Gwangju: Barely Scraping the Surface

It’s nothing but a beautiful Monday night. Had a great day at school and I’m happy to say that this week’s lesson is going swimmingly. I can’t understand why teachers in the U.S. have to student teach for an entire semester. I feel confidant enough playing the part in a little over a week. Generally I just think up concepts that I know I would want to learn should I become stranded in a nation whose language I am not familiar with. This week we’re discussing how to ask for and receive directions. Maybe next week we’ll move on to how one tells time, but I’ll give it more serious consideration around Thursday or Friday. It’s such a pleasure when a student who appears so perplexed finally understands what I’m talking about. Many of the students seem eager to learn and put a good deal of effort into class but there are a couple kids who seem as if they could care less. I can understand that feeling as I remember being apathetic in my adolescent years and while I sympathize I still make it a point to pick on them and call them out in front of the rest of the class. If I can get those kids to say even the poorest sentence in English I feel like I’ve succeeded.
So after school I put on some shorts and flip flops, dialed in 2Pac on my trusty IPod, and set out on an expedition. More of an exercise in getting lost than anything else. I stopped at the E-Mart on the way to get a battery for my camera. Halfway through my weekend it refused to power on any longer and won’t take a charge, so at least I’m hoping it’s just a battery. My electronics seem cursed in this country. Maybe they’re susceptible to the yellow dust from China. Well, after a quick game of charades with the store clerk it was determined that E-Mart simply did not carry the particular piece I was looking for. In honesty, I didn’t expect much. It’s hard enough finding one of these Lithium-Ion jobs in a region where English is the status quo. If I can’t figure this thing out you can expect future blogs to have fewer visuals. But I’m probably starting to bore you. Allow me to describe the coolest weekend in Korea yet.
Despite a strong and well-rehearsed inclination towards sleeping late on Saturday mornings, I managed to drag myself out of bed and catch a bus to the train station a little before 8:00 a.m. Once aboard Korail 1116 to Gwangju I tried to go back to sleep but found the scenery too stunning to ignore. Outside the city limits the bulk of Korea is simply gorgeous farmland flowing from one ridge of mountains to another. There are no rolling hills or medium geography whatsoever. It is either flat, worked agriculture or dense rising mountains. Neat, regulated farmhouses lie in disorganized settlements, plotted spontaneously at prescribed intervals. Perfectly furrowed mounds comprise misshaped fields. Man’s touch is obvious yet nature dominates. It is truly order in chaos.
So after four hours of trying to conceive profound poetic phrases for an endless stream of shacks and soybean fields I finally arrived in Gwangju. Carlos met me at the train station and I was thrilled to see a face I recognized, let alone one that spoke English. Before I continue I would like to thank both Carlos and Steph for being the most gracious, accommodating hosts that one could ask for. I had a fantabulous (Do you know Microsoft Word won’t flag this as being misspelled?! It even gives a definition!) time this weekend and it’s all thanks to you guys. I had such a blast that I was barely aware it rained all Saturday night. Oh and their new puppy, Peaty Con Carne is adorable.
So I could go through the whole weekend in chronological order but that would be rather boring and some of the pictures I managed to take tell the story better, so I’ll stick to the highlights. I met this cool guy Mark who is probably the best thing to ever come out of Nebraska and seems to be the type of person I could discuss corn with for decades to come. We went to an outdoor market that sold everything from fresh produce and boiled cockroaches to pig’s heads, live octopus, and stingray. In the early afternoon we went to the bar that Carlos works at called The Speakeasy, and started the evening off with the smoothest drafts I’ve had since I left the States. Then it was over to some seafood restaurant for appetizers and Fruit Soju. The name of the place evades me but I feel it was something like Charred Fish, Burnt Halibut, or Cooked Cod. I’m probably wrong on all counts. Later we went to a traditional Korean BBQ. You cook the meat on a little grill right at your table and roll it into little lettuce wraps with sautéed onions and other fixins. It was delicious and I’m sure it will become a staple entrée over the next year.
As the night wore on we found ourselves at the best club I have ever been to. Period. It was called Super Club Houze so I have to assume that it was established by the hippest group of 12-year-olds ever. It was a 10,000 Won cover but that included free beer. Yeah that’s right. Let’s see them match that deal in the States. The DJ’s we’re sick; spinning everything from Korean pop and 80’s club classics to Drum & Bass and techno. Mindlessly we jumped though the crowd, lost in a shower of strobes, sweat, and synthesizers.
Eventually we left Super Club Houze but by that point I was more following the crowd than making conscious decisions regarding the outcome of the evening. We made it back to The Speakeasy where I had a heart to heart with the owner Derek (who came for the 2002 World Cup and never left) and ended up wrestling the manger Tony. It was great. The best part about Korean bars is that they don’t close at 2 a.m. like in the States but rather whenever the customers stop buying.
The sun finally came out on Sunday and we took full advantage of the day by strolling up through the nearby park and exploring the local Buddhist temple. Also, Carlos let me ride the scooter he just bought and I’m dead set on acquiring one of my own. It’s more fun than a rope swing in August.
Well I have the day off tomorrow so I’m going to go explore the local fortress with a buddy of mine. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix my camera before my next blog entry. Next weekend is the DJ festival in Seoul so you can look forward to my insightful commentary regarding that particular event. Reading over this I don’t feel as if it’s my most rhetorically commanding or well formatted entry to date but in all honesty I’d rather go stroll around Suwon than do any revision tonight. I feel it could be better but I’m posting it anyway. You be the judge. Thanks for reading friends and family.

Cool Thing About Korea #3: McDonalds Delivers.

Hiking Chilbo Mountain

Today is my first Saturday in Korea. I've decided to venture to Seoul some other time as it is rather rainy and overcast, though this will by no means prevent me from venturing out into the fascinating countryside. I'll have my revenge transit system! My neighborhood is close to Chilbo Mountain and Ms. Huh told me that it's possible to walk there. Mmmm....it looks kinda far but whatever, not like I have anything better to do. So after some eggs and spam I threw together a pack with an extra sweater, some granola bars, and water. Then donning my trusty jacket and IPod I walked out into the cold, grey morning. I didn't have directions to the mountain, but that's half the fun really. I just got on a main road, kept the target in my sights, and pressed forward. The first stage of the walk was through agricultural land and I took this cool picture of a tractor.
Yeah I know it's nothing special but I think it looks nice. And it's my blog so deal with it. So after walking through these fields you eventually get to this small little stretch of town. It's only like another mile walk before you're back out in the fields again but the little borough was interesting in that it seemed to blend the opposing qualities of quaint and fast paced. You can try to imagine the urban aspects of Suwon as paint splattered on a canvas of agricultural land. Most of the urban area is concentrated in the middle but there are specks and blotches of city life away from the primary mass, separated by fields and farmland. I hope that helps you understand but if you can think of a better metaphor e-mail me and I'll revise this.


The walk continued past abundant acres of cultivation and when the entirety of the mountain was in view I manged to take this cool panorama shot. It looks better if you click to enlarge.
Nearing the base of the mountain things began to get a little confusing, as the area was populated with small businesses and homes and I didn't want to trespass through anyone's property in order to get up the mountain. I spent some time walking up and down the wrong roads trying to figure out where to go. The area was interesting in that it seemed to have been an older village at one time, but when new businesses and homes were built they didn't bother to tear down any of the condemned dwellings. Here and there you would see these wood and dirt constructed shacks, crumbling under their own weight and in disarray.


I spent a good half hour trying to find an entrance or access road to the mountain but was without luck. Again, another instance when it would have helped a great deal to have been able to read. Eventually I came upon a map positioned on a corner where I saw that damned Bus 13 coming to a stop. I was able to determine that I was near access point B by it's relative closeness to some apartment high rises within view a couple hundred yards away. I then conceived a system for navigating up the mountain. Though I could not read I could recognize symbols so I decided to pick one symbol that looked promising and every time I saw it I would take a picture with my camera. This would help so I wouldn't get lost. I picked the symbol right above points B and C on the map. In my head I remembered it as, "Two Circles on Top of Each Other, Guy With a Hat, and Atari Logo." Following a road I came to a fork with a sign and sure enough there was the symbols pointing to the right.
Success! I kept following the rural trail and was eventually greeted by yet another sign directing me again to follow the road to the right.
Moving along the road I noticed that it had begun to incline and the foliage was noticeably more dense. I was sure that I had found an access road to Mt. Chilbo and my suspicions were confirmed when I came upon this beautiful temple.
It was really quite astounding and I wished that I understood it's significance. There are so many things that I am ignorant about here. As people left the temple I noticed that they turned and bowed to the entrance before going on their way. There was also this giant metal bell with intricate artwork that was really quite impressive. There were various people praying at shrines but I choose not to approach them as I am ignorant to their customs and did not want to offend anyone. As I was climbing the steps to the mountain path I happened to see the symbols I had followed and if I had to guess, I would assume that they are the name of the particular temple.
I choose the most secluded path up the mountain and did not encounter another person the entire way. It was really quite peaceful. I would have to say that the foliage is not very different from that of Pennsylvania and for a few moments I could actually imagine that I was hiking a section Worlds End State Park. There were these beautiful purple flowers growing along the trail that I had to get a picture of.

Nearing the top, the tree cover broke and standing on a rocky outcrop I could see all of Suwon down in the valley, as far out as the next set of mountain ranges which must be miles away. Though it was cloudy and humid the view was spectacular and humbling. I stood there for several moments in awe, thinking about how small I am on this world, how magnificent an opportunity it was to come here, and other profound sentiments.

Approaching the summit, the dirt trail gave out and I was forced to shuffle over a smooth and arguably precarious rock face. I reached the top with a huge smile on my face and a feeling of satisfaction. Perched on the summit was a wooden pagoda and I sat and took out some water. As I pealed an orange I thought about Rachael and wished that she was here to see this. If she comes to visit I'll drag her up here to take in the scenery. On the summit it's possible to see the country for miles in every possible direction. To the north there is a radio tower but you can't get close to it because it's fenced off and guarded by the military. There are foxholes all around the perimeter as if awaiting an eventual attack. It must be important.

Hiking the ridge there are cool little work out spots and places to just meditate. I met a lot of people both coming to and hiking the mountain and I had time to practice my foreigner greeting. I found that if you try to say hello to anyone other than kids in English they usually just give you a dirty look or ignore you. However, if you keep your foreigner mouth shut and politely bow you more often than not receive a bow in return and a polite smile, sometimes even an approving word or two.

Hiking down was just as fun as hiking up and I found a natural mineral spring where I couldn't help filling up my water bottle. It was so crisp and delicious. I took a different trail to get down the mountain and at the base I passed some very expensive looking houses, even by American standards. They were completely walled in compounds and appeared to be self-sustaining. Most had solar panels on the roofs and a few also had wind turbines. Additionally, they all had tanks that appeared to collect rainwater from the roofs.

So that's my adventure. As I sit in the library typing this today I was approached by many interesting people. One gentleman introduced himself as Charlie and his English is pretty good. he said that he's an English teacher at a local high school and we agreed to have dinner together tomorrow. I've come to expect thus far that it is the youth who primarily speak English around here so I was surprised when a man who appeared to be ninety years old came up to me and said with an almost perfect English accent, "Hello, I am Dae Quen Lee. I live in Suwon and I am at your service." I was just as flattered as I was astounded.

Well that's loyal readers. Going to be busy with school over the next couple of days so give some time for another update.

Terror On Bus 13

Tonight we have a tale so terrifying, so completely shocking, that the faint of heart should read no further. This story is rife with danger and peril, an account that puts our hero up against such an insurmountable wall of adversity that any glimmer of hope is instantly vanquished by the desperation of his circumstances. Should you find yourself unable to stomach the details of this narrative…. well, we warned you. But first, these intriguing reflections.


So after going to the school with Ms. Huh (pronounced like “her” kind of), meeting my co-workers, and seeing my classroom, I decided to go get dinner at a traditional Korean restaurant. Of course when I went in no one understood the barbaric noises issuing forth from my gullet so I just grabbed a menu and headed into the dining room. It was the kind of place where the tables are only six inches off the ground, which I’ve never tried but hey, no time like the present. Since I’m a big clumsy American it was hard to get comfortable and everyone in the dining room stared and made fun of me, which doesn’t bother me so much because I try to imagine myself from their perspective, which is probably something like watching an Orca whale try to ride a bicycle. Well, I pointed at something on the menu that looked like beef but the waitress told me I didn’t want that and brought me soup instead. I guess I’ll just trust her judgment. The soup came with eight other bowls with weird pastes, rice and celery sticks. I started picking at each one individually and then just said, “screw it” and dumped all them into the soup. It was delicious. I saw two guys across from me putting back bottle after bottle of Soju and since I never tried it I decided to order one. I thought it would be a lot like sake because they’re both distilled from rice, but it wasn’t. Soju is %20 alcohol and tastes much harsher than sake, but it sure does make the room spin the way you want it to. I could only finish half the bottle because I drink like a little girl.

The next day was my first day of classes. I’ll be teaching 20 classes a week, 4 each day. They went all right I suppose but I felt under prepared. I’m going to spend a lot of time this Sunday getting materials ready for next week. Also met the entire English teaching staff, a group of ladies who seem to socially segregate themselves from the rest of the staff, whether by accident or a function of their profession I don’t know. Maybe I’m just making assumptions. At the moment, these ladies are the only people in this country I know who speak my language. Ms. Huh I already knew. She’s the eldest of the group and goes out of her way to make sure I have everything I need. In two days I already feel like she is very motherly towards me and she seems to maintain a matriarchal position over the other English staff. Miss Sung is a very polite lady, she’s been handling my paperwork and we have good conversations. I learned that she is a Christian, which is cool because as a person with a Christian background I’m anxious to learn how the philosophy has evolved in this culture. As you drive around the city you can see these red neon crucifixes towering over other buildings and Miss Sung tells me that she goes to service every morning at 5 a.m. That’s some freakin’ devotion! Mrs. Yoon (sp?) is nice but she’s very quiet. I don’t think her English is as good as the other professors but she makes up for it in the respect she garners from the students. Though she appears timid on the outside she can silence even the rowdiest room with the subtlest of glares. I think it’s because the students are afraid she’ll beat the crap out of them. Miss Kwon not only has awesome style and is fun to hang out with, but she is a badass disciplinarian. She carries around this wooden stick that she threatens students with or smacks their desk to get them to quiet down. I have to say that one of the things I really want to find in this country is someone who speaks English that I can just knock some beers back with and of all the people I know so far with whom I can communicate, she seem the likeliest candidate.

After the first day of classes the four English ladies took me to this giant mall near Suwon Station to have dinner. I gave up trying to remember my way around after the first twelve escalators. We ate at a place called VIP’s, a chain not unlike Bennigan’s with steaks and a salad bar. Some of the memorable foods I was introduced to include Apple and Octopus salad, shrimp soaked in Mountain Dew (really, I’m not kidding), and these cool little fruit/nuts called Rich (pronounced reech) that are like these soft, translucent, lavender peach things inside a crispy shell. If you told me a year ago that I would be dipping shrimp in Mountain Dew in a Sizzler knockoff with four Korean women whom are my only linguistic tie to the world I would have abruptly cut you off with a smug,” Good day to you sir.”

Okay, so let’s get to the title piece of this post. Today, for the first time I experienced what I would call true terror. I mean an absolute feeling of helplessness. Something you cannot fully appreciate unless you find yourself in the same situation. It was my first day to ride public transportation to school. The English teachers showed me the stop the night before and said to get on bus 13. Okay fine. But then I started seeing buses numbered 13-1, 13-5, 13-7. “Well they’re probably all the same right?” Wrong! It should have only taken about three minutes to get to the school so after twenty minutes had passed I was starting to worry. I tried to tell myself that maybe he circles around to other stops before going to the school. No. After an hour had gone by I was really worrying, especially because Chilbo Middle School lies in developed land on the outskirts of the city and we were now in the center of the metropolis. All the cars looked alike. High-rises blended together in colorful patterns of illegible advertisements and unrecognizable nonsense. There were a score of puzzling city blocks in every direction and everything looked the same. I usually have a good sense of direction but after all the weird turns the bus had taken there was no way I was going to find a landmark or compile my bearings. You take for granted, when navigating an urban area, the ability to read, and without this necessity I realized for the first time in a long time that I was truly lost.

I was hoping the bus would just circle back on the original route and I could get off where I started. It didn’t. It drove all the way to a depot of other buses where they could fuel up and being the only passenger left, the driver motioned for me to get off. I attempted to plead with him in my useless blabber but he only seemed annoyed with me and forced me out the door. So there I stood, miles from anything familiar, surrounded by thousands of people who could not understand me enough to help me, horns blaring, trucks driving. I knew not where to turn. I had no phone and even if I did I had no one to call. I considered the buses but as I watched them it appeared they were not letting passengers on at the depot. When I walked into the yard I only got angry glares. Nor as I walked the streets did I see bus stops in any direction. I crossed a large busy avenue, four lanes wide and packed with turbulent traffic. On the other side was the entrance to the subway. As I looked down the long, dark mouth like staircase I considered this method as an answer to my problems. “No,” I thought, “The map would surely be in Korean and there’s no way the metro runs all the way out to middle school. It would probably just make things worse” As I began walking up the avenue, past countless shops whose wares I could only make guesses about relative to their cryptic signs, I spotted a cab. “Yes that does seem like my best bet” I considered. I did have nearly 300,000 Won in cash, a notable advantage in my otherwise despondent circumstances. The problem was that in order to ride a cab one must give the driver directions and I would bet my wad that the man’s English wasn’t what you might call…plenteous. Well I knew two words in Korean so I hailed the cab. When I got in I said “Chilbo” and then tried to pantomime “close to” before saying “Saw Suwon (West Suwon).” The driver gave a quizzical stare before making a phone call. Whatever it was he talked about on the phone I’ll never know but as soon as he hung up he looked at me confidently in the rearview mirror and with the most dramatic, John Wayne voice, he let a single word roll off of his tongue…“Chilbo.” Instead of scooting away in a Hyundai taxi towards the Chilbo developmental sector of Suwon, we were riding thoroughbred stallions off into the sunset, intent on finding the Lost City of Chilbo. It was magical.

Anyway I got to school and it only cost 9,000 Won, but I gave him 20,000 Won because he made my day. I was worried about being late because it was only my second day on the job but luckily my first class was canceled. The teachers had gone to my apartment looking for me and not finding me there assumed that I was lost. It was a big joke to them but that’s cool. I was adequately prepared for class today but all the room’s computers crashed so I had to wing it again. Let me just say this. If you ever want to feel like a rock star without learning to play an instrument or singing, go teach ESL. My day consists of hundreds of kids running up to me screaming, “Hi Teacher! How are you?” The boys want my autograph. The girls keep following me around and calling me handsome. For some reason they all want to know how tall I am. I tell them 6’4”, which doesn’t help because they’re on the metric system. Whatever, I love my job so far and this country rocks. If the weather is nice tomorrow I want to take the train to Seoul. This public transportation system owes me a rematch. Well here’s a bonus video of my apartment for anyone who had the attention span to actually read through this whole thing.

Oh, one more thing. Went grocery shopping last night and afterwords decided that, since I've been eating healthy Korean food all week, I was going to drink beer and get a Pizza Hut pizza. But let me tell you, this was the best Pizza Hut ever. I got something with ham, green peppers onion, mayonnaise (I think), hot sauce, pickles and waffle fries. Fresh ingredients, unique flavor combinations, and spectacular service. The man held the door open for me and wrapped my pizza in this little bow. American pizza places have to step it up. This stuff was great.