2010: I Blinked and Missed It

In a previous post called "Purple Sneakers" I took a shot of this - the entry to Imae-dong 2 which includes my school - at the height of summer. Our recent heavy snowfall has made summer's humidity and deafening chorus of cicadas a distant memory.


Readers, I've cheered up somewhat. Thought I should start with that. Too many people tell me I am pessimistic and should smile more often. As I remove them from my address book, I lightly examine what I experience as my reasonably well-balanced disposition (once again thankyou Dr. Spencer and lithium 1150mg/daily). I never conclude that being serious is somehow "wrong." I remain happy with being the glass-is-bisected-by-equal-parts-air-and-liquid realistic type of guy I am. Anyway, this week, those who possess a sand bar for a personality have gotten their wish. Happy New Year: Lachlan Teacher is truly enjoying Korea and his job as well.

Admittedly, all but 20 of our winter camp students have gone home for the vacation, and there are no staff members stealing my lunch either, but happiness is happiness folks. The Buddha was wrong: it's not always something built from within, composed of "thoughts" and "attitude." Sometimes it is the absence of 780 screaming and diseased children from your staffroom and their replacement by a small group of kids who are actually showing signs of wanting to learn, combined with the promise of a piping hot bowl of jjigae from your favourite hole-in-the-wall restaurant (you actually eat in the kitchen) for 4 bucks every day. Where's the sutra on that fatty? Here's another picture:




Yatap, early morning, mid-December 2010. Note the crescent moon up high.





This is the park next to the Tancheon River which I walk beside every morning. It is hard work getting through all of that freshly fallen snow! The kids love it though - snowball fights, snowmen, snow sledding, snow soccer, snow penises and snow vaginas. I like it because I rarely see it. Snow, that is.

The perfect end to the perfect year. That's what this is, despite all of its shortcomings. Where did it go? I fell asleep in a young Swedish girl's bed early in January; recently I woke and I was teaching Korean kids how to sit in a chair. What's the lesson here? Don't fall asleep? Korea is the place to do that.

I value my sleep however, which is why tonight I've chosen to stay in. On this night of nights, NYE, the second last before armageddon, I've had a coffee with my pal Mitja and am back at 10pm to do a spot of blogging before turning in on this last night of the year. I aim to sleep until my name turns to Rip van Murray. Next year I have some important work to do on happiness...





Me here with Imae Elementary's English-speaking staff, taken on the boat ride to Namisum island. On the left of the picture is Lucy, my co-teacher. Next to me on the other side is Suna, who teaches grades 3 and 4, and then Mark, who took English last year.





Lucy suggested I stand in this pose, though I didn't know of its significance. Namisum Island was the setting for the 2005 Korean drama "Winter Sonata." There was a scene from the drama in which the major players, a young couple, strike this pose and look all happy in front of this long line of metasequoia trees. In this re-creation, and in the absence of any obliging young women, we've had to forgo the basic idea of a happy couple being in love and replace it with a tipsy-looking young man looking skyward in order to hitch a ride to another planet. It's not quite the same but at least we tried.





And this was my Christmas tree this year.

Christmas

Nothing special to report. One lunchtime Xmas party involving pizza and a lot of hungover American college students, followed by a dinner with a different group of intellectual Americans too cool to participate in drinking games or even in conversation.

The rest of this blog shall be censored. Merry bloody Christmas. Come Armageddon, come.

CHOINA!!!

Readers, just to help me envisage my itinerary as much as to inform you:

I leave Bundang on Wednesday January 12. We had to push it back 4 days because if I left on the Saturday (8th) as previously arranged the timing with the Lunar New Year holiday meant that I would come back to school (and Korea) for 2 days before having another 5 day break. The previous principal would most likely have just given me the extra 2 days off and bridged the 2 holidays - champion that he was - but the new principal has sadly not shown any signs of championness yet, and it's 3 months into her reign of terror. Sorry, did I say reign of terror? I meant to say tenure. I often confuse the two.

So - ferry from Incheon to Weihai, a small city on China's east coast, docking at 9 in the morning. I'm gonna reserve a plush cabin to myself as a reward for putting up with poor people for so long now.

I'll get the bus in the morning straight over to Qingdao. The 2 cities are only 3 hours away from each other. I would have gotten the ferry straight to Qingers but it doesn't run on Wednesday, only Thursday. I have worked my itinerary so that I spend maximum time outside of Korea. See?

Then I'll spend a night in Qingdao, famous for its beer, Tsingtao. Actually the beer was named after the city, and they're the same word, the first one having been translated through the internationally accepted pinyin system, and the second through the now outdated but fashionable (like the Atari) Wade-Giles system. Pinyin: Nanjing. Wade-Giles: Nanking. Pinyin: Beijing. W-G: Peking. Get it?

Then I'll head off via an early train down to Nanjing and spend a few days snooping around at historical stuff and staying at the Longmenjie Binguan, who according to Lonely Planet (which might as well say "you might as well consult the stars") don't speak English, so I've been cramming with Chinese lessons down at Charlie's cafe in the evenings. And for those of you who were also fortunate enough to grow up in the greatest town in the country, that ain't a take away joint serving hamburgers for 2 bucks 50, though if you sit down and pay him 8 dollars, he'll bring you one on a chopping board with skewers sticking out of it, served with some lettuce and drizzly stuff to make it look gourmet. Note to self: start research on the Loinly Planet Handbook ASAP. I'm starting to get cranky again.

Then a bus or train to Shangers, where I'll stay a few days. Can't wait to see the Bund and some of the other things from the days of colonisation. I'm also staying at a kick arse hostel on the Bund with a bar upstairs with views of the Huangpu River. As soon as I read "bar upstairs" I was sold!

Then the overnight train all the way to Xian. Trains are apparently pretty good in China. You can get a cheap sleeper, but if I really need to sleep it might be advisable to upgrade and go for the soft sleeper. The soft sleeper is usually just for party officials - and westerners who can afford it because they've been living on gimbap in Korea for the last 8 months. Happy days!

Xian - terracotta warriors and an affair with a French backpacker named Amelie. Gotta think positive readers ;)

Then I'll go to Datong - look it up on the map. It ain't the biggest of Chinese cities but it is gateway to the spectacular Yungang Caves. I'm gonna spend the day there readers. Just sitting and stuff. You know. Getting away. Slowing down.



One of the many photos of Yungang Caves on offer on google images. Check some of them out - they're lovely.

Then Beijing! Which kind defeats the purpose of decompressing in Yungang but there you go. i'll spend a week there because there's lots of things to do and stuff! You've probably heard of Beijing before.

Then I'll head north to Harbin. No I am not kidding. Yes it is cold up there. I can take it. The question is - is Harbin ready for me? Any takers? I didn't think so. Then I'll go to Shenyang for a night, then Dalian for a night and get a Sunday night flight home (courtesy of Expedia, bless 'em) and be back in Bundang ready for Monday morning classes!

Though I won't be ready - I'll be marking the days on my calendar until I can come home and start somewhere more promising!

Be nice.

Spot The Difference and Win a Prize

Wait a tick, readers. I just thought I spotted a similarity between this photo of the inside of my apartment building...




...and this one of Seodaemun prison taken a few weeks ago:




Cheerio!

The Busan Edition

I fear it may be one of those evenings where I get drunk in front of the computer and write things I later regret. You'll have to excuse me. Today has been a particularly bad day and I turn to the greatest set of remedies I know: token meditation, followed by 2 bottles of red, Morrissey and Cold Chisel on repeat, and a new blog entry tapped out with an aggressive snarl and two rigid, pointed index fingers.

My Chinese trip hangs in the balance now as the new principal overturned something I had organised with my manager 2 months ago (specifically to avoid this happening). Her power within the school overrules whatever my contract might say. This Friday she will tell us if we can begin winter camp on December 27, as we already planned, or if she wants to shift it to the middle of January and ruin my plans.

And my 6-4 class went haywire too. And they did it the moment my co-teacher walked out of the room too. After I'd said my piece, and sent them packing, 4 students came to apologise to me in my staffroom. "Is there anything you want us to do to make it better?" they said. I think they had candy in mind. God knows, but that's how it is over here. Angry people are placated with chocolates and other items of food. I however, actually want them to change. Their attitude is rubbish. That's why I repeatedly ask them for their attention, and say they shouldn't do this, or that, or whatever. Do I want anything? Yes - change your behaviour. That request has always be the same.

I think this generation of Korean kids has been raised on a collection of electronic items that don't get shitty if you ignore them and they therefore struggle to change their attitudes for the classroom, where there is a real human being at the front. They often seem genuinely repentant if they realise they've pissed off the teacher; the problem being that I have to change the tone of my voice or shout to grab their attention in the first place. Anyway, I'm no longer angry. It must be the wine from HomePlus.

A shitty class and a crappy employer. Big dicking deal.

On this weekend past I travelled with the lovely Joelle to South Korea's second (or third perhaps) largest city. It is in the south east of the country and is home to the 5th largest port in the world (what is this obsession with the size of things?). Gyeongsan-do province has historically been one the rich provinces, along with Gyeonggi-do, where I am. That makes for a kind of northwest-southeast line of traffic in the country. We booked for the 7:03PM Seoul-Busan KTX (very fast train) on Friday night, which reduces the 379 km journey to a mere 2 and a half hours. Between Daejeon and Daegu the train noticeably picks up speed and is said to reach a top of 300 km/h. Outside of those areas it goes alright too, but just at the speed of a normal intercity train. Even so, it doesn't take long to traverse this country.

Once again my camera was shitting itself for the big occasion so I didn't record the magnificence of the weekend in all its...magnificence? Truth is, it was an absolute belter of a weekend. Jubes and I squeezed a lot into a short and precious period of time. I feared it was going to go belly up for a moment however: Joelle's body clock is all over the shop as she doesn't work. On Saturday morning she was sleeping in and I worried about how much of our short weekend we were going to lose to Captain Snooze. Then I remembered that we weren't in a relationship and I had no obligation to stay! Oh the miracle of being single and lonely and having forgotten what affection is!

So I told her I was off to find this temple I'd read about in Lonely Planet and I'd catch her at lunch. They made it sound like a real mission to find but that it was worth every bit of effort. I later discovered that only one of these statements were true. It was indeed a true gem and a genuine nugget of Buddhist beauty; one of those rare "so-not-everything-in-Korea-is-draining-of-spirit-then" moments.



Seokbulsa temple is tucked up in the mountains of Geumjeong park. I took the cable car to the top of the mountain, followed the signs to South Gate, then followed the directions of Lonely Planet down a ridiculously steep mountainside, then up another one. There was of course a much simpler, unpublished way of getting there just on the other side.

On the mountaintop I meditated. Fancy that. Me, in a foreign country, meditating in the epicentre of a remote and beautiful Buddhist temple perched on a mountaintop. I need these reminders. Meditation is what saved me after all.

Then I was accosted by a group of about 12 middle school girls who acted as if I was the 2nd or 3rd native English speaker they had met. Possibly true. I heard them coming and shuddered. By the end of our acquaintance I had cheered up enormously and wished I been placed somewhere outside of Bundang, where you can find these kids that delight in asking simple questions to foreigners. My students are all jaded and fed up with English this and English that. I don't really blame them. These girls did all the cliched things: asked where I was from and did I like Korea (a little white lying never hurt anyone eh?) and could they touch the hair on my forearm. I forget how hairy I am in comparison to Korean men. The other day I stretched in class and my midriff was exposed.

"Teacher you look like chimpanzee" was the call from the back.

"Like A chimpanzee, whoever that was" the reply.



Haeundae Beach, where Joelle and I watched the people and talked about stuff for an afternoon, before starting the walk over to Gwanganli, only to realise it was much too far and that we should just get a taxi to Jagalchi fish market.



This is Joelle! She's about to tuck into an oyster at Jagalchi. We have our differences but seem able to talk about them without me getting too shirty. We've gone on two trips together now and we're still friends. Actually she's a wonderful person and one of the 3 or 4 here in Korea that have truly made life better for me over here.

At Jagalchi I ate a few live octopus tentacles and survived. They were wriggling around on my chopsticks and stuck to my tongue as I tried to grind them up with my teeth. It's funny how the claim of the just-landed - "I'd never eat that" - becomes "Yeah sure" just like that. The deal is, you walk around the bottom floor checking out all of the fish in their tanks and then select from your chosen vendor which one you'd like to eat. Sometimes they don't even kill it for you which kind of makes the service charge a rort but other times (like when we were there) you get to watch the vendor chop off its head and blood spurt all over him and I believe that is included in the service charge.



This little gem was just near Busan station. To paraphrase Tony Martin's joke, I believe you get a 50% discount on your room if you can prove it actually exists.

Constant Cravings

I've just discovered kd lang. I know, her breakthrough "Constant Craving" was released 19 years ago now, but I've always been slow on the pop music front. My verdict? She's terrific! And she sings about difficulties in love mostly, which is a fitting backdrop to this Sunday evening's blogging, as I am thinking about how everything I do in this sphere invariably turns out all wrong in the end.

The sickness has lingered for 2 weeks now. It's as much of a get-me-out-of-Korea-and-get-me-out-now sickness as it is the common flu. I'm suddenly repulsed by this place. The people. The staring. The food. The school lunches. The congestion. The congestion on the subway. On the footpath. In shops. In HomePlus. Everywhere but in my apartment. The rudeness. The hurriedness-to-get-nowhere. Slow people who don't get out of the way. The fashions. Seohyeon. My phone. HomePlus. Especially HomePlus. Seaweed. Rows and rows of seaweed. The scarcity of cheese. What they think a "sandwich" is. How they call it a "sandwichy." What they do to bread. (Why don't you just stick shit through my letterbox?) The absence of pubs. The way people give you a menu when you go out for a drink. The traffic. Especially the traffic. That and HomePlus. HomePlus is only over the road but you can guarantee I'll almost get squashed on the way. Even with the green man. I HAD THE GREEN MAN!!!

The guy watching me put my recycling out. The family watching me check my letterbox. The 70 somethings by the river watching me exercise. The food. The stomach cramps. The way I can't even eat toast anymore without experiencing pains. The bottled water. The drunk and crying men at the chicken hof underneath my window at night. Anyone who drives. People who walk at the same time as me. Foreigners. Foreigners who act like Korea is one big college party. Foreigners who love everything Korean the minute they arrive. The way my co teacher expects me to read her mind, after weeks of next to no communication. The way people think soju is just "fun." The way people believe every food increases "virility and stamina." The way some people extend this believe even to soju. Especially when it's the drunken crying man at the chicken hof, who doesn't look virile at all but rather like a drunken late middle aged taxi driver.

The way work has become a God. The neglect of children. The way children are forced to study. The way the volume of study they do robs them of their childhoods. The neglect of wives. The neglect of families in favour of work and social climbing. The way this creates legions of bitter middle aged women. The way they then make being a pedestrian much harder than it should be.



The author points the finger for all his maladies - past and present - fairly and squarely at the ROK.

Yesterday I spent the day at a place called Seodaemun, in the west of Seoul, with travelling buddy Sarah. As keen history students, we both had the desire to investigate the Seodaemun Prison History Hall. This structure was used by both Koreans and Japanese over the 20th Century for incarcerating dissidents to their respective regimes. As the Japanese annexed the peninsula in 1910 they locked up anyone suspected of fomenting rebellion in their new territory. Many Korean nationalists met their deaths in this gory complex. We were able to see the solitary confinement chambers and the execution building - the one part of the complex off limits to photography. We also witnessed the original torture chambers and some techniques which gave me some good ideas for the classroom.



One of the rows of cells at Seodaemun




The new Seoul looks down onto the old. In fact, from the tops of these residential towers it's possible to see down into the old execution house. The willow on the left became famous as martyrs being lead to their death would often grip the tree and cry out in grievance that their land had not yet been freed. In 1992, a passageway was discovered behind the execution building. It had been used by the Japanese to secretly remove the bodies so as to conceal the amount of prisoners they were killing.

I feel that any historical site like this loses its atmosphere when you are competing for the space with a legion of screaming schoolkids who have been forced to tear themselves away from the xbox on a Saturday. It was nonetheless a beautiful Autumn day and the sun shone warmly on us. Looking at the trees and enjoying this more open and less hectic part of Seoul were the highlights for me. Also was spending time with Sarah, and then meeting up with Lianne and Joelle in Itaewon (the foreigners' punching quarter) for some Thai food later in the evening. Every now and then we relive our Thai holiday together.



The author bites down on the straw of his Long Island Iced Tea so as to distract himself from negative thoughts. On the left, all stylish with lovely new hairstyle - Joelle. On the right, my easygoing and lovable Canadian travel pal - Sarah.

Next weekend I go to Busan with Joelle which should be lovely!

Drugs

I forgot the stories I heard about the quantity of drugs Korean doctors prescribe for common things like colds and flus. This was the handful I received this afternoon (3 times daily, 3 days running) after complaining of a cough, chills and a headache.

Foolish

There hasn't yet been a moment on this trip when I've wanted to pack it in and come home immediately, but right now is about as close as I've come to that. There's nothing like common or garden flu like symptoms to tip one into homesickness. I spent the weekend surrounded by snotty tissues breathing the stale air of my flat wondering when I would next have to go to the Mini Stop downstairs for some more bottled water. On the upside I got to watch a few episodes of the classic BBC / David Attenborough series "Life On Earth," which is a decades-old televisual feast in the same vein as Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" and Jacob Bronowski's "The Ascent of Man" that, looking at today's offerings, makes me wonder where television went wrong after demonstrating such promise earlier on in the piece!

Anyway, I've finally given in and will see a doctor this arvo. My manager is coming with me. She has a son fighting with the American Army in Iraq. Apparently she and her husband think I look like him and have made that connection to go the extra mile to help me, ie, looking after me will help them to feel easier about their son fighting someone else's war in a middle eastern hell hole. I never use that sort of language around her of course. I've met the guy and he's, well, young and naive. And there's all this talk about him becoming a man in the army. And stuff.

There's nothing like teaching to drain you of whatever resources you started the day with. "Yes! I can get through the day" soon becomes "Shit! How many more to go?" in the break between first and second periods. I am officially sick and tired of Korean food and I wish I was sunbathing on Koh Samui or somewhere equally exotic right now. There was a night I bobbed effortlessly in the tropical ocean, I looked up at the stars and the lanterns floating over from BoPhut Beach, then back at the decorations on shore - twinkling lights wrapped around a half dozen palm trees - I think I've written about it earlier, and I thought "this is the image I will carry with me!"

Backpacking in China in Winter - a fool's desire?

Incheon Songdo Marathon

Half marathon: over.
Time: 1.55.00

Sessions and I went out to Incheon on Saturday arvo to get ourselves ready for the great race. We had been preparing for this since back in late June. I was looking forward to that finish line more than I'd realised. After all, who would give up a precious weekend to go and sweat it out with 10 000 other nutters on a Sunday morning? Even the churchgoing among us had a longer sleep in than Stephen and I! I have decided to spend the next few Thursday nights at Traveler's Bar & Bistro getting pissed and telling stories about how I used to be great at sport, which will lead to the more tall stories about how I used to be popular at school, and then onto more general shouted demands for the whole pub to STFU and listen to me sing Khe Sahn. And enjoy it.

We headed out on the bus and spent the afternoon wandering around Incheon's Chinatown and Jayu Park. There's a couple of notable monuments out there including the General MacArthur statue and the monument for the centenary of Korea-US relations. At around 4:30 we headed off for the love motel district (adjacent to the Incheon Songdo Business District) and started to look for somewhere to stay. Love motel or not, 35 000 KRW was a good price for this room. It came with a free condom which, although I appreciated the tired receptionist's gesture, didn't fit because it was designed for 4 Incheon. I'm not sure how many of you will get that but it's staying in for publication as I quite like it. Cheers.

Right then. After dinner I listened to the last of Iris Chang's The Rape of Nanking audiobook and then had trouble sleeping. It wasn't the mattress, or the arguments outside, or the budae jjigae I'd had for lunch. Have you heard of the Rape of Nanking? It was one of the most concentrated and abominable horror stories ever to emerge from the long and painful twentieth century. And as a student of history, I am qualified to say that there was a lot fucked up shit that went down in that century. I am spending a few days in Nanjing during my upcoming Chinese "sweet 'n' sour" tour of January '11 and am therefore keen to know a bit about what actually happened there in the winter of 1937-38. But not if it involves too many more stories of tortures, beheading, rape, genocide, and Japanese soldiers enjoying it.

Sunday morning was a simple dinner of gimbap, which I thought would be plain enough before the race. We hailed a taxi and had chosen one that didn't know where Central Park was which I thought was pretty poor form but found the race after he hailed another cabbie and got directions. How amusing for me to find that the start/finish line of the race was outside the hotel I'd been put up in 11 months earlier by Korean Air when I was flying to Europe. This small area of Korea sparks great memories and carries heavy emotions for me. Korea was the first foreign country I visited and so the morning before my flight I wandered around the park taking pictures of "Asian" things. Rocks and pavilions and towers and such.



This one, the old and the new, was taken on November 19, 2009. I had the sense that I would like to see more of Korea, but had no idea it would be as soon as...



...October 17, 2010, after the short journey to Europe, the incendiary relationship coming down and going up in flames, the long trip home, and the determination never to be fooled again. Oh, the humanity...



Shame about this pic as I'm doing that squinty thing again. That's Stephen next to me, an all round top bloke who did the marathon (42.195km) in 3.43.00



Some women go all Beatlemania when they spot a handsome white man. Other just hide behind their sleeves. Stephen, who took this picture, is very good-looking guy.

The race over, Stephen and I started to head back but were met by some of his mates who made the journey all the way to Incheon, only to miss the finish. We got back to Yatap, where they went to play football and drink and such and I went straight home for a nap. Actually the damage hasn't been bad at all; going down stairs was painful yesterday, but I would say that Stephen and I put in enough training, to cope with the race, when it came. And we did.

A Bit o' The Ol' Push 'n' Shove

My Chuseok holiday finished with me ambling around Bundang for a few lazy days in late September. There was a game of screen golf with Matt and his pal Will, both originally from the U.S. but teaching in Korea now for 1 and 3 years respectively. Will was quite the golfer, and at one point criticised Matt - who is always looking to improve his game - for his "Willy Loman-like stance." I asked what that meant and Will went into his "a man is not a piece of fruit" speech. Basically Will thought Matt looked a bit pathetic.

I enjoy the company of these two guys. Matt consistently displays the similar style of whimsical and irreverent Facebook status update that I favour, though (if possible), he does it better than me. Screen golf on the other hand is as boring as batshit. Yes it is amusing for the first half an hour to hit a ball against a screen then let the computer take over, but after that novelty wears away, all there is to do is drink. After an hour of that, the golf just becomes a nuisance. Some say that golf ruins a nice walk, but it ruins so much more than that, including the opportunity to have a good piss up with your new mates.

So we went to Traveler's "for 1" after the golf, and stayed for 5. There we managed to continue the afternoon of "sport" by playing fussball and darts. Each one of us emerged as the best at one of the sports, and I'm pleased to say that I became known as the one to beat at darts, which is of course the only real sport of the 3.
I called it quits early though as I drink so infrequently now that it knocks me for 6 whenever I do touch it. I also can't think of a better way I could have saved more money than in reducing my alcohol intake, other than to take up smoking and give it up in the same week.

Before you get the wrong idea please know that I went to Sarah Wilson's housewarming party 2 weeks ago and got completely soused. Okay, let's move on.

The marathon training is in full swing now as the big race is less than 2 weeks away. I will run my final long distance training session this Thursday, then do a couple of quiet ones in the week leading up to the race. On the big day I am praying for weather much like what we've been enjoying lately. My prediction came true that once the summer passed and the humidity dropped sharply I would cope with the distance running so much easier. I've even got half a mind to enter a full marathon in March, before it warms up too much.

But the major event on my horizon is my trip to China this January. Any day now I will receive my jolly old Lonely Planet China from Amazon, after which I can plan in detail my trek across the eastern and central parts of China. At the moment the idea is to take the ferry from Incheon to Qingdao, then use trains once I am on the Chinese mainland, working around to Xian and Beijing, before heading home (to Bundang - I think of it as my home I guess). In preparation for this I have been refreshing my Mandarin; it's remarkable how much stuck from all the way back in the year 2000. Immediately upon forming the first few words I fell for the sounds and the tones of the language again. After perusing the phrasebook for 25 minutes over a meal of deok mandu guk last night I found I had forgotten every word of Korean I knew, almost saying goodbye to the cook in the wrong language.

The Koreans are treating me well and I've gotten used to some of their behaviours, even if I can't always immediately accept that the "rudeness" isn't to be taken personally. I've never thought too much about the simple act of walking in a crowd, however within a few weeks of landing over here, I found I'd reflected upon it many times. There is a different flow of pedestrian traffic, one which I am used to now and so don't even notice that much, but I saw how the "after you" and "do you mind if I don't" gestures which I was brought up to believe in were less a kindness and more of a hindrance over here, where everyone already knows their place and so expects to either go first or wait for you. There are random acts of kindness of course, and in general the lack of aggression and the safety of Korean society are very attractive parts of the culture. But these "western hang-ups" of mine - of believing in personal space for instance - will just have to be suspended. It's not always that bad: Lucy brushes up so close to me during lesson planning that I have to remind myself that it doesn't mean anything. In truth, however, there have been fewer instances of that, and more of being forced up against a dribbly old man wearing a smashing US Navy cap on the subway, and not being able to move until we get back to Seolleung.

Should You Leave?

Today I went to my favourite cafe and I read this book, Should You Leave?. The question posed is examined in the context of relationships. Author Peter Kramer errs on the side of sticking it out and working, mostly. But I am considering the same question in another context, that of my decision to stay in Korea again next year or move on. Should You Leave?

I don't think I will. I think about it all the time though, before remembering that I've been down this path many times and always conclude that I don't have to decide for another few months yet.

We've just come back from Sokcho, Joelle and I. Each time I've been there I've had the urge to apply for work out there. The province it is in, Gangwon-do, is far nicer than where I currently am in Gyeonggi-do. The air is fresh and the people are friendly. It's much like my hometown of Mittagong NSW. Back in Bundang the people are shitty and not nice. And if they're nice, it's towards someone else.

Presently checking destinations for a sneaky getaway in Winter. Harbin, China? Qiqihar? Or Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia? Or the Radisson on the "tropical" island of Jeju, Korea? My desire? Go where there's no American college graduates shouting OHMYGARD and asking where the nearest party is. Like I'd know! And saying things about my mother, which is totally inappropriate mind you, given that she is a lovely lady and would probably make you tea and ask about your life if I you ever met her because she is kind and interested in you and in showing you genuine hospitality. You don't travel very well. You expect the world to be a lot like L.A. and seem genuinely confused when it's not.

Tomorrow: screen golf with Matt and Mitja.



Juhee wouldn't rest until she was allowed to take this picture of me in front of the just-docked Dong Chun ferry. This is the one that does the run up to Vladivostok in Russia, the one I've been talking about taking when my tour of duty in Korea finishes (if it ever does).

Mongolia 2011?

I'm still here. There's nothing worth writing about. There is, but I have no imagination. I have enough to imagine that they are all against me. My students sometimes tell me that this is true.

This weekend: a folk festival in Anseong? Or just stay in Yatap and get folked? Does it really matter? Will I ever be any closer to Audrey Tautou?

My debts are tumbling down. They pay us well here. Korea rates well above every other east Asian country with regards to how much one can save. Teachers must however resist the temptation to bugger off to other countries at every chance they get, however tempting it is. My latest fantasy is Mongolia for 2011 baby. Apart from the one I've been having about Seonah all day. She's chosen to wear a very foxy outfit today, totally unbecoming of the conservative, demure and shy Christian she says she is. Thank God I'm an atheist.

For Chuseok, a trip to the East Sea with Joelle. Remember Seoraksan? I'm going back.

Catchya later! Soon I hope. Korea's a lovely place to visit at this time of year and I have a very comfortable couch. 010-6871-3385!

Koh Samui Part 3

Much of the scenery around Ang Thong Marine Park looks like this: aqua waters, palm trees and white sands against a backdrop of steep rocky cliffs covered in dense foliage.


I remain unsure about what you're supposed to do with these, though I'm pretty sure that your six pack goes in the big blue esky. Cleaning is a nightmare, particularly after a lunch of Tom Yum Goong. Fortunately, the nearby ocean came to my rescue, though Ang Thong isn't quite as "pristine" as it was before this English teacher went on holiday.


Another typical Ang Thong scene. Later in the day we went in search of the setting of Alex Garland's novel (and subsequent film) "The Beach." The premise is that a community of young western backpackers renege their obligations toward their fellow man and seek out earth's last unspoilt location in order to fill it with their pollution, politics and whining to the soundtrack of utterly forgettable late 90s chill out music. The current location is full of tourists jostling for space on the beach, couples pretending to be in love, and French men shouting at their wives as the aforementioned wives laugh at their stupid frog-like faces.


West and I waited for a sad couple pretending to be in love behind us to move on to someone else's backdrop for a good 5 minutes before taking this photo. It is on the "Beach" beach. I wanted a backdrop unspoilt by lies and/or deceit but still cannot rid myself of the image of that poor besotted young man's face. As the camera clicked, I said "love you long time" which in Thailand means until the next morning. A short time, by contrast, is an altercation on the stairs costing 100 baht.


No words in this entry, just pictures of me! In this one I am sitting at the lookout over the Emerald Lake at Ang Thong. A veritable shitload of tourists visit this during good weather but our man on the ground, Dave, timed his run perfectly and we had it all to ourselves.


Colourful, innit? Koh Samui is dotted with all of these Buddhist shrines around the island. Drivers honk their horns on the way past and the people give gifts of incense, coconuts and Fanta.


The road home. Ciao Samui.

Koh Samui Part 2

I was fascinated by this bird which made sounds exactly like that of a human. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera handy on the beach later that day when a bona fide Hornbill sidled up next to me. Ooh it were lovely!


The author on a longboat on the journey from Tong Sala to Koh Phangan. The pilot of these ships (below) has to hug the coast so the rapidly changing weather doesn't catch him stranded at sea - and in considerable danger. When the captain picked us up from our secluded beach at 4 pm as requested, he offered to take us all the way back to Koh Samui - a good 15 km in open waters. I assumed he was joking due to the approaching storms, but Lianne assured me it has been done before: several years ago one of her drunk friends decided to make the Phangan-Samui trip in a longboat and made it, though they don't speak anymore.


Our pilot steers our trusty bucket o' rust - "The Thai Princess" - in for shore after a good few months at sea. I really get into it whenever I'm on a boat. I'm usually leading the crew in bellowing out a few favourite sea shanties, teaching landlubbers the lingo of the waves, and drinking rum until ye puke.


What's Thai for "hard a starboard?" The captain sits up front and gives directions, and otherwise helps the pilot negotiate tight spots in the harbour by using a barge pole to push on the dock and the sea floor.

On the Tuesday we caught a fast ferry from Samui called the SeaTran. It plows its way up and down the Gulf of Thailand, finishing its run up at Bangkok after having ducked in at a few places on the way. We bought a ticket for Koh Phangan, an island more northerly and slightly smaller than Samui, famous for hosting its monthly Full Moon Parties on Haadrin Beach. At a recent fixture, Haadrin was host to 30 000 patrons who had come to party it up on its tiny beach. Cruising past in our longboat, I kept glancing around in disbelief that this was actually the beach and felt sure there was a larger one just around the headland. But the one I was looking at was indeed the famous Full Moon Beach.

Tourism is a double edged sword. Every jet that zoomed in over my head as I swam the waters at Big Buddha Beach represented thousands upon thousands of dollars for those working in the hospitality industry on Samui. True, people derive wages and feed their families from this. But the tourists bring their arrogance and their waste also. At high tide every day, all kinds of shit washes up on the shore: fuel cans from boats, beer bottles and potato chip wrappers. We cannot leave paradise alone.I watch in disbelief as a French backpacker throws her cigarette on the ground at Namuang waterfall and smothers it into the earth. Why do you come?

I think this awareness was behind West's request of "if we spend just one day on a secluded beach with no other tourists around I will be happy." So we set out for Tong Sala on Koh Phangan and connected with a taxi bus across to Haadrin. There are no roads on the east coast of Phangan so connections are made by these longboats, and after looking at a map we chose a beach called Wae Nam. The sand was coarse, and so hot that the only sunbathers ran for the limited shade on offer. We swam and lay around and read and it was idyllic. At one point 5 workmen came over and cut some bamboo for a bungalow they were making. I wondered what Stephen Bryant of Montage Interiors would say about two guys working and three supervising. Briefly. Late in the day a hornbill swept over the beach and landed on a branch right next to the cafe I was sitting in. Funny that I happened to be reading a book on the birds of Thailand at the time, my interest having been piqued by that cheeky talking bird at the cafe we had breakfast in earlier (which turned out to be a mynah). So rather than running for my camera I was leafing through my book in an attempt to identify the bird of paradise in front of me. In a future age, it is my hope that I will just enjoy looking at the bird.


On the way into Wae Nam Beach. It had a cafe and some bungalows, but no one was making noise or asking anxious questions about getting the best deal or otherwise talking about themselves.


Having made it back to Haadrin, the heavens opened. Within 3 minutes the roads became rivers, but it all subsided just as quickly.

On the night before her departure for Bangkok and Incheon, West and I drank wine on the beach and compiled a Top 5 of the best things we did in the last week. In my list, there was a mix of the random and the organised. This adventure to Koh Phangan was partly organised and partly making it up on the spot and it made the Top 5. In fact in the near future when I am faced with 35 screaming Koreans every 40 minutes I will look back on this day and remember the peace and adventure of when we hired a longboat to explore a tropical island. But perhaps the most impressive thing of the entire week was the most expensive and most structured activity we took. On the Thursday we joined a diving crew and journeyed to Ang Thong Marine Park for the day. The next entry will be about snorkelling in paradise.

Koh Samui Part 1

On the morning of Saturday, July 31 I took my things and rested on this beach for a few moments. The reception for the bungalow I was to be staying in was not yet open so I sat down in what was to be my backyard for the next week. The previous evening I had taken off from Incheon, Korea, on a Jeju Air flight bound for Bangkok, and wandered the airport through the night in search of a comfortable bench to fall asleep on. Here, Suvarnabhumi Airport could learn from the Koreans at Incheon and provide lounge seats for those facing an extended layover. But these things cost money I suppose, and I relish every opportunity I get for travel now so I wasn't complaining much.

The flight was one of the better ones I've had. (Here I am comparing flights, only 2 years after thankfully losing my embarrassing status as an flight-virgin). I was able to look out my west-facing window on the lights of eastern China and imagine a time in the near future when I too will stand on the soil of that country. At present, Shanghai holds a great deal of allure for me, but more about that later.

What troubled me (though I'm not sure how to articulate why) was that the Korean fascination for Koi-Boi-Bo, or Paper-Scissors-Rock, wormed its way into our cabin part way through the flight. This wasn't the kids behind me settling the who-gets-the-last-piece-of-kimchi score, but the entire cabin participating in an attempt to win one of four Jeju Air diaries courtesy of the airline. Everyone was welcomed aboard, the cabin crew give each other their shit-we-have-a-foreigner-on-board look, I wink my correction at them: you've-got-a-good-looking-foreigner-and-appearance-is-all-that-counts-while-we're-still-on-the-ground-in-fucking-Korea, we take off, the cabin crew disappear for a few moments...then reappear in Hawaiian shirts and sombreros for games. The Koreans are on holiday.

Perhaps I was worried about them losing face if the plane were to nose dive into the China Sea?

How do you know you are in another country? Is it in the behaviour of people? Within half an hour of landing in Bangkok 3 women had flirted with me. In 4 months in Korea my contact with the opposite sex has been restricted to those occasional moments on the subway when an influx of passengers at Moran pushes commuters together momentarily. It took a day or two to relax into this south east Asian set up where women are just as likely to initiate contact as are the men. Early on in the trip I remember having the strong feeling that Thailand reminded me of Australia. On reflection, I think this indicates the state of mind of someone still getting used to living abroad. Or perhaps that anything after Korea would seem like home! I think the exact sentiment was "Thailand seems more like Australia than it does Korea."


Transiting passengers "bench down" for the night around 3 in the morning at Bangkok Airport (Suvarnabhumi), their resistance to sleep finally overcome.

We set out from Bangers at 6 in the morning, the powerful jets of our 737 reducing Bangkok to Samui to a 45 minute puddle jump. I have spent longer than that on a train between Macarthur and Tahmoor, praying that Brendan Gomola doesn't notice me underneath my hat and dark glasses. Bangkok is a city of 10 million people and a haven for TEFL teachers, though the wages on offer are weak and only ever allow teachers to tread water. Unfortunately, I am saving money and am able to travel with my current job here in Korea...


A wingshot over Bangkok, 6am Saturday 31 July.

Which made the first night in Koh Samui the perfect opportunity to blow off 4 months of steam. And I dutifully pulled an all-nighter, making friends with the locals after West had decided to pack it in for the night. Though probably the most depressing moment of the holiday was in going to the girly bar across the road and in having the working girls overlook me in favour of my exotic-lesbian-friend West. And it was her name they continued to call after that first night. Stumbling back to the beach at 6:30 the next morning, the rising sun caught my glasses sitting there in the middle of the beach. They probably shouldn't have been there. They should have been on my head. I hope whoever took them from me and put them there gets his comeuppance.

One of the things I love about being overseas is to experience a new place on foot. Trains and buses mean that the scenery zips by, and this can be just what you need if you're pressed for time. But using your feet means that native life unfolds at a walking pace. I never would have been able to buy things, feel the warmth of Samui or even smell the air if I'd been sitting in a bus. And sometimes it enables you to capture the pictures you've been hoping for:


Fishing boats at low-tide


A bunch of the local fruit, Rambutan. If you peel it with your nail it will go black, but if you twist the skin in two roughly equal hemispheres, the skin slips right off. Local knowledge.


A crab


The author chills with Big Buddha. (That's just his DJ name by the way - his real name is Norman).

Journeys in Jeollabuk-Do

I went along with the teachers at my school on an excursion last Friday to celebrate the start of the Summer vacation. We boarded the Everland bus and zipped down to the other end of the country for the day (it took 3 hours to get there). Clever clogs here forgot to take his camera so this blog will be unillustrated. Originally I thought this was fine because I had so much to say about what I observed, but the passing of only 48 hours since Friday afternoon has caused me to forget the details.

As a result this entry will be both unillustrated and sparse on detail.

It was nice to see some of my best students before I left. If you stick to the formula and use the phrases that were in the text then you can have a short conversation with some of them. It's good to see how some of them have the confidence to approach foreigners. Admittedly the standards are different in this area of Korea because many students attend private academies which employ people from all over the USA. And the orthodoxy, I think, is that making errors in front of strangers is still very embarrassing. This is really frustrating for me because it can still be difficult to elicit responses even in the classes of higher ability. I often say to them "I know you can do this" but it's not nearly as effective as candy or at least points for their team.

I remember the last day of school as a student: your teacher didn't seem so bad on that day. Most of them won't see me for 5 weeks (which could partially explain their happiness) but I still have a further 2 weeks to work with the low ability students during Summer Camp. I've just looked over the material and fear it will go clean over their heads, but if that's the case then I have 2 weeks to dumb it down. On the last day we make chocolate sodas together then I fly to Thailand without them. So I don't care.

Now, Friday turned out to be a good day overall, though it took a while to break the ice with some of the teachers. We travelled to North Jeolla Province, to the towns of Buan and to Byeonsanbando National Park in particular. The attractions were, in this order, lunch, a walk to some famous rocks, a temple, another temple, dinner. For lunch I ate raw fermented crab, not something I would ever order myself, but it wasn't going to eat itself. During the walk over rocks the principal, vice principal and grandpa teacher argued all the way about something or other. Nobody had told me we would be walking after lunch so I left my umbrella in the bus. Seongsuk shared her brolly with me and we tried to be positive and joke about stuff as it continue to rain and were obliged to follow the old men further and further from where the bus was parked, and my umbrella.

Temples in Korea all look similar and I won't be hurrying to see anymore. The one on the east coast, Naksansa, was unique and very beautiful because of its location. Otherwise, I don't find them terribly exciting. So when I heard we were visiting two before eating I felt a mild case of panic. The settings of each of these temples was beautiful however. The first one had a dramatic mountain backdrop. At the second, we walked beside a river and some very tranquil "bushland" for roughly 500 metres before entering the temple. Pansu bought me a cup of fresh blackberry juice as we walked. Seongsuk and Pansu, who are usually in my staffroom, have been the two most important figures responsible for my ease of transition into Korea. Pansu also did me the kindness of pointing out that I was gaining weight too fast and that I don't exercise enough, bless him. As if I hadn't already noticed it.

At dinner we got stuck into the soju and blackberry wine and I finally got talking to some of the other staff members. I felt as if we were only just getting settled at the tables before the order was given to move on once again. I would much prefer to do a few things and take my time rather than quickly and superficially do a lot of things. And when it comes to eating and drinking I hate being made to rush. No one can superficially appreciate drunkenness anyway. Fortunately we were permitted enough time for the sexy 5-2 homeroom teacher to stumble over and ask me a few questions (after she spent the first 5 minutes giggling behind her hand). Good on her for her efforts though.

This week I begin Summer School and a weight loss program. Then I go on holidays. Perhaps I should put it off for when I return. Ok, I will.

Cheerio!

Purple Sneakers

I'm sure Tim Rogers sings about the walk to school on 1995's Hi Fi Way. It was 15 years ago when I first listened to that. I'd just gotten into coffee, I had a most unsuitable girlfriend who found me far too polite, and I walked to school as a student. Now, in 2010, I'm in Korea, walking to school again - this time as the native English teacher. I can't find a decent coffee anywhere, and the women find my non-Confucian behaviour uncouth and irrational. There's a certain sense in this: in Korea, if you allow a stranger to move on ahead of you, you will find yourself waiting all day. I am learning to push and shove. Either this means I am assimilating or I am simply being recast as a rude foreigner instead of an insignificant one. I clearly have no desire to become Korean or even to work for a conglomerate, meaning that I would make for a poor husband to the status-conscious, surgically-enhanced women of Bundang. But I am singing as I write these words - do you need somebody to feel somebody?


Right, all in readiness then. Undersized Korean shirt: check; bachelor-bright gleam in my eyes: check; Australian sense of humour: long may it live.


The first step is to make it to the end of the lengthy and rather grim corridor waiting just outside of my door. If I make a left it will take me to HomePlus, the subway, and the bright lights of Yatap. A right-hand turn (pictured here) takes me down to the river (Springsteen-style) for exercise or the walk to school. School is 3.3 km south from my apartment and I walk beside the river all of the way.


Does it get any zanier than this? A self-portrait in an elevator, with the reflection in the background? Maybe if I'd had a spinning bowtie...


It just so happened that the day I'd designated as picture taking day was also clear and sunny - only the fourth time this has happened since my arrival. In the left of the picture you will see a zebra crossing. I am yet to figure out why Korean councils bother painting these stripes on the road as the cars have right of way in the case of pedestrians using it. Pedestrians stop cars by walking into the traffic and holding a palm towards the windshield of the oncoming vehicle. I assume this is where the oriental belief in chi comes from - "it is invisible energy originating from combination of old woman's palm and giant hat causing driver to brake so as not to interrupt flow of noble Korean life." Personally I am a rationalist who wants to get to work on time and so waits to cross with noble Korean. But in many ways I feel as if being a pedestrian here consititutes an extreme sport.


That's the outside of my building, this shot having been taken after I had made it across the road. As you can see, there are retailers on the first and second floors including a pool hall. In fact the entire first floor is made up of restaurants. I have made pals with the gimbap people just down from here. Maybe twice a week I eat at their fine establishment for a $3 dinner. Not bad eh?


Now, this is just before I walk down the stairs to the Tancheon. "Cheon" means stream, so technically it is the "Tan Stream." But coming from Australia, where we actually have water police due to water's scarcity, this looks very much like a river to me. Tancheon empties into "Hangang" in Seoul. Now "gang" means river, so technically it is the Han River. But to me, of course, it is an ocean.


The sign says "Bundang Cha Byeongwon." Byeongwon means hospital. This is where I get a mad deal on brand name medications - if I would only be so patient as to wait for all of the locals to be served before me.


If you look to the left you will see the Yatap stream. This originates in the hills beyond Bundang. I often walk past this point just as my good friend Stephen rounds the corner on his bike. He works at the next school down the line. It takes only 20 seconds to reach by car from mine and also has over 800 students, giving you an indication of the population density of this area.


This bridge over Tancheon dates back to the Lee Myung Bak era...


The apartment buildings are often named after the conglomerates. That one on the left is Chinese. Regardless, they all look pretty Soviet-like to me. Sometimes, at work, when no one else is in the staffroom, I look at illicit pictures of European, American and Australian buildings on my computer. Phwoar look at those curves! What a beauty! etc etc


The buildings in the distance are of Seohyun, which has a reasonable foreigners' scene, and a Korean busker with a pretty bloody good voice who loves his Britpop: "half a world away..."


Bundang is surrounded by low hills. Excellent for hiking. Most of Korea is hilly and they have only really developed the places of low altitude. But because they seem to love living close together, man have they developed it!



And then I duck into this subway 25 minutes after leaving home and become...


...Noble Teacher Slippers-Don't-Fit!