i work up this morning to two bizarre text messages from the mother of one of my students. some context here before i cite these messages. she's the mother of a kid at maegokdong, but sometimes she'll show up at my drama classes at the library to watch or to help the other helpers yell at the kids. fair enough. when i went to seoul 2 weekends ago, she happened to be at the drama class on friday that i had to immediately leave once it was finished. so she offered to drive me to the bus terminal. she has also taken me to lunch before with her, 3 of her friends and her child. keep in mind that i didn't ask her for any of these things, and until today i thought this lady was the bee's knees.
last week she randomly asked me "jamie, what is pajama party?" so i explained it was sort of a sleepover thing that adolescent girls would do. to which she responded "let's have one friday at your place." uh, huh? then she said, "we'll eat dinner, go drinking and then have party at your apartment." i wasn't totally opposed to two out of the three things, so i sort of agreed (yes, i'm admitting at least a little guilt here...). again, i should remind myself that i only enjoy hanging out with students or mothers if it falls into the hours of my work day. my free time (and my lunch time) is just that, my time.
but i had actually forgotten about plans i'd already made with two other friends for the same friday. so i cancelled on her last week cause that's how i roll. in america, this is probably not a big deal. in fact, i've done it before with people i like a lot more than this woman. but her kid didn't come to class yesterday, so i text messaged her and told her i was sad not to see her there. so yeah, this morning, 2 text messages:
1: "hi jamie! it let me down that u cancelled on us last fri. im so
disapponted and depressed deep." okay. who's "us?" is this like the royal "we?"
2: "so important cause of only free night a month. if ud like 2heal
me, why don't buy us lunch?" again, who's "us?"
okay, granted, i probably do owe her a lunch, but i honestly can't afford to buy "us" lunch if "us" means me, her, her kid, and the 3 other people who were in tow last time. i'm a girl on a budget. so now i'm in a quandary. part of me feels like i also owe her a lecture on cultural differences--americans cancel on each other all the time, and it doesn't make the cancellee "depressed."
so i finally just texted her and said i was sorry. no promise of a future lunch, no admittance of guilt, just i'm sorry. we'll see how that goes over...
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
belated continuation of last weekend's recap
i think i left off with hookah bar, guy who thought i was a whore and the lantern festival.
met my good friend clayton in this university area of seoul post jazz bar. went to a hookah bar. i'm a fan of these places. i liked the hookah bar in itaewon more, felt more intimate, darker. plus it had a bitchin cheese plate. i like those characteristics in bars--hookah or otherwise. but this other place was okay, as the general atmosphere of the whole area picked up the slack. didn't really matter after the jazz bar (where i drank some german beer, not cass or hite), my night was made.
went to bed relatively early that night (3:30 ish is early). slept in until around 11, as we had no major plans, other than going to a parade later that evening. when we left the hotel, erica and i tried to evade the front desk chick and just left fike to deal with her, as she obviously saw us and knew that we were three in a room, not two. so we headed outside and just waited for fike. he seems to do well in these situations, as he's mastered the art of being aloof and "i don't speak korean." so erica and i waited for about 5 minutes outside, getting progressively more nervous (you wouldn't say nervous-er, would you? sounds weird if it is a word). then fike emerges, walking hurridly saying "let's go. start walking." so the lady told him he had to pay $10 more for the extra person, at which point he said "just a moment" then left. i think she probably assumed he had to go to an atm, so we just left. that was pretty funny. it was already way overpriced--paper thin walls and tiny rooms, not any different than a motel, aside from jacked up prices. plus, that was $10 we desperately needed to contribute to our "sunday afternoon getting drunk" fund. a moral dilemma, no doubt, but clearly our thirst outweighed the needs of this hotelier.
we headed to the bus terminal to stash our bags for the day and eat. took us a while but we eventually found lockers. hopped on the subway and headed towards city hall where all the festivities were. one of the first things we saw during our festival experience was a parade of raelians. i could spend some time explaining these peeps, but instead i'll divert you to wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raelian they're big in the korea, i guess. you could sort of see the raelian chicks' boobs, so hey, that was cool. then we saw lots of hare krishnas and buddhists, all hanging out parading about and making crafts. along with the thousands of other festival goers. we were hands off festival goers, content to just wander around amidst the throng. erica and i did participate in one booth. we wrote letters to orphans in laos. at least my dude was from laos, i don't remember where erica's was from. that was fun. i might even get a 6 year old pen pal out of the deal.
after some meandering, decided that afternoon beers were in order. so we sat at a soju/kimbap tent of sorts, observing and drinking. this is where the creepy dude who thought i was a prostitute came into the picture.
so i have a very large tattoo on my back, and no, it's not a butterfly or a dolphin or some chinese character. also not a lower back tattoo--you know, whore stamps. i
was wearing a dress that revealed some of said tattoo. nothing more scandalous than the near ass-baring skirts and slutty stilettos or whore boots that so many korean girls wear on a daily basis. but i guess tattoos make people think you're easy. anyhoo, dude had been staring at us for a long long time, then mustered up the courage to talk to fike first, to feel us out. once he realizes we're all americans, he seems a little surprised but still friendly. so we're talking, he says he's been to missouri but that he didn't like it. okay, whatever. then he very aggressively tries to cover me up with his jacket. so i politely tell him i'm not cold. but he's forcing this jacket on my back. so i violently shove the jacket off of me. and once again i wanted to shout "don't fucking touch me!" i'm not some little kid, i'm not a wild animal, i'm an adult and don't ever want to be shushed or touched by complete strangers. yaaarrrggghhh! shake an angry fist! and besides, can't he see that my tattoo is intricate and beautiful? you think a russian whore has that kind of attention to detail? so after that i just kind of sat there stewing. but if it hadn't been for that awkward time spent with gross dude and us feeling the need to ditch him, wouldn't have awkwardly run into hot dude (and his family) in insa-dong. so i guess it all worked out.
we drank at an indian bar, then hit up a 711 for some cans o' beer, then ate at an italian restaurant, then headed over to the parade. continued drinking the cheap beer. and once again the parade was a magical, otherwordly thing. thousands of pale lights steadily streaming off into the distance, gently punctuating the bustle that is everyday seoul. good eats.
after getting nice and toasted, had to leave the parade early to make the 10:20 bus back to our small town. needless to say, the beer aided our sleeping quite a bit. so even though monday is my earliest day of the week, i felt well-rested.
buddha's birthday was actually on thursday, which meant a day off work. sort of a teaser since you still have to work on friday, and then it's the weekend, but i'll take a day off whenever i can get it. i had entertained going to some temples or going on a picnic, or doing something arguably productive. but instead it rained a lot and i was grateful for the excuse to do indoor things like eating, drinking and passing out drunk during a full theater's viewing of pirates of the caribbean. yup, i'm a responsible adult. so yeah, ate shabu shabu with erica and fike. it sort of sucked--too much dwenjang (sp?)--but i gorged myself anyway. after that we decided to go see a movie. so we get to the theatre and end up having 2 hours to kill before the movie. head to a mini stop, wet and thirsty. wow, that sounds sort of dirty, but i'll go with it... 3 pitchers of beer later, we're sort of inexplicably wasted. sure 3 pitchers will get 3 people drunk, but there's really no logical explanation for just how drunk we were. i dunno. it was bizarre, but fun. so in the theater we continued our drinking spree, finishing a pitcher of beer and then moving on to a bottle of wine. i'll be honest, not a great idea, but an idea nonetheless. then i passed out. woke up and felt nauseaus, went to get a soda. fike and erica met me at the snack bar so we could leave. so yeah, don't ask me how pirates of the caribbean was, i have absolutely no idea. all in all, i think it was a day that buddha himself would have wholeheartedly endorsed.
met my good friend clayton in this university area of seoul post jazz bar. went to a hookah bar. i'm a fan of these places. i liked the hookah bar in itaewon more, felt more intimate, darker. plus it had a bitchin cheese plate. i like those characteristics in bars--hookah or otherwise. but this other place was okay, as the general atmosphere of the whole area picked up the slack. didn't really matter after the jazz bar (where i drank some german beer, not cass or hite), my night was made.
went to bed relatively early that night (3:30 ish is early). slept in until around 11, as we had no major plans, other than going to a parade later that evening. when we left the hotel, erica and i tried to evade the front desk chick and just left fike to deal with her, as she obviously saw us and knew that we were three in a room, not two. so we headed outside and just waited for fike. he seems to do well in these situations, as he's mastered the art of being aloof and "i don't speak korean." so erica and i waited for about 5 minutes outside, getting progressively more nervous (you wouldn't say nervous-er, would you? sounds weird if it is a word). then fike emerges, walking hurridly saying "let's go. start walking." so the lady told him he had to pay $10 more for the extra person, at which point he said "just a moment" then left. i think she probably assumed he had to go to an atm, so we just left. that was pretty funny. it was already way overpriced--paper thin walls and tiny rooms, not any different than a motel, aside from jacked up prices. plus, that was $10 we desperately needed to contribute to our "sunday afternoon getting drunk" fund. a moral dilemma, no doubt, but clearly our thirst outweighed the needs of this hotelier.
we headed to the bus terminal to stash our bags for the day and eat. took us a while but we eventually found lockers. hopped on the subway and headed towards city hall where all the festivities were. one of the first things we saw during our festival experience was a parade of raelians. i could spend some time explaining these peeps, but instead i'll divert you to wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raelian they're big in the korea, i guess. you could sort of see the raelian chicks' boobs, so hey, that was cool. then we saw lots of hare krishnas and buddhists, all hanging out parading about and making crafts. along with the thousands of other festival goers. we were hands off festival goers, content to just wander around amidst the throng. erica and i did participate in one booth. we wrote letters to orphans in laos. at least my dude was from laos, i don't remember where erica's was from. that was fun. i might even get a 6 year old pen pal out of the deal.
after some meandering, decided that afternoon beers were in order. so we sat at a soju/kimbap tent of sorts, observing and drinking. this is where the creepy dude who thought i was a prostitute came into the picture.
so i have a very large tattoo on my back, and no, it's not a butterfly or a dolphin or some chinese character. also not a lower back tattoo--you know, whore stamps. i
was wearing a dress that revealed some of said tattoo. nothing more scandalous than the near ass-baring skirts and slutty stilettos or whore boots that so many korean girls wear on a daily basis. but i guess tattoos make people think you're easy. anyhoo, dude had been staring at us for a long long time, then mustered up the courage to talk to fike first, to feel us out. once he realizes we're all americans, he seems a little surprised but still friendly. so we're talking, he says he's been to missouri but that he didn't like it. okay, whatever. then he very aggressively tries to cover me up with his jacket. so i politely tell him i'm not cold. but he's forcing this jacket on my back. so i violently shove the jacket off of me. and once again i wanted to shout "don't fucking touch me!" i'm not some little kid, i'm not a wild animal, i'm an adult and don't ever want to be shushed or touched by complete strangers. yaaarrrggghhh! shake an angry fist! and besides, can't he see that my tattoo is intricate and beautiful? you think a russian whore has that kind of attention to detail? so after that i just kind of sat there stewing. but if it hadn't been for that awkward time spent with gross dude and us feeling the need to ditch him, wouldn't have awkwardly run into hot dude (and his family) in insa-dong. so i guess it all worked out.we drank at an indian bar, then hit up a 711 for some cans o' beer, then ate at an italian restaurant, then headed over to the parade. continued drinking the cheap beer. and once again the parade was a magical, otherwordly thing. thousands of pale lights steadily streaming off into the distance, gently punctuating the bustle that is everyday seoul. good eats.
after getting nice and toasted, had to leave the parade early to make the 10:20 bus back to our small town. needless to say, the beer aided our sleeping quite a bit. so even though monday is my earliest day of the week, i felt well-rested.
buddha's birthday was actually on thursday, which meant a day off work. sort of a teaser since you still have to work on friday, and then it's the weekend, but i'll take a day off whenever i can get it. i had entertained going to some temples or going on a picnic, or doing something arguably productive. but instead it rained a lot and i was grateful for the excuse to do indoor things like eating, drinking and passing out drunk during a full theater's viewing of pirates of the caribbean. yup, i'm a responsible adult. so yeah, ate shabu shabu with erica and fike. it sort of sucked--too much dwenjang (sp?)--but i gorged myself anyway. after that we decided to go see a movie. so we get to the theatre and end up having 2 hours to kill before the movie. head to a mini stop, wet and thirsty. wow, that sounds sort of dirty, but i'll go with it... 3 pitchers of beer later, we're sort of inexplicably wasted. sure 3 pitchers will get 3 people drunk, but there's really no logical explanation for just how drunk we were. i dunno. it was bizarre, but fun. so in the theater we continued our drinking spree, finishing a pitcher of beer and then moving on to a bottle of wine. i'll be honest, not a great idea, but an idea nonetheless. then i passed out. woke up and felt nauseaus, went to get a soda. fike and erica met me at the snack bar so we could leave. so yeah, don't ask me how pirates of the caribbean was, i have absolutely no idea. all in all, i think it was a day that buddha himself would have wholeheartedly endorsed.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
more weekend update with attractive subheaders
I'm finding it hard to focus today. earlier today I gave my 30 days notice for my job at city hall. It's weird that exactly a year ago I had been fired from my chuncheon gig. Yet here I was today, thinking about contracts and formal letters. Mr. Bak, my supervisor, took it surprisingly well. He was too hungover to be very reactionary about the whole thing. I remember a time when I swore I would never move to seoul, would never want to go to a big city—too many foreigners, life moves too quickly there. But at that point I also had jules and rory with me and they were all the entertainment I needed. Which is not to say that suncheon is without its merits, fike and Erica being my surrogate jules and rory over the last few months. I've also gotten to travel a lot while I've been here, but I think I've spent the whole time in suncheon waiting for things to happen to me instead of being proactive in my life. I like the idea of having things to do. a great weekend in seoul bookended by a shitty Friday drama class and a shitty Monday drama class was what finally made me realize I didn't have to stay here in this city or in this job if I didn't want to. Quite the revelation.
Friday night lights, I just really wanted to type that. Bar nana (banana!)
so yeah, this weekend marked another visit to seoul with Erica and mike. Friday was sort of a stressful day, as I'd bought the bus tickets for 6:20, but didn't finish work until 6. the whole day I felt like I was rushing: rushing to eat because I was nice and kept playing games with munchkins for an extra 15 minutes into my lunch break, rushing to finish my drama class, rushing to get to the terminal on time. I got there with about 2 minutes to spare, thanks to the superior driving skills of a student's mother. She was saying "fuck" and "shit" the whole time she was swerving in and out of traffic.
So we arrived in seoul a little after 10, caught the subway and found a shitty love motel. the next day the plan was the dmz tour, so we didn't want to get too drunk. Went to itaewon, as it seems to be the default when you show up late-ish and indecisive on a Friday night. Not all the bars are full of douchebags, though the random assholes loudly parading themselves down the street would make one think otherwise. Seriously, where do these people come from? Are they all english teachers? That's mildly disheartening. There's one place I've been to every time I've gone to seoul now (at least for round 2 in suncheon) called bar nana.
It's great—interesting décor, Korean dudes with tattoos. Sometimes there's good music. Other times it's standard dance-y music. I can deal with that as long as everything else is cool. Normally there aren't too many people, but on this particular friday nite it was packed. Some chick was flailing around quite a bit, so that made for good entertainment. an asian looking dude came to sit down next to me, so I told him the seat wasn't taken and spoke a little Korean, and he's like "dude, I'm American too." So I felt like an ass. But he was really cool and even made his way into some of my pictures that have yet to be posted. Plus he bought us beers, so that's always a bonus. Post bar nana, made our way back to our motel.
Dmz (sans girly mentionings of dudes)
We had to go to our meeting place at 8 in the morning. Bus departed at 8:20. the first half of the day involved going to all the same stuff I went to last time when I was disappointed: tunnel (including the uber-melodramatic 7 minute butterfly film whose only goal seemed to be to diminish the severity of what's one of the most uniquely hostile situations in the world. But whatev), rail station. The first train to north korea had actually only left the station on Thursday, so it was cool to be there so soon after a pretty historic event.
after a tasty lunch in what appeared to be a log cabin in the middle of korea (that's weird, just so you know), came all the good parts of the dmz tour. the sort of shocking, unsettling stuff. First we went to the freedom bridge ("is that freedom rock? Turn it up!" I believe I made that same joke last time…). not really too shocking, but that's where we changed buses to go to panmunjom/joint security area. We drove for a little while to the military base of camp bonifas, where we then had our passports checked again. Met our American military personnel "tour guide" (I don't seem to recall him speaking. But he was hot. I know, I know, sorry, that girly part slipped into the recap…). then we had a briefing and signed a waiver saying we might die and all that shit. And the biggie: "visitors will not point make gestures, or expressions which
could be used by the north Korean side as propaganda material against the united nations command." Yikes. Every time I went to brush hair out of my face or adjust my sunglasses, I was afraid I would be shot. Anyhoo, Boarded onto blue UN buses and went to the joint security area/mac conference room. That's the room where one side of the table is in north korea, the other side is south korea. I don't think I even had my whole body on the north Korean side at any point. But I think most of the right side of my body still counts. It's funny that I don't think of those things until after the fact. Stood next to a Korean soldier who looked fucking scary and not real. I think my picture sort of reflects that fear. After the jsa, we went to the freedom house. I'd call it more of a freedom pagoda. surrounded (on 3 sides at least) by north korea. After that we got to look out on a nice vista (?) of north korea. I guess it was pretty. You hear all this stuff about how the dmz is the most-well kept natural wildlife preserve in the whole world (despite the thousands of landmines that remain), but it didn't look particularly pretty. I dunno. But I got lots of good pictures. After that we passed the site of the ax murder incident (go to wikipedia, fools!) and then the bridge of no return. Then the long bus ride home that I seem to recall touching upon briefly in my last blog.
Jazz and hookah and just a general good feeling
Later that night we decided to explore a different area of seoul (this, of course, after eating fantastic Mexican food in itaewon and drinking mojitos. It was quite nice). So we went to another university area and wandered around looking for a love motel for about an hour. Though it sucked to not have our lodgings in order, it was nice to get to wander around in this totally different part of seoul. It actually felt sort of sophisticated and classy. In a lot of really bizarre ways it reminded me of Austin, tx. All those nice restaurants and coffee shops that had actually had some effort put into their interiors. We finally found a hotel, not a motel. Which means it's slightly more expensive, but we were sick of walking around with all our shit (particularly me. When i'm in a rush I tend to overpack, hoping that I don't forget anything by virtue of including everything I own). So we unpacked, snuck Erica into the room (or so we thought), napped, and then went out on the town. We ended up at a jazz club. That was only slightly surreal. In the 8 months I've been here I've been totally starved for music of any sort. Of course there have been the random excursions where I hear traditional Korean music, but hearing and seeing live jazz was probably more overwhelming than I would have thought it could be. They were great. 2 saxophonists—an alto and a tenor—drums, stand up bass, piano.
It was so nice and calm and a highlight of the weekend. I felt like a normal human being again for about an hour. Listening to live music like normal people do sometimes. Drinking a beer and just absorbing it all. it's easy to forget how much I miss live music when I've been stripped of it cold turkey. And then I see things like this and it's sort of inexplicably overwhelming, a reminder of what I've been missing, whether I've realized it or not.
I suppose this is it for now. Still have the hookah bar, lantern festival and random guy who thought I was a prostitute to cover. Oh, and the raelians. Fucking crazy peeps!
Friday night lights, I just really wanted to type that. Bar nana (banana!)
so yeah, this weekend marked another visit to seoul with Erica and mike. Friday was sort of a stressful day, as I'd bought the bus tickets for 6:20, but didn't finish work until 6. the whole day I felt like I was rushing: rushing to eat because I was nice and kept playing games with munchkins for an extra 15 minutes into my lunch break, rushing to finish my drama class, rushing to get to the terminal on time. I got there with about 2 minutes to spare, thanks to the superior driving skills of a student's mother. She was saying "fuck" and "shit" the whole time she was swerving in and out of traffic.
So we arrived in seoul a little after 10, caught the subway and found a shitty love motel. the next day the plan was the dmz tour, so we didn't want to get too drunk. Went to itaewon, as it seems to be the default when you show up late-ish and indecisive on a Friday night. Not all the bars are full of douchebags, though the random assholes loudly parading themselves down the street would make one think otherwise. Seriously, where do these people come from? Are they all english teachers? That's mildly disheartening. There's one place I've been to every time I've gone to seoul now (at least for round 2 in suncheon) called bar nana.
It's great—interesting décor, Korean dudes with tattoos. Sometimes there's good music. Other times it's standard dance-y music. I can deal with that as long as everything else is cool. Normally there aren't too many people, but on this particular friday nite it was packed. Some chick was flailing around quite a bit, so that made for good entertainment. an asian looking dude came to sit down next to me, so I told him the seat wasn't taken and spoke a little Korean, and he's like "dude, I'm American too." So I felt like an ass. But he was really cool and even made his way into some of my pictures that have yet to be posted. Plus he bought us beers, so that's always a bonus. Post bar nana, made our way back to our motel.Dmz (sans girly mentionings of dudes)
We had to go to our meeting place at 8 in the morning. Bus departed at 8:20. the first half of the day involved going to all the same stuff I went to last time when I was disappointed: tunnel (including the uber-melodramatic 7 minute butterfly film whose only goal seemed to be to diminish the severity of what's one of the most uniquely hostile situations in the world. But whatev), rail station. The first train to north korea had actually only left the station on Thursday, so it was cool to be there so soon after a pretty historic event.
after a tasty lunch in what appeared to be a log cabin in the middle of korea (that's weird, just so you know), came all the good parts of the dmz tour. the sort of shocking, unsettling stuff. First we went to the freedom bridge ("is that freedom rock? Turn it up!" I believe I made that same joke last time…). not really too shocking, but that's where we changed buses to go to panmunjom/joint security area. We drove for a little while to the military base of camp bonifas, where we then had our passports checked again. Met our American military personnel "tour guide" (I don't seem to recall him speaking. But he was hot. I know, I know, sorry, that girly part slipped into the recap…). then we had a briefing and signed a waiver saying we might die and all that shit. And the biggie: "visitors will not point make gestures, or expressions which
could be used by the north Korean side as propaganda material against the united nations command." Yikes. Every time I went to brush hair out of my face or adjust my sunglasses, I was afraid I would be shot. Anyhoo, Boarded onto blue UN buses and went to the joint security area/mac conference room. That's the room where one side of the table is in north korea, the other side is south korea. I don't think I even had my whole body on the north Korean side at any point. But I think most of the right side of my body still counts. It's funny that I don't think of those things until after the fact. Stood next to a Korean soldier who looked fucking scary and not real. I think my picture sort of reflects that fear. After the jsa, we went to the freedom house. I'd call it more of a freedom pagoda. surrounded (on 3 sides at least) by north korea. After that we got to look out on a nice vista (?) of north korea. I guess it was pretty. You hear all this stuff about how the dmz is the most-well kept natural wildlife preserve in the whole world (despite the thousands of landmines that remain), but it didn't look particularly pretty. I dunno. But I got lots of good pictures. After that we passed the site of the ax murder incident (go to wikipedia, fools!) and then the bridge of no return. Then the long bus ride home that I seem to recall touching upon briefly in my last blog.Jazz and hookah and just a general good feeling
Later that night we decided to explore a different area of seoul (this, of course, after eating fantastic Mexican food in itaewon and drinking mojitos. It was quite nice). So we went to another university area and wandered around looking for a love motel for about an hour. Though it sucked to not have our lodgings in order, it was nice to get to wander around in this totally different part of seoul. It actually felt sort of sophisticated and classy. In a lot of really bizarre ways it reminded me of Austin, tx. All those nice restaurants and coffee shops that had actually had some effort put into their interiors. We finally found a hotel, not a motel. Which means it's slightly more expensive, but we were sick of walking around with all our shit (particularly me. When i'm in a rush I tend to overpack, hoping that I don't forget anything by virtue of including everything I own). So we unpacked, snuck Erica into the room (or so we thought), napped, and then went out on the town. We ended up at a jazz club. That was only slightly surreal. In the 8 months I've been here I've been totally starved for music of any sort. Of course there have been the random excursions where I hear traditional Korean music, but hearing and seeing live jazz was probably more overwhelming than I would have thought it could be. They were great. 2 saxophonists—an alto and a tenor—drums, stand up bass, piano.
It was so nice and calm and a highlight of the weekend. I felt like a normal human being again for about an hour. Listening to live music like normal people do sometimes. Drinking a beer and just absorbing it all. it's easy to forget how much I miss live music when I've been stripped of it cold turkey. And then I see things like this and it's sort of inexplicably overwhelming, a reminder of what I've been missing, whether I've realized it or not.I suppose this is it for now. Still have the hookah bar, lantern festival and random guy who thought I was a prostitute to cover. Oh, and the raelians. Fucking crazy peeps!
Monday, May 21, 2007
i've sort of been having impure thoughts. sorry...
okay, so i didn't just realize this, but it's the first time i've applied it. i'm not going to write one mammoth blog summing up my entire weekend. instead, i'm going to do it in nugglets, disjointed convoluted nugglets. just what any good piece of writing should be...
dmz and sensory overload
let it be known that I'm not a chick who gets around. With that said, I think it's also safe to say I have actually forgotten how to flirt or interact with boys, men (and boys II men) in the past 8 months I've been here. Of course I never completely got the grasp of wooing a person stateside, but any muscle I might have had in that arena [underdeveloped though it may have been] has since atrophied. I've sort of gotten used to being on absolutely no one's romantic radar (and no, I'm not counting sexual harassment in the workplace or by people I thought were friends of mine. Got those both covered). Fact of the matter is, it's slim pickins over here in the korea when you're not a petite, asian girl and you're not particularly attracted to asian men. which is not to say that the grossly emasculated culture of pastel polos, obnoxious cell phone décor (and sounds) and high maintenance hair don't tug the heartstrings of other chicks, natives or otherwise. Just not this one in particular. foreign dudes are equally sparse, as they're either dating some tiny, korean chick already or they're most likely fucking (adj.) tools. Please forgive me my gross generalizations, I blame it on my small city, as well as my inherently/admittedly judgmental nature. oh, and I suppose not having had any physical contact in a long time figures into my outlook too, it can make a person a little, I dunno, pent up.
anyhoo, the palpable lack of any "opportunities" here in suncheon probably rarely segues so nicely into a person's first impressions of their dmz tour. unless everyone thinks of sex when they hear "dmz." but when we got on the bus for our tour to begin, all I saw were a bunch of foreign dudes. We're talking foreign foreign dudes—germans, frenchies, danes (it's not denmarkians, is it? probably not since a little squiggly line popped up in my word document). Sensory overload. I was like a kid in a candy store. Except this kid was having x-rated fantasies at 8:20 in the am. Oh, and there was no candy. Bummer. Anyhoo, there's really no point to this particular section of my weekend recap. an excuse for me to make fun of my increasingly palpable lack of sexual prowess, I suppose. All I could do was repeat "he's hot" to Erica. and it was sort of obvious that all these peeps were annoyed by the loud, perpetually late americans. i think if I could have just told them all I was sexually attracted to them it would have made everything better.
the one that got away and then ran into us again and then got away again!
okay, i think i've established that i don't do well around boys and/or men. particularly those i am attracted to. and unfortunately this is not unique to korea (if the paragraphs prior aren't evidence enough, reference any past blog entry with mentionings of attractive dudes). the majority of moments in my life spent with members of the opposite sex that I'm actually attracted to have been riddled with failing banter and many a red face. but on this bus of foreigners who all seemed to speak anything but english natively, there did happen to be one gentleman with whom I was able to hold an actual conversation. I'm already starved for conversation in my 40 hrs/week "I am fine, thank you" stupor. add to this the fact that it's a hot canadian dude reciprocating and it's really almost too much to bear. i'll spare you his details, as these demographic nuggets really wouldn't matter to anyone other than me. But as the bus wound its way back to seoul post-dmz, there were only a handful of us awake for the 45 or so minutes. including this dude. this dude who had come and sat next to me and shared his gum and cookies with me of his own free will. so i spoke full-blown, overdue english to a [tall!] stranger for an extended amount of time while everyone else dreamily respired in near unison. eyes closed. mouth breathers. But of course the magical mystery tour had to come to an end. People had to wake up (including his mother and sister who accompanied him on the tour). and then I was forced to do something I hope to never have to do again: ask his sister for her phone number, under the guise that I would call her to hang out the next day (I didn't even know her name. nor had I spoken more than 5 words to her over the course of the day). gotta be honest, that was purty painful. it's sort of difficult to flirt with someone in front of their family members without feeling a little unclean. but i did it. sort of, i guess. and just as i entered the last digit of her phone number into my phone and started to walk away, I closed my phone without saving the number. i think simultaneously I realized that I hadn't even told this guy my name, nor had I asked him his name (Erica and fike had actually asked his name. so I only found that out in retrospect). And now I even feel silly having exhausted this much time thinking about a dude who in the grand scheme of things I didn't really talk to for very long, and who is probably married or gay, or as is increasingly the case these days, both. But I did run into him the next day in insa-dong in seoul when there were literally thousands of people milling about for a festival. what are the odds? and once again, mom and seester in tow. so there was nothing I could do. except wish that I had given him my email address. seems like it all fits in with my romantic history, or noticeable lack thereof.
so yeah, this is all totally lame. i went to the dmz (actually stood in north korean, or at least my right food did, briefly) and the lotus lantern festival that was gorgeous, and the thing that i immediately want to expound upon is a dude i wanted to have relations with. but what can i say, i'm a hot chick who hasn't gotten laid in a very long time. as erica would say, that falls into the "too much information" category. but it's what's on my mind.
oh, my myspace blog's been viewed 6002 times. that's sort of cool. i'm tired.
dmz and sensory overload
let it be known that I'm not a chick who gets around. With that said, I think it's also safe to say I have actually forgotten how to flirt or interact with boys, men (and boys II men) in the past 8 months I've been here. Of course I never completely got the grasp of wooing a person stateside, but any muscle I might have had in that arena [underdeveloped though it may have been] has since atrophied. I've sort of gotten used to being on absolutely no one's romantic radar (and no, I'm not counting sexual harassment in the workplace or by people I thought were friends of mine. Got those both covered). Fact of the matter is, it's slim pickins over here in the korea when you're not a petite, asian girl and you're not particularly attracted to asian men. which is not to say that the grossly emasculated culture of pastel polos, obnoxious cell phone décor (and sounds) and high maintenance hair don't tug the heartstrings of other chicks, natives or otherwise. Just not this one in particular. foreign dudes are equally sparse, as they're either dating some tiny, korean chick already or they're most likely fucking (adj.) tools. Please forgive me my gross generalizations, I blame it on my small city, as well as my inherently/admittedly judgmental nature. oh, and I suppose not having had any physical contact in a long time figures into my outlook too, it can make a person a little, I dunno, pent up.
anyhoo, the palpable lack of any "opportunities" here in suncheon probably rarely segues so nicely into a person's first impressions of their dmz tour. unless everyone thinks of sex when they hear "dmz." but when we got on the bus for our tour to begin, all I saw were a bunch of foreign dudes. We're talking foreign foreign dudes—germans, frenchies, danes (it's not denmarkians, is it? probably not since a little squiggly line popped up in my word document). Sensory overload. I was like a kid in a candy store. Except this kid was having x-rated fantasies at 8:20 in the am. Oh, and there was no candy. Bummer. Anyhoo, there's really no point to this particular section of my weekend recap. an excuse for me to make fun of my increasingly palpable lack of sexual prowess, I suppose. All I could do was repeat "he's hot" to Erica. and it was sort of obvious that all these peeps were annoyed by the loud, perpetually late americans. i think if I could have just told them all I was sexually attracted to them it would have made everything better.
the one that got away and then ran into us again and then got away again!
okay, i think i've established that i don't do well around boys and/or men. particularly those i am attracted to. and unfortunately this is not unique to korea (if the paragraphs prior aren't evidence enough, reference any past blog entry with mentionings of attractive dudes). the majority of moments in my life spent with members of the opposite sex that I'm actually attracted to have been riddled with failing banter and many a red face. but on this bus of foreigners who all seemed to speak anything but english natively, there did happen to be one gentleman with whom I was able to hold an actual conversation. I'm already starved for conversation in my 40 hrs/week "I am fine, thank you" stupor. add to this the fact that it's a hot canadian dude reciprocating and it's really almost too much to bear. i'll spare you his details, as these demographic nuggets really wouldn't matter to anyone other than me. But as the bus wound its way back to seoul post-dmz, there were only a handful of us awake for the 45 or so minutes. including this dude. this dude who had come and sat next to me and shared his gum and cookies with me of his own free will. so i spoke full-blown, overdue english to a [tall!] stranger for an extended amount of time while everyone else dreamily respired in near unison. eyes closed. mouth breathers. But of course the magical mystery tour had to come to an end. People had to wake up (including his mother and sister who accompanied him on the tour). and then I was forced to do something I hope to never have to do again: ask his sister for her phone number, under the guise that I would call her to hang out the next day (I didn't even know her name. nor had I spoken more than 5 words to her over the course of the day). gotta be honest, that was purty painful. it's sort of difficult to flirt with someone in front of their family members without feeling a little unclean. but i did it. sort of, i guess. and just as i entered the last digit of her phone number into my phone and started to walk away, I closed my phone without saving the number. i think simultaneously I realized that I hadn't even told this guy my name, nor had I asked him his name (Erica and fike had actually asked his name. so I only found that out in retrospect). And now I even feel silly having exhausted this much time thinking about a dude who in the grand scheme of things I didn't really talk to for very long, and who is probably married or gay, or as is increasingly the case these days, both. But I did run into him the next day in insa-dong in seoul when there were literally thousands of people milling about for a festival. what are the odds? and once again, mom and seester in tow. so there was nothing I could do. except wish that I had given him my email address. seems like it all fits in with my romantic history, or noticeable lack thereof.
so yeah, this is all totally lame. i went to the dmz (actually stood in north korean, or at least my right food did, briefly) and the lotus lantern festival that was gorgeous, and the thing that i immediately want to expound upon is a dude i wanted to have relations with. but what can i say, i'm a hot chick who hasn't gotten laid in a very long time. as erica would say, that falls into the "too much information" category. but it's what's on my mind.
oh, my myspace blog's been viewed 6002 times. that's sort of cool. i'm tired.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
teachers' day guilt
teachers' day was tuesday. but i made the majority of my students feel bad for not getting me anything. i told them i wanted chocolate, flowers and a cake. much to my surprise, i was the humbled recipient of all three of those items today. plus some little fireworks that apparently accompany any cake sold from tous les jours. nice-suh. so my last class resulted in cake eaten with hands and icing smeared on faces.
on a random note, i've been listening to that echo and the bunnymen song from donnie darko way too many times as of late--the killing moon. is that weird?
also in the vein of random, i ate 4 bananas today. am i going to die? my coworkers just kept presenting them to me. and i couldn't say no, because i actually like bananas. they've used food as a substitute for actual direct communication with me. and i've decided i'm totally cool with that.
on a random note, i've been listening to that echo and the bunnymen song from donnie darko way too many times as of late--the killing moon. is that weird?
also in the vein of random, i ate 4 bananas today. am i going to die? my coworkers just kept presenting them to me. and i couldn't say no, because i actually like bananas. they've used food as a substitute for actual direct communication with me. and i've decided i'm totally cool with that.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
stop and smell the strawberries
i like to walk down the street toward my lunchtime kimbop restaurant, agimas huddled over their strawberries and other random wares. it's always nice once you pass the fish and then that sweet fruit smell hits you, each time unexpected.
today was teachers' day. my kindergarten students gave me a badge that said "thank you english teacher." another student gave me a sunflower. today was a good day.
today was teachers' day. my kindergarten students gave me a badge that said "thank you english teacher." another student gave me a sunflower. today was a good day.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
weekend and things
The other day I was at the bus stop and there was a college-aged girl waiting next to me. We sat for maybe 5 minutes before I realized what this subtle quiet sound I had been hearing in the background was. It was the camera sound on her cell phone. And then I noticed her posing differently with each camera flash sound that I heard, fixing her hair—behind the ears, pushed forward, bangs pushed aside or laid flat. I decided to keep track of how many photos she would take of herself before the transfer bus showed up. I counted 14 or 16 in steady succession before bus 77 showed up and I could escape her incessant photography and my obsession with it. Keep in mind, this doesn't account for all the pictures she took before I started to keep track in my head. This is not uncommon either. And there was no self-consciousness that there was a person sitting next to her, witness to such overt vanity. Normally I would have been a spectacle, something worthy at least of a covert sidelong glance or nervous laughter, but nope. In her lg hand phone world, she was the only inhabitant. Again, chock it up to cell phone culture.
Last week Erica and I went in pursuit of some culture in the form of "rock musical" playing at the arts center here in suncheon. Same place that I saw madame butterfly in october and some traditional Korean musicians/storytellers a few months ago (both of which had been surprisingly good). I've been to several musical events now in korea, and for the most part, there's never been much of a problem with the fact that they're all in Korean. And once again, this was not a problem. Which is not to say that the performance was without its flaws. We sat for two hours and witnessed a tour de force of Korean stereotypes and cultural aggrandizement, all set to the tune of hollow, soulless and sporadic bastardizations of "rock" music. But hold on, after two hours, that was just the intermission. Good gad. The gist of the musical was this: some chick with a present to give to someone goes to seoul and gets off at the wrong subway stop. Hilarity and hijinks ensue with each stop—whores, agimas, school kids, crippled people, beggars, etc. great. We left at intermission to go get drunk. Consumed copious amounts of makali and beer between the two of us. It was a nice way to redeem what had been a rather disappointing and annoying evening.
In other news, I have my beginner's drama class again tomorrow afternoon. But get this, I now have two helpers, both competing to win the age contest. In prior posts I had nightmarishly envisioned their meeting—no one telling old helper that she was out and new helper was in. this awkward fantasy came to fruition last Monday. It just keeps getting better every week. Anyhoo, they talk and decide they'll both be helpers. So I'm rejoicing in that, thinking "great, one can be disciplinarian, the other can be translator." But that's not exactly how it worked. Instead of having one helper who does nothing, I now have two. I don't need you to teach, I don't need you to offer advice, I don't really need anything of you, except some discipline and some translation. But instead, I'm yelling just as much as I normally do, but with increased frustration as the two people with power to effect any change seem oblivious to their very positions as authority figures. Yikes. yup, I love Mondays. Starting the day sullenly mopping and saying "I'm better than this" ending the day in tears or near tears feeling helpless. And tomorrow I have to eat dinner with the new helper. We did the whole pinky promise thing. Remember your stance on making plans here, Jamie. Good gad I cannot wait until vacation.
In other library news that isn't negative, my co-workers are actually starting to crack jokes with me now (oh, and give me aforementioned books about stereotypes. But that was innocent enough), it only took a mere 8 months. One of the books I read for storytelling is called the very hungry caterpillar (yes, mr. eric carle at my service). It tells the story of a hungry caterpillar eventually becoming a butterfly. With each food that said caterpillar eats there's a hole in the page of this HUGE book that this little stuffed caterpillar crawls through. The kids go apeshit for it. And it's a special commodity in the library that only I have access to. So I'm sposed to take special care of this book and its accompanying critter. The other day my co-worker mi hyang comes up to me with the worm in her hand. Apparently it had fallen off the top of the stack of books en route to the office. So she walks up to me and hands me the worm. Then she says "jamie, you are bad mother." Then she put the worm in my pocket and told me he needed to sleep. Funny shit.
I've had a pretty tame weekend, due in part to killer cramps (sorry to the dudes), but Friday night I did go on a veritable tour de alcohol. It began at around 7 when I had dinner with Erica, fike and some of fike's university students. With samgyupsal and Koreans comes soju and beer. And after samgyupsal, soju and beer with Koreans comes makali. So we drank a lot with dinner and immediately following. Erica and I had told peeps we were going to ladies' night, so we still had that obligation to uphold. Here's where the wine entered the picture. At ladies' night I believe I was drunker than I even knew at the time, as I seduced an apple. So me, Erica and rosie left ladies' night to go shoot off fireworks on the roof of sidae. And here's where the whiskey entered the picture. Roman candles plus lit sparklers thrown off a 20 story building=happy fun time. but I don't think the building super thought so. We sort of got caught as we were descending the stairs, but played up the whole "huh, what language are you speaking" thing.
Yesterday, despite all attempts I'd made at an impending hangover the night before, I felt surprisingly well (previously mentioned girl issues aside). Really, the only thing I have to show for my weekend is that I reread winesburg, ohio. But fuck. What a great book. Uplifting it's not, but I thoroughly enjoy[ed] isolating myself and feeling vulnerable and sad. Reading about the dashed dreams and thwarted loves of fictional characters somehow breathes new life into my own sense of possibility.
"one shudders at the thought of the meaninglessness of life while at the same instant, and if the people of the town are his people, one loves life so intensely that tears come into the eyes.
In the darkness under the roof of the grandstand, george willard sat beside Helen white and felt very keenly his own insignificance in the scheme of existence."
I really could go on about this more, but I would hate to sound sappy. Most people have no idea how truly sappy I am. perhaps that's for the best.
I should note that despite most of my ruminations suggesting otherwise, my time in suncheon is treating me quite well. i'm just generally not inclined to waste words on things that make me happy. people are much more long-winded about things they don't like, sentimentality being more looked down upon than pessimism.
Last week Erica and I went in pursuit of some culture in the form of "rock musical" playing at the arts center here in suncheon. Same place that I saw madame butterfly in october and some traditional Korean musicians/storytellers a few months ago (both of which had been surprisingly good). I've been to several musical events now in korea, and for the most part, there's never been much of a problem with the fact that they're all in Korean. And once again, this was not a problem. Which is not to say that the performance was without its flaws. We sat for two hours and witnessed a tour de force of Korean stereotypes and cultural aggrandizement, all set to the tune of hollow, soulless and sporadic bastardizations of "rock" music. But hold on, after two hours, that was just the intermission. Good gad. The gist of the musical was this: some chick with a present to give to someone goes to seoul and gets off at the wrong subway stop. Hilarity and hijinks ensue with each stop—whores, agimas, school kids, crippled people, beggars, etc. great. We left at intermission to go get drunk. Consumed copious amounts of makali and beer between the two of us. It was a nice way to redeem what had been a rather disappointing and annoying evening.
In other news, I have my beginner's drama class again tomorrow afternoon. But get this, I now have two helpers, both competing to win the age contest. In prior posts I had nightmarishly envisioned their meeting—no one telling old helper that she was out and new helper was in. this awkward fantasy came to fruition last Monday. It just keeps getting better every week. Anyhoo, they talk and decide they'll both be helpers. So I'm rejoicing in that, thinking "great, one can be disciplinarian, the other can be translator." But that's not exactly how it worked. Instead of having one helper who does nothing, I now have two. I don't need you to teach, I don't need you to offer advice, I don't really need anything of you, except some discipline and some translation. But instead, I'm yelling just as much as I normally do, but with increased frustration as the two people with power to effect any change seem oblivious to their very positions as authority figures. Yikes. yup, I love Mondays. Starting the day sullenly mopping and saying "I'm better than this" ending the day in tears or near tears feeling helpless. And tomorrow I have to eat dinner with the new helper. We did the whole pinky promise thing. Remember your stance on making plans here, Jamie. Good gad I cannot wait until vacation.
In other library news that isn't negative, my co-workers are actually starting to crack jokes with me now (oh, and give me aforementioned books about stereotypes. But that was innocent enough), it only took a mere 8 months. One of the books I read for storytelling is called the very hungry caterpillar (yes, mr. eric carle at my service). It tells the story of a hungry caterpillar eventually becoming a butterfly. With each food that said caterpillar eats there's a hole in the page of this HUGE book that this little stuffed caterpillar crawls through. The kids go apeshit for it. And it's a special commodity in the library that only I have access to. So I'm sposed to take special care of this book and its accompanying critter. The other day my co-worker mi hyang comes up to me with the worm in her hand. Apparently it had fallen off the top of the stack of books en route to the office. So she walks up to me and hands me the worm. Then she says "jamie, you are bad mother." Then she put the worm in my pocket and told me he needed to sleep. Funny shit.
I've had a pretty tame weekend, due in part to killer cramps (sorry to the dudes), but Friday night I did go on a veritable tour de alcohol. It began at around 7 when I had dinner with Erica, fike and some of fike's university students. With samgyupsal and Koreans comes soju and beer. And after samgyupsal, soju and beer with Koreans comes makali. So we drank a lot with dinner and immediately following. Erica and I had told peeps we were going to ladies' night, so we still had that obligation to uphold. Here's where the wine entered the picture. At ladies' night I believe I was drunker than I even knew at the time, as I seduced an apple. So me, Erica and rosie left ladies' night to go shoot off fireworks on the roof of sidae. And here's where the whiskey entered the picture. Roman candles plus lit sparklers thrown off a 20 story building=happy fun time. but I don't think the building super thought so. We sort of got caught as we were descending the stairs, but played up the whole "huh, what language are you speaking" thing.
Yesterday, despite all attempts I'd made at an impending hangover the night before, I felt surprisingly well (previously mentioned girl issues aside). Really, the only thing I have to show for my weekend is that I reread winesburg, ohio. But fuck. What a great book. Uplifting it's not, but I thoroughly enjoy[ed] isolating myself and feeling vulnerable and sad. Reading about the dashed dreams and thwarted loves of fictional characters somehow breathes new life into my own sense of possibility.
"one shudders at the thought of the meaninglessness of life while at the same instant, and if the people of the town are his people, one loves life so intensely that tears come into the eyes.
In the darkness under the roof of the grandstand, george willard sat beside Helen white and felt very keenly his own insignificance in the scheme of existence."
I really could go on about this more, but I would hate to sound sappy. Most people have no idea how truly sappy I am. perhaps that's for the best.
I should note that despite most of my ruminations suggesting otherwise, my time in suncheon is treating me quite well. i'm just generally not inclined to waste words on things that make me happy. people are much more long-winded about things they don't like, sentimentality being more looked down upon than pessimism.
Friday, May 11, 2007
hey, gifts totally rule!
i just received a gift from my co-workers at the liberry o' miracles.
it's a book called "korean perceptions of the united states: a history of their origins and formation."
i think the actual giving of the gift itself was innocuous enough--"oh, a book written in english. let's give it to jamie." the only disclaimer i was given was "i think maybe it is not interesting." so i opened it up and started reading. cause, hey, i like reading things written in english.
chapter 1: "a historical overview of korean perceptions of the united states: 5 major stereotypes"
without further ado, the top 5:
1. america as a country of uncultured savages and robbers
2. america as a civilized, wealthy, and powerful nation
3. america as an imperialist aggressor
4. america as a racist nation
5. america as a modern-day equivalent of the ancient roman empire (a pessimistic view of western civilization in its entirety)
christmas in may, who'd have thunk it?
time for this savage, racist, aggressive and spiritually/morally bankrupt american to go teach some korean munchkins. assah!
it's a book called "korean perceptions of the united states: a history of their origins and formation."
i think the actual giving of the gift itself was innocuous enough--"oh, a book written in english. let's give it to jamie." the only disclaimer i was given was "i think maybe it is not interesting." so i opened it up and started reading. cause, hey, i like reading things written in english.
chapter 1: "a historical overview of korean perceptions of the united states: 5 major stereotypes"
without further ado, the top 5:
1. america as a country of uncultured savages and robbers
2. america as a civilized, wealthy, and powerful nation
3. america as an imperialist aggressor
4. america as a racist nation
5. america as a modern-day equivalent of the ancient roman empire (a pessimistic view of western civilization in its entirety)
christmas in may, who'd have thunk it?
time for this savage, racist, aggressive and spiritually/morally bankrupt american to go teach some korean munchkins. assah!
Thursday, May 10, 2007
boseong, plans, phones
this past weekend I continued my spree of tourism and went to the boseong green tea festival. "Festival" is, like many words or concepts here, a very loosely interpreted thing. I saw no actual festivities, save the clamoring of the masses to the green tea ice cream stands. I myself settled for chocolate. Because, as I found, people don't wait in line for chocolate ice cream at a green tea festival. 
Boseong was unlike anything I've ever seen. Just a seemingly endless sea of tea spread out before you, with all the rows of green curving away into the hills and trees beyond. And of course lots of inappropriately-clad tourists, stiletto heels the resounding climbing accessory in these parts. What I dislike about excursions like this is that you can never seem to be in a small crowd of people anywhere in this country. There were times when I went to rock bridge park in columbia and wouldn't encounter another human being for hours. It seems like the only way to do that here is to stay locked inside your apartment (which I'm not above, should the need arise). But everyone seems to look down on solitude. It's like if you choose to be alone, you're only saying that it was your choice so people won't feel sorry for you. That's sort of how people make me feel here. A lot of "oh, you poor thing, you went to spiderman 3 all by yourself" looks. And yes, it's a very specific look. But again, there's that collectivist culture again. So I must once again exclaim "damn you, confucius!" and shake an angry fist.
After boseong I wanted to go to a butterfly festival, also in the province, but the weather made me less ambitious than when I initally started my day.
things i don't like: making plans. i hate making plans. because as soon as a plan is made, i immediately want to figure out a way to get out of it. this shit always happens to me when I make plans with pretty much anyone outside of my family (or the mizzou peeps here in suncheon). You want to make someone happy by making them believe they're some sort of priority in your life. but in the end, it really just comes down to what I want to do trumping the feelings of any other human being. More often than not, I have to be in the mood to be around other people. It's something I brace myself for every morning that I wake up.
another thing i hate: the telephone. text messages are fine, but i generally hate speaking on the phone. korean cell phone culture is so different from american cell phone culture (indeed, evidenced by the fact that it gets to be called a "culture"). Koreans don't seem to understand that there are some times (even most of the time for me) that other people who aren't koreans don't want to talk on the phone. If you're not answering, it's seen as a personal affront or an emergency situation. Just because it vibrates (or plays hugh grant singing "way back into love" like all the syncronized phones in my library office) doesn't mean you have to answer it. if you don't answer the phone, people always say "why didn't you answer my call?" I fucking hate that. Because if I say "I just didn't feel like it," they will totally not understand and take it personally.
In other news, I saw spiderman 3 on Sunday afternoon. The theatre was packed, yet I was the only foreigner in the theatre. The aroma of hot, buttered squid combined with agimas and ginseng made for a most pleasant movie-viewing potpourri, completely enabling me to suspend disbelief. an old man and old woman sitting next to me kept explaining various parts of the movie to each other. It was pretty damn cute. All in all it was a movie that didn't defy expectations. It was also very, very loud. I sat there the whole time with my fingers in my ears, removing them periodically to eat kimbop.
I discovered an amazing bar over the weekend that boasts 50 cent beers. Okay, it's just a promotional special, but the 3 times I've been there now have been cheap and wonderful. It's also a "mexican" restaurant. I'm sure most koreans haven't ever even seen a "mexican." At any rate, their ketchup plus corn=salsa combination is something I'll have to try in the future.
Boseong was unlike anything I've ever seen. Just a seemingly endless sea of tea spread out before you, with all the rows of green curving away into the hills and trees beyond. And of course lots of inappropriately-clad tourists, stiletto heels the resounding climbing accessory in these parts. What I dislike about excursions like this is that you can never seem to be in a small crowd of people anywhere in this country. There were times when I went to rock bridge park in columbia and wouldn't encounter another human being for hours. It seems like the only way to do that here is to stay locked inside your apartment (which I'm not above, should the need arise). But everyone seems to look down on solitude. It's like if you choose to be alone, you're only saying that it was your choice so people won't feel sorry for you. That's sort of how people make me feel here. A lot of "oh, you poor thing, you went to spiderman 3 all by yourself" looks. And yes, it's a very specific look. But again, there's that collectivist culture again. So I must once again exclaim "damn you, confucius!" and shake an angry fist.
After boseong I wanted to go to a butterfly festival, also in the province, but the weather made me less ambitious than when I initally started my day.
things i don't like: making plans. i hate making plans. because as soon as a plan is made, i immediately want to figure out a way to get out of it. this shit always happens to me when I make plans with pretty much anyone outside of my family (or the mizzou peeps here in suncheon). You want to make someone happy by making them believe they're some sort of priority in your life. but in the end, it really just comes down to what I want to do trumping the feelings of any other human being. More often than not, I have to be in the mood to be around other people. It's something I brace myself for every morning that I wake up.
another thing i hate: the telephone. text messages are fine, but i generally hate speaking on the phone. korean cell phone culture is so different from american cell phone culture (indeed, evidenced by the fact that it gets to be called a "culture"). Koreans don't seem to understand that there are some times (even most of the time for me) that other people who aren't koreans don't want to talk on the phone. If you're not answering, it's seen as a personal affront or an emergency situation. Just because it vibrates (or plays hugh grant singing "way back into love" like all the syncronized phones in my library office) doesn't mean you have to answer it. if you don't answer the phone, people always say "why didn't you answer my call?" I fucking hate that. Because if I say "I just didn't feel like it," they will totally not understand and take it personally.
In other news, I saw spiderman 3 on Sunday afternoon. The theatre was packed, yet I was the only foreigner in the theatre. The aroma of hot, buttered squid combined with agimas and ginseng made for a most pleasant movie-viewing potpourri, completely enabling me to suspend disbelief. an old man and old woman sitting next to me kept explaining various parts of the movie to each other. It was pretty damn cute. All in all it was a movie that didn't defy expectations. It was also very, very loud. I sat there the whole time with my fingers in my ears, removing them periodically to eat kimbop.
I discovered an amazing bar over the weekend that boasts 50 cent beers. Okay, it's just a promotional special, but the 3 times I've been there now have been cheap and wonderful. It's also a "mexican" restaurant. I'm sure most koreans haven't ever even seen a "mexican." At any rate, their ketchup plus corn=salsa combination is something I'll have to try in the future.
Friday, May 04, 2007
waterloo and [maybe] pig's anus
i feel a little barfy today. this could be due to the fact that i ate some questionable pig meat (pork, whatever) last night. i saw pictures of a pig on the sign, and then a list of meats whose names i couldn't recognize. so i just said "duegi?" the friendly man brought a plate of fat worm-like tubular things that looked like they were plucked straight out of fear factor. so i think i ate either pig asshole or pig intestines. at any rate, it was fucking narsty.
across the street at the elementary school, "waterloo" by abba is on repeat while a bunch of munchkins march around waving korean flags or doing jumping jacks or performing some other highly random physical act. and after many months in korea now, this is only slightly surreal. it was the same thing yesterday at the maegokdong elementary school. i think abba would be pleased to know they are the theme music for tons of happy, south korean children.
across the street at the elementary school, "waterloo" by abba is on repeat while a bunch of munchkins march around waving korean flags or doing jumping jacks or performing some other highly random physical act. and after many months in korea now, this is only slightly surreal. it was the same thing yesterday at the maegokdong elementary school. i think abba would be pleased to know they are the theme music for tons of happy, south korean children.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
busan
It's official. I have the slowest computer in the history of mankind (including the mostly pre-computer eras). But hey, it was free so I have no room or reason to complain.
I think I came to a pessimistic conclusion about things [and also stuff] yesterday. a vague, blanket statement that I configured only after some very specific events transpired. Said conclusion is this: after really good things happen, or even mildly pleasant things, or just things that don't make you want to cry, it is inevitable that these fortunate events of life smiling upon you will be immediately followed by either really shitty or just sort of sucky events. Life is not smiling at all, it's violently performing some other verb with a negative connotation. At any rate, something that makes you cry and/or feel defeated. I have to be honest though, I'm not sure if it's actually a pattern or not, just how I feel at this particular moment. I shall explain…
I had my beginner's drama class yesterday for 2 fucking hours. I was also sans Korean "helper" teacher (the previously referenced grannie with gold teeth and even less classroom management skill in her native language of Korean than me), although I've already explained how "helper" is loosely interpreted to mean "one who does nothing, least of all what her title would suggest." And you're probably thinking, "well, if she does nothing, then why does it matter if she's there or not?" and I ask myself that question too. Maybe my rage is diffused because she actually is really nice (you know, like grandmas are nice. Unless they're my grandma, in which case they're total cunts…) and it's comforting to have someone else there who, like me, also has a complete lack of control over these heathens. Commiseration is a universal language. In all actuality yesterday's class was probably better than some other classes in the past, as long as we're not holding the complete lack of progress for the past two months against the little assholes. But the fact that she wasn't there, that my class that is so clearly struggling is optional for her sort of pisses me off. And again, this is unfounded. She's an unpaid volunteer. Perhaps it is how unwarranted my anger towards this woman is that has me so, I don't know, angry.
Anyhoo, we meet once a week for two hours. They were sposed to have their lines memorized this week. What the fuck ever. People show up 45 minutes late to class on a regular basis and then ask me "when do we get a break?" some French peeps were at the library observing yesterday too, so a whole bunch of suits—Korean and French—walk in and they act like angels. then peoples' moms and littler siblings just wander freely in and out of the classroom drooling all over themselves and stumbling uncertainly on their little legs (no, not the moms…) to remind little su-hyun that his umbrella's sitting in the chair for him or dinner is at 6:15 or not to forget his jacket or some other asinine detail that can't possibly wait until class is over. At the end of class, I sat them all down and made each one of them apologize to me individually. When they left, I lost it. And my co-worker saw me. And she was surprised. But even she sat there watching the class while I had to actually scream over these people to get them to even acknowledge that I was there. And she didn't say anything to them. I'm fine with the Friday class being loud and obnoxious sometimes, but that's only because they can actually speak english and have expressed some personal interest in the outcome of this, their trophy english play. The little ones haven't been told to care yet. So yeah, It's been a little while since work made me burst into tears. Nice to be reminded that, yes, this does happen to me semi-regularly.
I think what made yesterday so acutely horrible was that I spent the weekend in busan on the beach and my entire outlook on korea seemed to change, albeit only for two days apparently. So busan was the really good thing followed by the jolt of the very negative english drama class.
But back to busan and pretty happy things.
On Friday night I boarded a bus to busan with 2 minutes to spare—lonely planet and impractically stuffed backpack in tow for impending adventure. I really can't explain the pleasure I take in riding the bus or train or taking any mode of transportation away from here. It's an equation where, in my mind, the actual physical movement of the bus signifies inherent progress. Something is being done, and you need only sit there to be a part of it. When you're on the bus and it's dark and quiet and the bus driver has even afforded you the brief pleasure of turning off the Korean soap opera or variety show, those are really good moments. People have no choice but to put their lives on hold. the surreptitious accumulation of these dark, quiet moments stolen for myself is one of my most revered Korean accomplishments. I think it's on the bus or the train that I'm the most consciously aware of where I am, even if I can't point to it on a map.
When I was back in Missouri between stints in korea, I helped with a program at mizzou called PEPI. There were only two participants in this program and they were
both from busan. Jules and I took them to see Calexico in st. louis and hung out with them drinking beer and generally personifying typical Columbia Missouri life. So the plan was to meet up with them in their hometown. Jaeho and wuhyun. Jaeho met me at the bus station and we went to a bbq restaurant in the busan national university area while waiting for wuhyun to show up. I must make a note about the university areas of korea. It doesn't matter how big, small, reputable or disreputable the university, all the drinking and shopping and eating areas in these areas all over the country look exactly the same. There's something to be said for homogeneity here in these parts. And I think I just said it, or part of it.
Anyhoo, met up with wuhyun, ate some food, went to two more bars, went back to wuhyun's family's apartment so I could sleep in his little sister's room. Both he and jaeho were so accommodating to my every need or admittedly touristy desire. This was such a sharp contrast to a lot of the Korean peeps I met in columbia who promised to hang out with me or help me with anything that I needed when I got here, as I would like to think I did for them when they were in my town. While some of them have more than upheld this offer, there are just as many who have had nothing to do with me since I've gotten here, unless to ask for help with something at the last minute or to try to molest me in the wee hours of the morning. But jaeho and wuhyun actually wanted to hang out with me instead of making it seem like it was some sort of dutiful obligation.
Bright and early on Saturday we went to haeundae beach and the APEC convention center/park place thingy. I think that was its official title. Apparently george bush-ee spoke here or something a few years ago. I dunno, nor do I really care. But now I have a picture of him in another picture wearing traditional Korean clothes. the beach was (as it always is for me) all manner of superlatives. i can count the times i've actually been to a beach on one hand—yeosu, sokcho, busan and viarregio (italy). each an entirely different experience. "he who looks on the sea, sees it the first time, every time, with the wonder distilled from elementary things." Sounds about right.
In the beginning of the day I went to haeundae and another beach with jaeho, his girlfriend and wuhyun. Jaeho had a car, or he had his girlfriend's car, so it was nice to not have to worry about transportation for most of the whole day on Saturday. After more sightseeing, including an amazing Buddhist temple in the side of some cliffs (I actually bowed twice to Buddha. That was pretty cool), checked into a love motel named "roma." My bed was circular and my tub had Jacuzzi jets, you know, just like rome has. Big pimpin.
Later that night I went out and about into the seomyeon area. Lots of people, lots of bars, honestly not too different from the whole university area bar scene. There was a particular microbrewery I wanted to find, so I navigated the subway by myself and eventually found the place. Quite the triumph considering my bad luck with the lonely planet in daejeon. Damn you, murphy's bar (shaking angry fist in air)! My thirst for something other than hite or cass went unslaked, as there was an hour wait and the microbrewery wasn't too keen on seating one person. So then my tactic was to go to a hole in the wall bar and wax poetic, sipping on a shitty beer, mulling over my perceived misfortunes. I found the perfect place, reminded me of a bar I used to go to in chuncheon near jules and rory's apartment (the one above the chicken place where jules gave the dude my number. They know what I'm talking about). There was no one in the bar, and the woman apologized for that. But I told her it was okay. Then some already drunk dudes, (one wearing a ripped shirt as he had come to this particular bar to evade a fight he had started moments before) fell into the bar and interrupted my solitude. but the one who had just escaped his own fight could actually speak pretty good english underneath the thick drunken stupor. In korea they sort of look down on people doing things alone. Thanks, Confucius. I get shit all the time for traveling alone, eating lunch and dinner alone, drinking alone, etc. so these dudes were very persistent in getting me to sit with them and chat. So I sat for a while. They bought me beer. Then they insisted we go to the bar next door. I agreed. They seemed to me harmless and remarkably little men. At the bar next door I got the whole "are you Russian" question. It became obvious then that the primary demographic in the new bar was middle aged Korean suits. all banking on the Russian thing. so I told them I was an american, chugged the rest of the beer they paid for and promptly left. Just in time for the last subway back to the haeundae area where roma was.
I got off the subway, immediately bought two beers and headed back to the beach. Though a beach in daylight is a beautiful thing to behold, so too is a beach in the earliest of morning hours. sunday morning still clinging to the vestiges of saturday night. the great, black abyss dotted by the light of the boats floating on the slight curvature of the horizon. piss warm beer. roman candles. Alone. There seems to me something beautifully tragic about dressing up to go sit alone on the beach and mull over my own loneliness, simultaneously 
doing everything in my power to ensure it at that moment.
Next day I went to the largest fish seafood market in korea (jagalchi) and the Russian/Chinese district before heading home on the bus. Jaeho even met me at the bus terminal to buy me lunch before I left. He and wuhyun refused to let me pay for anything while I was in their care. Not even ice cream. I felt extremely pampered.
busan was exactly what I needed. The whole experience made me feel a little more optimistic about korea and my life in general.
It's nice to find things besides food and drink that fall into a country's cultural profile. the beach made me think for one moment (or for 2 days, I guess) that maybe korea wastn't as aloof and materialistic as it seems sometimes. that there were things that made people here happy besides clothing and consumerism. i realize at this point that this was perhaps too much pressure to put on a poor, innocent little beach. but busan had restored my oft-referenced sense of possibility. Then I went to work yesterday and my sense of possibility died. For the 1,000th time.
I think I came to a pessimistic conclusion about things [and also stuff] yesterday. a vague, blanket statement that I configured only after some very specific events transpired. Said conclusion is this: after really good things happen, or even mildly pleasant things, or just things that don't make you want to cry, it is inevitable that these fortunate events of life smiling upon you will be immediately followed by either really shitty or just sort of sucky events. Life is not smiling at all, it's violently performing some other verb with a negative connotation. At any rate, something that makes you cry and/or feel defeated. I have to be honest though, I'm not sure if it's actually a pattern or not, just how I feel at this particular moment. I shall explain…
I had my beginner's drama class yesterday for 2 fucking hours. I was also sans Korean "helper" teacher (the previously referenced grannie with gold teeth and even less classroom management skill in her native language of Korean than me), although I've already explained how "helper" is loosely interpreted to mean "one who does nothing, least of all what her title would suggest." And you're probably thinking, "well, if she does nothing, then why does it matter if she's there or not?" and I ask myself that question too. Maybe my rage is diffused because she actually is really nice (you know, like grandmas are nice. Unless they're my grandma, in which case they're total cunts…) and it's comforting to have someone else there who, like me, also has a complete lack of control over these heathens. Commiseration is a universal language. In all actuality yesterday's class was probably better than some other classes in the past, as long as we're not holding the complete lack of progress for the past two months against the little assholes. But the fact that she wasn't there, that my class that is so clearly struggling is optional for her sort of pisses me off. And again, this is unfounded. She's an unpaid volunteer. Perhaps it is how unwarranted my anger towards this woman is that has me so, I don't know, angry.
Anyhoo, we meet once a week for two hours. They were sposed to have their lines memorized this week. What the fuck ever. People show up 45 minutes late to class on a regular basis and then ask me "when do we get a break?" some French peeps were at the library observing yesterday too, so a whole bunch of suits—Korean and French—walk in and they act like angels. then peoples' moms and littler siblings just wander freely in and out of the classroom drooling all over themselves and stumbling uncertainly on their little legs (no, not the moms…) to remind little su-hyun that his umbrella's sitting in the chair for him or dinner is at 6:15 or not to forget his jacket or some other asinine detail that can't possibly wait until class is over. At the end of class, I sat them all down and made each one of them apologize to me individually. When they left, I lost it. And my co-worker saw me. And she was surprised. But even she sat there watching the class while I had to actually scream over these people to get them to even acknowledge that I was there. And she didn't say anything to them. I'm fine with the Friday class being loud and obnoxious sometimes, but that's only because they can actually speak english and have expressed some personal interest in the outcome of this, their trophy english play. The little ones haven't been told to care yet. So yeah, It's been a little while since work made me burst into tears. Nice to be reminded that, yes, this does happen to me semi-regularly.
I think what made yesterday so acutely horrible was that I spent the weekend in busan on the beach and my entire outlook on korea seemed to change, albeit only for two days apparently. So busan was the really good thing followed by the jolt of the very negative english drama class.
But back to busan and pretty happy things.On Friday night I boarded a bus to busan with 2 minutes to spare—lonely planet and impractically stuffed backpack in tow for impending adventure. I really can't explain the pleasure I take in riding the bus or train or taking any mode of transportation away from here. It's an equation where, in my mind, the actual physical movement of the bus signifies inherent progress. Something is being done, and you need only sit there to be a part of it. When you're on the bus and it's dark and quiet and the bus driver has even afforded you the brief pleasure of turning off the Korean soap opera or variety show, those are really good moments. People have no choice but to put their lives on hold. the surreptitious accumulation of these dark, quiet moments stolen for myself is one of my most revered Korean accomplishments. I think it's on the bus or the train that I'm the most consciously aware of where I am, even if I can't point to it on a map.
When I was back in Missouri between stints in korea, I helped with a program at mizzou called PEPI. There were only two participants in this program and they were
both from busan. Jules and I took them to see Calexico in st. louis and hung out with them drinking beer and generally personifying typical Columbia Missouri life. So the plan was to meet up with them in their hometown. Jaeho and wuhyun. Jaeho met me at the bus station and we went to a bbq restaurant in the busan national university area while waiting for wuhyun to show up. I must make a note about the university areas of korea. It doesn't matter how big, small, reputable or disreputable the university, all the drinking and shopping and eating areas in these areas all over the country look exactly the same. There's something to be said for homogeneity here in these parts. And I think I just said it, or part of it.Anyhoo, met up with wuhyun, ate some food, went to two more bars, went back to wuhyun's family's apartment so I could sleep in his little sister's room. Both he and jaeho were so accommodating to my every need or admittedly touristy desire. This was such a sharp contrast to a lot of the Korean peeps I met in columbia who promised to hang out with me or help me with anything that I needed when I got here, as I would like to think I did for them when they were in my town. While some of them have more than upheld this offer, there are just as many who have had nothing to do with me since I've gotten here, unless to ask for help with something at the last minute or to try to molest me in the wee hours of the morning. But jaeho and wuhyun actually wanted to hang out with me instead of making it seem like it was some sort of dutiful obligation.
Bright and early on Saturday we went to haeundae beach and the APEC convention center/park place thingy. I think that was its official title. Apparently george bush-ee spoke here or something a few years ago. I dunno, nor do I really care. But now I have a picture of him in another picture wearing traditional Korean clothes. the beach was (as it always is for me) all manner of superlatives. i can count the times i've actually been to a beach on one hand—yeosu, sokcho, busan and viarregio (italy). each an entirely different experience. "he who looks on the sea, sees it the first time, every time, with the wonder distilled from elementary things." Sounds about right.
In the beginning of the day I went to haeundae and another beach with jaeho, his girlfriend and wuhyun. Jaeho had a car, or he had his girlfriend's car, so it was nice to not have to worry about transportation for most of the whole day on Saturday. After more sightseeing, including an amazing Buddhist temple in the side of some cliffs (I actually bowed twice to Buddha. That was pretty cool), checked into a love motel named "roma." My bed was circular and my tub had Jacuzzi jets, you know, just like rome has. Big pimpin.
Later that night I went out and about into the seomyeon area. Lots of people, lots of bars, honestly not too different from the whole university area bar scene. There was a particular microbrewery I wanted to find, so I navigated the subway by myself and eventually found the place. Quite the triumph considering my bad luck with the lonely planet in daejeon. Damn you, murphy's bar (shaking angry fist in air)! My thirst for something other than hite or cass went unslaked, as there was an hour wait and the microbrewery wasn't too keen on seating one person. So then my tactic was to go to a hole in the wall bar and wax poetic, sipping on a shitty beer, mulling over my perceived misfortunes. I found the perfect place, reminded me of a bar I used to go to in chuncheon near jules and rory's apartment (the one above the chicken place where jules gave the dude my number. They know what I'm talking about). There was no one in the bar, and the woman apologized for that. But I told her it was okay. Then some already drunk dudes, (one wearing a ripped shirt as he had come to this particular bar to evade a fight he had started moments before) fell into the bar and interrupted my solitude. but the one who had just escaped his own fight could actually speak pretty good english underneath the thick drunken stupor. In korea they sort of look down on people doing things alone. Thanks, Confucius. I get shit all the time for traveling alone, eating lunch and dinner alone, drinking alone, etc. so these dudes were very persistent in getting me to sit with them and chat. So I sat for a while. They bought me beer. Then they insisted we go to the bar next door. I agreed. They seemed to me harmless and remarkably little men. At the bar next door I got the whole "are you Russian" question. It became obvious then that the primary demographic in the new bar was middle aged Korean suits. all banking on the Russian thing. so I told them I was an american, chugged the rest of the beer they paid for and promptly left. Just in time for the last subway back to the haeundae area where roma was.
I got off the subway, immediately bought two beers and headed back to the beach. Though a beach in daylight is a beautiful thing to behold, so too is a beach in the earliest of morning hours. sunday morning still clinging to the vestiges of saturday night. the great, black abyss dotted by the light of the boats floating on the slight curvature of the horizon. piss warm beer. roman candles. Alone. There seems to me something beautifully tragic about dressing up to go sit alone on the beach and mull over my own loneliness, simultaneously 
doing everything in my power to ensure it at that moment.Next day I went to the largest fish seafood market in korea (jagalchi) and the Russian/Chinese district before heading home on the bus. Jaeho even met me at the bus terminal to buy me lunch before I left. He and wuhyun refused to let me pay for anything while I was in their care. Not even ice cream. I felt extremely pampered.
busan was exactly what I needed. The whole experience made me feel a little more optimistic about korea and my life in general.
It's nice to find things besides food and drink that fall into a country's cultural profile. the beach made me think for one moment (or for 2 days, I guess) that maybe korea wastn't as aloof and materialistic as it seems sometimes. that there were things that made people here happy besides clothing and consumerism. i realize at this point that this was perhaps too much pressure to put on a poor, innocent little beach. but busan had restored my oft-referenced sense of possibility. Then I went to work yesterday and my sense of possibility died. For the 1,000th time.
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