The Here and Now

Some Things

2011-05-18T03:47:00.001-07:00

So, I have been here for a week and a half and I have written but twice.
I suck at this anymore.
Remember, many years ago when not a week would go by without me writing something.

In my own defense, the internet has been quite shoddy at the hotel.

And so has the power for that matter.
The electricity went out 7 times last night.
No, there was no storm or inclement weather to cause fluctuations in the power. There were no accidents, no buses running into power lines.
Just business as usual in India.

This place is so weird. It's first world in so many ways but has bits of 2nd and 3rd world hiding just out of sight.

Rolling power fluctuations are experienced every day nearly everywhere. No one even seems to notice when the power flickers out in a restaurant or store. (Typically there are many windows, so plenty of natural light)

Imagine you are walking down the street in a commercial area with traffic and people and shops and shiny buildings filled with technological wonders.
The air is filled with the spicy smell of curry and the thick stench of exhaust fumes.
People are dressed in modern business suits or traditional, brightly colored, sarries or an interesting combination of the two.
Look to your right, there is a black and white cow near that telephone pole, blocking, and pooping on the sidewalk.

For every modern coffee shop there is a rickety wagon on the side of the road selling bit of fruit cut with a blackened knife older than me.
For every high rising mall there are hundreds of little booths along the side of the road selling trinkets and bracelets and whatnot.

Its a weird place.

As I am writing this, I am sitting in a little coffee shop attempting to avoid the rain.
Oh the rain. It is absolutely pouring outside.
Cats and Dogs, I tell you.
The rain comes damn near everyday, typically at the same time each day, and lasts about 3 hours.
Everyday.
And somehow, everyday it catches me by surprise.

I should, by now, plan for it. Maybe carry an umbrella or at least plan on being somewhere off the streets around at around 4 in the afternoon.
Maybe even make sure to have a something a little waterproof for my laptop.
But no.
Everyday the rain catches me.
Everyday I get very wet.

Food

2011-05-18T02:39:00.000-07:00

This delicious mess on a plate is naan and a butter marsala. The interesting thing about eating in this country is that they do not use silver wear.
Nor do they use their left hand.
To eat you pull apart pieces of the Naan with your right hand, and use that piece of bread to scoop up whatever you are eating.
It's tricky. And messy.

This is a picture of one of my favorite new foods. It's called Dosa.
The main bit is a pancake wrapped around a scoop of spicy curried potatoes. It comes with two sauces, the whitish one is a coconut based, almost green curry type sauce. The red is like a red curry. Just like with the naan, you only use your right hand and no silverware to eat this.

This is a Me Ta Ban. It's an after dinner treat that is sweet and is said to aid in digestion. It is made up of a green leaf of some sort coated in a sugar syrup, and filled with a variety of spices including fennel. The red things are cherries.
Pretty tasty.

Sometimes you have to stop for McDonald's. Every country seems to have a variation of this iconic fast food joint.
In Korea, they had Kimchi burgers.
In Thailand, they added shrimp burgers to the menu.
Here in India there is one ingredient completely missing. Beef.
No hamburgers at all.
They had chicken, they had fish, they had veggie, they even had a spicy paneer burger. But no beef.
I had the spicy paneer burger. It consisted of a slice of deep fried paneer (that solid Indian cottage cheese) on a bun with all the normal fixings and a spicy mayo. It was pretty tasty.

Day 2

2011-05-13T09:54:00.001-07:00

I wish I had a story for day 2. Or pictures. Or anything really. But I don't.
Sadly, the Jet Lag monster attacked and sabotaged me.

After a generous nap on day 1 I did a little wandering, had dinner, and then was suppose to sleep.
Everything in this country pretty much closes at 11. So, once it gets late, its pretty much bed time.

But due to a nearly 12hour time change, I was not tired. B was at work, he works 3rd shift, and I was left to my own devices. And I was not tired.
Not even a little bit.

I played on the computer.
I watched movies.
I did situps on a far harder wood floor than comfortable.
I attempted to jump on the bed, and determined that to be a very bad idea.
I tried to sleep, but sleep did not come.

I was still wide awake when B got off work at 9 am.
He was tired. He wanted to sleep.
Nothing in this city is open until 11am.
He put on a movie and made me lay down and be quiet. So he could take a nap.
I was asleep almost immediately.
Again.

I slept until damn near 5 pm.

Now, I didn't want to lose an entire day, so, I took a walk. And my timing couldn't have been better. Nearly a full mile from the hotel, the rain started. Oh, did the rain start.
I scampered from awning to awning, wandering around shops, mostly to be in a dry place.

By the time I got back to the hotel, 3 hours later, there was not a patch of dry clothing to be found.

So, day 2, was kind of a waste, but at least now my sleep schedule has normalized and my cloths got a free laundering!

Day 1

2011-05-11T11:02:00.000-07:00

For a little back story: I am here in India due to the generosity of a friend. B is, as cliché as it sounds, setting up a call center in Bangalore, India. He has offered up his hotel room to me. He provided me with free place to stay, a tour guide, and, since he works long hours, the freedom to run around on my own!

So, the run down.

I got in last night, late. Around 2 in the morning. It took an hour to get from the airport to the hotel.
Which means it was nearly 4 am by the time I had unpacked and showered.

4 am. Sounds like long past time time for bed, right? No.
I had been sleeping on and off for 20 hours worth of travel, plus that 4 am time was in direct conflict with a mid afternoon body time.
Stupid jet lag.
Plus, I was in India! Who can sleep in India?

So I stayed up and putzed around. I stared out the window as the sun rose. I jumped around the room in a state of giddiness until my roommate made me at least lay down until it truly was morning.
I fell asleep almost immediately.

A few hours later I woke up to a sunny sunny morning. Nothing in this city really opens until 11, and it was much closer to 9am. However, though nothing was open, the streets were open for the walking.
That sentence kind of make me sound like a street walker.

For 5 hours we walked around town.
It is hot out there.
I saw buildings and cars and sidewalks, and dirt, and people in suits, and people begging for money.
I hear the hustle and bustle of horns honking and people shouting and construction work occurring and more horns honking.

By the time the restaurants opened, I was starving.

Lunch:
Pizza Hut.
Yeah, I know. Not exactly exciting. Not exactly my style for my first meal in a new country. But B has been here for months and is not exactly an adventurous eater. So, Pizza Hut.
However, as with most chain restaurants, there were some striking changes in the menu to accommodate cultural considerations.
They had your typical cheese pizza.
There was a range of peperoni and sausage.
Then there was the pizzas with Caspian.
Tandoori sauce.
Corn.
Baby corn.
Paneer. (an India cheese cut into chunks)

it may not have been the most interesting restaurant, but it was one hell of a pizza.
Tandoori, corn, onion, peppers, Caspian, black olives, and paneer.
Yum.

Funny lunch related story. We had leftover pizza and chicken things in to go boxes. A tiny begging boy started following us down the street making hungry motions and begging for food. B, being the nice guy that he is pulled out the chicken things and gave the little boy some lunch. The boy quickly stopped looked inside the container and ran to catch-up. Shouting pizza! Pizza! He wanted the pizza, not the chicken. We gave him that too. He was just so insistent.

By 2pm the day was still young, but jet lag was hitting me in the face.
I took a nap, but the nap turned out to be a bit more like sleeping than just napping.
By the time I woke up, B was gearing up for work, he works third shift, and the sun was setting.

So now I am chilling in the hotel. Messing with the TV. Foreign TV is funny.

On the Road Again

2011-05-08T19:42:00.000-07:00

Once again I seem to leaving on a jet plane. Flying away to destinations unknown.
Leaving to States with nothing but a backpack and a ticket.
And an ipod.
And some my laptop.
And significantly more random silly things than I actually need.

I am leaving again. This time just for a couple of weeks.
This time to India.

Though I have done shockingly little writing lately, I am determined to make the next few weeks different.
There will be pictures and stories and possibly puppies.
Though this time not in soup.

So,

2010-03-11T22:42:00.001-08:00

So, after traveling to the coldest and remote bits of America, I am back in what one might call civilization.

So, after spending quite awhile in Asia, teaching “Engrish,” I am back in the U S of A.

So, after having a “read” career with real pay checks and a real ability to pay rent without fear, I am back in college.

So, after teaching science, math, and a few other fun type classes, I am back as a student taking science, math, and well, more science.

So after vacationing on beaches south of the equator and flying to a different country every few months, I am back enjoying spring break in Kentucky, rarely leaving the Bluegrass state, except for my weekly trips to Ohio.

So, after a long time away from this little blog of mine I am determined to be back.

So, after writing in a travel/adventure type blog for the past few years, it's time to switch gears to a blog more based on acedamia and my new goal in life: Medical School.

things that make you go "hmmmm"

2010-03-11T22:29:00.000-08:00

I have a hypothetical question.

If you, hypothetically, felt as if a col cold was coming on...

And if you, hypothetically, were drinking a gin and tonic....

Would, hypothetically, adding EmergenC (the vitimian C suppliment) to said gin and tonic be a futile yet delicious addition or a healthful and helpful immune system boost?

I think the latter.
(and it tastes darn good)

Yeah, I'm back.
Hopefully to stay

Things of green

2009-07-14T11:16:00.000-07:00

I could give you promises of keeping up with this blog thing better.
I could promise to tell you the stories of what I have been up to since leaving the other side of the world.

I could promise I will be a better person, eat my vegetables, quit swearing, and save puppies.

But I won't. I will just make an attempt to do better.
(And puppies deserve whatever they get!)

So, one thing I have done recently is start a garden on my porch. It's a fairly decent little garden regardless of the limited space. I have even been able to eat a few of the peppers!

Here are a few pictures...

growing

2009-07-14T11:15:00.000-07:00

Tiny Tommies

2009-07-14T11:13:00.000-07:00

Hot hot hot

2009-07-14T11:11:00.000-07:00

A rose by this name...

2009-07-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

Aged to perfection

2009-03-06T15:26:00.002-08:00

Today I was walking through the airport.
Headphones on, listening to old episodes of Dragnet from the 1940’s.
Minding my own general business, when something strange occurred.

A man looked my way and gave me a smile. A kind of flirty smile.
It took me aback. This man was in his mid thirties/early forties. Way too old to be shooting me a smile.
I automatically thought, “Dude he’s like 1000 times my age!”

Then I realized something. He was not 1000 times my age. He was not twice my age.
He was relatively close to my age.

How did I get old? When did age appropriate men start to include those in their 30’s? What the hell!

A new one

2009-03-06T15:26:00.001-08:00

Currently, I am on a plane heading back to the US of A. Soon I will touchdown on the tarmac of freedom.
The Airfield of English.
The landing strip of the slightly new and potentially exciting.

I am, believe it or not, moving back to the “real world.” (The “realness” of said world is still being debated.)

Like, right now.

In a matter of hours I will be landing in a world of wonky culture shock. There are things I am excited for. There are things I am dreading.
There are things that make me kind of queasy.

But here goes nothing.

A new chapter is starting. Hopefully this chapter will have a lot more pages than the last.

Die Hard is right

2009-03-06T15:24:00.000-08:00

Remember Die Hard 4? I could argue that it is one of the top 12 movies of all time. I think I would win that argument. (Partly because of my debate skills, mostly because the movie speaks for its wonderful self.)

Any who.

There is one thing that always bothers me about that movie is the language issue. The henchmen talk in some random guttural language, they never speak anything but their own tongue.
Their boss is an American who speaks in perfect English, he never speaks anything else.

When they talk to each other they each only speak their own languages and yet they completely understand the other.

Is there ever a situation were you would understand rapid-fire idioms in a foreign language and yet do not have the skills to answer. Why the hell would the writers do this?

It just doesn’t make sense.
Until, today. Well, technically, yesterday. But I am counting it as today.

A few of my South African friends were having a long conversation about Rugby. Two of them are fully fluent in Afrikaans; the third was raised around it, but had a family that tended toward English.

Half of the conversation was in Afrikaans and half in English. It was nutty.

Proving once again that Die Hard has a completely accurate and plausible plotline.

manly men

2009-03-06T15:21:00.001-08:00

There is one thing that I will desperately miss about Korea, about Asia really.

The man bag.
The murse.
The manly handbag.

Asian men carry handbags. Not the metro type messenger bags of the west but actual purses. Some are leather with fun flirty colors. Sometimes they are canvas with cartoon characters slashed across the sides.
I even saw a man with a vinyl bag with rhinestones and rainbows.

The strange part is, these men and manly types. They are just as likely to have a wallet, paperwork and a few tools in their purse, as they are to have chap stick, hairspray, and a fluffy bunny.

Not the best...

2009-02-03T08:59:00.000-08:00

I had a much better picture that had the details of this situation.

I spent a few days on an island that, by law, was legally required nothing in the way of motorized vehicles. Instead, there were just a few horse drawn carriages to take you from place to place.

In just one of these carriages was a full sound system. Something like this...

The Beach in Bail

2009-02-03T08:40:00.000-08:00

At Sunset, Almost...

A Weak Substitution

2009-02-03T08:20:00.000-08:00

As it turns out, that computer crash was a wee bit more serious than I had previously thought. The shiny new computer ended up with the type of crash that results in a trip to the Apple store. Not the simple trip with a small hardware fix. No, it is more on the lines of a 20% chance that I will actually be able to fix the problem without completely replacing the entire unit. That and the fact I will not see an Apple store until shortly after landing in the US of A, means a long wait for pictures.

I love technology.

But, as I recover the past potential posts and pictures I will respond to a comment left by one of the best teachers I know. She is also great at the coaching of sports of all kinds.

So, the books I read…

1. It all started with the new-ish Grisham, The Innocent Man. Not his best work, but useful for a long flight. Just interesting enough to make it through without falling asleep, but not quite enough to keep me from missing a round or two of the flight attendants and their wonderful drink carts.

2. Next came the atrocious A Tale of Two Cities. As it turns it is just as bad in adulthood as it was when I was in 7th grade. It has a great story line but that Charely Dickens is screwed up writer. I can honestly say that I have read that damned book and, this time it was not in the Cliff Notes edition.

3. Now came what I like to call fluff. Fluff is great for vacation. It means mindless fun. Jeffrey Deaver’s The Vanishing Man. Not terrible. A great form of mindlessness. Decent book.

4. Now my mind was found wanting of something less dreamy and more thought provoking. The Two Koreas. Great book, a little too heavy for the beach, but it held my interest at least ¾ of the time. Sun burning to that type of book is not recommended, though the book itself totally is.

5. Harry Potter One. No Comment.

6. Harry Potter Two. No Comment.

7. Keep with mindless and add Iris Johansen’s newest (in paperback). Quicksand. If you like mindless detective novels, you will love this one. It’s a whole lot of awesome.

8. Shit, there were a few more than the afore mentioned 7. Kathy Reichs, Devil Bones. She is a forensic anthropologist who writes about the more extreme possibilities in a job such as that. Nothing too realistic; more along the lines of CSI type crazy-ness. Great author though, one of my favorite for the fluff.

9. Stephen King’s Bag of Bones. I am nearly through with this one. Nearly. It is not bad. It is not good. I haven’t figured out what it is yet. Give me time, just give me time.

So those are the books I read over vacation. When I mentioned the 7 books read, I knew I was estimating, but I kind of though I was rounding up. As it turns I missed the mark by a few. (Though Harry Potter Should only count as a half…)

Hopefully before this week is out I will have Paint type replacements for the picture victims of the computer crash of 2009.

Moral of that story is… back your shit up. Back it up now.

Oh No!

2009-02-01T05:34:00.000-08:00

I just made it home from a wonderful amazing relaxing vacation.

My flights were long, but they allowed me to finish my 7th book of the week. Which, frankly, is awesome.

I have a series of pictures and several mildly humorous stories about the trip, however, there became a problem.

On the plane back to Korea my computer crashed. My shiny fun computer, the one I just bought a few months ago. The one that I had just downloaded all my trip pictures onto. The one with all the stuff I had written on the trip and several things from the past few months.

Without back-ups.

There is hope, I don't have a lot of it, but there is some. I just have to wait for apple office hours and hope there is a quick and easy fix. Keep your fingers crossed.

I will attempt to re-write those stories and maybe use some sort of paint program to re-make the pictures.

My home away

2009-01-31T03:31:00.000-08:00

This is where I stayed.

There was much in the way of beach views and 20 ft ceilings.

This little cabin was mine and mine alone.

My little garden

2009-01-31T03:23:00.000-08:00

Sometimes things are weird

2009-01-31T03:18:00.000-08:00

Read line 4.

Thought you'd like to know

2009-01-24T08:26:00.001-08:00

I am currently on my way to Bali.
Indonesia.

Beaches.
Pools.
Awesome-ness.

Jealous?

You should be.

Maybe not... but it made me giggle

2009-01-20T01:26:00.000-08:00

This is not a funny story. It's not even a mildly entertaining story. But the incident involved made me and one of my uppermost bosses giggle, so I figured I'd retell it.

We were on a field trip today. A field trip to the art village across the street from my place of employment. We were walking outside, around the various buildings, trees, sculptures, and streams.

Off to the right of our procession of students was one such stream. Standing in the midst of the slow moving water was a man in thigh high rubber boots and a fishing hat. He had a small net, a few buckets, and what looked like a ladle. He was cleaning bits of trash out of the would-be pristine environment.

The kids were a bit excitable and began shouting hello to the older gentleman as he ladled through the murky water.

The young student directly to my left shouted something in a sing-song-y Korean.
Now, this being an English emersion program and the fact that the director of my school was not 3 feet in front of me, I glanced at the student and muttered our mantra, “English Only...”

She looked up, and in one of the creepiest little kid voices I have ever heard, repeated her previous comment in English.

“Don't drink the waaater...”

Meeting

2009-01-12T03:34:00.001-08:00

Today I had a meeting.

Today I had THE meeting.

I was in the big building with the administration all clad in suits and ties

I walked in with my ripped jeans and an old leather jacket ready for THE meeting.

I sat, we chatted, we mulled over the more serious of matters and chuckled over the lighter ones.

When I left the building there was a weight off my shoulders. I am officially not re-newing my contract. I am moving back to the states. To the lower 48. To the “Real World.”

It’s has been a long and difficult process to figure out what to do. Should I stay or should I go?
Should I continue on in a world so far away?
Should I move back to a place of gas prices and jobs where you actually have to work?

Today was THE meeting.

My boss looked surprisingly sad too see me not sign on the line and encouraged me to come back again someday. He also asked if I had any friends back home who would want to take my place here.

We discussed plane tickets. I should have a one way ticket in the next week or so.
We talked about my last paycheck and the housing deposit.
We talked about Visa’s and passports.

I am going home. Or at least to my home country. At least for awhile.
Only 45 more days…

Sticky

2008-12-18T02:57:00.000-08:00

Today I played with super glue.

I did my very best to keep the glue off my fingers and only on the proper sides of said project. However, between a combination of the tiny size of the project in question and my extreme lack of fine motor coordination, I ended up with quite a coating on nearly every digit.

I also managed to glue myself to my jeans, to a glass of water, and for a few brief frightening moments to my computers space bar.

Now, a thick film of glue, though not something exciting and fun on a normal day, is not really worth thinking too much about. Certainly nothing that would warrant a written account.

However, I find that a silly story such as this is a testament to my “ability” to function as a normal human. Plus my glue-y dilemma did not quite end there.

My place of employment uses a fingerprint scanner to clock in and out for work.

Can you see where I am going with this.

I was running a bit late for work this afternoon (due to an unscheduled amount of time in the bathroom spend hand washing), and ran from the house with bits of super-ness still clinging to my fingers.

I reached the sign-er in-er and pressed my finger to this high tech time punch.
Nothing.
I moved my finger to a more readable position.
Nothing.
I scrapped at my finger.
Nothing.
I threatened the wall mounted scanner of doom menacingly.
Nothing.
I cursed.
Nothing.

I tried one more time with gusto and optimism.
Nothing.

I, it seems, do not exist.

I ran off with fingers crossed (and very nearly stuck that way) without clocking. I can only hope that today is not the day they check the records to dock pay. I would hate to have to explain myself.

What?

2008-12-04T03:05:00.000-08:00

I mentioned that my work computer was infected with a deadly case of Korean. It has caused much pain and suffering over the span of a few weeks.

I have tried everything short of hitting the damned thing with a baseball bat to effectively do my work. The baseball bat is begining to look more appealing every moment.

But, the work must get done. I have bothered my coworkers (those for whom Korean is a native tongue), guessed, and clicked randomly with fingers crossed. Some things have been wildly effective. Others, not so much.

Tonight, I decided to be pro-active. I hopped onto Babel Fish, ready to translate the necessary key terms. I was going to get some work done if it killed me.

I typed the Korean words as accuratly as possible.
This was the result.

Where the hell is that bat?

Jobs.

2008-11-30T05:36:00.000-08:00

So an interesting thing happened to me a few weeks back.

On my campus there is an office, the Head teacher’s office.
At some point this week I walked into said office carrying a clipboard, as I often am known to do. Upon my arrival, the soon to be wife of our HT gave me an odd look.
“Hey have I missed something? Are the you the new Evening Leader?”

“Good God No!” I exclaimed.

Her soon to be hubby explained that the new position holder had not been announced yet and that I had not applied.

Her response was one of dismay, “Why not?”

“Well, the job requires actually working, where I have made a lifestyle out of avoiding such things” I answered quickly. I may already be the leader of the cooking department, but I have found many ways to avoid actually putting in an honest days’ work.

Suddenly there was a barrage of questions and queries from the both of them about why I have not applied. I was stunned. What do I do?

As I left the room I simply said, “Ok, fine, have it your way. But I swear, as God is my witness, I will not work at that job.”

A few days later I received the “good” news. I am now the Evening Leader.

That’s right, a promotion. When I thought my last few months here would be full of slacking and debating on when to step down from my current position, I was dead wrong.
They are really making me work.
A lot.

I will be designing a new curriculum for the upcoming holiday program, as well as streamlining the current programs.

I will not, however, be in the kitchen anymore. (Thank God)

The upshot is that I have my own desk in the leaders office and I will have computer time throughout the day to work on many projects, including this little old site.

So, for the next few months I will be found in an office, pouring over power points, obsessing over order forms, manhandling obsolete manipulatives, and sulking over a Korean operating system. (That’s right, the computer sitting on my wonderful desk has a Korean operating system. Even the “Start” button is in Korean)

Wish me luck in the gig. (I am defiantly going to need it!)

Say cheese!

2008-11-30T05:31:00.001-08:00

I was sitting in Seoul in some random train station restaurant.
I was sitting, minding my own business, ipod on, and mind definatly somewhere else.

A man approached. He was a youngish sort wearing a face mask* that hid his mouth and nose.
He mumbled something in broken English, pulled out a phone, and showed me a picture of myself. "Remember me?" he asked.

He had been a student during military week at some point last year and still had pictures of all his "favorite" teachers on his phone.
It was an odd moment. Teaching and living on a campus such as mine I often wonder what happens to all the pictures that are taken. I live in an amusement park, and the teachers provide the amusement.
Everyday pictures are taken. Sometimes they are group shots with a handful of students and a teacher or two. Sometimes they are individual poses. Sometimes action shots during class. Sometimes they are taken by surprise by the day visitors who see us eating and want proof.

It's an odd thing.

So pictures are taken every day. Pictures of the people I work with. Pictures of me. what happens to all these photographs? Where do they go when they leave the village? Are they downloaded onto a hard drive and forgotten? Are they added to a screen saver slide show for a few weeks and then replaced with bigger and better things? Are they posted on Facebook or Cyworld (the Korean version of Facebook)?

Are they printed out and hung on a living room wall? Possibly sitting peacefully on a mantel.

Are pictures of me all over this bloody country?

After the initial shock of being recognized we talked for a moment. He showed me the other pictures he had taken at the Village. Then his food arrived at a nearby table and he scurried back. The next few minutes were fairly awkward as his was pointing at me and speaking speedy Korean. He was, it seemed, telling the group at his table about me and the village.

I tried to eat without getting food all over my face or dripping on my shirt.

* The mask I am referring to is one of the medical-ish masks that many in Asia wear when they have a cold or sometimes out shopping or traveling around large groups of people. Since it is nearly cold and flu season they have been popping up everywhere.**

**Which, by the way, is why I thought it ludicrous when the Chinese was all up in arms about the American team arriving at the Olympics wearing the black face masks. Every body wears them. Hell, they sell kid sized ones with teddy bear mouths on them.

It's Magic

2008-11-12T06:20:00.000-08:00

Ah, Konglish.

It's that strange combination of Korean and English that produces a variety of new words the love and use.

Sometimes Konglish is made of simple words that are almost 100% recognizable in an English setting.
Like "Aircon" instead of "Air Conditioning."
Or "hand phone" instead of "cell phone."

Sometimes it takes a step further.
Like "Autobike" for "Motorcycle."
Or "Open car" instead of "convertible."

There are times it goes farther still.
Like "eye shopping" instead of "window shopping"
Or "stetson" for a "stapler."
Even "Rolling papers" for a special stationary for passing notes to your friends.

With all the fun and exciting Konglish out there it is difficult to pin down the best. But I have done it. I have found the absolute best Konglish word in the entire made-up dictionary.

"Magic Day"

Magic day, means, well, it means the time of the month when a women is… uh… least fun to be around.

Magic day.

Doesn't it have a great ring to it? In the West we come up with little pet names for this "special" time. Rarely are they pleasant or uplifting.

But Magic day is just that. It is innocuous enough for a man to say it without blushing and optimistic enough to almost make a girl feel better about the whole situation.

So next time you struggle to explain your condition, take a tip for this side of the world.
It's not "that time of the month."
"Aunt flo is not visiting."
"Ruby from Virginia is not making the rounds."

It's simply another Magic Day.

Driving this Daisy

2008-11-10T08:00:00.001-08:00

Something happened this weekend. Something strange and unusual. Something that has not happened in a very long time.

Something that I have been waiting for, that I have been missing, that I have been pining for for a very long time.

I drove a car.

That's right, I drove a car. I drove an actual gas guzzling, people moving, vehicle.

A few of us wanted to hit up the grocery store, a task that requires a taxi or two. As we prepared from the arduous journey one of our car owning friends offered up their mode of transportation.
As it turns, however, there was only one person in our little group that had the skills to drive a stick shift.

One guess as to who that was.

I got to drive. I drove fast and I drove slow.
I drove up hill and down.
I turned both left and right.

I freaking drove.

Right now I can imagine that you are shrugging your shoulders with a "who cares" kind of look on your face. Your thinking, "driving, heck, I do that everyday."

But but but, I haven't. I haven't driven a real true car in over a year.
I mean, sure, I have my bike. But there is defiantly a difference between riding a crouch rocket and driving something with doors.
Cars keep you a bit warmer.
Cars have a trunk.
Cars have much more comfortable seats.

Plus, you don't end up with helmet hair.

Oh, politics

2008-11-02T07:23:00.000-08:00

I know I am a world away, and you have likely already seen clips of this weekend's Saturday Night Live.

But just in case, I think you should follow the link and check out McCain's performance.

I know what you are thinking, I am only posting this because I am a republican... but bear in mind, this has been a difficult election for me. I want to stand by my values (mostly capitalism)... but the republican party has been tough to stand by lately.

Not to mention, this clip has little to do with political alliance, and more to do with things that are funny.

http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/

follow it and check out the scenes with McCain. They are quite funny.
And I do love a good joke. (hey, I voted for Nader once...)

And, don't forget to vote.

I think the "sad grandpa" won me over.

Music to my bleeding ears

2008-10-28T03:53:00.001-07:00

Have you ever been to an amusement park? Disney Land, Six Flags, Kings Island.

Have you noticed the constant playing of music?

The loud speakers adorning every lamppost and sign pole sing out in a near constant barrage of songs, announcements, and repetitive nonsense.
I have been to many parks.
I have barely noticed the noise.
I never gave a thought to those workers who spend every day listening to the same sounds.

I never once considered how bloody annoying it could be.

I live in an amusement park.
My bedroom window is 4 ft from one of those bloody speakers.

Every day I hear the same songs. Everyday they wake me up at 9:30 with some variation of silly sing song-y suffering.
For the past few weeks, while gearing up for Halloween we have one particularly heinous song that plays about every 15 minutes.

“Halloween Halloween, what do you mean?
Halloween Halloween, what do you mean?
Cats and bats and jack o lanterns too.
Halloween Halloween, what do you mean?”
And so on. And so forth.

It plays around in my head. Rattles me awake in the morning. Lulls me to sleep during my afternoon nap.

In the year that I have been here this atrocious song has ranked higher than any other in the levels of awfulness they put us through.

Worse than the jazz version of “10 little bugs in a bed, the little one said, ‘roll over roll over”
Worse than “I like ice cream, I don’t like onions.”
Worse than “Little bear little bear, what do you wear”
Worse even than George Michael sings Christmas Carols.

One week until Halloween is over, which means that in one week I will no longer be forced to listen to the childish vocals and creepy melody.

But then, they might just start the George Michael up again…

Here is another one

2008-10-27T07:38:00.000-07:00

Yet another music video was filmed almost entirely on campus. This one almost drove the kiddies crazy.
The night scene at the end of the video was filmed just as we had to walk our students past that very clock tower.
But, they refused to pause their shooting for the 5 minutes that it takes to walk 400 kids past that special little corner.

Imagine, if you will, keeping 400 13 year olds silent and in a strait line while passing a fairly famous singer filming their brand new video.

If you think it was a simple task, you are missing a thing or two upstairs.

Kim Jong Kook - Today More Than Yesterday MV

http://nz.youtube.com/watch?v=mZkriKIyqEc

Anything for story

2008-10-14T05:05:00.001-07:00

So I buddy of mine is being deported.
She didn’t do anything terrible.

She didn’t steal.
She didn’t kill.
She didn’t sell sensitive secrets to the North Koreans.

She simply went on vacation outside the country with an expired work visa. Upon arrival she found that the extension she had filed had been made null by that vacation and therefore she has to leave the country within the week.

She is one my closest friends here and I am torn up that she is leaving.

But at least she got a good story out of it.

“Remember that time I was deported from an Asian country…”

shockingly dill (part 3)

2008-10-07T08:48:00.000-07:00

Here is a weird one.
Something I have missed as well as something I have seen far too much of.

Pickles.

I know, this is not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the differences between South Korea and the U.S.A. But, believe it or not, this is a huge issue.

Pickles.

This country loves sweet pickles. They love the pickles that you would consider the off brand, sweet as sugar, kind of fishy type pickles.

When you order pizza, it comes with a free side of pickles.
You order pasta of any kind, it comes with a free side of pickles.
You order any dinner really, something is going to come pickled.

What I miss is not having pickles with every meal.
What I miss is dill pickles.

This country is seriously lacking in dill pickles.

In the year I have been here I have not had one dill pickle. I miss them.
One day, one day soon, something dill-y will be back on the menu.

Or at least something dill-y at the grocery store.

Shocking... part 2

2008-09-24T05:26:00.000-07:00

I am now looking at under 5 months left here in Korea. 5 months left outside the western world. 5 months left before I come home.

I had a thought yesterday.

It was a weird flash of thought that took a few too many seconds to realize that my thought was wrong. Then, I had to think about it being wrong.

A girl just recently made the move to Korea. She is from the States and arrived here only 2 weeks ago. She was talking about shopping. It was an unimportant antidote about shopping for bras and getting into an argument with someone that worked there.
The story went on about the argument and the silly little things that can be expressed in those situations.

In my mind I had a thought.
The thought went something like this.

It’s been a long time since I have been bra shopping. I can’t imagine attempting to have that argument with a shop-keeper.
I mean, my Korean is not that strong. How do you have that argument with hand signals and a rudimentary mix of languages.

I was about to ask her about hand signals and language barriers when I realized something.

Nearly everyone speaks English in the States.
She had this altercation in English.

In 5 months I won’t have to resort to hand motions and simple words.
In 5 months most people will understand me. (Well, maybe not understand “me,” but they will know the words I am saying.)

It’s hard to explain the reaction I had. It was this moment of concern, followed by a moment of relief, followed by a long pause of “Holy shit, I have been out of the world for far too long.”
Or maybe I have been in the world for too long.

Either way. In 5 months I will be around people who speak the same language I do.
In 5 months I will be able to listen in to other people’s conversations.
In 5 months I will be able to order food without guessing or just crossing my fingers and hoping I did it right.
In 5 months I will be able to fight.

I really don’t know if it is a good thing I am going back.

I got the right stuff, baby.

2008-09-19T10:20:00.001-07:00

Today I was walking down a long hallway. At the end of the hallway was a mirror. It was a full floor to ceiling mirror. As I walked I did a wiggle. I did a little shake.
I made my booty roll.
All for the benefit of the mirror.

I make my own fun.

A door opens just ahead of me to the left and a man begins to walk towards me. Not really towards me, but towards in a passing trajectory.

I pass the man and he passes me. In the mirror I see him turn his head.
I see him turn his shoulders.
I see him nearly walk backwards for a step or two as he followed my ass with his eyes.

Then when he tore his eyes off my ass for a moment, he noticed his own reflection in the mirror. An interesting mix of surprise and embarrassment crossed his face just before he whipped his head around and continued down the path.

I may not be a tiny Korean, but I still got a little something.

Wait a moment...

2008-09-19T10:20:00.000-07:00

Life, it seems is made up with long stretches of waiting.
Waiting for buses.
Waiting in lines.
Waiting to exhale.
Waiting for work to be over.

Right now I am waiting for a train. I have been waiting for this train for the past 2 hours and will continue waiting for this train for another two. In the middle of my vacation I am waiting.

Train stations, much like airports are full of interesting people. But, unlike airports, the people here are much more… odd.

The homeless man sleeping on the bench in the back.
The kids playing with small cheap toys and plastic bags on the floor.

Men in suits sitting next to men in rags.

I was hit on by a very drunk older man who reeked of lunch-time Soju.

I was, yet again, chastised for the hole in my jeans by an older woman. She sat next to me and poked at my knee until I got up feigning a bathroom break.

I stepped in a puddle of fish guts just outside of the train station.
My feet still feel icky.

While listening to my ipod, I had a creepy old guy with crusty ears and a snotty nose try to steal my earphones to listen to whatever I was listening to.
This time I ran, no feigned bathroom breaks. He did not touch my headphones.

In the states I would have felt uncomfortable in a train station surrounded by the weird.
In the states I would have had my bag zipped shut and tucked underfoot.
In the states I would be a little wary about taking a nap with my computer sitting all willy-nilly next to me.

Here, here everything is different.

Here, situations are about as safe as possible. There is no fear of danger or theft. No fear about random bodily damage.
No fear at all. Maybe fear of the old crusty guy and his creepy ears touching my headphones.

I love this country.

I hate waiting.
The train is still hours away.

I think I need to do laps around the station.

Again...

2008-09-15T19:19:00.000-07:00

I can’t believe I have been in this country for over a year. I am at the point now that things are starting to repeat themselves. I have done some things more than once. I have seen things repeatedly.

Holidays are coming up that I have seen before.

I am currently writing from the beautiful city of Busan, on the southern tip of South Korea celebrating the Korean version of Thanksgiving.

Sometimes in my day to day life I forget how truly strange this country is. It truly is a foreign land. They do many things that are not entirely normal.

Remember this time last year when I did the Dr. Fish thing? The little fishes that swim around in a tank.
Little fishes that are shiny and wiggly.

Little fishes that eat away at the dead skin on your toes and heels.

I had the “pleasure” of trying it out again. This time I attempted to be a man about it all.
Instead of sticking a single finger in the water and freaking out as soon as the fish touched me, I slipped both feet below the surface and gritted my teeth as they started munching.
It is the oddest, most uncomfortable, completely strange feeling imaginable.
It tickles.
It tickles a lot.

It took every ounce of willpower to keep my feet under,
It took effort and much clenching of my butt cheeks to stop me from jerking.

I failed more often than not.

For fifteen minutes I gritted and squirmed.

My feet are nice and smooth now. The joy of fishy pedicures.

What else will vacation hold for me…

Shocking... part 1 (possibly)

2008-08-27T04:57:00.001-07:00

I have spent the past half an hour reading about traffic.
It started with one simple article about parking issues and in the way that news sites often are, I was constantly a click or two away from countless related articles.

One article after another detailing parking, traffic, and carpooling.
The price of gas, carbon footprints, road rage.

I feel disconnected.

For three years I have been outside the world.

Two years in a chilly place of occasional taxis, more frequent snow-goes, and millions of footfalls for short distances. I had a car the whole time, but that car resided in sunny Florida, a long way from my Alaskan home.

I have now been in Korea for one year. One year, yesterday.
I have my motorcycle, it’s fun and almost fast. I can drive along country roads to country destinations.
Out in the boondocks there is little traffic.

When we hit real cities, Ilsan, Geumchan, even Seoul, we rely completely on public transportation. Buses are routed to every place a person might go.
A spider web of subway routes cover the city and many outlying areas.
Trains snake across the country.

You don’t have to drive. There is no need.
Except for the actual feeling of driving, there is no want to own a car.

Sometimes, I think to the future. To that moment when I move back to the States. To a city. To a seemingly normal life. I think about the culture shock that three years away has prepared me for.
I think about driving and parking and traffic jams.
I think about gas prices and carbon emissions, and road rage.

With 6 months left in my fairytale world those thoughts of the future has become more frequent. Will I survive re-entry?

Holy crap, two in one week. This is nearly a freaking record!

Green and crunchy

2008-08-26T07:18:00.000-07:00

Last night I found myself in a friend’s apartment staring at a rather large, dead, praying mantis.

It was prone on a copy of “Speaking Korean” which was displayed prominently on the kitchen table.

At first I just happened to notice it out of the corner of my eye. My brain, slow on the uptake required a second glance.
Surely there cannot be a two-inch bug reclining next to me.

I looked away, blinked, rubbed my eyes a bit. I looked back.
It was still there.

It’s wings splayed out in all kinds of dead glory.

I couldn’t help but stare.

My mouth is typically faster than my brain. It’s typically faster than my tact and good sense. Even my mouth was surprised and couldn’t find the words to ask about such an event.

Before my mouth could come up with a comment, my eyes saw a plate of crackers being passed my way. Directly over the pale green carcass. Right over the body.

How do you ask about something so very obvious? How do you phrase the question?
“Please, pass the cheese. Oh and by the way, you have a bug three inches from the jam.”

“Is the Mantis part of your new décor? Does it assist in the Feung Sheu of the room some how?”

As my brain ran through the possible tactful methods of questioning, time passed. The kind of passing that takes you farther and farther from the moment where you can actually comment on a strange occurrence such as this without seeming either daft or incredibly unobservant.

Time passed slowly.
The bug remained.

I left without solving the mystery. That bug might be there still.

(Yes, for the record... you did wait an entire 5 weeks for a story about dead things and crackers.)

Observations

2008-07-17T03:58:00.001-07:00

This is a colorful country.
Buildings are painted. Signs shout in bright shades.
A rainbow of sparkled and colored cloth walk the streets.

Then there are the people. The multi-cultural swarm of beings flood down every walkway.

Everywhere you look there are Saris and Burkes. Tank tops and long sleeves. Mini-skirts and turbans.
A weird mix of cultures.

The hole in the knee of my jeans seemed to draw a surprising amount of attention considering the wide range of fashions. Everyone’s eyes seemed to land on my knee. (Forget the chick in the mini skirt walking next to me, check out that knee!)

And here I was worried about the Hebrew symbol around my neck.

Interestingly, I did see some things that dispelled a few stereotypes.

I had no idea how much variance went into burkes. In my mind I only imagined long stretches of black material. I saw no design. No beauty.
But, though I would personally never wear one, they are actually quite pretty. Sequin littered the headscarves. Lace edged the bottoms. They sparkled. There were a ton of different styles and designs.

I saw a woman and whom I presumed was her husband. In my mind I saw her carrying the bags and toting the children.
In reality, he pushed the stroller. He carried the purchases. And as I followed them for a block or two he even carried her purse. Through all that fabric I saw who wore the pants.
As a side note, she was even the hard-core type that had not only her entire body covered but also a sheer sheet of black fabric covering her entire face.

As a side note. There is nothing funnier than a woman in a full burka walking on the beach.

I am sitting beach side at the hotels restaurant. Not too far away is an Arab couple. The woman is wearing a full burka. The type with only the eye slits. There is a possibility that they are going to come in for dinner. I hope they come.
I really do.
I am curious as to how a person eats with their whole face covered. Do you adjust the scarf and tuck the food up under it?
Do you lift the scarf completely?
What if it’s soup?

Or something with the potential of slurping, like spaghetti?

Yes!

I have my answer. I woman is not 3 tales from me wearing the eye slit only head scarf of fun.

One arm is holding the fork. The other lifts the scarf from her face just high enough to tuck the fork under.

It looks simple enough, yet still a pain in the ass. I wonder how she eats corn on the cob…

Ribbed for her pleasure

2008-07-17T03:50:00.000-07:00

I saw a sign today. I wish to hell I had had my camera.
There was a booth in the night market that sold sunglasses. The sign read,

“Eye condoms 20 Ringgits”

Eye condoms. Well, I suppose they do provide protection…

Where am I now?

2008-07-14T05:33:00.000-07:00

I have gone on vacation again. Currently I am at an internet cafe in Penang, Malaysia. I just arrived at this island today, having ridden a bus her from Kuala Lumpur this morning.
Having spent the night there after flying in that morning.
Having spent a 12 hour lay-over in Taipie.

Needless to say, though I'll say in anyway, it has been a travel intensive few days.

But travel is not all that I have done. (Well it is, but the travel has made it possible to do many travel related things.)

I have been in three countries in so many days.
I have written many things of a various nature on my laptop. (And having done so have not been near wireless internet yet.)
I have not taken any pictures.
I have spoken with many random and assorted people. Who have given me much in the way of random and assorted advice on my travels.
I have eaten more Indian and Malaysian food than I can count. (Which means I reek of garlic and curry.)
I have seen an inner city so jam packed with people, with cultures, with colors, with cars, that I have gotten the distinct feeling that I am truely in another country. (I'll explain that at a later date.)

Plus I have had a beer on the beach. (Which I intend to repeat shortly.)

I promise pictures (hopefully I will find wireless and will be able to post them properly.)

Hope you are all having fun at work.
Because I am on vacation!

DMZ

2008-06-29T07:41:00.000-07:00

This weekend I went to the DMZ.
For those not in the acronym know, the DMZ stands for the De-Militarized Zone. The area between North Korea and South Korea. The would-be front line. The once and former last line of battle.

If these walls could talk.
And actually, they did.
There were slide shows with pictures of the past. There were buildings covered with words and history.
There were short briefs detailing events gone by.

In short, we learned a lot.

To prove my learning, here is a list of what I now know.

A few years back the DMZ housed the world’s most dangerous gold course. This one-hole wonder is located a matter of meters from North Korea.
Its place as number one was recently taken by a course in Kabul, Afghanistan. Also created by the American Military.

There are two villages in the DMZ. One is owned by the South Koreans and the other by the North.
The southern village is full of farmers who are well compensated to live and farm in this notoriously dangerous and land mine fill area. (In fact, they say there are still over 2 million land mines scattered throughout the DMZ.) The northern village, known affectingly by the military as Propaganda Village, is a bit of a sham. Civilians do not live there. Most of the buildings are nothing but facades. And up until recently they blared propaganda on loud speakers with enough volume to be heard far over the border.
Things about a pro-communist world.
About the greatness of Kim Jung Ill.
About why you should defect in their direction.

Hence the name Propaganda Village.

A few years ago the South Korean Village put p a flag. A flag on a rather large pole.
North Korea could not be outdone and erected a pole far larger. One that supports the largest flag in commission in the world. It measures 31 feet across and weighs 600 pounds.
In a related event, Soldier of Fortune magazine is offering a one million dollar reward to anyone with the stones to cross the border and liberate a 1 square foot of that flag.
If you have a plan, I am close to that area and could put said plan in action. You have to, however, be willing to foot the bill for my extradition if it becomes necessary.
The picture below is of that village and the pole in question. Sadly there was no wind and therefore the flag is quite limp.

There is a bridge in the DMZ that is known as The Bridge of No Return. It is the bridge used when the North and South Korean prisoners of war were given the choice of which country to return to at the end of the war.
They had an actual choice.
But once they made that choice they were stuck with it. They could never return.
Hence the name.

The following is a picture of the bridge. It is not much to look at, unfortunately. Bt the story is pretty cool.

Next stop on the tour was the actual border. There are several buildings on both sides of the line. There were soldiers from both countries guarding their respective patch of grass.
We saw the rooms that the peace talks took place in.

At this point our military guide started shoving us in our bus. His voice was one of urgency. As it turns an American government official was crossing the border. He had just witnessed the destruction of North Korea’s Nuclear cooling tower and was coming back to the south.
I managed to snap a picture.

Since the end of the war there have been many isolated incidents that had the potential of starting things a fresh. One such incidence was in the mid 70’s and is now known as the Axe Murder Incident.
Guess how it got that name.

It’s a long convoluted story that you really should read but I am not going to retell for fear of messing the details. Google it if my version does not do it justice. (And my snippet most defiantly will not do it justice.)
For a short version it involved a tree between the North and South Korean lookouts, one that needed a trimming.
This led to 3 US soldiers taking their axes to do some pruning. They were then attacked and killed by numerous North Korean soldiers.

This, in turn, led to Operation Paul Bunion. 50 armed Karate trained South Korean soldiers, jeeps full of armed American Military, a war ship stationed off the coast, and heap of other random weapons all backed up a small grouping of soldiers with machine guns and chain saws.

They cut that damned tree down.

All in all, the trip was great. Though my passport was never stamped, I stepped both feet on North Korean soil.

That’s right mom. I have been in North Korea.

Noses

2008-06-25T21:55:00.001-07:00

The summer is here for sure.

It is fairly hot here and terribly humid.

There are the random unexpected suntans and burns in strange places.
There are the sweat drenched walks to and from work.
There is foreign pollen in the air causing my nose to explode in a cacophony of noise and dripping snot.
Good shit, really.
Good times.

Nothing like sniffeling and snorting during cooking class.
Nothing like the joy of sneezing with your hands covered with flour.

Needless to say that after one such class I have had to take the back seat to all cooking like endeavors for the past day or two.

The joy of inventory instead of teaching.
The joy of disipline instead of instruction.
The joy of hitting the bloody power point buttons instead of being a real and tangible member of the classroom.

Damn nose.
Stupid pollen.
Freaking empty bottle of antihistamines.

I feel like there is a waterfall in my nasal cavity.

My bike!

2008-06-15T05:08:00.000-07:00

Here is a pretty picture of my bike.
It's shiny and happy and almost fast.

I have been spending a lot of time tooling around rice patties, seeing the sights, attempting to find a way into North Korea.

For the past few years I have really missed having my own form of transportation. I have lived in places where there were either no roads (Alaska) or a place so far away I just couldn't get my car to go (Korea).
My car is somewhere in Florida.
Far too far from here.

Now I have the freedom I have been missing for so long.
I call her Bosco.
Bosco the Bike

Pride

2008-05-29T00:24:00.001-07:00

I am sitting on campus, on our "Main Street."
I have my computer on my lap and am getting a tan from the crazy intense humid sun.
It's a pretty kick ass way to spend part of my work day.

Except,

Ocassionally, (read "freaking often") marauding groups of children come rampaging past.

Shouting things liike "Hello!"
"Nice to meet you!"
"I'm fine thank you and you!"

The usual "English" of little Korean children.

Then came one little boy.
Maybe 7 years old.
A smile spreading across his face as he tore up to me.
Waving like a crazy person.

"I am a very handsome boy!" he shouted.

Yes, yes he is...

Vaca

2008-05-21T07:19:00.000-07:00

I recently got back from a trip to the Philippines. A full week away from work.
Away from responsibility.
Away from jackets.

A full week in the sun and surf.

I wrote a story while at work today all about my trip. Or at least the first few days of it.
It is currently on my gig stick, ready to be uploaded.
However, there is a bit of a problem. The computer it was written on had a lack of Internet. (Hence the lack of story at that time.)

My gig stick is positively full of viruses. (Hence the lack of story now.)

Once I hit a computer tomorrow with Internet access that does not actually belong to me, I will tell you much more about my week of beaches.

Palm-y day

2008-05-21T07:18:00.001-07:00

Tiny monkey

2008-05-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

I have a monkey on my back

2008-05-21T07:14:00.000-07:00

To rid yourself of earwax

2008-05-21T07:13:00.000-07:00

For those who forget

2008-05-21T07:12:00.000-07:00

Hogs and Pies

2008-05-07T20:32:00.001-07:00

The following is a story I should have told long ago.
A story I avoided telling for the sake of my mother. I would not want her to have a heart attack on account of me.

So I put off this story, waiting till the learning curve had subsided.
Waiting to be in the comfort zone.
Now I feel confident that I all the learning type incidents are far in the past.

Now I can tell you my news.

I am now the proud owner of a motorcycle.

I have been riding quite a bit lately. Never very far, never very fast (motorcycles can be dangerous, you know).
But riding none-the-less.

I go up to the store every few days to pick up fresh veggies.
I wander the back streets seeing the sites.
I make Kimbop runs during lunch.

I throw on my leather jacket, a backpack, and, of course, my silver bowl shaped helmet that is ever so helpful in making me look cool, and hit the open road.

I get stares.
I get honks.
I get children laughing and pointing.

Seeing a blonde, as I have mentioned before, is a rarity in this country.
Seeing a woman on a bike is a rarity in this country.
Seeing a blonde woman on a bike is a flat out once in a lifetime occurrence.

So I get craning necks.

At least I know that the cars on the road know I’m there. At least they are paying attention to the bitch on a bike.

With my new found freedom I have learned something interesting about the area in which I have lived for the past 8 months.
It’s rather pretty in these parts.

Every time I have been out and about I have seen some new bit of countryside. Some new rice patty. A lake with the sun glinting off in crazy patterns.
Cow pies littering the road.

Cow pies clinging to my bike wheels.
Cow pies splattering on my jeans.

Frickin cow pies.

Kickin it

2008-05-01T01:50:00.000-07:00

Oooh, here is something else to entertain you.

At the village there are many talented people. They have talents in all types of areas.
We have lawyers.
We have artists.
We have singers and dancers.

We even have a damn good knitter. (Freaking knitter)

A few of these crazy kids banded together to make a music video of thier very own.
The video debuted a few weeks ago and since then it has taken the internet by storm. The Boyz have gigs lined up in Soeul in upcoming weeks.

The song, "Kickin It in Geumchon" is about the nearest town. It is not nearly as cool as the song makes it seem.

So please, follow the link to see the boy band craze that is sweeping South Korea.

Kickin it in Geumchon

men in uniform

2008-05-01T01:45:00.000-07:00

Once again it’s military week.
Soldiers of all shapes and sizes are wandering campus all clad in camouflage.

Day 1

On the first day of the week we had a fairly typical opening ceremony. The opening ceremony takes place in our concert hall. Most of the teachers and all 450 soldiers are in attendance. They sit, they listen, and they learn a few rules and regulations.

There were some slight modifications to the normal Monday game plan, owing to the fact that these were adults and members of the Korean military.

We started with the national anthem. Everyone stood up, saluted the flag, and felt a surge of patriotism.
This left me with a dilemma. What do you do when another countries National Anthem is played?
You can’t just stand there with your hands in your pockets. (Mostly because there are die hard patriots all around you that have been trained to kill with just two fingers.)
You can’t salute. (Just tacky, particularly when you are not military.)
You can’t really do the whole “hand over heart” thing. (For obvious reasons pertaining to pledges and allegiance.)
The only thing you really can do is stand there like a jackass and hope no one notices. (This is what I chose to do, and I did it well.)

Then there was a speech about the pride of being a soldier and the importance of learning English to make the Korean Military the strongest in the world.
A sediment I think we all can agree with.

Day 2

A no alcohol policy was set down.
The problem with a no alcohol policy is that the higher you are ranked, the less likely you are to pay attention to rules.
Something reasonable, like a curfew is easy to enforce. Even a 20 something teacher can tell the “boys” when it’s time to go home.

However, attempting to tell a 50 year-old Major, who does not speak your language, and could kick your booty without thinking twice, that they are not allowed to drink is a bit difficult.
And by difficult, I mean damn near impossible.

Needless to say, there was drinking.

I, however did not partake.
It might have been due to my brand new pledge to clean living.
Either that or that fact that I enjoy my job and am not willing to risk it for a few pints.
Does that mean that I’m growing up? Does it mean that I’m losing that devil may care, anarchist attitude?
What is happening to me?

Freaking age.
Freaking ageing.

Day 3 and 4

Little to report.
The soldiers are great.

We are making crepes in cooking.
They are delicious.

The drinking continues, though much more secretly due to a stronger ban on the booze.
The stronger ban came after several hung over soldiers missed classes in the morning.

Maybe Day 5 will be more interesting.

Good luck

2008-04-30T22:09:00.001-07:00

Tongue twister.
For adult audiences only.

Read the following lines out loud.
As loud as you dare.
As quickly as possible.

I’m not a pheasant plucker,
I’m a pheasant plucker’s son.
I’m only plucking pheasants
till the pheasant plucker comes.

Remember when...

2008-04-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

I once spoke at length about a music video filmed on campus by a very famous Korean singer.

Well, here it is.
Here is a video full of superhereos and dancing and flying and atrocious outfits, filmed entirely at English Village.
Check it out...

Just click here!

No Burn Cream Needed... Yet.

2008-04-03T00:37:00.001-07:00

I can cook!
After over six months working in the cooking department I have actually learned a thing or two about cooking.
I can make a quick Quesadilla.
My Scones are scrumptious.
I have perfected poutine. (Some strange Canadian dish made with French fries, Cheese, and homemade gravy.)
My nachos are neat-o.

Then there is the matter of my macaroons.

My recipe repertoire is small but growing steadily. Plus, since I cook the same damn thing several times a day there has been plenty of time for adjustments, accents, and advancements to each tasty treat.

On a side note, I am not sure how much more this alliterative anecdote-ing I can stand without breaking something.

We are currently making scones with crepes coming very soon.
There is a possibility of Mac and cheese, cinnamon rolls, potato pancakes, and pizza in by mid summer.

Let the good times cook.

2008-03-23T05:14:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter!
Tis the season where a giant furry bunny rides his sleigh (pulled by fluffy Easter puppies) and delivers chocolate and turkeys to all the good girls and boys.
He also brings lumps of Cadbury coal to the bad ones.

Personally I prefer the Cadbury eggs to the turkeys, and choose to live my life accordingly.

So, Happy Easter!

(The message is directed to everyone in this big world. But doubly, possibly triple-y, so for Granny, Kimmy, and Mommy!)

Dancing with the Stars

2008-03-21T22:27:00.000-07:00

Stupid missing camera.
Seriously.

I lost my camera this week. Somewhere on campus is my beautiful shiny under used camera. For the past few months that camera has lived in the pocket of my leather jacket. It has rarely been out for longer that the click of a button. It has barley seen the light of day.

For some god-awful reason I decided to take my camera from my leather and put it into my jeans. This deviation of the norm spelled serious disaster.
Within a few hours my camera was gone, and with it my hopes and dreams of showing you some of the more interesting sights of Korea.
(Namely a shot of me on my shiny motorcycle with the sun setting off in the distance.)

That camera has been with me for years.
And by years I mean, a good many months.

It has traveled the world by my side.
Now it is traveling the world by someone else’s side.

Or possibly hiding under someone else’s couch.

Regardless, it is no longer in my pocket. It is no longer there to document the messed up things that happen on this campus. And in this world.

They say a picture is worth 1000 words.

Lets see if I can paint one of those word pictures that would do the scene before me the justice it deserves.

I have mentioned before that my campus often plays host to a multitude of TV commercials, music videos, and movies.
For the past few days there has been a lot of activity. I went to work yesterday and saw a crane sitting smack in the middle of campus. Surrounding it was a variety of set-like pieces.
Fake bus stops.
Washable graffiti splattered on the walls.
Posters plastered with washable glue to simulate a city street.

And of course a handful of super heroes wandering around.

Normal morning.

I noticed many of the assorted super heroes and various crew members staring upward, so I followed suit and looked up.

Harnessed to wires and dangling from a crane was yet another superhero.
Flying around while to camera crew filmed.

Throughout the day, if you looked out the window at the right time you would see a woman fly by.

A side note on the flying woman. I described her as a super hero only because it was a logical assumption based on the flying and the assortment of Supermen, Spidermen, Mr. Incredables and gorillas wandering around below. I was not based on her appearance.

She was wearing blue jean colored tights with pink splashes.
She was wearing a tight blue jean miniskirt.
She was wearing a black and white long sleeved top with a white tank top over it.
She was wearing large hot pink earmuffs.

She was not wearing a cape. Though that would have totally made the outfit.

The next day I walk to work to find that the set pieces were still up.
The crewmembers were milling around lighting lights and swinging cameras.
The 15-foot inflatable super hero who has spiky black hair with a black cape was still up.

My students were going nuts attempting to see who the big names were. Which star was on campus. Luckily, the stars don’t come out until everything is set and ready to go.

Unfortunately at 4 o’clock, a mere hour before I was off for the day, the big name made his appearance. The music video was ready to shoot.

My students went a bit crazy. We were walking to their next classroom and had to pass the filming. It took wild horses to drag them away.
Wild horses and a great amount of prodding yelling and pinching from me.

After I dropped those evil little children to their class I found I had an hour off for prep time. And what better use of prep time could be found than ogling the stars.

So I did.

I sat on the stairs of our building with a perfect view of the atrocity about to unfold.

The dancing portion of the video was about to begin.

25 people all dressed as a variety of superheroes in a triangle formation began dancing.
Up at the point was our star.
Dressed in all black, except of course for the bright white sunglasses.
And the bright white huge sneakers.
Guitar in hand he began grinding. Leading the group of superhuman dancers in their superhuman dancing.

All with the 15 foot, inflatable, cape wearing, spiky hair having, superdude waving in the background.

It was beautiful.
Where the hell is my camera?

For the love of the Game

2008-03-05T21:09:00.001-08:00

Euchre* is a great game.

Last night I planned a Euchre tourney on campus.
We had 16 people playing in a heated battle of cards.

Obscenities were yelled with all the venom necessary to express a missed trick.
Or a misplaced Bauer.
Or that moment when the tides turn and the losing team takes back the game.

No doubt that emotions were running high. Friendships might have been ripped asunder, at least for an hour or two.

I held in. My partner and I were kicking ass through the first two rounds. Dominating the opposition.
Leaving them crying in their beer.

We made it to the finals. The pressure of every dollar bet (1 buck each) was resting heavy on our shoulders.
The game was tight. Points staying tied. Both teams inching their way to the 10 mark.

Then, something that will haunt me for the rest of my life, or at least another 5 minutes, occurred. We were all dealt a shitty hand.
Both teams, with 8 points each, held the worst collection of cards imaginable.

No one choose a suit. We played Screw the Dealer. My partner had to choose a suit based on a hand of 9’s and 10’s.
Needless to say that last hand was a tight one.
Also, needless to say, we lost. The prospect of 16 dollars fluttered out the window right along with our pride.

It was a tragic night.

I will be planning another for next month. And next time, oh next time, it will be my time to take the glory.

*Euchre is a card game popular in the mid-west. Oddly enough, much of the rest of the world have never heard of it. But they will, oh yes, they will…

Enjoyable

2008-02-21T18:48:00.001-08:00

This has been one hell of a week.
Full of fun.

And of course, by fun I mean suffering and sacrifice for the sake of development.

I have not taught all week. While others have teachered I have been sitting in the teacher workroom, working.

Sitting before my computer with any number of power point presentations open on my desktop.
Working.

Attempting to write lessons about the expression of ones opinion. And music.

Now I like music. Some music. Music that is decent.
Music that is not written by poppy premadonnas made famous by their dancing proficiency.

Between today and yesterday I have spent 5 hours staring at my computer screen with headphones stuck in my ears. Listening to terrible music. Watching atrocious music videos. Allowing my brain to slowly seep out my ears.

There is some really bad music out there.
Really bad.

Many times this week I found myself missing the old days. Back when music was good and lesson planning was not a full week activity.

Fear not, the whole week was not one of ouch-y pain. I spent time surfing the internet.
The entire thing I think.

I researched the possibility of grad school.
The conclusion was reached that I do indeed what to start on my masters. Soon. While I am here.
The problem resides in finding a school that will not charge several appendages and have their classes online.

I’ll find one if it takes me all afternoon. Or day.
Or possibly semester.

If you happen to know anything about this school thing please for the love of God tell me.

(By the way, I am looking for a masters in ESL. (ESL stands for English as a Second Language. This major also goes by several other names.)

Thanks for your assistance in advance.

Pretty city

2008-02-15T19:07:00.000-08:00

This image is of Shanghai. It was one heck of a city.

Wally

2008-02-15T19:05:00.000-08:00

This is just another view of the wall, but I believe it to be a much more artistic shot.

kinda big

2008-02-15T19:04:00.000-08:00

Ah, pictures.
Here is a picture of a wall.
A big wall.
A long, winding, mammoth, brick filled wall of epic proportions.

To put it in a different way, it was a damned big wall.

boom

2008-02-15T19:01:00.000-08:00

Ok, China.
Apparently the cursory summary of my trip was not enough for some of you.
You all are so demanding.

I suppose I could give you a few more details. If you insist.

Last week was the Chinese New Year. And surprisingly enough, China is not the only Asian country to celebrate such a delayed new years eve.

Korea is among the many that all but ignore the western tradition placed on January 1st. I had to work on New Years Eve and day this week.
Sadly dragging my way through the New Years haze.

However, we were given an entire week off for SeoulNal. (Korea’s name for this February celebration).

A full week off means something near and dear to my heart. A week off means vacation.
It means leaving the village, going somewhere new and different, escaping the mundane, and of course, not working for 7 beautiful days.

So yes, I scampered to China.

And there is something about China during this specific week that I had not expected. Something that I should have realized.
Some bit of knowledge that resided in the “History” section in my brain.

This tiny tidbit of information is, the Chinese invented fireworks.

Once again.
The Chinese invented fireworks.

This invented them, they love them, and they have a hell of a lot of them.

If you have ever been to the American south, you have seen fireworks.
You have seen the showers of sparks that fill the sky for several days surrounding the 4th of July. You might even think the Americans do fireworks better than the rest of the world.
That we do them right.

You would be wrong.
Very very wrong.

Never in my life have I seen the amount of fireworks I witnessed last week.
At times I thought I had skipped right over China and landed somewhere in Bosnia.

Every street corner was masked in a cloud of smoke.
Flashes of light sparked from every alleyway.
Bangs and bursts of sound rang out, echoing around the jungle of concrete and glass.

Ash rained with each gust of wind.
Possibly lead paint, it is China after.

Fireworks made up such an important part of the cities background noise that most, going about their business, didn’t notice when the flashes and bangs occurring mere meters away.

They didn’t seem to notice. They did not seem to hear it.

The Chinese invented fireworks. They put our tiny shows to shame.

Mmmm...

2008-02-14T10:11:00.001-08:00

This week I faced an issue that we all face on a fairly regular basis.
Something that strikes deep into our souls. An issue that makes or breaks the enjoyment of an evening activity.

Something that can turn cold a would-be exciting event.

A chilly toilet seat.

There is nothing worse that slipping into the bathroom, dropping your drawers, and freezing your fanny on a frigid piece of porcelain.

Luckily, I have found the prefect solution. Somewhere in Korea there is a toilet. A beautiful toilet that has, get this, a heated seat.

A heated throne.

A toilet that toasted my tushy.

A blazing backside.

A roasted rump.

My bum feels great.

China-ness

2008-02-11T03:06:00.000-08:00

This week has been a hectic one, full of interest and intrigue.
Airplanes and airports.
Temples and palaces.
Even a really big wall. One might even call that wall great.

China was a good time.
I stayed 3 days in Beijing and 3 more in Shanghai.
I saw the Forbidden City, which is much more inviting than I would have liked.
The Great Wall was freaking huge, curling around mountains and sneaking up cliffs.

Mongolians were attacking from the north. We defended China with our very lives.

Shanghai was beautiful. It was clean and shiny. Big buildings with interesting architecture.
And the shopping was amazing.
I have a new pair of Armani jeans (6 bucks)
A kick ass pocket watch (2 bucks)
A Prada bag (3 bucks)

Then there was the food.
Would actual Chinese food be as good as the yummy western version. Or would be all gross and foreign.
I am happy to report delicious-ness.
Chinese food in China is almost better than it’s American counterpart.

Hip hip!

All and all it was a good trip. Fun was had.

By the way...

2008-02-03T15:01:00.000-08:00

I am currently in China.

Weird, eh?

Proctor this!

2008-01-16T19:35:00.000-08:00

Guess what I am doing right now!

I am sitting in a quiet classroom filled with the short and young.
I am not dancing or cooking or painting or singing at the top of my lungs.

Today, I am not just a paid monkey hanging out by the white board.

I am actually proctoring a test.
A real test with real questions.
Write your name and class number at the top of the page.
Multiple choice, short answer.

Not only is it a real test but it is a test that I will get to grade. Like a real teacher.
With a red pen and everything.

It is the first time since last May that I have done something that rings of a real profession.

Today I am not a camp counselor.
Not a form of entertainment.
Not an all singing all dancing king of the kids.

Today, for one whole hour, I am a teacher again!

Excuses

2008-01-16T05:51:00.000-08:00

Once again I have been remiss in my posting.
There have been complaints and crying and begging.
Even a bit of pleading.

And don’t get me wrong, I have not completely ignored this thing. It has not entirely slipped my mind. I simply haven’t forgotten all about it and all of you.

More than once I have thought of something write-able. Something funny or interesting or just down right groovy.
But it always manages to slip my mind by the time I get back to the comfort of my big new apartment.

On many occasions in the past few weeks I have opened a trusty Word document, rested my fingers on the keyboard, and did absolutely nothing.
For some reason, when I am sitting at the computer, there has been a total writers block.

My mind has been free of any thoughts or blog-worthy events.

Not to say that I have been living a lame ass life. I have been doing many things. Most of which center around working and work associated events.
Then there is the traveling and the seeing of sites in different parts of the country.

It has snowed.
It has gotten really cold. Well, not Alaska cold. But pretty damn cold none-the less.
The holidays are long past.

And the pictures I promised to post are still on my mother’s camera somewhere in the South West region of the United States.
So, sorry about that.

On the upside, I will be heading to China in a few weeks for holiday.
I will be taking pictures, on my own camera, while there. Hopefully they will find their way here.

With that being said I am going to close up for the night. And with any luck I will be back tomorrow with actual stories to tell.
Cross your fingers!

Who me?

2007-12-27T20:48:00.001-08:00

Still not dead.
Still in Korea.

Still employed.

In fact, something crazy happened. I got a promotion.
For all my hard work I was given as a reward, more hard work.

Why is that always the case? Why can’t one be rewarded with a cake or a three-day weekend or even a puppy? Why is it always a load of more work and responsibility.

But, on the upside, I got a promotion.
Don’t laugh, but I am in charge of the cooking department.

Not only do they trust me in a kitchen with pointy knifes and hot stoves but they put my in charge of making those stoves stay hot and the knifes stay pointy.

Working toward this little step up has taken much of my time lately. So much so that I have barely had a free moment to do things like sleep, clean, or tell you about the interesting events of my recent past.

Like the fact that my mother and sister are wandering somewhere around Korea even as I type. They came over for the holidays and have been spending time touring and sightseeing while I slave away at work.

Family is evil.

Or the fact that the three of us wandered down to the southern tip of Korea, Busan, for a bit of a vacation. The weather was warmer, the beaches were pretty, and the fish were everywhere.

I am currently on a train back from that area. My sister and mother are next to me playing rummy. Mom is winning, I can see her cards.

In Busan I saw many interesting things, most of which are far more interesting with visual aids.
Which I have, in the form of pictures, that will be put up shortly.
I promise.

Still kickin

2007-12-05T00:45:00.001-08:00

I am not dead.
I have not been captured and held hostage by the North Koreans.
I have not run away to Fiji to live on a beach and sip Pina Coladas. (Damnit)

I have simply been suffering from a technological withdraw of sorts.

I once lived in a place far way from the world of technology. In the middle of nowhere.
Without a bit of pavement in sight.

Cell phone service near non-existent.

There was not a Best Buy for 500 miles.

However, I had a computer with wireless internet at my finger tips nearly every second of the day.
At work there was a computer everywhere I turned.
At home I could surf the net on the toilet.

Now I am in a place that has more internet connections than anywhere else in the world.
If you carry a PSP or come sort of video game device, you are one of the cool kids.

Cell phones can pick up television signals.

We use power point presentations in every class.

Yet, I am rarely in a place where I can use the internet. Where I can type stories to you.

Right now in my purse there are several stories I wrote about the things I have seen and done in this place. Chock full of alliteration and strange analogies.

In my purse. Already written.
Not here.

If you had my purse you would know that I have been keeping my promise to write twice a week.
You would also know that I read far too much, always carry a handful of almonds, and have more pens than you can count on three fingers.

Let it...

2007-11-20T09:58:00.001-08:00

Right now in Alaska it is cold, there is snow on the ground, the sun has made its last appearance for the season, and the temperature has dropped into the negatives.
If I were still there I would have, long ago, posted about the first snowfall. That post would have been some time in August.

Now, it is well into November and I am happy to report that we had our first snow.
Big white flakes of non-negatively temp-ed fun came falling from the sky.

The South Africans went nuts. Many of them had never seen snow before and impromptu snowball fights broke out across campus.

There was much frolicking.

It even stuck to the ground. About a half inch of fluffy white covering everything.

As I stood out in the nowhere near blizzard conditions I had a few moments of “homesickness” for Alaska.

I missed the real constant presence of snow. The big coats. The icebergs.
The more-than-crunchy/squeaky sound of below freezing footsteps.
Not to mention the actually cold ice…
I even missed the ice flakes forming on my eyelashes.

Then I remembered, it is the end of November and I am standing outside in a thin leather jacket and a pair of Birkenstock sandals during the first snowfall of the year.
I barely feel the cold and haven’t yet dug out my gloves. (Though it might happen soon for the sake of snowballs.)

Though Alaska will always hold a place in my heart I am quite glad to be somewhere less extreme.
At least as far as the weather goes.

The wiggles

2007-11-19T22:12:00.000-08:00

Last night I went to dinner with one of my more adventurous friends. We found a remote little crowded restaurant with fish tanks outside, low tables, and no chairs.

It is interesting to note that sitting on the floor is a unique and fun thing to do in a foreign country. It makes you feel part of the culture. Like a local.
A least for the first 30 minutes.

After that your feet fall asleep, your tushy starts to hurt, and you really want to lean back on something.
Plus, those little cushions are not nearly as thick as one would hope for.

Also, there was no one there with the slightest command for the English language.
The menu was only in Korean.

This is my kind of place.

There was no way to know what this restaurant served* or how to order what we wanted.

So we did the most logical thing we could think of, pointed to the fish tank indicating that we wanted something with squid in it and drew pictures of mussels.
Ordering has never been so easy.

The problem with our point and draw technique soon became apparent.

Our food was brought quickly.
Too quickly.
So quickly, in fact, you have to wonder how it was cooked.

It wasn’t.

Before us was a plate piled high of squid, tenicales and all.
Very fresh.
Perfectly raw.

So fresh in fact (if you know where this is going feel free to stop reading now) it was still moving.
Tiny tenicals twisting on my plate.

Suction cups attaching themselves to our chopsticks.
Fleshy parts wiggling with every prod and poke.

So yummy.
With hot sauce.

*Aside, of course, for the tanks of what would be dinner.

Bathroom Break

2007-11-12T05:44:00.000-08:00

Damn! Which way do I go?

It took seeing a urinal to figure it all out.

2007-11-12T05:36:00.000-08:00

I think I mentioned that my little campus is often used as a set for commercials and what not.

Usually they come in with a few cameras, lighting equiptment, costume changes, and the odd assortment of props. Ususally they don't take up too much space.
Usually.

On evening I ventured from my apartment to find something very odd.

Snow had covered the ground!
Christmas lights were hanging from every building!
Several Christmas trees littered the street!

This was all a little odd concidering that is was barely November and the tempature was hovering in the high 60's.

They were filming a Christmas commercial. They had rented out the village and filled it with fake snow and all sorts of holiday cheer.

This place is weird.

War Planes!

2007-11-12T05:31:00.001-08:00

I happened upon the Korean War Museum as I was walking through Seoul this weekend.

There wasn't enough time to check out the whole thing, but I saw a few planes and tanks and statues.
One day soon I will actually go through the whole thing. That day there will be many more pictures.

Traditional Korean Mask

2007-11-12T05:30:00.000-08:00

Creepy, huh?

Chip Chop

2007-11-04T07:13:00.001-08:00

Chopsticks are a novelty in the States.
They are something you use, with a sense of frustration, after ordering Chinese food.
Something of a necessity with Sushi.

But here in Korea they are a fact of life. They are a daily item. A constant reminder that I am in a land far away.

Forks are not of this world.

When you are served soup (and I do love my soup) it is accompanied by a set of chopsticks.
Sometimes a spoon.
But that’s only if you’re lucky.

Sometimes you are served long slippery noodles and tiny pieces of sauce-covered bits. With only chopsticks to assist you in tasting the tastes.

Plus, the sticks they use in this country are not the friendly wooden type like those I have used in the past.
Instead they are shiny and metal. Thin and slightly rectangular.
Not rectangular enough to be useful, but just enough to be detrimental.

In my two months here I have become quite efficient at wielding these twiggy utensils. I am able to transfer most foods to my mouth with little to no thought.
Dinner no longer takes near as much concentration.

As proud as I have become by my new-found talents I am still put to shame every time I see my students, and other children scattered around campus, eat. I have seen children as young as 4 holding miniature chopsticks, eating slippery bits of peach, with no concern.
They giggle as they munch.
And laugh heartily as they watch me attempt the same feats.

They think it’s funny as hell.

Puppies in peril

2007-10-28T23:45:00.001-07:00

You know how I love to talk about puppies.
I bring them up in the most inappropriate of times, insert them into serious conversations, even compare life changing issues to a puppy tumbling down a flight of steps.
Or being attacked by a pack of rabid bunnies.

Off handed remarks about puppy kicking brings tears of joy to my world.*

Imagine my surprise when I was surfing several news sites, checking out the world in a different hemisphere, when I found an entire article about puppies.

Cute little puppies stuck in a drainpipe.
Rescued by police or something. (I wasn’t really focusing on the details.)

Was it a slow news day?
I like puppies as much as the next guy but how could an article about 3 freaking, albeit terribly adorable, puppies in a drainpipe make national news?

I miss the days when news was actually news worthy.
When hard hitting, impact-ful things made the front page.
When the rescue of puppies was a heart-warming story that never made it past the neighborhood gazette.

Unless of course Michael Vick was the one doing the rescue…

*I would never actually kick a puppy. If I puppy was kicked in my presence I would, without a doubt, respond by kicking the kicker in the face. Or somewhere south of the face, depending on the gender of said puppy kicker.

Attack

2007-10-26T22:08:00.000-07:00

I have been quite remiss as of late in my duties of keeping you informed.
This is an odd world I have gotten myself into.

For the past two years I have lived in a state of virtual isolation. A fact I knew, but hadn’t really sunk in until I moved this small step closer to the real world.

I used to spend a lot of time at home. Sitting, typing, watching movies, etc. Living a life that is strangely suited to regular typing. Don’t get me wrong, I had a good time, and a great many adventures.

But I never thought about how much down time I really had.

Now I know.

But, I now vow to do better. My goal is to actually post at least twice a week, and I give you all permission to yell, scream, and send me nasty notes if I fail in this goal.
I will have deserved the worst you can do.

As a side note, I was attacked by a dozen small children this morning. They came at me, pencils drawn, thrusting notebooks into my face.
“What’s your name?” they screamed.
“What’s your favorite color?” they begged.
“Where are you from?” they stammered.

These small beings come as a school fieldtrip with the assignment of asking westerners a set of English questions and getting them to sign the answer in their notebooks.
It is a cute assignment when I have time to spare, when I am just wandering around campus without a real goal.

It is not, however, cute when I am running late for work.
When I am the only Weagook within eyesight.
When they block my only way out.

That was my situation this morning.

I thought abut dropping my shoulder and just pushing through the mess, but then realized that they all barely come up to my hip and that my shoulder would really not come into the equation.
Plus, I might step on one. And that might get me fired.

So I answered the questions.
I answered and answered and answered.

I escaped at the first sign of weakness, when they were collectively turning to the next page in their little books.

I ran as fast as I could while covering my face and hair with my coat.

I come in peace

2007-10-15T07:35:00.000-07:00

I am now a card carrying alien.

Thats right, sitting on my desk is my very own ARC.

That's "Alien Registration Card" to you non-aliens.

It certifies that I am not, infact, Korean. A fact that is hotly debated in some circles.
It also certifies that I am legally allowed in this country to work, travel, and drink soju.

It does not, however, come with a flying saucer or a life raft*.

*I made two different "alien" jokes all squished together there. Only one was the least bit funny. Though I am not entirely sure which.

And the "Nay's" have it!

2007-10-15T07:28:00.001-07:00

"Nay" means "yes" in Korean.

Do you have any idea how bloody annoying and confusing that can be?

Bloody Mary

2007-10-14T07:44:00.001-07:00

Here's an odd little thing of note.
My students hate it when I write their name in a red
marker.

Writing a name in red is similar to a death omen.

Oh Captain, My Captain

2007-10-08T20:40:00.000-07:00

I live in a strange place.
As I have mentioned before, my school is like a day camp. Each week 400+ 8th grade students wander through our castle gates to learn all they can about conversational English.
And of course, see some crazy weagooks.

This week is different.
This week our students are not pre-teens. They are of an entirely different rank and file.

It is military week.

About 4 times a year the Korean military sends some of their best and brightest to our school.

The soldiers exchange barracks for dorm rooms.
Automatic weaponry for English books.
And push-ups for Dance Party.

They, in all their camo-ed glory, are now walking around campus and taking classes.
Today I teach 40 soldiers how to make pancakes.
Later this afternoon we will sing karaoke,

Last night I taught 25 uniformed men and women, 9 of which were part of the special forces, how to do the Chicken Dance.

Imagine the absurdity.

Luckily, they loved the Chicken Dance.
And the Macarana.
And the Bunny Hop.

400+ soldiers. All here, learning conversational English.
Learning how to ask the time.
Learning how to talk about the weather.
And of course, learning how to ask for another beer.

It is an interesting place.

Don’t tell the North Koreans.

On the Air

2007-10-01T22:52:00.000-07:00

OK, I am back home. Vacation is over.
It’s back to work and grind stone type things.

So, let’s focus inward on the place that I live.

My campus is fairly unusual compared to the typical architecture of South Korea. It was modeled after some tiny village in England.

Due to our nifty nature we have attracted the attention of many people in the media industry. They come to our campus to film commercials, music videos, TV shows, and shoot magazine ads.

Korean pop stars and other assorted famous people are often on the streets, changing costumes in our buildings, filming various things.

This camera is one of many that I have seen in the past few weeks, filming the many this and that’s that occur on the campus of English Village.

They were filming a commercial for Chesuk (Korean thanksgiving).

MMMM...

2007-09-28T07:48:00.000-07:00

This is one of my favorite Korean foods. It is called Galbi and is beef cooked on a grill that sits on your table.
You cut the meat into tiny peices and wrap them in lettuce along with kimchi, radish, hot sauce, and chunks of garlic.

Sooooo goood!

Don't go chasing waterfalls...

2007-09-28T07:47:00.000-07:00

Dr. Fish

2007-09-28T07:41:00.000-07:00

These creepy little fish have a medical degree.
Or at least the closest thing a fish can get in Korea.

They live at spa's and eat dead skin cells off your body.

They have been used to treat leprosy and other various skin diseases.
Plus, they can easily take care of dirty cuticals and thick heels.

This was, quite possibly, the strangest thing I have ever felt.
There is nothing that compares to the feeling of tiny gilled carnivores eating your flesh.

I like big butts

2007-09-28T07:40:00.000-07:00

Still a beach.

2007-09-25T10:13:00.000-07:00

Hello all!
I am still in Jeju. It is an island paradice. There are palm trees and beaches and far too much Soju.

Today I was swimming in the Sea of Japan.
Or possibly the Yellow Sea. I am not entirely sure.

There were waves.
There were squid*.
There were ice cream stands with strange and unusual types of ice cream
(with weird chunks of green stuff on top).

I have a few days left here before I have to go back to work and the daily grind.
Wish me pina coladas.
And a completye lack of sharks.

* Still alive, in tanks. ready to be pulled out and eaten in creepy ways.

Where am I now?

2007-09-24T04:12:00.000-07:00

I had this plan.
It was a good plan.

I was going to write. It was a lengthy story, and is currently sitting half written on in a word document.
There are pictures and everything.

The problem is, that I am far far away from that word document.
And my computer.
And my little english village.

This week is Chesuk. It is basically the Korean Thanksgiving. Where they eat lots of food, visit their families, and most important of all have a few days off work.

With a week off of work I could not stay in my little corner of the world. Two South Africans, a guy from Tennesse, and myself hit the runway and touched down on Jeju island off the southern tip of South Korea.

There have, so far, been many things that are reportable*, but they all need the pictures I have taken to really make sense.

So you must once again wait for my stories.
And pictures.

And in the mean time you should think thoughts about me lounging on a beach.

* One of the stories includes and indoor amusment park with several kick-ass roller coasters. Another is about turning a family resturant into a dance club, keeping the place open several hours past closing, and singing "Living On a Prayer" with 6 Koreans who kept buying us more soju and beer.**

**I am never drinking again.***

***Again.

Party on Garth

2007-09-18T02:03:00.001-07:00

This weekend.

This weekend was a bit long and kinda crazy.

Plus, I drank.
A lot.
Of freaking Soju.

Again.

It all began Friday afternoon when I was invited out for Shabu Shabu.*
Some of my friends frequent the restaurant so often that instead of calling a taxi, they simply called the cook. He picked us up in his van.

By the time we finished dinner we had each had several shots of SoJu, several glasses of beer, and far too much food.
And we had been chastised by the other restaurant patrons for being too loud.

Saturday my group of blondes wandered out to Seoul for a little shopping.
I bought a new backpack, an umbrella, and some bright red nail polish.
I also had a homeless man poke my in the boob.
On the train back we sang and laughed.
And were chastised by the train riders for being too loud

The end of the night found me in a bar near campus where they serve a special kind of Soju lemonade.
Many of the bar patrons stared at the group of blondes in the corner. At one point we were hit on by a hand-full of Korean military men who barely spoke English.

Hours later, when we were paying our check and setting out for the night, a man came up to us, struggling with his words. He invited us to join his party.
A bachelor party.

They wanted the weagooks!

We partied down with the wedding party. The priest was in company.
We even ended up with a wedding invite.
Plus, we were chastised by other bar patrons for being too loud.

I think foreigners have a very different idea of what is loud than most of Korea.

*Shabu Shabu is a Korean meal that consists of three courses all of which are served in the same pot.
The first course comes as a pot filled with vegetables and a spicy broth boiling on a burner in the middle of your table. You are given a plate of thinly sliced raw beef to dip in the pot. Your beef cooks quickly and you eat it with the vegetables.
The second course has the same pot full of vegetables. This time they add raw noodles to be cooked and eaten like a soup.
For the third course they empty the pot and fill it with fried vegetable rice.
It is all served with quite a bit of beer and Soju.

The front gate

2007-09-13T06:16:00.001-07:00

And the monkey says...

2007-09-13T06:10:00.001-07:00

I live in a zoo.

My school is something of a weekly camp, children come for one week to practice their English with a bunch of foreigners. They are here, staying in dorms, for just one week.
Monday morning to Friday afternoon.

They are taught English through a variety of subjects ranging from Drama to Cooking.
Robotics to Movie making.

Some of us only teach those kids. We only have our hands in the weekly programs.
But there are other things in the mix on campus. Other teachers.
Other programs.

We also have day guests, people who pay to visit our little piece of the west for the afternoon. They come to see shows in English, visit western style restaurants, and of course, see a handful of waegooks.

I walk through the campus, going to the gym or the store. On my off time, wandering around the village, I am stared at by tiny children and grown adults.

The little ones wave and smile and ask, “How are you?” repeatedly though they don’t know the meaning of my answer.

Today I was stopped by three older women. They just wanted to talk for a few minutes in English. They asked the typical questions.
Like, “What’s your name?”
“Where are you from?”
“What’s your favorite Korean food?”
“Are you married?”

The usual.

They wanted to practice their English and talk to a blonde chick. It was odd, I was on my way to lunch, and then came the impromtu English lesson.
Followed by posing for pictures with each of them.

It was like being a movie star
Or the prize monkey at the county zoo.

Everywhere I look, at nearly all hours of the day I walk the village with eyes on my back, waving at the children, saying “hello” to lines of preschoolers, and attempting to hide from those wielding cameras on bad hair days.