Watching Paint Dry

I decided to celebrate the end of the unluckiest, crappiest, worst month that I've had in Korea by painting my kitchen. I mean, gee, I've had such a wonderful time this July, what with a motorbike accident on vacation, being denied entry to a Communist nation, and other little things that I haven't blogged about, like losing a very pretty $40 barrette the first time I wore it out, and my necklace from India (that I totally haven't taken off since January) breaking, so how could painting be risky at all?

Funny sidenote: Far from our computer calibrated colours in Canada, here, they make coloured paint by mixing a bit of what looks like ink or darker paint into a gallon of white, then stir by hand!

I started by moving everything out of the kitchen and into the other room. Using this as a great excuse to do a major cleaning, I also stripped the bed, and piled a bunch of crap on it. I started painting, armed with a big old style wooden paintbrush - no rollers??? - and was literally slapping the paint on.


Then, I heard a noise: Maybe, Alex's cat, had discovered a container of catnip in all the stuff I'd thrown on the bed, had managed to open it, empty it, and was now rolling around in it. Right... To get an idea of the magnitude of the mess, why don't you pile a bunch of stuff on your bed, open a jar of dried spices (oregano, basil, whatever) and then drag a feather duster through it??? Then, shake the feather duster around the room.

I just kept on painting, assisted by Jakob who, naturally, wedged himself behind the fridge, then stepped in some paint and ran through the whole apartment. He tried to clean himself up, started foaming at the mouth, and had to be held under the shower, then locked in the bathroom, where he howled for a while, but didn't die of paint-poisoning.

Undaunted, I continued painting, made a huge mess, became a huge sweaty mess, but finally ended up with a nice effect - as long as you don't look too closely, since the wall was kind of pock-marked and scratched and dinged. Here are some pictures, yes this is the tiny apartment where I live, decorated with treasures from my travels.... The last picture is a special one for Alex, just to show him that Maybe and Jakob are really getting along (finally).

p.s. Those of you who saw my apartments in La Pocatiere and Montreal will recognize that blue as the same colour blue that I always use...

I'm mad...

I got a call from the travel agency yesterday telling me that I didn't get a visa for North Korea. This is due to their confusion and incompetence, after I'd been in constant communication with them since July 18.

I'm trying not to question why this summer is so unlucky (Jeju and the motorbike, anyone?), and what can be done to salvage it. Most of my friends are either on vacation or in Canada, and I can't wait for them to get back. I'm not good at this "doing nothing" thing.

This time last year, I had just returned from Beijing and was getting ready to head to Malaysia and Singapore.

Fireworks, dancing, sweating and cats

Last night, Mrs Myeong took me out to the Mokpo "Sea Festival". We (her son, daughter, niece and nephew were also along - curious to play with the waygook) headed to Peace Square where, apparently, every other person in Mokpo was also conveniently located. After a bit of driving around, an illegal parking job, some kimbap and ice cream for everyone, we headed towards the dock where a white-uniformed band was playing "In the Navy" which, in fact, they were. Then, there was an amazing half-hour long fireworks display - possibly the best and most grandiose display that I've ever seen - which Mrs Myeong's nephew just loved (it was fun to talk to her niece and nephew - they aren't as shy as her kids and I was able to chat a bit with them).

Afterwards, we headed up Yudal-san, not far from my place, where a a "traditional Korean drum concert" was happening. I proved myself to be the biggest klutz in the world, of course, when I attempted to sit down on the floor seats - which were like chairs with no legs that were placed on the ground. Yeah - go ahead and try it now - just try to sit down gracefully! You can imagine my surprise when the music that was being played was not Korea, but African. There were even gorgeous, strong, African dancers that came out and danced too - hearing them speak to each other in French, and looking at the drums and outfits they wore (reminded me of Myrianne's pictures), led me to surmise that they might have been from West Africa.

Seeing as their style of dance requires, no demands, a butt and boobs, and there is nary a curve to be found in a Korean crowd, guess who got to go up and dance with them, shaking what her mama gave her? It's almost come to be an expectation. I was like, Hmmm, I'm one of 2 foreigners in the crowd, who wants to bet that I get dragged up on stage?

This morning, I decided to stop wimping out about the heat and humidity (and it was slightly cooler) and go for a walk up Yudal. I was so hot and humid that I literally looked like I'd taken a shower with my clothes on. I brought a book with me (Around the Bloc by Stephanie Elizondo Griest, which you all need to read NOW. Yes, I am getting a serious addiction to travel lit), and sat in a sort of shallow cave on the edge of a cliff and read. It's wicked awesome up there - you can only reach it by hiking most of the way up Yudal, but on trails that seem to be hardly used and sometimes overgrown and nobody who happens to walk by on the (rarely used) trail can see you.

On my way back down, I went over the top of Yudal and met every person who lives within walking distance of Yudal. Fortunately, my clothes had dried enough so that I only looked like I'd peed my pants. Great.

As I arrived home, I heard a very insistent meow. I looked down from the road I was walking on, and saw a black and white cat who was tied up outside a house. I decided to walk down to see what the deal was, and was greeted with purrs and happy talk-y meows. Her water bowl was an old tupperware container, and absolutely green with algae. The food bowl was leftovers (rice and ???) and full of ants. She was tied by a rough piece of rope that went around her neck. Was she someone's pet? Was she destined for the rice cooker? Was she tied up for some other reason - to scare away mice as the cat that Sloane rescued was? With these thoughts in mind, I returned home to my own spoiled cat, grabbed some cat food, filled a bottle with water, and headed back to where the cat was, muttering under my breath about the treatment of animals in Korea and wondering how I would react if someone confronted me.

As I was washing out her bowl, the door to the house opened, and an old old lady came out. Imagine, if you will, walking outside to find a sweaty stranger playing with your cat -- and she smiled at me and sat down. I showed her that the water bowl was dirty and she nodded, and I tried to explain to her that I had a cat at home. I fed the little kitty who immediately dug in , and handed the rest of the food to the old lady, who continued chatting to me. She looked at the food in the bag and asked something. I didn't understand. She asked again. and again. Finally, it clicked: She was asking me where to buy cat food. I don't know if she actually intends to buy cat food - I mean, it's a hassle for me to get it sometimes, and I still don't know if the cat is there for fun or food, but she listened to me as I told her to change the water everyday, and I might stop by there tomorrow with Luna's old harness that Jakob refuses to wear, so that she won't be tied up by her neck anymore.

Tonight, I will head back to the drum concert - but this time, it's going to be pure Korean. See if I get to go up and dance again....

Thus endeth the interesting blog posts

The Jeollanamdo Language Programme has this amazing English camp coming up for the entire month of August. It will be in three locations across the province, for elementary and middle school kids. In addition to the dozens of Korean and waygook English teachers who are involved in this thing (either to develop lesson plans or, like me, teach), there are 30-odd teachers from Portland, Oregon. From what I could gather, some of them are in the Masters' Programme there for TESL, and are getting school credit for it. The others are doing it for the heck of it. They will have a homestay with a Korean family, work their butts off for a month of camp (please note that working at a camp means, literally, being "on" for 24 hours a day), then probably travel around Korea a bit before they head back home.

I was at the camp orientation for two full days. During this time, we were pretty much practicing the lesson plans and seeing what needed to be modified or whatever to fit into the time constraints. Many of the Portland teachers had never taught before (or at least hadn't in this context) so this gave them a chance to practice teaching as well. Watching them brought me back to when we would do our practice teaching sessions at Concordia (uhhh, 10 years ago??? I seem to be in my 9th year of teaching - what??), and you suddenly realize that teaching really isn't all that easy.

Most of the people from Portland that I got a chance to speak to have to be some of the most amazing, open-minded people I've ever met. And I admit that I really really really coveted all their clothes and accessories and shoes too... (I can just imagine what they thought of me staring at their sandals and asking what size shoe they wore or breaking off mid-sentence to ask them where they bought such and such t-shirt. Freak!)

It was also a great chance to meet some of the most open and talented Korean English teachers that I've ever seen. Unlike some of the teachers I've worked with (especially last year), these were teachers who spoke amazing English AND were teaching using newer teaching methods and not the old-fashioned stuff that is usually found. I spent most of my time with Eugene, who had even mastered the art of sarcasm in English - exciting stuff: A sarcastic conversation with a middle-aged Korean man!!

The orientation was two days long - and they were two long days. I would be up around 5 to get ready and meet my ride (with Emmanuel and Warren) and not get back home until later in the evening. The organization of the whole thing was, uh, Jessica's favourite word which I can't repeat here because my mom is reading this, which was really frustrating for me since I wouldn't have had to leave my bike in Jeju if I hadn't had to come back for this thing.

Anyway, last night, I grabbed about 6 of the Portland folks and took them around Gwangju (Emart, Shinsegae, downtown) for some shopping before heading to Cock for supper (It's a chicken restaurant, okay??? Pervert.). For some, it was the first "real Korean food" that they were eating.... and once again, I was struck with their optimism and amazing attitudes as they went on about how they were looking forward to "eating real Korean food everyday". I won't meet up with them until the middle of August now (when I do my part for the camp), but I'm willing to bet that they'll be sick of rice by then.

Back in Mokpo, the cats (Jakob, and Alex's cat Maybe who I am babysitting) and I have been spending a lot of quality time with the air-conditioner. It's absolutely ridiculously hot here. I literally had to talk myself into running errands this morning. The other day, I went for a hike at 7 am, before the heat of the day had a chance to really start, and was absolutely sopping wet after only about 10 minutes of walking. It's the sort of heavy humid, sunny hot, cicadas are singing, walking for 5 paces makes you sweat sort of heat. There aren't a lot of other foreigners about these days (they've mostly headed home or on vacation), so I'm probably going to end up being a total air-conditioning hermit next week, until I head to North Korea for the weekend (woohoo - can't wait!).

Jeju

This is going to be a long post... sooooo, the short version is that I went to Jeju, loved riding around and visiting the island and came back with a sunburn and without my lovely motorbike. Highlights included white sand beaches, lots of palm trees and a ride in the back of a police car. Read on:



I got up early on Saturday morning, packed and headed to the ferry terminal. I stopped at the bank and was a bit perturbed to note that I only had about $250 (You know how it is, right before payday....). I decided to go on to Jeju anyway, even if, after paying for my ticket and hotel, I wasn't allowing much in the way of spending money once there. The check-in system for the Jeju ferry is possibly the world's most bizarre and chaotic. I had a reservation, so I fought my way to the counter (line-up???) and bought my ticket, then had to fight my way to a different counter to get the ticket for my motorbike. Then, I had to drive my bike onto the ferry (which was so cool!) where it was tied up to keep it from falling over. Then I had to go back down the loading ramp, dodge a bunch of trucks in the parking lot and head back into the waiting room so that I could (literally) turn around and come out the "passenger" doors to get back on the ferry.



My third class ticket got me some carpeted floor space in a little room with about a dozen other people. I ditched my stuff and headed up to the main deck to watch the ship leave the dock and enjoy the ... crappy weather. It was cold, windy, cloudy and somewhat drizzly - and I could only hope that the weather in Jeju would be nicer. We passed island after island, some with rice fields and houses, and several kinds of boats - fishing boats, pleasure cruisers, commercial liners. At one point, looking overboard, I could see tons of jellyfish just under the surface of the water - it actually looked like a polka-dotted scarf or something. Back inside, I chatted with Kevin, a British guy married to a Korean woman who was headed, with their baby daughter, to a new job in Jeju. He suggested that, once on land, I head south to Jungmun and avoid spending too much time in Jeju City.

Heeding Kevin's (and Jessica's friend Dan's) advice, I did just that, crossing the island in less than an hour. I took a few random exits on my ride down, passing Sanbangsan, an artpark and the, ahem, Museum of Sex. The cloudy weather did not dampen my spirits, and I had a good time wandering around until I found a sweet little minbak (inn) near Jungmun, a well-known resort town. My room was amazing - only slightly smaller than my apartment - with A/C, TV, a kitchenette and two balconies for only about $40, one of which offered a view of the owner's garden and gazebo and a far-off view of the sea.

Jeju-do is a very unique bit of Korea, which wasn't really a bit of Korea until recently. Formed by a central volcano (Halla-san), it's well-known for its beaches, soil, horses, diving women, oranges, cactus, and general fertility. As the "Hawaii of Korea", it is also a very popular honeymoon destination. According to legend, the island is dominated by a female spirit presence (or something), so there are a lot of... well... phallic images around to counter-balance that.


I was struck by how lush and green everything was - and how the volcanic stones are just everywhere - in sculptures, steps, stone walls in fields, houses etc. Jeju-do reminds me of so many other places that I've visited - from Belize to Mexico to Florida to New Hampshire. But it really made me think of Niagara Falls, in the idea that there is a natural attraction that is surrounded by tourist traps - just that Jeju's weirder tourist offerings are more spread out than Niagara's. The idea being a sort of "Here we are now, entertain us" sort of tourism. Some of them are valid - botanical gardens (given Jeju's climate and soil, it makes sense), but some of them are ridiculous (Teddy Bear Museum, two different Miniature Worlds, Museum of Africa, three sex museums....). Given my budget, I was happy to avoid the less-authentic of the attractions.


Wanting to make the most of my Saturday, I headed east, and "chased brown signs" (brown sign = tourist destination) until I found Yakcheonsa, which is supposed to be Asia's largest temple. Having seen the Todaiji temple in Nara, Japan, which is HUGE, I would have to agree. And, there are plans to expand it too. Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised by the size and splendour of Yakcheonsa, but since it is such an admittedly modern construction, it still just isn't as nice as Todaiji.



I continued riding, along cliffs and islands with names like Oedolgae, until I got to Seogwipo, admiring the views, the palm trees and the flowers, but cursing the overcast sky. Finally, I bought some food (yay the kitchenette!) and headed back to my hotel.

The next day was Sunday, and there was so much to do and see! I'd been in touch with my friend Garrett and knew that he would be at Hyeopjae Beach, having befriended some guys who run a banana-boat rental place. We hadn't managed to connect the day before, and I was looking forward to meeting up with him.


I started off riding around the resort town of Jungmun, which seemed very upscale, with its palm-tree lined streets and exclusive resort hotels. The sky was BLUE! The weather was gorgeous (but dressed in jeans and a leather jacket meant I was a sweaty girl for most of the day).


My first stop was Cheonjiyeon waterfalls and gorge. I walked along sweet little boardwalks through the forest, down into the gorge to various waterfalls (reminded me of Belize and New Hampshire), and over an ornately boobalicious bridge to a small pagoda and park. As I walked, I chatted with a few people (the old "Where are you from?" routine...) and noticed that almost all of the women were wearing those ridiculous stilettos and limping along - and it was still morning. Anyway, I loved loved loved the trees covered in moss and vines, and I felt like I was getting a taste of what I might see in Taiwan in September, what with all the tropical-ness.


From Jungmun, I headed west, towards Sanbang-san. At one point, I had Halla-san in the rearview, Sanbang-san on my right and the ocean and beach on my left. It was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I stopped at Sanbang-san to take a look around, but didn't see much of interest (I realize now that I missed an absolutely gorgeous temple complex located half-way up the mountain), except some souvenir kiosks and some horses all saddled up and standing under the hot hot sun for tourist photos (dress up like a cowboy and take a picture). Poor things! I decided to leave that unpleasantness behind me and ride up around the Yeongmori peninsula, which was one of the highlights of my trip....


It was really amazing, a narrow concrete "road" twisting up along the edge of a cliff (actually an inactive volcano). The water at the bottom of the volcanic cliffs was super clear, but I could see no way of actually getting down to the water.


As I was leaving to go off to the next spot, I saw an old lady come out of the water, dressed in a rubber diving suit. I couldn't believe that I'd simply stumbled upon one of the legendary divers of Jeju. These women, often older ladies, dive down to get... uhhh... shellfish??... but without any scuba equipment. It's a traditional job that is disappearing (they used to number in the thousands, now only a few women still do it), and I was lucky enough to even watch another lady out in the water, diving and surfacing, diving and surfacing.


And on the road again, this time to see a traditional dwelling, formerly the home of an artist known as "Chusa" who was exiled to Jeju. Apparently, he was quite famous and did a lot of "calligraphy art". The house was mud and volcanic stone and .... included a "sh*t-pig" enclosure. One of the delicacies of Jeju is pork made from pigs that are fed on human excrement. No, I am not kidding. Yes, I am glad that I don't eat pork. Anyway, the enclosure has a sort of rectangular toilet-y thing at one end and a little pig house at the other. So, yeah...


By this time, it was early afternoon, and time to meet up with Garrett at Hyeopjae Beach, on the west side of the island. After getting a bit lost (but not really minding), I found my way to a glorious beach of white sand and black volcanic rocks, absolutely full of people swimming with their clothes on, such is the Korean way. I mean, swimming with layers of clothes on - like even wearing hoodies and stuff. Since I hold the firm belief (no doubt inherited from my mother) that the only thing one should wear on a beach is a bikini, I changed and lolled around on the beach until I was positively pink (note to self: bring suntan lotion next time). After two hours, including talking to a banana-boat guy, I still hadn't found Garrett, and decided to head out to find something a bit less elusive (or so I thought): Halla-san.


Riding on various glorious highways, I explored some of the less-travelled paths (or so it would seem) of Jeju, but all without actually getting to Halla-san - I kind of circumnavigated it instead. I passed horse farms (including some that looked remarkably like the Kentucky cliche of white fences and rolling hills), went through a magical forest, and on and on until I reached the south-east seaside of Namwon. Feeling tired after an entire day of travel, with a sunburn on my cheeks and noting that the sun was probably going to start setting soon, I decided to head for home.


About ten kilometres from my hotel, I came to an intersection with a flashing orange light. I checked, and began turning left, when a car arrived... I braked, she braked, and we hit with what I can only describe as being an anti-climatic thud.... and I'm not just saying that for my mother's sanity. My bike wobbled and tilted over as her car rolled forward, and my rearview mirror scratched her door. My first reaction, after "OH MY GOD!!!!!" was "Hey, that wasn't so bad... Thank God there's nothing wrong.". The lady and her entire extended family got out of her car (sort of like a clown car - how many family members can you fit into a car???) and surrounded me, everyone talking at once.

And then I tried to move my bike.

I dragged it over to the sidewalk, looked at the front tire, sat on the sidewalk and just started crying. The entire front end of the bike was twisted, with the tire pointing one way and the handlebars another. Meanwhile, the lady was yelling at me for not having a license plate, demanding to see my passport (????) and calling 47 people at once on her cell phone. Her two little kids (who were of course not wearing seatbelts but standing on the back seat) kept wandering over to look at me, her husband arrived with a guy with a sparkly tie and there was another woman there too.

And then the police arrived.

Fortunately for me, the lady and her husband spoke English, and we were able to get everything sorted out regarding exchanging information. Her husband, Sparkly Tie and one of the police officers (who didn't really care about the lack of license plate....) looked at my bike, and started going over my options. And here's where it starts to suck.

I could get the bike fixed and take it home. One police officer went to a nearby motorbike mechanic shop and found that, surprise surprise, it was closed because it was Sunday evening. This would have meant leaving the bike where it was, taking it to the mechanics the next day and then going back to Mokpo. I would also have had to manipulate the spacetime continuum in order to be back home in time for my camp orientation - oh, and did I mention that I only had about $150 left? My mind was racing as I tried to find solutions - Garrett was still in Jeju, but I had no way to reach him; I could leave the bike to be fixed, then come back next week - which would have been ridiculously expensive; I could have, I suppose, called Jessica's friend Dan, and worked something out with him, but that I had never actually met him and it would still necessitate a return to Jeju to pick up the bike, which once again would have meant spending more than the bike was worth to get it back.

And so, I had to abandon my bike.

I don't even want to describe how I felt. Leaving the motorbike on the side of the road because of a small repair and poor timing .... if I had been on the mainland of Korea, if I could have made a deal with the (unfortunately closed) mechanic, if I hadn't had to get back home for the camp orientation, if I hadn't forgotten my credit card at home... there were so many conditions that made this the only logical option. And I hated that.

The police were super friendly and drove me back to my hotel (hence the ride in the police car), even calling a translation service to find out if I needed help, and giving me their contact numbers in case I needed to get in touch with them again. But what could they do?

Monday, I got up and started figuring out how to get home. And here comes the "This is why I love travelling in Korea" part of my post. My minbak lady got me a taxi to a nearby, very posh, resort hotel, which had a shuttle service to the Jeju airport from where I'd be able to take a taxi to the ferry. Because it was a Monday, I'd have to take a different, more expensive ferry back to Mokpo, which I'd known when I made my reservation and budgeted for.

But... Airport??? Hmmm....

Getting to the airport, I ran to the Departures desk. There was a plane leaving for Gwangju in 15 minutes (I kind of felt a bit Amazing Race-ish), for only about $10 more than the ferry I would have had to take. So, I flew back to Gwangju, caught the bus to Mokpo, and made it home in only a few hours....

Up until the events of Sunday evening, I had a great time in Jeju. It is a really amazing place, and a place that I'd love to visit again one day.


In losing my motorbike, I've also lost my amusement for the summer. I had grand plans of traveling around to different parts of Korea this summer, and seeing bits that I hadn't yet explored. I guess I can still do that, but it will have to be by bus.

Guess which one is me....

This is a pic I took a few weeks ago, on a hike with my school....

Yes! I finally have my camera cord and can now commence a mass upload of pictures from Canada (including family, friends and new baby Cohen), and a few random Korea pics.

You'll just have to wait until I get back from Jeju.

Polyglot World

Yesterday, I rode through the rain on my motorbike to buy my tickets for my trip to Jeju. There was another foreigner at the counter who was also buying a ticket for Jeju, but he was trying to do so in heavily French-accented English. The lady behind the counter kept asking him "Hand-eu pone?" which is Konglish for cell phone. I looked over at them and asked him (in French) if he had a cell phone. He shook his head and I told the lady behind the counter "Opsoyo" (Korean for "don't have"). Out of relief (I am sure) and shock (a language other than Korean or English???), everyone broke out into hilarious spontaneous applause. And so it continued with a sort of English-French-Korean-Konglish "conversation" of sorts until it was all sorted out.

This afternoon, I arrived from playing "Red Rover" and "Blob Tag" with my Grade 5 students (Note to self: Korean children HATE holding hands with the opposite gender) to find 2 secretaries, the principal and 2 workmen in my language lab, installing an air conditioner.

Sidenote: WOW. I get an aircon in my classroom! Ummm... not to sound like an ingrate, but you DO realize that today is the last day of school and I won't be back here for over a month??? Okay, uh, just checking. Thanks though! I would have loved having it there for the past few weeks, I can tell you!

So, one of the workmen said something in Korean about "mul" and the 2 secretaries looked confused and the principal left and I said "water?". And everyone seemed surprised that I understood. So, the workman came over to me and said "Habla espanol?" and I was like "un pequito" and he explained something, in Spanish, about needing water to pump through the system or something. And then he asked me where I was from and I realized that I was now having a typical "Korean" conversation, but in Spanish!

So, yeah. I got to brush the rust off my French AND dig waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back for a few words of Spanish, and all in the space of just a few days. Oh, and I got air conditioning in my classroom!!

At the movies....

Last night, I went to see the latest Harry Potter (umm, Harry Potter and the... ummm... Something something...whatever, not important). It was rather okay, but obviously not a stand-alone movie. It also felt a bit like all the actors were like "Hey, Harry Potter, guess who is still after you?". It makes me wonder why JK Rowling didn't come up with other enemies for HP to fight, since the whole "Harry has visions/nightmares for 2 hours before fighting Voldemort in the last scene" thing is getting a bit tired.

Going to the movies in Korea is a rather interesting experience in itself. First off, the seats are assigned to you, you can buy squid as a movie-time snack, and NOBODY HAS ANY MOVIE THEATRE ETIQUETTE!

Most English-language movies that are shown in Korea are subtitled, which is great for me, since I can effectively ignore the Korean text at the bottom of the screen and just pretend that I am watching the original movie. This is not so convenient for the 4-year olds in the audience who can't read. Because, guess what? They get bored and fidgety. Then, they kick the seats, whine and are general nuisances until their parents send them off to run around the theatre on their own!

The Korean obsession with cell phones is well-documented. It should not be surprising, then, to find that Koreans don't feel the need to turn off their cell phones or refrain from texting during the movie. Picture a nice dark theatre, and then a bright cell phone screen shining just in your peripheral vision.

Conversations at normal volume (is there even a word in Korean for "whisper"?) and giggling at strange times, tooth-sucking and smacking on snacks, the dreaded "yobosayo?" on a cell phone, noisy yawning, and don't even get me started on the post-movie bathroom visit, where the concept of waiting in line and "first come, first served" is completely thrown out the window in favour of "every man for himself"....

Why does this even surprise me? The movie theatre etiquette is pretty much what goes on in any public place - be it the train, the bus, a graduation ceremony or a shopping mall.

I remember a friend of mine who visited Japan and noticed that conversations ceased as soon as one entered an elevator. Once the elevator door opened, they resumed. He asked a friend of his why this was and the guy said that given Japan's population density, you didn't infringe on another person's comfort while in an enclosed space. This is certainly not the case in Korea, where the high population density seems to have translated as "Hey pal, I'm going to suck on my teeth and/or spit and/or burp and/or fart and/or yawn at 120 decibels and/or smack on my gum and/or talk on my cell phone and if you happen to be within 3 feet of me, you get to share in the experience". But I also wonder, how much of this is the rural Jeollanamdo factor? Nobody seemed to be chatting up a storm on the Seoul subway, even though every single person had a cell phone....

In other news, there are only three more days left of school and I am saying goodbye to lots of folks who are leaving for the summer. I am psyched about my upcoming trip to Jeju (on a ferry full of tooth-sucking, ddeok-smacking ajummas, no doubt), and have decided to join JP and one of his friends on the tour to North Korea at the beginning of August. Other than that, my summer will be one of day tripping around Korea and hopefully seeing bits of it that I haven't yet had a chance to visit, until I go to my English summer camp at the end of August.

Seoul and Karen

So on Saturday morning, I was up at stupid o'clock to catch the first train out of Mokpo to Seoul. It's the KTX high-speed train and it's a really nice ride (if you're not sitting behind 4 loud children, beside a man who smells - no reeks - of garlic and in front of someone who starts off the ride by chewing and smacking on his snack... sigh).

I got to Seoul and headed straight for What the Book, where I dropped a ton of money on everything from prizes for my top students to the Lonely Planet Middle East (Good news - it's very possible to see Turkey, Syria and Jordan in only a few weeks. Bad news - it's nigh on impossible to get a visa for Syria when you are not in your home country... sigh). Then, I headed to Starbucks to wait for Karen.

It was so great to see her again - we hadn't seen each other since April, when we both left Suncheon - and it was great to catch up. We went for lunch at an Indian buffet, then headed to a part of Seoul that I didn't even know existed, but is now my favourite place - around Sinchon and the University. We got funny photo booth pics taken, then wandered around a street that looks like I thought Harajuku would look like in Tokyo but didn't. Uhhh, to clarify - it's like crazy shops and freaky dressed people and even stores like American Apparel and Dr Martens. Yay.

After some Mexican food (and Haagen-Dazs ice cream, yum), we met up with Tony, Eric, Kim and Eric, who I'd met on numerous occasions in Suncheon/Gwangyang. We headed out to a few bars, including an 80s dance bar (where Eric and I burned up the dance floor), a Morocco-inspired nargeleh lounge type place and an underground place with live music.
It was all just great fun.

The next day, Karen and I went for coffee, then decided to use the few hours I had left in Seoul to go to this great store that she knew of around Myeong-dong. My flip-flops (that Nina had bought me in Bali) broke, and I ended up wandering around Seoul in thick plastic "bathroom sandals" that I'd, uh, stolen from the hotel. Anyway, the store in Myeong-dong was wicked awesome... full of Japanese pop-culture t-shirts. I picked up one with female Anime super heroes on the front and a panther on the back. There were tons of weird t-shirts, but I just couldn't afford to get any more. It's definitely a place to go back to. Yes, Bridget, the next time I go, I will get you something.

I was suppose to meet up with my friend Jongwon, so I said goodbye to Karen and Tony and went to meet up with him. After waiting for 45 minutes, I gave up and headed to the train station. As luck would have it, we were both there, but missed each other because I, apparently, can't read English and was waiting at the wrong spot.

I got back to Mokpo, feeling tired from too much food, drink, dancing and shopping in Seoul, but also refreshed from being "out of Korea" - Seoul is *not* Korea to me. And, while it is hard to know that another friend is leaving Korea, I know that Karen is starting on the next chapter of her life... one that will hopefully bring her lots of success. Karen is always going to be "the girl I went to India with", and I can only hope that technology will help us always be a part of each other's lives.

The Taj in the background:

Sitting on the Taj Mahal:In the Amber Fort in Jaipur:

On a camel in the desert outside of Pushkar:

Finding our way in the Tokyo subway:

Princess Tour!

North Korea???

Follow this link and tell me if you think it's worth it - I would be going during the more expensive time (520,000 Won + about 100,000 Won to get to Seoul and back - that's just under $750 Cdn).

It would be my only trip this summer...

Dinosaurs, Speeding Tickets, Fajitas, Rings, Grasshopper Moment

I'll admit that I've been putting off writing a blog because I've got so much to say.... and I've been too busy lately to really sit down and write it all out (well, busy outside of work, since school life is still mostly teaching in the mornings and chatting on msn in the afternoons...).

Let's do this in order, shall we?

Dinosaurs: Christa and I have been taking our bikes out about 1 or 2 times per week. We've explored the area around Mokpo, and I've got a good idea now of how to get myself around and/or out of the city. Last week, we decided to "follow a brown sign" (brown signs point to the tourist destinations here - they are often hilariously inaccurate) and headed to the "Dinosaur Footprints" somewhere around Haenam (to amuse myself, I keep singing the OutKast song "Hey ya!", but change the lyrics for "Hae-nam!". It's fun. Try it.). It was a gorgeous afternoon/evening. Without too much ado, we found our way to the glorious dino prints, only to find that the museum was closed. We took turns posing with the big dino statues in the parking lot, then decided that we were starving and headed back to the village/one-lane road that was near the dino museum. After driving up and down THE road, looking at all the closed shops and restaurants and wishing that we could find some kimbap, Christa stopped and asked for directions from a random guy. Of course, we still didn't get it and kept driving up and down the street until a car drove slowly past me, with a woman leaning out the passenger window, motioning for us to follow. The guy that Christa had asked earlier was driving and they brought us to a (closed??) restaurant, where the lady made us some kimbap and ramyan. Still, you know... surreal.

It seems like, as soon as you step out of your "safety zone" here, something weird just seems to happen to you.... It gets to the point where these things are just par for the course. And what makes it weird is comparing it to "What if this had happened to me in Canada?", and realizing how different the outcome would have been. This brings me to my next part: Speeding Tickets.

On Saturday, Christa, Garrett and I decided to head out west from Mokpo, instead of south. As we rolled along, Christa realized that something was wrong with her bike, so we pulled off the highway and into the feeder lane for a truck weigh-in station. We knew that the guard at the weigh-in place would be able to help us, so we went up and introduced ourselves with a garbled (in Korean) "Hello. Friend. Motorcycle. Problem. Cell phone? Mechanic". Before we knew it, there were four (4) guards standing around our bikes, sucking their teeth and checking out what was wrong with Christa's bike. Her speedometer cord had somehow wrapped itself around the thing that holds the front wheel on... or something. Anyway, the guards headed back into the guard house to call, and I followed, because I am curious/nosy. The guard house was one room, equipped with a wall of TV screens showing the highway at various points, there were 2 computers, one big screen TV (for entertainment), 2 couches and bits of highway safety equipment (like fluorescent vests and lit up stick things). One guard was on the phone for us, one was playing solitaire on the computer, one was polishing his shoes, and one was going outside every 30 seconds to smoke a cigarette (It's reassuring to know that English teachers from outside Korea are not the only ones who get bored at work sometimes....). As we waited for the mechanic to arrive, eating ice cream that one of the guards went to the store to get for us (!!!), we had a chance to really study our surroundings.... one of the TVs was hooked up to a speeding camera, and every so often a little "police light" icon would pop up on the screen and show the picture of the vehicle, how fast they were going, their license plate etc... Trucks passed by continuously, being weighed, and NOBODY paid the slightest attention to what was going on. Why they needed four people in a fully-automated guardhouse is beyond me... Anyway. The mechanic arrived, and they "fixed" the bike. Christa decided to turn back to Mokpo anyway, leaving Garrett and I to ride around the country roads (eventually making it to Wolchulsan) on our own. On our way, we "followed a brown sign" to something called "Prehistoric Dwellings" or something, which was two thatched shacks in the middle of a field that we explored a bit, noting that they were absolutely infested with huge spiders, but also noting that it was way cooler inside the shacks than outside.

It's nice to know that I'll be able to get to a place like Wolchulsan on my own now. This summer, it seems like everyone is leaving to go back to Canada/the USA, and I'm going to be mostly alone in Mokpo once school finishes next Friday (Anyone feel bad for me??? Anyone???).

So, Saturday evening was spent eating Fajitas at Jens and Randi's place in celebration of the 4th of July. See, English teachers in Korea are not all from Canada. Actually, it's funny, because I find that there are way more Canadians in Mokpo than in Suncheon, where there are a fair number of people from the US, South Africa, the UK and Australia/New Zealand - to the point where I was, for example, one of only two Canadians in my TKD class last year. Jens and Randi put on a great Mexican fiesta, complete with homemade fajitas, and managed to fit 20-odd people into their small apartment (they are in Brent and Steph's old place). Jessica and Monique stayed at my place that night. They have both renewed their contracts, but will be moving from Gwangyang and Yeonsanpo to Mokpo next August. I'm quite happy about that fact!

On Sunday evening, I convinced Jen that we needed to go for another hike on Yudalsan - which is fast becoming my favourite place to be - it's just a great hike/climb, with everything from boulder formations and island views to flowers (that Jen can identify beyond "Orange" or "Pretty") and statues and pagodas and carvings and a souvenir store with dolls made of bird feathers - and then opened one of my sacred pasta sauce packets for supper. We also had wine, chocolate and the best mango EVER, making it the perfect end to a wicked weekend.

My "Tuesday Night Culture Club" made up of me, Mrs Myeong and Ms Cheong is still going strong. I've introduced them to some "Canadian" food, and they have brought me to some really excellent restaurants in town - last night's post-badminton selection was a North Korean style Nang-myeon (cold noodle) shop. Nang-myeon is usually underwhelming, but in this case, they made the noodles in the restaurant using black bean or barley and it was really good. After the nang-myeon, we headed out to a wicked awesome jewellery store to pick out... Friendship Rings! Yeah, okay... I know. Weird. I don't know how I agreed to this. Anyway, we finally agreed on a neat pattern and our rings will be ready in about 2 weeks. While I was in the store, I also fell completely in love with a lavender jade and silver ring, and decided to buy that too!

From there, I headed to TKD, where I had a bit of a "Grasshopper Moment". As we were all doing the splits (HA!), the instructor came over and said "Stretching is difficult for you.". Hmmm... maybe because I've never been able to do the splits in my life???? Then he went on:

Do you know the story of The Stupid Grandfather Who Moved the Mountain? In China, there was a stupid grandfather. Every day, he dug with his shovel and moved some dirt. Everyone laughed at him because they said you cannot move a mountain with a shovel. The grandfather said that he, and his children and his children's children would move the mountain one day.

Then, he looked at my pathetic attempt at the splits again and said, "Try every day and you will achieve". So, this means that getting me to do the splits can be compared to three generations of stupid Chinese people digging up a mountain. Hmmmmm.....

Whew, that was a long post. Gotta get to school now.....

I'm a nerd...

... but like you didn't already know that!

I'm doing this instead of writing a real blog....

Lolling on a Liver

So... today was rather interesting.

I went to school in the morning, knowing full well that I had no classes. I spent the morning planning my Turkey-Syria-Jordan vacation - and hoping that it will work out.

In the afternoon, I went for a hike with all the teachers at the school. I didn't know that we were in for a death march going mostly up a slippery, rocky path. And going down was actually worse because it was misty and raining and slick as all hell. Actually, I kept pace with the leaders, even if I sweated way more than everyone else. At one point, we were at the top of a mountain, standing on different granite towers. Quite exciting. It was a great hike, although the humidity and general moistness of the air (and the fact that Foreigners sweat and Koreans merely glow) resulted in me being pretty much sopping wet by the end. One highlight was when I started stretching my over abused and cramped muscles and everyone was like, "Baginia, stretching!" and they all joined in.

Following the hike, we went out to eat (and drink!). It was quite the feast... sam gyeup sal for the carnivores.. and enough veggies to keep me satisfied. At one point, Mrs Myeong pointed at the meat that was cooking at our table and said what sounded like "dog", but I can neither confirm nor deny that. During the whole supper, people were getting up to serve each other drinks of soju or beer, according to Korean etiquette, meaning that most of the time there were 10 people standing, trying to get 10 other people to drink. Oh, and if you didn't have an empty glass? No problem... just grab the glass closest to you - no matter how clean, who was drinking from it or whatever. I got up a few times to serve my Principal, VP and Head Teacher, just for politeness sake.

Mr Pak, the 3rd grade teacher, kept asking me if I knew such-and-such a band... "Do you know CCR?" and I would sing a few bars of one of their songs. This continued for The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Frank Sinatra, Tom Jones.... but I really impressed him when I was able to sing "Proud Mary". Mr Pak also tried to marry me off to Mr Lee, the new office guy. I christened him (Mr Pak) with the nickname "Joker" because he was also keeping himself amused by speaking English to everyone - including the restaurant staff.

At about 7:30, everyone was hammered, and I decided to try to make a graceful exit. My Principal literally ordered me to sit back down ("Anjeu!") and they told me that I had to come to the Norae Bang (singing room) for "one song".

We got to the Norae Bang and everyone immediately started programming songs in. I got Mr Lee to find "Proud Mary" for me and Mr Pak to sing.... but it was like, the 7th song in. *sigh*

It was rather surreal. Imagine, if you will, the worst staff party where everyone would be embarrassed to see each other the next day because they are all drunk and dancing around with toilet paper wrapped around their necks... and that's pretty much the scene in the Norae Bang. I may never ever forget the vision of my Principal dirty dancing with the old 2nd grade teacher. Anyway....

"Proud Mary" came on and Mr Pak and I finally got to sing "...lolling, lolling, lolling on a liver...", which you all don't care about, except that a year and a half ago, Katrina told me that her father had to sing it when he was in Korea back in the day. So, she cares. I hope.

I'm assuming that I have school tomorrow, and I am also assuming that everyone (except me, because I left at 9:00) will be wickedly hungover. It should make for an interesting day.

What if....

...in January/February, I went to Turkey for three weeks and then Jordan for one week? I'd have to spend a few days in Syria, you know, since it seems to have stuck itself right between Turkey and Jordan.

Acupuncture

So, for those of you who know and love me well, you know how much I loathe needles, hospitals, bloodletting and the like.

Seems strange then, that I would voluntarily go to an acupuncturist. Well... actually, voluntarily is not entirely true. Once again, at the end of a conversation with Mrs Myeong, I was left wondering how I'd possibly agreed to anything.... she's got a real knack. So, somehow, I went from complaining about a stiff shoulder to being brought face to face with needles and bloodletting in a hospital setting. I mean, yeah, I was curious too. And when someone says, "Okay, today you can leave school early and go to the traditional clinic.", well, you just jump at the chance, don't you?

Hmmm....

Actually, I loved it. I knew from other people's experiences at the traditional medicine clinics in Korea that it would be a) bizarre and b) painful. It started with a consultation with the doctor, translated by Mrs Myeong. I was kind of hoping for an old man with a long beard, like an old kung fu master... maybe smoking a long pipe or something and wearing robes. Nope... this guy was young and wearing a white coat. He started by holding my hands and pressing his thumbs into my wrists. Then, I was brought to a room full of curtained-off beds and they gave me a typical hospital shirt to change into. Well, typical except that it had a bunch of zippers on it. This is so the doctor can unzip certain parts, but keep your dignity intact. Might be a nice idea for Canadian hospitals.

Right, so he had this thin plastic tube that he put against my right wrist and the next thing I knew... there was a thin needle sticking out of it! And he tapped it further in, and then twisted it a bit.

And it felt... fine.

And it felt fine as he put needles in my left wrist, my left palm, my right leg and poked randomly at my left shoulder (the stiff one). Then, I was left to think about the fact that I had random needles sticking out of me for about 10 minutes.

I thought about my friends saying how much it hurt and I was like, "Whatever! This is great!". Silly me.

A nurse came by and removed all the needles, then told me to roll over. She unzipped the back of the shirt and thus endeth the enjoyment of the session and thus beganeth the bloodletting.

She used suction cups (???) to grab various bits of my back (I'm currently covered in welts) and on one of them she used a sort of quick blade thing (like what a diabetic might use to test blood sugar by cutting their fingertip) to slice open a few of the welty bits, and then stuck the cup things back on. Then, I was left to think about the fact that I was subjecting myself to medieval torture for about 10 minutes.

The nurse came back and took off all the suction cups - leaving me awash with a sort of endorphinal relief. I sat up, thinking that it was over... Oh, but no. I'd apparently forgotten about the adhesive bits of burning embers that were to be stuck on me next. She came back and forth a few times to add more adhesive embers to my tortured skin, sometimes leaving me to think about the fact that I was kind of feeling better, but maybe it was because I couldn't think about my stiff shoulder when my back was on fire and I had ashes in my hair.

And then.... She put 4 padded cuppy things that were attached to a machine on my back. It was like a massage machine that poked, pummeled and vibrated the burns, welts and slashes on my back. Then, I was left to think about the fact that my burns, welts and slashes were being poked, pummeled and vibrated.

It must be over now, right? Nope. I was ushered upstairs where there was all manner of health machines/torture devices and sat down on a massage chair. Oh! Sweet massage chair! You are the best part of any Japanese airport! Then, I was left to think about how I only had about $10 in my wallet and I'd been there for over an hour and something like this would cost a lot in Canada. In the end, though, the total cost was about $7 CDN. Yeah...

Mrs Myeong picked me up with Ms Cheong and I fed them a "traditional Canadian meal" of salad, white wine and veggie omelettes, starting with some Brie and crackers. I'm trying to convince them that North Americans don't just eat junk food. Not having an oven and not being able to even cook chicken for them (I'm trying to convince them that I am completely veg and not a chicken-tarian, in order to avoid having to eat raw skate or live octopus for lunch at some point) means that my options are somewhat limited.

A Very Memorable Canada Day

Last year, I celebrated Canada Day at Julianna's, surrounded by my original "gang" in Suncheon. I thought that it was one of the most memorable Canada Days I'd ever celebrated, but now, I stand corrected.

On Saturday, Christa, me, Jens and Randi took off on our respective vehicles (Christa and I on our motorbikes, Jens and Randi on their scooter) for Wando, where Stu had organized a party on the beach. Weather reports promised us gorgeous weather for the drive there, and certainly didn't disappoint. As we rolled along country roads and highways, past farms, rice paddies and green mountains, I felt supremely lucky to be able to share this with friends.... not to mention being able to ride a motorcycle merrily along. About halfway along, we were joined by Stu on his BMW, and we continued on to Wando.

We got to the beach at Wando and began setting up camp, designating our clandestine campsite "New Canada". Our happy family also included people of other nationalities (because Canada is open like that, you know) including American, Korean, New Zealandian and Australian. Stu had the foresight to get a large tarp that a few of the boys helped string up between two pagodas on the beach. It was quite the production! As more friends arrived, food and drink was brought out, and our laughter echoed up the beach. The weather was still beautiful, although the waves were a bit rough (a random off-duty Coast Guard guy came over to warn us not to go swimming).

As night fell, we had a campfire on the beach, with delicious curries for everyone, and music - naturally starting with as many national anthems as we could belt out. It was an early night for us all, and everybody was tucked away under tarps or in tents well before midnight. I lucked out again as there was a spare one-person tent that nobody wanted. I'm thankful now that I brought all my things into the tent with me.

At some point in the middle of the night, the wind died down and our tiny collection of tents was bombarded with wind and rain as squall after squall passed over us. One particularly memorable lightning strike must have hit VERY nearby. As the night went on, certain tents were blown over and had to be set up again. The tarp fell. Randi and Jens even moved and slept in the hallway of the public washroom near our campsite. In the morning, everyone had a story to tell.

The tent I was in held up beautifully. And, as I lay there in the wee hours of the morning, listening to the storm pass over me, I realized how neat it was to be camping again, snug in a cocoon that protected me from the elements, and vowed to buy myself a good tent.

Everyone was up VERY early, rolling up wet tents and quickly packing their belongings as we surveyed the damage caused by the storm. Clothes and shoes had been lost in the sand or blown away by the wind. Tent poles had snapped. A guitar was damaged. And, Christa's motorcycle had fallen over and was now lying in the mud. Once we managed to pick it up, we realized that her clutch was hanging off the handlebars by its cord. Not a good sign.

The first group of friends picked up and left, hoping to catch an early bus back to Wando and then home. Only the "bike gang" remained (Stu, Christa, Jens, Randi, Garret and myself), and we began picking up and packing everything into one of the pagodas as we slid around in the mud through the intermittent storms that were still passing. A particularly heavy storm left all of us, except Christa (who was in the other pagoda), trapped in one of the pagodas. As we sat there, wet, we realized that we had pots and pans, a camping stove and some coffee, hot chocolate, Pringles and instant oatmeal... breakfast of champions.

Re-reading this, it sounds much worse than it was. In fact, it was all a bit..I'm searching for the appropriate word... . I mean, yeah, you are wet, your feet are covered in mud, and you're picking up random objects as fast as you can in the rain... but what else are you going to do? Cry? You can't control the weather, or the consequences, but you can control your reaction to it. Our little group just banded together, knuckled down and got everything done, which was amazing. It was a great bonding experience, to say the least!

At one point, we found out that our friends were stranded in a different part of the beach, the bus hadn't come - possibly meaning that the bridge to the mainland was closed!! As the skies cleared, Stu decided to chance it and hopped on his bike, returning with his SUV so that we could pack up all the supplies. We still had the broken motorbike to worry about, but it was decided that Christa would leave her bike in Wando and drive Stu's SUV back to Mokpo.

We went back to Stu's place (Nicola's old apartment), ate breakfast and realized that it was only about 9 am! As the rain started up again, we decided that we couldn't get any wetter and our little convoy decided to head out. With Christa and Randi in the SUV, Garret, Jens and I braved the elements. I can't describe how absolutely soaked through we were. The boys' rain jackets offered little protection against the numerous squalls that we faced, my leather one simply sucked up all the water that fell. Our shoes were full of water that sloshed around our toes and we were so wet that when we dismounted our bikes, we didn't even leave a dry patch on our seats!

And yet, it was beautiful. When faced with a 3-hour long drive in the rain, is it better to bemoan mother nature or admire the green of the fields and the crowns of mist and clouds that hang over the mountains you are driving past?

Arriving home to a purring cat and a hot shower was one of the best moments for me. My entire body ached from the ride, I was so sopping wet that I left a puddle in my front hall. But, I still feel like I'd had a good weekend.

It certainly was memorable. Thank you to Randi, Jens, Christa and Garret for being such an amazing team. There will be other rides, I am sure.

Happy Canada Day!