Community and Friendship

I caught the tail end of 20/20 on TV last week. They were discussing a book called "The Geography of Bliss." The author had gone around the world to find out where the happiest people lived. He discovered that the happiest people in the world are not the ones with the most money, most comfortable living conditions, or even the most freedom. The happiest people in the world were the ones with the strongest sense of community. Communities of homeless people on the streets of Calcutta were happier people than those in wealthy countries where the focus is generally more on personal achievement.

It was interesting timing for me to catch this program because not a month ago, I watched the movie "Sicko" which is about the disheartening state of the health care "industry" in the United States. When I was watching this film it was very clear that Americans have a very weak sense of community. Citizens of the US are taught very early in life that it is good to be an individual. As a result, I believe the overriding mentality of people is that as long as they aren't personally being effected by something, there is no need to make much of a effort for change. Even an overwhelming majority of people who would like to make a difference in the community, don't make the effort, because they think that it won't make a difference. It makes me sad and oftentimes incredibly frustrated to see the direction my country is headed.

But, it's also given me the chance to reflect on myself and how I play a role in my current community in South Korea. My fellow wayguks and I -by choice or necessity- have a developed a strong sense of community. When there are new people in Ansan for the first time, they are embraced into the community. They are shown around the city, given maps and directions and told where to go to get the things that they need. They are taken out and educated on local customs and culture. People did it for me when I fist got here and now I have the chance to return the favor for the newly arrived bunch! Of course, it's not just foreigners showing around foreigners, or else what would be the point of visiting another country. Korean people are amazingly warm and generous and best of all- they love Korea and love teaching us all about it.

There are so many little things- the book exchange at the Hangout Bar; the free Korean classes Stefan generously gives; the way that people will call in to check up on you and see if you need anything when you are sick- and countless other things that really give one a sense of belonging.

Now, community doesn't necessarily imply friendship, though they tend to be related. Coman and I had an interesting conversation yesterday about the friendships that get formed in Korea and what value they hold given that most people will be gone in a year. To that I offer my personal perspective: I've moved to six different towns in the past six or seven years. Some places I've made amazing friends, other places I've wanted to crawl into a hole and get away from everyone I knew. Some people I thought were best friends wouldn't give me the time of day once I moved away. And sometimes people who were only casual acquaintances became better friends after I moved. Granted, there are a small handful of people who will always be my best friends in the world- they will be there through thick and thin, support me no matter how near or far I am- and friendship like that does take years to develop. But, not every friend you make has to be a best friend for life. If you know that you have a limited amount of time to spend with a person, does that not make the time together all the more valuable? From that perspective, I can say that the friendships I've formed since I've been here have been surprisingly meaningful. I don't know how many people I'll stay in touch with after I leave- hopefully most of them- but what good does it do to worry about that anyway? I can honestly say that I have a very strong feeling of love for all of my friends here, and for me, it doesn't need to be quantified.

North Korea

Last Friday night, just before midnight, my friends Natalie, Jemma, Coman and I boarded the Adventure Korea bus for an overnight trip to North Korea. Whether it was excitement about our upcoming adventure, our normal nocturnal patterns or Coman and Natalie's incessant chatter, none of us had slept for more than a few minutes on and off when we arrived at the border around 6:00 A.M. After a brief rest stop, we drove into the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone) between North and South Korea. I'd been on a tour of the DMZ a few months prior and had had an interesting, though not overly exciting experience. This was entirely different. The sun was just coming up and we were on the east coast, with a lovely view of the Sea of Japan (or East Sea to Koreans). You couldn't have asked for a more beautiful view, with the exception of the double row of barbed-wire fences on either side of us and Korean soldiers every half mile or so!

I had read about the DMZ in one of my guide books and learned that the four mile stretch between the divided country, is the world's largest protected temperate zone. There is hope among environmentalists that if the countries ever reunited, this land would remain protected as a national park. No doubt, that's an attractive dream, but for now, it remains one of the world's most protected borders.

A brief list of things you are not allowed to bring to North Korea:

• Cell phones, cell phone batteries, cell phone chargers and any other communication devices.
• Cameras with telephoto lenses or binoculars with more than 10x power.
• PDA's, laptop computers, calculators (?) - though MP3 players were OK.
• Newspapers and magazines from South Korea, and any other questionable reading material (I left behind "I am America and So Can You," by Stephen Colbert)
• Alcohol

Other regulations:

• You must ALWAYS wear your ID badge around your neck- if you don't you will be shot- KIDDING, but you will be fined- more on that later.
• You must carry your passport with you at all times.
• You must not take any pictures from a vehicle.
• You must not take any pictures of North Korean people.
• You must not wash your hands or feet in public streams.
• You must not take any natural items - such as rocks or sea shells.
• There are lots of rock carvings with propaganda messages from the government, you may photograph them, but you may not touch them.
• You may not speak the name of Kim Jung Il. This is a highly disrespectful insult, he should rather be referred to as "the Fearless Leader," "the Great Master," or some other fitting title. My friends and I had fun with this refering to him as Big K, He Whose Name Should Not Be Spoken, etc.

We were warned that the North Korean government will try to impose a fine for just about anything, so don't mess around. Needless to say, going through immigration was a bit intimidating. We had to line up in some preset order with all of our documents and our cameras ready to be inspected. Some people were questioned by the North Korean guards, but we all made it through safely. As far as I know, no one from our tour had anything confiscated. We had our ID badges (but not our passports) stamped. Then it was back on the tour bus and onto the hotel.

The views from the bus were more of the same: the sea on the right, striking mountains on the left, though instead of barbed-wire fences, it was a single green metal fence, and instead of South Korean soldiers, there were North Korean soldiers- infinitely more intimidating looking! However, the biggest difference was that rather than pristine wilderness, there was continuous farmland dotted with simple houses. Occasionally you could see a man working in the field, a family walking along a dirt path, or someone on a bicycle, crossing the fields. In addition, aside from N. Korean guards, there was also a lot of military equipment to be seen- one area appeared to have some sort of sheds or garages built into the mountains with tanks inside. I heard the two guys behind me on the bus saying something about a rocket launcher. I didn't see what they were referring to, and might not have know what it was even if I had seen it. But the point is, there was no mistaking that this was a military state we were in. Of course, no pictures were allowed.

About 30 minutes after entering North Korea, we arrived at the special tourist area . It was safely out of view from the North Korean people and guarded by military at every exit. There were a few hotels, restaurants, a convenience shop, a souvenir shop and a duty-free shop. We quickly stocked up on snacks for our hike and piled back into the bus for our hike into the mountains.

There was snow and ice on the ground and we had to rent spikes for our shoes, but the weather was actually very nice. It was sunny and about 45 or 50 degrees Fahrenheit. It was about a 4 or 5 hour hike though the valley of the Geumgang Mountains. We followed the course of the river most of the way. It should go without saying that the views were amazing, but if there is any doubt, check my pictures!

It was a fun hike. Coman threw snowballs at all of us at every chance he got. All of us talked and joked and took in the scenery. We hiked over suspension bridges, saw frozen waterfalls and Coman drank from the stream of youth-said to take 10 years off your age! You'd hardly guess we were in North Korea with a few exceptions: first, there were specially trained tour guides, all with orange jackets, every few minutes along the path, making sure that we followed the rules and didn't stray from the path. Coman walked down a little too close to the water at one point and was reprimanded for it. Secondly, the government rock carvings were everywhere. Our tour guide told us "the leader says it and they write it." Lastly, we crossed paths with a few North Koreans along the way. How did we know they were from North Korea and not South? They are required to wear red pins with Kim Jung Il on them any time they go out in public. A member of the Adventure Korea group asked one of them if he could take a picture, just of the pin, but he was declined.

After the hike there was time for an hour nap and a quick shower before we were off to the acrobat show. I had been told that it was supposed to be world class, but when the announcer informed us that we were about to see the "world's best acrobatic show, which can only be seen at the North Korean Cultural Center," I had to wonder. How do they know that they are really the best if they don't go out and compete against other countries?

Some of the acts were indeed world class! There were gymnasts, jugglers, trapeze artists- all incredible. But as I enjoyed the show, I couldn't stop my mind from wondering about what the lives of these performers were like. A top performer in other countries would certainly have a fairly comfortable, if not altogether lavish, lifestyle. They would enjoy some praise and some fame and the opportunity to travel and compete. I had to wonder if the North Korean performers enjoyed any benefits as a result of their amazing talents.

Not every act was amazing. There was a clown team that I found altogether annoying. I don't know if it was because of the language barrier, a different sense of humor, or because they just weren't that good. There were also a few acts that were good, though mistakes were made. Of particular note was a man on the trapeze who did an astounding quadruple flip thingy -an official term- only to not be caught by his partner. I was impressed enough by the flip that I wasn't all too worried that he had fallen (safely into the net), but he got back up and tried it again. And he fell again. The third time was the charm, though I wondered how many times he would have gotten back up there if it hadn't been. I also wondered what went on behind the scenes in a situation like that. Would the guy be punished for it some how? My mind wondered to all sorts of different scenarios. Would he be beaten, forced to work 20 hours a day, would food be withheld? It's possible that the punishment, if any, would be far less severe, but an outsider like myself could never know what would happened to the poor guy. You just can't help but wonder.

We had a low-key evening- as everyone was exhausted. There was a buffet dinner, followed by a few drinks in the hotel lounge. When we entered, we were the only guests, and there was a three person singing group performing on a small stage. They did a number of English songs for us and we were sure to give them a nice tip. Then it was back to the room for a game of spoons! Natalie lost the first round and suddenly became very tired. I'm not trying to imply that she's a sore loser or anything, just that she didn't try at all after that and was off to bed a few minutes later. Coman attempted to teach us a card game called 25 which we were starting to understand in our half drunken, half sleep deprived states of mind, but after just a round or two, we all agreed it was bed time. It couldn't have been past 10:30.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a migraine. If you've never had a migraine- just imagine what it might feel like if someone suddenly jabbed a sharp knife into your brain from your temple. Then imagine that they keep jabbing in and out. Everything makes it worse. Heat, noise, light, when you stand up, you feel dizzy, sometimes nauseous, there can be problems with your vision- black spots or everything goes white except for what you are focused on. I get these headaches somewhat often, and sometimes I can't even get out of bed to get myself some aspirin. This one wasn't the worst I've had, but it was pretty bad. I wondered if I'd be able to go hiking the next day. I took a bunch of Tylenol, drank some water and put a damp towel around my neck. The headache was still there in the morning. This brings me to the miracle of caffeine. I don't know why, but sometimes (not always) a little caffeine is enough to make all the pain go away. I had a Starbucks Double Shot drink in my bag and Natalie was kind enough to buy me a cup of coffee downstairs in the hotel. Within an hour, the beast of a migraine had subsided enough for me to choose the more difficult hike up to the top of the mountain.

The ride up to Manmul-San ("san" means mountain) was a half hour of steep climbing and lots of switchbacks. We (Coman and I- Jemma and Natalie took the easier trail to the lake) arrived at the trail head at the same time as a few thousand (this might be a slight, but not overly elaborate exaggeration) other tourists! A ll the buses leave from the hotel area at the same time and there is nothing else to do but to go hiking- so there we all were. Between the migraine and the pushy Koreans, the first hour or so of the hike was not the most fun I've ever had. But after a while people spread out, the headache all but disappeared, and the hike became wonderfully enjoyable. It was steep and there was a lot of ice and snow, but the views were out of this world! At times I had to stop and rest, but I didn't mind sitting for a few minutes to take it all in. Though I had motivation to keep going because I was starting to get dehydrated and Coman had agreed to carry my backpack in exchange for me letting him keep his water in it. But he had trudged on ahead of me early on and was no where in sight. Whenever the going started to get rough, I just kept on telling myself there was water at the top.

There was more than water at the top. When I finally reached it, the first view of the other side of the mountain was of the East Sea. Even on an overcast day, with the fog and haze, it was a sight to see! If there is anything I love more than hiking in the mountains, it's sitting by the sea and here you could do both. At one point, it started to snow a little. It was exhilarating!

Coman was at the top waiting and we sat for a moment before he was rushing back off with my pack again. I lingered longer, not wanting to forget the moment. Then I took my time as I shuffled back down. Going down is always harder for me because of my bad knee, and the ice didn't make it any easier. There were 70 year old ladies pushing past me, but I was in no hurry. I didn't have to be anywhere and I was enjoying being outside.

When I finally got back down, Coman was no where to be found. I assumed he took an earlier bus back to the tourist area and I got on the next one leaving, but I couldn't find him there either. Again, I needed my bag, this time because I had no money on me. I looked around for Jemma and Natalie, but I couldn't find them either. I finally convinced the host of the buffet restaurant to let me in to look for my friends. There were Jemma and Natalie, but still no Coman. Where did he go? Jemma bought me lunch and half way through, Coman came in looking for us! We must have passed each other on the mountain. He was able to get the guide to let him take a different path down. So, I had though he was way ahead of me, but I had actually gotten down first.

We had a few hours to kill before the bus was leaving to head back home. There were some hot springs we could go soak in, which sounded to me like a great idea after a difficult hike, but though I'd bonded with the girls over the weekend, neither of them wanted to get naked with me. Rather, we decided to take a walk down to the giant picture of Kim Jung Il and Kim Il Sung. This meant that we had to walk down the road outside of the tourist zone. No pictures were allowed and we were not even allowed to snap our own shots of the monument to the "Great Ruler," but had to ask the bellhop at a nearby hotel to do it for us. I wondered what he thought. He was a fairly friendly guy and he didn't seem troubled to be taking multiple pictures for all the Westerners who were there. But, I couldn't help but wonder if he assumed that we were supporting his government. If he was proud. I felt strange about having my picture taken in front of this massive tribute to one of the world's worst (if not the worst) dictators. It just seemed like a strange thing to do, and yet, it also seemed like the kind of thing I might as well do since I was there.

As we walked back, we had to cross over a path that connect two of the North Korean villages. There were three North Koreans coming from the opposite direction. Natalie stopped to tie her shoe so that we might be able to cross paths with them. The guards we not fooled! Whistles started blaring and red flags went up. We were signaled to continue moving and the North Korean people had to stop until we were safely out of sight. I had to wonder why it was that some North Koreans are allowed to go hiking up in the mountains and talk to us if they wish and why others couldn't even cross paths with us. Were the people we'd been seeing on the mountain, all employees at the resorts? What kind of special training did they need to be allowed to interact with foreigners?

When we were safely on the other side, back into the tourist zone, it was time for Coman to get an action photo of us. He'd been trying to get a good one all weekend without any luck. He'd declined the idea that I take a picture of him jumping off the top of the mountain. So, we found a bench to jump from instead. He seemed to think that we could get a good shot using the timer on his camera, but that didn't work. So, we tried to explain our mission to a Korean man who was sitting at a nearby table. Three, four, five jumps later we still couldn't get the shot . By this time, we were gaining an audience. I can hear their thoughts What are the crazy foreigners doing now? We recruited a Western girl to take the photo, but she couldn't capture it either. Finally, a Korean man stepped in and volunteered to take it. "You have to jump on two," he told us. And it worked. We jumped on 2 he snapped the shot on 3, it was perfect! The best part was that after we got our shot, some of the Korean men who'd been watching up wanted to get their own action shot. Coman got it on the first try, using the Jump on 2 method! A good time was had by all!

We still had an hour or so to kill before leaving, so it was on to the duty free shop to find something that said "Made in the DPR Korea." (Ironically, North Korea is officially called The Democratic People's Republic of Korea.) A bottle of liquor seemed to have the added bonus of having liquor in it, so I took a look at some of the selections. There were some nice ones- blueberry wine, honey liquor, fur seal penis liquor- for stamina, of course! I ended up buying a snake liquor. When purchased for consumption in North Korea, it actually has a baby snake in it (!) but you can't take that one out of the country, so mine just has a picture of a snake on it. A set of hand carved wooden shot glasses completed my souvenir shopping. After a quick cup of coffee, we were back on the bus to return to Seoul.

Just before we were about to cross through the border, one of the guys on our bus informed the guide that he had accidentally brought his cell phone into North Korea and now he was scared about going back through the border. He had turned in his Korean cell phone, but had forgotten that he had his phone from his home country with him. He was pretty luck that he didn't get caught coming into the country, but what to do with the phone now? The tour guide frantically looked for a place to hide the phone on the bus- which is also inspected as it crosses the border. She ended up putting it inside a role of TP (which is used for TP, tissue and napkins and always available on the bus) and put it high up on the luggage rack.

Luckily, we crossed through and the phone was not found. However, two guys from our bus were stopped for questioning because one of them had a water spot on his ID card and the other's ID card had a small scratch on it. No one could tell us how long it would take or what the consequences would be. It took about 30 minutes or so, and the big conversation on the bus was whether or not the rubber gloves would be taken out during the interrogation. Luckily the guys were both allowed through, without so much as a fine and we were on our way again. Our guides encouraged us to wave to the North Korean guards along the road as we left. Most were stiff faces, but one actually raise up a hand. Our guide told us it was the first time she'd seen one of them wave back! Encouraged, we continued waving to every guard we saw, but there was nothing more from the North Koreans . However, as soon as we entered the South Korean part of the DMZ, the South Korean soldiers were more than enthusiastic about waving to us! It was a nice greeting and it felt good to be back.

Overall, I really enjoyed this weekend. I got to go hiking on two of the most beautiful trails I've ever been on, see an amazing acrobatic show, and bond really closely with some already good friends. However, it never once left my mind where I was. There must have been thousands of toursist in North Korea for the weekend, and it was still winter. I wondered how much money was being pumped into the communist government every week from tourism. Though I am glad to have had the experience, given the chance I wouldn't come back simply for that one reason alone.

I might feel differently if I had the feeling that I'd really gotten to see North Korea, but the entire set up was clearly designed to give a good impression of the place. There was no cultural exchange in any way that might encourage breaking down the barriers between north and south. I would say that rather than feeling like I know a little more about North Korea now, that I actually have a lot more questions: The North Koreans we were allowed to talk to all seemed content, if not happy- is it all a show or is that the way they really feel? What do they have to go through to be allowed to interact with foreigners on a regular basis? How are their lives different from the farmers in the village? What do both of these groups of people think about foreign visitors? Are their feelings different about South Korean toursists than about Western tourists? And if so, in what ways? Natalie saw a sign that said something to the effect of "America is the Enemy," do they think that I am their enemy? How much do they really know about the outside world? There must still be a generation alive which remembers Korea before the war? What do they think? What have they told their families? Do they really love and respect Kim Jung Il, or are they afraid to imply otherwise? People, especially people who live near this tourist area, must wonder what life is like beyond North Korea. I want to know so many things about these people, but there is no way for me to ask them.

While I can't say that I got to know much about the people of North Korea, I can say that I have a better visual understanding of their political climate. It's one thing to hear or read about a situation in the news, it's quite another thing to whitness it first hand. I had this same sort of feeling the first time I saw millions of people living in shanty towns in Mexico City. It's the sort of thing that once you've seen, you will never forget. I'm certain to pay greater attention when I hear North Korea mentioned in the future and do my part to raise awareness about this divided country.

Sick in South Korea

I’d caught a bad cold about 3 weeks ago, if anyone recalls, from sharing a shot glass with Coman, who was sick at the time. That cold came on out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass for a week or so. I’d been feeling mostly better when I had my fiesta last Sunday, just some minor sniffles, which is why it came as a bit of a shock when I passed out on my desk at work last Thursday! I was taken to the “hospital” (Koreans refuse to say “doctor’s office”, and say “hospital” instead) in the same building of my school. My diagnosis was that “Korean viruses are very strong” and that I had fainted because I was dehydrated. I was given an IV to get my fluids up and was able to lie down for a few hours to sleep. I think this is the first time I’d had an IV and though I knew there was nothing to really worry about, the whole situation was a little bit scary to me- especially being in a foreign country.

The IV actually helped a lot. It brought my fever down and took away the spinning sensation in my head. It didn’t, however, give me enough strength to teach my night classes, which my school expected me to do. I convinced my director to change my classes to the following night, all the while thinking that were I at home, I’d never be expected to come in the next day. But, in the next day I went, and it was not bad at first, but by the end of the day, my chest felt like a knife was being dug into it every time I coughed. That night, I had a terrible fever, a rarity for me, and couldn’t sleep through the night. I had the chills so bad I was literally shivering and too cold to get out from under my blankets to get warmer clothes.

Fortunately, the next day was Saturday, so no work (!) and I had a follow-up doctor’s appointment. Doctors in Korea don’t quite give you the same personal attention as doctors back home. For one, you don’t go into an examining room, you go into the doctor’s office. They don’t check physically for all your symptoms, but rather ask how you are feeling and type it into the computer. He looked down my throat, but that was about all. I told him my symptoms had gotten worse, and he prescribed me 3 more days of the same medicine I was already on. And an injection – of who knows what? Seems an injection is the norm with any doctor’s visit here.

It was a long weekend of sitting in bed watching TV and being bored out of my mind. The highlight was when Coman graciously came to bring me an inhaler and some ice pops- or ice lolies as he so charmingly referred to them. Sunday morning I was so sick and still not feeling any better- worse actually- that I called Mom and told her I wanted to come home. Being sick is bad enough, but when you are so far from home and have no one to take care of you, it’s absolute hell! I was nearly in tears.

Monday morning finally rolled around and I was feeling a tiny, itsy bit better, but I was not at all up to working. I called my boss, who insisted that I go back to the doctor! We waited for nearly 2 hours. I was half asleep, half in tears in the waiting room. Fortunately, this doctor showed a little more interest in my and my symptoms, and actually went as far as taking a chest X-ray to make sure that didn’t have bronchitis or pneumonia. I didn’t. But, I did have some pretty bad scaring from the cough. Whatever medicine she prescribed was infinitely more effective than whatever worthless pills the previous doctor had given me. I went home and slept the rest of the afternoon and was already feeling much better by the time my boss called to ask if I would mind coming in to teach my night classes (seriously).

It’s Wednesday night, and my cough is still terrible, and I’m still a bit stuffy, but all the aches and pains are gone, along with my fever. I just pray that I have a full recovery and don’t catch anything else! The weather is finally getting a bit warmer which I’m hoping will mean that cold season is ending. It’s been a rough winter!

Fiesta

Yes, that says Fiesta! Ole! There are a lot of fine foods from back home that I've had to learn to deal without- cheese, sour cream, guacamole, chili powder, limes... just to name a few. There is hope though and its unofficial name is The Foreigner Market in Itaewon. Itaewon is the one place you can go in Seoul which more closely resembles a Western City in that 1) there are usually more foreigners than Koreans, and 2) there are all sorts of great ethnic restaurants and shops. It's also more expensive than most places in Seoul and not really the kind of place you'd go to experience Korean culture. My trip there this weekend was only the third time I'd been there and it's a place I generally try to avoid because it's a bit of a tourist trap. However, I'd been without a bowl of chili for all to long and bribed my friends to come to a dinner party (I live far away from everyone) by temping them with some.

I must admit, when I saw the foreign market, I was a bit suspicious. It looked like nothing more than a convenience store from the outside. I doubted whether I'd find everything I was looking for, but I was pleasantly surprised! Packed into this tiny place I was able to find everything I needed and then some- jalapeños, salsa, tortillas! I was in heaven. Definitely worth the hour and a half train ride! They didn't just have Mexican food, though, they had Italian, Indian, Mediterranean... you name it. If it is sold anywhere in Korea, this is the place to find it. No Ricotta cheese though- looks like my dreams of stuffed shells will continue until I return home.

Anyway, I loaded up my backpack with everything I could find for my fiesta and cooked an amazing meal the next day, complete with quesadillas and homemade guacamole! Take that, everyone who went to tropical beaches over the holiday!

There were actually only a few of us- myself, Mi Hee, Erin, Natalie, Jemma, and Coman- our token guy friend for the evening. But the party was the most fun I've had in a long time. We played cards (a very violent game called spoons), did headstands (I have a crazy bruise on my knee from when “someone” pushed me over), and laughed and laughed, especially when Coman was called, "a son of a leprechaun!" Yes, it was just a bunch a friends being silly, but it sure is fun to be silly isn’t it?

An Interesting Fellow in the Cafe

Yesterday was my first official day without coffee and where did I find myself? In the local Starbucks, of course! I had to get out of my house. I don’t care if I’m still a little sick, I refuse to sit home all break. And, a café is a great place to go when you want to be alone with your thoughts. But I just wasn’t in the mood for tea and with coffee not being an option, my choices were limited. I ended up getting a Chai Latte out of a lack of any better options. It made me think- a cup of black coffee, at least calorie-wise, isn’t as bad as a big cup of sugary whole milk. It’s better for my blood sugar and cholesterol, too. I’m tempted to change my “no coffee” pledge to “no coffee at home or work.” That way, if I really want a cup, I’ve got to get up and get out of my house and walk a bit, which is actually pretty good. It’s a motivation to get myself going.

As often happens, I just rambled on for an entire paragraph about something that I had no intention of writing. The real purpose was to tell about a really interesting guy I met while I was sitting in the café. Contrary to my most recent post, I found myself sitting at a table next to a Korean man, who was also by himself. He was reading. I was deep in thought, listening to Bob Marley and writing in my journal on the topic of “What is love?”

After we’d been there a half hour or more he politely said, “Excuse me.” I heard him after the second time, maybe third and took of my headphones. I smiled, “Yes?”

“What are you writing about?” he asked in fairly good English. I sighed. Despite his seemingly decent English, I’ve found that sometimes difficult or abstract topics like love can sometimes be very difficult to discuss with my Korean friends, because of the language barrier. Even if that proved not to be a problem, did I really want to discuss love with a perfect stranger? But, I didn’t want to be rude and here was the opportunity to have a potentially interesting conversation with a Korean. Isn’t that the reason I travel? After a long pause, I cautiously told him, “Love.”

“What about love?” he asked.

Here was an opportunity to get an outside perspective on love, from someone who doesn’t know me or my situation, from someone who is part of a totally different culture than my own.

“What about love?” I asked back. “That is the question isn’t it? What is love? What does it mean to you? How would you define it?”

Now it was his turn to pause. He sat back in his chair and put his hand to his chin, really thinking about it for a moment. Then he leaned forward again and said, “That’s a very difficult question.”

“Yes, it is,” I replied and we shared a smile. It was only the beginning of what turned out to be nearly a two hour conversation about love, philosophy, journalism, and travel. Now, you might be inclined, after hearing the topics, to think that I dominated the conversation, but it turns out that my new friend, Jung Eun is a broadcast journalist for a Korean broadcast station. (It’s little coincidences like this- call them signs- that make me think that going to back to school for journalism might be the right track.) Also, he’d live in New York for a while. So, we had much to talk about. He’d been a musician in New York and didn’t make it, but he still loved to play. He told me journalism is a tough field, but not as tough as music. We talked about the challenges and pleasures of living in a new culture and day-dreamed about places we’d like to visit.

He paid me compliments. “You are the most interesting person I’ve met.” How can you not get along with someone who will stroke your ego like that?

After a long while, he had to go, but we exchanged numbers and I hope that we will get together and talk again soon. Maybe I’ll invite him to my dinner party on Sunday. It’s so interesting to get to know so many different kinds of people in my travels. It’s where my passion for traveling stems. I’m never going to stop!

Squidelicious

Last week I had the privilege of videotaping a few of my friends partake in yet another Korean tradition- eating live squid! Now, when I say live, what I mean is that the tentacles have been chopped off of the body and eaten while they are still wriggling and sucking. Yummy! People have actually choked to death because they didn’t chew properly and the suckers grabbed onto their throats and suffocated them. Or, so I’ve heard. Anyway, the entire thing was quite amusing to me. For one, it has the Fear Factor effect of just watching someone do something so gross you just have to watch. Furthermore, it was entertaining to watch my friends try to pick up these slimy, wriggling things- sucking for their lives to the plate- using chopsticks. Lastly, I got a kick at how you could drop it in the sauce and leave it there for a moment as it went for a swim. Here are a few videos if you want to check it out!

All in all, it was an entertaining evening. Of all the crazy things that happened that night, perhaps the stupidest thing I did was to use the shot glass of a friend who was sick. I figured that the soju would kill any germs, but I was wrong. Come morning, I had quite the sore throat. It was bad enough that I actually went to the doctor- a rarity for me- that afternoon. Luck me caught an upper respiratory infection. It's been one of the worst colds I've had in a long time. Going to the doctor in Korea isn't much different from going to the doctor anywhere back home. The biggest thing is that you don't need an appointment, just show up and wait a few minutes. Also, the cost of a visit is negligible. I actually have gone twice now and it was about $4 each time. What I think is most interesting is the prescriptions that get written. I've got all these little packets of pills and I have no idea what any of them are. I just have to go on faith. They seem to work though, so who am I to say anything. And they are cheap too. I take about 5 or 6 pills three times a day for five days and the cost was about $6. Can't complain about that! Can complain that my entire weekend was wrecked! I sat home going stir crazy and watching the first two and a half seasons of The Office- which, by the way, doesn’t get my vote for best sitcom.

Work yesterday was hellish, though I’m feeling slightly better this morning. I’m hoping that I’ll be up and about come tomorrow, since it is the beginning of my Lunar New Year vacation. No big plans, but it will be nice to have some time off and time to myself as most of my friends are out of town for the week. I’m going to try to make it into Seoul and find the foreign food market in Itaewon. I want to see of they’ve got some sour cream and guacamole because I’m having some of my friends over for a chili and quesadilla night on Sunday.

Last bit of interesting information- tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. I’ve decided to give up both beer and coffee for the next 40 days! I think that people are betting against me on this one, but I’ve made up my mind and I’m sure that I can do it. I’ve been consuming both in vast quantities and I need to cleanse out my system a bit. Should help me save a little money, too! I’m going to sign up of a yoga class next week with my friend Natalie. This body is going to be ready for the beach come summer!

The Latest...

Where does one begin to describe a place like Korea? The culture unfolds before me. Things that were at first strange now seem common place. I suppose that is to be expected. What I actually find the most interesting is the more subtle things that an outsider might not even notice. For example, you never see a Korean person alone. They are always in a group or a couple. I regularly go into my local Starbucks- yes, you read that right, Starbucks- and sit with a book to read about far off places or write about my adventures, and I can't help but notice that I am the only one there sitting by myself. I never feel uncomfortable about it- I'm used to doing things on my own- but I do get a lot of sympathy glances from the people around me. They just don't do things like that here. I think that even if the odd Korean felt so inclined to do something like sit in a cafe by him or herself, they wouldn't because the culture doesn't allow for it. Korea has a very strong collective identity. I notice this too when I'm walking down the crowded streets. Koreans will not move out of your way to let you pass, they will literally push you out of their way, and they will spit on the ground a inch away from your foot. This drove me crazy when I first got here. I thought they were so rude and self-centered. Until I realized that, this too, is part of the collective identity. They are all one. The following analogy isn't meant to be offensive- they are like ants building a hole or collecting food. It doesn't matter if one climbs on top of the other, they are all there for the same purpose, working toward a common goal. And so, it just isn't offensive to push someone out of your way.

A Westerner needs to learn to retrain their mind a little bit if they want to be able to try to not stick out too much. I refrain from saying "blend in" because I don't think that it's at all possible- even for some of the people I know who have been here for years. But, you can learn to at least not make a total ass of yourself. On this, I'm still trying... I first got over my frustration with walking the city streets when I was able to let go of my idea that it was rude to push someone out of my way. Once I became comfortable with this, I stopped wanting to strangle someone every time I went for a walk.

There are other things that we thing are rude that are quite common here. One is slurping. The technique of slurping at hot beverage or soup is actually done with the purpose of cooling the liquid off before it enters your mouth. For months, I would stir my soup or let my green tea sit until it was warm, waiting many long minutes to begin consumption, while the people all around me were nearly finished. Mom always told me to stop slurping and something ingrained into your brain like that is hard to break.

Here's another interesting one. Don't say "please" or "thank you" (except in rare circumstances) to your students. These are courtesies reserved for people of equal or higher rank or age as oneself. I think that I lost a lot of respect from my students when I first started here because I used these words freely. "Please sit down." "Please hand out the papers." "Please open your books." Or, when collecting homework, "Thank you." There are times it's OK to say this to a student, for example, when one of them erases the board for me after class, without me asking. Or, when they bring me chocolates- how can you not say thanks to that? But to throw around "pleases" and "thank yous" in every sentence confused my students sense of Confucian hierarchy that is seemingly innate to every Korean. By eliminating these words from my class, and maintaining a slightly more rigid persona, I have gained an enormous amount of respect from my kids. I think they are actually more comfortable with this than the lose carefree, friendly teacher I tried to be at first, because it is what they are familiar with.

There are many more examples I could give, and many more, I'm quite sure, that I have yet to realize. It's altogether amazing to see how complex culture really is. It certainly calls ones own identity into question. I love the newness of discovery- both this place and myself.