Bungee Jumping in Bundang

Wow, my blog already has twenty solid followers and has accumulated over 400 hits in the course of a week. I realize that this is a minuscule figure in comparison to more established periodicals but it is far more readers than would have digested my college research papers and it’s flattering to know that so many people have read all or parts of what I have to say. Thanks guys.

Ever since I’ve landed in the country I’ve wanted to find some recreation on the extreme side of the spectrum so this weekend Tony and I decided to do a little bungee jumping. We heard about a decent jump at Yuldong Park in Bundang and after meeting in Seoul Station we searched for the 9001 Bus. Seoul Station is enormous, being the central hub for the world’s second largest metropolis, and finding the right bus stop was a daunting challenge unto itself. There were eight or nine stops for the red line buses and they were spread out in sporadic locations over a course of several city blocks. It took nearly an hour and a good deal of guessing while traversing back-and-forth over a huge avenue, but we finally found the conveyance we had been searching for. Neither of us had bungee jumped before so we spent the hour-long bus ride hyping up the expectation, speculating about the height, the drop, the stop, telling each other that we must make graceful, well-seasoned swan dives and not simply flail about like amateurs. Upon arriving in Bundang we hailed a taxi to the park. Opening the door to the white cab Tony inquired, “Yuldong Park?”
The driver didn’t understand.
“Bungee jumping?” tried Tony.
“Oh bungee jumping,” laughed the driver with understanding while motioning for us to get in. Either many foolish tourists had come to this neck of the woods for the same reason or he too enjoyed needlessly risking life and limb.

It was only a short walk into the park before the bungee jumping platform came into view on the other side of a wide lake. We casually made our way around the shoreline, taking in the warm afternoon, wildlife, flora, and sublime demeanor of passer-bys. There was plenty of time to consider the elevation of the platform as we wound are way closer to the structure but so far I was unable to fathom any nervousness or cowardly tendencies. I promised myself that I would not come all this distance only to chicken-out and so far, from this perspective, I felt only eagerness. Strutting up to the admission booth in regal anticipation we declared, “Bungee jumping please.”
“Do you have ticket?” The attendant asked in an exemplary degree of English.
“Um…no,” we replied hesitantly.
“Bungee jumping sold out,” he said coldly, “ come tomorrow.”
Awww…what?! You gotta be kidding me. I was displeased to say the least. We just spent the last two hours on public transportation, building up the excitement, only to be flatly rejected like so much crumpled refuse. How could it be sold out? What is there to be sold out of? Did they run out of bungee? I mean there were four guys sitting behind the desk doing absolutely nothing and it was only three in the afternoon. My frustrations were abundant. We tried to make the best of the situation, wandering the park, taking funny pictures, attempting to appreciate the littered examples of public art (only a small percentage of which were actually any good), but the mood was crushed. The highlight of our weekend had been stripped from us and we could not help but be pessimistic.



We spent a good half hour moping around, thinking about potential activities to offset the disappointment of the afternoon, when our vigorous fighting spirit was reignited. No, we reasoned, we didn’t come all the way out here just to be turned away. If we don’t at least give it one more shot we’ll be doing ourselves a disservice. We marched right up to that ticket counter, chin up, chest out, put our fingers on the desk and…pleaded like children.
“Oh please, please let us bungee jump,” we implored. The man stared at us unamused. We tried playing dumb, offering bribes, anything to get in a harness and up that elevator. Finally, with an exasperated sigh the man in charge asked, “only two?”
“Yes yes, only two,” we replied knowing that we were in. We signed a quick paper, strapped on some Velcro harnesses, and got weighed. We asked if we could take turns going to the top so that one of us could get video from the ground but the staff seemed rushed to get us on our way and since we were already pushing our luck, we dropped the issue of the video. Then we were riding an elevator to the top. Surprisingly, I still did not feel nervous or afraid. On the contrary, I was collected, eager, and rife with anticipation. At the top I stood behind a red line while Tony took the first jump, having won a quick game of Ro-Sham-Bo. When it was my turn I approached the edge while two attendants hooked me up to the intricate cables and weights with the enthusiasm and skill of assembly line workers. It wasn’t until I looked over the lip of the platform that the gravity of the situation truly hit me (pun definitely intended). My heart fluttered and my hands began to shake. The feeling of anticipation was replaced with gut fear. The entire scenario was a contradiction to my basic survival instincts, but I kept my promise to myself and when the man said it was time to jump I took a deep breath and stepped over the edge. It was not the graceful swan dive I had envisioned and as I plummeted I could feel myself flailing about like an amateur. The initial drop was the most intense and scary part of the entire experience. You seem to leave your stomach behind while in free fall and time slows down. You know terrified screams are issuing forth from your diaphragm but it seems a distant drone, masked by sensory overload and acceleration. The fear of death is at its climax as you near the water, all at once nullified by the comforting tension of the rope slowing your descent. Suddenly a huge grin breaks out on your face and your screams are no longer that of horror but exhilaration. Then as the elastic energy building in the rope overcomes that of gravity you are sent hurtling back up into the sky, laughing and screaming for more. Nearing the top of the throw there is a brief, awesome moment of weightlessness and then you plummet once again towards the earth. When there is no more energy in your elastic lifeline you hang dangling over the lake, laughing and clapping as they lower you onto a rowboat. The gentleman piloting the little dingy wasn’t quite quick enough in securing me and I ended up getting wet, which I actually appreciated as the cherry on my adrenaline sundae. Back on the ground I felt as high as a kite. I wish I could do that every morning before going to work. While we took off the harnesses the guys running the show gave us little cards that we could present the next time we came, allowing us to do our next jump only by the ankles if we wanted. Awesome! At only 45 meters high, this platform is clearly for amateurs, but that’s exactly what we are. Before I leave the country I’m definitely seeking out the largest jump I can find. Bungee jumping is too freakin cool!


The bus ride back to Seoul was uneventful and by the time we arrived in the city I felt very tired, theorizing that the one massive surge of adrenaline had completely drained me. We decided to get coffee but weren’t in the mood for overpriced corporate chain java. Instead we sought out the most obscure, back alley coffee house we could find. It ended up being this prissy, upscale tearoom with hand stitched couches, classical music, porcelain cups, and doilies, but it was privately owned and the coffee was superb. Rachael, you would be proud.

Having been rejuvenated we were back out on the street. We heard weird music up ahead and made our way towards it. The tune ended up being the last thing we would have expected. It was a handicapped man in an electric wheelchair/ karaoke machine hybrid. He was belting Korean Pop Music at the top of his lungs and drawing quite a crowd. Admiring the man’s courage, heart, and entertainment value I left a generous donation.

Over the mountain we could see that gigantic spire that had reminded me of a James Bond villain’s lair the last time we were in Itaewon (it's actually called North Seoul Tower), so we resolved to make our way to the top. I could go into detail about the bustling market we walked through or the thousands of steps we climbed up the mountain, but we were there for the view and the pictures tell the story better. Enjoy!




After the long hike down the mountain a beer at the nearest Family Mart seemed like a spot on idea. As we neared downtown seeking out cheap suds we happened upon thousands of police officers, getting off buses and gathering in a central square. They were all decked out in riot gear with shields, clubs, and helmets as if in preparation for enforcing martial law, and yet the city could not have been more at peace. We could have made guesses straight through the night as to what all the manpower was for but at the end of the day we’ll never really know. Still, I couldn’t leave without getting a picture.

I’d like to thank the guys at TheYeogiyo.com again because I couldn’t have found my way to Bundang without their help. You guys do great work. Thanks you. Another Korean weekend successfully seized.

Cool Thing About Korea #9: Funny T-Shirts with grammatically incorrect and largely nonsensical English phrases. Some notable examples include My Karma Ran Over My Dogma, I Am Dot Man Dressing, Living for Sneakers, One Turn Over Entirety, Stand Up and Victorious, and many more.

Chilbo Middle School

There is a great site for expats called TheYeogiyo.com. It is an invaluable resource whether you are new to the country or have been here a long time. I personally met the people behind it and find them to be so friendly and helpful. They organize great trips, have a fantastic forum, and will generally go out of their way to help you with anything. Check them out!


Well, I've been in one the most video game saturated cultures in the world for going on six weeks now with nothing but a broken XBOX 360. The new 220v power supply I needed finally arrived from Hong Kong despite some shipping difficulties and yesterday I managed to fire up the big black idiot box for the first time since stepping off the plane. Believe me when I say that I would much rather be wasting away the last few hours of my evening in a listless pursuit of experience points, but I did promise you loyal readers a commentary on my school, so here you are.

Allow me to start at the beginning of the day. My alarm goes off daily at 7 a.m. because I tell myself that I will get up early, make a real breakfast, and do some leisure reading. Instead I sleep another forty minutes, take a quick shower, and rush out the door with an orange and a can of coffee. The bus stop is a short jaunt from the apartment. There I catch bus #13 (which is always filled with my students who have far more energy than I can muster at that particular time of day) and arrive promptly by 8:30a.m.

Chilbo Middle School is a three story red-brick institution, L-Shaped and beautifully landscaped. The building lies surrounded by several thousand acres of ripped and churned umber earth, a fertile canvas that will one day support sky-scrapers and apartment complexes. The property immediately outlining Chilbo, however, is green, blossoming, and meticulously cared for. Exotic red flowers, winding trees, and fringed shrubbery wisely conceal alluring wooden and stone carvings along a wide path to the entrance.

When I reach my class room there is a Korean newspaper printed in English waiting for me. If it's Monday or Tuesday I don't have a class until 3rd period so I usually check my e-mail, Facebook, and the hit counter on my blog before doing anything remotely productive. I have four classes a day, and they are mostly enjoyable. Basically I make up cool games and try to get the kids to speak English by bribing them with candy. This week we played Bingo. Next week I'm going to try a cool game I read about called Monkeys & Bananas...I'll let you know how it goes. I see nearly 800 students a week and every once in a while one student will get offended that I don't remember their name. I always just say sorry but I mean come on...it would be hard to remember that may names in English. At 12:35p.m. I join the faculty for lunch. There is always rice, kimchi, and soup though the entree varies. The food is superb for free...interpret that however you like.

At 4:30 the day is over and I split. On Tuesdays and Fridays I have an extra class during 7th period. One class is teachers who want to improve their English and the other is students who have volunteered because they actually like to learn. Both of these classes have less than 10 pupils and I find them to be a lot of fun because I can keep it informal and we laugh a lot.

There are some small differences between Korean schools and American schools that I'll discuss briefly. Firstly, everyone takes off their shoes before coming in the building and puts on flip flops which is both cleaner and more comfortable. Secondly, the students clean everything from the desks and chalkboards to the bathrooms and floors. They should have that in the States because it discourages vandalism and everything always looks beautiful. There is a janitor, Mr. Kim, but he just runs photo copies, fixes stuff, and tells me jokes that don't make sense (but I laugh anyway because of the intonation with which they were delivered). Sometimes students get beat with a stick because they're being disrespectful or won't be quiet. It's really no big deal and the ones who get it usually deserve it. In some of my rowdy second grade classes I often find myself wishing that the co-teacher would lean into it a little more because those kids just don't shut up no matter what. A friend of mine told me the other night that he once gave a kid the option to get beat or do push-ups and the kid said he would rather get beat. They are just so desensitized to it.

The only thing else worth mentioning since my last entry is that I went to see Terminator Salvation in Suwon Station. I won't bore you with my feelings about the movie (except that it was awesome) as many of you may have seen it by now, but the Korean movie experience is worth mentioning. This particular theater of the CGV chain is on the sixth floor of a shopping mall. When you purchase a ticket you select a particular seat like at a concert or sporting event. Also, the theaters are bigger and louder than anything I've ever seen in the states. It just may be the best atmosphere in which I've had the opportunity to enjoy giant robots, machine gun fire, explosions, and high speed pursuits. Well, thanks again for reading. I'll be back.

Cool Thing About South Korea #8: It's not North Korea

Pubway

Former South Korean President Roo Moo-hyun is dead, having committed suicide by jumping into a ravine behind his house. Roo, who was known for being a clean politician and fighting corruption during his term of office, has recently been interrogated for accepting nearly 6 million in bribes. The news of Roo’s death is a historic landmark, having flooded the Korean media, and it is the tone with which I began an unforgettable weekend.

The plan was to tour the DMZ between the North and South Korean borders with a friend I have in Seoul. Between the Third Tunnel (a passageway supposedly dug by North Korea in preparation for an invasion to the south) and various observatories for looking into the communist nation, the weekend was intended to be a relaxing, educational tour of a historically significant geographical location. This was not how it turned out. I can pinpoint the exact moment when the anticipated timeline of the weekend deviated from its foreseen course. I was walking into the post office because I needed to mail in some forms for student loan consolidation when I brushed past another foreigner, the first I’d seen in my neighborhood. We exchanged a polite nod as I walked by and I was prepared to continue about my business, when the notion that an opportunity might have been presented occurred to me. I did an about face and ducked out the post office door in time to catch the foreigner mounting a red scooter. “Hey,” I began to inquire, “is that bike 125cc’s?”

My last-minute greeting paid out in dividends as over the next few days I was introduced to a number of Canadian, American, and British foreigners living in my neighborhood. Finally, the beginnings of a social network in this far off land were beginning to take shape. In addition to a handful of English speakers with which to pass the time, my new acquaintances informed me that an annual event known simply as Pubway would be taking place over the weekend and that nearly fifty other foreigners would be in attendance. Well, I rationalized, the DMZ isn’t going anywhere and I sure could use an opportunity to increase my social circle.

Before any of that however, it had become strikingly obvious that any attempt to integrate with this ramshackle collection of adventurers would prove futile or compounded by difficulties without having a Korean cell phone. Acknowledging this fact, I made my way to Suwon Station where I’d encountered a plethora of cell phone retailers. The operation of these outlets continues to perplex because of their abundance and close proximity towards one another. In the basement of the train station alone there is easily twenty mobile phone stores, their glass cases packed to the gills with first and second hand devices while employees stand jaded and unoccupied. It seems obvious that there is too much competition, but they soldier on day after day. I picked a shabby looking store across the street from the station because I liked that it was an independent shop and the owner spoke some English. For 100,000 Won I managed to get a tight little Samsung slider and two months of service. Plus, it’s only 5,000 a month after that. Can’t get that kind of deal in the states.

So Saturday finally rolled around and a group of six of us got on a bus to Seoul to begin the Pubway tour. The premise is to start in Seolleung, the beginning of the Yellow Line, and at every stop grab a beer at the nearest convenience store before moving on. It was actually an endurance run of sorts and while somewhat juvenile and dangerous it proved to be a fantastic way to make friends. Foreigners from all over the place were in attendance; Americans, Canadians, South-Africans, Swedes, Australians, Brits. It was enlightening to mingle with such a diverse group of people and I can't think of a single moment that was unexciting. The day was sunny, warm, and the first few stops proved relaxing, arriving in scenic urban centers or parks. There was Frisbee, racing up the wrong way of the longest escalators ever installed in a subway, and climbing large examples of corporate artwork.

We were halfway down the yellow line at nine-o-clock when a gargantuan foreigner draped in a multi-colored woolen poncho, cowboy hat, and known only as Bone, suggested having Gaegogi for dinner. For those of you who have never heard of Gaegogi it is in fact dog meat. Though technically illegal, there are certain areas where those daring enough can go to experience the grittier aspects of Korean culture. Gaegogi is rare and expensive and if you plan on visiting Korea you need not worry about accidentally being served dog at an ordinary restaurant. Bone led us through a labyrinth of poor houses and shacks, every step taking us further from the familiar comforts of downtown and into a nefarious underground. We emerged from the alleyways into a large open market, dead quiet and abandoned for the evening. Our saunter past empty carts, empty tents, and empty tables was eerie and illuminated only by the light of the moon. As we progressed we saw the cages, half covered by canvas tarpaulins and hidden in the dark recesses of shoddy enclosures. The captives, brown medium-sized canines packed nose to tail, watched us in silence. The expressions of the condemned were those of complacency and acceptance.

Coming to the far end of the vacant bazaar there was a single restaurant offering light and asylum from the barren expanse. It was built in the traditional Korean style and as I removed my shoes I couldn’t help but notice the huge cauldrons of ribs and rendered fat. The four of us who were brave enough to come this far sat and sipped a fruity wine while Bone ordered in well-rehearsed Korean. We were the only patrons in the establishment and as we joked, waiting for our order to arrive, I searched my conscience for a moral conflict and could find none. Instead I was tingling with the excitement of trying something new, exotic, and taboo. There are those disgusted with the thought of eating a dog, associating the animal with a loving pet. Having accepted the act of consuming another being as a natural means of survival and in no way malicious, I harbor no such sentiments. Weather it’s cow, pig, or dog…food is food.

The three courses that arrived were steaming spicy and fragrant. There was soup, a gigantic plate of dark carved meat the size of a Thanksgiving turkey, and thick cuts of prime rump with chives. My first bite was electric and stimulating, the texture being sinewy and very fat with a mild hint of saltiness. It was juicy, tender, and slid right off the bone. The general attitude amongst my compatriots and I was that of flippancy and humor. There was still a good deal of meat on the table after our bellies were full and as the conversation began to drift towards rejoining the group at the next station I couldn’t help myself, “Miss,” I called, motioning towards the table, “could we get a doggy bag please?”

We caught up with the group around eleven-o-clock. By now the weaker members had surrendered to fatigue and we’re en route to their respective homes on the metro. Those who remained were gathered in the parking lot of a GS25 mini-mart, rambunctiously floundering about in perpetual merriment and animation. Whatever sensations of languor I might have felt earlier were abolished in wake of a hearty, nurturing meal. They say that Korean men dine on Gaegogi for its properties of strength and vitality. Perhaps it was a mental placebo, but I felt charged and rife with energy. Some were content to dilly-dally in the same location, but I was restless. I found three others who shared by passion to move forward and together we took on the night. With four stops left the metro shut down so we continued onward using cabs. Korean nights are filled with life and energy, the trek continued in an unorganized, rapid stride. The last stop on the yellow line was dark and empty, located on a cold stretch of vacuous highway. Of fifty people who started this mad quest four of us actually completed it. From noon until four a.m., it took sixteen crazy hours to finish. With a vigorous lassitude we crawled from our final taxi, finished our last beer, and took a picture for evidence to combat any naysayers. After a round of handshakes and a hasty goodbye I rode a cab back to Suwon, alone, exhausted, and with an awesome sense of accomplishment. Another Korean weekend successfully seized!

Update 5/27/09: It has come to my attention that there were several more members of the original group who finished Pubway at 6a.m. following a Norebang detour and extracting a team mate from the police station. Awesome job guys. Your endurance in commendable.
Cool Thing About Korea #7: Issacs Toast

Happy Birthday Colton!

This entry is dedicated to Colton, Jenn, and Scott. Thank you for bringing life and love into the world. As the day wore on and I anticipated a chance to do some writing, my mind was occupied with the task of conjuring insightful sentiments, allegories, or themes in which I could relate the content of this posting to the profound miracle of birth. Since my creativity fails me, I’m afraid I can offer but a maudlin recollection of my friends Jenn and Scott to set a tone for this latest chronological account. Though a sound thesis and structure evades my ingenuity, know that my words are from the heart.

I’ve known Scott all though college and for the most part he was but a casual associate, the type of guy I would run into at an obscure social function. I was always surprised with the amount of friends he had that turned out to be mutual acquaintances. It wasn’t until a week in North Carolina, midway through my senior year, that Scott became one of my best friends. I remember campfires on the beach, a 24 –7 karaoke joint known simply as The Jolly Roger, and the fact that we both digested The Road in a matter of days. The rest of that summer was highlighted by swimming in the Brandywine, rooftop parties, and developing life long relationships. Scott met his fiancé that summer and while I didn’t know Jenn well, being that she was outside of my immediate social circle, it was impossible to ignore the positive impact she left on my friend. Scott went from being a full-time hippie and pushin’ pizzas with the likes of me, to straightening up and getting a career that many of us are envious of. Jenn, we had some memorable times together as well and I’ll never hesitate to call you my friend or swing halfa’ broken beer bottle on your side of a bar fight, but more than anything I love you for the change you’ve made in Scott. The guy went from being a carefree juvenile to a conscientious man. When I saw the pictures of Colton from the other side of the world I’ll admit that I began to tear, overtaken with the incontrovertible reality and joy of the situation. The smile on my face was such that I can’t fathom the reaction I’ll experience when I am in the same position. You’re both going to make awesome parents and I’m anxious for the day when Uncle Eric can be with your family in person. I’ll always be there if you need me, thanks for the friendship, and Happy Birthday Colton!

So on Saturday, after I got the news from Scott, I went to Korean BBQ with Charlie where I insisted we drink numerous toasts to my friends and their newborn. Later in the evening I decided to finally uncover some places in this town where foreigners hang out. In Suwon Station I wandered from place to place, transfixed by the neon lit throng reeling through the streets. I found English speakers in a matter of minutes, military personnel mostly. We strolled from one club to the next, exchanging stories and forgetting names. In one club we perplexedly discussed the strange dancing rituals laid out on the strobe lit floor before us. If you happened to be a Korean man you couldn’t just go up to a Korean girl and start dancing, but rather the girls would dance with each other while the guys danced with each other and over time gravity would pull the two spiraling masses into a suitable proximity. It looked awkward and very much like a middle school dance. If you were on the other hand, an American, you need not bother with these trivial formalities as both sexes were equally interested in your awesome foreign moves and flocked to shake it right next to you.

On Sunday I rode the tube back to Itaewon to meet Tony, a West Chester University graduate with whom I have mutual acquaintances. We had lunch, walked around the shopping district, and eventually explored the Korean War Memorial and museum. There is this really huge Cold-Warish spire mounted atop a nearby mountain that reminds me of a James Bond villian's lair. I’d like to say that, while inside the museam, I paid attention to artifacts of historical importance and mind-blowing statistics about however many of this or that nationality died in whatever war, but I was more concerned with having an English conversation and getting to know someone who can relate to Jakes on Matlack Street. Still, the military museum did instill an amazement in me as to how many creative ways our species has invented to destroy each other. Since I am apathetic towards describing the rest of that day in words I’ll let the following pictures do the talking. Oh, the Turtle Boat was the coolest part.

As my camera is now fully functional I decided to spend my Monday afternoon walking the perimeter of Hwaseong Fortress and taking pictures. It really is an awesome place, being built towards the end of the 18th Century in honor of some guy who was murdered by being locked in a rice chest for failing to commit suicide. Yeah…I really don’t know. I’ve seen a scale model of the fortress back when it enclosed all of Suwon, but the town has since, vastly overgrown its boundary. While the main gates and the majority of the wall remain intact, there are portions that are destroyed or lie concealed in grimy back alleys. I think it was meant to be a relocation of the capital Seoul, but this is not a history lesson. If you have further interest in Hwaseong Fortress click here, otherwise just check ou these snapshots.

Today was cool. My classes went very well following a revision of my lesson plan and Ms. Huh says she’s pleased with my performance, claiming I am both professional and a quick learner. Also figured out how to transfer money through my bank accounts but at present, you get screwed with the exchange rate. After school I decided to get some exercise and ran to the top of Chilbo Mountain. I hiked the ridge but took an unfamiliar trail down and got lost on the wrong side of the divide. As the sun was setting I was loath to return to the wooded confines of Chilbo, so I set off across the rice patties. Coming around to the southeast I happened upon a construction site and decided to cut across, my mental compass assuring me that it would save me valuable time. The site was massive, easily a mile across with deep gulleys and littered with Samsung earthmovers. The center featured the complex foundations of unborn skyscrapers and soaring golden cranes that dominated the region like thin, mechanical sentinels. Halfway across the barren expanse the earth was cut down to thick red-clay for as far as the eye could see. Aside from the odd tent here and there, the flat, red sea was devoid of human activity and for a few moments I could picture myself on Mars. I paused in my trek as the local squadron of F-16s screamed overhead, a low-altitude treat that I’ve yet to tire of. Eventually I found my way out of the torn, prepped earth and back in civilization.

It’s late now and in a few hours I’ll be waking for school. Before I go, let me extend a final Happy Birthday to Colton, I have no doubt that you will be one of the most enjoyable people I’ll have the pleasure of knowing in this life.

Cool Thing About Korea #6: Turtle Boats

Online and Feelin Fine

This is a very special blog entry. That is because I am composing it in the comfort of my own apartment, on my very own Internet connection. I know that may sound trivial to everyone back home, but consider your only outlets to the world being the unreliable wireless connections at a public library or local coffee shop. Imagine sitting on a cold park bench in the dead of night, waiting patiently to acquire a weak signal just to manage a bank account or hear a friendly word from home. Well no longer. Thanks to finally receiving my Alien Registraction Card, I now have super-fast broadband streaming right to my desk, enabling me to conduct oversees affairs with ease, compose blogs more efficiently, quickly finish lesson plans, pirate digital media, and more importantly run Skype.

To those of you who have never heard of Skype before, it is an invaluable Internet service that allows me to keep in contact with friends and family back home. Through Skype I am able to have unlimited conversations with the people I love via a Pennsylvania phone number. Family in PA can even call me without racking up long distance charges. Three months of this service costs only $32! If you're a friend of mine and want to have a chat with your old buddy, send a message to my e-mail or Facebook and I'll give you the number and suggested times to call. Additionally, Skype provides free video conferencing between two people who have webcams. I've been using it to talk to my parents already and it is fantastic. If your interested in video conferencing with me simply download Skype and search my name. You'll also need a webcam but I've seen them as cheap as $30 at Bestbuy or even $8 on e-Bay. But, this blog is starting to sound like an advertisement, let's get into the good stuff.

The students had a field trip this week so I only had two full days of classes on Monday and Tuesday. On Wednesday and Thursday I got paid to hang out in my classroom, reading and relaxing. A wise man would have put together next weeks lesson plan but I just couldn't get interested. I'm paying for that now, using my Saturday morning to paste GIFs and JPEGs into slate-blue Power Point slides.

Friday was absolutely awesome because the 3rd Graders went to an amusement park called Everland and I got to tag along. It doesn't matter how you cut it, no day where you get to go to an amusement park and get full pay can ever be bad. The trip started out by boarding six red coach buses. I hate to bore you with more commentary regarding the exceptional nature of Korean bus drivers but they really are quite skillful. Instead of each driver taking command of a solitary vehicle, the six coachmen act as a team, conquering the road as a single unit. Coming to a red light at a busy intersection? No problem, the two lead busses run blocks on the oncoming lanes, allowing time for the rest of the convoy to catch up and make the turn before pulling up the rear. On the highway, the convoy operates with the efficiency of a Special Forces squadron, controlling the fast lane, forcing out slow vehicles, maintaining a tightly knit and unstoppable complement.

Well, we finally arrived at Everland and after a few minutes of formalities I was turned loose to use the day as I pleased. I wish that I could give this park my full endorsement and as with all experiences in Korea I try to maintain a positive outlook, but the morning here was really quite a dissapointment. The park had three roller coasters to offer; the T-Express, the Eagles Fortress, and the Rolling X-Train, but every single one of them was "cancelled due to inspection." What a load of poop. If I had paid for my ticket I would have been really angry. I tried to make the best of it and sought out the pirate ship...I mean you can't go wrong with a pirate ship right? Like many theme parks, Everland is divided into distinguishable territories. There was the European Adventure, Zoo-Topia, Global Fair, Magic Land, and American Adventure. American Adventure was half 1950's Americana and half Wild West. The Wild West was great. It had conestoga wagons, mine carts, tumble weeds, saloons, and...a pirate ship? Yes that's right, they put the pirate ship ride in the middle of the Wild West and the worse part was that the ride was called Columbus Adventures. Oh, actually I remember that from history class. Yeah, Christopher Columbus sailed his fleet right up the Mississippi, over the great plains, and into the hot, arid deserts of New Mexico. The ride actually had two pendullum ships, the Nina and the Santa Maria...I guess the Pinta was drawing a deep keel and bottomed out in a river delta on it's voyage to the American west. The line was unnecessarily long, most likely because all of the roller coasters were closed. I waited an hour and a half just to get on the thing, and given that it was probably the biggest, most exciting pirate ship I'd ever ridden, it was still hardly worth the wait.

Afterwards I was pretty hungry so I used my lunch ticket at this reproduction burger joint. There was so many hungry people and the staff was so underprepared that it took over an hour just to get a crappy burger and a coke. I wandered around the park, dissatisfied, trying to make lemonade out of lemons but not coming across any sugar when...hmmm is that a movie theatre? And it's showing Star Trek. And it's only 5000 Won! Well, actually I walked all around the building looking for a box office to buy my ticket and could find none so I just walked right it. There were no stewards or ticket takers to stop me so...free Star Trek! I hate to say that I spent an afternoon at an amusement park watching a movie but trust me, it beat another hour long line waiting for the Tilt-a-Whirl.

I would love to tell you what an awesome movie Star Trek is but this isn't a movie review and many of you have probably seen it for yourselves. Regardless, I left that theatre with a deep sense of satisfaction, reasoning that if a free movie was the best part of my day than it was infinate times better than actual work. I made my way to Zoo-Topia, watching animals, enjoying the warm afternoon and the delighted cryptic energy of 20,000 Korean thrill-seekers. I passed by the polar bears and large cats, noticed that they were mangy and their enclousures were less than 1/4 of what they would enjoy at the Philadelphia Zoo. I felt bad for them.

I stood at a wooden railing watching a bunch of monkeys, savoring the present adventures and the anticipation of future ones. There was a patch of bamboo growing out of a hilled slope, running down to the southern end of the park. The monkeys played, jumped, and howled at one another, diving through the bamboo, and over branches when...wait. Movement...distantly through the trees...is that?...no...oh yes, it's the T-Express roller coaster and it was running. I quickly made my way to towards the ride which claimed to be the steepest wooden roller coaster in the world. A sign said that it would be a 90 minute wait. It was 2:30p.m. and the bus would leave at 4:00p.m. so I had just enough time. As I approaced the entrance I was stopped by an attendant who asked how tall I was. I told her 6'4", which did not help her any as Korea is on the metric system. She took me to a measuring stick on the wall and saw that I was only 4 centimeters under the maximum allowable height. She looked me over with this chin-scratching gaze like when you can't decide whether to get the regular or King size fries. After a moment or two of unsure consideration she reluctantly waved me through the gate. I have to admit that the added possibility of decapitation only compounded my titillation.

Approaching the front of the line the operator called me out of the crowd because he needed a single individual to fill an empty seat at the very front of the train. Must have been my lucky day. My fellow passenger was a 15-year-old Korean kid who called himself James. He could not stop laughing and high-fiving me. As the train clanked up the first incline he turned to me and in broken English said, "You must scream loud with me all the way."
"You got it James," I replied. I don't think that the T-Expess was slinging bull in it's claim to be the steepest wooden roller coaster in the world. The first plunge was so steep that it felt inverted, as if we were almost going upside down. The hair-pin turns, stomach lurching drops, and shaky wooden ride were the best I think I've ever enjoyed in a roller coaster. One ride on this coaster was enough (in my eyes) to redeem Everland for an otherwise crappy morning. After the ride James and I each bought a souvenir picture and signed each others. I usually don't fork over money for such things but it was only 5,000 Won and I needed something to remember the good times with one of the coolest Korean kids I've met to date. Also kind of needed something to post on the blog so you people don't think I'm making this all up.

I have to say that it has been a fantastic week. I had some memorable times, the Internet works, I opened a checking account, got paid, and by accident managed to get my camera working again! Word up. There is also exciting news from back home. One of the coolest baristas at Fennario coffee, Meghan, got married yesterday so if you read this Meg congratulations and best of luck with your future. Also, I heard that a few hours ago my friend Jenn went into labor which means my best pal Scott Harris is going to be a father. Can't wait to hear the good news guys and hopefully feature some pictures next blog post.

Cool Thing About Korea #5: Almost every public building has doors that open in both directions. Why didn't we think of that?