1) You, automatically, answer the question, "How are you?" with "I'm-fine-thank-you-and-you." Then proceed to ask the rest of the three questions ("How's the weather?" and "What day is it today?") as if you were the fucking old man at the Bridge of Death.
2) You meet someone new and ask them, "Do you teach public or private?"
3) You are on Facebook half the day, at work, and have downloaded AIM, Yahoo Messenger, and Skype on your work computer.
4) New arrivals to Korea, or friends back home, ask you how work is going. And you laugh kind of hysterically.
5) You are starting to believe that knowing "hello" in a foreign language really does mean you speak that language.
6) You have gotten used to wearing high heels walking to work-- and then changing into bedroom slippers when you arrive.
7) You think eating kimchi will absolutely prevent swine flu and may actually cure death.
8) You get excited at the prospect of actually teaching.
9) You are only mildly annoyed at the students' obvious panick when you call on them to answer a question.
10) You want to adopt the kids in your class that pay attention.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Halloween Weekend Part II OR My First Trip to the DMZ
After a nice evening of ridiculous costumes and Indian food and political thought, I awoke early to meet up with the group for the DMZ tour. My friend wasn't going along, it was just me, so he left to go back to the base. I was dressed in my very colorful winter coat, all tie dye colors and embroidered, advertised by the woman selling it as a Prada knockoff. So, as I reflected with another girl waiting for the tour bus, there really weren't many of these out there and the ones that WERE were real and not like MY cheap copy (well, not THAT cheap...)
I was definitely excited about this one. The first time I tried to get an idea of the relationship between North and South Korea....here....was with the son of one of the teachers, about 19 years old, and I asked him if Koreans, meaning South Koreans, ever visited North Korea. He said they did, rather doubtfully, but that there were a lot of restrictions, could only visit certain places and couldnt take anything back, even rocks and stuff, as if it were a national park.
So that was my first glimpse.
My second was visiting the DMZ.
Let me say here, the DMZ is one of the few things in Korea I would have been sad to miss. I mean, I simply HAD to do it. And we all felt a bit nervous with anticipation. After all, we'd none of us been this close to North Korea and all we knew, the majority being Americans, was how evil it was and Kim Il Jong and nukes. It kind of only existed on television and so far away it wasn't even as real as Iraq....
Our first encounter was with a soldier who came on to the bus to check our passports. The tour guide told us to "please not be afraid" which made half the bus laugh, but then we shut up when the soldier boarded... Although one guy snapped a photo of his back.
Our first stop was the Bridge of Freedom, which was next to a small amusement park. I forget the name of the park. But we all had fun running around, happily snapping pictures of the Korean army statues and this sign that said to not take a picture of, and these people on the bridge seemed to be yelling at us, and us standing next to the leaflets and ribbons hanging off the barrier blocking us from crossing further onto the bridge. A Korean guy asked us to take a picture of me and a few other Americans....and so we did and then I asked him to stand so I could take a picture of him.
I bought some fluffy pink and yellow DMZ towels at the next stop, which was a restaurant, typical Korean style of a bowl of boiling tofu soup and a small metal bowl filled with rice and various side dishes, including my favorite kim chee (radishes). I also snapped a picture of a guard who unfortunately turned his head at the moment I took it. Ah, well.
Next, we were shown a movie about the DMZ. Then the screen lifted, magically, and we passed through into the museum. It actually took quite a while to herd us all through and the Koreans being shuffled into the room behind us seemed to get irritated at being delayed in watching the film. The coolest part was the DMZ diorama below the glass floor.
Then we got to pass through the 3rd Tunnel, at least walk down a bit of it to where the first blockade was put up to stop the invasion of North Koreans. The 3rd Tunnel, for those of you, like myself, who were previously ignorant of what the 3rd Tunnel is, is one of four tunnels the North Koreans built under the DMZ towards Seoul. The 3rd Tunnel entrance happens to be closest to Seoul, so that is the one the tour visits. Apparently you could actually feel the rumbling of the ground as it was being built, which was what tipped the South Koreans off in the first place. They discovered it after investigating the disturbance.
The South Koreans think there might be as many as twenty tunnels. I was unclear whether North Korea has acknowledged these. Signs in the tunnel said that North Koreans had painted the walls with coal to claim they were a coal mine. But that they didn't admit to them being a means of invasion.
I was not allowed to take a picture inside the tunnel, but I did snap one of myself, posed Billie Jean style, in a yellow hard hat. At the bottom of the underground pathway to the actual tunnel was a fresh water spring. It reminded me of the Fountain of Youth tourist attraction, which another girl on the trip had coincidentally been to before. She thought it was pretty ridiculous, too, the Fountain of Youth, anyway. Basically, it was this huge room filled with plastic people and maybe cardboard cutouts to make up this silly recreation of an Indian gathering and Pontes discovering the fountain...and in the middle was this rather pathetic little spring. They charged twelve dollars, or maybe sixteen dollars, to go see it.
I passed the fountain, and ducked into the tunnel. I could walk straight up, but it seemed like I'd hit my head (protected with a hard hat of course) if I stood up. I tried to imagine 10,000 soldiers passing through here in one hour. That's the number of soldiers (armed and fully geared, unarmed: 30,000) that could come through in that time. Me and two other Americans characteristically mocked it by pretending to be North Koreans marching through...but it was still intimidating. The Korean War was, after all, real.... Just was a bit closer to me now than it had been before. ...sort of like how the Cold War became more real when I visited Moscow... ...travel really does make the past come alive and the future seem more exciting..
We arrived next at the DMZ itself. There was an outdoor patio with observation platforms. You had to stand in behind a yellow line marked "photo line." If you stepped beyond and tried, they would take your camera and delete the photos. Some of the foreigners in our group tried to be cute by sitting on someone's shoulders...but they deleted the pictures all the same. Or standing on the wall. This happened several times. It was pretty cool to be looking right at the DMZ, but they were nonetheless pictures of a blurry panorama with some fuzzy buildings. Not really great pictures.
Our final stop was a fake train from Seoul to Pyongyang (the North Korean capital). We'd all been promised we could get our passports stamped here, and so, in like manner to little kids getting all excited about getting their "passports" stamped at national parks, we all wanted ours stamped. I'd brought mine specifically for that.
We walked into the "station." It was set up like the Lied's Discover grocery store, or similar. Made up to look like a train station. I took pictures of the departing/arriving schedule. There was this whole map laid out, a railroad system that would transport you all across the Euro-Asian continent, and I think it was part real...but Korea-- South-- couldn't access it because they were blocked, landwise, by North Korea. And as one of the guides mentioned, North Korea was hardly going to let South Korea pass across their country to save on freight costs without severe pressures, probably most effective from China. Cheaper, the guide said, to use freight to ship than boats like they used now.
I took this opportunity to discuss relationships between the divided nation. He seemed to think South Korea was more open to the idea of reuniting (the idea of the two countries reuniting is an idea I've been thinking of ever since I read an article http://tinyurl.com/yffrjhm which talked about how China wasn't as opposed to the concept as they might have been before).
And that they wanted to, but North Korea didn't....how this train could be real, leading from Seoul to Pyongyang, but it would be stopped by North Korea. There is still definite animosity towards North Koreans (as evidenced from rhetoric in the DMZ museum, video, etc about N.K. as "invaders," sneaky, underhanded, brutal...perhaps understandably, but a lot of regular people don't seem to think that is an important as reunification. I think they would like it to happen. I mentioned how "Korea" to Americans means South Korea, whereas North Korea is always referred to with the "North" as a marker. He told me something interesting.
Korea, South Korea, does the same thing. He said Koreans have a word, "Hanguk," for Korea...and this is the word I learned. But Korea also has another word that they use, "Nam-han," "nam" being their word for "south," and "Puk-an," "puk" meaning "north." In my lonely planet Korean phrasebook, North Korea and South Korea are referred to as the latter. But I've never heard any Korean call their country using that name.
I nearly missed my opportunity to check out the waiting platform, so I flew through the gate (the guy who took my 50 won/50 cent USD "ticket" wasn;t even there to tear it), and took a few snapshots of me waiting for a train. I guess, while I was discussing politics with the tour guide, a girl had actually gotten ON a train. And it left with her. She called a friend, frantically, a few minutes later. She had, naturally, no idea what to do. The train was run automatically. One tour guide seemed to think she'd get off okay and be able to take a bus back..or maybe even a subway station close by.
We pulled out of the station in our red tour bus, letting the day sink in. Our tour guide announced that "We only lost one person today." I ate some waffle cookies and slept until we arrived in Seoul. Then I relaxed for an hour, ate dinner with a guy I met on the bus, got a delicious pastry topped with cream and kiwi and mandarin oranges and some apricot tea, and caught the train at the last minute. Where I met two quite interesting deaf Koreans. But that is another story.
I was definitely excited about this one. The first time I tried to get an idea of the relationship between North and South Korea....here....was with the son of one of the teachers, about 19 years old, and I asked him if Koreans, meaning South Koreans, ever visited North Korea. He said they did, rather doubtfully, but that there were a lot of restrictions, could only visit certain places and couldnt take anything back, even rocks and stuff, as if it were a national park.
So that was my first glimpse.
My second was visiting the DMZ.
Let me say here, the DMZ is one of the few things in Korea I would have been sad to miss. I mean, I simply HAD to do it. And we all felt a bit nervous with anticipation. After all, we'd none of us been this close to North Korea and all we knew, the majority being Americans, was how evil it was and Kim Il Jong and nukes. It kind of only existed on television and so far away it wasn't even as real as Iraq....
Our first encounter was with a soldier who came on to the bus to check our passports. The tour guide told us to "please not be afraid" which made half the bus laugh, but then we shut up when the soldier boarded... Although one guy snapped a photo of his back.
Our first stop was the Bridge of Freedom, which was next to a small amusement park. I forget the name of the park. But we all had fun running around, happily snapping pictures of the Korean army statues and this sign that said to not take a picture of, and these people on the bridge seemed to be yelling at us, and us standing next to the leaflets and ribbons hanging off the barrier blocking us from crossing further onto the bridge. A Korean guy asked us to take a picture of me and a few other Americans....and so we did and then I asked him to stand so I could take a picture of him.
I bought some fluffy pink and yellow DMZ towels at the next stop, which was a restaurant, typical Korean style of a bowl of boiling tofu soup and a small metal bowl filled with rice and various side dishes, including my favorite kim chee (radishes). I also snapped a picture of a guard who unfortunately turned his head at the moment I took it. Ah, well.
Next, we were shown a movie about the DMZ. Then the screen lifted, magically, and we passed through into the museum. It actually took quite a while to herd us all through and the Koreans being shuffled into the room behind us seemed to get irritated at being delayed in watching the film. The coolest part was the DMZ diorama below the glass floor.
Then we got to pass through the 3rd Tunnel, at least walk down a bit of it to where the first blockade was put up to stop the invasion of North Koreans. The 3rd Tunnel, for those of you, like myself, who were previously ignorant of what the 3rd Tunnel is, is one of four tunnels the North Koreans built under the DMZ towards Seoul. The 3rd Tunnel entrance happens to be closest to Seoul, so that is the one the tour visits. Apparently you could actually feel the rumbling of the ground as it was being built, which was what tipped the South Koreans off in the first place. They discovered it after investigating the disturbance.
The South Koreans think there might be as many as twenty tunnels. I was unclear whether North Korea has acknowledged these. Signs in the tunnel said that North Koreans had painted the walls with coal to claim they were a coal mine. But that they didn't admit to them being a means of invasion.
I was not allowed to take a picture inside the tunnel, but I did snap one of myself, posed Billie Jean style, in a yellow hard hat. At the bottom of the underground pathway to the actual tunnel was a fresh water spring. It reminded me of the Fountain of Youth tourist attraction, which another girl on the trip had coincidentally been to before. She thought it was pretty ridiculous, too, the Fountain of Youth, anyway. Basically, it was this huge room filled with plastic people and maybe cardboard cutouts to make up this silly recreation of an Indian gathering and Pontes discovering the fountain...and in the middle was this rather pathetic little spring. They charged twelve dollars, or maybe sixteen dollars, to go see it.
I passed the fountain, and ducked into the tunnel. I could walk straight up, but it seemed like I'd hit my head (protected with a hard hat of course) if I stood up. I tried to imagine 10,000 soldiers passing through here in one hour. That's the number of soldiers (armed and fully geared, unarmed: 30,000) that could come through in that time. Me and two other Americans characteristically mocked it by pretending to be North Koreans marching through...but it was still intimidating. The Korean War was, after all, real.... Just was a bit closer to me now than it had been before. ...sort of like how the Cold War became more real when I visited Moscow... ...travel really does make the past come alive and the future seem more exciting..
We arrived next at the DMZ itself. There was an outdoor patio with observation platforms. You had to stand in behind a yellow line marked "photo line." If you stepped beyond and tried, they would take your camera and delete the photos. Some of the foreigners in our group tried to be cute by sitting on someone's shoulders...but they deleted the pictures all the same. Or standing on the wall. This happened several times. It was pretty cool to be looking right at the DMZ, but they were nonetheless pictures of a blurry panorama with some fuzzy buildings. Not really great pictures.
Our final stop was a fake train from Seoul to Pyongyang (the North Korean capital). We'd all been promised we could get our passports stamped here, and so, in like manner to little kids getting all excited about getting their "passports" stamped at national parks, we all wanted ours stamped. I'd brought mine specifically for that.
We walked into the "station." It was set up like the Lied's Discover grocery store, or similar. Made up to look like a train station. I took pictures of the departing/arriving schedule. There was this whole map laid out, a railroad system that would transport you all across the Euro-Asian continent, and I think it was part real...but Korea-- South-- couldn't access it because they were blocked, landwise, by North Korea. And as one of the guides mentioned, North Korea was hardly going to let South Korea pass across their country to save on freight costs without severe pressures, probably most effective from China. Cheaper, the guide said, to use freight to ship than boats like they used now.
I took this opportunity to discuss relationships between the divided nation. He seemed to think South Korea was more open to the idea of reuniting (the idea of the two countries reuniting is an idea I've been thinking of ever since I read an article http://tinyurl.com/yffrjhm which talked about how China wasn't as opposed to the concept as they might have been before).
And that they wanted to, but North Korea didn't....how this train could be real, leading from Seoul to Pyongyang, but it would be stopped by North Korea. There is still definite animosity towards North Koreans (as evidenced from rhetoric in the DMZ museum, video, etc about N.K. as "invaders," sneaky, underhanded, brutal...perhaps understandably, but a lot of regular people don't seem to think that is an important as reunification. I think they would like it to happen. I mentioned how "Korea" to Americans means South Korea, whereas North Korea is always referred to with the "North" as a marker. He told me something interesting.
Korea, South Korea, does the same thing. He said Koreans have a word, "Hanguk," for Korea...and this is the word I learned. But Korea also has another word that they use, "Nam-han," "nam" being their word for "south," and "Puk-an," "puk" meaning "north." In my lonely planet Korean phrasebook, North Korea and South Korea are referred to as the latter. But I've never heard any Korean call their country using that name.
I nearly missed my opportunity to check out the waiting platform, so I flew through the gate (the guy who took my 50 won/50 cent USD "ticket" wasn;t even there to tear it), and took a few snapshots of me waiting for a train. I guess, while I was discussing politics with the tour guide, a girl had actually gotten ON a train. And it left with her. She called a friend, frantically, a few minutes later. She had, naturally, no idea what to do. The train was run automatically. One tour guide seemed to think she'd get off okay and be able to take a bus back..or maybe even a subway station close by.
We pulled out of the station in our red tour bus, letting the day sink in. Our tour guide announced that "We only lost one person today." I ate some waffle cookies and slept until we arrived in Seoul. Then I relaxed for an hour, ate dinner with a guy I met on the bus, got a delicious pastry topped with cream and kiwi and mandarin oranges and some apricot tea, and caught the train at the last minute. Where I met two quite interesting deaf Koreans. But that is another story.
Halloween Weekend Part I
Sometimes I feel a rather desperate urge to get out of Busan...and this weekend, further impounded by the presence of Halloween-- a holiday my poor Korean students sadly know little about other than that their hagwon is putting on a party-- was one of those times.
I hopped on a train Saturday morning to meet a friend, also from Busan, in Seoul. Since she was going to be off on some hike during the day, I met up with another friend who helped me find a hotel in Itaewon, a.k.a. Seoul's foreigner hangout. Notorious for being filled with Westerners and a lot of soldiers, since there is a post right there. Anyway, it began raining as soon as my train pulled in, so we booked it to a hotel first, then off to find food. I'd been craving Indian since the only place I know in Busan has been closed for repairs (or something, I couldn't really read the piece of paper they taped to their sign).
I dressed up as a Catholic school girl. I felt, being a teacher, this was necessary, and my friend was supposed to dress up the same...but we didn't end up meeting here...but that's later in the story. First, must address the important issue of food. We went to this Indian restaurant (so many!) called Agra.
Let me preface this next part by describing the room in which we were seated. It was set aside from the rest of the restaurant (the larger part of the restraurant made to look bigger with mirrors lining one wall). There were only two tables. As we were being seated, I noticed this guy sitting down at the other...and what with the cramped space and knowing how lonely I felt most of the time...I invited him to sit with us. He was American, military..we talked about our experiences in Korea and he seemed to be okay with his time here.
Afterwards, he took off and my friend and I wandered Itaewon enjoying the sights and people. My other friend ended up calling around eleven wanting us to go to the university area to bar hop. But since it was so late and I had to get up early for a last minute DMZ signup, and my friend wasn't allowed in that area (due to military restrictions) after 9pm...we apologized, said we couldn't make it...and I made him discuss Machievelli with me around midnight.
Anyway, that is MY idea of celebrating Halloween.
I hopped on a train Saturday morning to meet a friend, also from Busan, in Seoul. Since she was going to be off on some hike during the day, I met up with another friend who helped me find a hotel in Itaewon, a.k.a. Seoul's foreigner hangout. Notorious for being filled with Westerners and a lot of soldiers, since there is a post right there. Anyway, it began raining as soon as my train pulled in, so we booked it to a hotel first, then off to find food. I'd been craving Indian since the only place I know in Busan has been closed for repairs (or something, I couldn't really read the piece of paper they taped to their sign).
I dressed up as a Catholic school girl. I felt, being a teacher, this was necessary, and my friend was supposed to dress up the same...but we didn't end up meeting here...but that's later in the story. First, must address the important issue of food. We went to this Indian restaurant (so many!) called Agra.
Let me preface this next part by describing the room in which we were seated. It was set aside from the rest of the restaurant (the larger part of the restraurant made to look bigger with mirrors lining one wall). There were only two tables. As we were being seated, I noticed this guy sitting down at the other...and what with the cramped space and knowing how lonely I felt most of the time...I invited him to sit with us. He was American, military..we talked about our experiences in Korea and he seemed to be okay with his time here.
Afterwards, he took off and my friend and I wandered Itaewon enjoying the sights and people. My other friend ended up calling around eleven wanting us to go to the university area to bar hop. But since it was so late and I had to get up early for a last minute DMZ signup, and my friend wasn't allowed in that area (due to military restrictions) after 9pm...we apologized, said we couldn't make it...and I made him discuss Machievelli with me around midnight.
Anyway, that is MY idea of celebrating Halloween.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Sometimes I truly love the language barrier...
A conversation between my friend (네 친구), a --Korean born-- Korean language tutor and a German English teacher (선생님), a conversation that can happen few other places than Korea.
네 친구: I took German classes when I was in high school...there was this phrase (whispers something into the English teacher's ear)
(Short Pause.)
선생님: ...was that English or German?
(VERY brief contemplation.)
네 친구: I don't know.
...the phrase, by the way, was "God is dead," which my other friend, also an English teacher, inferred from his knowledge of German philosophy.
네 친구: I took German classes when I was in high school...there was this phrase (whispers something into the English teacher's ear)
(Short Pause.)
선생님: ...was that English or German?
(VERY brief contemplation.)
네 친구: I don't know.
...the phrase, by the way, was "God is dead," which my other friend, also an English teacher, inferred from his knowledge of German philosophy.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
A REQUEST PLEASE READ
I was calling home the other day, and my mother mentioned that people loved my blog. If you do read this, please let me know by becoming a "follower," or perhaps making comments as to what you liked.
Would be very appreciative, thanks!
Would be very appreciative, thanks!
A Final Note on JeJu
Funny story from the ferry from Jeju Island....the group of foreigners I spent the weekend with booked a cheap group room, something like a 25 person room? I forget the number, but it certainly wasn't reserved solely for us. Koreans are very particular about certain customs, one of the main ones being that you take off your shoe before entering a room. Now, one of the girls forgot and stepped up into the room WITHOUT taking off her shoes, and a Korean woman practically screamed at her to take them off...and for the rest of the night, she glared at my friend whenever she dared peek around the corner where the woman was lying down. Anyway, the funny part is that all the REST of the Koreans left, too. The one even picked up her newspapers and went out. Maybe ten minutes later, a manager type stopped by the room and-- I swear-- the SAME thought went through all of our heads, "Yeah, he must be checking on the foreigners cuz he got a complaint that we were wearing SHOES in the room, so let's pretend we don't know what he wants and act all fake cheery," and in the same breath, in the same fake bright tone, over enunciating, we all went, "Ah-nyang-ha-se-yo!" and the man's face actually LIT up and, in very clear, though quick, English, said, "You speak Korean!" and we sort of shook our heads and he went away.
It's so funny how Koreans think if you know "hello" in their language, you must be able to speak Korean. No, we really just know how to say hello and how much is this and where is the bathroom. But thanks for the confidence.
^_^
It's so funny how Koreans think if you know "hello" in their language, you must be able to speak Korean. No, we really just know how to say hello and how much is this and where is the bathroom. But thanks for the confidence.
^_^
JeJu Island...in more detail...Day Two
Okay, so aside from the usual randomness and wandering, the COOLEST thing we did that day was check out LoveLand. I heard was a statue park...okay, no, they really meant LOVEland. Korea, a country of sexual repression which doesn't even really sell tampons, you can find, but very pricy, small selection, etc., but has, as far as I know, the only park filled with statues of men and women in explicit, and hilarious, sexual poses.
It's the kind of place you really have to experience for yourself, but there were boob hills with nipples on top and a car, rocking ever so slightly, with noises coming from it, though no people inside. It was great watching all the people peering into the car, expecting to find dummies and finding nothing. The best were the "ajamas," the older women who cracked up at every display. I saw a couple pushing their perambulator with their little daughter inside. The woman at the shop demonstrated a battery powered toy that "helped" itself.... It was kind of fantastic, but I don't think I would have appreciated it outside of Korea.
...and then I had a lovely dinner of ribs and cream of broccoli soup. Mmmmmmmmm.....
On the ferry, I learned to play a dice game called Farkle...Rules kind of hard to explain here, but SO much fun. Must play with my students when I get back, as soon as I figure out where to buy six dice of the same color.
Then I pretty much slept, for some reason the ferry kept turning the lights on and off throughout the night, so I slept inconsistently with weird dreams. I caught up on my sleep when I got back home.
Lucy missed me.
I went to the gym.
I met with friend and bought a crepe with a piece of cake in it and a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies at the biggest bookstore in my area.
That is my Chuseok in a nutshell. Tomorrow shall be a day of housecleaning and lying on my bed reading. Shall update if anything interesting occurs.
Reminder: On next trip to JeJu, if such occurs, check out the Teddy Bear Museum and find Zapatos...supposedly near the City Hall. Rumoured (did I just spell that with a "u", yes I did) to have excellent Mexican food, the best in Korea perhaps.
It's the kind of place you really have to experience for yourself, but there were boob hills with nipples on top and a car, rocking ever so slightly, with noises coming from it, though no people inside. It was great watching all the people peering into the car, expecting to find dummies and finding nothing. The best were the "ajamas," the older women who cracked up at every display. I saw a couple pushing their perambulator with their little daughter inside. The woman at the shop demonstrated a battery powered toy that "helped" itself.... It was kind of fantastic, but I don't think I would have appreciated it outside of Korea.
...and then I had a lovely dinner of ribs and cream of broccoli soup. Mmmmmmmmm.....
On the ferry, I learned to play a dice game called Farkle...Rules kind of hard to explain here, but SO much fun. Must play with my students when I get back, as soon as I figure out where to buy six dice of the same color.
Then I pretty much slept, for some reason the ferry kept turning the lights on and off throughout the night, so I slept inconsistently with weird dreams. I caught up on my sleep when I got back home.
Lucy missed me.
I went to the gym.
I met with friend and bought a crepe with a piece of cake in it and a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies at the biggest bookstore in my area.
That is my Chuseok in a nutshell. Tomorrow shall be a day of housecleaning and lying on my bed reading. Shall update if anything interesting occurs.
Reminder: On next trip to JeJu, if such occurs, check out the Teddy Bear Museum and find Zapatos...supposedly near the City Hall. Rumoured (did I just spell that with a "u", yes I did) to have excellent Mexican food, the best in Korea perhaps.
JeJu Island...in more detail...Day One
I meant to go to JeJu Island with a friend...but sometimes you simply cannot wait for people to come along. You have to just do it on your own. So I did, with more or less an idea of what I was going to do...
I met two Korean sisters on the ferry who were very nice and helpful. We communicated in a mixture of English and Korean. Their Korean was better than my Korean, but not by very much. I definitely was able to exercise my knowledge of the Korean language. I communicated, though various means, that I was an English teacher in Busan. The one girl was 21, her sister was younger, but I don't remember how old. She was very giggly and liked to put her hands up to her face, a very common thing among Korean females, it appears. They helped me find a place to charge my phone, which ended up being the kiosk. The man charged me 1,000 won for 40 minutes. It lasted long enough for me to have a conversation later that night with a friend in Seoul. I also, again quite randomly, met up with a group of foreigners, which consisted of Americans, one South African, and one Australian. Five girls and one guy, Korean, though they referred to him as "Mung?" Must find out what this means (note, I hope it doesn't mean what I found online...)
I crashed with the foreigners at their hostel, 12,000 won for the night. Not bad, considering other hostels wanted me to book a 2 person room for 40,000 a night. I chanced it and it worked out all right for me. When we arrived at the hostel, it wasn't quite ready, so we wandered around downtown for an hour. We stopped at a Paris Baguette, oh how convenient those can be!, found everywhere in Korea and having nothing to do with France except that bread is also baked there. I picked up a roll which turned out to be vaguely cheese and herb flavored and orange (I realized in better lighting that the outside of the roll was that same orange colored, I should have suspected it wasn't cinnamon earlier). I also got a small carton of strawberry milk and at the very last second, as I approached the counter, the woman was JUST taking out a tray of hot dogs wrapped in filo dough with what looked to be cheese on top and I just HAD to have one (as did my friend). My second hot dog in Korea. Then it was back to the hostel. We chilled, napped, and around 11? Got up and the first thing we did was try and find the Miniaturized Museum.
We had a generally good time taking pictures of all the miniature landmarks and famous buildings (the Statue of Liberty is much smaller than you might imagine, much smaller than the Eiffel Tower, for example). This girl, Nadia, who I found myself taking pictures with that afternoon, liked to stop at the gift shops. At one, I picked up a small volcanic Buddha statue. The old man behind the counter said something about smiles, and we both thought he meant, did i want a smiling one, and I thought, sure, that would be nice...and he went around, we assumed, to exchange it...but then he sat down on a stone bench and started chipping at it-- and we realized he was actually going to PUT a smile on the little man for me. I videotaped him at work with my pink camera. It really did look much friendlier for the effort, and I thanked him and purchased a heart shaped rock and a couple of cute figureines in addition.
Then, oh!, have to share this. We had passed a go-cart place earlier and the taxi driver wanted to take us there right away, but we said, no, we want to go to the museum first...so the first thing we did after that was the carts. I was actually a bit nervous, having forgotten the last time, if ever, I had done this, but I determined to drive anyway, rather than be a mere passenger. I tried to get the man to videotape, but think that failed. Anyway, I kicked butt. I think I was third to start my car and I definitely passed everyone in the group. I KNOW I lapped the guy at least once in the end, which I think rather pissed him off (in the American sense of the word.) He complained I didn't know how to use the breaks. I did, I just didn't see the point in them. I paid for it, though, marks all over my elbows, a long scratch from my seatbelt, and a decent-sized bruise on the back of my shoulder. Well worth it.
The last sightseeing point of the afternoon was a famous waterfall which fell directly into the ocean. Quite pretty, although too many people to be serene. I could sense it being very romantic at night....
By then, we were starving so we ate at a Japanese restaurant before recuperating at the hostel for the night's adventures.
That night, one of the girls said that we needed to explore another waterfall, which was supposed to be even more beautiful at night, all lit up and gorgeous. We found it.....eventually. I think we followed a sort of snaked around path which took us basically in the opposite direction...but we DID find it, and for 2,000 won, it was worth it. Nice path up to the waterfall, too, with a stepping stone path over water.
After that we took it easy at the hostel, chatting and watching (or half-watching, half-freaking out) I Am Legend. Only it had a crappy ending where Will Smith lives and he and the woman live happily ever after.
I met two Korean sisters on the ferry who were very nice and helpful. We communicated in a mixture of English and Korean. Their Korean was better than my Korean, but not by very much. I definitely was able to exercise my knowledge of the Korean language. I communicated, though various means, that I was an English teacher in Busan. The one girl was 21, her sister was younger, but I don't remember how old. She was very giggly and liked to put her hands up to her face, a very common thing among Korean females, it appears. They helped me find a place to charge my phone, which ended up being the kiosk. The man charged me 1,000 won for 40 minutes. It lasted long enough for me to have a conversation later that night with a friend in Seoul. I also, again quite randomly, met up with a group of foreigners, which consisted of Americans, one South African, and one Australian. Five girls and one guy, Korean, though they referred to him as "Mung?" Must find out what this means (note, I hope it doesn't mean what I found online...)
I crashed with the foreigners at their hostel, 12,000 won for the night. Not bad, considering other hostels wanted me to book a 2 person room for 40,000 a night. I chanced it and it worked out all right for me. When we arrived at the hostel, it wasn't quite ready, so we wandered around downtown for an hour. We stopped at a Paris Baguette, oh how convenient those can be!, found everywhere in Korea and having nothing to do with France except that bread is also baked there. I picked up a roll which turned out to be vaguely cheese and herb flavored and orange (I realized in better lighting that the outside of the roll was that same orange colored, I should have suspected it wasn't cinnamon earlier). I also got a small carton of strawberry milk and at the very last second, as I approached the counter, the woman was JUST taking out a tray of hot dogs wrapped in filo dough with what looked to be cheese on top and I just HAD to have one (as did my friend). My second hot dog in Korea. Then it was back to the hostel. We chilled, napped, and around 11? Got up and the first thing we did was try and find the Miniaturized Museum.
We had a generally good time taking pictures of all the miniature landmarks and famous buildings (the Statue of Liberty is much smaller than you might imagine, much smaller than the Eiffel Tower, for example). This girl, Nadia, who I found myself taking pictures with that afternoon, liked to stop at the gift shops. At one, I picked up a small volcanic Buddha statue. The old man behind the counter said something about smiles, and we both thought he meant, did i want a smiling one, and I thought, sure, that would be nice...and he went around, we assumed, to exchange it...but then he sat down on a stone bench and started chipping at it-- and we realized he was actually going to PUT a smile on the little man for me. I videotaped him at work with my pink camera. It really did look much friendlier for the effort, and I thanked him and purchased a heart shaped rock and a couple of cute figureines in addition.
Then, oh!, have to share this. We had passed a go-cart place earlier and the taxi driver wanted to take us there right away, but we said, no, we want to go to the museum first...so the first thing we did after that was the carts. I was actually a bit nervous, having forgotten the last time, if ever, I had done this, but I determined to drive anyway, rather than be a mere passenger. I tried to get the man to videotape, but think that failed. Anyway, I kicked butt. I think I was third to start my car and I definitely passed everyone in the group. I KNOW I lapped the guy at least once in the end, which I think rather pissed him off (in the American sense of the word.) He complained I didn't know how to use the breaks. I did, I just didn't see the point in them. I paid for it, though, marks all over my elbows, a long scratch from my seatbelt, and a decent-sized bruise on the back of my shoulder. Well worth it.
The last sightseeing point of the afternoon was a famous waterfall which fell directly into the ocean. Quite pretty, although too many people to be serene. I could sense it being very romantic at night....
By then, we were starving so we ate at a Japanese restaurant before recuperating at the hostel for the night's adventures.
That night, one of the girls said that we needed to explore another waterfall, which was supposed to be even more beautiful at night, all lit up and gorgeous. We found it.....eventually. I think we followed a sort of snaked around path which took us basically in the opposite direction...but we DID find it, and for 2,000 won, it was worth it. Nice path up to the waterfall, too, with a stepping stone path over water.
After that we took it easy at the hostel, chatting and watching (or half-watching, half-freaking out) I Am Legend. Only it had a crappy ending where Will Smith lives and he and the woman live happily ever after.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Summar of my Weekend in Jeju...a blur...
My Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving)
Overnight in the ferry...picked a terminal at near random and got the right one, which was good as was running late..splurged on a room with a bed so got my own bunk bed with a pull around curtain...met these two Korean girls, my age, helped me find a place to charge my cell (kiosk, 1,000 Won)...they wanted to take pictures with me in the morning...I gave the one my cell number...met up with a group of Americans, South Africans, and Australians who I spent the weekend with....Miniature Musuem filled with all sorts of minituarized national monuments, friend's quote, "Americans take note, the Statue of Liberty is smaller than you think."...it was, too, compared to the Eiffel Tower, which STILL towered above us...kicked butt at go-carts (who says you NEED to use the breaks on those things?)....checked out a waterfall that fell directly into the ocean...and another one...which we managed to do a sort of winding snake circle towards, kind of in exactly the opposite direction, hard to explain...
I talked to the taxi driver about being an elementary school teacher...banged myself up pretty well at go-carts...interesting old guy carved a smile into my volcanic rock Buddha...I took video...spent money far too freely...took random pictures with various cartoon figures and buildings...slept in a bed both nights...realizing, of all things, am becoming addicted to the triangular musubi (?), rice wrapped in dried seaweed with some kind of filling, and melon ice cream pops, very creamy and delicious...I shall miss having those, cheap, convenient, when I return to...the States?...wherever...
I want to go to Seoul for a day.
Overnight in the ferry...picked a terminal at near random and got the right one, which was good as was running late..splurged on a room with a bed so got my own bunk bed with a pull around curtain...met these two Korean girls, my age, helped me find a place to charge my cell (kiosk, 1,000 Won)...they wanted to take pictures with me in the morning...I gave the one my cell number...met up with a group of Americans, South Africans, and Australians who I spent the weekend with....Miniature Musuem filled with all sorts of minituarized national monuments, friend's quote, "Americans take note, the Statue of Liberty is smaller than you think."...it was, too, compared to the Eiffel Tower, which STILL towered above us...kicked butt at go-carts (who says you NEED to use the breaks on those things?)....checked out a waterfall that fell directly into the ocean...and another one...which we managed to do a sort of winding snake circle towards, kind of in exactly the opposite direction, hard to explain...
I talked to the taxi driver about being an elementary school teacher...banged myself up pretty well at go-carts...interesting old guy carved a smile into my volcanic rock Buddha...I took video...spent money far too freely...took random pictures with various cartoon figures and buildings...slept in a bed both nights...realizing, of all things, am becoming addicted to the triangular musubi (?), rice wrapped in dried seaweed with some kind of filling, and melon ice cream pops, very creamy and delicious...I shall miss having those, cheap, convenient, when I return to...the States?...wherever...
I want to go to Seoul for a day.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
six month mark
Tonight was my six month anniversary in Korea. I spent it, not even meaning to, with a French engineer on Gwangali beach. Drank various cocktails and finished off with White Russians. Sampled the Honey Bread (lots of sweet whipped cream over sweet white bread), chicken nachos, and chicken quesadillas. All quite tasty.
I can't believe it's been six months already.
I can't believe it's been six months already.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Foreign Culture
I spent this evening walking in the downtown of Korea with a Frenchman and a Chinese woman who speaks Korean. I rather love this life.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
In Which I Digress
I realize my last few blogs have been a series of half-finished thoughts, dashed off as I ran off, my rather needy cat very likely whining in the background, or at least mentally preparing herself to begin whining at the sound of my approaching footsteps.
This needs to change.
I hereby endeavor to be better at writing such experiences as Korea has offered me, or that I have, more often, taken forcefully. Korea is not the sort of place that gives you much. This is probably for the best-- I am much more proactive and capable than I used to be. Or, more accurately, more capable than I thought I was. I doubt I have changed much, only realized more. I should give a quiet thanks to the people I have met that have helped me through this.
Oh! I should mention, too, for the very first time in my life I have joined a gym and am going daily. I have, in the span of a week, become deeply addicted. I assume, by the time the euphoria wears off, that I will be disappointed to discover it has become an unfortunate habit and I shall not be able to stop.
I am also attempting to incorporate regular meditation and yoga into my daily schedule. I feel, between that and better diet, I will have taken care of "Self Improvement" in my list of Things To Do. My friend tells me this is what I need, I think he is right.
Next I think I need to Become More Aware. Of...life in general...of what is happening...here in Korea, in the world. I am less and less inclined to grad school, but I am more anxious to find a good seminar which teaches communication. Because I doubt there is much out there in schools that I can learn, that someone else doesn't know already and more fully than myself-- but! I think, if I search and find those people who really inspire, the people that are changing or will change the world, and bring their thoughts and ideas together...create a philosophy that makes the world a better place and more receptive to their ideas and creations...the thought is overwhelming but not impossible.
It is sort of my new mission in life. But if Ayn Rand could do it, then I think I can, too. One based on harmony and creation and progress as the ultimate good. Where making a useful product is the end goal, instead of, as too often seems the case, power.
I know what I want to do...I don't know how....
This post has definitely drifted. I apologize.
This needs to change.
I hereby endeavor to be better at writing such experiences as Korea has offered me, or that I have, more often, taken forcefully. Korea is not the sort of place that gives you much. This is probably for the best-- I am much more proactive and capable than I used to be. Or, more accurately, more capable than I thought I was. I doubt I have changed much, only realized more. I should give a quiet thanks to the people I have met that have helped me through this.
Oh! I should mention, too, for the very first time in my life I have joined a gym and am going daily. I have, in the span of a week, become deeply addicted. I assume, by the time the euphoria wears off, that I will be disappointed to discover it has become an unfortunate habit and I shall not be able to stop.
I am also attempting to incorporate regular meditation and yoga into my daily schedule. I feel, between that and better diet, I will have taken care of "Self Improvement" in my list of Things To Do. My friend tells me this is what I need, I think he is right.
Next I think I need to Become More Aware. Of...life in general...of what is happening...here in Korea, in the world. I am less and less inclined to grad school, but I am more anxious to find a good seminar which teaches communication. Because I doubt there is much out there in schools that I can learn, that someone else doesn't know already and more fully than myself-- but! I think, if I search and find those people who really inspire, the people that are changing or will change the world, and bring their thoughts and ideas together...create a philosophy that makes the world a better place and more receptive to their ideas and creations...the thought is overwhelming but not impossible.
It is sort of my new mission in life. But if Ayn Rand could do it, then I think I can, too. One based on harmony and creation and progress as the ultimate good. Where making a useful product is the end goal, instead of, as too often seems the case, power.
I know what I want to do...I don't know how....
This post has definitely drifted. I apologize.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Long awaited posting...perhaps?
I'm sitting in my apartment, mid afternoon, lazy, cat curled up on the comforter on my bed. She was whining at me a second ago, but I lay down next to her and petted her head, so now she's calm. I haven't been writing much lately, I know but I haven't felt I had much to write about. Let's see, what have I done lately....
I found a pair of cheap shoes today! Not exactly what I wanted, but precisely what I was looking for, and since they were only a few bucks, I bought them anyway. Also a lovely Audrey Hepburneque white knit, oh what's that papery material, summer hat with an oversized brim. Party tonight, sailor theme. Wearing my red and white floral print summer dress and painted my nails a candy cherry enamel red that came out beautifully.
I've been exploring the spas in Korea. Went to one up by Ocheonjang, where the cable car runs up the mountain. Large pool in the middle, very spacious feeling as compared to others, high ceiling, airy. Outdoor pool (a MUST have in a Korean bathhouse). A little girl swam up to me and asked me questions, in Korean, and I responded in kind to the best of my ability. But then I asked her, again in Korean, if she spoke a little English-- and she responded by answering, "Manni (a lot)." We then talked for a few minutes in English, her English was perfect, and then she went off, presumably to go to her mother.
Shall write more later--sorry, off in a rush!
I found a pair of cheap shoes today! Not exactly what I wanted, but precisely what I was looking for, and since they were only a few bucks, I bought them anyway. Also a lovely Audrey Hepburneque white knit, oh what's that papery material, summer hat with an oversized brim. Party tonight, sailor theme. Wearing my red and white floral print summer dress and painted my nails a candy cherry enamel red that came out beautifully.
I've been exploring the spas in Korea. Went to one up by Ocheonjang, where the cable car runs up the mountain. Large pool in the middle, very spacious feeling as compared to others, high ceiling, airy. Outdoor pool (a MUST have in a Korean bathhouse). A little girl swam up to me and asked me questions, in Korean, and I responded in kind to the best of my ability. But then I asked her, again in Korean, if she spoke a little English-- and she responded by answering, "Manni (a lot)." We then talked for a few minutes in English, her English was perfect, and then she went off, presumably to go to her mother.
Shall write more later--sorry, off in a rush!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Magic
There must be something inately in human nature that draws us to the fantastical world, worlds and stories based not on what we see, but what we believe must be true, hence science fiction, religion, fantasy paperbacks, and of course...magicians. Halfway through the show, the emcee called up a little boy to the stage (adorable, he lied and said he was seven when he was nine, so that he could come to the front) and showed him a disappearing handkerchief trick, and of course when the boy opened his hand the napkin was still there, so the emcee told him to put it in his pocket then did an elaborate show in front of the boy while he hid it..but when he turned around and had the boy look at his hand, the little boy actually looked down at his hand, surprised that it was no longer there, so caught up in the magic of it....and, you say, well he was a child, but I don't believe we ever really lose that "childlike" naivity.
But, I am neglecting the show! The Busan International Magic Show. Being so close to Vegas for my formative years, I cannot stay away from the potential of a good magic show. And I was not disappointed. Magicians traveled from Korea, Japan, Germany, Great Britai, Italy, China, and the U.S. The first American had his show translated, but the second communicated entirely in English-- and the crowd went nuts over him, standing ovation and all. His name was Tony Chapman, American, and he did this whole bit around interacting with his "partner" Tony on a TV. Simple, at first, reaching his arm into the screen, but then, a little more complex, dropping a bag of chips into the screen, and then objects started to be thrown back-- and YES I realize this isn't real, but STILL. His timing was impeccable, his charisma charming, and there was plenty of good magic overall. Highly recommend.
Another, so cute, a Japanese kid, he just LOOKED young, whose act revolved around music, CDs to be precise, that he incorporated into his acts. He was advertised as "Gorgeous magician with CDs." Fantastic. He was quite pretty, too.
Another, I believe Japanese magician, charisma felt was lacking, but he did do something unique that I had not seen before. Took a blue balloon and blew it up...and then when it was full of air, "pulled" a blue colored dove as if there were a thin cover across the balloon, which then turned into a white balloon.
A Japanese woman, there are not enough female magicians, act, while simple, contained so much charm I fell in love with her. She had perfect stage presence, every movement clean, precise, carefully chosen as she drew you into a whirlwind, literal dance. Lots of red flowers and birds. Fresh.
I did not like the other American magician as much, but he did do this pretty cool trick where he took a white flower petal and shook it around in a red wine glass and it turned into a real egg-- he even broke it into the glass to show.
I also loved how the other female magician transformed her face, pretty, fresh faced, into a mysterious white and sparkle mask. I don't know how she did it. But of course I didn't.
Tonight I shall return and come back with new tales of the unknown world that is the world of magicians.
But, I am neglecting the show! The Busan International Magic Show. Being so close to Vegas for my formative years, I cannot stay away from the potential of a good magic show. And I was not disappointed. Magicians traveled from Korea, Japan, Germany, Great Britai, Italy, China, and the U.S. The first American had his show translated, but the second communicated entirely in English-- and the crowd went nuts over him, standing ovation and all. His name was Tony Chapman, American, and he did this whole bit around interacting with his "partner" Tony on a TV. Simple, at first, reaching his arm into the screen, but then, a little more complex, dropping a bag of chips into the screen, and then objects started to be thrown back-- and YES I realize this isn't real, but STILL. His timing was impeccable, his charisma charming, and there was plenty of good magic overall. Highly recommend.
Another, so cute, a Japanese kid, he just LOOKED young, whose act revolved around music, CDs to be precise, that he incorporated into his acts. He was advertised as "Gorgeous magician with CDs." Fantastic. He was quite pretty, too.
Another, I believe Japanese magician, charisma felt was lacking, but he did do something unique that I had not seen before. Took a blue balloon and blew it up...and then when it was full of air, "pulled" a blue colored dove as if there were a thin cover across the balloon, which then turned into a white balloon.
A Japanese woman, there are not enough female magicians, act, while simple, contained so much charm I fell in love with her. She had perfect stage presence, every movement clean, precise, carefully chosen as she drew you into a whirlwind, literal dance. Lots of red flowers and birds. Fresh.
I did not like the other American magician as much, but he did do this pretty cool trick where he took a white flower petal and shook it around in a red wine glass and it turned into a real egg-- he even broke it into the glass to show.
I also loved how the other female magician transformed her face, pretty, fresh faced, into a mysterious white and sparkle mask. I don't know how she did it. But of course I didn't.
Tonight I shall return and come back with new tales of the unknown world that is the world of magicians.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Late night ramblings
It is the time of night that I ought to be sleeping and soon, but instead am thinking of my time so far in a foreign place, not the first time of course, but the first time I've lived in a foreign country, the first time I've referred to myself and my fellow colleagues as "expats," all teachers in kind, all relating to the same woes and joys, transient friends, acquaintances, but always the promise of the new, fond memories of the old, which is how I hope to end this journey, well, this part of the journey, before I return to the glitter and excitement of...New York? Most likely. I still fall in love with D.C. every single time I indulge in an episode of The West Wing. Which most certainly is an indulgence, as it is such a far cry from the, from my lowly perspective as a mere English teacher, the laidback atmosphere of Korea. Everything moves in slow motion here, which may be relaxing to some, but only makes me more impatient. If I spoke the language, perhaps things would move quicker, and I am doing my best to overcome this barrier. Somehow, I still get the impression that it isn't simply a matter of language, communication goes beyond words as I can certaintly attest to as a teacher. I can't help but think those of us living in Korea are somehow seperated from the bustle of real life, paid apartments, guaranteed employment, no worries of businesses shutting down, can always pick up a new position somewhere else with little to no trouble.
It's funny how the slow moving aspects are the most convenient, and cheapest, as well. The spas, luxuriate all day if one likes, in hot or cold soothing mineral water, overlook the mountains or the sea....take a moment to, or a half hour, for a deep massage and cooling facial, after which one proceeds to plunge into the cold pool for a sharp dip that wakes one up once again, then lets oneself fall back into a half-sleep in one of the hot pools. And while you will pay dearly for Western food, inferior in quality but just as expensive if not more so, the Korean places are delicious (mashita!) and flavorful and spicy, although not as spicy as the Koreans would have you believe, it won't scorch your insides but you may drink a bit more water than with a more mildly spiced concoction. And the inevitable dish of kim chee to spicen things up, if the food should prove too mild for your taste. Or at any rate, some sort of pickles, which Koreans do feel a very strong need to serve with dishes which both dovetail nicely into the overall meal (some meat dish) or not...such as my spaghetti carbonara from the other night.
Sometimes its nice to just chill with an icy glass of beer on a nice terrace, or drink strawberry juice and eat jam and bread at a book & care, being sure to sit near the windows, in order to people-watch, which really, is the best and maybe only thing to do in a foreign country, or any foreign location that isn't "home." Here the women all wear heels and very short skirts or shorts and long shirts that cover their shoulders.
And now, my very Korean cat, although she speaks English, I'm quite sure, is missing me, so I will take a break from writing for now and get some much needed rest.
It's funny how the slow moving aspects are the most convenient, and cheapest, as well. The spas, luxuriate all day if one likes, in hot or cold soothing mineral water, overlook the mountains or the sea....take a moment to, or a half hour, for a deep massage and cooling facial, after which one proceeds to plunge into the cold pool for a sharp dip that wakes one up once again, then lets oneself fall back into a half-sleep in one of the hot pools. And while you will pay dearly for Western food, inferior in quality but just as expensive if not more so, the Korean places are delicious (mashita!) and flavorful and spicy, although not as spicy as the Koreans would have you believe, it won't scorch your insides but you may drink a bit more water than with a more mildly spiced concoction. And the inevitable dish of kim chee to spicen things up, if the food should prove too mild for your taste. Or at any rate, some sort of pickles, which Koreans do feel a very strong need to serve with dishes which both dovetail nicely into the overall meal (some meat dish) or not...such as my spaghetti carbonara from the other night.
Sometimes its nice to just chill with an icy glass of beer on a nice terrace, or drink strawberry juice and eat jam and bread at a book & care, being sure to sit near the windows, in order to people-watch, which really, is the best and maybe only thing to do in a foreign country, or any foreign location that isn't "home." Here the women all wear heels and very short skirts or shorts and long shirts that cover their shoulders.
And now, my very Korean cat, although she speaks English, I'm quite sure, is missing me, so I will take a break from writing for now and get some much needed rest.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Another lazy Sunday....
It's a lazy Sunday, so of course I'm writing. In the ten minutes I have before Socrates Cafe. I treated myself, a small treat considering the cost, to the public bathhouse yesterday afternoon. I love the peaceful feeling, sitting, relaxing, enjoying the view of the ocean. I must try another someday, but I really do like this one. A little girl kept following me around this time, shy, only 2 years old, but she thought I was pretty. She wouldn't talk to me, though, even though her sister kept prodding her.
Afterwards, I felt I could really treat myself to a nice dinner. Italian, at this lovely restaurant just outside of the spa, and quite reasonable for being Italian. 15,000 won for pasta, "garlic" bread, and dessert. I shall explain the quote marks in a minute. I was naturally hesistant over the pasta, but as it turned out the carbonara sauce was very flavorful and lots of bacon, not the best I've ever had, but good, although the "Pettucini" turned out to be spaghetti (of course!) But the GARLIC bread.... The waiter came by and placed a basket with two grilled butter slices of bread and a packet of strawberry jam. Mildly confused, I spread the jam on the bread anyway and it was quite delicious. But not garlicky. I attempted to present this dilemma to the waiter who proceeded to present me with another portion of jam and bread, which I ate. When I'd finished he recited a list of desserts, coffee, Sprite....and when he got to ice cream, I gratefully said "Yes." (yes, a real desssert!) I sat, there, terrace overlooking the sea, book in lap, gorgeous view, so serene and romantic. And walked slowly, deliberately almost, back to the beach, along the beach, bus home, and read the last of my copy of Siddhartha which I had picked up the other day at the bookstore.
Afterwards, I felt I could really treat myself to a nice dinner. Italian, at this lovely restaurant just outside of the spa, and quite reasonable for being Italian. 15,000 won for pasta, "garlic" bread, and dessert. I shall explain the quote marks in a minute. I was naturally hesistant over the pasta, but as it turned out the carbonara sauce was very flavorful and lots of bacon, not the best I've ever had, but good, although the "Pettucini" turned out to be spaghetti (of course!) But the GARLIC bread.... The waiter came by and placed a basket with two grilled butter slices of bread and a packet of strawberry jam. Mildly confused, I spread the jam on the bread anyway and it was quite delicious. But not garlicky. I attempted to present this dilemma to the waiter who proceeded to present me with another portion of jam and bread, which I ate. When I'd finished he recited a list of desserts, coffee, Sprite....and when he got to ice cream, I gratefully said "Yes." (yes, a real desssert!) I sat, there, terrace overlooking the sea, book in lap, gorgeous view, so serene and romantic. And walked slowly, deliberately almost, back to the beach, along the beach, bus home, and read the last of my copy of Siddhartha which I had picked up the other day at the bookstore.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Korean Rules of Living: Part One
Wear the shortest skirt/long shirt possible, but don't ever show your shoulders.
I basically fail at this one. I don't actually own a pair of shorts at the moment and the only time I wear short short skirts is over jeans (although in Korea its typical to wear them over leggings). I own two sundresses that possess spaghetti straps and a third that is strapless. I am currently wearing jeans, a belt with a really cool interweaving tarnished silver (not real of course) buckle, and a gray spaghetti strap tank top. Very American.
Always keep an umbrella on you, or a parasol to keep the sun off your face.
God forbid any sun should touch your face and ruin your delicate complexion. It's odd to Americans, but paleness is encouraged here. Back home, one is made fun of for being "blindingly white." Here its a bit of a social stigma. It's not good to be too dark. Also, Koreans have a crazy ability to pull out umbrellas from seemingly nowhere, so instead of mass hysteria running around with newspapers over one's head, they actually have full-sized umbrellas. I have yet to master this.
Drink very weak coffee, but strong, frequent alcohol.
I am sure the Long Island Ice teas are stronger here than at home. Perhaps not the other drinks, but Koreans drink in quantity to make up for any lower alcohol content. The coffee however, is mostly instant, served in small paper cups. You press a button on a machine and the cup pops down and the coffee and hot water streams down into it. I've gotten pretty addicted. I'm not sure if the addiction is to the coffee or the machine, though.
To be continued.
I basically fail at this one. I don't actually own a pair of shorts at the moment and the only time I wear short short skirts is over jeans (although in Korea its typical to wear them over leggings). I own two sundresses that possess spaghetti straps and a third that is strapless. I am currently wearing jeans, a belt with a really cool interweaving tarnished silver (not real of course) buckle, and a gray spaghetti strap tank top. Very American.
Always keep an umbrella on you, or a parasol to keep the sun off your face.
God forbid any sun should touch your face and ruin your delicate complexion. It's odd to Americans, but paleness is encouraged here. Back home, one is made fun of for being "blindingly white." Here its a bit of a social stigma. It's not good to be too dark. Also, Koreans have a crazy ability to pull out umbrellas from seemingly nowhere, so instead of mass hysteria running around with newspapers over one's head, they actually have full-sized umbrellas. I have yet to master this.
Drink very weak coffee, but strong, frequent alcohol.
I am sure the Long Island Ice teas are stronger here than at home. Perhaps not the other drinks, but Koreans drink in quantity to make up for any lower alcohol content. The coffee however, is mostly instant, served in small paper cups. You press a button on a machine and the cup pops down and the coffee and hot water streams down into it. I've gotten pretty addicted. I'm not sure if the addiction is to the coffee or the machine, though.
To be continued.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Lotte, Lotte, Lotte, LOTTE
Did I ever update on the last game? I don't remember, my mind is a bit of a blur, but I definitely have the clarity of mind to know that I must absolutely must explicate on yesterday's game. There is nothing, absolutely nothing in this world quite like baseball in Korea, and especially so in Busan. I think that's why I like it, nevermind the sheerenergy generated, the pure excitement, something almost childishly naive in pure.....enjoyment. It's the same quality that reminds me of home, that is Vegas and Nevada and my own sweet little town of Boulder City. I love that in all my travels I have yet to find a place that is like it. Chicago, New York, D.C., sure they're exciting but I've never felt the same uniqueness I feel is fated in an economy that has grown out of nothing and become a worldwide name. Where else can one move between Venice and Egypt via a monorail? And just a few minutes, almost, outside of the city limits and you are lost in a mystical, awe inspiring black velvet world pricked with diamonds and the knowledge that under this sleepy soft blanket, life stirs that only wakens when the sun goes down...and others that will creep out with the rising of the new sun.
But, I should return to the game. Something I might call "tackle football," or a combination between baseball, football, pardon me American football, and hockey. The atmosphere brought back memories of hockey games with my best friend from high school. Two injuries on the visiting team's side (which is crazy in itself, who gets injured in a ballgame?)
Meanwhile, my friend and I are intermittenly snacking on fried chicken dipped in some very odd red sauce, which, while not at all unappetizing, cannot be placed as simple "bbq," or even "sweet and sour." The Korean men below us, typically enough, are sharing fish cakes and, in my memory, have carted over a cooler full of beer (very common at Korean ballgames, and quite likely other kinds as well.) We, however, mostly get overwhelmed in the chants and I attempt to intervweave a Korean grammar lesson into the middle of the game, most of which I will probably forget by the game's end. Still, I pull out my moleskin, so out of place but I don't much care, none of the people around me are exactly watching me, we are, after all, at a game which they are much more interested in--- as am I, for that matter.
Now, let me try to put you in the game. I don't know how it occurred exactly. Perhaps I'm not familiar enough with baseball. Perhaps I glanced away to pick up a piece of fried chicken. But somehow, Garcia (Ga-Ru-Shi-ah) has thrown, thrown his bat and both teams have run out to the field and the Lotte Giants are fighting to hold Garcia back, who is hot and about to throw punches, but manages to calm down eventually. Atmosphere only intensified by a series of plays resulting in bases fully loaded, home runs by the opposing team which literally pained my heart, which was in turn gladdened every time Lotte scored. Then, in the middle of it, it starts raining. And, naturally, a sea of multi-colored umbrellas magically appear, molecules in the air, maybe, coalesce into many umbrella-shaped objects.
My friend asked me if I minded if she left, it was getting very late. But I just couldn't tear my eyes from the field. And, oh yes we went an extra winning, but the Giants pulled through at the very last second!!! Seven to six. I stayed till the very end, at which point Mother Nature graciously fully let loose her latest flood upon this city and I, with what seemed like half the town, scrambled to find transportation home. I caught the very last bus, attempted various conversations with strangers, and crashed, at last, in my very own bed. Woo!!!
But, I should return to the game. Something I might call "tackle football," or a combination between baseball, football, pardon me American football, and hockey. The atmosphere brought back memories of hockey games with my best friend from high school. Two injuries on the visiting team's side (which is crazy in itself, who gets injured in a ballgame?)
Meanwhile, my friend and I are intermittenly snacking on fried chicken dipped in some very odd red sauce, which, while not at all unappetizing, cannot be placed as simple "bbq," or even "sweet and sour." The Korean men below us, typically enough, are sharing fish cakes and, in my memory, have carted over a cooler full of beer (very common at Korean ballgames, and quite likely other kinds as well.) We, however, mostly get overwhelmed in the chants and I attempt to intervweave a Korean grammar lesson into the middle of the game, most of which I will probably forget by the game's end. Still, I pull out my moleskin, so out of place but I don't much care, none of the people around me are exactly watching me, we are, after all, at a game which they are much more interested in--- as am I, for that matter.
Now, let me try to put you in the game. I don't know how it occurred exactly. Perhaps I'm not familiar enough with baseball. Perhaps I glanced away to pick up a piece of fried chicken. But somehow, Garcia (Ga-Ru-Shi-ah) has thrown, thrown his bat and both teams have run out to the field and the Lotte Giants are fighting to hold Garcia back, who is hot and about to throw punches, but manages to calm down eventually. Atmosphere only intensified by a series of plays resulting in bases fully loaded, home runs by the opposing team which literally pained my heart, which was in turn gladdened every time Lotte scored. Then, in the middle of it, it starts raining. And, naturally, a sea of multi-colored umbrellas magically appear, molecules in the air, maybe, coalesce into many umbrella-shaped objects.
My friend asked me if I minded if she left, it was getting very late. But I just couldn't tear my eyes from the field. And, oh yes we went an extra winning, but the Giants pulled through at the very last second!!! Seven to six. I stayed till the very end, at which point Mother Nature graciously fully let loose her latest flood upon this city and I, with what seemed like half the town, scrambled to find transportation home. I caught the very last bus, attempted various conversations with strangers, and crashed, at last, in my very own bed. Woo!!!
Monday, July 6, 2009
A Very Korean 4th of July Weekend
Beer+Soju+Baseball= 4th of July Celebration in the Most Korean Way Possible
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Dinner with Yang Yeon Kyoung
Ugh, today was a miserable run from the school, to the post office, to the bank. After what felt like an eternity--ten minutes, o-ship bun-- I finally explained that I wanted POSTCARDS and TWO letters mailed to America. At which point I had to rush to the bank to meet a fellow teacher to send a few million won back home. I barely made it, but fortunately the bank manager spoke good English and helped me differentiate between the account and routing number on my checkbook (I don't remember that sort of thing.)
After that my friend, at the last minute naturally, cancelled on me, which rather annoyed me, but I was not about to do nothing. I intially meant to take a book to the Children's Park up the street, lovely benches and lots of trees, but it was getting late and there wasn't a whole lot of sun left even considering summer hours.
But it all got better, quickly.
I made an impulsive decision to drop by Yang Yeon Kyoung's house. I trekked up the steep concrete steps, held my breath, and pressed the buzzer. A tinny "Yobuseyo?" greeted my ears, and I replied, "Chloe iyeyo." Yeon Kyoung's youngest brother opened the door.
Yeon Kyoung wasn't due home till 6:30 (at the "hagwon") and so I spent the next hour-ish playing with her brothers and looking at for the return of the girls (her sister, too). I did my best to utilize what little Korean I had in my vocabulary, assisted by my phrasebook. It's actually coming along, and will come along better. I told Yeon Kyoung tonight, "Nanun mae-il jamchim shigan-ae Hangul malhago shipayo." ("Everyday, I want to speak Korean with you at lunchtime.")
I stayed for dinner, which was pork cutlets and some rather delicious side dishes, a salty seaweed which you wrapped around rice with your chopsticks and fried fish cakes in soy sauce.
I relaxed for a bit after dinner, drinking coffee and talking to Yeon Kyoung.
Below is a sample of our conversation, "assisted" by her brother, Jae Eun.
After that my friend, at the last minute naturally, cancelled on me, which rather annoyed me, but I was not about to do nothing. I intially meant to take a book to the Children's Park up the street, lovely benches and lots of trees, but it was getting late and there wasn't a whole lot of sun left even considering summer hours.
But it all got better, quickly.
I made an impulsive decision to drop by Yang Yeon Kyoung's house. I trekked up the steep concrete steps, held my breath, and pressed the buzzer. A tinny "Yobuseyo?" greeted my ears, and I replied, "Chloe iyeyo." Yeon Kyoung's youngest brother opened the door.
Yeon Kyoung wasn't due home till 6:30 (at the "hagwon") and so I spent the next hour-ish playing with her brothers and looking at for the return of the girls (her sister, too). I did my best to utilize what little Korean I had in my vocabulary, assisted by my phrasebook. It's actually coming along, and will come along better. I told Yeon Kyoung tonight, "Nanun mae-il jamchim shigan-ae Hangul malhago shipayo." ("Everyday, I want to speak Korean with you at lunchtime.")
I stayed for dinner, which was pork cutlets and some rather delicious side dishes, a salty seaweed which you wrapped around rice with your chopsticks and fried fish cakes in soy sauce.
I relaxed for a bit after dinner, drinking coffee and talking to Yeon Kyoung.
Below is a sample of our conversation, "assisted" by her brother, Jae Eun.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
A Chill Evening
Tonight Amy came over for chocolate pancakes. She brought over plums and a bottle of hard lemonade. I snapped a pic of her, lying down with Lucy earlier in the evening.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Ah, brinner....
I thought it might be homey to make a traditional breakfast for dinner, slightly Koreanized to include white rice, but then that's just my preference back home. The meal shall include chocolate pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, sticky rice, milk, and orange juice.
Picture to follow upon completion of said meal :)
The Result:
Picture to follow upon completion of said meal :)
The Result:
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Lotte, Lotte, Lotte, LOTTE
If my head weren't splitting, I'd update on tonight's baseball game. LOVE. IT. I HEART LOTTE GIANTS (UH). And Jon Adkins. Of course, I'll marry you.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Dinner with my students
Tonight, Yeon Kyoung's family invited me to dinner at their house. Very near mine, just a few minutes away, under the bridge on the main road. I think I'm falling in love with her, and her sister, too, but Yeon Kyoung especially. She's so understanding, too, of my Korean, and is really trying to help me. We usually just walk around the playground together, speaking alternately in English and Korean. I sometimes wonder if I'm not making something of a pariah out of her, is it cool or not cool to be seen so often with the teacher....? but she adores spending time with me, and I won't ever tell her to get away from me. I like her too much for that.
She and Jee Sook met me near the E-Mart. It was so cute....as I was walking down (they called me a half hour early and asked me to meet them), Jee Sook called me...again...and as soon as she spotted me, started running towards me calling out my name. I couldn't help but smile. I asked her, in Korean, where her sister was...and she pointed around the corner of the shopping mart.
It was cute to watch the two of them running up the concrete stairs, too. Yeon Kyoung gave me a tour of her home (see below).
Later on, she gave me a Korean lesson....
Her mother was so nice, making sure I had everything I could possibly want. For dinner we ate bimbibop (rice with mixed veggies) and a clear soup with seafood and tofu. Also, some salty dried fish, which was absolutely delicious.
Here is a sample of my conversation describing my visit:
Supermodelspy
i just had dinner with my students' family
9:55
Sreneangel
oh yeah?
9:55
Supermodelspy
yeon kyoung and her sister, jee suk
i had fun playing with her brothers too
i kept saying "nanun noru pogu issaiyo," i'm watching you...and doing the bumblebee tickling thing
they thought it was hilarious
...either that, or they were just ticklish
..heheheh
Yeon Kyoung and her mother walked home with me. We stopped at the E-Mart, I thought because her mother needed something for the house--instead, she bought me orange juice. It was a bit shocking, really. I didn't expect anything like that. I had mentioned I would like some juice at the house, which she didn't have, but I assured her water was fine. If anything, I assumed she had bought the juice so she would have some in case I visited again. Which would still have been really sweet of her; this was doubly so.
It's late, though, almost two in the morning, and I should be sleeping.
She and Jee Sook met me near the E-Mart. It was so cute....as I was walking down (they called me a half hour early and asked me to meet them), Jee Sook called me...again...and as soon as she spotted me, started running towards me calling out my name. I couldn't help but smile. I asked her, in Korean, where her sister was...and she pointed around the corner of the shopping mart.
It was cute to watch the two of them running up the concrete stairs, too. Yeon Kyoung gave me a tour of her home (see below).
Later on, she gave me a Korean lesson....
Her mother was so nice, making sure I had everything I could possibly want. For dinner we ate bimbibop (rice with mixed veggies) and a clear soup with seafood and tofu. Also, some salty dried fish, which was absolutely delicious.
Here is a sample of my conversation describing my visit:
Supermodelspy
i just had dinner with my students' family
9:55
Sreneangel
oh yeah?
9:55
Supermodelspy
yeon kyoung and her sister, jee suk
i had fun playing with her brothers too
i kept saying "nanun noru pogu issaiyo," i'm watching you...and doing the bumblebee tickling thing
they thought it was hilarious
...either that, or they were just ticklish
..heheheh
Yeon Kyoung and her mother walked home with me. We stopped at the E-Mart, I thought because her mother needed something for the house--instead, she bought me orange juice. It was a bit shocking, really. I didn't expect anything like that. I had mentioned I would like some juice at the house, which she didn't have, but I assured her water was fine. If anything, I assumed she had bought the juice so she would have some in case I visited again. Which would still have been really sweet of her; this was doubly so.
It's late, though, almost two in the morning, and I should be sleeping.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Spaghetti & Wine
Amy's coming over tonight to make spaghetti with me, refreshingly American, even though you can get spaghetti around the world. Wheat noodles here, however, still strike me as something of a gourmet food item, like cheddar cheese or Reese's peanut butter cups. Those Reese's peanut butter cups! So delicious, something really chocolate, that I think is chocolate before I put it in my mouth and does not fail to disappoint. Far too often in this country, I wander through some market or down some windy road and see some vendor selling a delicate treat which I am sure is chocolate, and is, as a matter of course, red bean paste. I love Asian culture, please don't get me wrong, but dessert is something that Western culture just does better. Cream and butter and sugar and real chocolate in all manners of equally ingenious and mouthwatering designs. Whereas "dessert" here almost requires the presence of rice and red beans. All very well in a savory dish, and even acceptable in certain sweets, but not all the time. I sorely miss a real, chewy, fresh baked brownie with a scoop of the smoothest vanilla ice cream and generous helpings of hot fudge.
She asked me to buy some mushrooms and cream, am not sure exactly what she's planned, but am sure it will be tasty. I bought a bottle of cheap Chilean wine, and will probably introduce her to some old movie with Marilyn Monroe or Cary Grant. I only hope she'll understand it well enough to appreciate the humor, but I am sure I can dig up something in my admittedly meager collection, compared to many, but all carefully chosen. She very much enjoyed Flight of the Conchords on a previous visit, and I may simply resort to that, although "resort" is not the best word, I fairly savor that show. No more than my others, but it is so adorably cute and with that degree of friendship emanting from the two friends that makes a part of me melt. I am a sucker for romance in any form. Hence my fascination with most of the films and shows I obessess over. Romance, intrigue, suspense, wit, good writing...but above all romance.
Lucy is curled up on my couch now. Amy should be arriving in twenty minutes, which leaves me twenty minutes to lie on the couch so that Lucy can curl up with me, as she is always anxious to do. Or I could, in the meantime, study some Korean to prep myself for speaking Korean with Amy tonight, although it is a constant battle between my desire to speak Korean and her desire to simply speak English. My Korean is poor, but it doesn't have to say that way. I plan on becoming fluent, or at least managing survival Korean. Conversational Korean has been something I've been working hard on lately and is my priority, among getting to work and making sure I eat at least two meals a day.
She asked me to buy some mushrooms and cream, am not sure exactly what she's planned, but am sure it will be tasty. I bought a bottle of cheap Chilean wine, and will probably introduce her to some old movie with Marilyn Monroe or Cary Grant. I only hope she'll understand it well enough to appreciate the humor, but I am sure I can dig up something in my admittedly meager collection, compared to many, but all carefully chosen. She very much enjoyed Flight of the Conchords on a previous visit, and I may simply resort to that, although "resort" is not the best word, I fairly savor that show. No more than my others, but it is so adorably cute and with that degree of friendship emanting from the two friends that makes a part of me melt. I am a sucker for romance in any form. Hence my fascination with most of the films and shows I obessess over. Romance, intrigue, suspense, wit, good writing...but above all romance.
Lucy is curled up on my couch now. Amy should be arriving in twenty minutes, which leaves me twenty minutes to lie on the couch so that Lucy can curl up with me, as she is always anxious to do. Or I could, in the meantime, study some Korean to prep myself for speaking Korean with Amy tonight, although it is a constant battle between my desire to speak Korean and her desire to simply speak English. My Korean is poor, but it doesn't have to say that way. I plan on becoming fluent, or at least managing survival Korean. Conversational Korean has been something I've been working hard on lately and is my priority, among getting to work and making sure I eat at least two meals a day.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
a follow-up thought
I am--really-- learning towards the attitude that if it doesn't hurt anyone and makes someone happy, don't knock it.
a response to the situation in Iran
11:56
Chloe Goya
oh, god
i can't take that
and what the hell is up with counting 40 bajillion handwritten ballots in a few hours?
i mean, seriously
i swear to god, journalists today could put two people in a room with a gun, hear a gunshot, open a room to find one guy dead in a pool of blood, the gun lying next to him, and write up a story about the "alleged shooting" by So-and-so
11:59
Sreneangel
mmhmmm
Chloe Goya
oh, god
i can't take that
and what the hell is up with counting 40 bajillion handwritten ballots in a few hours?
i mean, seriously
i swear to god, journalists today could put two people in a room with a gun, hear a gunshot, open a room to find one guy dead in a pool of blood, the gun lying next to him, and write up a story about the "alleged shooting" by So-and-so
11:59
Sreneangel
mmhmmm
Monday, June 15, 2009
Late night adventures in downtown Busan....
Tonight, I left the security of my apartment in search of conversation and pastries. There just isn't any substitute to learning a language other than speaking it. I've just been too scared, not much different, really, than the way my students feel about speaking English. It isn't a matter of simply learning the words-- it's overcoming one's fear of sounding like a blithering idiot in public. Which, frankly, I do. But even so, my brain overwhelmed by masses of meaningless jumbles of mispronounced and misheard syllables, I managed--manage-- to sift through the other person's words and remove a word or phrase, here and there, like a Jenga puzzle piece, the same uncontrollable rush of joy at success, and I respond with an answer which the person understands.
I walked, nowhere in particular, just down the street. I stopped into my favorite bakery, "favorite," in this context referring only to the fact that it was most convenient, all Korean bakeries keeping the same stock of honey cakes, sponge cakes, sugared garlic bread, red bean pastries, and ambigously chocolate delicacies. I attempted to strike up conversation, but got little more than, "How much is this?" Still, I was not to be discouraged.
I next tried a magazine, er, convenience store, again with disappointing results, despite my giving in and reaching for my phrasebook. My stop at the cell phone store gave me much the same results. I was weakened, but resilient. The search continued.
Walking down the street, again aimlessly, I more or less stumbled into a Korean man who I drew, rather firmly, into conversation. The majority of our conversation consisted of stumbling blocks, but I did isolate his request for my age, to which I responded with my American age...he then made some comment about what my age would be in Korean terms, and we parted ways just about that time. My ecstasy at being understood overwhelmed my senses.
I found myself, the phrase being more than usually appropriate as I had no particular destination, and only half conciously became aware that I had stopped, at a rather dark spot of town, a police station across the street. A middle aged couple, and a younger mannish woman, too old, I felt, to be their daughter, sat at a cart eating watermelon. I had a vague plan to pretend I was lost to the policemen, but they saw me looking, probably too intently, at my phrasebook and asked me where I was going. I engaged in conversation with him, told him I was a teacher, that I taught young kids. When the man asked me if I was American, I told him, yes, I was from Las Vegas. He misheard, thought I said "Alaska." That touched me, reminded me of the twins back home, how old were they...? Three? Four? I had Kelsie on the phone. I told her I was going to Moscow, and she, in her four year old wisdom, thought I said "Costco." What was the discussion I had with my friend's friend's son, about wearing his father's shoes? He was so happy I spoke Russian to him, and he looked so ridiculous in those shoes, but so proud at the same time-- and I am distracted.
He offered me a ride home on his motorbike, told his wife, in Korean, that he'd be back in five minutes, it seemed safe enough. I accepted. I don't know how he interpreted the streets between the cart and the E-Mart where I told him to drop me off. I do know that I've never gone from Point A to Point B before in such a way as to incoporate Points C thru Z as well. He must've talked to a half dozen friends, which I desperately tried to catch the gist of and failed.
Now I'm home, typing this, and glancing down at my cat, curled up on my laptop case, sleeping in the light manner that cats have perfected, and chatting with friends in Korea.
I must buy a watermelon soon.
Night.
I walked, nowhere in particular, just down the street. I stopped into my favorite bakery, "favorite," in this context referring only to the fact that it was most convenient, all Korean bakeries keeping the same stock of honey cakes, sponge cakes, sugared garlic bread, red bean pastries, and ambigously chocolate delicacies. I attempted to strike up conversation, but got little more than, "How much is this?" Still, I was not to be discouraged.
I next tried a magazine, er, convenience store, again with disappointing results, despite my giving in and reaching for my phrasebook. My stop at the cell phone store gave me much the same results. I was weakened, but resilient. The search continued.
Walking down the street, again aimlessly, I more or less stumbled into a Korean man who I drew, rather firmly, into conversation. The majority of our conversation consisted of stumbling blocks, but I did isolate his request for my age, to which I responded with my American age...he then made some comment about what my age would be in Korean terms, and we parted ways just about that time. My ecstasy at being understood overwhelmed my senses.
I found myself, the phrase being more than usually appropriate as I had no particular destination, and only half conciously became aware that I had stopped, at a rather dark spot of town, a police station across the street. A middle aged couple, and a younger mannish woman, too old, I felt, to be their daughter, sat at a cart eating watermelon. I had a vague plan to pretend I was lost to the policemen, but they saw me looking, probably too intently, at my phrasebook and asked me where I was going. I engaged in conversation with him, told him I was a teacher, that I taught young kids. When the man asked me if I was American, I told him, yes, I was from Las Vegas. He misheard, thought I said "Alaska." That touched me, reminded me of the twins back home, how old were they...? Three? Four? I had Kelsie on the phone. I told her I was going to Moscow, and she, in her four year old wisdom, thought I said "Costco." What was the discussion I had with my friend's friend's son, about wearing his father's shoes? He was so happy I spoke Russian to him, and he looked so ridiculous in those shoes, but so proud at the same time-- and I am distracted.
He offered me a ride home on his motorbike, told his wife, in Korean, that he'd be back in five minutes, it seemed safe enough. I accepted. I don't know how he interpreted the streets between the cart and the E-Mart where I told him to drop me off. I do know that I've never gone from Point A to Point B before in such a way as to incoporate Points C thru Z as well. He must've talked to a half dozen friends, which I desperately tried to catch the gist of and failed.
Now I'm home, typing this, and glancing down at my cat, curled up on my laptop case, sleeping in the light manner that cats have perfected, and chatting with friends in Korea.
I must buy a watermelon soon.
Night.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Cat Antics
So, I was lying down on my bed, reading about how the Supreme Court clerks drew straws to explain certain sexual acts to the Justices in preparation for an obscenity case, and my cat meows, jumps off the bed, picks up her favorite toy in her mouth and drops it on me. I guess this means playtime.
Monday, June 1, 2009
A Second List
Some Things You Can't Find In Korea
Tacos (and Real Mexican food)
Crest toothpaste
Deodorant
Inexpensive, quality clothing
Tacos (and Real Mexican food)
Crest toothpaste
Deodorant
Inexpensive, quality clothing
North Korea
I'm not overly concerned about a North Korea attack. Perhaps, even living so close, the threat doesn't seem real.
Still, again, not really worried, but I registered with the embassy yesterday, because just in case they do evacuate, they know I'm here.
Still, again, not really worried, but I registered with the embassy yesterday, because just in case they do evacuate, they know I'm here.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Kindergarteners
Visited the kindergarten class today. The kids followed an obstacle course, crawling under the surface of the "water," jumping on lilypad-esque cutouts covered with trash, from which they had to rescue the "fish" and "turtles," then place them in the debris free pond. Adorable.
I love this little girl laughing and getting so caught up in her excitement, she forgets which way she's supposed to go.
I love this little girl laughing and getting so caught up in her excitement, she forgets which way she's supposed to go.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
At last....
I was allowed, for the first time, to teach a group of students in a way that appealed to me, and, so I hoped, to my students. In my usual manner, I must have spent hours crafting a lesson on animals, complete with a slideshow of pictures of animals, improv, songs, a song from Simon & Garfunkel which I played earlier for Kyoung to test her understanding of the lyrics...and then, when I actually left the room with the group of ten volunteers, I did no more than stop by the libaray for a couple of children's books which I read to them, amid much enthusiasm, particularly of my animal noises and special effect sounds. Yes, they were too noisy, but I explained to them afterwards that this new style of teaching would be a collaboration, as much them as me, and that if this were to succeed, I needed their cooperation. I think it sank in that if they were loud, disruptive, inattentive, it would be back to the book, and the threat of this was sufficient to scare them into good behavior. The entertainment provided by my reading aloud to them rather took care of that on its own, but a little warning proved useful; at any rate, they looked nearly panicked at the thought of this treat being taken from them having recieved a taste of it.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Dreams
Weird dreams involving my brothers, amateur productions of Cirque Du Soleil, old college friends, the cast of Flight of the Conchords, and absolutely no kittens, despite that being prominent on my mind when I fell asleep.
Hmmmmmmm...........
Hmmmmmmm...........
A final note for today...perhaps
Oh, I forgot to mention! I spent last night in a "jijimbang," or overnight spa. Will describe that in detail at a later date. On my way home from the spa today, I ran into the girl I've been teaching, and her sister, and a friend, coming back from their art class. She was so excited to see me! She showed me her art when I asked to see it and told me how it was "her dream to be a designer." She mentioned she had an art showing in October and I asked her to be sure to invite me. I'm sure she will, she always follows through when she says she'll do something.
Some random information
Contents of my fridge:
Two kiwis, grapes mostly gone bad, homeade Korean kimchee, anchovies, leftovers from her school lunch, Korean orange juice that needs to be thrown out, half a carton of eggs, assorted juice boxes including one Chilean Grape juice, a large bottle of soy sauce, one bottle Pocari Sweat, condiments from Domino's Pizza, a packet of pickles, one bottle of water, two lemons still in their packaging, a half a jar of strawberry jam, and a half a jar of reduced lemon honey tea.
Two kiwis, grapes mostly gone bad, homeade Korean kimchee, anchovies, leftovers from her school lunch, Korean orange juice that needs to be thrown out, half a carton of eggs, assorted juice boxes including one Chilean Grape juice, a large bottle of soy sauce, one bottle Pocari Sweat, condiments from Domino's Pizza, a packet of pickles, one bottle of water, two lemons still in their packaging, a half a jar of strawberry jam, and a half a jar of reduced lemon honey tea.
Some Company
As lonely as the apartment gets, I thought a cat would be perfect to make things a bit more "homey." Not a kitten, don't have the time to properly attend to a kitten, but a cat. I went to look at one today, Lucy, at my friend's apartment. She's a tortoiseshell, typical of Korean strays, not particularly beautiful, but cute, bobbed tail, yellow eyes. She's not as beautiful as cats we had in the past, certainly nowhere close to my cat Cookie, but more fun, I think. I would love a cat in my home.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Tonight
In class today, we covered giving directions, i.e. "Go straight three blocks, and turn right at the bank." I switched it up sometimes, describing a set of directions, and asking the students where I would be if I had followed them. The students seemed to enjoy that. But one little girl nearly burst into tears when I called on her. So I thought I'd try to take her aside and give her special help. A slight fear that being singled out for attention would only increase her embarrassment held me back, but I took a chance and motioned for her to take my hand and follow me out of the classroom. It paid off. She and I walked around the hallways and practiced "go straight," "turn left," and "turn right," using exaggerated hand/arm signals. By the end, I could gesture and she would tell me the correct directional phrase. She was smiling at the end of class. And I had fun.
During lunch, I had arranged for the sixth grader to come to my class. I was eating lunch, but we still talked and I explained to her the significance of the dove, talked about hummingbirds, and she told me her favorite comic books characters (Spiderman).
Tonight, Eric texted me about dinner. I had already eaten, but asked if he wanted to walk with me in the park, bring along his dogs, chat. I met up with him at the bus stop and had a nice stroll through the Children's Park. All in all a good night.
During lunch, I had arranged for the sixth grader to come to my class. I was eating lunch, but we still talked and I explained to her the significance of the dove, talked about hummingbirds, and she told me her favorite comic books characters (Spiderman).
Tonight, Eric texted me about dinner. I had already eaten, but asked if he wanted to walk with me in the park, bring along his dogs, chat. I met up with him at the bus stop and had a nice stroll through the Children's Park. All in all a good night.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Two Months In
Two months, two friends, a social network, the ability to pay bills, and a promising student who thinks the world of me
Life could be worse, no?
Life could be worse, no?
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Fun Public Humiliation, Etc.
God, people are fun. Just...fun. The Socrates discussion went well; we split into two groups to make it easier. My prominent worries appear to be in everyone's head, at any rate my questions always resonate with the group and make it to the top three topics. Mine actually made it through today, "What does it mean to be an adult?" I'd like to pursue this further, "In regards to children (and those with the mental capacity of children), how much responsbility should be attributed to the child and how much to their environment?" But that will come later.
Adulthood, as it turns out (predictably so), adulthood means different things to different people. One woman, a professed anarchist, believed that an "adult" had a house, family, children, all the typical things of "settling down." Another brought up the distinction between the "private adult" and the "public adult." One might be constrained in one's public life, i.e. women being contained to the household, but still feel an "adult" in private, capable of raising a family, etc, no longer feeling like a "child." A main point of adulthood seemed to be a matter of taking responsiblity, rather than passing it on to a "parental" figure. A woman from England spoke of how 16 year old girls back home would talk about having a kid so that they could get a Council house, etc because if they HAD a child, the government would basically support them. The question, then, became, if you are always taken care of like that, institutionalized, can you ever really be an adult? And so forth.
Afterwards, naturally, we regressed to high school, and ate a lot of ice cream and played Monopoly and Jenga (and held our breaths in anticpation at every block successfully removed). THis group of high schoolers sitting next to us would "punish" the loser by making him or her perform some ridiculous stunt, such as hugging a stranger or asking someone to hit them on the head with a squeaky (I LOVE the word "squeaky") mallet.
At some point, a few of our group had to sing and dance to a Korean pop song in front of a bunch of more sedate tables while wearing wigs. We cracked up, but were generally ignored by the normal chess playing citizens.
When I got back to the apartment, I was still full from the Korean lunch (clear broth with wheat, not RICE!, noodles, kim chee, dumplings), so I ate a bit of glass noodles and beef and chatted with a friend, who as it turned out the next day, was slightly inebriated, but hardly to the point of excess. Slept well, in anticipation of a full week....
Adulthood, as it turns out (predictably so), adulthood means different things to different people. One woman, a professed anarchist, believed that an "adult" had a house, family, children, all the typical things of "settling down." Another brought up the distinction between the "private adult" and the "public adult." One might be constrained in one's public life, i.e. women being contained to the household, but still feel an "adult" in private, capable of raising a family, etc, no longer feeling like a "child." A main point of adulthood seemed to be a matter of taking responsiblity, rather than passing it on to a "parental" figure. A woman from England spoke of how 16 year old girls back home would talk about having a kid so that they could get a Council house, etc because if they HAD a child, the government would basically support them. The question, then, became, if you are always taken care of like that, institutionalized, can you ever really be an adult? And so forth.
Afterwards, naturally, we regressed to high school, and ate a lot of ice cream and played Monopoly and Jenga (and held our breaths in anticpation at every block successfully removed). THis group of high schoolers sitting next to us would "punish" the loser by making him or her perform some ridiculous stunt, such as hugging a stranger or asking someone to hit them on the head with a squeaky (I LOVE the word "squeaky") mallet.
At some point, a few of our group had to sing and dance to a Korean pop song in front of a bunch of more sedate tables while wearing wigs. We cracked up, but were generally ignored by the normal chess playing citizens.
When I got back to the apartment, I was still full from the Korean lunch (clear broth with wheat, not RICE!, noodles, kim chee, dumplings), so I ate a bit of glass noodles and beef and chatted with a friend, who as it turned out the next day, was slightly inebriated, but hardly to the point of excess. Slept well, in anticipation of a full week....
Saturday, May 16, 2009
An Evening in the Rain
Yesterday, I invited Amy, a girl I met through the Socrates Cafe, to come over to my apartment for tea and cookies. She and I had gone together to a dance class in Seomyeon earlier that week, Tuesday night, and had a blast. Choreography to popular songs. Great workout. We played a game of pool after the hour's exertion, which I managed to win properly (not by default because someone sank the 8-ball).
I forgot how much I missed girl talk. She and I sat in the kitchen, listening to the rain, discussing anything from globalization to fortune telling. I turned on the Entertainment channel and she read my palms, told me they showed that I had no strong roots to a particular home, oh, I forget most of it now...but I did tell her I would read her cards.
Hers, like my most recent, was full of trouble, but with the promise of hope. Unlike mine, however, hers stemmed from problems with her mother, whereas mine had more to do with worries of finding romance. Her mother showed up in the cards, as the Queen of Swords. Fragile balances, a tentative belief in control, without true security. She was surprised, like most people I've encountered, at how accurate and personal the reading was to her current situation.
Today, I met Eric for lunch. We got on the subject of art and movies. My knowledge of movies is inferior, or at least more specific, than his, but I did manage to incorporate some theater history, of which he was unaware. He'd never heard of Beckett, for example. I thought Endgame was fairly famous, the one with the irritable parents, Nell and Nagg, who live in trashcans filled with sawdust and occassionally pop out with some grievance, inspired Oscar the Grouch, a rather unpleasant character who lives in a trash can and only comes out to complain.
Anyway, he went off to watch Star Trek, which I expect a review of from him, and I came back to read Love in the Time of Cholera.
I forgot how much I missed girl talk. She and I sat in the kitchen, listening to the rain, discussing anything from globalization to fortune telling. I turned on the Entertainment channel and she read my palms, told me they showed that I had no strong roots to a particular home, oh, I forget most of it now...but I did tell her I would read her cards.
Hers, like my most recent, was full of trouble, but with the promise of hope. Unlike mine, however, hers stemmed from problems with her mother, whereas mine had more to do with worries of finding romance. Her mother showed up in the cards, as the Queen of Swords. Fragile balances, a tentative belief in control, without true security. She was surprised, like most people I've encountered, at how accurate and personal the reading was to her current situation.
Today, I met Eric for lunch. We got on the subject of art and movies. My knowledge of movies is inferior, or at least more specific, than his, but I did manage to incorporate some theater history, of which he was unaware. He'd never heard of Beckett, for example. I thought Endgame was fairly famous, the one with the irritable parents, Nell and Nagg, who live in trashcans filled with sawdust and occassionally pop out with some grievance, inspired Oscar the Grouch, a rather unpleasant character who lives in a trash can and only comes out to complain.
Anyway, he went off to watch Star Trek, which I expect a review of from him, and I came back to read Love in the Time of Cholera.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
What Makes the Job Worth Doing
There are few things right now that make the job worth it. This girl in my sixth grade class does :) Today she got really excited, told me, "I practiced!" and showed me literally pages of her signature. I told her she could have a writing sticker (the kids LOVE stickers). We talked about the Peanuts comic on her pencil case. She knew Snoopy's name, but not the name of the comic, or Charlie Brown, or Woodstock (to be honest, the name of Snoopy's best friend eluded me till I flipped the pencil case over). I explained the meaning of the comic to her, and filled in the missing information of the other characters. She made a point of coming to me to get the sticker after class, almost a gentle chastisement for forgetting. She is absolutely adorable.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Why I Teach
I just wanted to share this...
There's this little girl in my sixth grade class who's simply adorable and very attentive in class. Last class, she finished up her writing early, so I went over and taught her how to sign her name. Today, after class, I caught her before she left and asked her if she remembered how to write her signature. She misunderstood, showed me the copies of her signature from the day before, I covered the previous writing and asked her to write it again, and she did, without hesitating. This coming from an age group that doesn't even know what "cursive" means and, if I asked the same question, would probably respond with a blank stare.
I would love to spend extra time with her, but don't know how. It's not only her, there are a few others that I know could benefit from some one-on-one interaction, or even small group lessons. The ones that would quickly pick up some simple songs or improv games. That's the fun part of the job :)
There's this little girl in my sixth grade class who's simply adorable and very attentive in class. Last class, she finished up her writing early, so I went over and taught her how to sign her name. Today, after class, I caught her before she left and asked her if she remembered how to write her signature. She misunderstood, showed me the copies of her signature from the day before, I covered the previous writing and asked her to write it again, and she did, without hesitating. This coming from an age group that doesn't even know what "cursive" means and, if I asked the same question, would probably respond with a blank stare.
I would love to spend extra time with her, but don't know how. It's not only her, there are a few others that I know could benefit from some one-on-one interaction, or even small group lessons. The ones that would quickly pick up some simple songs or improv games. That's the fun part of the job :)
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
A day on the beach
I gave up trying to coordinate going out with friends yesterday, and after wandering around on the beach for a few minutes and getting some food, it occurred to me I had yet to try the spas here. Took a short taxi ride, only a couple of dollars. The spa was lovely...cold water pool to the far right, several tubs of hot water in ascending degrees of temperature (the hottest being around 43 degrees C), two sauna rooms, and an open air pool with a balcony overlooking the ocean (the whole spa looked out onto the ocean). I got a facial, scrub, and massage as well (the most pricey part of the evening, but worth it). And it would have cost me much more back home. I left around dusk, and walked down a pretty little path to the beach, passing the Salsa club I'd gone to the night before with a couple of friends. Supposedly they have free salsa lessons, but only for another week or so, and it's out of my way, which is disappointing.
I thought I'd play some pool before I went home, so I stopped at a nice, relaxed bar where they played mostly rock music. A Korean girl came up to me and asked if I minded if she and her friends joined in on a game. Before we left, we made plans to meet up again this weekend. Despite living in Korea, I still don't know many Koreans, outside of my school, it's so easy to just spend time with other foreigners.
I thought I'd play some pool before I went home, so I stopped at a nice, relaxed bar where they played mostly rock music. A Korean girl came up to me and asked if I minded if she and her friends joined in on a game. Before we left, we made plans to meet up again this weekend. Despite living in Korea, I still don't know many Koreans, outside of my school, it's so easy to just spend time with other foreigners.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Expats in Korea
It's funny, but I've practically turned into an extrovert in Korea. Every foreigner is immediately visible, and I've begun randomly saying, "Hello," to everyone in the subway, street, grocery store who looks like they'd understand the next several words to come out of my mouth. I met a woman, Jen, who's about to start her Master's in Canada, while attempting to find the correct exit from the Hadan subway station. I gave her my name to look me up on Facebook. She's lived in Korea for four years. I've met a few people through the South Korea FB network, but it's easy enough to approach a foreigner under any circumstance and you end up exchanging info right then and there. Like I would randomly walk up to a stranger back in Vegas or Chicago and say hi. Right.
On a related note, I began "formal" Korean lessons with my co-teacher. I know you can survive just fine knowing nothing but "hello" and "excuse me," but I'm determined to learn the language anyway. I'm pretty good at reading the characters and am getting more fluid all the time.
On a related note, I began "formal" Korean lessons with my co-teacher. I know you can survive just fine knowing nothing but "hello" and "excuse me," but I'm determined to learn the language anyway. I'm pretty good at reading the characters and am getting more fluid all the time.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Reflections
What I need to do most, right now, is consider carefully why I'm here and what I want out of the experience.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
I like Korean food, but sometimes...
Lunch today consisted of breaded chicken, cream of broccoli soup, and fruit salad (and the inevitable kim chee and rice, this time with peas). There were cherry tomatoes in the fruit salad, but I suppose that was acceptable. No seafood, noodles-- and definitely nothing with eyes. It was lovely to have some milk product in the meal.
Another Teaching Post
Taught third graders for the first time today. They haven't yet had the excitment of learning English beaten out of them. It's refreshing. ALL of them are still into learning. Our kids here are well-behaved anyway. I heard horror stories from other teachers where the kids have to punch themselves--hard-- in the head when they do something wrong and the rest of the class counts out loud. It's crazy. All we do here is have the kids clap a certain number of claps, to get their attention focused. Anyway, I must find some Sing-Alongs for them on YouTube, and perhaps teach them some fun childrens' games or tongue twisters or improv. I could have a lot of fun with this job. Just gotta be creative.
Monday, April 13, 2009
A Slight Problem
I'm so used to getting paid biweekly, that it only just occurred to me that I'd only be paid at the end of the month here. Hence, I am down to my last 50,000 KRW. Fortunately, I will soon get my plan fare reimbursed which will put a cool 1.3 million KRW in my account. Too bad it isn't as much money as it sounds...
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Flesh Eating Medicinal Fish
...the Cherry Blossom Festival was nothing to mention, flowers were gorgeous, of course, petals swirling through the breeze like pink faeries, but other than that just a lot of people, walking, eating hot Ramen in the middle of the day, probably spicy, cheap ice cream bars. The only real thing was I met a couple of girls on the way, who I proceeded to have a lovely lunch with and ordered what we thought were individual soup bowls and ended up being full courses. After which we wandered the streets. Attended Easter Mass (it was Easter, I'd forgetten). I felt like a complete idiot, not understanding the rituals OR the language.
But the cool bit was the last part of the evening.
Tonight I discovered the phenomena of "Doctor Fish." I thought my friend was joking when she said you put your feet in water and little fish eat it. But, no, she meant it in all seriousness (now that I think about it, I have heard of this before, where I don't remember).
All I know is I saw a sign for a "Book Spa Cafe," thought it might be relaxing, and next thing I know I'm drinking overpriced cold strawberry juice (you have to order something off the menu to get the spa, which is 2,000 KRW), lathering rolls with butter and a bit of strawberry jam and prepping myself for the lovely experience of getting my feet eaten by minnows. It tickles like crazy, especially if you lift your feet off the tub floor so the fish have access to the bottom of your feet. I squealed like anything at first and kicked my feet around so the fish couldn't find hold-- but I was much better by the end and could hold myself still for a few minutes at a time.
Whole new meaning to the prhase, "Food for the fishes."
But the cool bit was the last part of the evening.
Tonight I discovered the phenomena of "Doctor Fish." I thought my friend was joking when she said you put your feet in water and little fish eat it. But, no, she meant it in all seriousness (now that I think about it, I have heard of this before, where I don't remember).
All I know is I saw a sign for a "Book Spa Cafe," thought it might be relaxing, and next thing I know I'm drinking overpriced cold strawberry juice (you have to order something off the menu to get the spa, which is 2,000 KRW), lathering rolls with butter and a bit of strawberry jam and prepping myself for the lovely experience of getting my feet eaten by minnows. It tickles like crazy, especially if you lift your feet off the tub floor so the fish have access to the bottom of your feet. I squealed like anything at first and kicked my feet around so the fish couldn't find hold-- but I was much better by the end and could hold myself still for a few minutes at a time.
Whole new meaning to the prhase, "Food for the fishes."
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Art and Flowers in Seoul
On a secondary note, today was a dismal failure to reach Seoul, but I will not be stopped tomorrow. Tomorrow, cherry blossoms and international art galore! Korea appears to be chock full of cherry trees, all in full blossom, beautiful pink and white loveliness, and I don't have to travel for THAT, but I do want to take video of the festival and see all the people. City of ten million. Gotta be some interesting characters scattered among them. People, it amazes me everyday, are really so interesting....
I know, I'm neglecting my blog
I am just writing to say that I am keeping a detailed journal. HOWEVER, I have had a difficult time accessing the website. Would post more now, but must prepare for tomorrow's trip to Seoul!
Edit: Can now consistently access blogger site and will be much more punctual in updating journal.
Edit: Can now consistently access blogger site and will be much more punctual in updating journal.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Is there a Korean term for "kawaii"?
Japan may have its "kawaii" culture, but Korea is pretty cute, too. They like Hello Kitty and giggle a lot on their TV shows, and their subway Smartrip cards are shaped like teddy bears and hearts and cartoon whales. I don't mind, I like cute culture. Of course there's the sophistication, too, but there's no denying the, well, cute is really the only word for it. It's a good thing.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Lost
Okay, moment of despair here. Well, despair is really too strong a word, but it’ll serve my basic purpose.
I feel so lost here. As big as the city is, I feel trapped in my small corner of the downtown area. I don’t understand enough to get around on the transportation system, and I’m hesitant to get lost (still worried about my budget and taxis). The few Americans, Canadians I’ve met have spent years here, however, and still don’t speak the language. So I figure if I make a real attempt at learning the language, I’ll be much better off at the end of one, two years. Still don’t know how long I intend to remain abroad.
I feel so lost here. As big as the city is, I feel trapped in my small corner of the downtown area. I don’t understand enough to get around on the transportation system, and I’m hesitant to get lost (still worried about my budget and taxis). The few Americans, Canadians I’ve met have spent years here, however, and still don’t speak the language. So I figure if I make a real attempt at learning the language, I’ll be much better off at the end of one, two years. Still don’t know how long I intend to remain abroad.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
A Note on Korean Currency
Handling Korean currency is very similar to handling the Dot Com Monopoly money. Even when you’re down to your last $1 bank note, it’s still $1 MILLION. That way, even though your grandmother/best friend’s little brother's obnoxious 10 year old cousin is sitting on every square but the Luxury Tax and owns hotels from The Strip (purple) to Desert Inn (green), somehow its not as depressing that you’ve only got your One (Million) Dollar (s). Note: I know foreign money ISN'T Monopoly money, but who can take a thousand ANYTHING note seriously? But back to the point: You have one 1,000 KRW note. Which seems like quite a lot, doesn’t it? So here I am carrying around 40,000 KRW and thinking, I’ve never carried around $40,000 (hah, like I’ve ever held ONE thousand dollars at any given time), Wow, that’s a lot of money. And maybe it is here. An ice cream bar is 1,000 KRW. A trashcan is 8,000 KRW. Really, who can make sense of those kinds of numbers?
Friday, April 3, 2009
I Begin My Work as a Teacher
Taught my first class today. Nice to get into that routine, after the endless hospital, immigration office, and bank visits. The kids are adorable. It’s a bit difficult to know how to teach them, though, because language education starts so much earlier. I can’t teach the 5th graders, for example, like I would 8th graders—but, by 5th grade, they’ve already had two years of English language, just like 8th grade American kids. It’s a balance I’ll have to understand. I hope I make a good teacher. It’s not exactly a trait I possess naturally.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
I Arrive in Korea
Am sitting at my new desk, in my new office. This morning was a whirl of excitement. Got my health check (drug test, blood test, chest x-ray), opened up a bank account, met my principal, was shown to my classroom and given textbooks to study, ate lunch (beef and vegetable soup, kim chee, rice, tempura eggplant, pickled vegetables), and met a Canadian named John who promised to introduce me to some Koreans and Canadians. I guess he’s lived here for two years now. We’re supposed to meet up in front of the E-Mart at seven, because I have absolutely no contact information yet. I haven’t even seen my apartment.
On the whole, I am grateful to have even MADE it to my home town. I nearly missed my transfer flight to Busan when I discovered, an hour before departure, that my light left from a DIFFERENT airport than the one I currently had my feet planted on. Yay! Just what I wanted, not an hour in a strange country, and already I had to figure out the transportation system. Fortunately there was a bus that left for the other airport at just the moment I needed, and I managed to convert a few thousand of their currency with the little cash I had on hand. Thirty minutes before departure, I arrived at the airport, whisked through security—only to be held up by the presence of one aerosol can that security determined to be hairspray (it was actually my mace that my mother had bought for me years ago, never used once, but got in the habit of carrying around anyway, didn’t think would be a problem shipped under). At precisely 8:16, my flight leaving at 8:30, I sprinted to my gate, arriving at 8:19. Eleven minutes to spare. Awesome.
The rest of the day proceeded smoothly. I met my teacher, got a brief tour of the elementary school, got into my apartment, unpacked, ate…hmmm, lunch consisted of soup, rice, kim chee, pickled cucumber, and….some sort of beef dish, I guess. Korean food appears to be mainly rice, kim chee and other pickled veggies, a soup (often seafood), and a beef/veggie dish.
Oh! And I met my first non Korean friend, a Canadian who’d been living in Korea for two years, teaching of course.
Update:
Apartment is lovely. Big room with desk, chair, couch, and bed. Two big closets and a third smaller. Sliding door opens to kitchen area, small table, and washer/dryer. And a bathroom, although with no proper shower. Koreans just use a showerhead. More space than I have at home, although the kitchen isn’t as nice as ours.
Sleep now, although jet lag has yet to catch up with me.
On the whole, I am grateful to have even MADE it to my home town. I nearly missed my transfer flight to Busan when I discovered, an hour before departure, that my light left from a DIFFERENT airport than the one I currently had my feet planted on. Yay! Just what I wanted, not an hour in a strange country, and already I had to figure out the transportation system. Fortunately there was a bus that left for the other airport at just the moment I needed, and I managed to convert a few thousand of their currency with the little cash I had on hand. Thirty minutes before departure, I arrived at the airport, whisked through security—only to be held up by the presence of one aerosol can that security determined to be hairspray (it was actually my mace that my mother had bought for me years ago, never used once, but got in the habit of carrying around anyway, didn’t think would be a problem shipped under). At precisely 8:16, my flight leaving at 8:30, I sprinted to my gate, arriving at 8:19. Eleven minutes to spare. Awesome.
The rest of the day proceeded smoothly. I met my teacher, got a brief tour of the elementary school, got into my apartment, unpacked, ate…hmmm, lunch consisted of soup, rice, kim chee, pickled cucumber, and….some sort of beef dish, I guess. Korean food appears to be mainly rice, kim chee and other pickled veggies, a soup (often seafood), and a beef/veggie dish.
Oh! And I met my first non Korean friend, a Canadian who’d been living in Korea for two years, teaching of course.
Update:
Apartment is lovely. Big room with desk, chair, couch, and bed. Two big closets and a third smaller. Sliding door opens to kitchen area, small table, and washer/dryer. And a bathroom, although with no proper shower. Koreans just use a showerhead. More space than I have at home, although the kitchen isn’t as nice as ours.
Sleep now, although jet lag has yet to catch up with me.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
My Last Day
My last day in the country felt like I had all the time in the world, leisurely, full of good food and good people. My mother, her friend Laurie (who we were staying with in Santa Barbara), and I met up with Laurie’s daughters, who are both a bit older than me. I ordered a Charlotte Raspberry trifle, a cup of tea, and a single scrambled egg for protein (because my mother insisted I have protein in my meal.) The trifle was absolutely melt in your mouth, strawberry mousse, angel cake, raspberry jam center. Ummmmm…
From there, we said goodbye to Alissa and Hayley, and went back to the house to pack my stuff into the car. I sucked it up and called AT&T to cancel my plan—and incidentally incur the $135 early termination fee—and was shocked to learn from the customer service department that, since I was actually moving to a foreign country and that was the reason I could not keep up my phone plan, they would reverse the penalty charge upon receiving proof of residency in the foreign country. Yeah, I’m definitely going to come back to them once I come home.
AT&T- 5 Stars
Travelocity—1 Star
Yeah, so, when I booked my flight, they’d checked the Travel Protection Plan automatically, and I didn’t realize in time. By the time I settled things on Monday, they informed me all they could do was provide me a $25 voucher for a future hotel. Great.
Oh, well, live and learn. We then said our goodbye to Laurie and headed for Los Angeles.
I picked up my passport and visa with virtually no hassle from the Korean Consulate, which left my mother and I hours to kill in L.A. She wanted to go to Venice Beach. It was dinnertime, so we found a lovely little Italian place which let us customize our order (the waiter said the portions were huge and we should split one). Decided on a linguine limone with shrimp, Portobello mushrooms, and asparagus. The sauce tasted like alfredo with lemon zest. Must try at home sometime. The waiter said the trick was to grate the lemon directly over the cream sauce, in order to capture all of the lemon oil released through the grating.
Because the airport is only a ten-minute drive from Venice Beach (with no traffic), we relaxed in the car and watched the sunset and typed out more of my mother’s travel blog on Zion.
Airport highlights: 1) Bought apple juice that tasted just like eating a fresh apple and cost $3.25, 2) Was able to drink said apple juice even though I forgot it was in my bag when I went through security, 3) Memory blanked when going through security for second time after drinking juice and could not remember being given back box of stuff they’d taken from me to inspect (dangerous items like my two silver Fisher Space pens). I freaked out, then found the pens and calmed down. 4) Arrived at Seoul, thirteen hours later, only to find out my transfer was at another airport a half hour away. Discovered this with an hour left before my flight. 5) Domestic airport security panicked over my mace, which I probably shouldn’t have packed, and I never use, but always carry. Figured since I shipped it under wouldn’t be a problem. They thought it was hair spray, but still called over about a dozen officials.
But at the end of it all, my co-teacher, dressed in a bright pink coat, picked me up and all was good.
From there, we said goodbye to Alissa and Hayley, and went back to the house to pack my stuff into the car. I sucked it up and called AT&T to cancel my plan—and incidentally incur the $135 early termination fee—and was shocked to learn from the customer service department that, since I was actually moving to a foreign country and that was the reason I could not keep up my phone plan, they would reverse the penalty charge upon receiving proof of residency in the foreign country. Yeah, I’m definitely going to come back to them once I come home.
AT&T- 5 Stars
Travelocity—1 Star
Yeah, so, when I booked my flight, they’d checked the Travel Protection Plan automatically, and I didn’t realize in time. By the time I settled things on Monday, they informed me all they could do was provide me a $25 voucher for a future hotel. Great.
Oh, well, live and learn. We then said our goodbye to Laurie and headed for Los Angeles.
I picked up my passport and visa with virtually no hassle from the Korean Consulate, which left my mother and I hours to kill in L.A. She wanted to go to Venice Beach. It was dinnertime, so we found a lovely little Italian place which let us customize our order (the waiter said the portions were huge and we should split one). Decided on a linguine limone with shrimp, Portobello mushrooms, and asparagus. The sauce tasted like alfredo with lemon zest. Must try at home sometime. The waiter said the trick was to grate the lemon directly over the cream sauce, in order to capture all of the lemon oil released through the grating.
Because the airport is only a ten-minute drive from Venice Beach (with no traffic), we relaxed in the car and watched the sunset and typed out more of my mother’s travel blog on Zion.
Airport highlights: 1) Bought apple juice that tasted just like eating a fresh apple and cost $3.25, 2) Was able to drink said apple juice even though I forgot it was in my bag when I went through security, 3) Memory blanked when going through security for second time after drinking juice and could not remember being given back box of stuff they’d taken from me to inspect (dangerous items like my two silver Fisher Space pens). I freaked out, then found the pens and calmed down. 4) Arrived at Seoul, thirteen hours later, only to find out my transfer was at another airport a half hour away. Discovered this with an hour left before my flight. 5) Domestic airport security panicked over my mace, which I probably shouldn’t have packed, and I never use, but always carry. Figured since I shipped it under wouldn’t be a problem. They thought it was hair spray, but still called over about a dozen officials.
But at the end of it all, my co-teacher, dressed in a bright pink coat, picked me up and all was good.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Santa Barbara to LA
For future reference: Sunday afternoon is not the best time to drive from Las Vegas to L.A.
Yeah, I should've known this. Oh, well. The drive only took an hour over what it should have, so it was not honestly all that bad. I just could've timed things better. Oh, and it might have been a bit faster except for there was a MATTRESS in the middle of the highway that caused a huge congestion. And someone's dog got run over, and I couldn't help, having seen Watchmen so recently, still in my head, "Dead dog in alley this morning..." Only no blood.
Stopped at a Starbucks (as if I won't find a million of them in Korea), and evidently the girl who took my order for a large (I can't bring myself to order "Venti") Spiced Apple Cider, anyway, apparently she had never known anyone named Chloe. She spelt it like "Zoey," "Cloey."
But we finally pulled into Santa Barbara where my mother's friend lives. She made us jasmine tea and took us to a vegetarian place (which wasn't exactly vegetarian although it did have vegan desserts). Ordered a really fancy spaghetti and meatballs which was a chicken sausage meatball and organic linguini. Delicious garlic bread...ummmmmmm.... Pasta was okay, good, nothing special. Also split a slice of chocolate espresso cake.
And now I better reorganize my bags. Tomorrow I've got to deal with the Korean Consulate. Knock on wood that everything goes smoothly.
Yeah, I should've known this. Oh, well. The drive only took an hour over what it should have, so it was not honestly all that bad. I just could've timed things better. Oh, and it might have been a bit faster except for there was a MATTRESS in the middle of the highway that caused a huge congestion. And someone's dog got run over, and I couldn't help, having seen Watchmen so recently, still in my head, "Dead dog in alley this morning..." Only no blood.
Stopped at a Starbucks (as if I won't find a million of them in Korea), and evidently the girl who took my order for a large (I can't bring myself to order "Venti") Spiced Apple Cider, anyway, apparently she had never known anyone named Chloe. She spelt it like "Zoey," "Cloey."
But we finally pulled into Santa Barbara where my mother's friend lives. She made us jasmine tea and took us to a vegetarian place (which wasn't exactly vegetarian although it did have vegan desserts). Ordered a really fancy spaghetti and meatballs which was a chicken sausage meatball and organic linguini. Delicious garlic bread...ummmmmmm.... Pasta was okay, good, nothing special. Also split a slice of chocolate espresso cake.
And now I better reorganize my bags. Tomorrow I've got to deal with the Korean Consulate. Knock on wood that everything goes smoothly.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Leaving Las Vegas
I said my final goodbyes today to my friends and acquaintances from the Party (i.e Democratic Party work friends). Many of them asked me to keep in touch via various electronic methods. I've already said them to my littlest brother and my dad who are currently off on a Boy Scout camping trip.
I have to finish packing, so I better wrap this up, and perhaps write more once I'm in the air. It is a 17 hour flight, after all, including a 3-hour layover in Seoul.
I'm also redying my roots tonight. I want to look my best when I arrive in Pusan and meet my co-teacher.
I have to finish packing, so I better wrap this up, and perhaps write more once I'm in the air. It is a 17 hour flight, after all, including a 3-hour layover in Seoul.
I'm also redying my roots tonight. I want to look my best when I arrive in Pusan and meet my co-teacher.
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Final Preparations
I just booked my flight to Pusan. About twenty minutes ago. Why the delay, you ask? Yeah, funny story, which means, like all funny stories, it's funny because it's over now.
Before I could finalize a flight, I had to get my work visa. In order to get my work visa.... I had to send over all sorts of documents, including a notarized and apostilled criminal background check. I didn't even know what an apostille was before this. For those of you blissfully unaware of such levels of buracracy, here is a detailed explanation.
Apostille: (noun) Additional authentication required for international acceptance of notarized documents including (but not limited to) adoption papers, addidavits, birth certificates, contracts, death certificates, deeds, diplomas, and degrees, divorce decrees, incorporation papers, marriage certificates, patent applications, powers of attorney, and school transcripts. Instituted by 'The Hague Convention Abolishing the Requirements For Foreign Public Documents' of verification by multiple authorities. As prescribed by the convention, an apstille (French for notation) is a preprinted small (minimum 9x9 cm) form having ten numbered items of information with blank spaces to be filled in by the designated authority in the issuing country. It is obligatory upon every signatory country to accept apostilles of the other signatory countries. The apostille is notarized by your home state's Secretary of State.
Yep. I am officially not a criminal. Also I graduated from college.
After getting through the masses of paperwork, I narrowed it down to my visa application, Notice of Appointment from the Korean Ministry of Education (MOE), my official contract, and...rather significant...my passport. I mailed that off Express mail on Thursday to arrive at the Korean Consulate General in LA on Monday.
Monday, I call the Korean Consulate. It's not there. By Friday, it's still not there. I call fifty million people at the Post Office to demand where the hell my passport is and, no, "It's somewhere floating in the mail system," is not good enough. I'm slightly worried, after all, I'm supposed to be in Korea that next Wednesday. In desperation, I make a final call to the consulate-- and it's there. Thank God. I'd be pissed if I lost my passport with its cool shiny visa stickers and an attached invitation from the Russian Embassy to visit Moscow (my old babysitter works at the Embassy now in HR).
I decide it's best to simply drive to LA, because now that I know where it is, I'm not risking losing it again. I can fly straight out from LAX.
I buy my ticket, proceed to have a quick panic attack, and begin my final preparations. I guess it's time to pack.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Korea, Here I Come!
OHMYGODI'MGOINGTOKOREA!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yeah. I neglected to mention here that I've been accepted for a position teaching English in the public school system in Busan, South Korea.
I probably should have done so.
They pay for my airfare, housing, a month's paid vaction, paid sick leave, holidays, and 1.8 million SKW per month. Yay, I'm going to be a millionaire! (1.8 million SKW translates to a grand....$1200, but still.) It's exciting, and everyone has been so supportive-- work, family, friends. They all think it'll be a great experience. I even know some people who have worked/know people who worked/currently work in Korea. I know almost nothing of the language, but at least I can recognize the Korean alphabet. It's a start.
God, I'm going to be halfway around the world. It's a different day there now. I don't even know what they drink. I don't really know what their culture is like. I don't know very much about the weather. I don't play StarCraft.
I just hope I like the people. One thing I've found, traveling, people are the same everywhere you go. They just call things by different names.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
China
I am, more than likely, going to be teaching English in South Korea for a full year.
It's a bit of a scary thought.
My only experience with Asia, thus far, has been a three-week trip to China. I remember getting lost with my friend, Kim, in....oh, God, I can't even remember where....some "small" city north of Shanghai. I committed the name of the bar street to memory and repeated it to the cab driver, who nodded and drove off with the two of us. Every other time we'd been in a cab, it had been day, and the cabs were lucky to be moving at all. Not so this time-- the driver careened through the small, twisty streets-- and finally stopped, abruptly, in a dark, residential area. Kim and I looked at each other nervously, and stepped out of the cab. Several of the neighbors came out, and one woman motioned with her hands if we needed a place to sleep. The cab driver, figuring this wasn't where we wanted to be, hadn't moved. I tried to explain, in Chinese, what we wanted, and he said something, to which I nodded, just grateful we were getting out of there. He took us to the train station. At this point, we gave up and handed him the hotel card. Back at the hotel, we copied down the street name and just gave him that. Success! We stepped into a techno bar and ordered a grasshopper and a beer and proceeded to get hit on by a couple of Koreans who we abandoned to go dancing in the upper level of the club. And came back, and crashed.
Another time, we visited the town of Dali. My Chinese professor, who turns into a five year old boy when he comes home, ran around to all of us, nearly flinging us with a plate of watermelon. None of us really trusted it, having been warned by our professor (of all people), not to eat from the vendors. Poor Kim got attacked by a dog and had to be taken to a Chinese hospital. Despite her insistence that she'd just been vaccinated and her fear of needles, the doctor administered a rabies shot anyway. Meanwhile, a boy sat in the room, his leg bleeding, and another man came into the waiting room and vomited. Kim wanted to go home.
I think I might recall some more memories from past travels at a later time.
It's a bit of a scary thought.
My only experience with Asia, thus far, has been a three-week trip to China. I remember getting lost with my friend, Kim, in....oh, God, I can't even remember where....some "small" city north of Shanghai. I committed the name of the bar street to memory and repeated it to the cab driver, who nodded and drove off with the two of us. Every other time we'd been in a cab, it had been day, and the cabs were lucky to be moving at all. Not so this time-- the driver careened through the small, twisty streets-- and finally stopped, abruptly, in a dark, residential area. Kim and I looked at each other nervously, and stepped out of the cab. Several of the neighbors came out, and one woman motioned with her hands if we needed a place to sleep. The cab driver, figuring this wasn't where we wanted to be, hadn't moved. I tried to explain, in Chinese, what we wanted, and he said something, to which I nodded, just grateful we were getting out of there. He took us to the train station. At this point, we gave up and handed him the hotel card. Back at the hotel, we copied down the street name and just gave him that. Success! We stepped into a techno bar and ordered a grasshopper and a beer and proceeded to get hit on by a couple of Koreans who we abandoned to go dancing in the upper level of the club. And came back, and crashed.
Another time, we visited the town of Dali. My Chinese professor, who turns into a five year old boy when he comes home, ran around to all of us, nearly flinging us with a plate of watermelon. None of us really trusted it, having been warned by our professor (of all people), not to eat from the vendors. Poor Kim got attacked by a dog and had to be taken to a Chinese hospital. Despite her insistence that she'd just been vaccinated and her fear of needles, the doctor administered a rabies shot anyway. Meanwhile, a boy sat in the room, his leg bleeding, and another man came into the waiting room and vomited. Kim wanted to go home.
I think I might recall some more memories from past travels at a later time.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
A New President
I have officially survived DC on the day of the Inauguration. A million plus sheep (a.k.a. people), half the Metro stops shut down, rumors of a woman killed by a train, snipers on the rooftops waving to the crowds below.
Having said that, Oh. My. GOD! I am still trying to absorb what happened. We have a new President!!! One I can respect and admire...and...and...(attempts to calm self down.)
The moment Obama formally accepted the presidency, I got so excited (despite the fumbling of the oath by the Chief Justice) that I literally jumped up and wrapped myself around my friend and squeezed for a full minute before I could make myself let go.
And immediately ran back to the Smithsonian to defrost my toes and pee.
The other highlight was half-walking, half-sliding across the half-frozen reflecting pool in front of the Capitol building. I was terrified that the ice would break. I did get some amazing pictures. Blonde hair and all.
Now I just want to curl up on a couch and watch Wall-E.
Having said that, Oh. My. GOD! I am still trying to absorb what happened. We have a new President!!! One I can respect and admire...and...and...(attempts to calm self down.)
The moment Obama formally accepted the presidency, I got so excited (despite the fumbling of the oath by the Chief Justice) that I literally jumped up and wrapped myself around my friend and squeezed for a full minute before I could make myself let go.
And immediately ran back to the Smithsonian to defrost my toes and pee.
The other highlight was half-walking, half-sliding across the half-frozen reflecting pool in front of the Capitol building. I was terrified that the ice would break. I did get some amazing pictures. Blonde hair and all.
Now I just want to curl up on a couch and watch Wall-E.
Monday, January 19, 2009
A Change
If I do not record my thoughts here, I will have only myself to blame when I find myself with no memories. Tomorrow history will be made, and I will be a part of it. Our country will inaugurate its first black President, the first black leader in a non predominantly black county. How crazy is that. I will be there, probably miserably cold, with literally millions of people, while history is made.
In honor of this momentous occasion, I dyed my hair blond yesterday. I wished it to be ala Jessica Alba, although who knows what the color will actually turn out to be. (it was no one's fault, least of all Melissa's, when we ran short on bleach and my hair came out darker than I intended.)
Melissa is the girl I am staying with, I should mention. I flew in on Thursday and her boyfriend, Oliver picked me up. I met them while I was dating a friend of theirs during my internship in DC two summers ago. She is absolutely fabulous, and he's not half bad ;)
Here I am going to break to remind myself of my brief trip to New York
On Friday, I got up early and Melissa drove me to the bus stop. Or at least tried to. We got to the right street, but for the life of us could not find the bus. I mean, it should have been obvious. You can't miss a bus, right? I called up the New York office, since the DC line wasn't picking up, and the woman on the other end informed me in a bored, irritated voice that she didn't know how to tell me where the bus was. So I called the 1-800 number-- and got the SAME lady. Who screamed at me that she was in New York and she had no idea where the bus was in Baltimore. Melissa and I affectionately termed her "the crazy bitch lady." We found the bus by sheer luck, driving away, saw a white bus with a Chinese guy next to it, yelled out, "Are you going to New York?", he nodded, I jumped onboard.
The first thing I did, after I showered of course, was what I always do when I first get into the city. I wandered through Central Park, people-watching. I stopped at a soup place and got a bowl of curried chicken tomato soup with basmati rice (after failing to find a hot dog vendor).
Then I walked down Broadway, checking out the shows. At 44th, I saw a Sephora and, almost impulsively, decided I needed a makeover so that I looked nice for the theater that evening. It was practically evening by then. A woman applied different looks to my eyes, dramatic purple, cat's eye, smudged black, and settled on a mix between the cat's eye and the smudged black shadow. It looked fantastic.
I practically had to run back to the apartment in order to get back before Bill and Dave got home from work. I just barely had time to stop for feminine supplies and eye makeup remover.
I dressed into my black, embroidered dress, black suede boots, and rabbit fur coat. I looked pretty good, and Bill said so. The performance was Speed-the-Plow and the cast was William H. Macy (Pleasantville), Raul Esperaza, and Elisabeth Moss (Zoey from West Wing). Raul Esperaza had a perfect deadpan delivery of the best lines.
The next day, I visited the Whitney Museum. The best exhibit was a wire sculpter/engineer named Alexander Caldera. His work I can best describe as "balanced imbalanced motion." People in poses just at the most awkward moment of the motion. Pigs fucking. A mobile with two balls, one swinging ever so slightly, and objects placed carefully around. A gong, a glass bottle, tins, objects obviously meant to be hit to produce a sound. The ball got closer and closer, and people stood mesmorized--but it was all a big joke and the ball never hit anything.
That evening we weren't able to get tickets to a play, but we did have dinner with Bill and Dave's friends, William and Hillary. They were awesome, and William kept asking me about Nevada politics and Hillary and I had girl talk. I gave her my card, so hopefully she gets in touch.
I booked it the next morning, under the philosophy that if I got on the bus and sat their firmly enough, they wouldn't kick me out. It worked.
End New York City trip
Fast forward to Monday. My sole task of the day was acquiring a ticket to the Inauguration. I relied on my insider knowledge of the Capitol to get inside the Senate Hart building using the entrance NOT on the main street. As I walked around, a crowd of people started following me, however.....by the time I tried to get into the building later the line was just as terrible as the rest.
I managed to lose my gloves, too.
But I did get tickets. And ran into friends, and the State Senate Majority Leader...and Senator Reid coming out of the elevators when I was half-wake and irritable and looking like shit.
I also attended a luncheon that consisted of all the Who's Who in the Nevada Democratic Party, plus a scattering of Congressmen and Senators, including the future Secretary of the Interior, Sen. Ken Salazar.
Still, I was happy to get out that night. Josh's sister picked me up from the Metro and was pleasantly surprised at my new lighter shade of hair. I recounted to her the various reactions of my friends at the lunch. Ruben said it looked "natural." I just raised my eyes.
Oh, and Don King's manager(?) came up to me and insisted he was going to introduce me. Don't know what was up with that, but I now have his phone number. Although nothing came of it.
In honor of this momentous occasion, I dyed my hair blond yesterday. I wished it to be ala Jessica Alba, although who knows what the color will actually turn out to be. (it was no one's fault, least of all Melissa's, when we ran short on bleach and my hair came out darker than I intended.)
Melissa is the girl I am staying with, I should mention. I flew in on Thursday and her boyfriend, Oliver picked me up. I met them while I was dating a friend of theirs during my internship in DC two summers ago. She is absolutely fabulous, and he's not half bad ;)
Here I am going to break to remind myself of my brief trip to New York
On Friday, I got up early and Melissa drove me to the bus stop. Or at least tried to. We got to the right street, but for the life of us could not find the bus. I mean, it should have been obvious. You can't miss a bus, right? I called up the New York office, since the DC line wasn't picking up, and the woman on the other end informed me in a bored, irritated voice that she didn't know how to tell me where the bus was. So I called the 1-800 number-- and got the SAME lady. Who screamed at me that she was in New York and she had no idea where the bus was in Baltimore. Melissa and I affectionately termed her "the crazy bitch lady." We found the bus by sheer luck, driving away, saw a white bus with a Chinese guy next to it, yelled out, "Are you going to New York?", he nodded, I jumped onboard.
The first thing I did, after I showered of course, was what I always do when I first get into the city. I wandered through Central Park, people-watching. I stopped at a soup place and got a bowl of curried chicken tomato soup with basmati rice (after failing to find a hot dog vendor).
Then I walked down Broadway, checking out the shows. At 44th, I saw a Sephora and, almost impulsively, decided I needed a makeover so that I looked nice for the theater that evening. It was practically evening by then. A woman applied different looks to my eyes, dramatic purple, cat's eye, smudged black, and settled on a mix between the cat's eye and the smudged black shadow. It looked fantastic.
I practically had to run back to the apartment in order to get back before Bill and Dave got home from work. I just barely had time to stop for feminine supplies and eye makeup remover.
I dressed into my black, embroidered dress, black suede boots, and rabbit fur coat. I looked pretty good, and Bill said so. The performance was Speed-the-Plow and the cast was William H. Macy (Pleasantville), Raul Esperaza, and Elisabeth Moss (Zoey from West Wing). Raul Esperaza had a perfect deadpan delivery of the best lines.
The next day, I visited the Whitney Museum. The best exhibit was a wire sculpter/engineer named Alexander Caldera. His work I can best describe as "balanced imbalanced motion." People in poses just at the most awkward moment of the motion. Pigs fucking. A mobile with two balls, one swinging ever so slightly, and objects placed carefully around. A gong, a glass bottle, tins, objects obviously meant to be hit to produce a sound. The ball got closer and closer, and people stood mesmorized--but it was all a big joke and the ball never hit anything.
That evening we weren't able to get tickets to a play, but we did have dinner with Bill and Dave's friends, William and Hillary. They were awesome, and William kept asking me about Nevada politics and Hillary and I had girl talk. I gave her my card, so hopefully she gets in touch.
I booked it the next morning, under the philosophy that if I got on the bus and sat their firmly enough, they wouldn't kick me out. It worked.
End New York City trip
Fast forward to Monday. My sole task of the day was acquiring a ticket to the Inauguration. I relied on my insider knowledge of the Capitol to get inside the Senate Hart building using the entrance NOT on the main street. As I walked around, a crowd of people started following me, however.....by the time I tried to get into the building later the line was just as terrible as the rest.
I managed to lose my gloves, too.
But I did get tickets. And ran into friends, and the State Senate Majority Leader...and Senator Reid coming out of the elevators when I was half-wake and irritable and looking like shit.
I also attended a luncheon that consisted of all the Who's Who in the Nevada Democratic Party, plus a scattering of Congressmen and Senators, including the future Secretary of the Interior, Sen. Ken Salazar.
Still, I was happy to get out that night. Josh's sister picked me up from the Metro and was pleasantly surprised at my new lighter shade of hair. I recounted to her the various reactions of my friends at the lunch. Ruben said it looked "natural." I just raised my eyes.
Oh, and Don King's manager(?) came up to me and insisted he was going to introduce me. Don't know what was up with that, but I now have his phone number. Although nothing came of it.
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