Seoul Searching

Echoes from a novel I read last year

2010-03-10T13:22:00.000-08:00

Three excerpts from Kafka on the Shore, c. 2005 by Haruki Murakami:

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. The storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

* * *

"I'm sure you enjoyed living all alone with nature like that, but it's not easy to live there for a long time," Oshima says. He puts on sunglasses and fastens his seatbelt.
I sit down beside him and snap on my seatbelt.
"In theory it's not impossible to live like that, and of course there are people who do. But nature is actually kind of unnatural, in a way. And relaxation can actually be threatening. It takes experience and preparation to really live with those contradictions. So we're going back to the city for the time being. Back to civilization."

* * *

They walked through the pines, up over a breakwater, and down to the beach. The Inland Sea was calm. They sat down side by side on the sand, not speaking for a long time, watching the waves rise up like sheets being fluffed into the air and then, with a faint sound, break apart. Several small islands were visible offshore. Neither of them had been to the sea very often in their lives, and they feasted their eyes on the scene.
"Mr. Hoshino?" Nakata said, breaking the silence.
"What is it?"
"The sea is a really nice thing, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is. Makes you feel calm."
"Why is that?"
"Probably 'cause it's so big, with nothing on it," Hoshino said, pointing. "You wouldn't feel so calm if there was a 7-Eleven over there, or a Seiyu department store, would you? Or a pachinko place over there, or a Yoshikawa pawnshop? But as far as the eye can see there's nothing - which is pretty darn nice."

Life at Hwarang

2010-01-25T18:11:00.000-08:00

Halloween Scavenger hunt with 4-1 Sky class...

"Find something that can jump": Nicole!

"Find something scary": Emily!

"Find something that crawls": Triangle, Tim, Dean, Simon, Lorie
(For Pete's sake guys, all you had to do was find an ant!)

The curious creatures of 1 Sun: more bouncy-ball than human...

They may look delightful; do not be fooled.

It must have been funny hat day.

Painting cityscape murals with my grade 4's...

4-2 Sky class (of the 3 chatterbox Jenny's, dancing Tey, and Peter & Wendy-girl)

(4-4 Sky: my best class- a bunch of lovable weirdos)

English Winter Camp. Let the Mayhem begin...

Beijing Highlights

2009-12-29T19:11:00.000-08:00

September

2009-12-02T05:12:00.000-08:00

"Long and big stones": I couldn't have put it better myself.

Just before September and the start of classes, I return to the Han River near Hapjeong station, a few kilometers west of downtown Seoul. On my way from the subway exit to the jogging path, I come across the remains of an old military site, as well as the oldest "foreigner's missionary cemetery" in Seoul. I wander among the headstones, reading the English inscriptions of missionaries, doctors, and scholars from as far back as the late 18th century, most of which tell of their love for the land and its people. There are more than a few individuals from Vancouver and other Canadian cities buried here. I am humbled by the courage it must have taken to build one's life in such a time and place.

Some pretty incredible religious-themed murals on the exterior of the subway line.

Beyond the graveyard is the Catholic Martyrs Shrine, dedicated to the missionaries who died at the hands of the Korean dynasty of the mid 19th century. Center stage is given to the first ordained Korean catholic priest. For me, these statues speak of both the inspirational power and divisive nature of creeds, religious or otherwise. Sometimes, when I look inward and try to identify my own political commitments, answers begin bumbling around in my head like the 649 lotto. An "identity" is something we are all saddled with, at one point or another, if only because of our friends, but it has never been something I actively sought or even felt comfortable with. Like wearing the designer clothing you got from a well-meaning relative: you have to wear something, and you want to show your gratitude, but making a fashion statement was not at the top of your list of things to do. Granted, a political or religious identity usually has a greater personal and social impact than your choice of what to wear, and will, hopefully, be a more precise statement of the ideals you hope your character will reflect to the world. However, ethical/political/spiritual views seem endlessly fluid these days, at least where I come from, as well as being ceaselessly rebranded with each new generation. This makes my head spin and incites the desire to go live as a hermit somewhere nice, preferably by the sea.

On a side note, "Jeoldu" is the phonetic translation of the Korean word meaning execution or dismemberment and "san" is the word for mountain, thus "Jeoldusan" = Beheading Mountain. Fortunately for me, I had this all figured out before I even read the inscription. Why you ask? Well, sometimes when I displayed annoyance or disatisfaction to me grade fours, they would exclaim "jeoldu! jeoldu!" to one another followed by a charming throat slitting motion. This was, apparently, hilarious, due to the word's oblique resemblance to my name.

Often enough, when Koreans bring up the topic of their religion, they will say they they are either "Catholic" or "Christian", as if you are not allowed to be both at the same time.

The oldest Catholic cathedral, in Myeondong, downtown Seoul. I stopped for a look later that week, while waiting to meet my Korean language tutor.
The pictures below were taken on my way along the Han river, looking across to the south side of the city.

The shimery gold building is "63 building" (I'll let my readers guess why), which boast one of the highest man-made vantage points in Seoul, second only to Seoul Tower. I have yet to ride the "Sky-Art" elevator, and visit the aquarium and/or wax-museum at the base.

At the end of the first week of September, I and seven others throw a farewell dinner for Ty, just before he leaves Seoul for his hometown of Riverside, California. Our favorite galbi restaurant managers, Mr. Kim and his wife, as well as the local bar manager, are personally devastated to see him go: a testament to Ty's unstinting loyalty and friendship despite the insomnia-inducing split-shifts he worked at BCM's headquarters. Jared and I knew Ty as a galbi-gobbler, consummate food-blogger, music lover, and shameless photo-mugger. His cathartic obscenities, measured appraisals, and self-deprecating charm will be missed in the weeks and months ahead. So will his hair.

The following week, there are three new arrivals at Hwarang. Two are Canadians: Meagan, a 22 year old from Halifax, and Lindsay, a 29 year old from Nanaimo. Wayne, an American, also arrives after a short stint in Japan. Lindsay moves into the unoccupied and unmaintained apartment next door to me (despite our monthly $50 "maintenance" fee), followed by Meagan a week later, who is housed down the block. I acquaint them with the area, and help them move discarded furniture into their bare apartments. They must await the end of the swine flu quarantine period before starting their jobs. Both develop a healthy suspicion of BCM's business practices, due to the poor quality of their reception. Meagan has to fight for her flight money while Lindsay fumigates the bugs and waits for someone to fill the hole in her apartment. And by hole, I mean something that her cat, Grace, could crawl through.

The next weekend, I attend the wedding ceremony of our teaching coordinator, Lisa, along with most of the English staff from Hwarang. Since there is no seating left in the main hall, we are ushered to the floor below where we are served food at banquet tables and watch the choreographed proceedings televised live on a giant screen. There are scads of high-rises around Seoul just like this one, that rent exclusively to wedding parties, within which there are several ceremonies in progress at any given time. The same afternoon, I make an uncustomary decision to go bar-hopping with the heavy-weights (Alex, Anthony, Jamie, Patrick) and the new teachers. Several bars and many drinks later, I find myself in a place I never asked to be, making a decision that I that I never imagined I would make. Regret, humiliation, and mental self-flagellation are the order of the day. Who can I trust when I don't trust myself?

The following week, I purchase tickets for a trip to Beijing, for myself, Jeff, and Caitlin (both of whom work for an after-school hagwon called I-Bo-Young talking club). Imagine my consternation the next day when the principal informs us that swine flu is the school's primary concern, and that travel is henceforth unwarranted. Lisa is away on her honeymoon and BCM panders to Hwarang, changing their tune and telling me not to go abroad on the October long weekend because it would necessitate 7 days quarantine upon my return, in compliance with government regulations regarding teachers with risk of H1N1. It's made clear that unless I personally find a replacement and compensate them in full, my job could be in jeopardy. After I've jumped through all their hoops, Lisa returns to work (sans quarantine) and tells me that the principle still knows nothing of my plans. In the end, the quarantine restrictions will be relaxed and I'll be informed two days before my departure that the principal has made an exception for me and I am to return to work immediately after the thanksgiving weekend. To top it off, my passport will arrive the day before I leave for the airport.

During that waiting period, Jihyun and I spend a week together, trying to recoup lost time, reconcile desires, and hammer out plans for a future that keeps changing shape before our eyes. I celebrate my second birthday in Seoul with her, Jeff, Jared and the two new Cannucks- Meagan and Lindsay. After gorging on samgyapsal, we launch roman candles and pop-rockets from the roof of my apartment, then move on with our beers to the school yard down the street. The next day, Jihyun and I visit a luxurious, five-story gimgilbang, the pinnacle of Korean public relaxation. There are separate shower rooms for men and women which include baths, jets, and a full-body exfoliation service (The sign reads: "Korean buff"). Hobbit sized doors line the length of the spacious upper floors, each one concealing a themed sauna room: salt, jade, charcoal etc. The coldest room is a walk-in freezer, while hottest is designed to look and feel like the inside of a pottery kiln. The building includes wide-screen TVs, snack bars, gyms, electronic gaming rooms, and business rooms. When it gets late, you lie on a thin mat and take your pick of a hard cushion or wooden block with a groove. There are dozens of Korean families, friends, and couples, as well as the odd foreigner or two, sprawled all over the floor like so many white and orange-clad heat-stroke victims. It's surprisingly quiet for so many people in such a confined area: a room full of Koreans is considerably more subdued then a room full of Americans.

Jihyun and I watch a Korean movie with English subs at a DVDbang the following evening (the title escapes me); it comes highly recommended by her medical ethics professor and is one of the saddest movies I've ever seen. An immature, good-for-nothing, black-sheep-of-the-family guy, fresh out of jail for manslaughter, falls in love with a disabled woman. She, in turn, has been neglected by her brother and his wife, who are keeping her isolated and spending her government allowance on themselves. Despite the main character's aborted rape of her on their second encounter, she does everything she can to attract him. She craves the emotional and physical attention that society denies her, and he is astounded by her loving affection. He lives to please her while they keep their budding, platonic relationship a secret, but after they are discovered, he is accused of an impossible crime, and she is powerless to defend him. The actors were fantastic and the final scene of the movie is among the most wrenching I've ever seen. After the movie Jihyun explains why her ethics teacher recommended it- the physical needs of those with disabilities are not only ignored, but can often go completely unrecognized, as was the case with the female protagonist's sexual desire.

Construction of this brand new plaza in Gwanghwamun, downtown, was completed in late August. Among other things, it features coloured fountains, an underground museum, and a statue in honour of the famous Korean naval commander who successfully repelled attacks by the Japanese, as well as another statue of King Sejeong, famous for implementing the Hangul script. The fountains symbolize the sea, and the smaller turtle statue in front, his armada. Jihyun attended an evening English hagwon not far from here.

We break up a few days later. I don't know what else I can do. I am unsure about my feelings and my future plans. Jihyun is asking for certainties, and a chance to prepare for the future that follows graduation. Despite reassurances of her trust, all I have is my word, and it doesn't feel worth as much as it once did.

Adventures in Oz: Brisbane & the Australian Zoo

2009-10-25T05:55:00.000-07:00

Running Seoul

2009-10-16T22:38:00.000-07:00

I began running everyday, minus weekends, after my return from Beijing. I've been pushing myself to run further or faster on each occasion. In the past two weeks I've covered more kilometers than I have in the entire year preceding them; my current training schedule is arguably more intensive than it was during my peak days on the senior high cross-country team. My legs are crying out from the strain, but for the time being they continue to submit to my will, and I can feel my muscles adapting to the new status-quo.

Here's a rough approximation (thanks to Google maps) of the distances I ran since my return to Seoul: Oct. 6: 8 km; Oct. 7: 11 km; Oct. 8: 13 km; Oct. 9: 18 km; Oct 12: 18km; Oct 13: 10 km; Oct 14: 18km; Oct 15: 13 km

For those who know me, this will not come as a big surprise because I've always been a decent distance runner and I have the kind of body and metabolism that lends itself well to the sport. It runs in the family. My mother is a world-class swimmer for her age. My younger sister has been training for and competing in triathlons on a regular basis for years now. Even my dad can hike up a storm, despite his protruding middle (looks like he's tackling the bicycle too these days, judging by the pictures in my inbox). I may in fact be the laziest member of the Rhodes family, but I'm determined to regain some serious ground.

My ultimate goal is to run the Garden City Marathon next Spring, in my hometown of Victoria B.C. I've raced in the 10km event almost every year since grade 8, but completing the Marathon will be no small challenge. However, I would never do this if I didn't derive a measure of satisfaction and even pleasure from distance running- and for that I am thankful. It's the kind of activity which most people, even the relatively fit ones, would call a bore or a chore. For those who are out of shape, "torture" might be the first word that springs to mind. As for me, I find running to be elevating, rather than degrading. I can regulate my breathing and note the rhythms of my body with each stride. My senses gradually overwhelm me, creating a kind of cocoon for the riffraff of my mind- a safe haven for inarticulate regrets and desires to be released, and perhaps transmuted into something else entirely. It's exhilarating to discover just how far I can push my own body. To paraphrase an anonymous saying I read somewhere: "you find out that the person you thought you were is no match for the person you really are."

* * * * *

Other than two functioning legs and a comfortable pair of shoes, it also helps to have a nice place to run. I've found a beautiful one now, albeit a little late in the game; my co-worker, Jessica, has already been tearing up the same trail for several months now. The rubber exercise track starts just down the road from my subway station exit, and extends south for miles along the east bank of a tributary of the Han River. As I follow the track, river on my right, I pass others engaged in their favorite brand of recreation: walking, running, biking, rollerblading. The long patches of waist-high reeds on my left are broken up at intervals by large asphalt courts, for people who want to play basketball or badminton, or just goof around. Some evenings these courts are full of Korean woman's aerobics groups doing car-wash moves to something I can only describe as Korean polka music. There are also the occasional open-air pop concerts on the opposite side of the river, Korean ballads being belted out from loudspeakers. I'm still without an MP3 player, and the music does provide a good running beat.

As I run, the river widens and the highways withdraw to either side. The towering appartment blocks, so familiar to me now, rise in full view behind them, like the columns of a massive cathedral with the roof blown off. The sky finally has room to breathe above the river, and I glimpse Seoul's impressive norther mountain ranges, silhouetted in the distance. Fall is in full swing: the air is crisp; the leaves are beginning to change their colors; and the river is reflecting the light of the setting sun. Though dusk is approaching, there are fishermen aplenty still sitting on the bank with their lines dangling. Some of them have little brush fires going for warmth, and the smoke from them occasionally drifts across my path. I hear a cry of "you're so handsome!" from a couple of giggly teenage girls passing me on their bikes. Every few kilometers, a giant digital clock on a high pole looms up ahead for all to see, making my watch redundant. On my way, I run beneath half a dozen congested overpasses and train tracks. Night descends, and the cars' headlights streaming by on either side become rivers of their own. The arched bridge spanning the river ahead is illuminated with pulsating coloured lights along its entire length, a mesmerizing electronic rainbow.

I run a few more clicks before taking a brief stretch break and heading for home. The cool breeze by the river feels good against the heat of my body. I can hardly see the clouds of gnats along the path, so a few of them end their short life in the watery corners of my eyes. I'll worry about removing them when I get home. My quadriceps throb with a dull ache the entire way back, but I tell them to pick up the pace. Brightly lit Korean signs jump out at me from the tops of buildings- “Seoul milk” egging me on to the finish line. When I finally reach my subway station, I slow down to walk off any remaining cramps. At home I devour a bag of mini mandarin oranges (available for 2 or 3 dollars from the back of a truck on the roadside in my neighborhood) or cut up one of the giant yellow pears that our school provided each of the teachers as our thanksgiving bonus.

Adventures in Oz: Morten & Stradbroke Island

2009-08-25T02:50:00.000-07:00

Dog days of summer...

2009-08-24T22:06:00.000-07:00

Summer just isn't summer without:

Your pint of Cass...

Your green tea gelato ice cream...

Your selection of fine sushi...

A delicious, steaming bowl of...

....dog soup?!

A field trip to the local zoo with an army of squealing children in tow.

Summer Days

2009-08-03T07:33:00.000-07:00

Technically, summer began in late June, just after I recovered from my second attack of pneumonia. My girlfriend had left earlier the same week for her 5 week stay in the USA, hosted by the University of Maryland, in Baltimore, where she was visiting with 3 other Korean students from her nursing program. She had a wonderful time there, touring art museums, celebrating the 4th of July, going to baseball games, and visiting Philadelphia and New York, where she got to lounge on the beach and see the statue of Liberty. She even crossed the border to Canada briefly, to get the good view of Niagara falls (a landmark I haven't seen to this day).

Meanwhile, I recovered from a lingering cough just in time for the onset of the torrential downpour season. Some days the rain started well before dawn and just didn't stop. The rain would gush out of the sky as if through a giant sieve, and my valiant little $5 umbrella that I had purchased at the corner store was next to useless as I splashed my way to school in the mornings (at least I wasn't driving a scooter- Jared practically had to gargle his way to work and back). So I started to see the sense in the seemingly paranoid behaviour of Koreans totting giant umbrellas around, en mass, in weather that could hardly be called a drizzle. Koreans (at least the big city residents, which is most of them) live for the most part as if they would rather that "weather" didn't exist.
On a related note, I also made a purchase for the first time from one of those itinerant vendors who pace up and down the subways cars, hocking their wares; you name it- pipe cleaners, arm warmers, classic rock CD collections. I had promised myself long before that I would never buy anything from them, mostly because of the way they holler in your face on a packed, but otherwise respectfully quiet subway. However, I couldn't resist the guy selling the packaged ponchos - he was even taking a second hit to his dignity by sporting the ridiculous thing inside the subway, which I found oddly inspiring.

I finished administering exams and writing report cards for my 80 grade 4 and grade 1 students at the end of June, only to find out in July that the administration was just getting ready to up the ante with even more endless meetings to deliberate about the content of summer camp and tackle the ensuing prep-work. Originally, I was to prepare lessons for movie day, but when they decided to scrap Jared's cooking class, on account of potential "dangers", they did some brainstorming and shuffled around the teachers again, the upshot of which was that I was asked how I would feel about teaching Magic day.
So I said sure and leaped into the thing whole-hearted, determined to rekindle my passion for illusion and sleight of hand via Youtube and a deck of cards. I nailed enough tricks to keep the kiddies entertained and my afternoon magic class turned out to be something of a hit- the kids loved learning the secret and trying to replicate the illusions themselves. They were awed and slightly horrified by the antics of David Copperfield being sliced in two by a giant laser, and proceeding to bounce across the stage, his torso "holding" onto his bottom half. They also got a huge kick out of this priceless short video of a goofy David Blaine impersonator who has overestimated his magical prowess, to put it mildly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkjTeN6jGTk&feature=related

I started preparing my class of grade 3 students to perform a magic show for their parents at the end of the two week camp, which was last Friday. I soon realized that I would need to script and and film the performances of my students with my digital camera, which could then be projected on a screen above the stage for the children and their parents seated in the gym. Aside from the lousy audio and my shaky camera work, it went over reasonably well. Other highlights of the afternoon included a full length Musical ("Dream On"), an adorable girl/boy rendition of "Somewhere Out There" with awesome air guitar, a science of bubbles show, and a presentation of famous biographies (including a who's who of ancient Korean generals and royalty, along with an surprisingly eccentric selection of Western luminaries such as Mozart, Van gogh, Pascal, and some entomologist dude I'd never heard of before.
Camp days ran an hour longer than regular class days. We were even required to eat lunch with our students, as well as complete plenty of extra prep-work and evaluations to boot. On the bright side, the weather proved sunnier for most of the camp, and there were some good times, such as movie day (Coraline, a recent claymation movie based on Neil Gaiman's cheerfully creepy kid's book, was a hit), the field trip to the zoo at Children's Grand Park (Polar Bears!- 'nuff said), and the chance to witness my first solar eclipse with a bunch of equally amazed kids!

I'll have pictures to follow on the next blog, but for now I'm off to get some brief shut eye before heading off for my flight to Australia tomorrow morning, when my holidays start in earnest. I'll be sending my greetings from the Southern Hemisphere soon!

You know you are an ESL teacher in Korea when:

2009-07-15T07:58:00.000-07:00

10) Owning merely one hand-held electronic device qualifies you as a luddite.

9) Just about anything edible is rumored to be an excellent source of “stamina”.

8) Nobody's pet dog would stand a chance against your tabby cat back home.

7) You catch your students humming the cheesy (English) chorus of the most recent K-pop hit.

6) The trajectory of a sober pedestrian is almost as predictable as that of a drunk one.

5) You stop taking your “double-eyelids” for granted. (See: most wanted surgical procedure)

4) Every time you call in sick, your boss sends a reconnaissance agent to your appartment.

3) You walk into a “barber shop”, "cafe", or "karaoke parlor", only to discover they aren't in the hair-trimming/coffee/singing business.

2) You are no longer puzzled by trendy t-shirts featuring cryptic English slogans, such as: “Down with the King?” and “Choose Juicy”.

1) One decade after the release of Star Craft, elementary kids who don't otherwise understand a lick of English can still be heard at recess, shouting in spot-on American accents: “Your base is under attack!” (Var: “Your face is under attack!”)

Making changes

2009-07-08T10:22:00.000-07:00

It's about time I turned over a new leaf. I've recovered from the second attack of pneumonia and the interminable cough. I've started jogging around the neighborhood, as well as swimming two evenings a week at a local university—Samyuk, where cheap cafeteria dinners are an added bonus. I returned to CulCom last Saturday for Korean language lessons, for the first time in three months; Wonsuk, my new teacher, is quite fluent in English, and I'm planning to meet him during the week for extra practice. I might even take up Taekwondo, although that will probably have to wait until I get back from my trip to Australia next month. (I can't wait to see you Carla, and Bonita!) I also need to start reading before bed again; no more zoning out to epilepsy-inducing youtube videos (although it has been a source of considerable philosophical inspiration lately). Finally, as fate would have it, I've picked up an old hobby: magic. I was assigned to make the lesson for Magic Day for Hwarang elementary school's summer camp, two weeks from now. I should have just enough time to perfect a few simple tricks.

And another thing. I have to start writing, and not just more of the same. I'll continue to document snippets of my adventures in Seoul, but its about time I fulfilled the promise of this blog's title. Not that I want to burden my (few) readers with every little neurotic dialogue that crowds my mind— however, I do have a lot to say (some of which may somehow be of value to someone, somewhere) and I've been holding it in for too long.

There have been two things holding me back: one being my constant insecurity about puting my thoughts into words; ideas and feelings so often loose their luster on the page, and I despair when I fail to do them justice. The second thing holding me back is my insidious elitism—in this case, an unwillingness to identify myself with the proliferation of verbal diarrhea that is the blogosphere. To me, the web often seems to magnify the worst in humanity, revealing us for the small-minded, attention-seeking, fearful, and vain creatures that we are. What do we do with this miracle of high-speed communications technology and ever-expanding resource of information for which the word 'encyclopedic' no longer does justice? We often forget our dreams, and adopt an indolent and harmful philosophy of instant gratification; we corrupt the language and drown out meaningful conversation; we pervert the compelling ideal of an “online community” into a place where we await the next ego hit, perpetuate harmful cravings, reinforce a culture of consumption....

But this is, of course, only half the picture. There is still plenty of room for honest, authentic voices, seeking freedom from marginalization or alienation. The internet enables human miracles on a daily basis, and has made possible the kind of collaborative opportunities that no one previously envisioned. I believe the future is truly open-ended. We always have a choice, to be catalysts of the values we hope the rest of the world will one day adopt, online and off. Speaking for myself, any list of these values would include democratic conversation, freedom of expression, intellectual honesty, tolerance and understanding, and especially, faith in the power of the human imagination. Although I'm hardly the only one who values these ideas—they matter to many others (some of whom are my friends and family) in a way that goes beyond mere words. I view the internet as a kind of testing ground for the integration of these ideas into a quickly globalizing, technologically evolving world.

From Festival to Funeral

2009-06-02T06:38:00.000-07:00

Anyone keeping up with the international news these days should already know that the last couple of weeks have been a little rough for South Koreans. The well-liked, populist ex-president of South Korea killed himself by jumping off a cliff. He was under investigation for his involvement in some kind of financial scandal, and the attention apparently shamed him to the point of death. Strangely enough, his actions have made him more popular than ever, with some radical citizens even blaming his death on the current conservative leadership. Also the ex-president was the first and only South Korean leader to visit North Korea; the current government wants nothing to do with the North, including aid.
Which brings me to the second, and slightly more worrisome point. Immediately following the death, North Korea tested a second warhead and formally announced its withdrawal from the peace treaty they've upheld for several decades with South Korea. The wording of their public announcement was deliberately belligerent, not to mention ridiculous, to most people's ears. Most people are unafraid of any empty threats from the North, least of all South Koreans, who've been dealing with them for the past 50 years. But you never know when someone might do something completely crazy. Especially if they are crazy and in charge. Slim chance though.

These pictures are not actually from the funeral itself, but the three day lead up, to give an opportunity to the crowds of mourners bearing flowers or money (a traditional gift at weddings and funerals here) in honour of their late president.

I like some of the funky architecture around central Seoul...
So there's this Architect, right. And he's staring at his sheets of blank draft paper, trying to come up with a fresh idea to impress the city contractors, when his wife walks into the room with a cup of coffee. "Honey, your fly is undone," she says. He starts to zip up, then pauses abruptly, looking down at his zipper. "Eureka!" "You're telling me", she says.

Han River Park & Buramsan Trail

2009-06-01T04:38:00.000-07:00

The second weekend of May, Jihyun and I rode the subway to Banpo station and located the entrance to Han River Park. We spent the day wandering Westward along the boardwalk and exploring the attractions along the Southern bank of the river. I would run or cycle here every week, if only it was closer to my apartment.

There were some serious kite enthusiasts at the park. I was reminded of Clover Point back home.

According to the brochure, the "Moonlight Rainbow Fountain" is in the Guinness Book of World Records as the world's longest fountain, stretching the length of the kilometer + long bridge. We were there in the afternoon, so we didn't catch the evening light show, but we'll be back.

The sailboats were out in force.

There were teams of cyclists and in-line skaters racing up and down the river: a rare sight in the rest of Seoul, but common here. I felt as if I were in a different city. But no large cities are homogeneous in style and wealth, and Seoul is one of the world's largest cities; it would be foolish to form an idea of the entire place based only on the districts I've lived in.

Yet another Seoul Best Toilet (2002), with beautiful murals, calming instrumental music, and fresh scented and well stocked interior. I actually think recognition for excellence of public facilities in a city as populated as this one is a pretty good idea (and not nearly as goofy as it sounds). Now, if only there were more public trash cans! The government seems to have strange superstitions about trash cans and terrorists (you figure it out). Or maybe that's just their excuse for saving a few dollars.

That's the window of my third floor apartment in the red brick building above. The room directly below, on the second floor, is a shop: Darin's handmade pottery. They often leave the door open so visitors can wander in and out. They have some wonderful dishes and ornaments. I pass the place on the stairs every day, so I've visited a couple of times and met the ladies who own and run the place.

The entrance to Seoul National University of Technology (S.N.U.T.) Just a short walk North from where I live. Before the university, there is a hiking trail that starts where the mountains taper off, and climbs gradually along the ridge that circles Norther Seoul. It's great for jogging, and I followed it for 5 km to the North, where it joins Buram Mt. (the same mountain outside Sanggye, the district where I used to live). The first 3.5 kilometers offer a clear path and relatively easy climb, but the last kilometer or so quickly turns into a more gruelling ascent. I decided to go all the way to the top on my first try; the frequent sign posts kept beckoning me onward to more familiar territory.

An emergency helipad landing on the mountain, at dusk.

By the time I reached the top of the mountain, the sun had set, and it was getting dark. The view was well worth the effort, but I might have been stuck on the mountain, or had a really scary descent, had I not bumped into one of Sean's former students from BCM who recognized me in the dark! The two of them must have been the last people left on the mountain. They had flashlights and beer that they had carried up in their backpacks, both of which they offered to me on the way down. I bless my lucky stars and the hospitality of Korean citizens everywhere.

Friday was "Teacher's day" in Korea. (May also features Children's Day and Parent's Day) So all the teachers went to an an assembly where several classes of Hwarang students were gathered to give us a short speech and sing a bunch of songs in our honour. The words were Korean, and I'm not that fluent yet, so I no idea what they were saying. But the students came up and pinned a bouquet of carnations to each teacher's shirt at the end of the ceremony. Very cute. I just wish my students were as well behaved on every other day. Come to think of it, i don't think my last class of the day even knew it was a holiday. They were still a bunch of monkeys, as usual.

Relocated (Happy mother's day!)

2009-05-10T06:20:00.000-07:00

So, BCM finally pulls through, and I move into the new apartment on the last day of April. The new place is modest in size; however, it's light years ahead in class compared to my old place. The nearest subway station, Hwarangdae, is right down the road, and it's only a 15 minute walk from there to Hwarang elementary. My third floor apartment boasts large windows, an air-conditioner (an absolute necessity for the hot, hot summer days to come), a quiet side-loading washing machine that doesn't bounce up and down like a thing possessed, a non-claustrophobic layout, a bathroom with a sink, mirror, and cabinet, lights that don't flicker, crack-free tilling, and a key-pad combination lock on the front door. BCM moved the old dresser, TV, and wooden cabinet into the place, but provided me with a smaller fridge, bed, and desk/dinning table, which I am thankful for. Also, the neighborhood is quieter, the sidewalks are broader, and there is far more greenery everywhere. Even the cats are less skittish and healthier looking. There are a few restaurants and couple of middle schools just down the block, which is a great improvement over an alley of brothels and shouting neighbors.

Notice the "Jordan Ave." sign stuck on the hallway frame. (thanks Oma- the kids at school cant get enough of those stickers you sent me)

Notice the location of the washing machine: right beneath the stove, where you would expect to find the oven in most western homes. Ha!

The view from my third floor window.

On the left is Hwarangdae station exit 3, partially obscured by the row of small trees. On the right is the escalator entrance to Kim's Mart the underground grocery store and food court, which boasts Korean-style Indian and Chinese dishes, in addition to the usual fare. Just beyond the frame, to the immediate right, is Pizza School, a popular joint where 8-slice pizzas sell for $5 - $9. Needless to say, I've succumbed on several occasions. Right next door are WOW (a little pork cutlet place), and Cafe Tiamo, with its impressive selection of coffees and gellato ice cream.

En route to Hwarang elementary. I'm thankful for shaded walkways.

Below is the road that cuts through the heart of Seoul Woman's University, just past the turnoff to Hwarang elementary:
It was a holiday weekend when I finished breaking in the new apartment, and the sun was doing its thing, so on Sunday I ambled about the carefully groomed (and surprisingly western looking) university grounds with Jeff, taking a few snapshots along the way:

April showers

2009-05-04T20:43:00.000-07:00

On the first Friday of April, Jared and I decided to try our luck at the luxurious foreigners' casino near Coex mall, just south of the Han river running through central Seoul. It was Jared's first time at a casino, and my second time (the first time being in Canada). The place had motion-sensor escalators that moved only when you stepped on them, a free juice bar, and free pool tables (pocket ball! - rare in Korea, compared to all pervasive snooker tables). We had to show our passports at the door, to "prove" our foreigner status, as it is actually illeagal for Koreans to attend! Despite Jared's dictum that the house always wins (at least in the long run), we both came out on top after and hour or so of plunking coins into the slot machines, and wisely decided to call it a night early, and escape with our winnings. Final tally: me-$75; Jared-$30

I spent the the greater share of my winnings with Nick, Shannon, Kaitlin, and Jeff the same weekend. We went to Itaewon for dinner and drinks. There are more Caucasians and other foreigners walking the streets in Itaewon than anywhere else in Seoul, due to the presence of the American military and their families. Jeff knew I missed Rootbeer, so he showed me to only place he has ever seen it it all of Seoul: a middle-aged woman hocking cans of the precious stuff for $1.50 by the side of the street. I think I bought six. Then we ate a mouth watering dinner at a place called The All American Diner. They had fish & chips (halibut) burgers, ranch dressing: enough to satisfy the most demanding of western palates. (Koreans do all sorts of strange things to their fish, and their burgers are just not the same). We finished the night at Rocky Mountain Tavern, the token Canadian bar in Itaewon, with Hockey playing on all the screens all the time. It was a bittersweet evening, as we all knew that Nick and Shannon had already booked their tickets home to Halifax. They were planning to leave their job without warning, to escape one of the more monstrous employers that Korea had to offer.

Bunnies huddling in a basket on a street corner in Itaewon. Poor things. Happy Easter.

Quite the amazing contraption: A cotton candy maker on wheels!

Nick really enjoys a good roll

Above: The entrance of Seoul Woman's University. Below: two views of the teachers' office at Hwarang elementary school. That's my desk with the coffee mug and laminator.

On the banks of the river that runs through Uijeongbu, just a few minutes from Nick and Shanon's apartment.

The nine of us chilling by the river, enjoying the evening air.

Nick and Shannon wanted to go out with a bang at their local Noraebang.

Back in Nowon, recovering from my case of pneumonia, I went to a cafe with my girlfriend called Dr. Fish. Not just another funny name. It took me a while to suppress the giggling.

Seoul Best Toilet, 2003. Clean, nice art, classical music, fresh aroma: you can't go wrong.

March: new beginnings

2009-04-04T20:12:00.000-07:00

Let the new school year begin! This month, Jared and I started our new teaching job at Hwarang Elementary, while Ty returned to teach exclusively at BCM, with a new lineup of adult classes. We met our new staff members (6 Korean English teachers and 9 foreigners, including us) as well as the staff coordinator, Lisa. For the first week we administered speaking tests to every student from the grades we would be teaching. Each day after school, we sat in on interminable meetings with management (both Hwarang and BCM) to address school protocol, watch presentations by P.R. reps of the new text books, listen to BCM and Hwarang give subsequent criticisms and tell us what they wanted us to do with the text books instead, practice applying lesson plans in front of our co-teachers, watch a presentation on teaching philosophy, sit in on the classes of former teachers and fill out observation reports, write a test on school protocol... you get the picture.
Classes started the following week, and things settled into a state of normality. I have to be at the school every day from 8:00am - 4:00pm, though my classes always finish at either 2:oopm or 3:00pm each day. The remaining time is for planning and prep, as well as weekly meetings with our Korean co-teachers. Like at Kwangwoon, regular classes are divided into three groups of 10 students each, according to their ability: Sun (high) Star (middle) Sky (low). I teach two grades: grade 4 Sky and grade 1 Sun. I was fortunate enough to have a break this month: Though I'm teaching some unruly grade 4 students, the start of English classes is delayed for all the grade ones untill April, in order to give them a chance to warm up to the rest of their curriculum first.

After the second week of classes, Ty, Jared, and I met Nick and Shannon in the square down the road from Hyewa station, near CulCom. It turned out that every foreigner in Seoul had decided to visit the same spot, drink Guiness, wear green, and gripe about their jobs. Of course, the fact that it happened to be St. Patrick's day might have had something to do with it... In any case, it was a sight to behold. I was flabbergasted to see that many caucasions in one place. We toyed with the idea of starting an impromptu English teacher's union on the spot. And to paraphrase Jared's immortal words, "you are looking at the people responsible for the dissemination of the English language in this country."

Jared and Ty, with the massive tower of free Guiness on the left, mostly obscurred. Unlike most of his pictures, Ty couldn't help smilling.

An hour or so later...

They even had Koreans doing river-dance, or Celtic-hopscotch, as I like to call it.

A few snapshots of Hwarang Elementary:

Outside the front entrance. (For staff use only - students have to use the doors on the far right!)

Just inside the main lobby.

The entrance to the Hwarang English "Edu" Center located on the fourth floor of the building. All of the English staff's classrooms are located here. I was told by BCM I would have my own classroom, but it turns out that they were short a room, and Jessica and I were the unlucky ones. We were given the smallest room to share at opposite times. While one of us is using the "Shadow Live Zone", the other teaches downstairs in the students' homerooms.

Taerung subway station, line 7 . Returning from work. Strangely quiet. Usually these places are bustling. At rush hour, its an organized stampede.

There was a large diorama on display at Nowon station when I arrived one day after school. A bunch of professors and students were being photographed in the lobby outside, for one of the local newspapers. I inquired about the project and was told by a student representative that the government had commissioned the engineering students of S.N.U.T. (Seoul National University of Technology) to design a plan for a greener, pedestrian friendly space soon to be vacated by the pending demolition of an old train track running through Gongneug district. I pass by this University (and through this district) everyday on my way to work, just before arriving at Seoul Women's University and Hwarang. It was encouraging to see the support for the project, though whether the government adopts it as their game plan for 2010 is still in question. And on a completely irrelevant side note, S.N.U.T. is the funniest sounding acronym I've heard in a long time.

Another galbi joint successfully ransacked by a large group of hungry foreigners. Booya!

On the last weekend of March, Ty, Jared, and I went up to Uijeongbu to meet Sean and his girlfriend, whom we had not seen or heard from since he left BCM two months ago. It was encouraging to hear that he had successfully negotiated his new position for a satisfying after-school program in a public school just south of Seoul, despite leaving BCM on bad terms. Since Nick, Shannon, and Kaitlin also lived in the vicinity, they joined the party as well, inviting their friend Jeff, a Korean-American teaching English in Seoul. After galbi, they took us to one of their favorite haunts, a little place called Radio Clock.

February: a change of pace

2009-03-08T05:53:00.000-07:00

Upon my return from Japan, I signed a new contract with BCM, similar to the one they had made with Jared a couple of months earlier. The contract comes into effect in the beginning of March, at which point I am no longer required to teach adult classes at BCM, and instead start teaching full time at a new elementary school called Hwarang, for the duration of the full school year. So, assuming that there are no major surprises at the new job, I won't be home until February 2010! I also accepted a pay cut as part of the contract, and then discovered that BCM had been planning to send me to the new school all along. Kwangwoon had dropped their contract with BCM; they wanted to get rid of a (possibly unreliable) middle-man and hire their foreign English teachers directly. Also, because Sean had just left BCM for greener pastures, the management needed someone to fill in the gap, so they switched my February adult class schedule from evenings to early mornings (6:30am - 8:30, Mon - Fri). It wasn't altogether surprising, though it was still a shock to my system, at first. For the first two weeks of February, I had to catch the bus to Kwangwoon, immediately following my morning free talk classes. However, the elementary school year ended on February 18th. Which meant two weeks of "spring" break...

Dinner and drinks at Mr. Kim's place, with Ty and three of his former students from BCM. The young guy next to Ty is an Olympic level swimmer. I regret that I don't have pictures to show of my own adult classes at BCM, despite dinning out with them on several occasions. Many of them were lively and inquisitive, and I will miss the atmosphere of respect, casual conversation, and personal stories that characterized many of my adult classes.

There are hysterical English (not to mention Konglish!) signs all over Seoul. You just have to keep your eyes peeled. Maybe this clothing store really does cater to the new generation of Korean children whose health is being adversely affected by American fast food chains. However, I have to say that most Koreans fall way short of any description using the word "porky".

Here are a few pictures from the top of our local perch, in the first week of February. It was the most beautiful, clear view I've had from Buramsan since arriving in Seoul.

My final days at Kwangwoon; many goodbyes were in order:

The picture above is of the wall in Monica's homeroom on the third floor, where I'd keep my books and prepare for classes. I had wondered for some time about the mysterious presence of the little squiggle following the "I like English" motto, until my girlfriend starting sending me all sorts of text messages with little squiggles after the comments. Apparently, squiggles are universally used to imply elongation and intonation of the phrase in question. Thus, the more squiggles after a text message, the more enthusiastic/amused the tone of voice. They've got text messaging down to a science here.

Grade ones posing with my juggling balls: Rebeca , Lisa, Jane, Katie, Tom. Jane wanted to keep the ball as a parting gift, and she practically made me pry it out of her hand. So sad.

I'll miss you guys!

My grade fives were a really good natured bunch, even when they were misbehaving, so I rarely had to threaten them with serious consequences. I found joking around with them more effective most of the time anyway. I was also lucky to have a couple of the biggest brains in the school in my classes (both girls - no coincidence). I really hope my future students at Hwarang can measure up!

I dinned at a place called Crazy Pepper with Jihyun. You can see the menu and meal below. I requested spiciness level 2 (see below), which was none too cautious, as my eyes were watering for the duration of the meal.

On the first weekend after finishing teaching at Kwangwoon, Jihyun and I went to a place called Giocat in Hongdae district. It's a "cat cafe" with more than two dozen cats roaming and lounging freely about the place. You order your drink and you get to pet your furry feline friends. There were even small shelves bracketed at intervals against the back wall, so a cat could be snoozing right above you as you sip your coffee or slurp your smoothie at a table. Strangely enough, most Koreans don't like cats (they usually prefer dogs as pets) and some people even harbour superstitions about them. I've heard stories about people afraid of getting the evil eye from cats in the dark. Of the cats that I see on occasion in or around my alley, some look a little thin and make awful noises after dusk. There are many strays around Seoul, and Jared even told me of an encounter with one on the mountain! However, the cats at the cafe were well-fed, happy, and playful. Jihyun used to have a cat herself, but the last time she went to visit her parents in her home town, she discovered that her mom had given their pet away to a new owner!

Jihyun has been on my case for not reading the books fast enough that she borrows from the library for me. She would always finish her Korean edition of a recent English bestseller in a matter of days. Last time it was Girl With a Pearl Earring; this time it was A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hoseini. I did finally finish, and it was a fantastic novel. I'd enjoyed the Kite Runner a year earlier, and I found Hoseini's second book, about the friendship through hardship of two women who end up married to the same cruel man during the most unstable period of Afghanistan's political history, even harder hitting than his previous book, as well as an intensely beautiful depiction of people's attachments to their home and family. The picture below was taken by Jihyun, while she studied for her classes in my apartment, and I took the opportunity to catch up on my, um, reading...

There was a mustache party going down at Culcom the next weekend. Both Ty and I tried to grow our mustaches out for a few days, but my girl friend did not approve, so I had to shave mine. Luckily they had these great fake adhesive ones for a few bucks at the door. Ty however, still decided to sport the real thing...

There was even a best hair contest to cap off the night. People improvised and made eyebrows, goatees, ear fuzz, & chest hair:

The party was followed up with a late night dinner at a local restaurant, hosted by the manager. We got schmooze with a few of the band members and Culcom staff.

Midweek, Jihyun and I went to the Body Works exhibit that has been traveling the world for the last decade or so. It just happened to be in my neighborhood for the past few months and I'd never had the chance to see. It was something else. They even had a display of petrified fetuses at various stages of development. All those organs, tendons, bones, and veins really serve to remind one that we are fragile beings: temporary organic clusters of cells with a definite expiry date. I think I was more squeamish than Jihyun, a nurse in training who wants to work in the ICU with the fine people who do organ transplants.

Soup brewing, Korean style, in the window of a small but popular restaurant. Good dinner for a cold night. I have my own hotpot now. They're great for cooking up one or two servings and keeping the meal warm as long as necessary.

For the last weekend in February, Jihyun and I reserved a small pension house near some botanical gardens an hour or so north of Seoul. We arrived by train, and even though it was winter, with nary a living flower to be seen outside, there was a stark beauty about the place, and the relatively fresh air of the countryside was a godsend. We explored the grounds, serene in winter's chill, and returned after sundown to witness the winter light show, when the trees and shrubs are draped in lights of all colours...

The smallest church in Korea. Considerably more quaint and less imposing than the garish mega-churches with the pink neon crosses which you can find all over Seoul.

Jihyun, posing with some fake flowers. We may return one day to see the real ones in bloom.

An ancient Juniper tree in the background, at dusk.

Journey to Japan, Part 2: Monkey Business

2009-02-21T20:28:00.000-08:00

Monday morning in the 'hood.

I love the traditional triangular roof tiles.

Local graffiti. I wonder what it says.

Shannon, Nick, & Caitlin: Looking satisfied after their pancake breakfast.

Over 1000 monkeys await in the park beyond the bridge...

...and all manner of sea creatures dwell within the aquarium's walls

Ah, the sea! How I'd missed you.

Monkey bones.

We weren't told that we'd be risking life and limb.

Foraging?

Doing what monkeys do best.

"You stoke the furnace, kid. I'm not moving a muscle."

Feeding frenzy.

The young at play.

"Dude, you're hogging all the heat."

To the right of the fence is monkey only territory.

Feeding frenzy 2

Three primates leaving the park.

What a majestic creature.

I told him I was his biggest fan. He gave me his autograph too.

Beware of dolphins.
They'd rip you limb from limb if they had the chance.

What strange creatures. I feel as if I am an intruder on another planet.
(Possibly Arakis, from the Frank Herbert's Dune novels.)

What graceful, alien creatures. They changed their colour in sync.

Fukuoka's Yahoo! Dome

One more dream realized: I shook a cast of Billy Joel's hand.

Dinner anyone?

Monday night at Hard Rock. Finally, some quality "Western food."

"I'll be DD tonight, guys"

At the saki bar, still Monday night.
(Sorry soju, I've been cheating on you.)

The tradition here is to poor the saki until it overflows the brim.
Pretty good tradition, if you ask me.

Entering Canal City: an endless shopping complex with a canal running through its midst

Me and Pikachu: best buds

An entire store of Miyazaki products! The Totoro toilet seats were strangely fascinating.

We managed to avoid Beppu's Hello Kitty land, but not this store...

Timone and Pumba: Edward Scissorhands style.

Taking to the skies once more. So long Japan!

Journey to Japan, Part 1: The Seven Hells of Beppu

2009-01-31T19:01:00.000-08:00

On Friday night, after my evening classes at BCM, I met Nick and Shannon at their ridiculously spacious loft of an apartment in Uijeongbu, along with their friend Kaitlin. We ate a late night dinner at their favorite galbi restaurant, then stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, drinking, sharing work stories, and watching youtube videos, until we had to leave for the airport in Incheon. By the time the bus pulled up at the gate, a blizzard was underway, and we were relived to be leaving the stinging sub-zero temperatures of Seoul behind for the "sub-tropical" climes of Beppu. Little did we know, we would shortly be braving life and limb (and bank accounts) as we faced sulfurous pits full of scalding water, boiling geysers, giant reptiles, icy cliffs, a scourge of killer monkeys, man-eating dolphins, and dastardly foreign exchange rates.

View from the plane window, prior to liftoff : the rising sun on the snow blanketed runway.

Snow-flecked peaks of Japan, as seen on the drive from Fukuoka to Beppu

Statue commemorating Beppu's "father of tourism."

Apparently, he liked to fling babies around on his coattails.

Our hostel: not just any hostel, but a "Spa Hostel", featuring our own private onsen, or bathing facility supplied by natural subterranian spring water.

The hotspring gremlin, mascot of Beppu's "Seven Hells". I forgot to pick one up at the gift shop on the way out. My one and only regret.

Me, Nick, Shannon, & Kaitlin take our first dip. Hot-diggity-dog.

Tired, but eager to see the sights, we ventured into the first one of the seven "Jigokus" or Hells that Saturday evening. We weren't dissapointed. Exotic colours and sulpherous smells... ahhh!

Night view from Beppu Tower, downtown core.
The city is far larger than my camera permits.

Nick & Shannon brave another gate of hell...

Devilish brew

Notice the gremlin waterspout in the background

Little shrines are a common sight everywhere you go.

What a friendly sign!

Chillin' in the foot bath.

Aarrgh! The bog of eternal stench.

Your worst nightmare!

Feelin' hot, hot, hot!

Wait, did you say something about crocodiles?

Hey Mr. hell spawn! Yeah, I'm talking to you.

Hey guys? Can you pull me up now? They're looking peckish...

There was a sex museum opposite the entrance to Oniyama Hell hotspring, boasting an eclectic mix of classical erotica to not-so-classy exhibits. Fitting location. We couldn't resist a peak.

These compact vehicles and mini-mini-vans were everywhere.

After descending into Hell, we took to the heavens via Gondolla...

...and discovered a snowy paradise.

Onsen time! This one was outdoors, with a view of the entire bay, and featured several pools of varying temperatures. The hot water and cool air provided the ultimate in relaxation-sensation!

Journey to Japan: Prelude

2009-01-28T09:50:00.000-08:00

Two weeks earlier...

What a reprieve! I finally got some much needed r&r. BCM didn't schedule me for any extra classes after I finished teaching at the children's winter camp. So, aside from my evening classes, I had the rest of January to spend as I pleased. For my first week off, I slept in until noon, watched movies on my laptop (Quantum of Solace, Slumdog Millionaire & more) read a novel (The Girl with a Pearl Earring), chatted to friends online, and studied Korean.

The first Thursday off work, I went out with Jihyun and an old hometown friend of hers, named Yugiong, who is in Seoul temporarily, taking a teaching course. We had a grease-drenched meal at Bennigan's (the western-style food here leaves a little something to be desired). Yugiong joked to us about her early curfew (yes, you can still have a curfew at the age of 22 in this country), advised me on the romantic needs of Korean women (apparently, you can never send enough text messages), asked me to assess her understanding of common English expletives, and addressed my confusion over the Korean educational system (they have an unfamiliar "three tier" setup here). I'd recently received a call from Yung-Jin, the manager of CulCom, inviting me to one of their monthly events, this time at his cafe in Sincheon. Yugiong helped me convince Jihyun to go to the party, despite her initial reluctance. Good friend indeed!

Hometown friends: Yugiong & Jihyun

Preparations underway for an ice sculpture festival in Hyehwa

Saturday night at the party, I met some fellow Canadians: Nick, Shannon, and Kaitlin--my future travel companions. All three are first-time English teachers (and long-time friends) from Halifax, who had been working for the past five months in the city of Uijeongbu, bordering Seoul on the North. Nick and Shannon had been hired to teach young children, from dawn to dusk, for a private Hagwon called Edubox, after obtaining their degrees in Canada. They'd faced their share of difficulties here, similar to the ones I'd encountered since arriving in Seoul. However, they were in good spirits; they'd just booked their plane tickets to Japan the night before, in preparation for a four day trip, to take advantage of the upcoming national holiday: lunar new year. I was feeling restless, because Jihyun was heading south to see her family for the week, Jared had just returned from his trip to Jeju island the week before, and Sean was leaving the rest of us at BCM for the promise of a new job, on the other side of Seoul. The Nova Scotianers must have noticed the glint in my eye when I said I'd love to join them for the ride. They told me they were game if I was: all I needed was a reentry visa for Korea and a plane ticket.

Shannon, Nick, Kaitlin, & yours truly

I decided to sleep on it. Jihyun had won a pair of tickets for an ice skating event through her cell plan provider, SK Telecom, and invited me as her guest. The ice rink was outdoors, behind a five star hotel, overlooking the Han river. The whole place was surrounded with painted murals, and coloured lights. The tickets for the event included free lunch, dinner, and desert, not to mention electric foot massages! Being the more experienced skater, I gave Jihyun some tips and dragged her in circles around the rink. I started racing around the rink on my own, and immediately bailed when two 9 year old girls crossed my path in different directions at the same time. Jihyun told me that her friend from her dorm had just been skating the day before, when her date crash-landed on the ice and broke his arm. Since their encounter in the hospital ward on the following day, they'd become an item. Go figure.

Jihyun helped me find the immigration office and left the rest to me, but told me that she was also trying to score a free stay in Japan, come next August. The students who make the grade on a national English equivalency test get invitations to stay in Japan or the USA for two weeks to visit 'sister universities' scouting for foreign applicants, and sit in on classes. Free room and board is provided for the duration of the stay.
As for me, I've been considering staying in Korea a few months longer than planned, on the condition that I get a better deal if I renew my contract with BCM. Either way, I decided that I might not get another chance to travel before August, and that I needed this escape for my mental health, to hell with the cost. So, on Wednesday, after a one and a half hour wait at the crowded immigration office, I finally reached the application officer. I'd applied for the multiple reentry permit, rather than the single one, and asked the officer if this would allow me to leave the country as many times as I wanted. He replied in perfect English with a barely concealed smile: "Well, if you have lots of money, you can visit many places. If you are a poor man, you have to stay here." He stamped my passport and returned it to me with my alien registration card. "You're free man now."

Winter Camp, Soccer, Jazz, & Raw Fish

2009-01-12T21:39:00.000-08:00

January 9th: last day of my two week stint teaching English at Deokam Elementary winter camp. I taught a group of 19 students from grades 3, 4, and 5, most of whom attend different schools during the year. My group had the lowest level of English proficiency (out of the three classes at winter camp), so my Korean co-teacher, Jennifer, and I sometimes had to simplify the lesson material provided in the course manual. Despite their shyness, the children staged a performance for their parents on the last day of camp: each student presented a holiday of the year, and described how people celebrate it. The other classes also sang or performed skits.

One lesson involved making PB&J sandwiches, following the recipe in English.

Another involved rudimentary geometry activities in English - using Tangrams!

My favorite time: Story time! (The books my co-teacher provided were priceless.)

Above left: Maggie, another new English teacher and CulCom student, from Chicago.
Above right: Lana, Maggie's teacher on Saturday and now one of my two new teachers, ever since I decided to swap my Thursday evening class time for more accessible Saturday afternoon. Plus, my old teacher, Bohyeon, is now working full time, 7 days a week, at two jobs. Busy guy!
Bottom center: A brief visitor from Kentucky on a whirlwind tour through Southeast Asia and beyond. He got lost trying to find his residence for the weekend in Seoul.
Bottom left: another friendly CulCom member, who rescued said visitor off the street and offered his guidance for a couple of days.

James and I visited the World Cup Soccer Stadium and the adjoining soccer history museum, along with his friend. I managed to communicate with her in a halting fashion, with Jame's help, since her English was at about the same level as my Korean. In the evening, we had pig's feet for dinner with Monty, another old friend of James'. I was a little wary at first, but the meat was so tender and tasted surprisingly like turkey! James' family just arrived from Newzealand, to pay him a visit in Seoul, before the lot of them fly back to their new home in Sidney, Australia, in a week or so. For several years now, James has been a traveling agent on behalf of language institutes in Newzealand and Australia, that cater to Korean students studying abroad, as well as potential immigrants.

Jihyun and I had dinner at a classy little Spanish restaurant in Hongdae, a district whose University is well known for its art and design programs. The place is littered with trendy bars and ethnic food restaurants, as well as some live music venues, though they can be hard to find! I I noticed how Jihyun's ginkgo leaf-coloured overcoat matched the rice dish and sangria.

We stumbled upon a live Jazz club, after being turned away from the crowded Giocat or "cat cafe" (more on that later). The young musicians were superb: their timing faultless and their improvisation impressive. I reveled in all the jazz standards and classic love songs: the same ones that Mr. Woods, my old piano teacher, used to teach me. It was my first time seeing a good live music performance since arriving in Seoul, and I hope it won't be my last!

The whole gang again, eating out at a raw seafood restaurant, to celebrate Jared's birthday, as well as Cia's, Sean's girldriend. Jared just returned the night before from an enviable trip to the more temperate Jeju island, south of the Korean peninsula: the first place we originally applied to work as english teachers. You can follow the link to his blog to see plenty of cool pictures from the Jared and Cholong's trip! (Jared has January off work, as stipulated in the new contract he signed with our employer at BCM.)

See those red tentacles on the lower right of the appetizer plate? They still wiggled!! Eew!

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

2009-01-09T20:11:00.000-08:00

Christmas is past, and we're already forging ahead into the new year. A belated happy holidays to all those reading my blog! I hope everyone had a wonderful time celebrating the season together. It was great to receive so many cards, emails, and gifts from family and friends: thankyou Mom, Dad, Carla, Oma, Grandma, Heather, Marcia, Bonita, Lisa-- and anyone else I forgot to mention! It was a blast to finaly see and talk with the family on Skype, on Christmas eve. Don't be strangers, you guys. I'll try to write back or call you, individually, when I have a chance.

The good news is that, over here, in Seoul, though we all miss our families something fierce, no one is spending the holidays alone: we made sure to celebrate in style, with our coteachers, girlfriends, and honored guests. Not to mention plenty of good food. Though turkey is scarce in these parts, the duck at Mr. Kim's place was melt-in-your mouth delicious. The bad news is that new foreign English teachers working for private hagwons usually don't stand to get much in the way of time off. The term ended at Kwangwoon the day after Christmas, and Sean and I were sent to teach winter camp classes at a new school, starting the following Monday. It did turn out to be a relatively rewarding job however, as we got to work with the same group of students day in and day out, with the help of a Korean coteacher, getting to know them and observing their progress in a way we couldn't always manage at Kwangwoon.

Me and my girl at Christmas dinner
One month and going strong

Cholong, Jared, Jihyun, Me, Ty, Baskin Robins Icecream cake

Sia, Sean, Ty: Christmas dinner at Mr. Kim's restauraunt

The sunday night between Christmas and New Years was Julie's last night in Seoul before heading back to teach kids in Honduras. It turns out we share at least one idiosyncrasy: we both enjoy reading to people, and having other people read to us.

It was also Amanda's first night of her brief visit to Seoul. She's a friend of Sean's, currently teaching English in Busan, and pictured below abusing my new scarf with Ty's help. Furthermore, Sean and I were to start teaching at a winter camp the next day, at Dokam elementary school: our new morning job for the next two weeks. We said our hellos and farewells at a local bar.
Jihyun and I on our way back from celebrating New Years with Jared and Cholong, at Ashley's, an American buffet. I gorged myself silly, but try as I might, I couldn't keep up with the human vaccum cleaner that was Jared. The final tally: 6 1/2 plates of food consumed to a meager 4 1/2 plates on my part. Instead of splitting a cab ride home, we decided to walk off our dinner in the bitter cold for a good half hour. My new scarf, Jihyun's Christmas gift to me, was more than long enough to warm two necks at once.

I conquered Buramsan (Buram Mountain), for a second time with Jared, on January 3rd. My "New Years resolution hike". The trail up the mountain is only a 10 minute walk away from my apartment. The mountain itself is a pretty humble height, compared to Seoul's other peaks, although the steep climb still gets the heart pumping. More views of the mountain ridge below.

My 5-1 C (blue) class, wishing you all happy holidays!

City Lights and Palace Sights

2008-12-21T08:08:00.000-08:00

Beneath the small bridge at the tail end of the Cheonggyechon: a man-made stream, cutting right through the the center of downtown Seoul. It was built several years ago as a public attraction and an environmental barrier.

Since we didn't get much snow here, so we had to settle for artificial snowflakes.
They were pretty cool, however.

Snow storm!

Laser light show near the end of the Cheonggyechon

"Takgalbi", or spicy grilled chicken. (tak = chicken, galbi = meat)
Possibly my favorite dish in Seoul so far!

Sunday night in Myeongdong, downtown Seoul. I've eaten out here several times now, but the lineups at the most popular restaurants are always daunting.

Just outside the National Folk Museum is a small circle of twelve animal statues, each one representing one year in the cycle of the Chinese zodiac. El (Ji-hyun) is 22 years old, by the Korean calender (they start counting from 1 at birth, not 0 as we do). So she was born in the year of the rabbit.
As for me, I'm 25 years old, "international age" (my Korean age would be 26), and born in 1983, so my zodiac year is the pig. I was taught by students from James' discussion group that a difference of four years on the Zodiac calendar between two people means a very compatible romantic match. (i.e. Pig and Rabbit)

These funny faces (inscribed with Chinese words below) were erected by ancient villagers, as sentinels or guardians against marauding ghosts and evil spirits. They were supposed to prevent disease, protect the harvest and so on. I sure wish I could scare germs and bacteria away by making funny faces at them...

Sunset over Gyeongbokgung ("gung" = palace)

Chimneys on the terraced gardens of Gyeongbokgung. Underground flues were used to heat the floors of the various buildings on the palace grounds.

A few gargoyles are perched on the roof, enjoying the view and waiting for the sun to set, so they can start their nightly rounds, protecting the buildings and those living within from harm. The most important buildings on the palace grounds always boasted the most gargoyles.

Traditionally, there is a designated mythical animal guardian for each point on the compass, keeping watch over the land, in their respective directions. Above, my favorite: the dragon.

There was a table inside the first palace courtyard where you could don the the traditional regalia of the palace guards. El suggested we play dress-up while waiting for our English-speaking tour guide.

This picture (and the three below) were taken in front of the King's banquet hall. On special occasions, much eating, drinking, and rabble-rousing would ensue.

Above and below: the royal throne room at Gyeongbokgung. The mountains in the mural behind the throne represent the five elements: fire, water, earth, wood, and wind.

The main entrance to Gyeongbokgung, complete with palace guards.

Tye and Julie joined me and El on our Sunday outing to Gyeongbokgung royal palace.
Julie is an old friend of Tye's and currently a teacher in Honduras. She came to pay a visit the weak before Christmas.

"bibimbap" or mixed rice, (bap = rice, bibim = mixed)
A common, though tasty mixture of rice, cooked vegetables, and hot sauce.

James and I in front of one of the many enormous Christmas light displays at a downtown mall. He helped me find a new headset at Yongsan electronics market, so I can now talk to everybody back home on the computer, via Skype, without my old microphone cutting out. Yipee!

The sprawling Namdeamun market. You can find everything imaginable here: clothing, food, jewelery, toys, seasonal decor, household gadgets.... you name it. There is even an underground arcade, where you can by imported alcohol, linens and more (no taxes if you pay in cash). This was a "quiet" Sunday night. On busy days, it's easy to lose yourself in the mobs and the mountains of identical looking merchandise that extend down the length of a half dozen intersecting allies.

The more lights, the more shoppers. At least that looks like the common wisdom:

Winter's cold is here. Give thanks for heated floors!

2008-12-17T23:37:00.000-08:00

BCM staff Christmas dinner

White Christmas? Nope, it didn't stick.

Say hello to my little friends:

From Right to left: James, Henry, Cindy, Me, Sophia. A small party between several members of two English study groups. We had drinks at a cocktail bar in Hyehwa, called The Flair.

Later the same evening, playing Hello Kitty Jenga at a "game cafe". You get a coffee, pick out a game or two, and away you go. They even stocked most of the games I'd sold at Seeing is Believing last year! It's a testament to her multitasking ability that Sophia managed to pull that piece out without the tower toppling, while talking to her friend on the cell phone.

One of the bartenders doing her nightly cocktail routine at The Flair. It got good when they started lighting the bar on fire....

James, Henry, and I had "budejige" for dinner, or military soup.

These guys were busy at an outdoor stall in Insadong, making a traditional desert that used to be made specifically for the king. The crunchy center is wrapped in gooey threads, so fine that there are literally thousands of folds holding a single piece together. The guy doing the actually threading (for lack of a better word) would call out the number of folds as he separated the dough: first in Korean, then in English (for my sake.) I had to buy a package of course!

El (Baek Ji-hyun), in Insadong. I taught her the expression, "when pigs fly."

Still in Insadong: I got a free hug from that guy. Made my day. Also, notice the group of Koreans clustered around the white woman on the right. They were ogling her little white baby, with saucer plate eyes, in the stroller. Even the clown gave up his shtick to join them. Ha!

There was small procession passing through Insadong around lunchtime. The paraders were dressed in traditional clothing, depicting scenes that were common in the area, once upon a time.

Mindelleyonto, or Minto, for short. There's a large chain of these popular tea houses around Seoul. I visited this one with El. The first floor is a spacious lounge, for people to relax or study. Underground, however, are extra comfy booths, reserved for couples only, facing a movie screen at the front. Like a cross between some VIP lounge and a drive-in movie theater. They have an incredibly diverse drink menu. You simply use a punch card to order your tea, and pay at the end of your stay.

You...shall not...Cass! (thank you, Jared)

Kwangwoon elementary schoolyard.

Accident in the intersection just outside Kwangwoon. I think I've seen about three here already!

I went with my girlfriend to-be on a date to Namsan, or Seoul Tower, which boasts the best view of the city from downtown. El (Ji-hyun) is pictured here in front of a giant stack of luminescent teddy bears, at the base of the tower. I forgot my camera and my phone battery died, so we took a few grainy pictures with her cell phone. I'm sorry I couldn't get any pictures of the incredible view of the city at night! Next time...

To celebrate the end of exams, the Kwangwoon English staff was treated to a delicious, Parisian-style buffet dinner in Ibis, a hotel in Myeondong, (downtown Seoul), after which we were invited for a late evening of wine-tasting at Mrs. Jong's house, the grade 5 teacher. Her home is on a hillside in the center of town, with a staggering view of the city from her back yard, and her husband is a documentary film maker who frequently travels to exotic locations all over the world to make his movies. Fun night!

Colours of Autumn

2008-11-15T23:26:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday (November 8th), the teachers of Kwangwoon elementary school embarked on a solidarity hike with students (grades 1 through 6) and their parents. The weather was perfect for the occasion, and the trees on the mountain were clothed in every shade of fall.

The hike was held at Bukahn mountain, which I'd visited last on my birthday. This time we took an easier route to the top. The teachers hiked ahead: before the children were admitted through the fortress gates, they had to answer at least two questions in English, from their respective teachers. The questions ranged in difficulty from "Am I a girl?" (glad that all my grade ones got that one right) to "Do giraffes sleep standing up?" If they couldn't answer, we asked another one from the list.

The vice-principle led the teachers down the mountain by a more scenic route. We stopped at an outdoor restaurant on the way down. The party of Koreans eating at the picnic table next to us came over to say hi. One of them gestured at me, indicating that I should try dipping the tofu in my traditional Korean alcoholic rice beverage (served in bowls). Common sense made me hesitate, but I followed through, so as not to disappoint (I'm the foreigner, what do I know?). As soon as I had the makoli-drenched tofu in my mouth, they held back their laughter, making faces of innocent incredulity that anyone would dream of such a affront to the laws of taste. Needless to say, the other foreign teachers got a good laugh out of it too.

In the past two weeks, I've judged two speech competitions, one of which was held at our school, the other of which I was invited to judge at another elementary school, Kyung Hee. Both involved contestants from all grade levels, and every student had to memorize his or her piece. Some of the speeches were abridged versions of traditional European fairy tales that the whole class had preciously read, while others consisted of essays written by the students themselves. All the judges were impressed by the delivery, the maturity of the content, and the amount of preparation that must have gone into each speech. At both schools, the younger children frequently outdid the older ones in performance value, pronunciation, and memory, not to mention employing a whole host of adorable props and costumes. I was asked by another judge if it were possible to die of cuteness. If so, we barely made it to the end of the competition alive.

The students haven't been the only ones giving speeches in the last two weeks. The teachers at Kwangwoon had to write dialogues for their respective classes and perform them over the P.A. system, twice. As luck would have it, the listening test occurred around the same time I caught another cold and started losing my voice. I'm just recovering now. My fragile immune system is no match for and these germ-ridden children!

I'm also teaching new classes at BCM this term, both of which are "free talk" or advanced level conversation classes that don't require a book. I have to search for articles or other subject material to present for discussion. The demographic of my free talk classes is significantly older than my former, intermediate level classes: most are middle aged, and many are career teachers. It's a relief in a way, to have more flexibility, though I have to be on the ball all the time.

So now, when I'm not teaching classes at Kwangwoon or BCM, I'm taking Korean language classes on Tuesday and Thursday evening at the Culture Complex, one on one with a tutor named Bohyeon. He's the same age as me, recently graduated, and lived in the U.K. for a few months last year. After only a couple of classes, I can successfully differentiate and pronounce most of the syllables in Hangul, if not quite consistently.

Below are the pictures you've all been waiting for: the entire Kwangwoon English-teaching faculty; some of my lively grade one students from Kwangwoon elementary; a few mouth-watering pictures of typical restaurant fare (Samgyapsal!); and the brightly coloured mountainside.