the incline became steeper and rockier. This would be the hardest work of the trek. We walked steeply upwards for three hours or so. Again and again I marveled at how the porters managed to make this trip with all of the baggage on their shoulders. It's a very dangerous profession and I gained a deep respect for what they do. As we got above 10,000 feet the temperature dropped considerably. The wind that had disappeared in the crater was back in full force. Despite being soaked, I was okay as long as I kept moving. For this we didn't take any more breaks and moved upward full steam.

By the time we reached the top I was completely worn out. My knees ached from propelling myself up the steep slope with the heavy backpack. When I reached the top, there was absolutely nothing to block the cold wind. My clothes were wet and I could do nothing but freeze until the porters arrived. I had one dry outfit and wasn't about to get that wet. Had I done that I'd have froze to death that night. The entire afternoon I was looking forward to getting underneath shelter next to a warm fire, as we had the day before. It was shocking to realize when we reached the top that there was no shelter whatsoever. I found out the next day that seven people had died that year of hypothermia at the top. When the porters finally arrived and set up camp I was shivering cold. The rain would not relent until the morning, and our planned sunrise was impossible because of the cold, wind, clouds, and rain. When my tent was finally pitched I put on my remaining dry clothes and bundled up under the sleeping bag. I wouldn't leave the tent the rest of the night. The wind and rain grew more intense that night and keeping warm was a struggle, even with the cocoon-like sleeping bag made for these kind of conditions. Despite the conditions, I managed to sleep that evening out of sheer exhaustion. It was a strange feeling being in that tent, freezing, and knowing that there was absolutely no way out. It's not as if I could say: "Okay, I give up. Let's go back to the hotel." It was Christmas night and I was stuck on top of the mountain, held hostage in my tent by the hostile conditions. Still, it was perhaps the best Christmas ever.

Food for thought.

2008-01-15T04:43:00.001-08:00

There were so many memorable things about the trek, but the thing that really stood out was the food. The locals have got this down absolutely. To the left is Suhn cooking what would be my first lunch. The porters carry a stockpile of fruits, vegetables, eggs, rice, noodles, spices, and cookware. Whenever we stopped to eat my guide would cook an immaculate feast while the porters brewed coffee, tea, and cooked rice. When it came to eating, I wasn't roughing it in the slightest. As a matter of fact, the best food I had over the course of my vacation I had on the mountain.

Every dish was different, but each one was loaded with fresh vegetables and there would be some fresh fruit to snack on as well. Hours of walking up steep slopes really rouse the appetite, and the food was as satisfying as can be. I was so pleased when we stopped the first time and the porter offered me coffee. This coffee was like none other I had. Coffee snobs might turn their noses up at this, but living in Korea has changed my standards when it comes to coffee. Every time we stopped I was served a piping hot cup of the stoutest coffee the world has seen. It was thick, bitter, and grainy, with the consistency and look of used motor oil--maybe blacker. It might sound gross, but wow it tasted great after hiking in the cold. I savored every cup, and drank them down to the thick residue at the bottom of the cup.
Breakfast each morning was also a treat. There were egg, tomato, and cheese sandwiches, fried eggs, and my personal favorite banana pancakes. For lunch and dinner I would enjoy vegetable fried rice, rice with veggies in a satay sauce, fried noodles, noodle soup with vegetables, and chicken curry among other things. Not only was the food delicious, but the guide took special care in the presentation. He tediously chopped each vegetable into perfectly uniform sizes and even went to lengths to cut the carrots into stars, as he did the pineapples. Look at this last picture. Imagine hiking for four hours in the rain and sitting down to this meal with a hot, stout cup of coffee. I'd never eaten as well as I did on this trek. It wasn't just our group either. Everyone else I saw were eating in the same fashion. When it comes to camping, the Indonesians are world class in the cooking department.

Now it starts to get a little rough.

2008-01-13T17:34:00.001-08:00

After sleeping through the night having dreams of a clear day of trekking, we ate breakfast and made our way up the mountain. This ascent would prove to be much steeper and challenging than the previous afternoon's. After breakfast it promptly started raining, which didn't really matter since my clothes were still wet anyway. We were getting higher up and the temperature was dropping. The most severe of the conditions was the intense wind, which blew the rain sideways where I was constantly pelted in the face. Yes I wore a pancho, but it served only to keep my bag relatively dry. My clothes, through mix of sweat from laboring steeply uphill with a twenty pound backpack and the constant barrage of rain, were already soaked at this point. We walked over a series of hills like this, with seemingly no end. Every time I'd think the next hill was the peak, there would be another one farther away and higher up, invisible until I reached the ridge. The wind continued to howl and we dared not stop and rest because we'd freeze if we quit moving.
When we finally reached the ridge, we descended down toward the crater lake. The wind ceased immediately as we descended into the crater, and there was a light mist. Clear days grant a spectacular vantage of the lake with the new volcanic cone, but it was barely visible on this day. Still I didn't mind as the rain made it more challenging and the mist gave the crater a mysterious air. The pictures don't do justice to what was truly breathtaking in person. The path down went down gradually for the most part, as we zig-zagged our way down this very steep cliff. The path was easy enough to navigate, but I took caution to watch my step.

There were times when we had to use ropes or roots to climb straight down. This was particularly treacherous as the rocks were wet and I had a cumbersome pancho. I took extra care to make sure I didn't snag anything on the rocks. Often throughout the course of this day I marveled at the way the porters make this trek every week carrying 50+ pounds of supplies. As if that isn't amazing enough, they do it wearing flip-flops. Both porters and the guide wore beach sandals this entire trip. I don't know how they do it. It struck me as funny the way Koreans get decked out in serious mountaineering gear to walk up glorified hills with clear and easy paths (think stairs) while the Indonesians casually lope up and down this mountain in t-shirts, shorts, and sandals.
Pictured on the left is the crater lake shrouded in mist and clouds. The air was much warmer in the crater and the mist made the air very favorable. It was a welcome change from the harsh freezing wind and charging rain on the other side of the rim. We had been walking for about three hours at this point and were ready for a rest. We descended another half an hour to the base of the lake and walked half way around the lake to the shelter area, where we would have a well-deserved lunch. I have to say that it was difficult to get many pictures since it was raining and I often stored the camera in the backpack to keep it dry. This would happen a lot in the next day and a half.
Here we have a picture of the new volcanic cone coming out of the lake. This cone last erupted in 2004. Unfortunately, or probably fortunately, it didn't erupt while I was there. The morning had been quite difficult and the break was needed. The second half of the day would be even more difficult, as we went to the peak. Before I describe the rest of the day, I should mention that this day was Christmas. I had completely forgotten about that until my guide said something. The second leg will be coming your way soon. Before that, I will digress in the next entry and discuss a topic that hasn't gotten its proper coverage and was of great significance. Stay tuned.

Day One of the Trek

2008-01-09T03:41:00.001-08:00

On Monday morning on December 24th, my guide walked into the resort lobby at precisely 6am. I was ready to go and got into the bus to embark on our journey through the volcano. The drive to the entrance point took two hours and I slept through most of it, missing out on the scenery but needing to gather energy. Fortuitously, there were no other trekkers registered this week and it would be only me, two porters, and a guide by the name of Suhn. The porters carried all of the equipment in large baskets on the ends of a bamboo pole. The first leg of the trek would involve walking through the dense tropical forest.

We spent the first three hours of the morning walking through the jungle where we were surrounded by exotic trees and lush vegetation. The path was quite narrow at times, but the walk was easy enough. I had wanted to take this trek to give myself the opportunity to clear my mind. I had remembered the euphoria I'd experienced in Thailand when I trekked down the coast and had completely cleared my head of everything except the coast. Living in a noisy and polluted city, I relish the opportunities to get away and experience quiet time with nature.

I should mention at this point that I was taking a chance with this trip in that December is monsoon season in this area. I was hoping the sky would open up for this occasion, but also relishing the challenge of climbing the mountain when it's the most difficult. The morning was relatively calm and the dense canopy of branches and leaves kept the light rain off my head. However, just before lunch it really started coming down and I got completely soaked before I managed to put my pancho on. When we got to the first shelter, the temperature had already begun to drop and the wind was picking up. I put on some dry clothes and had lunch. I will go into more detail on the meals in a later post--the food is worth its own entry.

Luckily it stopped raining after lunch, but this didn't last long. My second dry outfit got completely soaked, which would be a common theme the next couple of days. The path got significantly steeper on the second leg and we walked for about 4 hours until we came to the campsite. There were some other campers here who were doing the abbreviated two day/one night trek. I was pretty worn out by the time we set up camp and was eager to eat dinner. I spent the in-between time chatting with an Indonesian family that were there on holiday. I found it more interesting interacting with them and the other guides than the other tourists, who were a bit loud. The people on the mountain were just as friendly as the locals, even though they were selling nothing. I put on my last dry pair of pants and hung my wet clothes to dry in the shelter. The air was so moist there was little hope they would dry, but it wouldn't matter since they were bound to get wet again anyway. This picture is the view from in front of my tent. After the long day I went to bed early and tried to ignore the foreigners singing Christmas carols loudly. If it weren't for them, I'd have completely forgotten it was Christmas eve. I went to sleep knowing that the next day would be colder, steeper, and windier, but the guide didn't think it would rain.

Sengigi Beach and the Nice Locals

2008-01-07T04:18:00.001-08:00

I arrived at the island at 2:00 Sunday afternoon. The guide that I had booked for the trek picked me up at the airport and dropped me off at the Dharmarie Resort on Sengigi Beach. This place was prettier than expected and I was very pleased with the room. Pictured on the left is the bungalow I stayed in that evening. The guide told me he would be at the hotel to pick me up at 6am sharp the next morning. I didn't feel like doing much given this and took it fairly easy the first night.

In front of my bungalow was a beautifully manacured garden area with palm trees and soft grass. This area led directly to the beach, which was nearly empty. Sengigi is a beautiful tourist area without too many tourists. It proved to be a nice mix and the local people were very friendly and accommodating. After spending some time lazing on the beach, I took to the strip to stroll and find a restaurant and possibly a beer. It was reminiscent of Cambodia the way the locals feed off tourism and try to sell anything. I found the people here to be a bit aggressive, but not nearly as overwhelming as the Cambodians. Many of them, like many Thai people I chatted with in Phuket, were happy just to talk when I told them I wasn't interested in buying anything. For instance, I had a watch salesman who asked if he could sit down and join me when I was in a cafe having yellow curry and a beer. I told him that I wasn't buying a watch and he said that he just likes speaking English and chatting with foreigners. Turns out he had no hidden agenda and he talked freely about his life on the island and family. I told him about Korea and he was very impressed saying that many Indonesians try to make it to Korea because the money is very good for them. However, it's difficult to raise the money to pay for the travel and visas. One thing I didn't get a sense of with this gentleman, as well as with every other person I talked to, was a sense of anti-Americanism. They seem to really embrace certain aspects of our culture and simply don't like our insane war-mongering president (my words, not theirs). I heard many times over the week how these nice people hate war and want to live in peace with all religions and cultures. I said amen to that. I talked to Muslims, Christians and Hindus alike all week and they all seemed genuinely pleased that an American took an interest in their culture. On a side note, I wish I would have taken a picture of the very nice watch-salesman.
The rest of the evening I hung out on the strip for a little while (didn't have my camera with me) and had a couple of beers and watched a soccer game at a pub. I returned a little after dark and had a midnight swim with some of the locals. The ocean was very powerful and I never strayed out very far. I really enjoyed the sensation of the undertow pulling me out and the waves crashing me back into the shore. My underpants didn't appreciate this so much as they became filled with sand--OUCH! After a swim I was tired and ready to go to bed. I had an appointment early the next morning with my destiny--the volcano--and wanted to be well-rested.

First thoughts on Indonesia

2008-01-03T07:56:00.000-08:00

First things first. I'd like to wish everyone a happy and productive 2008. Last year was one of transition and change, but it ended very well. I had the week of Christmas off and took the opportunity to travel to Indonesia. I had been eyeing Mount Rinjani for a long time and decided to use my time off to trek this active volcano on the island of Lombok.

There were some concerns heading into Jakarta, where I had a layover. Indonesia seems to bear the label of a dangerous place. With all the concerns of Muslim extremism and anti-Americanism, not to mention the unfortunate and infamous Bali bombing, I had some reservations about traveling there. However, I refuse to let fear govern my actions and decided to go for it. I would be very cautious though.

I spent one night in Jakarta and got no pictures. I don't like the idea of walking around at night taking pictures as it can make one a target. Some research on the internet beforehand led me to the backpackers district of Jalan Jaksa. This was by far the filthiest, seediest place I'd ever been to. I was able to enjoy a little of their nightlife, and found the people to be very friendly and easy-going. I ended up in a dark club with very loud live music. The patrons, all local, drank beer and danced in lively fashion. It was nice to take refuge from all of the people on the street selling any kind of service imaginable (That's about all I need to say about that.). The desperation of people to make a buck mirrored many of the things I saw in Thailand and Cambodia. Indonesia continually struck me as a cross between the two. I didn't encounter the harassment I was constantly barraged with in Cambodia, but there was a little more than I experienced in Thailand.

The night in Jakarta was an inconvenience more than a planned visit. I couldn't help the layover so I did my best to at least get a mental snapshot of the city at night. I wouldn't recommend this place, but it wasn't altogether bad. I had planned for Lombok and was looking forward to my trek. This was Saturday night and I flew to Lombok the next morning. The plane was delayed two hours and I felt as if I couldn't get out of Jakarta soon enough.

About the trek: I had discovered this mountain last year while trying to figure out what to do with a week off. I ended up spending that week traveling around Korea, but the trek stayed in the back of my mind. Mount Rinjani is an active volcano situated in the middle of a tropical island. I would divvy my time trekking and lounging on the beach. I made a reservation with a guide for four days and three nights. Many sources I came across called this the best trek in Southeast Asia--it did not disappoint. This week I'll be posting my experiences on the island complete with pictures and everything. Keep an eye out for the adventures all week.

We are the Champions!

2007-12-11T04:36:00.001-08:00

Hi everbody!! I'm baaaaaaaaacccck! After a long layoff I've decided to get back into the blogging business since there's a lot going on. I last left off in Uleungdo, which was ummm, last summer. Oops, someone has been slacking. It all started with a computer issue that made blogging impossible for a while without going to a pc room and loading my pictures on a public computer. No thanks. Since the mishap, I'd re-signed for another year and I took a trip home for three weeks.

I had big ambitions of multiple blogs of Ulleundo last August until I ran into computer problems. It's too far behind to even remember what happened, so I'll just skip ahead to what's happening now. The biggest news recently is the fact that my team InterSuwon won the championship in a very well-organized and competitive league. Other than a brief slump at the end of October (Where was I at the time? Coincidence? I like to think not.) our squad has steamrolled the competition. We won our final game 10-1 and finished the season with 56 goals to only 13 against in 12 games. Since I've been in Korea I've drifted from team to team not finding the play or camaraderie as satisfying as years past. There had been a fundamental communication problem with my Korean team and my Uzbekistani team, which made it more difficult.

These days, the worries are behind me. With InterSuwon, I've encountered a great group of guys (all of them English speakers) from all over that can not only really play ball, but are also fun to hang out with. This phenomenon has chewed up my Sundays and kept me in Suwon all fall, but it's been well worth it. We practice together every week and play on a great pitch. The boss, Haji, as gotten involved as well. He comes out to our games and takes these great action shots. We're done until the spring, but will savor the feeling of being champions until then.

In other unrelated news, I've recently booked a trip to Lombok, Indonesia for Christmas. On this island I'll trek the active volcano Mt. Rinjani and spend some time relaxing on the beach. I know what everyone's thinking... it sucks to be me these days. Actually, it really doesn't! I want to take this opportunity to wish everyone a happy holiday season. I'll have plenty of interesting new blog material after I get back. It's great to be back!

Ulleung-do

2007-08-16T05:50:00.000-07:00

It's time to move on from Cambodia, as life in Korea has moved forward and I've gotten behind. So much time has passed that I have taken another vacation since, so I'll start there. I wanted to go to Japan, but the peak season prices were too steep for me to handle. Therefore I decided to travel around Korea, much like I did last summer. I wanted to go somewhere off the beaten path and I like islands, so I chose Ulleung-do. This beautiful island is located a little way off the east coast, and was a bit of a haul to get to. I took a four hour bus ride to Sokcho (see "Farewell, Dear Zizou" July 2006 for pics of this beach).
After spending one un-remarkable night in Sokcho, I took the earliest bus to Donghae, where I would take a ferry to the island. The bus took two hours and the ferry would take another three. I arrived at the harbor before two o'clock and checked into a yogwan (cheap hotel, kind of like a guest house). The serenity and beauty of the area made an immediate impression. Living in a place where I've become so accustomed to neon lights, traffic, and noise, it was nice to find this quiet place. The people struck me as much more laid back than the city folk I'm used to. Everything slowed down for me, and it was a welcome change.
After strolling around the area and eating lunch, I took the seaside walk. There is a walkway up the coast where one can take in the beautiful coast line. The sea was particularly turbulent this day, and the water was crashing against the rocks. I spent great amounts of time just watching the waves, mesmerized by the violent battle between the water and the rocks. At one point I was standing about 25 feet up watching the water crash into a small cove. I thought I was safe where I was, but one strong wave hit and completely doused me with sea water. Luckily, I found a plateau where a very strong and steady wind dried my clothes. There was something picturesque about standing on this high vista overlooking the sea with a powerful wind whipping through my flapping clothes and blowing hair. I didn't take a picture of it though.
Here I am on my way back. I took the invite from a couple of strangers to imbibe on a little soju with them. They were kind enough to take this picture. This would be a common thing during my stay. So many nice Koreans invited me to eat, drink, and chat with them. I had many people go out of their way to show me around. I had dinner with two different families in my stay. Most of these folks knew little to no English, so I had to get by solely on my Korean--my sparse Korean. It did make me realize how far I've come, yet made me also realize how much better I could do.

That evening I turned in early as I would wake up early the next morning to hike the island's tallest mountain, Seong-Inbong. The climb involved a steep uphill walk to the road, than a steeper uphill walk to the path. It was a physically taxing hike on a very muggy day. I took very little time to rest and plowed forward for three hours, knowing the payoff of sitting on a peak. The best part of climbing a mountain for me is sitting on a quiet peak, enjoying the view. It's a reward that provides a sense of accomplishment. This peak, however, pretty much sucked. It was surrounded by trees that I couldn't see over. These pictures are the best I could do while standing at the highest point holding the camera over my head.
Since the peak was disappointing, I didn't lolligag at the top. Instead, I moved on to my second favorite part of the climb--bounding down the mountain. Three hours up, forty-five minutes down... that's all I need to say. I was overheated and drained after that, so I went to the hotel and relaxed for a bit. Later that evening, there would be a concert on the harbor, featuring local talent of all kinds. There were dancing kids, break-dancers, traditional folk singers, drums, and cheesy K-pop. I spent the latter part of the concert in my room, where my wonderful view allowed me the opportunity to have a prime seat for the fireworks show. I turned in early after a long day of hiking and looked to do more of the same the next day.

The Mother of them All

2007-07-23T09:25:00.001-07:00

The final stop on this day (which has lasted forever) was Angkor Wat. This is the flagship amongst a fleet of temples--every one unlike anything I'd seen. The sheer size of this place is staggering. It is one of the most famous ancient wonders of the world, and for very good reason. I very easily could've spent an entire day here, but as said before I had too much to see and too little time. Ironic, that I went back to the guest house after this, but one can only take so much of the heat. This picture I took is a familiar image in Cambodia, as it's printed on beer bottles, postcards, advertisements, in restaurants, in bars, and everywhere you might go.

This is one of two pictures I was in out of 400 plus. The other was taken in this same spot. I swapped cameras with a Korean tourist (funny how I gravitate toward Koreans in other countries) and we took each other's pictures. I was reticent to ask locals to take my picture, and if anyone had read the previous entries they'd know why. It's unfortunate again how I felt it necessary to avoid eye contact and conversation with the locals. I would've loved to have met some Khmers on a personal level and exchanged cultural information, but they're too desperate for money to think about that.

Like I said in another post, it's cool the way that tourists can climb and roam around these ancient historic artifacts. It's rather dangerous also. I walked clear around the temple on this ledge forty or fifty feet up, and never came across any kinds of barriers. The ledge was quite thick, and not so dangerous, but the stairs up were a different matter. I wanted to include a picture, but I had to be picky in choosing six out of seventy pictures. The staircase I climbed had a rope attached to the top that was used for safety. I opted to climb up and down the steep, narrow, and tall steps on my own, which was quite precarious. The Korean tourists were looking at me like I was crazy... which I probably was.
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I spent an ample amount of time sitting on this ledge, gazing into the jungle. I found a quiet, shady corner on the far end where I could sit and contemplate my time in Cambodia. I actually picked up a mild breeze at this spot, and would've had a picnic here had I been prepared. As for the structure in front of the jungle, it is an intricate maze of halls each laden with ornate carvings and statues. There's one wall in particular that is fifteen feet high and somewhere around 50 meters long that is engraved from top to bottom of an ancient battle scene involving chariots, swords, shields, and warriors. I had intended on showing pictures of it, but would've had to post another entry. Let's face it, I'm running out of steam on this Cambodia trip and need to get back to Korea.
I intend to do one final entry and am working on posting pictures online for all to enjoy. However, it won't happen this week as I have another vacation starting tomorrow. Nothing like the last Friday before a vacation! This vacation won't be too exotic, but I will see parts of Korea that I haven't seen before. It'll be reminiscent of the vacation I took last summer, where I went to Jeonju, Busan, Geojedo, Jinju, Haeinsa, Daegu, and then home. I have a pretty good idea of where I want to go, but it could change. Sometimes it's fun to go to a bus station and pick the coolest destination in the guidebook. We'll see what happens... I'm certainly excited.

Here's one last shot from the front ledge looking out. I don't really know why I chose this shot, as there are much better pictures. I don't always make the best decisions, though. The decision to visit Cambodia is not one that I'll ever regret, however. I will post some final thoughts and pictures soon and then tell all about my next trip.

Ta Prohm

2007-07-09T06:26:00.001-07:00

It's raining outside... blah. I can't complain too much, as there have been some nice days intermittently between the gloomy ones. However, this is the raining season in full effect, and it's not a lot of fun. It wasn't raining on this day. After the magnificent Bayon I ventured to the ruins of Ta Prohm. This temple is famous for the trees that have grown around the ruins, and it wasn't a letdown. Something that had impressed me in my previous ventures had been the sheer size of the trees. By my estimation, some of these trees are 100 feet tall if they're a meter. Seeing the massive trees that have grown around the temple made me appreciate the age of the ruins.
While I'm in the process of finishing this vacation, I'm simultaneously planning my next one. In two weeks the hogwan is closed for a week. I wanted to go to Japan, but it's peak season and the fares are ridiculously expensive right now. So like my vacation last summer, I've opted to travel around Korea. Also, like last year, I've opted to start my travels in Jeonju. Jeonju is famous for being the birthplace of bibimbap, which is something I eat all of the time. It's a dish consisting of rice, various vegetables, chili paste, and topped with a sunny side up egg. I was disappointed that I went to Jeonju last summer and didn't eat bibimbap, so I will rectify this mistake in two weeks. From Jeonju, I'll go wherever the guidebooks and buses, trains, or ferries take me... should be interesting.

I do have some rough ideas involving islands and mountains, but I don't want to give anything away. For now, the plan is to finish Cambodia, then get back to normal life in Korea. There hasn't been too much activity to report lately. Since I've come back from Cambodia it's been a period of starting over. There have been many changes in my life besides the discovery of Rome, and I'm now in the process of beginning a new chapter in my life... which is great! The saddest news is that my good friend Sacha left Korea. It's happy in that he left to marry his long time girlfriend and friend to me in her own right Shannon.
He is now in the United States and the couple will move to Australia (where Sacha is from) in October. I'm very happy for both of them and looking forward to visiting in Australia. Other than that, I also broke ties with my Uzbekistan soccer team. They just failed to pass the ball too often, and it was more frustrating to play than fun. So I joined with the local Suwon international team, who had been trying to recruit me for a while. I've not been disappointed in the least. They're a superior team and everyone speaks English as their first language. They're also a fun bunch of guys whom I'll be spending a weekend with in August for an out of town friendly.
By the way, that last picture is famous for being in the movie Tomb Raider, which was a deep and interesting epic based on the best-selling historical saga. Okay, it's a movie based on a video game, but the Cambodians will take what they can get. Look at the size of the roots! These trees were truly magnificent. I'm glad this isn't in America, because it would have been turned into a lumberyard a long time ago. Anyway, back to life in Korea. My good friend Pam had been gone for seven weeks and just came back to Seoul. I had the pleasure of hanging out with her and dining on Indian food Tuesday.
Aside from Pam, there's another key addition to Korea. My old friend Brett has decided to take the plunge and move from Missouri to Korea. He'll arrive today, I believe. Some old ties have been cut, some old ones have been re-united, and life in Korea carries on. As it rains continuously, I'm left to look forward to the next month where I'll have a vacation, a weekend with my new teammates, and old friends to share new experiences with. In the meantime, I'll continue to chip away at my Cambodia pictures. I'm thinking there will be two or three more entries, and then back to Korea. I hope everyone takes the time to enjoy the pictures throughout the unrelated text. This temple was truly fabulous, but there's not much of a story outside of walking around and taking pictures. Just to give an idea, however, the base of this tree (you can't tell from the picture) is easily 30 feet wide. Trees like this were everywhere around this temple. It's a real honor to have been able to see these temples in my lifetime, and I hope to see much more in the future.

The Bayon and my Pathos.

2007-07-09T06:18:00.001-07:00

On day 4... is it really only day 4? I've been trying to get through Cambodia, but the amount of pictures has been overwhelming. And, I've also been a bit lazy too. Actualally, I have something I have to admit as to why I haven't been writing as much as I should have. I've been involved with something that has taken over my life. I've been hooked and have shut everything else out of my life lately... and I'm not proud of it. Sometimes we let these things consume our thoughts, and it's hard to move on. In the meantime... here are the glorious temples of Angkor Thom. Pictured to the left is the gateway to the city, and it's pretty darned impressive.

The first stop through the gate of Angkor Thom was the temple Bayon. Oh...my...dear...Lord!! This temple was amazing beyond belief! I probably took seventy pictures of this temple. The pictures can not possibly do it justice, but you might get the idea. Bayon is famous for the mysterious faces that are carved into the massive temple. Trying to count the faces in the few pictures I'm posting is like trying to count the ... sorry, no simile. It is very cool, however. Anyway, back to the beast that's taken over my thoughts and free time lately. I think I may need help.

This was a sweltering day, and there isn't much to say other than the fact that I meandered around this tremendous temple in the jungle. Having seen the extreme poverty and desperation of Phnom Penh, it was amazing to see the absolutely incredible achievements of this culture's past. Take this hand-engraved picture, for instance. Images like this were on every post in every room in this massive, massive temple. I've never seen the pyramids (but, you all know I will some time), but this struck me as the most incredible achievement in architecture and artistry that I've ever seen. The scope and scale of this project is mind-boggling.
Try to count the faces in the picture on the left, just for fun. I could have easily spent the entire day here, but there was just too many other places to see. This may have been my favorite, but it's hard to discount the granddaddy of them all, being Angkor Wat of course. I really like that I got the sky in the background. I rarely get to see a blue sky in Korea, and this was a real treat to see this sky for a week. That being said, it was ridiculously hot. Having spent my younger years in Texas and having been through Missouri summers (it's gotten as hot in Missouri as any other place I've been), it was no big deal. I actually quite enjoyed the heat with the exception of the market in Phnom Penh. Anyway, back to the beast... a friend of mine introduced me to this thing a couple of weeks back and I've been able to do nothing but abuse it and think about it ever since. It's practically taken over my life, but it won't last forever.

The addiction I speak of is the series "Rome". A friend by the name of Andrew lent me season 1 a couple of weeks back and I haven't been able to quit watching it. I've been going back over it and watching the extra features, and I'm anxiously awaiting the release of season 2 (I've seen the first half of it via a Seoul street bootleg copy.), which I'll certainly buy. Not since the first two seasons of The Sopranos have I been so hooked by a show. This one might even top that. I've been so intrigued by it that I'm now going back and re-reading Julius Caesar and Anthony and Cleopatra. The historical aspect of the show is fascinating and accurate, while it also happens to be entertaining with great characters. It might take about 2 episodes to get into it, but once you do, you're hooked. I wouldn't watch it with the children, however. I'll leave this entry with one last picture. It was difficult to choose which ones to use, but I'll post them all online sometime soon and be sure to give the url to whomever wants to see them. I've got several drafts going now, so expect alot of action on the blog this week... and then I'll finally get back to life in Korea. Next up: Ta Prohm.

Ode to a Lost Friend.

2007-06-27T21:10:00.001-07:00

Back to the temples... let's see. Where am I? Oh yeah, I'm in Korea! It seems as if I'll never make it out of Cambodia, but there has been a lot going on here. These pictures are much better than anything I've taken since, so enjoy them as I meander through the painful experience that has occupied my mind and kept me off the blog. I've never had any kind of drama in my entries, but have been so hurt and down from a recent event that I want to get it off my chest and share it with the world. Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a rough ride...

Maybe a week or so after I returned from my vacation, I was out in my veranda area talking to my boss (which is customary) when my neighbor Zach arrived with some strange news. Zach announced that he had seen a crab in the street, and Haji and I were astonished! We went out to the street to see for ourselves, and sure enough there was a little crab that had somehow made it onto the street outside. We decided to rescue him from the street and I made it my mission to give him a home. He was really excited and happy to experience love after his lonely and toilsome journey.

Haji brought outside an empty aquarium, and we set to task to make the new guy a home. I named him Herman... seriously, what else would you name a crab? We poured the standard white and blue pebbles in the aquarium, and added a stick for Hermie's enjoyment. The aquarium was a virtually playground for Herman, and I've not seen a crab so happy. The next morning I added an eggshell thinking the protein in the egg white would be good for my little crab friend. Hermie made this his home. He loved spending his days hiding underneath the eggshell.

Herman was a very bright and resourceful crab, as he used the shell for protection from predators as well as his own personal enjoyment. How he loved basking in the gentle warmth of his eggshell abode! Herman would play a game where he would see if he could spend the entire day in his home and would run away playfully when I'd move the shell and poke him with a stick. One night, as I was out on the veranda talking to Haji, I witnessed one of the weirdest things. Herman's aquarium was located on a staircase directly in my view and Haji had his back to it. As I was listening to Haji speak, a noticed out of the corner of my eye a long, slender animal creeping up the stairs.
I kid you not that this animal was no other kind but a weasel! With it's tail it was a good two feet long. I interrupted Haji's story with the only thing one can say when they see a weasel on the porch: "HOLY S**T!!". It startled the animal almost as much as Haji and it scurried away before Haji could turn around. After this incident and knowing there is an abundance of alley cats in the neighborhood (Cats are like rats here... they're basically wild animals.) I decided to bring Hermie into the hallway. It was a week later that I played my eggshell game with my little friend and he didn't move. Hermie was dead. How was I supposed to know that I needed to feed him? Whyyyyyyyyy!?!?!?!!? Needless to say, I was shattered. My life as I knew it had changed forever and there was no way of undoing the damage. This is a tough thing to deal with, as anyone who has ever grieved before knows.

So the last few weeks have been a very painful period for me. There's been the initial grief, which was overwhelming. Then came denial. I couldn't admit to myself that it was over and Hermie was really gone. After that came anger, where I lashed out at the world for causing me so much pain. Now there's nothing left but an empty aquarium and a wealth of fond memories. I'll miss Herman, but have moved on emotionally since the tragedy. Oh, by the way, this temple was really neat, but I forgot the name of it. The upcoming temples are entirely unforgettable, however. Prepare for the temples of Angkor Thom, followed by the mother of them all: Angkor Wat.

Christopher Perlow and the Temples of Angkor

2007-06-12T21:11:00.001-07:00

I arrived in Siem Reap Friday afternoon after a six hour bus ride which was reasonably comfortable. Siem Reap is the gateway city to the fabled temples of Angkor, and is booming economically in comparison to the capital. I spent Friday evening cruising around on a tuk tuk soaking in the scenery. The photos are unspectacular at best, so I'm not going to bore my five readers with them. I took it easy Friday night and was tired after an early morning and a long bus ride. I made an arrangement that evening for a driver to pick me up at 6am to take me out to one of the most distant and ruinous temples.

The accompanying photos are of Beng Melea. If I remember my history properly, this temple was built by Mexican conquerers around 1449. Later around 1967 it was destroyed by a renegade group of Canadian mounties and has been overrun by jungle ever since. Seriously this temple was cool because it had a primitive, Indiana Jones feel too it. At least that's what the Lonely Planet told me. The cool thing about these temples is that everything is accessible. One can climb freely on these ruins and I climbed to the top of these.

I climbed to the top of this particular ruin and had to swing on a vine to get to the next one. It was there where I crawled down a hole and discovered a golden idol surrounded by booby traps...mmm... boobies. Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah, I avoided the poisoned darts and ran down a shaft where I tumbled down a hill. It was there where some creepy Frenchman took away my idol with the help of his aboriginal cronies with blowguns. Luckily, I held up a dollar bill and was instantly swarmed by children and the aboriginal mercenaries let me go back to the temple to look around some more. They did make me delete all of my pictures of them first, which was a bummer.
I didn't see anyone else except for a group of Korean tourists, who are known around Asia as the most annoying. They travel in groups, know zero English, and bring their own food. Not to mention that they keep with their local tradition of standing in doorways when you want to get through. On a side note, I once saw three Koreans at Suwon Station having a conversation at the top of an escalator right where people get off. They didn't move, even though there was about 30 square yards of space behind them, and people were either falling over or pushing through. I just yelled: "Get the hell out of the way you jackasses!". Of course they didn't understand a word.
Where was I? Oh yeah... the temple. This place was really quiet after I climbed away from the tourist group. It was fun to wander around on the rocks and soak up the jungle atmosphere. This would be the first stop on a very scenic three day tour. If you are wandering why this blog has been so meandering, it's because there really isn't much to talk about other than the creepy Frenchman, the aboriginals, and the annoying Korean tourists. There aren't many stories to tell about Siem Reap, but there are a ton of pictures. By now I had learned to avoid eye contact with any locals to avoid being harassed (unfortunate, but true).

So expect many pictures in the upcoming blogs, but not so many words. That's the way this tour was, scenic and not very social. I took over 300 pictures without hardly saying a word to anyone. The temples are spectacular, however. This one pales in comparison to what I would see in the next couple of days.

2007-05-30T20:47:00.000-07:00

Before I get to Siem Reap, I have one more digression to get through--traffic. The photo to the left was taken outside of my guest house in Phnom Penh. Here the scooters ran up and down the street in every direction all day. Crossing this street was no easy feat--and this was a narrow street. When I was in Phuket, I thought there was a ridiculous amount of scooters. That was nothing compared to Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. Not only are there a million scooters on the road, but there are no apparent traffic laws. Not to mention there are cars, trucks, bicycles, and pedestrians in the mix.

To the left we see a family of (count 'em) five on a scooter. This was not at all uncommon to see. I wondered exactly where all of these people were going? These scooters just move along at a slow speed and somehow avoid hitting each other or getting run over. I did what I could to capture pictures from the back of my tuk tuk, but it took too much concentration and I preferred to sit back and enjoy the scenery. It was fun to relax in my seat and watch this total clusterf**k (I've never been one to use profanity in my blog, but this is the only way the traffic can be aptly described.) unwind and intertwine.

Imagine if you had this scenario in a U.S. city. People would be losing their minds and raging all over the place. Here everyone is totally accustomed to this and they just drive slowly and stay out of each others ways. There are no stop lights and the side of the road you should drive on is merely a suggestion. I had a driver go about a half a mile down a busy street driving down the left side of the road into traffic. This was a sight to behold. Oddly, there is an order in this total disorder. Everyone works together and it just works out somehow. They work together by keeping their eyes open and avoiding each other.

Here's another picture of scooters everywhere. I think the traffic is indicative of their society in that there are no regulations or laws, but somehow through the chaos they find an order that works for them. It's every man for himself, but nobody runs over another person in the process. It's a strange web of cooperation through doing one's own thing while avoiding others doing theirs. It may not be the most orderly society, but it sure is fascinating. I could have ridden around for days and just watched the traffic, but there was too much more to see.

Here we see a small family on a scooter and a little youngster looking back towards me. Luckily the kid didn't look directly at me because I would've probably been harassed for money. That week I didn't see a single wreck, but I did have about fifty close calls in the tuk tuk. It's crazy how close the traffic comes to one another. Anyway, on the topic of more to see... I've been going through my Angkor Wat pictures and will begin my journey through Siem Reap in the next entry. There are so many pictures and I'll have to make some difficult choices. However, expect to see some spectacular temples in the upcoming week.

Lost in the Market

2007-05-24T01:45:00.001-07:00

After going through my pictures from my trip it was striking how few pictures I got of actual Cambodian people. There's a good reason for this, which I'll soon explain. First, about these children... I took this picture at the killing fields of these friendly youngsters. Then I had to pay them. These same children later swarmed me in the parking lot outside after multiplying in numbers. This is really common, as there are children everywhere looking to make a buck to take home to their dirt poor families. I'll get further into this in a moment, but first I want to share an anecdote of what happened in the market after lunch in Phnom Penh.

I went to the central market area to look around and see what kind of bargains I could find. Mainly, I was looking for some light clothes since I packed very lightly. I should preface this by saying that it was extremely hot and humid this day, as every day was during my visit. The market was covered and everything was close together. In other words, it was absolutely sweltering. While I was at one particular stand looking at various shirts presented by the vendor, an industrious young boy stood next to me and vigorously waved his fan toward me. Since the killing fields I had grown weary of the children begging me for money, so my instinct was to ignore him until he went away. However, the fanning was greatly appreciated so I figured I'd employ his services. He also guided me through the market and showed me a place where I could find a 5 dollar Rolex. As I followed him, he'd often peer over his shoulder and flash a cute grin of satisfaction and excitement to be employed. While I looked at watches, he continued to fan me and I really wanted to take his picture when I was done. Then it happened...

Another kid caught sight of me tipping the boy and ran up to me and started fanning. Then another one came up, then another. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by children with their hands out, begging me for money. I couldn't convey to them that this boy had performed a service and was rewarded for it. These children literally chased me around the market, and I got lost in the labyrinth. I had to walk out of the market and down the street until they finally stopped following me. In this process I realized that I came out on a completely different side than I walked into and couldn't find my driver. I had to go back into the market and figure out where I came in while avoiding the children. Let me tell you, after the lunch I had this is not what I wanted to be doing. I wandered for a good half hour through the sauna-like market until I finally found my driver. I went straight back to the guest house from there and went straight to my room and had a rest. I was exhausted and overwhelmed by the afternoon, and needed to re-group before the royal palace (last entry).

This incident was indicative of a very unfortunate aspect of the Cambodian tourist industry. Everyone wants a piece of the money, and people are desperate. The rest of the week I never felt comfortable chatting with the locals because they were always trying to sell me something. They're also very aggressive about it. Every time I would arrive at a temple in Siem Reap, for example, there would be rows of vendors yelling: "Sir, cold beverage?", or "Sir, need scarf for your girlfriend?", or something in regards to what they were selling. The most unfortunate aspect of this is that they put the children to work. I wanted to buy things from children, but wouldn't because I would be swarmed by 15 other kids and they wouldn't leave me alone. I realized that I wasn't helping these people by paying children for services, but rather encouraging parents to put their kids to work. Over the course of the week, I must have bumped my head fifty times from keeping my head down to avoid eye contact. Very unfortunate, indeed.

Because of that I didn't take pictures of people. It's considered rude to take pictures of people in this culture without asking permission, but if I asked permission they'd want money and I'd just draw attention to myself and get swarmed. I took a few shots from the back of the tuk tuk, but it's difficult to get a good picture in a moving vehicle which is covered. So, what did I take over 400 pictures of?, you might ask. Mostly temples, is the answer. There will be many pictures to come of Siem Reap and the incredible temples of Angkor. Also, there will be some pictures of traffic, which is an entry in itself.

After lunch

2007-05-15T07:41:00.000-07:00

Later that day, I would take a visit to the Royal Palace near the riverfront in central Phnom Penh. While I'm jumping directly to this, I'm skipping what happened in a trip to the market right after lunch. This portion of the day merits it's own entry, and I want to save that for now since it deals with a bigger issue that would constantly rear it's head that week. After the market, I took a rest at the guest house for a couple of hours and went to the royal palace by foot at 5:00 that evening. I've discovered that I appreciate fine architecture and enjoy looking at different buildings, and this series of buildings didn't let me down.

The thing that immediately hit me about the palace was the grandiosity in the middle of extreme poverty. While I had started my day seeing filthy, third-world living conditions and desperate people, this place was a sanctuary. Compared with the pictures from the last blog, the obvious disparity in cleanliness, order, and prosperity is striking. The plants and greenery are meticulously manicured, and the buildings are impeccably cared for. There were few people here, and it was quiet. It was nice to get away from the complete disorder I had seen all day.

To the left is a miniature model of the mother of all temples: Angkor Wat. Imagine this architecture on a vast grand scale, where one could easily spend a day without scratching the surface. This is just a teaser of what I would witness Sunday. I won't talk about it yet, but thought this model would give food for thought. The pagoda in the background is pretty impressive in it's own right. I've been to the biggest and best palaces in Korea and none of them come close to the one's I saw this week, nor do they come close to the one's in Bangkok, for that matter. Honestly, compared to Thailand and Cambodia, the temples and palaces in Korea are quite underwhelming.
There are pretty cool pagodas around Korea--I saw many in Gyeongju--but none of them carry the grace and artistry of the pagodas in this region. Having said that, that's about all I could possibly say about pagodas other than: "Look at the picture... pretty neat, huh!". I would go back to the guest house after that and have dinner. After an early start and plenty of activity in stifling heat, I turned in pretty early that evening. I had to get on a bus to Siem Reap at 7am the following morning, and had little desire to go out on the town given the heavy nature of my day in Phnom Penh. I spent the evening chatting with some local expats at the guest house bar, but declined to hit the town that evening. The next morning, I checked out early and embarked on a 5 and 1/2 hour bus ride to Siem Reap.

Sunny Cambodia

2007-05-09T08:40:00.000-07:00

Wrapping my head around my experience in Cambodia and sorting through the 400 some-odd pictures I took is a somewhat daunting task, but I'll do the best I can. "Why Cambodia?" is a question I often heard before I left, and I wasn't exactly sure myself. I guess I was looking to see a different culture and gain a broader viewpoint of the world around me. As a certain idiot-buffoon (I could fill a book with descriptives, but I'll stop there) said: "Mission Accomplished." I arrived late on a Wednesday evening and did little except check into my guest house and chat a bit with the owner--a nice Irish expat named Rory. We stayed up a bit, drank Irish whiskey, and talked about travel and Cambodia. This was in Phnom Penh, the capital. My plan was to hang out in Phnom Penh Thursday, and take a bus to Siem Reap Friday morning. I would start my tour of the capital at 8 am the next morning, which was the latest start I would have all week.

After breakfast at the guest house, I employed the services of a tuk tuk driver. A tuk tuk is a covered wagon pulled by a motor scooter. I would spend a lot of time on these in my time in this country. These drivers will cart you all over town wherever you want to go and wait for you while you look around--all for about 12-15 bucks a day. It's a great way to see the city in an insulated environment. While I am an avid walker, Cambodia is definitely not a place you'd want to walk around in. In the confines of South Korea, I can walk freely down any street in any city and have never once felt unsafe. I wouldn't say the same here.

See what I mean? This is not exactly a pedestrian's paradise. This country is POOR. It was striking to me when I rode a taxi from the airport to the guesthouse how ghetto the capital looked. I thought it might have just been that stretch of road, but it certainly wasn't. Riding in the tuk tuk from one tourist attraction to the next, I witnessed poverty like I'd never seen. The majority of these people live in shacks, with no running water or electricity. Public utilities and sanitation are nearly non-existent here. Building codes?? Yeah, right. Families are happy to have a roof over there heads where they can take respite from the blazing hot sun.

Since the ride had been so inspiring so far, my driver wanted to start at the killing fields. Briefly, the Khmer Rouge regime, under the leadership of Pol Pot, came into power in the late 70's and worked to transform the populace into a peasant slave class. Within days of their rise to power, they had sent men, women, children, and elderly to the fields to work grueling 14 hour days. Any form of dissent warranted execution. In fact, they executed innocent people just to keep the populace in fear. The skulls in this picture fill the entire building pictured at the beginning of this entry. On this day, the killing fields were a quiet and pleasant place with trees and flowers masking the horrors of the past. To their credit, the people of Cambodia are not in denial about this cruel and disgusting part of their recent history. They've used it as a tool to bring tourism and help their impoverished economy, and it feeds their national identity. After all that horror, they're still here. It would be impossible for me to visit this city and not admire the peoples' tenacity.
After the killing fields, I went to the genocide museum, but there's a stop in-between that I want to mention first. My driver was taking me on a circuit that appealed to tourists, so I figured he knew the places better than I did. My ears were tweaked from the flight, so I was a little hard of hearing as to the next destination--not to mention his thick and hard to understand accent. We ended up at a firing range on a farm where for 15 dollars you can have the privilege to fire an AK-47 at a target. I refused to do it, and bought a beer to be polite. After seeing the carnage of the killing fields, the last thing I wanted to do was fire a weapon designed to kill other humans. By the way, the vast majority of the victims were bludgeoned to death because they couldn't afford to waste money on bullets. I wasn't allowed to take pictures at this place, but I did witness an American tourist posing with his freshly fired AK for his complimentary picture. This left me with a really uneasy and disturbed feeling. I felt quite sick at that moment, actually.
The genocide museum was no less gloomy than the killing fields. This was a high school that was renovated into a prison where the Khmer Rouge would detain and torture peasants and soldiers alike. They took tedious records of every prisoner and kept their photos, much like the Nazis did. With the above picture, one can use their imagination how these devices were employed in the torture of helpless victims of one of the cruelest regimes ever. Sadly, some of these techniques are still employed by so-called civilized societies. This is a picture of a cell in which a prisoner was kept. Trust me, this was tiny. Prisoners would be kept in these cells for months on end and would be fed porridge (a very nice way of putting it) out of rusty bins. This was a holding facility for the poor souls that were killed at the first stop of the tour.

After all this immediate poverty and gloom, I decided to take a break. I stopped on the riverfront at a famous pizza joint and had some of the most delicious pizza I've ever had. My heart and mind were heavy at this point, but I also realized that I was on vacation and wanted to enjoy myself. I dined at "Happy Herb's Pizza". The name is a play on words... the owner is a jovial guy named Herb. Nobody told me that and I never met him, but I'm pretty sure that's why the place is named that. The pizza was great and later that afternoon I ... I ... well, I don't really remember what happened. I remember the Heineken cost 80 cents. This pizza must have had elements of Chinese food, because I was hungry half an hour later.

A water shed event.

2007-04-23T07:33:00.000-07:00

Just one more day of work until I leave for Cambodia, so I'll offer this little story to tie everyone over until I get back. Things are going pretty slow when this is all I have to offer, but I thought it was amusing. Little things happen all of the time that would never happen back home. Nearly everyday I see something that I would never see back home, and this story is one of those odd things that could only happen in Korea.

To give this story a little background, here is a picture of the restaurant that I frequent with my friends from work. This is a kalbi restaurant that I've been to probably 50 times since I moved into the neighborhood. For those not in the know, kalbi is barbecued rib meat. There's a grill in the middle of each table and a slew of side dishes, not to mention two different soups. We grill meat, wrap it in lettuce and add various vegetables and red pepper paste. The guys at work usually get together here once a week and have dinner together. It's really a nice tradition. Note: the "Kalbi 101" entry from January 2006 was shot in this restaurant and goes into further detail on the meal.
For our next exhibit of a neighborhood regular hangout, I present my friend Hoki's bar, "Tok's!". I've spent many an evening here with friends, and plenty with Hoki. Last summer I watched many world cup games here, often staying all night. Hoki's mom would cook me food--they've always been great to me. Sadly enough, the bar is closing in one month as Hoki's mom is retiring and Hoki is changing professions. It should save me some headaches during the week, however. I'm hoping to have a last hurrah before they close and do a piece on it, but I can't control the future.

Anyway, after that round about it's time to get to the story. About a month back, we were in the Kalbi restaurant (damned if I know the name of it) and we were having our usual meal. This evening it was only our new employee Mike, Haji, and myself, but we received the usual great treatment. They know us here and go out of their ways to service us. It had been three weeks since we had eaten there, as we tried some other places. The nice lady who serves us brought a bottle of water that she had kept in the refrigerator and gave it to us. Haji understands Korean, and he informed us that Sacha left it there the last time we were in... they held on to it for nearly a month. We said that we'd give it to him when we saw him and thanked him.

After dinner, we went to Tok's and had a little soju. When I got home that evening, I had realized that I left the bottle of water at the bar. I was a little disappointed because I knew I'd get a kick out of giving it to Sacha and telling him how the restaurant had kept it for three weeks and were beaming when they returned it to the people who left it. Oh well, it was just a bottle of water. Well, two days later Hoki calls me and says that I left my water in the bar and he kept it for me. I picked it up a week later.

Here we have the grateful owner of the bottle, happy to have his prized bottle back in his loving arms after a painful month apart. The funny thing is that Sacha didn't even buy this water. It was merely a used bottle that he filled up with filtered water from the office, as he does every night. Why anyone would think to hang on to this bottle for three weeks is beyond me, but it is indicative of the kind of service a loyal customer receives in this strange, yet hospitable country. On a different note, I'd like to wish everyone a good week. As I said, I'll be in Cambodia next week and certainly won't have a blog next Monday. I'll tell all about it when I get back, however.

Spring has sprung.

2007-04-15T04:08:00.000-07:00

It's finally springtime after a dull, but reasonably mild winter. Talk of the spring in these parts is always followed by talk about the cherry blossoms. "Oh, you have to see the cherry blossoms". "Spring is so great because the cherry blossoms are in bloom." "Cherry blossom blah, blah, blah". Forgive my synicism, but I don't see what the big deal is. They're white and pink flowers on trees. That being said, I did go to a cherry blossom festival in Yeoido. Yeoido is an island in Seoul on the Han River. The 63 building (the tallest building in Korea) is located on this island. I made the trip with my friends Caine, Gina, Barb, Marie, and Shannon. On a quick side note, I had attended a professional baseball game with this group the previous evening and caught my first ever fly ball. Truthfully, I didn't catch it. I bobbled it, batted it, and dove over three rows before I snatched it from a Korean. I then stood up and showed the ball to the crowd, who cheered my feat. This was easily the coolest thing that happened this particular weekend.

Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera at the game... but I did take a picture of this obnoxiously crowded subway station at Yeoido. At this point it dawned on me that the idea of seeing cherry blossoms on this island was a popular one. It was stiflingly packed with people, even by Korean standards.
Here is a picture of the crew after exiting the station. We were ready for a day of adventure looking at overrated flowers in an incredibly crowded forum. Just my type of thing.

Next we get to the meat of this entry. By meat, I mean foul-smelling boiled silk-worm larvae which is called bondaegee. This stuff was everywhere on this day, and the air reeked of it. This might be the strangest food in Korea, and that's really saying something. Kids eat this stuff out of ice cream cones and love it. I tried it one time (a person will eat anything after a couple of bottles of soju) and it actually tasted grosser than it smelled. Throw in the crunchy bug texture and you've got a truly revolting snack. The Koreans love this stuff though. Go figure.

Finally, I've included a shot of the rows of magnificent, majestic, and overwhelmingly beautiful rows of cherry blossoms. (note: sarcasm) So now I figure my six readers are thinking: "This is the best he's got after taking a month off". Not to worry, spring is here and activities abound. As many of you know, I'm taking a trip to Cambodia in a couple of weeks, so I should have plenty to talk about. The next installment, however, will be a feel good local piece involving a bottle of water. Stay tuned, and enjoy the springtime!

Bad English

2007-02-26T06:09:00.000-08:00

Let's see... where should I begin? Sometimes this blog takes me back to my college years (there were quite a few of them, as most of you know), when there is something that I know is due and I should be working on it yet I keep putting it off in favor of going out, watching tv, surfing the internet, and anything else I can kill the time with without actually doing what I need to do. Then after a week or so, it becomes a block in my mind where what I need to do is a big under-taking and that I'm not mentally prepared to do so. I'd then proceed to quit going to class for a couple or few weeks to avoid the responsibility of the assignment that would have taken an hour in the first place. When I'd finally finish the assignment, combined with the others I had missed in my absence, I'd visit the professor with all the work that was due. They'd say: "What happened there?" To which I'd shrug my shoulders and say: "Sorry. I don't have a good excuse and I'm a terrible liar. I hope you will have the mercy to forgive me and let me make it up to you the rest of the semester". I know everyone's wondering how on earth I graduated, and I often wonder that myself. Yet, here I am with a degree in English.

Speaking of English, this is where I segue from my confession/plea for forgiveness to today's topic, which is the preposterous English sentiments I come across all of the time. They're inescapable in Korea, and really bad. I've made a point of reading all of the pencil cases and notebooks I see in the classroom and simultaneously laugh and feel ill. As a grammar geek, I cringe regularly reading these English phrases clearly made by someone who speaks no English. For example: Around my lived porch shall spring each fragrant flower that drinks the dew. I copied this off a pencil case with a picture of a porch in the spring. This is one of the better, grammatically speaking, but is a typical example of how the Koreans strive to print these flowery, non-sensical sweet nothings on every shirt, sign, diary, notebook, pencil case, and gift bag they can find... among other places.

Let's examine item number two, which is one of my favorites: You feel so great happiness when you meet product of LIVING ART LIVING ART for the beauty of Vacuum Bottle make a your life in the Vacuum Bottle to comfortable and raffine. I wouldn't advise using your spelling and grammar check on this, as I had smoke coming out of my computer when I tried it. If you guessed was this printed on the box a coffee thermos came in, you should be an interpreter. There's nothing so beautiful and happiness inducing as a cheap thermos, is there? I know my life has been comfortable and raffine (refined? I dunno) ever since I bought this thermos/piece of art. I should add that it leaks.

Item number three is a real piece of art. When I read this beautiful poem, I cried for a day. Perhaps it wasn't the sentiment that made me cry. Loving in order to love Knows loves you be cause only it will not beable to love. I wrote this (from a pencil case) on the board for my highest level students to correct. Then I looked at it and realized that I couldn't correct this since I could make absolutely no sense of it. It's as if the writer threw a bunch of English words in a hat and picked them out in random order. I still don't know how that accounts for making "be" and "able" one word. Now the world knows what I'm up against over here. I'd love to be a free-lance editor where I could go to companies and restaurants and clean up their ludicrously bad grammar and spelling. Think that the people writing these slogans were in all likelihood hired by these companies for their English speaking abilities... scary. This type of thing motivates me in the classroom in hopes that my students will never write anything like this and get paid for it.

I'm going to leave everyone with a picture I took in a coffee shop in Gyeongju. It may be hard to see with the glare, but sometimes I take pictures the way Koreans speak English. I just thought that I should provide a picture to prove that I'm not making this stuff up. After all, "yogurt be good for the health". The person who wrote this had probably studied English for years, yet could not conjugate the verb "be". Welcome to my world. It would be extremely frustrating if it wasn't so hilarious.

Game on!

2007-02-04T04:09:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody!! It's been a slow couple of weeks with little to report. There have been no mountain excursions to report, nor have there been any adventures. Not to say that life is dull, but I don't have any exciting pictures to show or tales to regale audiences. We did have a birthday party for my friend Hoki last Saturday. This is how Koreans traditionally pose for pictures on their birthdays. I dunno, it must be the confucianism in the water. Many friends were in attendance and we surprised Hoki by showing up at his restaurant. A good time was had by most everyone.

Now... to the really important stuff. Yesterday my Uzbekistan team unveiled our new uniforms--Barcelona style. Kits like these make me feel like the proverbial kid in the candy store. I asked our manager what I owed him for the uniform and season, to which he replied: "For you Chris, free of charge." Sweet. Technically, this means I'm now a professional. On this day we destroyed the French team (the one that took first place last season) 5-1. I think the new unis inspired us. I know mine inspired me. This was just a scrimmage, and our season begins in earnest the first week of March. I predict a first place finish this time around. I've gotten to really like this group. I have a specific niche on this team and we are gelling more and more each game. Oh yeah, by the way, I'm bald now. I had the good sense to shave my head right before a nasty cold snap. I wanted something to make me stand out, since I blend in seamlessly everywhere I go in Asia. In all seriousness, sticking out like a sore thumb is something I long ago got used to. I don't have anything else to add right now, but wanted to show off our new kits to the world. I have another topic that is completely unrelated that I wish to explore this week, so stay tuned.

Back to the mountains

2007-01-21T03:43:00.000-08:00

Things have started to get back to normal in Suwonville. All of my friends have come back from their holiday vacations and life as usual has re-commenced. Yesterday I finally returned to the mountains to do some long anticipated hiking. I hadn't been in the mountains since before the trip to America, so I had been anxious to go. First I had to wait for my mountaineering partner to get back from her training session in Nepal. I had sent Gina to Mount Everest on a trekking expedition so she could better keep up with me. Seriously, I have to commend the girl for spending two weeks on an elephant with a sherpa while staying in places without (gasp) electricity. To think I spent my vacation in Missouri. Who's the more adventurous here?

Gina has an idea to visit every national park in Korea. Since she couldn't find anyone else to go, she has decided to drag me along on her expeditions. Besides, it's nice to get out of Suwon on the weekends and discover new parts of Korea. On this occasion we went to Chiaksan (remember kids, "san" means mountain) national park in Kangwan-do. It took about a two hour bus ride to get there. So, at 6:30 Saturday morning, when my other friends were just rolling in from the bars, I took a taxi to the bus station. We started off at the temple at the base of the very wide mountain. Here is the gratuitous buddha statue picture. I'll include one every time just to prove to everyone back home how they all look alike. It is much colder in Kangwan-do, hence the snow. I came prepared with eisen, so I could easily traverse the icy trails. By the way, "eisen" are steel studs that you attach to your hiking boots for grip in snow and ice. Not only did these things come in handy, but I also said the word "eisen" (pronounced "eye zen") at least 400 times that day.

The hike was long and strenuous, but very rewarding. Hiking through snow and ice expended much more energy than previous climbs, but I kept up with the Everest (hiked around, didn't climb) alum just fine. Years of playing soccer will physically prepare one for just about anything. Here is yours truly standing on the peak. There will be many more of these shots to come. There's no feeling quite like standing on the peak of a mountain looking down on everything within 360 degrees. I love the unique respite of living in the city that comes with being on top of a mountain. I love Suwon... but, when one lives there a while they learn to cherish clean air.
Here is a shot of the mountaineers at the peak monument. Notice how the sky is a different shade? It's because I discovered picasa and doctored the picture to make us look cooler. In the lower left corner, you'll see some Koreans. My only beef with the last two mountains I climbed was the crowd at the top. I love when the top is a quiet, serene experience, as it was on Gayasan. However, at the top of this mountain were groups of Koreans. I have to digress here for a moment and say that Koreans must be the loudest people on the planet. My students will practically yell at each other from three feet away, and I have the sense that Koreans are completely uncomfortable with quiet. Often they talk loud and at length about trivial things in small spaces without any concept of other people. Not to say this is rude--it's not. This is just the way they roll. It's odd, and it drives me a little crazy sometimes, but that's just the way it is. Anway, I meant that to be more an observation than a complaint. It is a little odd to be on the top of a mountain after a long hike--a place I would expect to be quiet and serene--and find it full of animated groups of Koreans cooking ramyan (korean ramen noodles) and yelling at each other from point blank range. I sometimes fight the urge to say: "SHUT UP!! Just enjoy the scenery and fresh air!". I fought it yesterday and won. Also, I managed to have a great time and got vigorous exercise in the process. Looking forward to the next time, and it will be soon.

U.S.A.! U.S.A.!

2007-01-04T21:48:00.000-08:00

For those of you who've wondered where I've been lately, I took a trip home to see my family and friends. It had been just over a year since I'd been home, so I took the opportunity to spend the holiday in the exotic land of, um, Missouri.

Mom and Dad were kind enough to pick me up at the airport. The journey from Seoul to San Francisco to Los Angelas to St. Louis is a long, taxing one. I left Seoul Saturday at 5pm and arrived in St. Louis Saturday at 8:35pm. While I had used only 3 hours in time, the actual time elapsed was about 20 hours. I flew Singapore Air to San Francisco and then American Airlines to L.A. and St. Louis. Going American after Singapore is like drinking Boone's Farm after Rothschild. The wine simile displays a smaller gap in quality, however. The first couple of days in town were spent recovering from jetlag at my parents house. Jetlag is no joke, kids.

Monday evening I met my brother and his lovely daughters Summer (left) and Allison. We met at our favorite Mexican restaurant Pueblo Nuevo. I had a mission to eat quality Mexican food, and Pueblo delivered the goods. Homemade tamales in green sauce--yummy. While I love the food in Korea, good Mexican is something I've long ago given up on. To think I once thought it was hard to find Mexican food in Missouri! The girls were sweet and beautiful as ever, and they were even kind enough to pose with their proud uncle. Too bad I didn't wear pink!

Having gotten the essential Mexican feast out of the way and having seen my family and friends in St. Louis, I made the trip back to my old stomping ground in Columbia. I left on Wednesday and surprised my beautiful sister by popping into her gallery unannounced. It was the first time I had seen her new business, and it was quite gorgeous without being snooty (Perlow-Stevens Gallery, Broadway, Columbia). I was able to spend some q time with her and her family (Chris, Clayton, and Charlie). I had realized that in the bustle of seeing everyone, I had been unable to capture a picture of the ever-active, yet smart, beautiful and lovable Charlotte (Charlie). Clayton and Chris... sorry too, fellas. The best I could come up with was a shot of these two mugs, Tim (left) and Paul. I spent Wednesday night shooting pool with the usual suspects--just like old times! Paul had taken over the soccer team after I left, and the boys are much better for it. They are thriving under the sponsership of Booches, the great old tavern which employed me through college (also the place where this picture was taken).

I spent Christmas eve in St. Louis, where the pictures are captured in neat slideshow form at Perlows.com. We had a nice night with the extended family at Uncle Steven and Aunt Debbie's house. It was great to see everyone, although it was too brief. That is the trouble of being in the state for only two weeks... it's difficult to find the time to see everybody let alone spend significant time with them.

Christmas day was spent at my sister's house in Columbia. Here is a shot of me with Jennifer and Arnie. If you can't tell or don't already know, they're my sister and brother. Aunt Shirley, Mom and Dad, and Arnie's nice new friend Rebecca made the trip that day. I have to take this opportunity to announce that Shirley is the greatest aunt in the world, but isn't pictured. We had an abundant and delicious feast that day consisting of delectable appetizers provided by Rebecca and a succulent crab-stuffed tenderloin provided by my sister. It was a special Christmas for all of us. The only thing that soured it was the viewing of "The Devil Wears Prada" that evening. Yech! I spent a couple of more days in Columbia, doing more of the same--hanging out with the family and then with the boys at night. I should mention that I ate pork tacos at El Rancho, which are the tastiest friggin things on the planet. No joke.

After going back to St. Louis, time was sparse. Two weeks went by in the blink of an eye. Now it feels like the trip was just a dream. It really did happen, as I have the pictures to prove it. I was able to get together with some friends at Growlers (another old familiar stomping ground in Creve Couer). Some of my old Backbar Rover teammates were able to join me, including our latest recruit who's being groomed for the future. Left to Right we have Matt (right midfield with a cannon), Antonio (forward or midfield like his old man), Andy (dynamic and feisty defender), Chris O. (proud papa, manager, captain, and speedster forward), myself (transferred to a Uzbekistani squad), Brad and Mike (no skills, just there for the beer). Also there with us but camera shy are the Pulzins (Matt and Michelle with their beautiful daughter) and Eileen (O's better half and star of my Thailand blog from last year). It was great seeing the boys and drinking quality draft beer. Think it's easy to find a Newcastle pint in Suwon?

Friday night I spent the night out with my brother and Rebecca, and we were in good form. We toasted the town (or got toasted) and said our goodbyes that evening. Saturday afternoon, after saying bye to Mom, who had to work, Dad and I had lunch with Chris O., his beautiful and talented wife Eileen, and his handsome boy Antonio. Afterward, Dad took me to the airport and bid farewell. I spent that evening in San Francisco, where I saw the Flaming Lips with Gnarls Barkley. If you're unfamiliar with those bands: Check them out. The show was amazing, and a perfect send-off. The Flaming Lips were kind enough to count down the new year a day early, which was convenient considering I would be on a plane over New Year's Eve. I left San Francisco at 12:30pm on December 31, and arrived in Seoul at 7:00 January 1. Try wrapping your head around that one. I worked the next day and struggled to stay awake. I've since recovered and gotten back to normal, and am ready to resume my adventures in Korea. This year is going to be great and should be full of more adventures and pictures. Happy New Year Everbody!

Return to Haeinsa

2006-12-06T00:58:00.000-08:00

In my time in Gyeongju, I discovered two passions that would become prominent activities in the weeks after returning. Passion number one, which I had mentioned before, is biking. I have been riding my bike all over the place and wonder why I didn't buy one sooner. Passion number two has been mountain climbing. I had really enjoyed climbing Namsan and realized that this is an activity I could enjoy more often. Each weekend since has involved hiking a different mountain.

A couple of weeks back I had decided to return to the scene where I had lost my camera last summer--Haeinsa. I had been longing to go back ever since. So when my friend and fellow mountaineer Gina suggested we climb the mountain there, I jumped at the opportunity. This is the hotel where I stayed last summer and two weeks ago. The same rustling mountain stream made the familiar melody audible through the open hotel window. The weather was beautiful all weekend, and the turning leaves made the scenery all the more breathless.

Around 10:00 Saturday morning, we embarked on our mountaineering expedition. We followed this road, with the sonorous stream on the right, to the temple and hiked up the mountain. This area is a wonderful retreat from the noise and grime of the city. I had taken a long walk down this road last summer in the evening, savoring the serenity and lack of neon signs. The mountains are usually good for this. It was an added bonus to have such lovely weather so late in the season.

The goal for Saturday was to climb to the peak of Gayasan ("san" means mountain in Hangul). Gayasan is just over 1400 meters high and is the highest peak in the area. The climb was steady and took a little less than 3 hours. Along the way, we saw the temple and some other treasures. We just passed through as we planned to visit the temple the following day. Therefore, I will post the pictures for this later. For now, it's all about the mountain. Here you can see yours truly crouching on the highest peak of the mountain. Don't worry, mom, it's not as dangerous as it looks.

Next we have the two mountaineers posing next to some rock at the peak. If I took a picture of every engraved stone I saw this weekend, it would have taken three memory cards. It was fairly late in the afternoon, so the crowd disappeared down the mountain rapidly. In no time it was just us on the peak, sans noise, Korean chatter, dirt, lights, cars, children, and general mayhem. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I come to the mountains. Not to mention the mountain air is good for the spirit and well-being. That's what Mr. Kwon told me in Gyeongju.

It began to get a bit late, so we began our descent. We had decided to take a different path down, and figure out how to get back once we got to the bottom. The trek down was a brisk, rapid one. It was getting dark, so we didn't want to lolligag. We bounded down the mountain in record time and reached the bottom just as the last vestige of daylight disappeared. However, there was a slight problem when we arrived--we didn't know how to get back. There weren't any taxis around, nor were there buses, so we decided to walk. We followed the road until we reached an intersection where we could go left or right. I was pretty sure right was the way to go, so we hung a ralphie. After walking for a good half-hour, it was apparent that we weren't exactly sure where we were. I was confident we were going in the right direction, but had no idea how far it was. Keep in mind that we had just spent six hours hiking a mountain and had our equipment. A long walk was not the most appealing option at this point. Therefore, we decided to hitch a ride. It is a testament to Koreans in that you can hitch a ride from a total stranger and feel no danger whatsoever. A nice young gentleman picked us up and informed us that we were about 20 kilometers out! The kind sir drove us all the way to the hotel, and was a knight in shining armor in our eyes. If we would have walked, we probably wouldn't have arrived until after 10. Instead we arrived at 7:00 just in time for a delicious dinner. This episode made me realize the value of knowing some Korean. Gina is very competent in this department, so that evening at dinner I enlisted her help to teach me the language. Three weeks later, I'm nearly 100% fluent! Can you believe that? Don't.

Bulguksa!

2006-11-20T01:07:00.000-08:00

Here is the UNESCO recognized Bulguksa in its grandiose bucolic setting. It took alot of riding up and down really big hills to get to this point, so I was hoping for something spectacular. Sure, the temple was beautiful and there was plenty of scenery. However, this touristy historic type of stuff always makes me kind of say: "Anh". I am more a fan of the non-controlled environments such as mountains or very big rocks in Thailand. Since I was here, however, I decided to have a look around.

Here is a scene that typifies the temple. Yes, there are lovely pagodas, statues, shrines, and architecture. Despite the preponderance of artifacts set in an ancient architectual wonderland nestled in the basin of a lovely mountain, there's something askew. When I think of a buddhist temple in the mountains, I picture a solemn scene with monks walking around in quiet contemplation. The monks in Korea talk on their cell phones. The temple was crawling with noisy bustling tourists who were eager to take pictures of anything and everything.

In the midst of the commercialism, there is still some actual Buddhist practice. Even though it's forbidden, I was able to sneak a picture of one of their pagan golden shrines. Some lady saw me and yelled at me, and I replied by saying: "Oooooh. I'm so scared! Is your angry Buddha going to strike me down with lightning? Ooh, Buddha, please spare me!" At least I had the decency to turn off my flash. It was the shutter noise that gave me away. I tried to keep it on the down low, but was busted. I just played dumb (I didn't have to try very hard at this point) and moved on. And as a reward I have this picture for your viewing pleasure.

I find myself getting quickly bored in environments such as these, so I didn't stick around very long. There was another monument nearby that I wanted to see--The Sokorum Grotto. The grotto is one of Korea's great national treasures. It is a massive ancient stone statue of Buddha set in a room carved into the mountain with many other carved treasures in a neatly painted room. Sound neat? Well, I couldn't get any pictures of this one no matter how slick or sacreligious I wanted to be. I wish I would have known this before I took the hour hike up this mountain path.

After coming back down the mountain, it was getting late in the afternoon. I took a long bike ride back to town, which was a beauty since I coasted three quarters of the way. When I got back, I returned my bike and thanked the nice gentlemen who so faithfully rented the bike to me. Being very tired from the weekend activities and having a very sore rear from the long bike rides, I eagerly returned to the Hanjin Hostel after a dinner of Bi Bim Bap (I'm sure I've mentioned this dish before). Later that evening, I donned my teacher's hat and introduced Mr. Kwon to the ancient art of calligraphy. The fact that he invited me to pose with his hat on next to him with the wonderful poem he transcribed for me goes a small way to show the character, hospitality, free-spiritedness, and fun-loving of Mr. Kwon. There are many things I didn't see in my first visit to Gyeongju but, thanks to Mr. Kwon's hospitality, I'll surely return.

Halloween

2006-11-10T02:06:00.000-08:00

First of all, I have to acknowledge that this week was officially the one year anniversary of my first blog entry. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my readers for their encouragment and loyalty, all five of them. One year has flown by and I enjoyed it so much that I signed a contract for another year. I am resolved to remain committed to the blog and will continue to post meandering gobbledygook accompanied by pictures. Without further to do, here's a little taste of Halloween.

The above picture was taken in the teachers' office in between festivities. Left to right are Erica, yours truly (don't ask me what the costume is supposed to be), Joan, and Charles. Halloween is a busy time at Boston as it is our biggest party of the year. I had arrived last year just after, so I hadn't seen this firsthand. There was a ton of work leading up to the day, but admittedly very little was done by me. I did chip in with the haunted house and stayed up til 3am painting on the 30th. When the actual day came along, most of the guys were exhausted.

The kids made the hard work worth it. We had a haunted house (because it was so dark and tight-spaced, I was unable to get any decent pictures. I spent most of the time in said haunted house hiding behind a wall and scaring the kids as they came through. It was alot of fun except for the time I was hit in the crotch with a plastic trident. When I wasn't scaring the children, I was on pinata patrol, which consisted of blind-folding kids, spinning them around, and then getting out of the way of their wildly flailing bat. The night was full of festivity, candy, and laughter. I'm happy the kids had so much fun, because I was completely worn out afterwards.

Here we have a nice shot of Sacha and Shannon in the office. Shannon was a good sport to wear her witch costume, but I was a little disappointed in Sacha. He could have at least worn a mask, or put together some sort of impromptu costume. Seriously, the teachers had a great time as well as the kids. We're just happy this only happens once a year.

Another "Pathetic excuse for an entry"

2006-11-09T03:04:00.000-08:00

You wanna know the best way to make a vacation last?? You drag it out for a month after returning by slacking on your blog, that's how. On the third day I decided to take a trip to Bulguksa temple. Bulguksa is a UNESCO heritage site and is one of Korea's great historical treasures. First off, I had to get there. I spoke to Mr. Kwon that morning and he gave me specific directions to reach the temple by bicycle. He made it sound really easy, but, wow, it was a trek!

The ride started by going the opposite direction down the river I had crossed two days earlier. I was to take the bike path as far as I could until it ran into an overpass. Then I would take the road through the mountains, past a lake resort, and follow the signs to the temple. Normally, directions this concise backfire and I end up getting lost. Mr. Kwon knows his stuff, though, and the ride went precisely as planned. It was just a longer ride than I imagined. My rear was already sore from the long ride the day before, so the best remedy would be a long journey through hilly terrain. It paid off when I rode past places like this lake. It is a rare thing for me to find a place in Korea this clean and quiet.
This is the road I took after the lake. This hill is much steeper and longer than the picture leads to believe. It must have taken half an hour to make it up this hill. However, the great thing about laboring up a gigantic hill is the payoff of riding down it. After this climb, I coasted all the way to Bulguksa. I enjoyed my bike riding adventures in Gyeongju so much that I bought a bike as soon as I returned to Suwon. You wonder where I've been lately? I've been riding my bike everywhere and loving it.

I got to the temple and was greeted on the way in by these two gentlemen. I believe their names are Lenny and Karl. Lenny and Karl were carved over 900 years ago when the Spanish invaded Southern Korea and were defeated with the help of the Roman army. The great thing about the trip to the temple was the fact that I learned so much about history. Whereas I should have written these things down to be sure, I'm fairly certain my memory has preserved the historical accuracy (tongue is firmly in cheek). I'm sure everyone is dying to find out what the rest of the day was like and what treasures lie within the temple... but you'll have to wait until next week. In between, I'm adding a Halloween bonus (a week and a half after Halloween).

At long last, day two of Gyeongju

2006-10-12T22:22:00.000-07:00

Let's see... hmmm... what is it that I've been forgetting? There's something I've been needing to do and I can't seem to remember... Oh yeah! The blog! I still have some Gyeongju business to attend to before I get on with my life in Suwon, so here it is:

Day two I decided to rent a bike and ride to Mount Namsan. Namsan is a place full of temples, stone buddhas, shrines, and museums. It is also a wonderful climb, but first I should digress and talk about the bike rental. I found it very telling about Gyeongju and Korea in that I rented a mountain bike for two days for ten dollars. I didn't sign a waiver or show an ID. The guy didn't even ask my name. I gave him money and he gave me a map. He pointed me in the direction of Namsan and said something to the extent of: "Have fun, see you later."

I should mention that my shoes were still wet from the river crossing fiasco the day before, so I had to wear sandals. When will I learn?! I climbed Mount Namsan in these sandals, and the breathtaking scenery made up for the damage inflicted on my feet. The climb took about two hours, and I was able to find some neat shrines and a great view of the mountains.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon riding my rented bicycle around randomly looking for sights worth seeing. I took more pictures than this blog could handle, but I was able to include a fair number. The pagodas and statues below were taken at the Gyeongju museum, and I've included a couple of other random shots as well.

On a final note, I should apologize for the lack of activity the last couple of weeks. So much has happened since my last entry, and I've only covered one day since on the blog. I promise to finish Gyeongju early next week and will have plenty more to post to catch everyone up. Lastly, I have to express my excitement for the Cardinals winning the world series. I watched the whole thing, and was jumping for joy

Welcome to Gyeongju

2006-10-12T22:15:00.000-07:00

Phase two of the vacation: here we go. The whole idea of a trip to Gyeongju came from a British friend. We had bought train tickets weeks in advance, but my traveling partner overslept this morning. Thus goes the old expression: "Never trust a Brit when they ask you to go to Gyeongju." I'm not one to abide by old cliches, but this well known maxim proved to be true in this instance. Actually, I was happy to be relieved of the burden of another person's agenda and looked forward to experiencing this spot for myself.

Gyeongju is a UNESCO world heritage site that is essentially a huge outdoor museum of the Silla dynasty. There are tombs, shrines, pagodas, temples, and buddhas everywhere. Knowing this, I figured I would just wander around the first day and see what I'd run into. I checked into the Hanjin Hostel (more on that later) just after 12:00, and set out wandering immediately after.

Having no agenda or time frame, I happened upon this river path. It was a beautiful windy fall afternoon, and I savored the sound of the wind which drowned out the children's' shrill voices still pounding in my head. On my left side was the city, while some enticing mountains lie just across the river. Hmmm... How to cross the river?
Perhaps the best idea would be to find a dry patch and walk across. There seemed to be some places where I could cross without getting my feet wet. I'd just have to walk until I found one of these spots. Use the bridge, you say? I'd have to walk all the way back to the road--how much fun would that be?
I found a seemingly dry path until I came to a spot where I had no choice but to wade through the last twenty meters. The wet shoes would certainly make for a comfortable hike up the mountain. I did make it to the mountain (where I am pictured in my Yankees cap), but my hike was cut somewhat short due to soggy feet. Why do I choose to kill my feet every time I go on vacation? I didn't see much historical stuff day one, but I did see this stunning mound. The hike was very relaxing, however.

I went back to the Hostel around 5:00 and chatted with the owner, Mr. Kwon. The Hanjin Hostel is a family business that has been around for thirty years. The younger Mr. Kwon, who had spent twenty years living in the States, moved back to Korea when his father turned 80 to take over the business. His father is in spectacular shape for a man his age. He practices yoga every day and could pass for a man 20 years younger. These fine gentlemen have a passion for foreign travelers and have made many friends from all over the world. The hostel's rooms are bare, but there is a community kitchen, television room, and rooftop veranda; all geared toward travelers communing, socializing, and exchanging ideas and stories. That evening I ate dinner with two American English teachers from Suwon, and two German med-students from Seoul. When we came back from dinner, we sojourned to the rooftop where all the other foreigners gathered. This weekend, I would meet people from Germany, France, Switzerland, New Zealand, England, U.S.A., and, of course, Canada.

Yet another tale of Daecheon

2006-10-09T04:04:00.000-07:00

I didn't have the courtesy of announcing it this time, but I had yet another vacation the previous week. Last week was Chusok (sp?), which is a big Korean holiday where most business's close on tuesday, thursday, and friday. The kids have the week off from school, and I had the pleasure of having a one-day work week. Wednesday is referred to as "sandwich day", since it falls between two holidays. Thankfully, our hogwan was gracious enough to close on this day, so I only worked monday. With four days off, I felt a little traveling was in order. Having learned about this vacation in short notice, the best idea was to travel around Korea.

My first trip was a peaceful jaunt back to the familiar confines of Daecheon Beach. Having been there twice before, I found it an entirely different experience than the first two. Each trip to this beach has produced a totally different atmosphere. This time proved to be the most peaceful. The idea was to catch the last bastion of warm weather for the season and read a good book on the beach. Mission acccomplished on both fronts. The weather was beautiful and the reading was spectacular.

The first couple of times I had been to this beach, it had been very crowded. This time, however, it was nearly vacant, at least, by Korean standards. I took a picture of this street because it is a site I rarely ever see in Korea. There's absolutely noone in site! Not a soul on this street, which was buzzing the last time I visited. Ahhh, this is the way to enjoy a book. The book of choice was QB VII, by Leon Uris, and I knocked out most of it that afternoon on the beach. Uris has a style I enjoy in which he employs the use of short chapters to keep the pages turning. When I know I can knock out a chapter in a few minutes, I'm much more prone to continue.

QB VII is a story written in four parts. Part one is the story of a Dr. Adam Kelno. Dr. Kelno is a Polish nationalist hero who had spent time in the hellish German World War II prison camp in Jadwiga. Kelno moved to England after the war for political asylum. Poland, now communist, is trying to extradite him on charges of performing experimental surgeries on Jewish prisoners under the watch of German war criminals. Thus, he is accused of being a war criminal himself. Because of political reasons, England is reticent to extradite him to communist Poland, and holds him in Brixton prison for two years until his name is cleared. Kelno then moves to the far east to practice medicine on a remote third world island.

Part two shifts gears to a character by the name of Abraham Cady. Abe Cady is a Jewish novelist who had suffered his own versions of hell in the war. He had somehow survived himself, but had lost many family members in the holocaust. His early career after the war is one of writing pulpy novels and screenplays, but his underlying aspiration is to go to newly formed Israel and write an enlightening and honest novel about the Jews and the holocaust.

In part three, Cady writes his novel with much blood, sweat, and tears. It becomes an instant international success, but he runs into a snag. One paragraph in the book implicates Dr. Kelno as performing brutal experimental surgeries in Jadigwa. Dr. Kelno, now a knighted surgeon in England, sues him for libel and demands the book be recalled.

Part four is the actual trial, in which the true character of each, um, character comes out. It is an intriguiging and educational story, which casts an enlightening glance on many aspects of post WWII life, including Jewish nationalism, Polish communism and nationlism, and the English commonwealth. I would not give away the ending, but I do wish to highly recommend this novel and give the real reason for my lengthy description. And I digress...

There is a character who emerges in the second half of the book by the name of Dr. Dimshits. Having described the serious nature and academic value of this book, I have to say I laughed every time I came across this name. I have no idea why Mr. Uris chose this name, as I would have used "Dr. Jackass" or "Buttlicker, M.D.". It reminded me of a story a fellow English teacher told me a couple of weeks back about her friend who worked in an inner-city high school. One of her students names was, get this: "Shithead" (pronounced shi-theed). I'll go ahead and say it: If one wants to get on this blog, all they need is a funny name.

Anyway, back to the beach. After spending the entire afternoon reading, I visited my favorite sauna in Korea and had a sea water bath and then a mud bath. That evening I went back to the same place I had been with Pam and friends the first time, and then with Gina and Sacha the second. This time, I took a picture of the delicious grilled scallops. Notice again how there's noone else around. This was my third time eating the same thing at the same place, and each experience was distinctively different. All of them were very good.

After dinner, I went back to the beach and watched the sunset. It was a little hazy on the horizon, and didn't hold a candle to what I witnessed in Thailand. Still, it sure beat teaching. I chilled in this spot for a long time and then turned in at my cozy cheap hotel room. This was the first small leg of the vacation. I arrived back in Suwon Wednesday evening, and had a ticket booked for Gyeongju on Friday morning. "What is Gyeongju?", you say. Stay tuned, and I'll tell you all about it.

My life in pictures (well, not my WHOLE life)

2006-09-25T03:01:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since there's been any color in this blog, so it's time to catch up. After coming back from vacation, I purchased a new camera in Seoul. That day I took a long walk down the Han River with my homie Gina and messed around with my new toy (the camera). I'm kind of worded out from the novel I wrote about the last three days of my last vacation, so I'll spare everyone the heavy reading and let you enjoy the pictures. To your left is a shot of some dragon sculpture thing in Seoul. I dunno.

Next we have a nice sepia shot of the Han River. The lighting for this picture and the positive-negative ratio worked out perfectly. At least that's what a friend who knows an iota about photography told me. It happened in this instance purely by accident. It did work out pretty well.

This is yours truly standing on some overwalk near Itaewon in Seoul. The strap you see on my shoulder is connected to the accessory bag I purchased to keep my camera in. Some want to call it a "man purse", but I prefer the term "bum sack". That term came courtesy of my Australian buddy Sacha.

Next we get to the really important stuff--the soccer picture. I began playing with the Uzbekistan team in Seoul a few weeks back, and have really enjoyed the international league. On this occasion, we beat the German side 4-3, with the deciding goal fortuitously bouncing off my head and somehow landing in the goal. The guys are really friendly and I'm enjoying the league very much. I forgot how much I enjoyed actually being able to talk to my teammates and opponents and be understood.

Last, but not least, I told the three most beautiful women in Korea I'd post their pictures. If you've been following, you should recognize the woman in the black and white picture as Pamela. Pam is Chilean by way of Canada. I often call her a hybrid. She is a lovely poser for pictures, as you all know, but this time I caught her in a natural state. The two women in the other picture are Shannon from New Zealand, and Gina from Milwaukee. Shannon liked this picture very much so I promised her I'd post it. These two are always a pleasure to be around. I ate Egyptian food with them last night and had the best hummus ever.

On a final note, I have to sheepishly acknowledge the butchering of a certain insect's name in the last installment. I have never actually spelled the word "cicada" before, so how was I to know? I'm not one to normally misspell words, so I have to admit my wrongdoing and rectify the mistake. Without further to do: A cicada is any of several insects of the order Hemiptera, suborder Auchenorrhyncha, in the superfamily Cicadoidea, with small eyes wide apart on the head and transparent, well-veined wings. Cicadas live in temperate to tropical climates where they are one of the most widely recognized of all insects, largely due to their large size and remarkable (and often inescapable) acoustic talents. Cicadas are sometimes called "locusts", although they are unrelated to true locusts, which are a kind of grasshopper. Cicadas are related to leafhoppers and spittlebugs. Thanks, wikapedia!

Every vacation must come to an end

2006-09-19T21:39:00.000-07:00

Finally, the time has come to conclude my vacation. I've dragged it on as long as I could, but it's time to write the last photoless entry. This installment will explain why the last entries have been photoless. This last day is particularly painful to recollect, as it only reminds me of all the pictures I lost. However, the silver lining in the cloud is the fact that the incident forced my hand to buy a new camera which I'm extremely happy with. Look forward to seeing some nice pics in the next installment. For now...

Thursday morning arrived after a painful (because of a little too much sun), yet fulfilling sleep in the comfortable hotel room. I had decided to travel to Jinju, which leads me to digress. On the train to Busan, Gina read many tidbits from her Lonely Planet Korea guidebook. I had expressed my belief that I was not a guidebook person. I felt that guidebooks robbed vacations of spontaneity and adventure, the kind I had experienced on my last vacation. However, when my plan changed in Busan and I decided to go to an unknown place, I decided I needed a map. Gina's guidebook had a very nice map, so she was kind enough to let me borrow it for the week. I can't stress how handy this book ended up being. I was able to locate interesting sites I wouldn't have known about and also knew exactly how to get there. I looked at the different cities available at the bus terminal at Okpo and settled on Jinju.

Jinju is a quiet, clean city built around a river. The cities lone claim to fame is the Jinjuseong fortress. Jinju was a good option for me in that I could take a bus from there to my desired Thursday evening destination, Haeinsa (more on that later). I arrived in Jinju around 11am, and purchased a ticket to Haeinsa. The bus didn't leave until 5:50, so I had plenty of time to check out Jinju and it's reknowned fortress. "Local street signs call it a castle, but it's actually a well-preserved fortress built during the Goryeo dynasty that was partially destroyed during the Japanese invasion of 1592. It was here that one of the major battles of the campaign was fought, in which 70,000 Koreans lost their lives. Inside the fortress walls, traditional gates, shrines, and temples dot the grassy knolls of this heavily wooded oval park." (Lonely Planet p. 224) See what I mean about the guidebook? I promptly purchased one after returning home.

It's hard to believe their was such a bloody battle on this site. It was one of the most serene places I had been to in Korea. The gardens were beautifully manicured and there were trees everywhere. I can't say how nice it is to hear the buzz of secadas after living in the dirty concrete labyrinth that is Suwon. I walked around this fortress for over two hours, basking in the gentle garden breeze. The shrines were pristine, and showed a pride and respect for the bold men who lost their lives fighting for their nation's independence. There were numerous pagodas and small villages which were beautifully restored and stunning to the eye. I captured so many pictures, and accidentally released them into the wild. I ate a tasty lunch at a restaurant in this fortress, once again conjuring my Korean reading skill to order something I eat five times a week: Bi bim bap. Bi bim bap is a dish consisting of fresh vegetables, rice, a sunny-side-up egg, chili paste, and rice. It's a tasty nutritious meal that is consistently good nearly wherever I order it.

After traversing the fortress, I still had a couple of hours to kill. I took this time to roam around the small downtown area, in search of a clean shirt. I have to say that I hadn't done laundry, and was beginning to smell at this point. I came across an E-Mart, and bought a couple of shirts for a bargain. After that came the time to find a place to shower and put on clean threads. So I wandered around in search of a sauna, and knew what Korean word to look for. After walking many blocks, I finally found one with just over an hour to kill. The sauna provided me with a shower, hot tub, and steam room. I emerged one hour later feeling like a new man ready to take the next leg of my trip.

I had chosen to go to Haeinsa for the following reason: "As well as being one of Korea's most significant temples, Haeinsa is also one of the most beautiful. Part of its beauty lies in the natural setting of mixed deciduous and coniferous forest. It's a romantic's paradise in wet weather, when wisps of cloud drift at various levels through the forest." (LP p. 174) Again, Lonely Planet... What would I have done without it? I arrived in Haeinsa after dark, and was intent on visiting the temple early the next morning.

That evening I discovered an atmosphere more calming and bucolic than anything I had seen in previous days. The village where I stayed was a dark and quiet place in the mountains built along a rustling brook. I booked a twenty dollar room in a beautifully quaint hotel situated along the river. I put my things in my room and promptly left to explore the small area. The smell was fresh and clean, and the village was pristinely clean. I walked for a couple of miles down a sidewalk along the said rustling brook. I mentioned the sign in Hakpo boasting one of the 100 most beautiful sounds in Korea, but it didn't hold a candle to the sound of this stream rapidly rushing over large stones. I was at total peace walking along this dark sidewalk, breathing the fresh air and basking in the wonderfully soothing sounds. After getting to a place away from any artificial lights, I looked up at the sky and was floored.

I've become so accustomed to living in cities where the sky is blurred by the intense light from the urban jungle. In this place, however, there was absolutely no obscurity to the starry night whatsoever. I could see every star in the sky, and the white smear that is the milky way. It had been many years since I saw the night sky this vividly. I laid on the ground gaping at the incredible wonder of a clear night sky. I thought of all the things man has invented, and of all the artists, and movies, and contraptions, and such forth. And I thought of how none of these man-made conceptions could ever in a million years hold a candle to what I was seeing at that moment.

After a long, contemplative gaze at the sky, I headed back down the stream toward the hotel. I was completely at peace at this point and was ready to turn in to wake up early the next day. My hotel room's window was about 15 meters from the brook, and there was a gentle breeze flowing through the screen window. The television in the room was never turned on, as I laid on the bed and relished the sedating noise of the brook. Needless to say, I slept like a baby that evening.

The next morning I woke up early and packed my things to go to the temple. The first thing I wanted to do that day was to take pictures of the town, the mountains, and the brook. So the first thing I reached for in my bag was my camera, and everyone by now knows what the result was. The temple never materialized as I spent the morning futilly searching for my camera. It was never to be found. I believe I left in on a bus when I was rushedly transferred to another bus after being woke up. This knowledge did me no good, as I had a Korean call the bus terminals and they said they had nothing. Frustrated, I decided to pack it up and head back to Suwon. I took a bus to Daegu and then transferred to a bus to Suwon. I returned home around 6:00 that evening. One weekend soon, I plan to return to Haeinsa and visit the temple. This time around, I'll have pictures to show.

Two weeks later and wednesday's here

2006-09-11T06:54:00.001-07:00

Time again to reach deep down and grasp the creative energies needed to create a post without pictures. I recently solved my camera dilemma, so expect the post-vacation entries to be chalk full of crisp, clean images. First, however, I must finish my vacation. On this particular wednesday, I was in no hurry whatsoever to finish.

I woke up early after sleeping on a bed of rocks with the consolation for the wretched night of attempted rest being a pebble beach in my backyard. Although it was early, the day had already shown itself to be hot and sunny. There were few people up and around when I rented an umbrella, a mat, and a tube. I set my space up and walked back up to the main strip in search for coffee. When there's no Starbucks around, finding a decent cup of joe in Korea can be next to impossible. This morning, a morning where I especially wanted a nice hot cup o' bucks, I had to settle for instant swill from the nearby convenience store. I drank coffee not for enjoyment, but rather to prevent the imminent headache that comes when I forego the morning cup.

I choked down the wretched quasi-coffee after sitting down on my beach mat. The atmosphere was still quite calm and quiet, so I picked up "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Since the first time I went to Daecheon, when it was so chaotic, I had a burning desire to sit at a quiet beach by myself and read a good book. Now, the dream would become a reality. Sitting comfortably in front of the sea, I read the first four chapters while listening to the now familiar sound of waves rushing into pebbles. While reading this masterpiece I came to two realizations: 1. "Gatsby" was re-affirming Fitzgerald as my favorite author more with each chapter. 2. Scott had more talent in his left pinky than I have in my entire medula oblongata. He also had a more acute proclivity for comparisons.

With four chapters down, the sun was beginning to beat down. A summer sweat took hold of my skin, and I decided to press on for two more chapters and jump into the sea. The water was cool and refreshing, as I took a long swim. After swimming, I realized I was getting hungry. The clock was pressing 11, so I made a plan to read a couple more chapters while drying in the sun and then get lunch.

It was just before 11:30 when I temporarily abandoned Jay Gatsby to sate my hunger. Walking down the main strip, I looked at the Korean menus printed on signs or on the restaurant windows in search of dwen jang jiggae. Dwen jang has become one of my favorite foods, and has been mentioned before on this blog. It is a spicy soup made from fermented soy with tofu, vegetable, and a hint of seafood (usually small clams). While it sounds (and often smells) funky, it's quite delicious. The jiggae I had this day was no exception, although I didn't eat the mussels. I'm not such a fan of mussels, as I find them to have a dirty taste. As I ate, I thought about where I would stay that evening, and decided to call Mr. Ju after lunch.

After lunch, I walked back down the strip toward my umbrella and came across an unusual sign. The picture I took of this sign might be the one I miss the most. It said that waves of Hakpo Beach had been selected by a committee as being one of the 100 most beautiful sounds in Korea. I laughed wondering exactly who was on the committee and what their credentials were. I also found it funny that a place would take so much pride in cracking the top 100 sounds in a country the size of Minnesota. I wonder if the jackass with the loud speaker selling fruit outside my apartment every morning made the list?

I talked to Mr. Ju on the phone and agreed to meet at his restaurant early evening. This gave me a few more hours to enjoy the beach and finish the book. The rest of the afternoon I did just that. I alternated between swimming, floating on a tube, and reading on the beach. I was also able to salvage some time to watch the Koreans act like Koreans. There was a large group of older Koreans standing ankle deep in the water, fully clothed with hats and umbrellas. The ladies were singing, dancing, and whooping it up. I took some funny pictures, but... yeah, you know. The tide came in later that afternoon and I giggled as I watched the Koreans screaming and laughing as the monster two-and-one-half foot waves broke 10 feet off the shore. I finished Gatsby around 3, and decided to take one more dip. I swam just long enough to cool off, and warm up the ocean if you get my drift. I turned in my tube and mat, and walked back to the tent. After packing up the tent, I got into a taxi bound for Okpo.

I arrived at The London Pub around 5:00, and was anxious to get a shower. I told Mr. Ju that I wanted to get a room and come back for dinner. I had taken a couple of looks at the menu and the steaks were looking pretty good. I had never ordered a steak in Korea, so I was looking forward to treating myself. The only other time I had steak here was on New Years Day when my neighbor Charles grilled one for me. The room proved to be more than adequate, so I spent over an hour showering, relaxing, and looking through my pictures (ouch). I went back to the pub around 6:30 and ordered a t-bone. I tried to keep expectations to a minimum, but regardless the steak turned out to be really tasty and satisfying. I finished dinner, thanked Mr. Ju for all his help, and retired to my room. The only other action that evening was a brief walk around Okpo and a visit to a PC room. I was so fried and exhausted from all of the sun and swimming, that it took nothing for me to fall asleep early that night.

A final note on wednesday: If you haven't read "The Great Gatsby", I highly recommend it. It is among the finest mystery novels ever written, and the prose is awe-inspiring.

The keyboard is mightier than the digicam

2006-09-05T06:01:00.000-07:00

The last time I went on vacation, my feet were a casualty. This time, my camera was. Yes, I lost my camera on the very last day of vacation, so I can only rely on my feeble words for the rest of the week. The pictures from Busan came courtesy of Gina, so I have nothing to show for the time after I left her and Jason. Oh well, here we go...

The last time I wrote, I mentioned that I had wavered on the idea of Japan, and it came to full fruition the following day. I decided that I was having a good time in southern South Korea, so I opted to tour a few cities. The first stop would be Geongedo, an island just south of Busan. After a somewhat uneventful day in Busan, I said goodbye to my friends and took the 3:00 ferry to the island. I slept the entire ferry ride, and woke up at Okpo.

Okpo is the island's second largest port, and the third largest shipyard in Korea. When I groggily stepped off the ferry, I had the sudden realization that I knew nothing about the island and that I might have a harder time than normal encountering English speakers. I noticed a restaurant on the port called "London Pub", and thought that I might be able to find some direction at this place. Walking to the pub, I was hoping I could have a cold one and talk to someone about the island and where to go--It was obvious there was little to do in Okpo.

I walked into the pub and was greeted with a warm "hello" from the hostess, which was a good sign (no "an yang hah se yo"). I sat down at a table and ordered a Becks Dark, and was greeted by the manager before the beer arrived. He was warm and friendly, and asked where I was from and where I was going. I told him about Busan and that a Korean friend (Jason) recommended this island. I also told him I had no idea where to go or how to get there. He responded by getting a map and sitting down with me and telling me all about the island, and how to get where I was going. I found out that the island is spread out, and transportation is uncharacteristicly (for Korea) inconvenient.

The Korean gentleman offered to give me a ride to wherever I needed to go, as he was on his break before dinner. He said he would take me down the coast to the nicer beaches, and I happily accepted. As he gave me a tour of the island, we chatted about traveling and my time in Korea. He introduced himself as Mr. Ju. Mr. Ju expressed a fondness for travelers and adventure. He said: "I like the traveling man... he is open minded person." We toured a good half hour down the coast, until we came to a lovely pebble beach, by the name of Hakpo. I wanted to stay here, so he dropped me off. He told me to call him during his break that week if I needed anything, and that he would arrange lodging if I wanted to go back to Okpo. I thanked him, shook his hand, and we parted ways.

I had been lugging a tent around all week, so I decided it was time to put it to use. I pitched and was set up on the beach by 5:00, so I decided to take a dip. This beach was a drastically different scene than Haendai. For one, there was no sand, and the water was very clean. The bigger difference was the fact that hardly anyone (for Korea) was here, and it was very quiet. I took a pleasant swim for an hour, and then changed in the tent to get something to eat. I had no idea where to go, so I walked down the main strip, which was small and quiet. I ended up taking an extended walk when I discovered a nice walkway through the trees down the coast. This was a lit, wooden, railed path that proved to be a serene jaunt.

After walking back, I was really hungry. So I stopped at the first Hof I saw to grab a brewski and a bite. When I looked at the menu, I saw a list of dishes written in Hangul, with no pictures or English translations. I had learned to read Hangul some time ago, but had never really had to rely on it. This week that would change. I can happily say that I was able to decipher the menu, and had a pleasant dinner of kimchi bokum bap (kimchi fried rice--a safe bet).

After dinner, it was dark outside. On the way to the tent, I picked up a beer and some roman candles and figured I'd spend the evening listening to the ocean. After lighting the roman candles, which had 50 shots a piece, I walked back down the path I took earlier to a quieter spot. I should say this about Hakpo Beach: There may not be a finer collection of skipping stones on the planet and the water is reasonably calm. I sat on a rock overlooking the sea and savored the tranquil noise of the small waves gently lifting the pebbles up and carrying them back down the edge of the water. I enjoyed the rare sight of a horizon and a clear dark sky. I also threw about two hundred beautiful, flat, round stones into the sea, with about a thousand collective skips. This night quietly approached the serenity and beauty that I had only seen in Thailand.

Unfortunately, the rocks don't make for such a comfortable bed. I did have a small mat down in the tent, but didn't have the most comfortable sleep. Fortunately, I thought it might be uncomfortable, so I drank a bunch of beer before crashing. I was able to salvage some sleep that evening, but didn't really care knowing that I would spend the next day on a lovely beach.

Not your typical day at the beach

2006-08-29T02:58:00.000-07:00

Monday morning we woke up bright and early and made our way to Haendai Beach. There just happened to be a Starbucks on the way, so we stopped and got coffee first. Have I ever mentioned that I have an affinity for Starbucks?

Haendai beach is by far the most crowded beach I've ever seen. There were at least 300,000 umbrellas on this beach, and close to a million people. We got there good and early, so we secured an umbrella in a decent spot. Despite the multitudes of Koreans, the swimming was pretty good. Koreans are generally poor swimmers, and the water is deep at this beach. All the way down the coast, one can see where the water ceases to be shallow. I could look all the way down and there would be less than 10 people total past this point. Therefore, the swimming experience was an isolated one.
The deep end of the pool, so to speak, was the only place to get away from the crowd. I rented a tube and floated away down the coast, never bumping into anyone. When I went back to the umbrella, however, it was a completely different story. From underneath, all I could see in either direction was a endless row of umbrellas, like a giant canopy. All day long there were Koreans ducking underneath this umbrellas, selling fried chicken and beer while tiptoing around people's mats. We spent the entire day at this place, breaking for lunch at a truly excellent buffet. Jason has a real knack for finding good restaurants. While it may seem as if the crowd was overwhelming, a day at the beach is still a day at the beach. It was relaxing and fun. I especially enjoyed watching the Koreans freak out when the waves came in, later that afternoon. They would collectively scream when each dinky wave broke five feet from the shore. It was the kind of screaming you would hear on a roller coaster. Even though most of them can't swim, the Koreans really enjoy the water.

Later that evening, we found a hotel and took nice long showers. For me, there is never a better shower than one taken after a day on a beach. After washing off the sand and getting pretty, we went to the Russian district. This area is full of Russian and Phillipino restaurants and bars, and is a quite different atmosphere from what I've grown accustomed to. I had wanted to get out of Korea, and in this particular place, I felt like I had. Pictured are the delicious lamb skewers we had for dinner. The chest on the right belongs to the nice lady at the restaurant, who grilled our meat for us. After dinner, we hung around the district, hopping from one place to another. We didn't settle on any place for long, but rather skipped around all evening. Throughout the course of the evening, I expressed a new found indecision on my plans for the rest of the week. While I had originally planned to go to Japan, I was beginning to waffle. I wouldn't make a decision that evening, but I went to bed thinking about where I would go the next day.

Second vacation, first day

2006-08-23T03:59:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in the office at the good old hogwan right now. It's quiet, but in about an hour it will be the usual storm of rampaging children. Last week I was able to get far away from the noise and chaos, and I have to admit I didn't think about my students even once. While this vacation was a far cry from trekking down the coast in Thailand, it certainly had its moments. While there was no imminent danger this time around, there were certainly challenges mixed in with the relaxation.

The last time I took a vacation, I had about three days to plan. This time around, I had known for several weeks I would have this week off. So you think I would have planned everything to a "T", right? Of course not, I decided to go with the flow. A couple of weeks prior I had met a nice Korean fellow named Jason, and we got around to talking about vacations. I had told him that I was thinking about many different things for my week off, and was unsettled. He countered by telling me he had the first part of that week off and was planning a trip to Busan. I knew that my friend Gina had that part of the week off and wanted to go somewhere, so I decided to drag her along as well.

Our week started off early Sunday, in a little southern city called Jeonju. Jason had gone on Saturday, and Gina and I met him that Sunday. Jeonju is a very pretty, quiet, clean town, which is a welcome respite from the noisy, polluted streets of Suwon and Seoul. Jason went because he likes the food and he knew some friends. Upon arrival, we decided to visit the folk village, and then have lunch. This is the lovely clean street where the folk village lies. Notice how there's no garbage on the streets... how nice.

In the early part of the day, we walked around the village, taking in the sights and basking in the tranquility. Actually, we were wandering around aimlessly taking pictures, but the former sentence was prettier. It was a gorgeous, clear day, although a little hot. We enjoyed the scenery for a couple of hours, and decided to lunch. Here are a couple of photos of the village. The first picture of me in front of the trees is also from that spot. I should note that the way I'm postured in the picture makes it look like I've got a gut, but I don't. Not a big one, at least. Anyway, the place was very pretty.

After meandering around the city for a while, we were all very hungry. Jason wanted to show us a good restaurant that served a plethora of side dishes--He didn't disappoint. Jason loves all kinds of food and is fond of indulging in diverse culinary experiences, which put him in good standing with Gina and I right away. For 5,000 won each (a little less than five dollars), we we're treated to three different soups and over twenty side dishes, not to mention rice. It's nice to have so much variety on the table. I tried all of the sides save two or three. While I've tried all kinds of strange foods here, there are still some things that I just won't touch. The side dishes I had were good quality and very tasty.

After lunch, we took a bus to Busan. Busan is an international port city and is the second largest city in Korea. Korea is a homogenius society, with different ethnicities few and far between. Busan, however, is somewhat of an exception. It is as culturally diverse a city as one can find in Korea, maybe even moreso than Seoul. I had wanted to visit this city since I moved here, and enjoyed the opportunity. The bus ride took almost four hours, so we didn't arrive until well after dark. We had a late dinner on the beachfront, and it was very delicious. We feasted on fresh grilled eel and grilled scallops, with a little soju to wash it down. We sat outside in a tent, and the proprietors were some of the warmest, friendliest Koreans I'd been around. (This is not to say that Koreans aren't warm and friendly, but rather to accentuate the particular niceties of these workers.) I know grilled eel may sound funny to some of you, but damn if it wasn't the best seafood I'd ever eaten. I wasn't sure what to expect the next day, but I did know we'd eat well.

Vacation's all I ever wanted...

2006-08-11T20:24:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody!!! Sorry there's no pictures this week. Fear not, however. I'm on vacation this week and will have plenty to post and talk about when I get back. We all remember what happened the last time I went on vacation. I promised my mother I wouldn't get lost in the jungle this time, though.

Tomorrow I'm heading to Jeonju (you know as much about this city as I do), and then to Busan. Busan is a beach city on the southern coast. It's the second largest city in Korea. I'll spend a couple of days there and then take a ferry to Japan. I'm really looking forward to the sushi! Expect many pictures and exciting tales (let's hope) in the following week. Since I won't be posting the next week, it will give everyone a chance to review previous entries. There will be a test when I return home.

Sorry, I'm still thinking as a teacher. I think I need to go to the beach and forget about it. Take care, all.

A tale of two Daecheons

2006-07-24T21:22:00.000-07:00

It's Friday afternoon, and I'm getting ready to finish a long work week. It's pouring rain outside (wouldn't you know?), and I'm thinking about sunnier times. The couple of times in the last two weeks I had a break from the deluge, I just happened to be at the beach.

Two weeks ago I went to the Mud Festival on Daecheon Beach. I had bought my train ticket weeks in advance, and was happy to have a seat for what was certain to be a very crowded event. Come to realize, three days before depature, that I had bought a ticket to Daejeon, not Daecheon. This isn't the first time this type of thing has happened. One day I was to meet a friend in Sincheon, and couldn't find her because I was in Sinchon. At least those two places are in the same city--Daejeon is on the other side of Korea. I was able to exchange my ticket, but I ended up with a standing ticket, which equated to 2 and 1/2 hours of misery. I was packed in a car with a bunch of obnoxious and loud foreignors, most of whom were already drunk at 10:30am.

When I reached Daecheon, I met Pamela, who had a miserable trip down herself. We decided right away we wanted nothing to do with the crowd, so we covered ourselves in mud and did our own thing. I should take this opportunity to mention that the mud in Daecheon is very high in mineral content and considered therapeutic. After sitting on the beach and drinking soju, we washed the mud off in the ocean. The tide was coming in, and we caught some nice waves.

After showering and getting pretty, we went out on the town. Dinner consisted of delicious grilled scallops, and we went to the Noraebang (singing room) afterwards with Pam's yuppie (but very cool and friendly) friends. Later that night, we sat on the beach and witnessed the most spectacular fireworks show I had ever witnessed. It was a fun day, but taxing. We both decided the next day to skip the rest of the weekend, going our seperate ways to Seoul and Suwon. I really liked the beach, the mud, and the scallops, but was a little disenchanted with the crowd.
So I decided to go back the next weekend.

The following Saturday was a completely different scene. Yes, it was packed. Only this timed it was crowded with Koreans, with virtually no foreignors. I have to admit that I enjoyed the atmosphere much more the second time. For starters, I was able to sit in a comfortable seat on the train ride down. It helps to not arrive in a bad mood. Sacha made the trip with me, and Gina agreed to meet us down there. We spent the entire day relaxing on the beach, and taking the occasional swim. We were joined by a friendly Russian stranger named George, who was wearing a very sexy speedo. He was a nice fellow, though, and I think he may start dating Gina. (She's going to read this and I'll hear about that comment, no doubt.) I should give her credit for taking this photo. It really captures the essence of our relaxing and fun afternoon--too bad she's not in it. After saying goodbye to George, we cleaned up at a fabulous (I wouldn't normally use that word, but it's apt in this case) sauna. Then we proceeded to eat... what else?: Grilled scallops. They were just as tasty as the week before and Sacha and Gina were as impressed as I had been. I'm going back to this beach soon, as it is a great place to chill. I will probably go back tomorrow, if it isn't dumping rain.

Rain, rain, go away!

2006-07-18T07:22:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I went to the west coast and enjoyed the mud festival (more on that when I get the pictures). While I was there, something really strange happened: An entire day passed by without any rain!! Of course, I heard that it poured buckets back here in Suwon, but that's to be expected. I cut the weekend short the following day, as it started pouring.

While I'm gathering my photos from the beach, I'd like to take this opportunity to formally complain about the weather. I'm not exaggerating when I say it has been raining for a month straight. It has rained at least 12 straight days here, and I'm talking about pouring rain. Sure, there are a few misty respites throughout the course of the day, but I honestly haven't seen the sun in three weeks. Another week of this and I'm going to start building an ark.

Now, I understand that it's sweltering back home (and if you have a blog, you're welcome to formally complain about that). For crying out loud, though... it's July!!! What kind of summer is this? Hey guess what everybody?: it's pouring outside right now--absolutely dumping rain. I'm reminded of the Vietnam scene in Forrest Gump where he relates the way the rain continues for months and he experiences every kind of rain. I feel you, Forrest.

While it was kind of a novelty when it rained through the entire month of June, it's really getting old now. For the past two weeks I've had students complaining about the rain on a daily basis. I tell them that it rains every day, and there's nothing we can do about it, so there's no need to complain. However, I'm starting to break down and complain myself. Today, when a student complained about the rain, I responded by saying: "I'm with you, this is ridiculous!". Then I walked to the window and called out to the sky: "QUIT!!! Quit raining! It's July! Where is the sun??!!". Nothing happened, though, and it continued to pour to a gloomy grey backdrop.

I'm hoping it will let up by this weekend, but I'm certainly not counting on it. This stuff has to let up some time. It can't rain forever... can it?

Farewell, dear Zizou

2006-07-07T04:56:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody!! Here are a couple of pictures from Sokcho Beach, which is where I went last weekend with some friends. It was cool and rainy all weekend, which was kind of a bummer. Pictured in the group are Barb, Gina, Steph, Bryan, and Andrew. You can also spot Pam in the distance pondering life. In the other picture, I wanted to capture the horizon, but got the bonus of capturing a profile of Gina's mug. The weekend was fun, and I wanted to show these pictures. However, the pictures are completely unrelated to the subject of today's entry.

Of course, I'm going to talk about the World Cup. While I had a great month, I'm happy it's over so I can go back to having some semblance of normalcy. With so many 4am games to watch, the last four weeks have been physically grueling, so this week I'm picking up the pieces and recovering. I'm also devoting some much needed attention to the blog, as I will make up for the lost time.

On Saturday evening, someone asked me who I was rooting for to win the final, to which I replied: "France." Why France?? One reason only: Zinedine Zidane. I told my friend that I was pulling for Zizou as he was retiring after the cup and that I had always admired the dignity and class he displayed as much as his phenomenal skill. I had told Bryan the weekend before (when we watched a masterful Zidane lead Les Bleus past the juggernaut Brazilians) that watching an in-form Zizou play would be like watching Picasso paint. He displays a brand of unique genius, grace, and artistry that only comes along once in a generation.

As I watched the final at Hoki's last night, with my Australian friend Sacha, I told him that I had felt a little sad watching a brilliant Zidane play against Portugal with the knowledge that it be no more after the final. As I watched the game, I was thinking of all the superlatives I would use in this entry. I thought of the time earlier this year when I watched a skills competition involving many star European players. One of the competitions was 30 meter free kicks, which was when an interesting and poignant moment occurred. While Zizou was lined up to take his kick, a young boy slipped past security and ran on to the field and up to the star player just to touch him. Zidane didn't walk off and leave the boy to security. Instead he put his arm around the boy and talked to him, which will undoubtedly be a story the boy tells the rest of his life. I felt that moment was emblematic of the sincerity and class that I've always seen from this athlete.

As the game went on, I was shaking my head in awe of the transcendent first touch of this truly special player. After he nearly de-pantsed the greatest goalie in the world on a feather-light penalty kick that kissed the post as it crossed the goal line, I remarked to Sacha that I admired the manner in which this man celebrates his goals. I'd never seen him pull his shirt over his head, or run to the corner flag tugging his jersey. He simply raised one arm, then turned around and jogged back to the half line. It's like when the NFL's great Barry Sanders would hand the ball to the referee non-chalantly after scoring a dazzling touchdown--soft-spoken greatness.

I had many of these kinds of thoughts and sentiments as the game went into overtime, with Zidane still playing with fire and his unique skill. And then... it happened. I'm certain everyone knows what I'm talking about without my having to re-cap the incident here. I'll just say this much: It made me think of a very classy player back home named Andy Stann. (The few people who get that will find it hilarious.) While I was very disappointed with and bewildered by Zizou's incident, it made me realize that he is human. For as cool as he is 98 percent of the time, occasionally the great Zidane has lost his head; and boy, did he ever lose it in the final!

I don't believe this incident cost France the final, but it would be a shame if this is what Z.Z. is remembered for. Personally, I'll remember him for the '98 final rather than this one. The real reason for France's losing the game was a cruel jinx perpetrated by yours truly. As David Trezeguet stepped up to the spot during penalty kicks, I turned to Sacha and announced: "He's going to hit the post." The rest, as they say, is history.

Oh well. At least I can say I'm happy for Salvatore and his brother Vincenzo back in St. Louis. Congratulations, fellas.

Red Fever

2006-06-20T04:19:00.000-07:00

Wow, I can't even begin to tell you how out of it I have been for the last week. I have turned into a total zombie and this week offers no reprise. There have been three soccer games on every night, and they don't start until ten. On no less than five occasions (at least that many) in the last 8 days I've stayed up the entire evening watching the World Cup.

Here are some of my partners in crime. This has been alot of fun, as this group has gotten together most nights for the action. With all of the energy and excitement in this country, even the most disinterested of soccer fans have found themselves caught up in the wave. This atmosphere is a soccer fan's fondest dream, however we pay the heavy price of a total lack of sleep and vampire-like existence. It's only one month, though, and it only happens once every four years. As for where I am, this only happens once in a lifetime.

This is the spot where it all began, one week ago last Friday, and it's been a storm ever since. On this occasion we were enthralled with the brilliant opener between the Germans and Costa Rica. The match featured six goals, including the brilliant 30 yard strike from Torsten Frings to ice the victory. We knew from the very beginning this had the makings of something special. The next night we followed this great game up with a bored viewing of a stinker between England and Paraguay, followed by a scoreless tie between Sweden and Trinidad. At least the 4am game didn't disappoint--Argentina took care of a very game Ivory Coast side 2-1. Speaking of Argentina, I just have to say a resounding "WOW!" after watching their match against Serbia-Montenegro. Who's going to beat this team??

One great pleasure so far has been rooting for the home team. The Koreans are absolutely bonkers for their national team. We watched their first game against Togo at Mansuk Park, where there were tens of thousands of glowing red horns (the teams nickname is the red devils, which I believe spawned from a vacuum cleaner). This scene was unbelievable, and undoubtedly the coolest venue that I've ever witnessed for a televised soccer game. There were fireworks, chanting, and singing, and the entire crowd was totally into the game from opening kickoff on. When Korea scored to level the game at 1-1, the place went berserk, but in a family-like way rather than a riotesque manner. After they scored the go ahead goal, I found myself hugging and dancing with total Korean strangers. They were absolutely thrilled to see us whities cheering their side so fervently.

Two nights ago, we came back to this very spot to watch one of the great surprises of the cup thusfar, a 1-1 draw with France. This was a really lopsided game, and the stars aligned perfectly for the devils to sneak away with a point. From the onset, it looked to be a rout, with Thierry Henry scoring just a few minutes into the match. However, despite their domination in possession and visibly showing substantially superior skill and class, the French couldn't muster another goal, allowing Korea to hang around. And I digress for a moment. It is my belief that the French coach should have been fired after their first two games, but it won't happen. When I see a side with this much talent, and this little chemistry, I have to lay the blame on the manager. These guys don't seem like they're having any fun, and look very tight. However, despite their lackluster play, they will advance with a win over Togo--they may just be a sleeping giant. Back to the Korea game, when Park Ji-Sung (the greatest hero in all the land, even before the goal) equalized 80 minutes into the game, this country went nuts! I should mention that this game started at 4am, and the park was packed.

As for other impressions of the cup so far, I've really enjoyed watching the Australian side, who gave Brazil a good match. I'm anxiously awaiting their next match against Croatia--could be a showstopper. I'm happy that the U.S. got a fine result (1-1) against Italy, although their goal was weak. But hey, we've got a chance to advance... I just hope we have a strong showing against Ghana. Tonight I'm watching my favorites, the Germans take on Ecuador, who is a hot team right now. This will be a good measuring stick game for the German side. I think England and Brazil are very scary in that they have looked incohesive and sluggish in group play yet have won all their games and cruised to the second round. If these two teams gel (and Ronaldo gets his fat butt either in shape or on the bench), look out. While alot of people have hyped Spain, I just don't trust them. I think the team to beat right now is Argentina, who have looked superb in their first two matches. I can't wait to see them square off against a very good Dutch side, which comes on at 4am, of course. Happy viewing everyone!! This is going to be a great month!

The Men, the Myth, the Legend

2006-06-04T22:58:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody! Sorry about the lack of entries over the last week or so. I felt that the last one was so poignant that it needed time to be properly digested... heh, heh. Actually, as my brother said, when there is a slow time in between a journal entry, it's called a "blag".

Okay, I'm done with the puns for a while. I did need to come up with some material for the latest entry, so I went back to the well and decided to talk about soccer. World cup fever is in overdrive right now. These pictures were taken last Wednesday at Yongin University, which has a wonderful soccer field. I brought my biggest (read: only) fan out to the game, and proceeded to score no goals or have no assists for the first time in Korea... figures. Actually, Bryan came out with Pam, but isn't pictured. He was every bit as enthralled and entertained (read: drunk) as Pam.

I've been putting off doing this entry for a while as I've been trying to get hold of our team pictures (our team name is FC Legend)--to no avail. So I had Pam take some and also took some for myself. If I ever get our team picture where I have long, flowing locks, I'll surely post it. For now, however, here's what you get. On this occasion we didn't play very well, but we had fun, and we all went out to eat afterward.

Why is it that every time I go out to eat with Koreans I feel as if I'm in the banquet scene from "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom"? Chilled monkey brains, anyone? This time dinner consisted of live fish, silkworm larvae (actually grosser than it sounds), and live octopus. I ordered the lasagna, but it never arrived. Live octopus is fun in that it squirms and fights for dear life as you try to pry it away from the plate with chopsticks. Then you dip the squirmy little guy into some wasabi, pop it into your mouth, and chew away. The only way to tolerate food like this is to take it with alot of soju. There were many bottles consumed by this crowd, and a good time was had by all.

Lastly I have a good picture of myself and two of my Korean buddies, but won't be able to access it until Thursday. Consider this a work in progress, but I wanted to get something out there to appease my faithful readers. Thank you to all who sent e-mails saying "What's up with the blag?" It's nice to know that people are reading. Check this entry again Thursday, as it will have more pics. (edit) And here you have it a week and one half later, Jung, myself, and Ki Hong.

Runch time

2006-05-09T06:15:00.000-07:00

Here we are last Tuesday after soccer volleyball. Every Tuesday morning I get together with my Korean friends and Sacha, and we play soccer in the park. They are a real friendly group of guys and we always get lunch together afterwards. A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that I 'd be curious to try a certain Korean reliracy, er, delicacy. They said: "Okay. Next Tuesday." I had to open my big mouth.

I am a man of my word. Last Tuesday after kicking in the bark, I mean, park, we went to lunch to seek out this certain food. The soup was peppery and the meat was not too ruff, excuse me, tough. It didn't taste like pork, chicken, or beef, but I didn't care because I was enjoying our little bow wow, oops, pow wow.

I'm not sure what was in that soup, but I found it odd that I peed on a hydrant on my way home. Then something unusual happened later that afternoon, when I went into a rage and attacked the mailman. I had to be restrained by three other teachers. Later that evening, when I had an itch behind my ear, I found myself scratching it with my toes instead of my fingers, which drew some strange looks from my students.

I felt better the next day--I must have gotten whatever it was out of my system. I'm glad I had lunch with the guys the day before, but I'm pretty sure I'm not eating whatever I ate again. At least I tried it, which is more than I can say for Sacha, who in a near literal sense chickened out (He ate chicken soup, in case the pun escaped barooooooyou.). Below is a picture of the boys, just in case you don't believe me. Sacha will forever be my witness.

A little Korean culture

2006-05-09T05:30:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I took a trip to the Korean folk village with Sacha. It is a historic site loaded with museums, shows, restaurants, beautiful scenery, and Korean heritage. While this kind of stuff doesn't do a whole lot for me personally, I did get some nice photos that I wanted to share.

I couldn't tell you who the man in the boat is, but I'm fairly certain he's Korean. Don't ask me what this river is called, but it certainly looks nice.

This is a traditional Korean folk band. Wearing colorful traditional outfits, these talented musicians bang their drums proudly while dancing in unison. A handful of them are very acrobatic, doing sideways karate flips while the band plays. Note the tassles on their heads. They swing these things around while they play and dance, also in unison. This was actually the second concert of the sort I had seen this week, and I'm beginning to hear the loud, whiny sounding horn in my sleep. I've thought about purchasing one to practice on in my room, just to aggravate Buddy and Shannon.

These performers were very entertaining and talented. They got a lot of air on this teeter-totter type apparatus. While I was thoroughly entertained by this show, I hoped to learn more about the nature of the performance. Therefore I looked around for clues...

Ahhhh, I see. Well this makes everything clear to me. Signs like this are everywhere in Korea. As an English teacher, I have to cringe; yet I find signs like this really funny. I see stuff like this all of the time. Last weekend while in Seoul I was in a western restaurant called "Texas", watching Man U. and Chelsea play I might add. (My sympathy goes out to the legions of England supporters who watched their golden ticket Wayne Rooney break his foot six weeks before the world cup) Anyway, this restaurant had a cocktail called a Jack and Cock. I wonder what that is??? Perhaps it's like a rum and cock, only with Jack.

I should mention that we met up with a couple of lovely women from Seoul. Pictured here are Shannon from New Zealand and her friend... I forget her name (I think she's Canadian by way of Chile.). Just kidding, Pam, I know you're going to read this and call me a jackass. These fine ladies met us here and later we had delicious Kalbi. There's a place in Na Mun that has the best Dwen Jang Jiggae (spelling is butchered, but most of my readers will have better luck with this than if I would have typed it in Korean). DJJ is a bean curd soup that smells like feet. It sure is delicious, though. Sacha didn't make it for dinner, but he enjoyed spending the afternoon with us.

Anyway, that was how I spent my holiday Friday. Stay tuned as I will post again very soon to tell about my lunch today. I've eaten some strange stuff in Korea, but this was by far the funkiest thing I've ever eaten--My apologies to Leia and Murray back home. For now, here is one more picture of a sight at the folk village. It's not overwhelmingly beautiful or anything, but it beats a sharp stick in the eye.

Chak Gu!

2006-04-28T06:41:00.000-07:00

First off, I have to apologize for my inability to post a picture with the last entry. I brought my camera to class Wednesday night in hopes of getting a picture and Isabel wasn't there. Isabel is the chief architect behind my latest name change, so I couldn't post a picture without her. I brought my camera to class again Friday evening, but Terry and Stella were absent. We have no class Monday, so I won't be able to get a picture until next Wednesday--if everyone is there. In the meantime...

Meet my chak gu buddies. Pictured is Ho Ki, Sacha, Jung Gu, and some strange fellow with so-so skills. We have been playing soccer volleyball in this park every Tuesday morning. There are four other fellas (all Korean) that play with us, and we always go out to lunch together afterward. I was introduced to this group by my friend Ho Ki, and got Sacha involved. Sacha is my neighbor Shannon's boyfriend from Australia--I felt really tall until he came along. Sacha and I have also been playing pool every Thursday night, which is an activity I was sorely missing.

The way this game works is we tie a tennis net up to a motorcycle and a scooter and play four on four. Each team is allowed three bounces and three touches, but only one touch at a time (no juggling). We start at 8:30 and usually play until 11 or so. Eating together afterwards is a real joy, and I've tried some interesting food. We had a Korean chicken stew last week called Sam Jae Tang that was to die for. Man, did that ever hit the spot! Next week we're trying a certain Korean specialty (except for Sacha and Ho Ki, who won't eat it) which is best eaten when it starts to get warm outside. I don't want to give anything away, but I'll give you a hint: The english word for it rhymes with blog.

This has been good practice for Saturday's games and the comraderie is priceless. Speaking of Saturdays, I'm supposed to get our team picture this weekend, so I'll post that as soon as I get it. In the meantime, I want to wish my Rover and Steinclub brothers back home a healthy and productive season. Miss ya, bhoys.

My latest identity crisis

2006-04-24T05:31:00.001-07:00

Many of my loyal readers back home (all 4 of them) have known me for a long time by a name other than my given Christian name. This duality often caused confusion, particularly when I decided I wanted to be called by my real name "Christopher". I had accepted my nickname "Chuck" or "Chuckie" for a long time due to the fact that "Chris" is so common. After all, at one point I had a roommate and brother-in-law who shared the same name. People with the name "Chris" usually end up with either a nickname (such as "O" or "Chuck"), or get called by their last name. My brother-in-law was called by his first and last name blended together as one: "Chrisstevens".

About a year or so ago, I decided to end this insanity and embraced my full name "Christopher". Many of those close to me had a hard time with the change and called me "Chu-Christopher". As if my identity weren't confusing enough to me and those around me, I've now adopted a new name.

The name was given to me by my 8:00 junior high kids (picture to be posted Wednesday). The girls in the class have been teaching me the Korean alphabet (and doing a good job at that) and decided they wanted to give me a Korean name. We spent last week in careful deliberation, trying to decide the name that suited me best. I should add that the boys in the class were no help whatsoever. Every time they offered a name, they would start snickering, which gave me the sinking feeling they were naming me after some clown. The girls, however, picked a winner, and I embraced it.

My name is Kang Ha-Nul. 강 하 늘

The name is pronounced kahng hah nuhl, and it means "Strong Sky". Tough and pretty, I felt this suited me to a T. Kang is my last name, which comes first in Korea. My short name is Ha-Nul, or Sky. I don't wish to be called "Sky". However, I will accept any attempt to acknowledge me by the Korean translation "Ha-Nul". I can write this name in Hangul and have convinced my soccer volleyball buddies to call me by my Korean name. (Oh yeah, I started playing soccer volleyball last week.) I'll still be "Chris" or "Christopher" to some people, and to others still I'll be "Chuck" or "Chuckie". Yet to a new generation of friends I will be known as "Kang Ha-Nul", and I'm so confused at this point that I'm going to lay down now. I can't say I'll start going by my given middle name any time soon.

A little juvenile humor to tie us over.

2006-04-15T00:22:00.000-07:00

I don't have much material to use today, but I heard something last night that cracked me up. I was with a couple of fellow English teachers Brian and Gina (who are pictured on "One Big Happy Family") at the local watering hole "Tok's", which is owned by our friend Hoki.

Brian and Gina work together at a high school, which is a totally different working experience from what I'm used to. They have an average of forty students per class and do their own lesson planning. No thanks, I'll take my laid back hogwan gig, although they do get a ton of vacation time.

Anyway, the whole point of all this is a name that was dropped in our conversation last night. Brian was talking about one of his students whose name is, get this: "Bum suk". "Suk" is pronounced as "suck". "Bum Suk", hee, hee, hee. Poor guy... I keep thinking of that and giggling. It reminds me of the car dealer in Columbia whose name is Richard Head, or a soccer player in the German Bundesliga whose name is, kid you not: "Harry Cock". Neither one of these names can match the subtlety and hilarity of Brian's favorite Bum Suk. I don't know if anyone else will find this funny, but I'm laughing as I type.

Sorry, I'll publish something meaningful soon, but in the meantime I hope everyone enjoys this account of one Bum Suk.

Technical difficulties

2006-04-13T00:57:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody! I published a new entry this week and for some reason it posted below the previous entry. Simply scroll down for the latest installment. Enjoy!

Ow! Hot tub!

2006-03-31T23:21:00.000-08:00

I discovered a cool activity this week unlike anything I've done so far. This is a very relaxing thing to do and I'm sure it will become a weekly ritual. I don't have any pictures to show, and be very thankful for that. While this is a Korean thing to do and is worth an entry, again, be very thankful there are no pictures.

Suspense killing you? Alright, I'll alleviate your tension by relating the method for alleviating my own. Thursday night after class I decided to take a trip down the street to the Jinjo Bang. "Bang" (pronounced closer to bong than bang) is the Korean word for "room", as in DVD Bang, PC Bang, and Norae (song) Bang. I don't know what "jinjo" means, nor am I sure I even spelled it properly. However, I will tell what it is.

The jinjo bang is a sauna, or bathhouse, which is very popular among Koreans. It's a very relaxing place, albeit a bit scary at first. It costs 6,000 won (about 6 bucks) per visit and is well worth it. There are separate men and women only areas, along with a community area. On check-in, I receive shorts and a t-shirt, and a locker key. Before I get into specifics, I have to say that the first thing I saw when I walked into the locker room was a buck-naked Korean dude bending over. I believe my response was "HYELLO!!". After getting dressed and regaining my vision, I walked downstairs to the community area. This area has several different rooms of varying temperatures, so I sat in the hot room and got a good sweat. On this floor one can also get a massage, get on a computer, buy a snack, watch tv, and basically relax in any desired fashion.

After getting a nice sweat, I went back upstairs to the locker room and checked out the hot tub, shower room. I must say that there was a virtual plethora of bare Korean butts in this room. There also, however, is a variety of pools and hot tubs, combined with steam rooms and saunas. I ditched my clothes and took a bold step into a room full of naked Korean dudes. My first impulse was to grab a wet towel and start snapping away at unsuspecting victims, but I didn't think it would go over very well.

While it might seem like a very self-conscious and uncomfortable situation, nothing could be further from the truth. No one bothered me or gawked (even though I was quite intimidating...wink, wink), and everyone seemed completely comfortable in their nakedness. I actually felt invisible--since everyone is naked, they pretty much avert their eyes. Believe me, I was averting mine.

Feeling comfortable enough to make my way around the room, I spent equal parts time in the hot tubs, whirlpools, hot rooms, and cold pools. There is a pool that is really, really cold. It's quite invigorating to hop into this pool after sitting in the really hot one. I have to hand it to the Koreans on this one: They know how to chill. These saunas are a welcome respite for many people who work insane hours, as well as for spoiled, lazy English teachers. I can't adequately explain how great my body felt after this, but I can tell you that I've been back since. I went after soccer this morning, and this time I skipped the community floor and went straight to a shower, hot tub, and steam room treatment. Ahhhhh, that's what I'm talking about. (Cameras not allowed.)

When in doubt, bribe them.

2006-03-25T21:14:00.000-08:00

Sometimes a certain class can be a real handful. This one was beginning to put me over the edge until I took charge of things. While I put my foot down, I also gave them incentive to do well. I bribed them with a pizza party, which became the proverbial carrot at the end of the stick. It's amazing how well it works.

First to introduce the girls from left to right: We have Aida, Isabel, Emily, and Ann. The girls were never the problem, which is usually the case. Aida, Isabel, and Emily were in my winter break phonics class, and I'm very pleased to say they're the best readers in the class. The phonics classes went so well that I have taken the same phonetic principles into my regular classes. The phonics students do kind of roll their eyes when I drill vowels (short and long sounds) due to the fact that they spent the first ten minutes of every phonics class doing the same drills. However, there's no denying the results. They've also been a very positive influence on Ann, whose reading has improved markedly. I'm very happy with Ann's progress, and I always enjoy the left side of the classroom.

The right side, on the other hand. Oh boy, oh boy. Or perhaps I should say "Oh boys, oh boys.". Left to right, we have: Alfred, Buzz, Brian, Harry, and Paul. I ended up threatening lives on more than one occasion, but they managed to stay alive and somehow advance. Alfred is actually a rock. He's like my Jay Novacek (glory days Dallas Cowboys reference)--the go-to guy. He is adept at coming through in the clutch. The rest of the gang, however... WOW! Buzz is a classic goofball, which I wouldn't mind if he were goofing off in the English language. I whipped him into shape pretty quickly though. I made it clear to the class that they would only get a pizza party if they received enough points, and I would take off points every time someone (ahem, Buzz) broke the rules or made me angry. This works really well because the kids police each other. They call each other out for speaking Korean and the students know that they are letting the whole class down if they step out of line. The other boys, Brian, Harry, and Paul... well, I'll just say that their attendance is good. Harry does crack me up every class when he spontaneously announces: "My name is Harry!". Brian has a different idiosyncracy. Every time I call on him, which is always a complete surprise which shakes him from his netherworld, he responds with: "I'm here.". Then I will say something along the lines of: "Thanks, Brian. I got that. Now read page 41 before I get angry!".

I have to give these kids credit: They stepped up and really improved when their pizza was on the line. They've actually turned into a really fun class for me. I no longer dread teaching them, which is nice. Also, they've become alot of fun. I taught them a little tune today called "Swinging the Alphabet". Many of you may not know the reference, but the few that do will find this very funny. The song goes like this: "B, a, bay. B, e, Bee. B, i, bickibie. B, o, bo. Bickibie, bo, b, u, bu, bickibie bo bu." After, we move on to C, then D and so on, continuing the same pattern. Let me tell you, if you think it's funny when the Howard brothers and Mr. Fine sing it, you should hear it out of the mouths of 10-12 year old Korean kids. Freakin' hilarious!

So this is how some classes evolve. What was once my most dreaded class is now one of my favorites. And all it took was a couple of pizzas.

Rediscovering my passion

2006-03-25T20:13:00.000-08:00

Not drinking has its perks. Yeah, it's been a little on the slow side at night, but the days have been much better: particularily Saturdays. Yesterday I woke up at 6am and met my friend Ho Ki for soccer. We took a cab across town to the field where we played our last game way back in November. I was a little out of shape, but I felt better than I thought I would. I was afraid my touch would have abandoned me over the winter, but it wasn't so bad. Luckily, I'm bigger than most of my opponents, so I can just run people over or shove them out of my way. I was nice enough, though, and they invited me to join their spring team. We're getting uni's and everything starting next weekend.

The nice thing about playing so early is that I am done by 9 and have the entire day ahead of me. Being so accustomed to sleeping my Saturdays away, this is a nice turn. I thought about skipping town, but wasn't sure where to go. I decided to walk up to Suwon Station to get lunch and think about it. I ate some sushi and decided to hike around Suwon. After all, it was a gorgeous day and I still hadn't walked around the legendary wall. Pictured here is the main strip across from the station. There are restaurants and shops galore. I usually come up here on Saturday afternoons and hit baseballs in the batting cage.

Today, however, I decided to wander further down the strip, towards the mountain where the wall is. It was a fair walk, and you can see a totally different view of Suwon Station in this picture. I should note that since I hadn't played soccer in a while, that I was quite sore from the morning match. Walking up the mountain was quite a chore, but it was worthwhile to see the city from a new angle.

I continued up the mountain to the wall. The wall is Suwon's claim to fame. It was built in 1782 and fully restored in the last decade. The wall goes completely around Pal-dal San (a mountain), through the heart of the city. I walked all the way to the top of this mountain, following the wall. The vistas were pleasant, and it was great exercise. I was a little gimpy, but pressed on all the way to Na-mun (the north gate). Na-mun is a cool market area which is a shopper's haven. I decided to cut short the wall hike and walk around this area. This was the second time in the last week I had been to Na-mun. Last sunday I had Italian food there with some friends and watched "War of the Worlds" at a DVD bang. Let me tell you, if you think the hill in St. Louis has authentic Italian food, then you should try Italian in Suwon. I had a risotto which was a far cry from what my sister would make, but was good none-the-less. For me, it's nice to have something other than Korean food every once in a while. I like Korean food, but need variety.

Anyway, I wasn't hungry on this occasion, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for. I popped into a couple of stores, but didn't buy anything. At this point, I was just wandering around aimlessly, not knowing any purpose or destination. I was just following my nose, wondering where it might lead...

What do you know? I ended up at Suwon Stadium, home of the professional Blue Wings. This is an adjacent practice field, which had me drooling. The field I played on in the morning was a big, unmarked sand park with goals. which is typical. The pictured field is reminiscent of the great Soccer Park facilities in Fenton, Mo. The talent was also a step up from the morning group. I was licking my chops, thinking: "This is where I want to play!". I started shooting the breeze with one of the players on the sideline, who luckily spoke English. I asked him about the league and how I might be able to play on this field. I told him if his team ever need a player, I would be more than willing to fill in. He said he would ask his captain. So at halftime, he talked to the captain and waved me over. The captain said: "Can you play now?". Even though I was exhausted and wearing blue jeans and tennis shoes, I said: "Sure!". They put me up top and I played for an hour (This was just a scrimmage.) I saw it as an audition, so I ran as hard as I could. I ended up with a pair of assists, and they invited me to play in their league, starting in late April. They also asked my opinion on jerseys, if I preferred the blue short sleeve Nike jerseys, or the long sleeve zebra striped kits. I said: "Go with the Juventus shirts, no doubt!". Some were awestruck that an American picked up the Juventus connection.

So there we have it. After a winter of not playing soccer, I picked up with two teams in one day. Now my Saturdays will be filled with morning and afternoon soccer, and I couldn't be happier with the development. I'm also getting some really cool gear out of the deal. I should note, however, that I can hardly move today. My entire body is sore, moreso than it's been in a long time. I haven't been this worn out since I got lost in the jungle. I had to pry myself out of bed this morning, and it was painful to do so. After being idle for so long, I guess I could have expected this. I'm fully back in the swing now, though, and shoud be fit in a couple of weeks.

One big happy family

2006-03-20T04:23:00.000-08:00

Last Friday, for those not in the know, was St. Patrick's Day. Not as if we need an excuse to get together and party, but St. Patty always seems to bring out the festive spirit. I thought it would be a good idea to capture some of my homies on camera, just to let the folks back home know that my friends aren't imaginary.

This party started in Cain's apartment, and ended up in a western pub called the Wa Bar. It's really nothing like the pubs back home, but it does attract us whities nonetheless. This is a pretty typical scene, with the players from left to right being Laura, Georgina, Gina, Barb, Andrew, Bryan, Marie (back), and Steph. Everyone in the picture is a teacher, and most of them are from Canada. The expat community here has a real university feel to it. We all get along well and it's always fun to get together and celebrate our white diversity.

Here's a couple of fellow Americans: Bryan and Steph. They were kind enough to put on their best faces for this rare photo op. If Bryan looks like he's a little loopy here, it's because he is. Bryan probably knows more Korean than any other whitie I know. He studied Korean for years before coming, and hangs out with mostly Koreans. He majored in Linguistics, so we get along pretty well. Steph and I get along great in that we are both from the midwest. She's from Oklahoma, so I always enjoy the opportunity to fraternize with a fellow Bible-belter. Steph is also a big Star Wars fan, which leaves us plenty to talk about. Marie is in the background. I have gotten in the habit of doing movie nights with Marie and friends on Sunday evenings lately, which is a nice way to end the weekends.
Here are a couple of Canadians named Francis and Laura. This is how small-town Canucks pose for pictures. These gals were introduced to our group through Cain, who ran into them on the street in Seoul. It's amazing how that happens to Canadians over here. These girls grew up in the same town as Cain and happened into him in Korea. I've seen this kind of thing happen many times in my brief stay. I seriously doubt I'll ever run into anyone from back home here, but I've learned it really is a small world after all.

The next photo is of the perpetrater of this party, Cain. Cain is from Canada, big shock, but his parents are both from Ireland. Therefore he has a Canadian-Irish accent, which is a linguistic enigma. Cain's good people. Cheers! Also in the picture is Barb and the top of Georgina's head. Too bad I didn't get a better picture of these two, as they are both lovely and kind, not to mention really cool.

This last photo is of another fellow American, Gina and her bottle of soju. She decided to pose with some strange looking fellow--I'm not sure who this guy is. He was kind of odd in that he was drinking bottled water while everyone else was drinking wine, Guiness, or soju. The explanation was something about an outrageous lent proposition. I don't know, every party has its crazies. He had a good time, though, and seemed to really enjoy everyones' company.

Lost in translation

2006-03-10T04:40:00.000-08:00

It's getting warmer. The weather is finally starting to turn towards the better and I couldn't be happier about it. I've been told repeatedly that I came to Korea at the worst possible time--at the very beginning of winter. The only Korea I know is a bitter cold one, so I'm especially thrilled about the upcoming season. All accounts point toward the spring being extremely beautiful, both climate-wise and scenery-wise. What does this mean to you, you ask? Pictures of cherry blossoms, and festivals will certainly happen and I will also be more motivated to get out and do something.

In the meantime, I'd like to introduce my new class. They are as big a pain in the butt as they are cute, which as you can see from the picture is considerate. From the back left, clockwise we have Sally, Henry (back of his head), Lina, Sophia, Jayden (back of head), Rocky, Rosa, Calvin, Isabel, and Andrew. Oh my goodness, is this ever chaotic!! There are only two kids in the class with any reading ability and their ability to comprehend English is minimal at best. Perhaps I would do alright with a liason, someone who can understand Korean and keep them in line--no such luck. It's just me and the kids, who hardly understand a word I say. I only have these tykes twice a week, but they sap the entire week's resevoir of energy.

I've been on the same page for the last two weeks and probably won't move for a while. What's the sense of going through the book if noone can read it? We have a phonetics lesson every class where I drill vowels and vowel-sounds. Every class I go from A to J, writing three letter words like "bat", "cat", and "jab" on the board, and having them repeat. When they finally get a grasp of this, I'll move on to three letter words with the letter "e" in the middle. Oh boy, oh boy.

We've also been working on simple commands, like "look up", "draw a circle", and "point to the desk". Every time I say "close your book", little Andrew packs his books in his bag and stands by the door. I'll say: "Andrew, we have twenty minutes left! Go back to your seat.", which he hears as: "ooh bloddal dong, ark brack snaggle bog." At least, I might as well be saying that. Last week Andrew said something to me in Korean and gave a slow, deep, reverent bow, which floored me. It may have been the cutest thing I've ever seen. Often the kids will say "Teacher! Teacher!", and when I approach them they whisper something Korean in my hear. I respond by saying: "I have no idea what you just said.", which is like saying "penk algo ism haft nanny". Makes about as much sense to them.

While it is a challenge, I like the idea of having a blank (and I mean freakin' BLANK) slate. I know that sooner or later my phonics lessons will begin to stick and they'll begin reading and speaking. I'll also know that whatever they do pick up will be largely my doing. So when they do learn (and hell or high water, they will) to read, it will be especially gratifying.

Monkey Business

2006-02-28T20:53:00.000-08:00

So, I guess it's time for another post. Hmmmm, what to write about... I don't have any adventures this time, nor do I have any beautiful pictures. For anyone complaining of a let down after Thailand, try flying back to freezing cold Seoul from sunny Bangkok sometime. Life has been good since I came back, but I just haven't done anything particularily noteworthy, nor have I taken any pictures. For the time being, I want to use this forum to get something off my chest. This involves the longest, most overbloated, self-important, and WAY overrated piece of garbage I've ever had the disgust of sitting through. Any guesses? Look at the title of this entry.

If you guessed King Kong, then you are really smart--and handsome (or pretty). I've decided I might be able to pick up readers through blatent flattery, so let me know if it works. If any of you intelligent and sophisticated movie goers have ever sat through King Kong, then your butt is probably as numb as mine. I can't fathom how a studio exec could have watched this monstrosity and not said: "Okay, this is the extended version. Now let's chop 90 minutes off this thing." I've recommended to other people who were curious to see the movie to skip the first hour of the film altogether. Seriously, nothing happens. For some reason, there is a pointless and inane exposition fleshing out one-dimensional characters that we could give a less crap about. By the time the expedition finally reaches Skull Island--an hour into the film--I had forgotten I was watching a movie about a giant monkey. Of course, a movie about a giant monkey should be taken very seriously and every single shot should go on forever just to catch the perfect mood, then it should go on a little longer, and longer still.

The second act is the only semi-interesting part of this movie, and it still goes on way, way too long. There are all kinds of dinosaurs and monsters, which bored the hell out of me. How do you make dinosaurs boring, you ask. I'll tell you how: You take away their weight, so it is really obvious the humans are interacting with a blue screen and not a real animal. There is a stampede scene where dinosaurs are flipping and piling on top of each other and rolling over humans who just run in between them and somehow don't get crushed. Ridiculous. At least this scene was drawn out to fifteen minutes, because it really needed all that time to develop. There is a scene where Kong fights three t-rex's, which had it's cool moments. The problem is this fight drug on far too long (big shock, there). By the end of the fight I was completely disinterested. It was a feeling of looking up from time to time and saying: "Wow, they're still fighting."

Notice I'm complaining about the action sequences dragging on to the point of tedium. There were more action sequences after this that were even less plausible (a kid who had never fired a machine gun shoots giant bugs off of people from point blank range without ever hitting the people) and equally bloated. If the action scenes bored me, then think about the slower moments. This entire movie felt like the last 40 minutes of "Return of the King", where Frodo and Sam gaze wistfully at each other, and then gaze wistfully at each other, and then gaze wistfully at each other some more, and then gaze... you get the point. Throughout King Kong, I was gazing wistfully at my watch. The intimate scenes between Kong and what's her face (the person from the first hour of the film that was supposed to matter) take FOREVER! Hey, P.J., it's a sunset, it's quiet,I GET IT, LET'S MOVE ON. It's as if every single shot is so important that it has to be given enought time to be properly digested. Each scene carries so much resonance, that it must be given its proper attention and careful consideration. Did I mention this movie is about a GIANT MONKEY?!!

I don't know if anyone will agree with me on this rant, and I'm sure the critics don't. Which takes me to the question at hand: How is it that Peter Jackson is above the rules of editing? The rest of the movie making world tries to tell their stories in under two and a half hours,. Sure, there are exceptions and some movies need to be longer (See: The Godfather II), but should a retelling of King Kong be one of them? Somehow, Peter Jackson has hypnotised critics and audiences into thinking his movies are that important. My mission, through this blog, is to wake people from their trances by shaking them and saying: "Wake up!! This is a three hour long movie about a giant gorilla!! This isn't high art, so quit pretending it is!!!" That goes for you, too, Peter "Wistful Gaze" Jackson. Hire an editor, for Pete's sake.

Okay, I feel better now.

The Moral of the Story:

2006-02-22T03:55:00.000-08:00

IT'S GOOD TO KNOW EILEEN!!!

Now is the time when I reveal the nature of the side trip in Nai Thon, which sucked the rest of my cash. Before I left Korea I e-mailed Eileen and told her I was coming to Thailand. For those not in the know, Eileen is the lovely wife of my equally lovely (ahem) friend Chris O. Eileen suggested I get in touch with her parents if I were in Bangkok, and gave me her mom's cell-phone number. In Nai Thon I went to a pc room and got the number from my g-mail account (from a dial-up connection, I might add), and made a phone call to Bangkok. I should note that I was gouged for this transaction.

Eileen's mother answered the phone, and I said: "Hello, ma'am. This is Chris Perlow, a friend of Chris and Eileens--", to which she interjected: "Hi Chucky! When are you coming into Bangkok?". She asked me when my flight arrived, and she told me she would come and pick me up. After an intense end to an extremely physically taxing three days, the idea of staying with Eileen's family was very appealing, and their hospitality exceeded any expectation I might have had.

I was in utter shambles when the good parents' picked me up. I told them the story of what I did, and they were somewhat terrified, but also amused. They fed me when I got back to their beautiful home, and I took the most overdue and gratifying shower of all time. After that, I crashed out in a homey, comfortable, climate-controlled bedroom with a queen-sized bed. To think that 24 hours ago I was thinking I might end up sleeping in the airport.

The next day, after breakfast, Mrs. Chris O's-mother-in-law took me around Bangkok while she ran errands. She was kind enough to take me to an international bank, so I could get cash, and then took me to a historical site. At this point, I regret to say that I dropped the ball--I forgot my camera. Don't worry, you didn't miss much. I was dropped off at the Royal Palace, which is a huge compound full of temples. There's nothing here really worth taking a picture of unless you think that enormous, ornate, gilded, exotic looking buildings are interesting. Unless you're into fastidiously detailed, colorful murals painted up and down every wall in astonishing detail, then you're not missing anything. If you think that a Grand Palace constructed in 1782 that is meant to dwarf the aforementioned temples in beauty and stature is something to look at, you might be a little sore for my neglecting to bring my camera along. Otherwise, there really wasn't too much to look at--really. (note: sarcasm) If I were to guess what the Thai word for temple is, I would say: "bling-bling". There is gold everywhere in these places. For better pictures than the ones I might have taken plus info: http//www.palaces.thai.net

After this, we had lunch, which was extremely delicious. The parents' were thrilled that I was willing to try Thai food. They told me about westerners who visit Bangkok on business who insist on eating McDonalds and won't even try Thai food. I feel pity for people who go through their lives in this manner. If Thai food isn't my favorite thing to eat, it's really darn close. After lunch we went back to the house and I had a wonderful nap. I woke up in enough time to watch "Ohn Bak" (I may have butchered the spelling.) with Eileen's dad. This movie had the most spectacular fight scenes and stunts I had ever seen, and is more than worth checking out.

That evening, we went to dinner before they dropped me off at the airport. The picture below is from our dinner together. Their hospitality and warmth was amazing. They made me feel as if I was staying with family, which is how I will always want to treat my friends, family, and friends of family if I ever have the opportunity. My time in Bangkok could have been miserable, and I'm not sure how much more misery I could have handled. Instead it was a time of pleasant fellowship with a dear friend's wonderful parents. When I said farewell at the airport, I stressed that I couldn't thank them enough for their graciousness, to which they replied by smiling and saying: "It was a pleasure, Chucky. Please come back and see us."

The Final Frontier

2006-02-17T22:08:00.000-08:00

With Nai Thon now in the rear view mirror, now comes the part of the journey that gets really trepiditious. After three days of ignoring advice to avoid the coast, I wasn't the least bit worried about this last lap. For the first time all week, I was told the coast wouldn't be a problem. Oh my, oh my, was that ever lousy advice. The rocks seemed to get bigger, sharper, and steeper the closer I got to the airport. I came to this point, where I had one place to go--up and over. This next cliff pictured is much bigger than it looks in the picture, and I had no way around it. On the bright side, at least I was wearing really uncomfortable sandals, which is what you want for rock climbing. I saw this as the last challenge, as it would surely be better on the other side. Surely it would be better on the other side, right?

After carefully scaling this wall, I came to a point that was impassable. There was a series of cliffs larger than this one, with large valleys of water in between. I had only one option, and that was to go straight up through the mountain and find the road. After getting to the top of the rocks, I had to walk up a steep wooded hill. When I was walking up the rocks, there was never a problem with footing or grip. On this hill, however, I was walking on loose dirt. I found a tentative path up the hill, which consisted of pulling myself up from tree to tree. A couple of times I had to use a root to drag myself to the next tree, which was hard work. It didn't help matters that the pretty green bushes in the picture had sharp prickly leaves.

Finally I got high enough up where the ground was even enough to walk on upright, and I found a path. I followed this path further up the hill, through the jungle. The path eventually dead ended, much like the road earlier that morning. At this point that morning had seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, in a different place. I cut through the thick trees and brush until I found another path, which dead ended again.

For the next few hours I roamed through the jungle like an animal, moving from one path to another--thoroughly lost. I have to mention that it was sweltering underneath these trees, and I was out of water. Following path after path, none of them leading anywhere, I neglected to stop and take pictures. Besides, I never found a good place to sit and pull my camera out of my bag. At one point I nearly walked through a gigantic spider web. I saw this thing at the last second, hit the brakes, and backed up. It was then when I saw the biggest, nastiest looking spider I had ever seen anywhere, zoos and discovery channel included. I wish I'd have taken a picture of this guy, but I was no longer thinking like a tourist. I was rather thinking that I needed to get the hell out of this jungle before it got dark. Thus I didn't stop to rest or take pictures. There was only one option at this point, and that was to keep walking. I was no longer a tourist, and this was no joke. It was now a matter of survival.

As I got deeper into the jungle there was a loud, eerie ringing sound, which sounded like a siren. It would get very loud, and then just stop. I believe this noise came from some type of exotic bird, or locust type creature. I can tell you all this much: It wasn't doing my nerves any favors. This was beginning to get scary. I was thinking to myself: "Great move, Dr. Jones. You've finally done it this time." At my very lowest and thirstiest, I lost concentration for a moment and jammed my arm into a bamboo stick that protruded into the path. After pulling a splinter, or spike, an inch long out of my forearm I considered yelling for help. The problem was two-fold: 1. Who was going to hear me? ( and even if they did they might not understand) 2. It's impolite to raise one's voice in Thai culture and I might offend someone.

At this point crying was not an option so I had to press on. It was getting late in the afternoon and I was really thirsty. After hours of walking up, down, back, forth, and around the jungle (conjuring images of the Blair Witch Project), I heard the sound of my salvation. There was a distant hum that had the distinct sound of road noise, which was like "The Moldau" to my ears. I followed the noise and the path got wider. Soon I found myself on a wide clean path and would have skipped had I the energy. I finally came upon the road and had never been so happy to see pavement. I saw a nice Thai couple and asked them which way was the airport. They said it was about 5km up the road, and I thanked them and began to walk. Then once again, the kindness of strangers prevailed. The man I talked to pulled up next to me on his scooter and offered to give me a lift. I arrived at the airport with three hours to spare, thirsty, sweatty, dirty, hungry, bruised, scratched, and utterly exhausted.

I drank about five gallons of water at the airport and had a tremendous feeling of gratification and accomplishment mixed with a sense of relief that I hadn't felt since I finished my Dickens thesis. I had survived the coast and the jungle. No doubt now--I would make it safely to Bangkok, and then to Seoul. Now only one question lingered: What on Earth was I going to do for 24 hours in Bangkok?

Thursday morning

2006-02-17T21:31:00.001-08:00

Thursday morning I got an early start and decided to follow the road for a while. I wanted to get to Nai Thon quickly, to leave myself some time to lounge around on the beach before I flew back to Bangkok. I followed this lovely road as far as I could, and then it abruptly ended. I've never seen a road that just ended in the middle of nowhere, with no outlet whatsoever. I had no choice but to take the coast again, which served me right for taking the easy path.

The morning hike was muddy. After days of walking on boulders, I was now trudging through soggy deep sand. I made my way to a small village where there were a bunch of locals having a picnic. There was a large group playing soccer to the rhythmic beat of drums. I didn't get close enough to the village to take a decent picture. I thought about stopping and kicking around, but time was not a luxury this day. Besides, the path to the village was hairy, and I was having a hard enough time with the coast. I made a move toward the gathering, but the mud was too deep, so I kept walking. I do really like the idea of playing soccer to drums. I know the Brazilians employ this tactic, and it seems to work pretty well for them. There also was something primally satisfying in hiking past a small exotic village with an exotic beat. It made me feel like a real adventurer.

After getting through the mud I ventured further down the coast and ended up in a completely different atmosphere. I landed on a gorgeous beach resort with palm trees and beautifully manicured gardens. The people staying here were undoubtedly having a much different vacation experience then your narrator. I was tired of sludging and climbing, so I went through the resort to find the road. While I was sweatty, dirty, and haggard, I thought the resort people would turn their noses up at the sight of me. The staff did nothing of the sort. I felt a little sheepish and intrusive, so I told them I was hiking and just wanted to find the road. A very nice young man offered to take me to the road in his golf cart, and I happily accepted. We talked along the way and I told him I was going to Nai Thon beach. He called his mother, the resort manager, and she met us at the front gate. She refused to let me walk, and called her other son and asked him to give me a ride to Nai Thon. She also gave me the name of a contact in Nai Thon who would take me to the airport on a shuttle bus. This was typical of the accomodation and generosity I received all week from the very nice local folks.

I arrived in Nai Thon just after 11:00, with plenty of time to spare. I had a snack and spent the remainder of my cash on a service to be named later. I relaxed a bit and took a swim in the ocean. I asked the local at the restaurant what the hike was like to the airport, and she said: "It's just around that cove. Maybe 45 minutes walk." I could have bummed around on that beach all day and taken the shuttle, but I opted to take the coast and bum around at the beach by the airport instead. After three days of hiking, what was another 45 minutes? I set out after lunch to tackle the last leg of rocky coast. The rest of the afternoon is a different story in itself, and it deserves its own entry. I should probably warn the feint of heart and worrisome that they may want to skip the next chapter all together.

Hump day

2006-02-13T21:48:00.000-08:00

Here I am back in Korea, right smack in the middle of student evaluations... some welcome back present. I've been racking my brain the last couple of days for constructive phrases like "If Johnny's i.q. ever reaches 50, he should sell", and so on and so forth. For now, though, I look at the pictures and go back to a sunnier time two weeks ago this day.

Wednesday was as sunny and bright as the days before, and I set out after breakfast in hope of making it as far as Nai Thon Beach, which is supposedly a stone's throw from the airport. The locals I talked to the night before said there was no way to get there other than taking the road, but hey, the coast had gotten me this far. They had said the same thing two days ago, and here I was over halfway there. The journey consisted of more of the same--mostly passable rocky coast with a few beaches scattered here and there.

I knew this day was crucial in making up enough ground to make it to the airport by Thursday evening, so I walked non-stop until late afternoon. The reward for taking the difficult path was the opportunity to see these incredible vistas, with only the wind and the ocean as background noise. The depth of these panoramas are not adequetely represented in these photos, nor is the sheer beauty. For this shot, in example, I was atop of a petrified lava flow which formed a steep rock hill that towered over the bay. The palm trees on the other side are 50 feet tall, and I'm looking down on them. While getting to the top of this thing took a little work, getting down was as easy as walking down a steep hill, with three foot wide deep crevices every 15 feet. Like I said before, though, the grip on these surfaces is superb. Keeping my footing was not a big challenge. The challenge was to find the safest, most navigable path and keeping my concentration.
After a grueling day of further abuse to my exhausted and beat up feet, I settled on a smaller beach just down the coast from Nai Thon. I asked the locals at the restaurant about the distance to the airport and if they knew Eileen. While they had never met my friend, they did say that the airport was about 10km by road. They also said that the coast was impassable, but I had heard that one before. As I laid on the beach, scoping out the most magnificent sky I had ever seen, I pondered my next day's journey. "Perhaps I should take the road," I thought. "I braved the rocks for two days and made it this far without injury, so I should not press my luck for a third day." I would think about this through the evening, weighing each option. There was a light shower that evening, which passed in less than one hour. After the shower I sat on the beach and watched the most spectacular lightning on the distant horizon. I tried to get a photo of it, but if you've ever tried to capture lightning on camera, you'd know how easy it is. After taking a dozen photos of black sky, I gave up and decided to enjoy the show. I would fall asleep in this spot, on a comfy beach chair. The next morning I would start my trip just after sunrise and the question lingered in my dreams that night: "Will I take the road or the coast tomorrow morning?"

Adventure!

2006-02-09T21:36:00.000-08:00

Two days of bumming around the beach and hanging out in a resort left me feeling a little empty. I know, poor me. After breakfast buffet at the hotel, I decided I needed to get out of the bubble I was in so I packed my bags and set out walking. I had until Thursday to get to the airport, which was about 60km down the coast. So I did what any rational person in my situation would do: I decided to hike. This picture shows a very different view of the main beach from the picture I took day one. Civilization has a totally different look from the outside. Patong Beach is in a cove, and this picture was taken from the outer edge. I didn't know what was on the other side of the cove, but I would soon find out.

The coast was very rocky, and it took some navigating to get from beach to beach. The good thing about the rocks is that they were totally solid, mostly flat, and had great grip--even when wet. Realizing the fact that I was walking up, down, and around boulders by myself with a backpack, a small bag, and sandals which were goring holes in my feet, I thought this might be a little dangerous. But hey, you should all know by now what I live for: It starts with a D and ends with ANGER!! However, I did have the sense to lay down some ground rules. One: Stay low, whenever possible. Try to stay close to the water, so if I fall I don't kill myself. Two: Take the easiest path possible. Never take any unnecessary risks and don't climb anything unless there's no other way. For the most part, it was a safe path, albeit a physically exerting one. Every once in a while, though, I would run into areas like this, where there was nowhere to go but up.

The journey wasn't without rest. After scaling the cliff, which wore me out, I found the road and followed it. Wow, there's a road that runs along the coast--how convenient. I stopped for lunch at a small roadside restaurant and feasted on some ludicrously hot, yet extremely delicious green curry. There have been many beers consumed in my lifetime, but I'm not sure if any one of them were as satisfying as this one. I took a picture of the menu because I felt it was indicative of the service I received all week. Everywhere I went it the nice local people bent over backwards to accomodate my every need and desire. Before I move on, I have to say again that this curry was savagely spicy, and ridiculously tasty.

I walked on the rest of the afternoon, down the coast. The walking was not too treacherous after lunch, and I didn't have to scale any cliffs. My feet were really killing me, though. Speaking of my feet, I have to back up for a moment. When I took the road, the sandals were too uncomfortable to handle, so I put on some socks. I thought of how proud my father would be seeing me walking around in shorts, black socks, and sandals.

Early evening, I arrived at Kamala Beach, which is close to halfway to the airport. I covered alot of ground this day, and it was time to rest. At this spot, my eyes were opened to the effects of the tsunami. While it's easy to stay in resorts and go about like nothing had happened, there are people whose lives have been devastated, and they're still rebuilding. This area was ground zero, and I talked to many of the locals. One person told me that in seven minutes his business, his life, was completely underwater. He said he was lucky he was a strong swimmer. Think about that for a moment. I talked to a nice lady who owns a restaurant. Her and her family run the business from 9am to 11pm every single day...every single day. They lost family members and friends and were now working like hell to pick up the pieces--much like every other person I talked to in this small community. On top of all of this, none of these people had ever met Eileen. Despite this devastation, however, the people were cheerful, friendly, and extremely gracious. For me, a really poignant representation of the spirit of these people was in the construction zone just across the street from the guest house in which I was staying. While the men were working well into the evening, there was music blaring and a large group of children under the newly built structure: Dancing.

Your typical Monday

2006-02-08T04:29:00.000-08:00

Monday morning I woke up bright and early, well, early at least, and took a tour boat out to Phi Phi Islands. This is a chain of islands off the coast of Phuket where the films "The Beach" and "The Man with the Golden Gun" were filmed. The islands were as beautiful as anything I had ever seen and the weather was equally beautiful. The boat ride took about 45 minutes, which entailed sitting on a speed boat with a bunch of tourists--many of them in speedos. I can't say I felt particularly social on this morning, and my feet were absolutely killing me. I had bought a pair of sandals the previous day and proceeded to walk several miles over rocky terrain. The sandals didn't fit well at all, and they gored holes in my tootsies. Thankfully, I didn't need sandals on this day.

This is the island where "The Man with the Golden Gun" was filmed. It is aptly called James Bond Island. See how blue the water is--this is not a product of trick photography nor is it a convenient glare. This must be the best place for swimming in the entire world. There are cliffs like this one one each side, providing shade and scenery. The water is cool, deep, and devoid of fish, creatures, rocks, debris, and man-made structures. The only thing it is not devoid of is tourists like myself. While the pictures are meant to look like I was here by myself, there were actually several other boats full of speedo-clad sight seers. The water was still as pleasant and refreshing as could be, and the sun was radiant.

Here is the final stop on the tour. After having lunch on the resortiest of the islands, we stopped on this small island with a great beach and world-class snorkeling. The tour guide was kind enough to take this photo of yours truly. I had asked him if he knew Eileen, and he had never heard of her. I walked around the far end of the island, away from the crowd, and found a quieter place to snorkel. It paid off, as I was the only person in our group to see a shark. I actually saw two of them, but I didn't get a really close look. As soon as I started swimming towards them, they darted away. I couldn't identify the species, but I'm pretty sure they were either great whites or tiger sharks. They're lucky they swam away, cause I might have killed them with my bare hands. I also saw a huge variety of different colorful fish, which were much less shy than the sharks. I would swim among these things and some of them would swim right up to my face, as if to say: "Hey whitey!". After I got out of the water, I sat on a chair on the beach under an umbrella and drank coconut milk out of a coconut through a straw. This made up for the Pina Colada that caught me off guard the day before.

This is a shot of the back end of the island, where I snorkeled. There was no way around the shore without getting my backpack wet, so I went up and over. It was hard work getting to the top of this thing, but the view made it well worth it. These islands were stunningly beautiful, and the water was the perfect temperature. Something that I took note of on this venture, that I had also noted the day before was the fact that there were no visible signs of the tsunami which devastated this coast just over a year ago. I remarked to one of my fellow tourists on the way back from this venture that if I hadn't known about the tsunami from the news, I would have no idea that this had happened here.

I got back to the motel around six that evening, and I was thoroughly exhausted. My feet were swollen, cut, and bruised, and I was looking forward to a quiet night around the resort. I hung out with some British tourists that evening and kept it very low key. The past two days had been tremendous, yet something was missing. Despite the incredible natural beauty, delicious food, beers, and wonderful service, I had realized that my vacation was sorely lacking one crucial element...

Adventures in Thailand: Sunday

2006-02-07T03:54:00.000-08:00

It snowed all day today. It's cold and gloomy outside and I spent my evening cramming English lessons into uncooperating kids in a noisy classroom. One week ago, I was far, far away from cold and chaos, and now all I have is the photos to remember it by. I spent last week in sunny, beautiful Phuket Island in southern Thailand. I flew into Bangkok Saturday and took the next plane to the island, arriving late Saturday night. I would be in Phuket until Thursday night when I would fly back to Bangkok. I would fly back to Seoul the following night.

Day one was far from adventurous. The above picture pretty much sums up how I spent the first part of the day. This is Patong Beach, and the water really is this blue. This is a touristy place, which is flooded with Europeans. The old fat men in speedo watching is truly world class in this spot. There are also topless women walking up and down the beach, none of them under the age of 45. Still, one could argue that boobs are boobs. I sat in this spot for hours, watching people and the ocean while sipping on beers, soaking up sunshine, and eating fresh fruit. One doesn't need to get up to do any shopping as there are locals walking up and down the beach selling all kinds of stuff.

I could only take so much lazing about, so after lunch I walked down the beach and did some exploring. I walked past the sandy beach to a more rocky area that was inhabited by thousands of mud crabs. As I walked along, I could hear them pinching and snapping all over the place. It sounded as if someone had poured a whole bunch of milk into a gigantic bowl of rice krispies, to wax poetic. The little fella pictured got caught in the open, and had nowhere to hide. We stood there for a couple of minutes and just stared at each other. I think he was curious in that he had never seen an American before. As long as I didn't try to molest him, he didn't move. When I tried to touch him, he snapped at me and scurried away. He's smart, because I probably would have killed him. (You all should know I'm joking as I wouldn't hurt a fly...unless it made me angry)

I walked down the coast a couple of miles or so, playing with the crabs, soaking up the sun, and stopping to gape at the unbelievable scenery. This place is more beautiful than I can put into words. The pictures don't come close to doing it justice, although there will be many nice ones in the days to come. On top of the natural beauty and warm hospitality there is the huge added bonus of eating Thai food every meal. This was the afternoon snack I ate in a beach front restaurant--absolutely delicious. I also ordered a pina colada at this beach side restaurant and the bartender used mix--WTF??? I was expecting fresh pineapple and coconut milk and the bartender pulls out the Mr. and Mrs. T. That would be the last "tropical" drink I would order this week.

Later that evening, after cleaning up at the hotel, I did what any red-blooded whitey would do in my situation--I got cornrows. This photo was taken on my hotel balcony by a staff member. She asked me where I was from and I said: "St. Louis. Say, do you know Eileen?". Oddly enough, she had never heard of her. I went out on the town that evening and had to fight off the Thai women with a stick. Apparently, the cornrows have magical powers. In reality, the women I was beating away with a stick were prostitutes, but it's nice to imagine. The braids would prove to be very practical as the week went on, however, as I didn't have to mess with my hair at all, nor did I have to deal with it getting in my face. That has got to be the manliest thing I've ever written in any of my journals.

I booked a trip to Phi Phi Island the following morning, departing at 7:30. After a night of beers, overt come-ons from desperate women, and a Man U. game (I settled in a pub and watched the live match with a bunch of English hooligans), I cranked up the a/c and went to sleep in my king sized resort bed. Just for good measure, I'll include one more scenic shot, which is what I dreamed about that evening.

It's all about Seoul

2006-02-06T06:06:00.000-08:00

I got back to work today and I still have Thailand on the brain. The vacation was a fantastic adventure in a ludicrously beautiful environment, which I will tell all about very soon. In the meantime I promised a recap of my trip to Seoul Tower, and I won't disappoint. This venture happened two weeks ago, so the details are fuzzy. However, the pictures should help me get through this and I can get on to the really important task of rehashing my holiday on the island.

I went to the tower with my neighbor Pam, and I even included a lovely picture for those of you who thought she was a fictional character. The tower is located on top of a mountain, which has stairs all the way up and a series of different gardens, parks, monuments, and vantage points that seemed to get better and better as we went further up the mountain. The view from the top of the mountain was incredible--we could see all of Seoul, maybe even all of Korea. The panorama behind Pamela is a view seen from about midway up the mount, and the other view is from the top.

You might notice a similarity between these scenic photos and the ones taken from atop of the hogwan. You'll notice a bunch of buildings and sprawl crammed really close together with mountains in between and in the background. This is typical Korean and a microcosm of the country. It is a blend of vastly populated, overcrowded and polluted urban landscape mixed with an affinity and appreciation for nature. For instance, there is this mountain, which has natural wonders and an incredible view, yet is located in the middle of the city and has people walking all over the place.

The third picture is one of yours truly being a goofy poser in front of a monument. The monument is of the inventor of the wheel, I believe. Or perhaps he was some sort of ruler, or emporer, or maybe a soldier...possibly a religious leader or Korean liberator. Maybe I could have taken a moment to read the inscription next to the monument. But what's the point? I would have forgotten it by now anyway. Whatever this guy did, I'm sure it was really neat, and I hope he's happy wherever he is that he is now immortalized in the blog--just in case the statue wasn't enough.

Anyway, this is all old news. For those of you who have suffered through the last week with no new blogs, this is a bonus week. One entry won't possibly do justice to my vacation, so I'm composing a multi-part Thailand series, which will hopefully commence tomorrow. I have many photos and stories to share, so look forward to having your socks knocked off, or something like that.

What gives, whitey? Where's the post?

2006-01-27T04:53:00.000-08:00

My apologies for not posting this week. It has been a whirlwind week at work and I had anticipated writing an entry this evening. However, I wasn't able to get the pictures I needed from Pam and I am hopping on a plane first thing tomorrow morning.

Last Saturday Pam and I went to Seoul Tower, which is a 237 meter tall structure located on top of a mountain in the middle of Seoul. The view from this mountain was absolutely phenomenal, and I promise the pictures will be worth the wait. I regret to inform that it won't happen next week, however, as I will be soaking up sunshine in Thailand.

I was asked Thursday evening if I would take the hogwan's designated vacation time next week. Don't worry--I'm not in trouble. We just have a surplus of teachers for the next week, so the bosses decided I should work on my tan. I spent the last evening and today scrambling for deals and scored a plane ticket to Bangkok for one week. While I would love to post a blog next week, I doubt that desire will be strong enough to pry me from the beach. On the bright side, I will have plenty of pretty pictures to share with my most beloved readers, and I will also fill everyone in on last Saturday. See ya in a week!

Kalbi 101

2006-01-18T05:56:00.000-08:00

Pictured here is my neighbor Buddy and his lovely girlfriend Hyeo Min, aka Minnie. Pam was also present, but I convinced her that the camera could not do her beauty justice, so she begrudgingly opted not to be in the photo. Look at how cute these two are... kinda makes me wanna puke. I'll tell you what doesn't make me want to puke: Kalbi! On an aside, I'd like to think that my old Shakespeare professor, Dr. Kerwin would be really proud of this introduction.

Kalbi is one of our favorite activities. This is group dining at its best, and we like to partake in this feast at least once a week. We'll either have kalbi or sam gib sau, the former being beef and the latter being pork. What happens is we order food for at least two people, usually more,and the servers (who are extremely gracious and helpful unlike the help I grew accustomed to) bring an array of sides and fire up the grill.

As you may have noticed, there is a grill in the middle of the table. We start the feast by throwing the meat, garlic, onions, and mushrooms on the grill and letting it all fry. In the meantime, we munch on the soup provided, usually in two varieties. In this case we have gimchi jiggae (kimchi soup), which is a spicy red soup with cabbage and tofu, and egg soup (Korean name unknown), which is basically a big scrambled egg with some various flavoring. Both are delicious... and nutritious. We also munch on the sprouts and vegetables on the table.

I have to take a moment to describe the sprouts, which are incredibly tasty. The sprouts are very fresh and crunchy, and they pop delightfully when I bite into them. They are a little salty and are seasoned with crushed chilis and some sort of red sauce/paste. There is also a green grasslike veggie with a really fresh cucumbery taste that I could eat all day. I have no idea what this is and I don't really care, as long as it's within reach of my chopsticks.

When the meat is cooked, we pick pieces off the grill with our chopsticks and put them in a lettuce leaf, or sesame leaf if preferred. Pam hates sesame leaves, while I don't mind them. I prefer lettuce, but it's good either way. After securing the meat and possibly a garlic clove or piece of onion in the lettuce, I put a big dollup of chili paste on, just to make everything stick. The chili paste isn't overly spicy, but rather a little sweet. Honestly, I'm not sure how to describe it except that it is enormously savory. With the paste in place (to make everything stick together), I'll then add sprouts or grasslike stuff--sometimes both, and a little bit of rice. Then I wrap it up and scarf it down. I also forgot to mention the individual saucers of oil and seasoning to dip our meat into. I'll use these ever other leaf or so often.

Also on the table is kimchi (of course) and macaroni salad, which goes largely ignored. I have no idea how macaroni salad made it onto this menu, alas there's always one thing (at least) out of place in Korea. I'm not a huge fan of regular kimchi, but I like to grill it. Sometimes I'll thow a pile of kimchi on the grill and use it to supplement my gourmet lettuce wraps.

I can stuff one after another of these things into my face, and I always feel good afterwards. Tasty and nutritious, kalbi might be the ideal food. I already can sense one thing I'll miss when I come home, and it's this delectable style of eating.

Awwww, Just look at them

2006-01-11T20:55:00.000-08:00

As promised, here are the youngins. From left to right there is Gina, Stella, Sally, Laura (eyes closed), Rachel, Paul, Sarah, Sky, Max, and Tom. This is one of my largest classes and one of my favorites as well.

The kids just moved on to a higher level book, and they are more than up to the challenge. Not only are these kids sponges, but they are really enthusiastic, sometimes to the point of aggravation. Some of my classes sit there like lumps when I ask a question or ask for a reader. Not these kids... they're all over it. When I ask for a reader their hands shoot up and they yell "Me! me! me!". They're a teachers fondest dream.

Just look at how anxious they were to be photographed. I asked them if they'd pose for a picture and they jumped out of their seats and shot to the back of the classroom. Notice how the boys are on one side and the girls on the other--This never changes. The boys always sit on my right, with Sky always sitting next to me, while the girls are always on my left, with Rachel and Laura alternately sitting by my side. I think it comes down to whoever gets there first, but it doesn't matter to me as they're both really sweet. Little Laura sat next to me today and I realized that her reading and speaking skills have improved markedly over the past two months. Even though it probably had more to do with her extremely smart classmates than yours truly, I can't help feeling gratification because of the tangible results.

This classroom is on the top floor of the building, and the entire hogwan knows when I'm coming. I'm usually met by one of them at the bottom of the steps, and they take off upstairs yelling "Chris teacher! Chris teacher!" They then will relay the information to the kids waiting at the third floor steps for me, and they run to the classroom as soon as they see me, yelling the same "Chris teacher!" Of course, I get a big kick out of this, and it is a great way to start my Tuesdays and Thursdays. It's too bad the rest of my T-Tr classes can't be like this, as the day gets tougher after that. On these days I've taken to bribing my later classes (more on that later), and they're starting to get a little better. This class, however, requires no arm twisting and is a blast to be around.

A fist full of 'bucks

2006-01-06T22:15:00.000-08:00

Okay, I have a really great picture of my favorite Tuesday-Thursday class... and I left the memory card in the office, which is locked up for the weekend. Sorry, but please look forward to the next entry as these kids are ridiculously cute.

In the meantime, I think it's time for another Starbucks rant. I've discovered that Starbucks coffee is my crack. I'm totally hooked and I can't go a week without it. Luckily, there is a Starbucks in every city in the world, so the Seattle born juggernaut can keep me as its slave even on the other side of the world. I was watching Austin Stevens on the discovery channel the other day and I could have sworn I saw a Starbucks in the middle of the jungle. I believe there's also a Starbucks on the moon. Starbucks.

I just purchased a couple of bags at Suwon station, which is basically a gigantic shopping mall/depot. I rarely see other whities in Suwon, but I always see at least one at Starbucks. It's without fail. I saw one today, and we gave each other the obligatory white person's nod. Whenever two white people see each other (two or three times a month), they always nod at each other, as if to say "I see you, whitey.". I did this ritual with a whitey today, and then started laughing. One of my favorite things to do is to try to spot white people in crowds. I do this thing with my neighbor Pam where I nudge her whenever I see a white person and proceed to subtly point at them. Yeah, it's stupid and kind of juvenile, yet I find it endlessly entertaining.
By the way, Starbucks.

This week I found coffee mate at the local Lotte Mart, so my life is now complete. I'm not a purist like my neighbor Buddy, who will only drink Starbucks from a press. Not me, baby. I brew a pot every morning and drink it with coffee mate. It really can't be beat. A couple of weeks ago I ventured out and tried something other than the house blend, only to realize when I got home that it was decaf. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! It took about half a day for me to discover how addicted I am to my morning cup, as the headache and general edginess nearly cost my 5 o'clock boys their lives. I corrected my mistake that evening by purchasing a bag of House, and have lived happily since. Starbucks.

Starbucks.

And the rockets red glare...

2006-01-01T01:43:00.000-08:00

Nice view, eh? I've recently added the word "eh" to my vocabulary thanks to my association with numerous Canadians. Beauty, eh? Take off. As you can see, I spent my New Year's Eve watching fireworks from the rooftop. I wasn't alone this time, as my friends and neighbors Buddy and Haji were with me. We brought a cd boom box with us and listened to Mozart's 40th symphony as a background to the fantastic fireworks show.

I have to say that I've never had this great a view of a fireworks display without dealing with crowds, traffic, and view obstructions. All we had to do was walk upstairs and climb onto the roof. In order to get on the roof we merely have to step out of the fourth floor window onto a narrow ledge where we walk about fifteen feet and climb a rope to the top. Just kidding, mom... there's a ladder inside that leads to the roof. No more laughing in the face of danger.

In addition to the music, we also brought some bubbly with us and toasted the new year. I'm happy that I opted to stay home instead of going into Seoul. I've never been a fan of going out on New Year's Eve, and I have to say that I had a great time last night with the view and the company. The general feeling among us is that 2006 is going to be a great year, but then again it would be kind of stupid to say: "You know, guys... this upcoming year might really suck. I just have that feeling."

I'm truly excited to be where I am, although I really miss everyone. I look forward to sharing more with everyone this year, as I resolve to keep up with the blogs. I'd like to thank all who've read and commented for their support and encouragement as it motivates me to keep writing. Who knows? A little more practice and these things might actually get interesting. Happy New Year and God bless us, everyone.

Seasons Greetings

2005-12-27T05:11:00.000-08:00

I wanted to take this opportunity to wish everyone a happy New Year, and a belated Merry Christmas. I took these photos from the rooftop of our hogwan on Christmas day, just before sunset. As you can see, Korea is pretty crowded. However, it was silent on this rooftop at this time. And don't worry, I never thought about jumping.

Officially, I was never up here. I'm not technically supposed to come up here, but am encouraged off the record from higher powers to enjoy the view, which is exactly what I did on this splendid day. I dragged a bottle of cabernet with me and spent some quiet time of reflection and prayer. I should also say that I didn't drink straight from the bottle as I also brought a glass--albeit a coffee mug.

I raised my mug to various friends and family and said a quiet prayer for each one. I thought about my mom and dad, brother and sister, and their children and spouses. It hasn't been the smoothest year for all of us, but I thought about all the great things we have and how many great things the next year will hold. I made a toast to my extended family, and their yearly Christmas celebration. I also acknowledged the soccer bhoys back home, and toasted their continued health and happiness. I raised my glass to the boys back in Columbia, and to my old pool cue which they're now using (and they better damn well be taking care of her). I toasted my other friends in Columbia, St. Louis, and throughout whom I've been so fortunate to have. I said a prayer for the Oestereichs, who are more family than friends. I know this next year will be especially great for them.

I said a prayer of thanks for all of these wonderful people who have been so patient, loving, and accepting of me and are now my faithful readers. I also said a prayer of gratitude for my current place and the new friends in my life. Although at this moment I was all be myself, I never for a second felt alone thanks to the relationships in my life that transcend anything material. I drank to the people who have made me what I am, and how grateful I am to have them in my life.

Then I killed the bottle and decided it was time to get the hell off the rooftop. Happy New Year, everyone... and thank you all. Enjoy the view!!

One of these kids is not like the others...

2005-12-19T05:22:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken without a flash. Know why it didn't need one?... Because there's a spotlight on me every time I get on the train. These cars are always packed like sardines full of Koreans and I'm accustomed to being the only whitey in sight. I mean, seriously, look how freakin' white I am. I stick out like a sore thumb everywhere I go, but the train is especially funny to me.

A couple of weeks ago I met a friend at a station in Anyang, which is a huge, crowded station. He spotted me in about 15 seconds, as it was like picking out the moon in the sky. There's never any need for "How will I know where to find you?", as it's always more like "Don't worry, I'm impossible to miss."

We whities have this unwritten code where we nod at each other when spotted. One time I was in one car and I spotted a whitey in the adjacent car through the window, and we both lit up with the same expression of humorous recognition and shot each other the pistol "hey buddy" salutation. It really was funnier than it sounds.

The best subway story so far was when I was going from Hwaseo, the local station, to an unknown destination in Seoul with two other guys, Braden and Bill. The train pulled up while we were a good 75 yards away and up a flight of steps. Braden says: "We can make this thing" and takes off running. Bill followed, and I lagged behind like the newbie that I am. Braden got in the car no problem followed by Bill, who was pushing it. Then the doors started to close as I was about 20 feet away and the Indiana Jones theme kicked on in my head. I didn't have Braden's or Bill's phone numbers, so if I missed this train I'd be s.o.l. I made a mad dash, and leaped through the doors sideways as they closed the instant I made it through. If I could go back and capture just one image on camera, it would be the look of astonishment, amazement, and bewilderment on everyone on the train's faces as I leaped into their car. There was a collective "oooohhh" as I made my spectacular white entry.

Of course, I found out later that the doors aren't like elevator doors and people have been known to get stuck in them. I laughed in the face of danger on this occasion, however... and came out smelling like a rose.

What has two thumbs and rides the bus?

2005-12-16T04:38:00.000-08:00

This Guy!!!

This pic was taken two weeks ago when I was en route to a Christmas/going away party. It costs about 75 cents to get on the bus and it will take me anywhere in Suwon. I tried the bus once back home and it was totally miserable as it took nearly two hours for me to travel about 10 miles. Not here, baby. The buses rule the road and they are all over the place.

The buses move along the streets at breakneck speed and all the other motorists and pedestrians have the good sense to get the hell out of the way. In order to board one of these things, one has to get a running start and run along side the bus as it slows down just enough to let you on. Think a bicycle relay team and you get the picture. The drivers don't piddle around at the bus stop and they never make unnecessary stops. These guys make turns that don't seem physically possible and blow through intersections daring any jackass to get in front of them. If anything gets in their way, they honk their mammoth horns which part the earth in front of them.

And just in case you're wondering, I always wear that expression on the bus. As if it isn't weird enough to see a white boy, the passengers have an especially goofy one to deal with. The picture was taken by my neighbor Pam, who told me to look pensive for the photo. I gave her my best pensive face and I think it worked out well--at least, if pensive means what I think it does.

On a side note, I have to give credit for everything I'm wearing in this photo except for the gloves to my wonderful Aunt Shirley, whom I miss alot.

Coming up next... the subway.

Oh sing, choir of angels...

2005-12-14T06:36:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. Great photograph. I couldn't have taken one two days ago when they were all sitting in their seats attentively. Okay, that never really happened, but they sure can sing. I actually had a better picture, but my memory card was full and I just realized it when I tried to find the picture. From the left we have Anna, Cathy (who is unfortunately out of frame), Hannah, Jin, Alex, Tommy, and Dave. Absent this day were Chelsea and Anne, two stars of the Christmas song recording. You snooze, you lose.

This class is really growing on me, kinda like a fungus. The little guy laying on the desk is Dave, who wears the biggest cat-ate-the-canary grin perpetually. He does a thing where he will look at me real seriously and then raise one eyebrow that floors me every time. He caught me this evening while Anna was reading and I broke out laughing. Sorry, Anna. I guess it's payback for all the times she breaks out laughing while I'm talking. The mischeivian (Did I just make that word up?) with the cap in the back is Jin. He played dumb for the first few weeks, giving me blank stares and shaking his head. However, once we started practicing our Christmas song, he showed his true colors. This kid belted out every word perfectly, confirming my suspicion that he was just pretending to not understand. It's a shame that Cathy didn't make it into the picture, as she is a real joy. I'll have to give her her due later. Although, Hannah was hiding in the other picture, so I'm glad I caught her. Hannah is very nice and well-behaved, but also very shy. Alex is a very bright one, and the boy next to him, Tommy, is new but has alot of potential. Sorry, I'm still in evaluation mode.

So these kids blew me away last week when I taught them the first verse to "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" and was greeted with the usual blank stares. This was Monday. Well, Wednesday I walked into class and they had not only learned the entire song Tuesday, but they were singing it in perfect harmony (Well, at least compared to my other classes). It may very well have been my happiest moment at work. We re-wrote the final verse that night to include everyone in the class's name in the song, and started recording Friday. We finished Monday, and tonight it was back to business. However, things were different with our normal lesson as the kids were finally interested and I was enjoying their company and having fun. It's too bad they can't all be like this--I'll talk about my nightmares on another occasion.

Stay tuned as I will post some thoughts on public transportation as soon as my lovely neighbor Pamela sends me the pictures...

Meandering gobbledygook

2005-12-12T05:05:00.000-08:00

I don't really have a topic to write about this evening, but I feel obligated to post something. I actually have a few topics I want to cover this week, however, I don't have the pictures on hand as they are on the office computer. All of my time on the office computer the last week has been eaten up by student evaluations.

Student evaluations are a pain for all teachers and are especially tough for me since I still can't remember everyone's names. I have somewhere between 60 and 90 students and had to assess each one's performance this week. Generally I would follow a simple formula. First thing to do is to start off with a general, vague complement i.e. Suzi is a good student and she demonstrates a grasp of the material or Johnny is a good student and he demonstrates a grasp of the material. Next, I follow up with a blurb on their behaviour, i.e. Suzi is very well behaved in the classroom and sets a fine example for the other students or Johnny'd better straighten his ass up in the classroom or I will physically kill him. After that, I offer a small, tactful blurb on their deficiency(s), i.e. While Suzy shows tremendous potential, she is a little behind the other students in her reading and would benefit from a little extra study at home or Johnny is not a complete retard and is decently capable of learning English if he quit screwing around. Lastly, I offer a complement and a little encouragement i.e. Keep up the good work Suzi, and you'll be caught up with the rest of the class in no time or Johnny, you're lucky to be alive at this point. Pay attention, or else!

Now, repeat this formula 80 times and you'll understand why I haven't posted anything.

I realize this post is a little all over the place, but I didn't have a topic and wrote it because it was due. Ahhh, takes me back to my Ol' Mizzou days. Speaking of Missouri, I spoke with a fellow from Colorado the other night and he referred to Missouri as the New Jersey of the midwest. The question I have is who should be more offended, Missourians or New Jersians (New Jerseyans?, I dunno)? I do miss the old university and even checked the standings today. Mizzou football finished 6-5, while the basketball team is 3-3. Some things will never change. Death, taxes, and Mizzou sports mediocrity.

Anyway, I just wanted to get something out there for my devoted fans (mom and dad) and to say that I'll have something more substantial and possibly entertaining in the next day or so--pictures included. As soon as the evaluation hangover wears off...

At last, a post that actually says something.

2005-12-05T04:52:00.000-08:00

Not, really, but I did finally get somewhat of a handle on my technological inefficiency and was able to locate this picture. It took me about six hours, which in this pc room will run me about four bucks. A pc room (known around here as a pc bang) is a place where anyone can get on a computer and surf the net or play computer games. They are on every street corner and usually cost 1000 won per hour. They are typically noisy and smoky, however this one is very nice. There are normally kids here, but it has never been too crowded, noisy, or smoky for my liking. Plus, they bring me coffee when I sit down, which tastes suspiciously like cheap hot chocolate.

Starting clockwise from the left, we have Patrick, Peter, Sean, Angel, Lina, and Rudy. As you may know from my pictures, about one in every four Korean girls are born with a defect in which they have no nose or mouth. Thus, Lina opted to hide her shame behind Rudy. I took this picture after our trip to the local street vendor for dok boki. Not pictured is the strained look of hidden disgust as I bit into a gelatinous, funky, fishy meatball. "How do you like, teacher?" they say. To which I reply: "It's (gag) delicious." as I try to hide my grimace. Actually the rice dumplings, cheese, and sauce are tasty--it's the fishballs (or possibly a fish's balls) that I have a hard time with.

What I don't have a hard time with is this particular class. They are my smartest bunch and I look forward to seeing them on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays. We are currently practicing "Santa Claus is coming to Town" for the Christmas album. I would have objected to singing a song about Satan Claus, but international law mandates that it is un-p.c. to mention Jesus in the classroom, even though it's his birthday and all. Joking aside, (yes, I was joking--sort of) the kids are very enthusiastic singers, which is a quality I've found common to most of my kids. They just love to belt out into song, and I don't mind as long as I don't have to sing along. So we begin recording wednesday and the album will be done by Christmas. I'm working on other songs with my other classes and I can't wait to see how "Blue Christmas" with the 6-8 year olds will turn out. I have to admit, song practice is fun. The only downside is the fact that it's the first week of December and I'm already sick of Christmas music.

HO, HO, HO!!! Merry Christmas and God bless us, everyone!

Forget it, I quit.

2005-12-01T10:52:00.000-08:00

I give up. I quit. I've been trying to upload, or download, or sideload, or whatever the whatyouwanttosay load this stinking (PG 13 journal) picture for the last hour (more like three days) and I just can't do it. Honestly, I have no idea how I successfully posted the pictures that we all saw, but I think it was akin to a blind squirrel finding an acorn. Actually, I think the blind squirrel had the better odds of the two.

So now we should take this moment to give thanks for the unbelievably fortuitous current in the ebb and flow of the universe that somehow allowed me to show nice pictures to go along with the not as interesting words. I have this really nice picture of my students eating dok boki, and I wanted to share it with the world. Alas. So, while I re-configure the method in which a sun shines on a dog's bungus (is that a better word than ass?), I'll digress and talk about dok boki.

My first week of class I was pretty much clueless (Oh yeah, I'm much better now), so I took it casual and talked to the kids about food. I went about it by writing what I had for lunch on the board in Hangul (the Korean alphabet) and having them describe it to me. I ended up having them write what they had in Hangul and we would go through each item and describe what it is, how it is cooked, what it tastes like, etc. etc. While it sounds silly, it actually was a great conversation piece, simultaneously stimulating conversation and helping me decide what to order for dinner.

One thing about Koreans: They really love their food, and they love to talk about it. Being a lover of food myself, the first week was really stimulating. One thing that I found that every kid ate yet noone could really describe was dok boki. Now, "dok" is a type of rice dumpling, which is akin to a chewy noodle. Not bad. Don't ask me what the hell "boki" means, though. I know that kids here are obsessed with this stuff and they eat it all of the time. It consists of tubular rice dumplings cooked in a spicy red sauce (think Chef Boyardee with a zing) and topped with cheese. Oh, and like C.B. the treat has meatballs, called odeng (don't ask me if the spelling is correct, just think: "oh, dang."). These meatballs are actually funky gelatinous fishballs which is probably where the term "oh, dang" came from.

Anyway, the picture I meant to show was yours truly eating dok boki with his smartest and gentlest class. However, technology frightens and confuses yours truly so you'll have to wait a day or so to visualize this scene. Since I couldn't leave my beloved (3) readers empty-handed for half a week, I decided to give y'all this pointless rant. So next time, which will be soon, think Peter, Patrick, Sean, Angel, Rudy, Lina, and dok boki... and have a wonderful day.

We got game

2005-11-27T02:49:00.000-08:00

Okay, you guessed it... this picture wasn't taken in Korea. It was passed on by my brother and I liked it so much that I've decided to immortalize it by posting it to my journal. This was taken on a sunday afternoon, after the Backbar Rovers (soon to be the New Belgium Rovers) and Steinclub played games on adjacent fields. While I always thought our greatest talent was not our
ability to kick a soccer ball, but our ability to drink beer (note the Steak, Taters, and Gravy in hand). However, since I kicked around Saturday I realized that our soccer skills aren't so bad either. Despite what the rest of the world thinks, there are some pretty good American soccer players.

I had been here three weeks to the day before I finally touched a soccer ball. In the meantime I had conversed with people from Nigeria, New Zealand, Great Britain, Croatia, Slovenia, and of course, Korea about the world's game. It truly is an international language as I have found that the conversation between two completely foreign strangers perks up immediately when I mention the beautiful game and how I love to play it. It seems that everytime I meet a non-American, the one thing that we always have that we can talk about is soccer. After all, every guy outside of America knows who Steven Gerrard is.

Now talking and playing are two different things, and I wasn't sure what the skill level would be like and whether or not I could hang. After Saturday's game, I now know how silly I was for thinking that. While the gents had great footskills and were fairly quick, I didn't face the kind of pressure I got accustomed to at SportPort (the site of the photo). All of those times I got beat up by behemoth defenders definetly prepared me for the challenges I easily absorbed Saturday. Not that one game tells everything about the whole soccer culture, but suffice to say that the talent I faced in St. Louis, Missouri more than stands up to the talent I faced Saturday. I promptly e-mailed my dad and brother, telling them the game results (I won't toot my own horn here, but they know what happened) and my dad had an interesting response. He said that the pitch is a great place to represent my country in a positive way and I strongly agree with that statement. I wish more Americans would play.

I'm not really sure what the point of this post is (a common phenomenon), so I guess I'll just say that it is an ode to the game I love and a tribute to all of the great players back home. Miss you bhoys!!

In case anyone was wondering... I do have a job

2005-11-25T04:44:00.000-08:00

Since I'm in a PC room right now and I can't for the life of me figure out how to get this card reader to work, I'm afraid that this particular entry will be photoless. I know what everyone is thinking: "Why would we want to use our imaginations?--Show us the goods, whiteboy" (or something like that). I know from experience how repulsive this idea is seeing how last night my neighbor lent me a book with--ready for this--no pictures. What on earth am I supposed to do with that? Since I wouldn't want my readers to wake up Friday morning and run to their computers only to realize that they have no new entry, I guess I'll just have to use my words. Anything to appease the hungry audience back home (as I pat myself on the back).

This is a good time for me to give a brief introduction to what will be a weekly blurb on my professional (author snickers) life. I have fortunately fallen into a very sweet gig. I am currently teaching 5 classes a day, 5 days a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are the more sophisticated classes, i.e. they understand or at least pretend to understand english and can even converse a little. Tuesday and Thursdays are the joyous days when the classes are a little bigger and a lot slower--that is as far as english comprehension is concerned. So I have ten different classes, ranging from 6 to 12 students. I work from 4-9 MWF, and 3-8 TTr. Just for perspective--A couple of weeks ago when I was in Anyang, another teacher I met was saying how fortunate he was to work 9-6 Monday thru Friday. Yikes!

Having never seen a pure white Christian man before, the children are very curious and friendly. They like to say things like: "Teacher! You HANDSOME!!", to which I say: "Thanks, buddy... right back at ya!". For some reason it's always the boys that say that (scratches head).
One Saturday morning I walked down to the store and bought some treats to pass out to the kids on the street (they're everywhere) and I swear I was nothing less than the pied piper himself. The kids love waving, saying "HI!!" and giggling. I would be lying if I said I don't have a blast with it.

Anyway, back to the point (a loose term here) of this treatise: I am taking pictures of each of my classes and will publish my first entry in the next day or so. I'm starting with my smartest class, who have been a real joy to teach. I'll get to the little demon-monsters (kidding... not kidding... no seriously, kidding) in later weeks.

In an aside final note, I hope everyone had a wonderful thanksgiving and I want to express how much I missed my family and friends. Luckily, I have two wonderful neighbors who have gone out of their way to make me feel at home and successfully talked me off the ledge last night. Not to depress anyone, but the idea of going a thanksgiving day without family, friends, turkey, and the Dallas Cowboys is one that I never thought I'd face. I made it through it though, and had a wonderful day today. So, I guess there's hope for Christmas after all. Happy Holidays, everyone!

Alright, Alright.

2005-11-22T03:53:00.000-08:00

Since I've been under enormous pressure from unsaid sources to crank out entries as if I were in a Kathy Lee sweatshop, my school expose will have to wait. Instead, I give my faithful and beloved readers a rushed and uninspired account of a Saturday night out with some new friends. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I was telling a colleague the other night that I would never post a picture of myself on my own log. Why, you ask? Just to keep the friends and family back home wondering if I ever got a haircut. The answer thus far is obviously no. Since this is the only picture I will ever show of myself (Keep in mind I said two days ago I would never post a picture of yours truly), I'm glad I'm wearing such a lovely blue shirt.

Going clockwise around the table, sitting next to me is Theresa. I met Theresa earlier that evening at a briss. Sitting next to her is Veronica, whom Theresa and I met on the subway. Sitting to her left is her second cousin Jeremetrius and his girlfriend Fantasia. The gal sitting next to her, Violetta, is self-conscious about having no nose, thus she would only agree to be in the picture if she could hide behind Anastasia, pictured at the right forefront. Anastasia is a sherpa who would later guide us around Itaewon. Not pictured is the lovely Gilian, who is not pictured because she is on the other side of the camera.

Itaewon is a part of Seoul in which there are a bunch of cheesy western bars and jacked-up drink prices. It should be noted that there is a major army base in Itaewon. It took us about one hour to get there by subway. I'll give the place this much: We did have some extremely delicious Thai food and the place has tremendous energy. The group pictured was a fun, intellectual bunch whose company was very much enjoyed. While I met a bunch of really cool people in Seoul the weekend before, I had no real desire to talk to anyone outside the group in this spot. It was like the nightclubs back home: filled with drunken adrenalized meatheads (present company included). I regaled the ladies with my overblown tales of my stint as a bouncer (NEVER say doorstaff). They were pretty impressed until they felt my muscles.

Overall, it was an enjoyable and successful evening out, although I regret to say that our sherpa is leaving the country after two years. Our group will be sans guide. Alas, we must continue on...

There they were just a'walking down the Street

2005-11-18T22:29:00.000-08:00

Okay, before I begin my spiel, musing, rant, or whatever you might want to call my snippets I want everyone to note three things about this picture (yeah, I know... only three??!!): Number 1. There's noone in this picture. Number 2. The cars are parked in both directions. Number 3. Look how freakin' narrow this street is!!

This is a typical sort of street/alley. These are in every direction from the hogwan and lead to the broader boulevards where all the businesses are. Number one is of special note because it never happens. I took a picture of this street with noone on it because it is akin to taking a picture of Bigfoot--Not the truck. This was taken on an early Sunday morning, which is the quietest and possibly only quiet time of the week. Normally this alley would be flooded with children by day and stumbling drunk businessmen by night. I will delve deeper into the aspect of children roaming the streets in a future installment, but for now I wanted to give the idea that people walk around on these streets constantly.

Now note number two. What could one surmise from the fact that the cars are parked in both directions? Anyone who guessed that this is a two-way street is either perceptive or a college gargiguate like myself. Yes, cars go both ways on this street. How does this work you ask? I really can't explain--it defies physics. Thankfully, American influence is rubbing off and there is a movement towards bigger cars here, which should only help the traffic flow on streets like this. Also in the mix are the incredibly brave scooter and motorcycle drivers, who zip along these avenues in a manner that would make Eval Kineval say: "Damn. Those cats are insane."

Finally (mercifully), we go to point number three, which was sort of covered in point two. Mentally picture point one (tons of people--mostly children) and mix it together with point two (two-way traffic and maniacal scooter drivers) and add the fact that this street is about fifteen feet wide and what do you get? In the words of the Crocodile Hunter: "Danger, danger, danger." You would think the pedestrians would be really cautious, but in fact they don't even notice the cars. They obliviously walk in the middle of the street in front of traffic and the drivers just honk their horns and zoom right around them. And I used to think U. City was bad. (Mom may be the only one who gets that joke, but oh well. Here's to you.)

There's Something Fishy about this Place

2005-11-15T03:30:00.000-08:00

I want to preface this post by saying that this country has alot going for it. I've walked around three different cities with absolutely no worry whatsoever of being attacked, mugged, or worse. The people have been warm and friendly, and the food (I've been able to sidestep the landmines thusfar) has been terrific. The streets are lively and fun, and there are a million things to do. That being said...

DAMN, THIS PLACE SMELLS FUNKY! I mean, walking around, about every 15 yards there is an air pocket of pure funk. Imagine the smell of this fish stand... Okay now imagine that there is one of these every 20 feet and you're beginning to get a feel for the scent of the marketplace. Not complaining here--I love the marketplace--just telling how it is. The air is alive with funky fish aromas (odors).

The second distinctive funk pocket comes from the trash. The city dwellars never really figured out what to do with their trash, so they just kind of scatter it around. Don't get me wrong, they are making an effort. They used to just burn everything so there was a burning garbage funk pocket which was probably more like a funk cloud. So now they have a 4-tiered sorting and recylcing system. The problem is that noone really knows how this works and if the trash isn't sorted properly, it just kinda gets left on the curb. Seeing how noone knows what to do with trash, you don't see many trash cans around (Who wants that kind of responsibility?). This wouldn't lead to a litter problem, would it?

Anyway, funk pocket three is from the underbelly of the city--the sewage. I'm not really sure why I get an occasional whiff of this but I think it may have something to do with the massive population and the fermented cabbage they eat with every meal.

All of this being said, I still haven't come across a smell funkier than the alley behind PaddyO's (shout out to my homies). And it isn't as if the air is totally gross. It is more of a deal where your walking along and every 10th step or so you just kind of wrinkle your nose and say "Damn". I've already made it a running joke with my neighbors when we're walking along and I stop and say: "Hmmm. That's odd... It smells like fish."

Whenever I'm feeling low...

2005-11-15T03:09:00.000-08:00

Or whenever I'm feeling the blues (or insert your own crappy bass guitar pun here if you wish)... Yep, this baby's mine--an electric bass guitar, just what I've always wanted. Remember how I always talked about wanting to play the bass and how I could never find the right one? Neither do I. I'll admit it's a bit of an impulse buy, but it's pretty friggin' cool. It is resting on the first item I bought on the marketplace--a blue down comforter. I'm proud of this buy as it's the least girly looking blanket in Korea and I talked the proprietor down from 30,000 won to 17,000. As you all can imagine it was all in the smooth talking.

Anyway, back to the bass... I figure this would give me a hobby during the day time and I should be able to completely master it in a month with a little practice, kind of like the Korean language. If not, no big deal. I just want it laying out for when the chicks come over. Even if they ask me to play it, o.k., it doesn't have an amp so you can't hear it anyway. SWEET!

On an aside, I have to apologize for not posting over the weekend. My jet lag finally caught up with me and I spent the last couple of days in bed resting. Something funky happened to my stomach; perhaps it had something to do with fermented cabbage--who knows? Anyway, I was pretty laid out so I wasn't able to post. I know how sad it must have made everyone, so I'm doing a special 2 for 1 bonus this evening. Enjoy, boys and girls.

Episode I: The Quest for Coffee

2005-11-10T18:58:00.000-08:00

After a hazy, on and off night of quasi-sleep after the thoroughly exhausting journey overseas, I got up early with an enormous hankering for a hot cup o' joe. I ventured out on my own into the neighborhood in search of a coffee shop. The best way to do this without offending anyone is to walk down the street and yell aloud: "I'm American and I need Starbucks!!!" I've been told that this is the best way to show my new neighbors how open-minded and accepting of other cultures I am. This advice came from the same person that told me to kick somebody's ass on the first day or become someone's boy toy. Kidding aside, I couldn't seem to find coffee but I'd never found wandering around aimlessly so interesting.

This area is about a two minute walk from my apartment. While it looks like a noisy neighborhood, my place is actually tucked away on a quiet corner (more on that later). The place on the left is the marketplace, while the place with all of the traffic is the... the... Honestly, I don't know what this place is, but I do know that there is no Starbucks. A person can find just about anything he or she wants in this place, unless they are looking for gourmet coffee, then they are SOL. I never did find my Starbucks, but was able to solve my coffee crisis later that day. The new boss (he would never let me call him that to his face) took me to the department store and I bought a coffee maker and grounds. I didn't bring my camera along due to the fact that I don't want to be one of those annoying people who walks around a department store and takes pictures, at least, not on the first day.

Later that evening, while wandering around the market, I made my first Korean friend, You Doctor (his name is "You", no b.s.). He said he saw me shouting for coffee earlier and had a deep respect for my American manners. Seriously though, we did have a conversation (I was so happy that he understood me and vice versa) and he invited me over to his house. There he and his wife fed me persimmons, pears, and some sort of deep-fried grass or onion. I don't know what it was, but it sure was tasty. Also, we drank their homemade whiskey, which had been brewing in a big jug for a year. The ingredients: Jack Daniels, ginseng, mushrooms (beats me), anise, and Chinese herbs. My first taste of Korean hospitality was a smashing success. Perhaps I was the first blond-blue person they've ever seen in Suwon.

A short time ago in a country far, far away...

2005-11-07T20:00:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody! As promised, I've created a blog--yes, I've become one of those people. I'm sitting in a PC room in my little neighborhood in Suwon and I finally figured out how to change the settings on this computer to accomodate an English speaking "waygook" like myself. While I don't yet have pictures to share, I promise they will come along very soon. Believe me, I've got plenty of material to shoot.

First order of business is to let everyone that I haven't contacted yet know that I made it over here in one piece, sanity intact. I won't kid you guys, the flight was a bear. I should preface my flight synopsis by saying that I had this bright idea of wearing a thick sweatshirt and down coat to save luggage space. It's November, right? It must be chilly somewhere in-between St. Louis, San Francisco and Suwon, right? WRONG! November 4, and it's 75 degrees across the globe, which made walking around the airport with two twenty pound bags and three layers of clothing all the more enjoyable.

At least I got to fly Singapore Air, which is fantastic. After transferring from AA, which wouldn't even give me peanuts on a four1/2 hour flight, I was welcomed aboard Singapore with a steaming hot towel. My greasy, sweatty face was beaming underneath the ridiculously hot towel. I was also given a complimentary comfort pack, which consisted of a toothbrush and paste and a pair of purple socks with tread on the bottom. I didn't make that up, I've still got the socks. I had a personal LCD screen with an on-demand package. So much for reading War and Peace on the flight (sorry, Tim G.).

Despite the movie marathon, I really started getting stir crazy about 61/2 hours into the flight. At least I thought that was the duration--I had not brought a watch and had no concept of time elapsed other than guessing from what I watched and estimating how long I had slept (not very long sitting in an upright position). At least I didn't go hungry. The cuisine was excellent for airplane food, and I had some decent riesling to go with it. Despite the excellent service and entertainment, 12 hours on a plane is 12 hours on a plane. I was a zombie for the next two days and finally slept through the night last night--three days later.