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

3rd Annual Seoul World DJ Festival!

My job is awesome! I’m always a little nervous on Mondays because I’m never sure if my lesson plan for the week will work out until the first period is over, but it went awesomely today which means it’s smooth sailing the rest of the week. My work hours are 8:30 a.m. – 4:30 p.m., Monday through Friday but I only teach for three hours a day. The rest of the time I spend on the Internet, composing next weeks lesson plan, talking to the staff, or staring out my awesome floor to ceiling windows. It was humid and rained today but the view was nonetheless spellbinding. My scope encompasses the schoolyard, agricultural fields, vineyards, a large highway, the Suwon skyline, and finally a thick ridge of mountains accentuating the horizon. There are so many flowers in Korea that the rain washes the pollen off buildings and cars in thick rivulets, consolidating the yellow substance into a substantial skin that floats on the top of puddles. After a rain storm the smell is deficient yet lively.

When school let out there was a staff dinner, paid for by the school board, which came without warning. I was about to get on a bus back to Topdong but Ms. Huh intercepted me and told me that all the teachers were going for a night out. The restaurant was a traditional Korean spot, near the entrance to Chilbo Mountain. It was the kind of place where the tables are only six inches off the ground and you have to sit cross-legged. Upon entering the establishment I was, admittedly, worried that I would be unable to sit in such a posture throughout the course of the meal, yet as the night wore on I was not only able to maintain such a stance but found myself quite comfortable. I love Korean fare. They put 20 different dishes in front of you and you pick at whatever you want. The main course was duck cooked on a grill at the table. You pick little pieces of meat up with your chopsticks, slap it on a piece of lettuce, add garlic, onion, mustard, or what else have you, roll it up, and chow down. It was the best meal I’ve had since I’ve been in the country. Koreans love their Soju and it is customary to fill your neighbors glass if you see that it is empty. As the night wore on several male members of the faculty began challenging my ability to keep up with them at their own game. “Hah”, I scoffed confidently, “this is a pastime for which my American education has me adequately prepared gentlemen! Clearly you’ve never been to West Chester, Pennsylvania.” Within an hour I had garnished their respect and my new brothers promised that they would soon take me bungee jumping. I sincerely hope they keep their word.

Before continuing, I would like to say that I am sorry for not posting an update sooner but I have not been well this past week. For four days I had, what I believed to be, a terrible cold. I was in such a state that I regrettably missed two days of classes. On Friday, I finally gave up on the "chicken soup/Gatorade/sleep/I don't have health insurance," remedy and asked to be taken to a doctor. Going to the Korean doctor was an interesting experience unto itself. We walked into the waiting room, checked in with the secretary, and took a seat. So far, not unlike going to any other doctor in the States. When they called my name I followed an assistant in to the back. The examination room had a familiar flair to it but was very alien nonetheless. Where the butcher paper covered examination table should have been sat a rigid wooden cathedra, similar in form to what you'd expect an electric execution chair to look like. Instead of a tidy cabinet complete with individually wrapped and sanitary tongue depressors, cotton swabs, and disposable thermometers, there sat a wheeled stainless-steel cart riddled with hundreds of indecipherable implements from scalpels and bone-saws to powder-filled glass jars and tooth-brushes to vacuum pumps and stethoscopes. The apparatuses at hand suggested that the practitioner was equally surgeon, dentist, and necromancer. The examination itself took less than two minutes and in that time the doctor inserted a dozen probes into my nose and mouth. Some shot bursts of air or a vinegar tasting substance while others simply sucked snot from my nasal cavity. In the end his diagnoses was that I was allergic to something in the air. He gave me a prescription and I had it filled next door less than five minutes later. The cost for the examination and the medicine was less than 9,000 Won or about $7.00 U.S. Long live socialized medicine. Go to hell and die United States privatized health care system. My medicine had enough doses for three days and after the first dose I began to feel better. Awesome!

Since I was in a decidedly better state of affairs on Saturday I figured that I was well enough to go to Seoul with Charlie. We were riding the bus to Suwon station, chatting, laughing, going on about life, love and opportunity, when a terrible concussion tore through the lull. The report rocked the bus and in an instant reality seemed miles away. I gazed around, saw terrified glares from pedestrians, could hear people talking though their voices sounded muffled, as if through ear plugs. I spun, tracing the sound of the blast and across the street I could see black smoke pouring from under a green bus, identical to the one I was riding. Was it on fire? Was it a bomb? Was it an attack? In a microsecond my brain unarchived a thousand different terrorist reports and propaganda that had been lying dormant in my cerebellum, residual observations from calcullating corporate media. As my body prepared a surge of adrenaline adequate to endure a survival situation Charlie put his hand on my shoulder and pointed at the smoking bus, "Tire blew out," he said. Really, I thought as I regained composure, was that all it was? I mean, I've had blow outs in a few cars myself but I never figured that a bus tire could go off with such a thunderous detonation . And all the black smoke! Was it atomized rubber. Don't think that I exaggerate when I say I thought it was a bomb. Regardless, it got my momentum going in the morning better than a cup of coffee ever did.

Charlie had to go to Seoul to buy books and I needed to go to a Kodak service center to get my camera fixed. Somehow Charlie managed to track down this obscure Kodak office in the middle of the city that promised to have the parts I needed for my camera. If I had a Samsung camera I could probably pick the parts up off the street but finding parts for a Kodak is like the plot of National Treasure. Well, we get to this corporate office in the capital of Korea and I can see that they have a thousand boxes of batteries, lenses, SD cards, and other contrivances stashed in the back but they don't have the specific part that I need. Go figure. So they suggest a place in Suwon, which really brought my sweat to a boil. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to paint pictures with words for my adoring audience.

Around 2 p.m. on Saturday Charlie had to disembark to take a test for a government job that he is gunning for. Since, I was feeling egregious I decided that I would join Carlos, Steph, Mark, and this cool Korean chick, Bo in Seoul for the 3rd Annual Seoul World DJ Festival. There was a slight miscomunication as to the whereabouts of the festival itself and I ended up spending the afternoon in Olympic Park, an enormous outdoor facility that I imagine hosted the world games at some point in the past. Though beautiful, the park appeared to be entertaining a few thousand boy scouts at the present and I couldn't imagine that the city planners would allow a rave festival in conjunction. Digging through my pocket for change I called Carlos, obtained the proper coordinates, and was back on board the train to Itaewon.

I had not yet seen as many foreigners in Korea as when I exited the subway in Itaewon. American, British, Austrailian, New Zealanders, and other English speakers abound. As I stood on the curb, chatting with seasoned travelers and waiting for cabs, I decided that I was not to be outdone. Casting aside public transit and taxis as the conveyance of commoners I hailed the largest, most luxurious limousine within sight, ... yes...it was a The Chairman. I arrived at the Rainbow Hotel in unparalleled style to join my companions for the evening. After several hours of procrastinating we managed to garner transportation to within walking distance of the festival.

Tickets to the festival were 50,000 Won, which we considered to be a little steep. In a foolish attempt to bypass this exhorberant fee we transversed a perilous expanse of highway via an unfinished over pass. Over scaffolding, exposed steel rebar, and plywood we crept, eight lanes of high velocity death roaring thirty feet below. We made it to the other side safely enough but there was still three or four tight barriers of security between us and bass heavy madness. It's unfortunate that the event planners were not as incompetent as we hoped they would be. After sucking it up and paying the entry fee we entered a swarm of funkadelic freaks, countless nations and creeds represented. Two huge stages pumped thick pulsing base over a rolling crowd of vivacious youths. In lost time we rebounded between various players, abandoned to the night, to the music, to the carefree mentality of the herd's strange mass, 10,000 vagabonds consolidated in a sandy plot, half a world away from the familiar. Hands flew, pillaged spirits were poured, states of being previously unequaled were achieved. I even met an astronaut.

The festival promised to roll on until 5 a.m. but there was more of Itaewon to be seen. We sold our wrist bands to new comers for 30,000 Won after three or four hours and caught a cab back into town. Itaewon has everything...shopping, clubs, food. We did some Mexican, hung out at a Hookah bar, and danced the night away. The details regarding the later part of the evening escape me as I was overcome with fatigue and I admit that I did not see the sunrise as did the majority of my compatriots, choosing instead a well deserved respite on a hard motel floor.

Another Korean weekend successfully seized! I hope that my accounts were intrepid enough for you oh steadfast reader. With that I will pledge the remaining few hours of my night to Venture Brothers re-runs and ironing. As my camera is incapacitated the pictures published here are courtesy of Mark Hayden and Stephanie Swayne. Thanks guys. Should you desire further narratives from Korea I recommend you to Mark Hayden's blog or the Korean Blog List.

Cool Thing About Korea #4: Pizza School - 12 original medium pizzas for only 5,000 Won.