English Major Away: Festive Edition (Also Banana Hammocks)

Well, I did it. I made it through my first official Christmas away from home. So, (you ask, wide-eyed and awed) what was it like? How is Christmas celebrated in Korea? Well don’t fret, dear reader, because I am here to tell you that it seems to be a mix between Christmas in America and Valentine’s Day. That’s right, you get all that insufferable holiday cheer shoved down your throat in the form of mistletoe and holly, Christmas trees, and creepy robot Santas as well as the constant Valentine’s Day reminder that you are alone and ugly and no one will ever love you! Hooray!

Pictured: Christmas in Korea

Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic. But Christmas is, in Korea, less a day to be spent with family under the tree and more a day to spend with a girl/boyfriend, shopping and going to movies and eating at nice restaurants. Also, there’s presents and Christmas carols. But take this: on Christmas Eve, when most Americans who celebrate the holiday would be at home eating a home-cooked meal and watching It’s a Wonderful Life (or whatever it is people do these days), the restaurants all over Daejeon were positively packed. I went for dinner with a large group of friends, and waited for nearly three hours in the lobby of our chosen restaurant. Once inside, we saw that most tables were taken up by couples gazing lovingly at each other over their Christmas Eve steaks.

Once I’d powered through Christmas on a diet of (literally) meat and potatoes, I had a school trip to look forward to. No, not a school trip with students, but one with only the staff of my school. We went on an overnight excursion to the island of Jeju, just past the southern tip of the Korean peninsula. It’s a subtropical island that seems to have a completely schizophrenic climate. Up north, it was incredibly windy and cold. Towards the center of the island, it was chilly with thick layers of snow coating the ground. And down south was mild with no snow and plenty of sunshine. This is an island that takes maybe an hour to travel from north to south.

Above: Monday.

Below: Tuesday, 15 miles away.

 

Anyways, Jeju-do (do, as in doe [a  deer, a female deer], means island in Korean) was perhaps the most exhausting bout of furious traveling crammed into an incredibly short time I’ve ever witnessed. After landing at around 9:30AM on Monday, we proceeded to a Chinese acrobat circus, hiking a stretch of coastline, going on a cruise around some volcanic islands, and orange picking. Yes, you can pick oranges in the snow on Jeju-do.

Anyways, that night our unsuspecting group was bussed over to a ‘nightclub’ after dinner. When you think of a nightclub, you might think about a sweaty basement with pounding bass beats and flashing strobe lights. Or maybe a slightly classier establishment with windows and other such high-end accoutrements. Apparently a nightclub in Jeju-do is a huge, bare facsimile of a Las Vegas lounge-act joint. A singer who ‘used to be famous’, according to my co-worker, and a band serenaded us as we entered. Later, the entire goddamned roof opened up for no reason like someone punching a sliced pie from below, only instead of being delicious and hilarious, it just let cold air blow in for awhile while they sprayed soapy foam on us from above.

Now imagine that it opens, only instead of being filled with custardy goodness, there’s nothing but a vast and frozen sky blowing its nose at you.

But wait! There’s more! The next act onstage was a lone man. Off in the corner was a DJ, who started playing some thumpin’ dance beats. Then, the guy started taking his Vegas-y leisure suit off. Until he was wearing only a glow-in-the-dark banana hammock.

Um, not quite.

That’s right, our intrepid tour guide saw fit to take the mostly middle-aged staff of a middle school to a male strip club for a little after-dinner treat. I was probably the least-horrified one there, but only because I couldn’t stop laughing. Especially when the lights went purple, and the stripper’s body somehow glowed purple while his man-thong glowed green like he was some kind of wildly gyrating reverse Hulk.

The next day we woke up early, went hiking once again, took a ride on a toy train to a Dutch windmill (really, should anything I say surprise you at this point?), visited a traditional Jeju-do folk village, and went horseback riding for maybe ten minutes. All in all, we did an absolutely ridiculous number of things in only two days and a little over twenty-four hours. I felt like I was at a buffet of free samples made of Jeju activities.

Thought I was joking about the toy train, didn’t you?

Nine times out of ten, if someone asks you to feel the bear, you don’t go near that shit. For the record, it was kind of greasy.

Anyways, it’s New Year’s Eve here in Korea, and I have been enlisted to taste-test the food at my Korean friend’s new restaurant before I get down to the execution of the Korean New Years’ ritual: forgetting everything that happened in the previous 365 days via the consumption of alcohol. Wish me luck. For the record, my New Year’s resolution is the same as it has been for the past several New Years now, which is to simply not die. Happy New Year, dear readers!

A Few Really Good Things and One Really Bad One

If you’ve been paying any attention at all to the news, you’ve probably heard about the recent events just off the coast of the Korean Peninsula. Just a few months after tensions between North and South Korea ratcheted up another notch with the sinking of the Cheonan, an hour-long exchange of artillery fire took place on Yeonpyeong Island, about 350 kilometers northwest of Daejeon. Being through both of these incidents, the thing that strikes me most is how little my Korean co-workers actually talk about it. Yesterday, the day after the exchange of fire hit international news airwaves, no one at my school even mentioned it. Life went on as usual.

To my friends and family, don’t worry. The US Embassy (and the embassies of my friends from other countries) has not raised the alert, not warned us that we should be packed and ready to go in an instant if anything gets worse. While the Cheonan and Yeonpyeong incidents are significantly worse than any between the Koreas in several years, they still come as a reality of living in a country that is technically at war with its only bordering neighbor. The fact that the regime within that neighbor is feeling increasingly insecure, and now threatened by only its second hereditary shift in power (a very risky proposition when the internal stability of the country relies upon a personality cult so powerful that many of its citizens look upon their leader as a sort of God-king) will only serve to make them more likely to lash out. But South Korea is a stable country with loyal and powerful allies. I feel safe living here, and I don’t feel any less safe now than I did last week.

On to brighter, sunnier things! First off, I would like to congratulate my students in the JinJam Middle School English Drama Club for first of all winning their preliminary round in Daejeon in September, and going on to place 2nd in the nation earlier this month! We beat out teams from Seoul, where the national view is that English ability is higher, and we laid waste to high school teams, as well! We’re like the Mighty Ducks of acting! Only in Korea!

 Starring me as Emilio Estevez.

In addition to helping the drama club grab some glory, I was asked to teach Korean English teachers during a training session about using drama techniques in the classroom. Given that theatre was one of my areas of study in college, I jumped at the chance. Plus, I truly believe that using drama to teach a second language is a very effective technique. It builds pronunciation, vocabulary, listening skills, and fluency all at once, and it’s a ton of fun. And now I’m officially a trainer for the Korean public school system!

I also mentioned in my last post that one of my stories, a flash fiction (under 1000 words) piece called ‘Judas Wrote a Blank Check’, would be posted up on a website called The Flash Fiction Offensive. Well, you can read that story right now! Leave a comment if you want to curry my very valuable good favor, but beware that some people who have read it have found its content to be objectionable.

That’s all I really wanted to say this time out. Sorry for the lack of pictures, cartoons, and off-color jokes. I hope you’ll forgive me. Have a happy Thanksgiving! ‘Til next time!

The Most Embarrassing Airport Security Experience Ever and Other Stupid Adventures

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS CRUDE JOKES (even more so than usual).

Okay, I’m sorry. I admit it, I’ve been slacking. I went to Japan, a major international film festival, and what I can only describe as a Rock ‘n Roll Flame Daredevil Explosion Festival in Daejeon and I still haven’t updated this site. But it’s only because I’ve been so busy and haven’t had time. That and I’ve been hard at work pursuing my more fictional writing. So anyways, this post will be a quick and dirty update on some of the absurd experiences I’ve had recently.

We’ll start with Japan. My number one motivation for going was to visit fellow Mac English major/EFL extraordinaire Wes in his little city of Uedo. After traveling for a very, very long time I finally arrived, looked around for Wes, and only succeeded in finding him when he shouted, “Jake! You look like a idiot!” To be fair, he was right. My few days in Uedo featured darts and beer, and some raw horse meat. I’m not entirely sure why horse gets such a bad rap as a food in the West. It was pretty tasty.

Anyways, from Uedo I went to Tokyo, where I had a rather strange mission for myself. I had to out-weird the package I received from my friends in Saint Paul, which included pre-colored coloring book pages, two varieties of cat food, random candy, and what I think was a ball of cat hair. That meant going to Akihabara, the video game/girls-in-maid-costumes-cafe/sex shop center of Tokyo. Basically, if you want to see all that weird stuff you’ve heard about people seeing in Japan, this is where you go. So I went there, and found no less than three different varieties of liquor-scented ‘erotic oil’, which I intended to pack up in a box and send to my friends because let’s face it, that’s pretty funny.

What was considerably less funny was when the bottles of liquor-scented sex oil turned out to be a little too big for the strict ‘liquid on an airplane’ limits and my bag was searched. A week’s worth of dirty laundry was unearthed, and the security guard was rather confused by the bottles of brightly-colored oil in my bag and had to run them by about three of his colleagues. While snickering. I tried to keep a sheepish grin on my face so that they knew that I did not, in fact, have an oddly specific addiction to this stuff.

 You know you want it.

In the end, they made me check my bag. So it could’ve been worse. I could’ve been arrested for attempted lubricant terrorism or something.

So anyways, Japan was indeed a blast. Tokyo is the cleanest city I have ever been to, almost to the level of being creepy. There is no garbage anywhere (and no trash cans, either, which seems something of a paradox to me). The food is delicious, public transportation efficient, and landmarks appropriately beautiful.

Quick! What does this Tokyo landmark remind you of?

October brought the Busan film festival, which is a huge event. For me, it mostly involved standing in line for tickets, finding out that the movies we really wanted to see were sold out, and settling on a couple of documentaries. One was an interesting look at growing up in the Soviet Union as it crumbled, the other was a three-hour propaganda film for kabuki theatre in Tokyo. And we saw a Korean movie star! I don’t know who it was, but I know it was a movie star because he was surrounded by people with cameras and autograph materials.

Finally this brings me to the Daejeon Balloon and Rock Festival. Which also included guys flying around in weird parachute/giant fan contraptions, towering jets of flame, fireworks, and epic fantasy quest music in the background, leading to the single most absurd moment of sensory overload of my life.

Center: towering jet of flame. Background: fireworks. Top right: Guys in weird parachute/fan contraptions. Not pictured: Epic fantasy quest music.

Whew. I guess that’s all. I’ve been busy. As evidence of such, I want to give you a link. A flash fiction (a story under 1000 words, for the uninitiated) piece of mine will be going up on this website in about two weeks. Be warned, some people who’ve read it have been… shall we say, displeased with its themes and certain events therein. But I’m proud of it, and it’ll be my first fiction published outside of a school I was attending!

www.theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com

At last, I leave with some photos of the magnificently unsettling (and deserted) Daejeon EXPO Park. For your amusement. ‘Til next time, dear readers!

 

Winning IS Everything, After All

My English Drama Club was in its second competition on Saturday. If you’ll recall, we finished our first competition in second place. This time out we laid waste to our adversaries and secured first place and a trip to Seoul to compete nationally. So that’s pretty cool.

As a theatre and English major you might think I would be predisposed to getting Korean students to act in English. But these competitions seem to have surprisingly little to do with actual acting. One thing directors in normal theatre are not supposed to do is give line readings to their actors; tell them how to say a line. With this play, though, that’s pretty much all we did. The movements and gestures are all carefully choreographed and rehearsed ad nauseum (the whole thing is less than ten minutes long, but we managed to have a few three hour rehearsals nonetheless). Sound effects, music clips, and dancing are a must according to the students, which is how they wound up sneaking High School Musical into this thing when I missed rehearsal one day. But I’m not sure how much the students here want to act (and some of them have the potential to be really good) and how much they really just want to win. Or learn to speak English better. Whatever the motivation, they did a fantastic job and put on a good show, despite our budget and performance space both being drastically reduced in size in comparison to our first effort, so I’m posting the video below for you to see. Under the video I’ll paste the script, so if you feel the need to follow along to better understand the words you can go right ahead.

My next post will come after my Japan trip, so ‘til then, dear readers!

SUPERHEROES

(The play takes place in an average school. PETER is alone in a classroom, reading a comic book. The NARRATOR walks among the other characters, sometimes interacting.)

NARRATOR
Behold, Peter, a seemingly normal young man. But hidden underneath his average appearance, there is hero waiting to be born!

(BEN walks by and pushes Peter out of his chair.)

BEN
Nerd!

PETER
Ow! Jerk…

NARRATOR
The hero has been waiting for a long time, but I think he’s almost ready now.

(Ben turns around and goes back to Peter.)

BEN
What did you say?

PETER
Nothing.

BEN
That’s right!

(Ben hits Peter for emphasis and walks away again.)

NARRATOR
Okay, any second now…

(Peter gets up and sits back in his chair. He picks up his comic book again.)

PETER
What a bully!

NARRATOR
Seriously, I know it’s coming.

PETER
I wish I could be more like… Action Man!

(Superhero music, the Narrator puts a cape on Peter.)

NARRATOR
There it is!

PETER
(He sighs.)
But I’m not really a superhero. I’m just a normal kid.

NARRATOR
Oh, come on! I know what you need… a sidekick!

(EMMA enters the classroom, carrying her books for class.)

EMMA
Are you okay, Peter?

PETER
Yeah Emma, I’m fine. It’s just Ben being mean again.

EMMA
He’s such a jerk. There must be a way to teach him a lesson!

PETER
You’re right! If we work together, I’m sure we can think of something.

EMMA
Um, are you wearing a cape?

(The Narrator swoops in and puts a cape on Emma, too.)

PETER
I guess so. But so are you.

NARRATOR
Behold, the greatest superhero team of all time!

(Superhero music.)

EMMA
Where’s that music coming from?

NARRATOR
But wait! Another approaches!

(Music. BRUCE enters the classroom.)

PETER
Oh great, it‘s that jock, Bruce.

BRUCE
Hi, guys. What’s with the capes?

EMMA
We’re not sure. I think we’re superheroes.

BRUCE
Peter, you look upset. What’s wrong?

PETER
It’s Ben. He’s always so mean to me.

BRUCE
Yeah, Ben can be mean sometimes.

EMMA
We’re going to teach him a lesson.

BRUCE
How?

PETER
We don’t know yet. But I have a good imagination.

EMMA
And I’ve got the smarts.

BRUCE
Well maybe I can help, too. Ben does need to learn that it’s not okay to pick on people.

PETER
What can you do?

BRUCE
Well… I’m strong. Like, really strong.

NARRATOR
(Puts a cape on Bruce.)
And so, our dynamic duo became a trio! A League of Heroes set against the school bully!
(Superhero music.)

PETER
Where do these capes keep coming from?

NARRATOR
Meanwhile, the villain meets with his henchmen in their hideout… er, I mean, the hallway.

(Peter, Emma, and Bruce all freeze while Ben enters with his friends OTTO and JEAN.)

OTTO
Hey Ben, I think we’re going to be late for class…

BEN
Who cares?

JEAN
Um, me?

BEN
Shut up, Jean.

OTTO
Why can’t we just go to class?

BEN
Because, Otto, we’re going to catch whoever’s late to class, and shake ‘em down for their lunch money!

JEAN
Ohh, now I see.

OTTO
Good plan, Ben!

BEN
I know. I’m a genius.

NARRATOR
An evil genius. The arch-nemesis of our superheroes: Bully Man!
(Music, pause.)
It’s okay to boo him, if you want.

BEN
Now come on, you morons, follow me!

(Ben, Otto, and Jean all exit. )

NARRATOR
Back in the classroom, The League of Heroes confers.

EMMA
So what do you think we should do?

BRUCE
Well, I could use my awesome muscles to punch Ben in the face. He’d never see it coming!

PETER
Real heroes never have to use violence, Muscle Man.

BRUCE
But Batman uses it all the time!

PETER
Are you Batman?

BRUCE
No.

PETER
Didn’t think so.

EMMA
Okay Peter, if we can’t hurt Ben back, how can we teach him a lesson?

PETER
You’re the smart one, you tell me.

EMMA
But this was all your idea. You’re the one with the imagination.

NARRATOR
(sighs.)
Guys, guys, don’t you think you should be working together?

(Peter, Emma, and Bruce all jump, surprised.)

BRUCE
Where did you come from?

NARRATOR
Never mind that. Just stop arguing and start thinking!

PETER
Hey, this mysterious woman is right! We should all be working together.

NARRATOR
(sighs again.)
Thank you.
(He snaps his fingers.)
Disappear!

EMMA
Hey, where’d she go?

BRUCE
I have no idea what’s going on.

PETER
Focus, guys! How can we work together to teach Ben a lesson?

EMMA
Well, Ben likes to beat up on people smaller than him, right?

PETER
Does he ever.

EMMA
Then maybe we can use Bruce as a bodyguard!

PETER
Wow, great idea!

BRUCE
I like it. He’ll never get past these guns!
(Bruce flexes his biceps.)

NARRATOR
And so, our heroes were on their way to stopping their nemesis! But we still have one last hero before the final showdown…

(Sue enters, already wearing her superhero outfit, carrying her guitar.)
The Musician! Using the gift of song to save the world!

SUE
Hey, guys.

PETER, EMMA, & BRUCE
Hi, Sue!

SUE
What’re you doing?

PETER
Oh, we’re superheroes.

SUE
All of you?

EMMA
Yeah, we’re a League of Superheroes, actually. You want to join?

SUE
No, thanks. I usually fly solo.

EMMA
Oh. I see.

SUE
No offense to you guys.

BRUCE
None taken.

PETER
Yeah, it’s totally okay.

SUE
Okay, then.
(Pause.)
You mind if I practice in here until class starts?

PETER, EMMA, BRUCE
Of course!

SUE
Thanks!

(Sue goes over to the corner and begins to practice her guitar.)

NARRATOR
Well, that didn’t go like I‘d hoped. Maybe it’ll work out in the end. Anyways, back to the hallway, where the villainous Ben and his henchmen are putting their plan into action!

(Peter, Emma, Bruce, and Sue all freeze. Ben, Otto, and Jean enter.)

OTTO
And then, the other nerd, he said -

BEN
Shh! Someone’s coming. Otto you stand there. Jean, behind me.

(Otto goes to where Ben points, stage left, and Jean counter crosses stage right. All three pretend to be going about their normal business. Hank enters, carrying an armload of books.)

JEAN
Hey there.

BEN
Shut up, Jean. Hey there, loser.

HANK
Me?

BEN
You see any other losers around here?

HANK
Um, no?

OTTO
That’s right, loser.

BEN
Shut up, Otto.

OTTO
Sorry.

(Ben approaches Hank.)

BEN
What have we here, geek?

HANK
Just… my homework.

BEN
Oh, it’s just your homework, huh? Then I guess you don’t mind if I do… this!

(Otto and Jean, one on each side of Hank, slam his books and papers to the floor.)

HANK
Hey!

(Otto and Jean each grab one of Hank’s arms.)

HANK
Let go!

JEAN
Quit squirming, you little runt!

BEN
You got any lunch money? Any food? Hand it over, geek!

HANK
I don’t have anything, I swear!

OTTO
Then we’ll just have to take… all of your homework!

(Bruce, Emma, and Peter enter.)

PETER
Unhand that nerd, villain!
(Superhero music.)

BEN
Oh? And who’s going to make me?

EMMA
We are! The League of Superheroes!

BEN
Ooo, I’m shaking in my shoes. Go get ‘em, friends!

(Otto and Jean leap forward, but Bruce steps out and flexes his biceps at them.)

BRUCE
Muscle power!

(Jean and Bruce stop and stumble back.)

OTTO
Whoa!

JEAN
I’m not going to mess with him!

(They both turn and run away.)

BEN
Wait, come back!
(They don’t.)
Fine. You guys are losers, too!
(He turns back to face Bruce, Peter, and Emma. Meanwhile, Hank hides in the background, watching.)
I can take all three of you on at once, by myself!

PETER
Ben, wait!

BEN
Wait for what?

PETER
Why do you want to beat us up?

BEN
Because… you’re nerds? You’re weird? You’re smaller than me?

BRUCE
I’m not smaller than you.

EMMA
But Ben, how many friends do you have?

BEN
I’ve got Otto and Jean.

PETER
But are they your friends, or are they just afraid of you?

BEN
What’s the difference?

NARRATOR
Oh, my.

PETER
Your friends want to hang out with you, and help you, and have fun with you. Do they do that?

BEN
Well… I guess they mostly just punch what I tell them to punch.

EMMA
Those aren’t friends, Ben. They’re henchmen.

BEN
Are you… are you saying that nobody likes me?
(Ben sounds as if he is about to cry.)

BRUCE
Well, it’s just that when you go around being mean to people…

PETER
…that’s the effect you have.

EMMA
Nobody wants to hang out with a bully.

BEN
But… but everybody already thinks I’m a bully. How can I convince people to be friends with me?

PETER
You could start by apologizing to Hank over there.

(Hank steps forward and Ben goes up to meet him. Hank looks scared, but Ben picks up his book and hands it to him.)

BEN
Sorry about that. I won’t be mean to you anymore.

HANK
Really?

BEN
Really.

HANK
Wow! Thanks, League of Superheroes!

(Music.)

PETER, EMMA, & BRUCE
You’re welcome!

EMMA
See, Ben, it’s getting better already!

BEN
Will you guys help me? To make friends and stuff?

PETER
Of course! If we all work together, there’s nothing we can’t do!

(Sue enters with her guitar.)

SUE
Hey, guys. How’s the superhero thing going?

BRUCE
Awesome! I think we just added a new member!

BEN
Really?

EMMA
Of course!

NARRATOR
And so, the League of Superheroes adds its fourth member!
(Narrator puts a cape on Ben, superhero music plays.)
And everybody learned a valuable lesson: That if we all work together, we can change anything!

SUE
Hey guys, I’ve been working on a new song! Want to hear it?

PETER
Of course!

SUE
Okay, here goes!

(Song and dance.)

THE END.

Into the 4th Dimension

I can’t believe I haven’t talked about this yet. I live in Daejeon, which really wants to be Korea’s science and technology capital. In fact, in the city’s motto, “It’s Daejeon”, the “It’s” is a cleverly-disguised acronym for “Information, Technology, and Science”. I met a guy on Friday night who does research into nuclear waste disposal.

“I use a glass box and protecting gloves,” he said.

“Like Homer Simpson?”

“Exactly like Home Simpson.”

This is not an uncommon conversation for me. Most Korean men I meet (who aren’t students) in Daejeon seem to work in Techno Valley, a district in the northern part of the city where I can only assume scientists are hard at work on several variations of Doomsday Machines.

Korea will soon unveil its “XXL Hadron Collider”.

Nothing is quite so humbling as asking someone what they do for a living and having it go like this:

“I do research for nanotechnology.”

“Like, microscopic robots?”

“Yes. What did you study?”

“Um… English and Theatre.”

It’s not just the super-science that South Korea is into, though. The country is also home to two of the largest electronics brands in the world in Samsung and LG. In America you’d probably think of flat-screen TV’s and maybe cell phones when you read those brands, but in Korea they make everything. And I do mean everything. If you live in a high-rise apartment in Korea, chances are that it’s either a Samsung or LG apartment building (or maybe a Hyundai). And they export their architectural skills, too. Samsung is responsible for the Burj Dubai, AKA the New Tower of Babel, which forced our angry God into causing two hundred extra languages to spontaneously appear.

Gorzanese 101 will be available at your local community college for the Fall semester.

All this is to say that when any new technology becomes available to the masses here, chances are it will be exploited as hard anyone can exploit anything. Case in point, the whole 3D craze in movies right now. Yes, they have massive 3D screens on which they show all the latest movies, but Korea does America one D better: they have 4D. I’m not kidding. I thought at first that watching a 4D movie would allow me to travel in time.

 

This misconception was exacerbated when Doc Brown was there to personally sell me my ticket.

What 4D does is essentially turn your movie-going experience into an extended theme park ride. My friend Brian and I made the wise decision to shell out the few extra Won to see Piranha 3D in 4D. While watching most movies like this would probably just be annoying, watching a movie about killer fish eating naked girls while your seat gently sways with the motion of the onscreen boat, or something punches you in the ass when the fish bite the girl floating in the inflatable tube, is pretty stellar. The theatre blasted air in my face, sprayed water at me, and, during a party scene, put a laser light show on the ceiling. The first one of these theatres popped up in Seoul a few weeks after Avatar was released. Now, there are tons of them. Things like that change very rapidly in Korea.

Case in point: Korean Monopoly. I played this on my very first night in Daejeon with Sookhee and her two sons. It’s just like regular Monopoly, except that you don’t have to own all the properties of one color to build on them. You also don’t have to build four houses before you build a hotel, and you can build as many hotels as you can squeeze onto the square. In other words, buy a scrap of land, and build as much as you can as quickly as you can. That’s how it goes here. Most times you just look out the window of the bus and think, “Hey, those giant apartment buildings weren’t here last time I was here.” Sometimes, though, they take a jackhammer to the side of your apartment building at 8AM on a Sunday.

That’s all for this update, folks. Next time I’ll have the results of this Saturday’s English drama competition! Til then, dear readers.

This Land is Your Land, This Land is Thailand

I’ll be honest, I have no idea how to write an interesting blog about my tour of Thailand. Twelve days is enough time to see a lot of really cool things, have some memorable experiences, catch up with old friends, and spend more time than is seemly on a bus, but in terms of the culture and people of Thailand… well, I was a tourist. I tried here and there, but in the end I wanted to eat good food, see some wats, tramp around in the jungle, and enjoy being away from my home in Daejeon for awhile. So congratulations, internet, you’re getting a travel retrospective, lots of little stories about stuff I saw and did, and very little about the country itself. I’m sure it’s the first post like this you’ve ever seen, too! I’ll try to make it as amusingly sarcastic as I can, just for you. Ready? Here we go!

I flew into Bangkok on the night of August 5th and immediately realized that I had not planned anything as well as I thought. My flight got in an hour late. Zach was scheduled to meet me at the airport at a specific time (he’d arrived the day before), and I was late. So I was worried about that. I should’ve been more worried that we never specified a place to meet in the airport. So I spent a good half hour in the Immigration Control line trying to remember just what the hell the name of our guest house was in case I needed to find it alone. Somehow, we found each other in the massive antechamber of the airport (by following the signs that said ‘meeting point’). So that was good.

What can I say about Bangkok? It’s sprawling – unlike places like Seoul or London there really aren’t any central “go here” areas. It’s a city to explore at your leisure and find things that suit you. We found JJ Market, supposedly the largest open air market in the world. We also found Khao San, the neon-colored hyperactive backpacker district, shopping centers that outstrip the Korean ones for sheer insanity, and the Bangkok Art and Culture Center, where we stumbled upon this:

Art!

In JJ Market I experienced Thai massage. This was actually my first massage of any kind, much less a foot massage. Let me be clear: I have extraordinarily ticklish feet. For the first five to ten minutes I was holding back anything ranging from laughter to vomit to face-kicking. I would imagine it looked something like this:

Which is far preferable, of course, to this:

Luckily, we got the massages just in time, as we had long bus rides ahead of us that night. Nick was headed back to his site (he labors for the Peace Corps, bless his soul), while Zach and I were to board an all-night bus from Bangkok to the smaller, more rustic, hippie-populated town of Chiang Mai. In case you’re wondering how far that is, here you go:

This is the Indiana Jones route. The bus’s way was considerably curvier.

This first night bus ride was very pleasant compared to our second (don’t worry, I’ll get to that later). Thanks to my uncanny ability to hold back the natural reaction to someone touching the bottoms of my feet for an extended period of time, my legs weren’t stiff as I dozed on the bus. Anyway, we arrived in Chiang Mai and promptly went to sleep. Then we woke up and explored the streets of the town center, which may hold the most ridiculous density of temples ever. One side of the street was restaurants, the other side was temples. Thai wats, like the temples in Korea, are really cool the first few times you see them. Then after you see twenty or thirty they all start to blend together. Wats are certainly more spectacular, all red and gold with dragons and hydras and pagodas shaped vaguely like those weird little meringue cookies.

   Same same… but different.

We spent only one night in Chiang Mai. I wish we could’ve spent more time there as I’d heard a lot of great things about the city prior to visiting, but we had to get to Pai. This journey is just about the most nauseating thing I’ve ever done aside from that time I squashed dog shit with my foot and then inhaled the smell when I was four.

Yeah, that looks about right.

Pai, for the uninitiated, is a strange little mountain town somewhere close to Chiang Mai. The map claims north, but the road is so twisty that I doubt anyone has ever made the journey and had the sense of direction to figure out where the hell Pai actually is. Most likely someone just gestured vaguely in a random direction and said, “I think Chiang Mai is over there somewhere.”  The thing about Pai is that, while it has many of the things you would expect from a mountain town (an open-air market with fresh produce, meats, and fish, small hole-in-the-wall restaurants and bars), it also has about seven thousand guest houses and almost everyone seems to speak English. Even outside of Pai you’ll find little villages with resorts and restaurants and such tucked inside them. It’s like its own little world stocked with everything a tourist could want, and it seemed that at least a third of the town’s population was a rotating roster of backpackers.

In any case, being tourists, we fit right in. Zach and I rented motorbikes, christening them Brandine (Zach’s) and Red Rocket (mine), and tore ass around the idyllic mountain scenery as The Wolverines, the awesomest and probably only two-man scooter gang this side of Chiang Mai (whichever side of Chiang Mai we might have actually been on).

Aw scoot scoot muthaf&%ckah, aww scoot scoot goddamn! (Goddamn!)

We saw waterfalls, a canyon, some elephants, and floated in some hot springs despite the fact that it was already pretty hot outside (although, my co-workers were shocked to learn, not as hot as Korea is right now). It was, obviously, a beautiful, awesome, and exciting adventure. Only three things went wrong. The first was that it kept raining, but of course it’s rainy season so we couldn’t complain too much. Instead, we just resigned ourselves to being damp and uncomfortable during our outdoor explorations (not to mention risking life and limb to travel in the rain). Second, we kept getting lost thanks to a less-than-stellar map that was supposed to be scoot-friendly.

“Jake, just because there aren’t any cows on the map doesn’t mean we’re in the wrong place.”

Third, I ran out of money. Okay, I didn’t exactly run out of money. I still had plenty in my Korean account. But I had brought enough cash to get me through nearly a week, thinking I would be able to draw more from an ATM or bank with either my US card or my Korean one. But I underestimated the screwiness of international finances. I suppose I should’ve seen it coming, given the amount of time I’ve spent in Korea sitting in various banks trying to convince people that it is not, in fact, illegal to allow me to send my own money home over the internet. But anyways, luckily Zach looked ahead and brought too much money, and that’s how I wound up with a sugar daddy for the final leg of our trip.

After we finished in Pai we boarded another minivan (thanks for the ticket, Zach!) and went back down the impossibly twisty road to Chiang Mai, where we boarded what shall henceforth be referred to as the Devil Bus. Our destination was Koh Chang, an island south of Bangkok. We sat in the very back row of the Devil Bus, the one with five seats all along the wall. I sat on the far left side, against the window, Zach sat on the far right side. In between us sat two large British men. The one sitting next to me loved the Minnesota Vikings, which, being raised in Wisconsin and a lifelong Packer fan, did not make anything easier for me. This is how things started:

Unfortunately, very quickly British Guys 1 and 2 realized that they could share that lovely empty space rather than having to sit next to each other. British Guy 2 also insisted on sleeping, for most of the duration of the ride, curled up in a fetal position taking up a full two and a half seats, which looked more like this:

I tried using my considerably broad shoulders to force British Guy 2 to move, but that resulted in being just as cramped while risking this snoring fetal Favre-loving Brit falling directly into my lap. So instead I tried using my ass to push him a little bit in the direction of his second empty seat, thus facing towards the window. When I somehow managed to fall asleep in this position, I awoke to a startling discover: the wall of the Devil Bus next to the window was decorated with sharp metal pokey things, which I guess are all the rage in vehicular interiors these days. I would fall asleep until we hit a bump, then awake with a sharp stabbing sensation in my face.

“Shh, just go back to sleep. Everything will be okay in the morning…”

When we finally arrived back in Bangkok, it was time for another minivan ride. Four more hours of jostling and leg cramps later, we arrived at the truly spectacular island of Koh Chang, a place where people as pale as me really have no business frolicking.

Around here our journey just about ended. We met up with Nick and few of his fellow Peace Corps people, relaxed on the beach, ate food, drank cocktails, and saw some random cows. And lots and lots of banana hammocks and thong-kinis (seriously, I thought that only happened in the movies). After a couple of nights here, Zach, Nick, and I all headed back to Bangkok, where we gathered for one last picture before Nick headed home. Zach and I tried to have an adventure in our last night together in Thailand, but we were both too exhausted from all the exploring, adventuring, scooting, Devil Bus riding, and beach relaxing to make a go of it. And that’s the story of my trip to Thailand, edited for public consumption.

‘Til next time, dear readers.

I have no excuse for myself.

Summer: Truly the Most Horrifying Time of Year

I know, I know. I more or less promised that I wouldn’t write another post until I got back from Thailand. But you know what? Shut up, that’s what. Because I’ve got something to relate to you. You might remember my mild complaint in my last post about the stifling summertime heat and humidity here in South Korea. After a trip with some friends to Everland (Korean Disneyland, basically) on Sunday I think I can safely say that I undersold the extremity of the situation. I spent five hours outside on Sunday, during which the sun was going and yet I was somehow getting progressively more miserable. If you’ll allow, I will once again make use of my superior artistic abilities to elaborate.

Hour 1: Sweating profusely, but not feeling faint. Adrenaline from roller coasters still managing to help me ignore the bulk of the available misery.

Hour 2: The heat begins to affect my Everland experience ever-so-slightly. Pools of sweat form in spots where I stand for more than thirty seconds. However, a few brief stopovers in air-conditioned areas do a bit to help alleviate the problem.

Hour 3: The sun begins to set, giving the sky a lovely hue known as “Seoul Twilight Smog”. This successfully convinces my body that it might get cooler soon. As a result of that instinct - as well as what is at this point mildly severe dehydration - the sweat begins to slow.

After taking a few swigs of water and trying to walk up a lengthy incline, my body realizes that it has been fooled into thinking it might not be so hot outside anymore, and immediately overcompensates with a sweat frenzy. The Korean Herald’s headline the next day would read: “Sweaty American Drowns Everland, Writes Insensitive Blog on the Subject.”

Most people are familiar with the phrase, “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.” Well, according to my fragile Northern Midwest body temperature regulations, it’s both. Ninety degrees Fahrenheit is hot, and it shouldn’t be foggy out when it’s that hot. And you’d think that it might get cooler when the sun went down, but you’d be wrong. And that line of thinking will get you drowned at Everland.

But as much as I hate the heat, there are creatures in Korea who love it. They love it so, so much, that they sing about it every day. They’re singing about how much they love right now, as a matter of fact. I can hear them. Sometimes, they sing so loudly that if you’re trying to talk to your friend, you have to shout to be heard. They look like this:

Hello! Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it? LALALALALALA.

That would be a Korean cicada. Now, the ones we have in America are pretty big. Not be outdone, though, Korea went and made them bigger. That picture up there, that’s life-sized, more or less. I have seen them, I have heard them, and I am terrified of them. But not as terrified as I am of what I can only assume to be only creature that actually wants to eat that thing.

We interrupt this blog with a special message from your nightmares.

Yup, that’s an Asian Giant Hornet. Before coming to Korea, I had believed this thing to be referred to as the Japanese Giant Hornet. Had I known it was also available to make you shit your pants in Korea, I would have thought much harder about moving here. But wait, it gets worse. How? Well, imagine looking out for giant cicadas falling from trees and dodging massive hornets as you make your way home through ‘air’ that can be better described as ‘hot soup’. You arrive home, switch on your air conditioner, and proceed to do your laundry. As you look out the window of your laundry room, you notice several giant hornets buzzing about the tree right next to your building. You look a little closer and you see this:

 Oh no, you did NOT just bring my mama into this! My mama is a SAINT! A horrifying, bloodthirsty SAINT!

When I saw that, I slammed the window shut and prayed for Autumn. Most times, I love summer. The weather is warm, you can go to the beach and go swimming, sit out in the sun and read a favorite book, or go to an outdoor concert with your friends. Here in Korea, you can sweat until you pass out, at which point giant insects will feast upon your flesh. Or you can make a break for the nearest air conditioning unit and hope nothing too terrible lands on the back of your neck on the way. Once this season passes and I’m able to feasibly go outside for long periods of time again, I will be a much happier man. But ‘til then, dear readers…

 

Let’s Get Ready to Ramble: Illustrated Reflections on Being a Grown-up in My First Semester in Daejeon

I’m almost there. At least, I think I am. After nearly two post-graduation years of false starts, unemployment, and jobs that were only mildly preferable to unemployment, I think I might almost be a grown-up. And it only took moving across the world to do it. Now, I’ve not only got a job that allows me to pay my student loans(more than a lot of Americans can say these days… ZING!), I’ve got a writing circle, a Korean class, and tickets to travel to not one but two foreign countries in the next two months. So I think, maybe, I’m close to qualifying for that elite grown-up club, even if I’m not sure I want to.

But then again maybe not. Sometimes I feel like throwing an all-out two-year-old-style temper tantrum. Case in point, yesterday. I was on my way to school, happy as a clam knowing that English Camp only runs from 2-4, and therefore I could sit at my desk keeping my chair warm and poking at the internet while considering doing something productive.

Oh wait, I almost forgot. It’s horrifically hot and humid outside. It actually looked more like this:

I arrived at school as I usually do, sweaty and completely ready to take a few minutes in front of the fan to cool off and put out the fires on my clothes and hair. Unfortunately, my co-teacher Sookhee found me before I’d even had a chance to switch the fan on. Here is what followed:

Sookhee: Nam-teacher has a business trip today and cannot teach her classes.

Still not understanding the gravity of the situation.

Sookhee: I taught her class first period, but I have my own classes second through fourth.

Beginning to come to grips with the harsh pain of reality.

Sookhee: You can teach those three classes for Nam-teacher this morning.

 

 Stage One: Denial.

Sookhee: The first one starts in five minutes. Sorry about that!

 Stage Two: Panic

Sookhee: You can be fine, I think. Just play games. They can read books, too.

Sookhee really was understanding of what terrible situation this was. At this point, though, the damage was done. Stage Two quickly devolved into Stage 3, which lasted the rest of the morning.

Stage 3: Blind Hulk Rage

May God help any Korean student who crosses the Foreign Teacher when he or she has reached Stage 3 before class has even begun. First, you have an angry teacher. Second,you have students who can’t understand large chunks of what the angry teacher says. This communication barrier only serves to compound the teacher’s anger. Take, for example, what happened to the poor misguided soul who decided to attempt a nap on top of the computer bank.

That’ll learn ‘em to mess with Mr. Disch-ee.

I can only assume that this student thought that the keyboards he was lying on would provide some sort of therapeutic back massage. After some Chinese food for lunch, everything calmed down and I regretted eating that student. And while no, what actually happened was not this bad, the temptation to make it so was there, which is why I still must question my grown-up-ness. Also, I just spent an hour and a half drawing stick figures in Microsoft Paint, which may provide another reason to call my maturity level into question.

So maybe I’m not quite a grown-up. But I am famous. No, seriously. This one actually happened a couple of months ago on a trip to the Daejeon Symphony’s Opera Night with Ah Young and one of her friends. There was some famous fat guy running around in the crowd being followed by a TV crew and then this happened:

Four years of studying acting and the closest I get to fame and fortune is standing in line for someone else’s performance looking like I haven’t pooped in a couple weeks. Thanks, Liberal Arts!

A couple weeks ago I came into the faculty office at school and everyone started laughing. When I asked why, Sookhee showed me that picture. I had been wondering why students kept saying, “Teacher! I see you Sponge!” I was terrified, thinking the kids had somehow seen me at Sponge Bar one of the two times I’d been to that hellhole. But no, this TV show is called Sponge, and I was standing in the background for four seconds. Now I’m more famous in Korea than I ever was in America. Hooray?

So all in all, after five months and one semester of teaching English through the EPIK program in South Korea, what do I have to show for myself? Well, a greatly reduced debt, plenty of new friends, a stint on TV, a second-place finish in the Daejeon English Drama Festival, marginal-at-best Korean language skills, and the type of thinking on my feet that can usually prevent Stage 3 Hulk Rage in the classroom. All in all, a pretty successful first semester. And I’ve been glad to share it with you as time allows. Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be posting again until after my trip to Thailand unless something really awesome and unforeseen happens in the next couple weeks. That means my next post is almost a month away. Sorry about that. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my doodles. ‘Til next time, dear readers!

 

College Boy Goes to Seoul

Almost exactly two years after graduating from college, I’m back. Not for a degree, mind you; all I’ll get this time is a “certificate of completion” if I pass my “Korean for Foreigners” class at Chungnam University (which is definitely not a given). But still, it’s fun to say that I’m back in college again. Mostly I got sick and tired of not being able to talk to hardly anyone, including most of the other teachers at my school, and decided it was time to take the plunge and really try to learn the language. I’m now logging about seven hours of Korean class a week, which is about as many class hours as I took in my final semester in real college anyways, so I think it’s fair to say that I’m a college boy once again.

Speaking of college, this past weekend Zach and I headed back to Seoul for a little college reunion. Our mutual friend Alex was visiting from the States, his grad school production of Antigone being part of a theatre festival in the capital. Alex knew a couple of other Macalester graduates in the area, as well, and naturally we all got together for a photo op for our alumni magazine:

If you don’t know what sort of gang sign that happy fellow in the middle is doing with his left hand, consider yourself lucky and move on with your life.

After spending some time standing around in the tiny “park” in Hongdae, watching what appeared to be a seance to raise the spirit of Michael Jackson on the anniversary of his death, as well as a jumping contest, we wandered to Gorilla Bar, where everyone kind of lost track of everyone else. But I wound up back at the hostel in any case, so it all worked out.

The next day was filled with napping while waiting for Brian, a friend from Daejeon, to make it Seoul. When he arrived we set off for Itaewon, which is in and of itself a rather uncomfortable place filled with a great many smirking Americans with their shorts hanging halfway down their asses. But they have an English bookstore and international grocery store there, and I wanted reading material and some curry fixins. Oh, and a Korea World Cup shirt. After three games, I still had not acquired my red shirt and therefore had been unable to BE THE REDS yet. But Korea’s first World Cup game in the second round EVER outside of Korea was to be played that night, and damned if I was gonna be the one douchebag in the whole audience without a red shirt.

I preferred to be one face in a sea of douchebags. Just kidding, they were all pretty cool.

So after dinner with my sister’s friend Shannon and her friends, Brian and I made a quick trip back to our hostel before meeting back up with them at City Hall. In the pouring rain.

Oh yeah, that’s right! After holding off all day, the rain managed to force me into wearing a garbage bag only after I had proudly put on my new red T-shirt (complete with ferocious-looking dragon face!). To make matters worse, the garbage bag was blue, one of the colors of Uruguay, who were the evening’s hated opponent/arch-nemesis. But it turned out okay, because the rain managed to stop after everyone was thoroughly soaked through. All 80,000 or so of us.

With this many screaming fans in red shirts, how can we possibly lose? Wait, what’s that you say?

This was a pretty wild experience. Imagine not being able to move hardly at all because people are packed in so tight. Imagine first trying to find three people in ponchos in this sea of people in ponchos, then imagine all of those people simultaneously sitting down on the ground. Yes, even though it was wet, at one point it was like a switch was flipped and everyone was hunkered down staring at the three giant screens showing the game. The cheerleader guy on the stage would occasionally break in with shouts of, “Dae! Han-min! Guk!” (Korean for “Republic of Korea”) or “Pilsaeng Korea!” (“Victory Korea!”) and everyone would scream with delight or fear or general dampness whenever someone touched the ball onscreen. It was like a stadium atmosphere, but without the stadium, seats, or actual physical game being played in the vicinity. But when Uruguay scored early in the first half, things got depressing for a little while. Which leads me to the more creative-minded part of this little post, for which I’ll try something different. This will be from the perspective of the aforementioned cheerleader guy, entitled:

***

DAEHAN-MINGUK GLORIA!

That many thousands of people can be silent, it’s true. As the ball bounced in front of the goal to the waiting foot of the offense, the roar became deafening. It became even more so as the ball sailed into the net, then, in the space of two seconds, it dulled to a low murmur. Maybe he had been offside? But the instant replay quickly dispelled that notion, and silence settled over the crowded masses at City Hall.

Sitting in the rain, drenched, packed together in the massive plaza like red-clad sardines in the world’s biggest tin, the fans were suddenly miserable. And they needed me. I raised the microphone.

“DAE! HAN-MIN! GUK!”

A few scattered, dispirited claps came to my ears in response, followed by a few half-assed shouts of, “Dae! Han-min! Guk!” I repeated my chant.

“DAE! HAN-MIN! GUK!”

My voice was already ragged only ten minutes into the first half, but I had to keep going. The fans were here from all over the country to cheer their team, and their team was down. So were they. A few more responses came back this time, but not many, so once again, with all the force I could put into it, with rain streaming down my face and perhaps a sense of desperation creeping its way into my voice, I screamed:

“DAE! HAN-MIN! GUK!”

This time a few more shouts were carried to my ears, and the front of the crowd picked up the cheer. “Dae! Han-min! Guk!” Clap, clap-clap, clap. “Dae! Han-min! Guk!” Clap, clap-clap, clap.

But it quickly faded out. This crowd had been completely sapped of energy by the events that had just unfolded on the three-story screen behind me. Considering the driving rain, the heat, and the close quarters, I should have expected nothing less. My throat burning, I took a gulp of water and waited.

Every once in awhile I would try again, and each time the reaction got a bit better. The rain was letting up, and our team had been putting together some good attacks. And finally, late in the first half, we scored.

The reaction was instant and explosive, and I was ready to do my job. Just as the noise was dying down, when people began to think about sitting down and watching the rest of the first half, I raised the microphone once again and belted, to the tune of “Ode to Joy”:

“Daehan-Minguk, Daehan-Minguk, Daehan-Minguk Gloria!”

My throat burning, my lungs crying for air, I kept singing, and the thousands of people packed into the plaza for the game joined in. I was winning again.

***

See, being in charge of leading the cheers for 80,000 screaming fans can be hard! For the record, Korea did lose the game 2-1 and were subsequently eliminated from the World Cup.

Anyways, moving on from Seoul and the World Cup, allow me to describe what the summer weather is like here in Korea. First, imagine soup. Hot soup. Then, imagine that soup is, in fact, your only source of oxygen. Now you’re getting close. Today, the high is expected to reach ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Oh, and it’s humid enough to be hazy. I can’t see the mountains less than two miles away from my school. This is pretty much every day: sweat is unavoidable, but you can’t really tell if you’re sweating or if it’s moisture in the air condensing on your skin. So be thankful for whatever weather you have. ‘Til next time, dear readers, if I don’t melt into a puddle of goo first.