Just got back from a weekend in Busan to celebrate my thirty ... my thirty ... um ... my thirtieth birthday. As far as most of the weekend goes, some things just don't belong in a blog. The experience did show the best and worst of Korean hospitality, so I figured I'd share some of it.
The good: I'm usually a thorough packer, but when I got to Busan I realized I had forgotten my sleeping pills, which in South Korea can be bought very easily. I could go on a rant against the U.S. big medicine monster here, but why do it when "Boston Legal" has done such a bang-up job? Suffice it to say the medication can be bought at any basic pharmacy. The trick is, of course, finding a pharmacy in an area I am not familiar with.
During our half-hour window to get ready for dinner Saturday night, I walked to the main drag along Gwangalli Beach. Upon seeing the Busan tourist information office, I asked if there was a pharmacy around. One man summoned another who led me outside. He did not point the way. He did not draw a map. Nope, he did better than that. He walked with me, down an alley, left down a street parallel to the drag along the beach and toward a hospital. The pharmacy was there. It was also closed. So the man led me down another block, and I bought 10 pills for two bucks. A victory for South Korean hospitality and medicine. Up yours, U.S. Big Pharmaceutical!
The ugly: Upon my return to the hotel, my key could not unlock my door. Worse, the key was stuck. I walked downstairs and did my best to motion that the key was stuck in the doorknob. "Key!" the woman said. Yes, and I motioned again that it was stuck. She nodded. She went about her duties. I waited. She motioned me upstairs. To what room? I thought. But yes, I walked up the stairs in good faith that she'd follow. She didn't.
So I did what I do best. I pounded on the door until someone else on the floor knew I was sufficiently pissed off. Luckily for me it was our lone traveler who is Korean. She later reported that the owner of the hotel had no clue about my problem. Okay fine, but why did she shoo me upstairs then? Anyway, to the hotel's credit, they changed the doorknob within the hour, while we were at dinner, and all was wonderful with the world.
The bad: Had brunch today at Breeze Burn's, which has phenomenal burgers and the opposite of phenomenal coffee. But I wasn't too picky, as long as they brought milk and sugar, which despite my asking, didn't happen. So I walked to the counter with two mugs of coffee (the other for a friend) and asked for milk and sugar (uyu and soltang). The server motioned me to return to the table. He arrived two minutes later with one small container of whipped milk -- a dish about the size of one that holds ketchup for fries. Wait, there's a punchline. That airline-peanut-bag-sized helping of milk cost 2,300 won -- almost as much as the coffee. With the help of a Korean at the table, I expressed my surprise at the bill, and to the restaurant's credit the charge was eliminated.
Mom update: My mom is back in the U.S., presumably back on the right clock and with the taste of jjigae properly washed from her mouth. Recounting her trip here is the next priority. We still have Gyeongju, Seomun Market, Italian dinner, Haeundae Beach, a return to the aquarium, Mom's visit to one of my classes, and her top five to go.
Culture update: One thing about being here, you meet people from many countries. And the advantage of knowing Englishmen is that they can remind me of some great TV I have missed. I am well-versed in "Red Dwarf," "The Young Ones" and "Fawlty Towers," and I am wearing out my PlayStation by replaying the third season of "Black Adder." But two Brits have told me to check out the fake news show The Day Today, which the BBC calls "without doubt the most important satirical show of the 1990s." And you thought it was "Men Behaving Badly." Anyway, I have spent at least a good half-hour trolling YouTube for clips, and now I must find a way to buy the boxed set. Like all great shows, the satire not only mocks how things are but warns us how things could be. With that in mind, enjoy this clip in which host Chris Morris goads Hong Kong and Australia into war -- and the crew is more than ready for it:
Countdown for when this actually happens on a U.S. 24-hour cable news show: T-minus ...
Questions, comments, demands and requests can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
This has been a hell of a week. The beach on Monday. My mom's last full day (along with my return to work) on Tuesday. A 5:45 wake-up call to bring my mom to the airport on Wednesday, followed by a return from Seoul and a three-hour afternoon nap. Tests at school. And today, 22 hours' notice that the move down the street will happen on Saturday, after I work (to fill in for a colleague who graciously took my classes on Wednesday).
On top of that, I don't expect to get Internet until Monday, which probably means I won't get it until November, when it's time to leave. Who knows? Anyway, I've been organizing my things, listening to a little live Deep Purple, Mark II version from the BBC, while wondering just how I will make it through the weekend without hyperventilating (hint: I won't). Oh yes, I must get rabies shots for Baldy, nail down the process for getting him home with all the right paperwork, finish correcting the tests and write reports for my classes (the former ASAP, the latter by Wednesday night). Finally, two more words: Yanks-Sox.
So please give me time, and in a few days I'll finish up on my mom's Korean adventure: Gyeongju, Seomun Market, Italian dinner, Haeundae Beach, a return to the aquarium, Mom's visit to one of my classes, and her top five.
After two full days of tourist sites, it was time Friday for my mom to experience life as I do here -- riding the subway, dodging taxis on crosswalks and window-shopping at an endless row of stores downtown.
Daegu is South Korea's third- or fourth-largest city, depending on whether Incheon is considered part of Seoul or not (and for the record, Incheon is as much a part of Seoul as Danny Bonaduce was a part of the Ming Dynasty). Daegu has 2.5 million people, about 100,000 less than Incheon.
However, I do believe that Daegu, despite its few "must-see" places, is in and of itself a tourist stop for my Mom, considering it's unlike anything she has seen in the U.S. First of all, as my mom has pointed out many times over here, there are just so many darn cars and people here. White apartment buildings, often 15 stories high, line up like dominoes. The air is a tad smoggy, and I have yet to see stars in the sky here. The streets are lined with restaurants, stores, PC rooms and English academies (Mom: "How do all of these places stay open?"). Despite many trees green space is at a premium.
Here's some perspective. If South Korea were a state, it would be the 38th-largest in the U.S. in terms of area and first by a comfortable margin in population. In other words, try to cram 48 million people into Kentucky. You'd need 44 million more than who is already there. Seoul's metropolitan area has more people (23 million) than each state except California and Texas. Obviously not every city is as big as Seoul, but you get the jist: A country barely bigger than Indiana has the world's 13th-largest economy. All those people have to live somewhere, and in South Korea, it's on top of everyone.
So Friday's tour was essentially, welcome to My Korea. We walked from my apartment to the subway, caught a glimpse of my school, and rode the subway 20-plus minutes to the transfer point. Five minutes later, we were downtown. I didn't snap photos, but a pretty good photo album from another site begins here. Also, two co-workers who have just finished here have posted a blog entry titled "Lego Land" that accurately depicts just how many buildings in close proximity there are here. More on them in a bit.
We walked. We dodged people, many of whom had their heads down and their minds made up where they wanted to go. They weren't being impolite. It's just what they do. We passed food stands, clothing stands, stores, tall buildings and chain restaurants. We searched for (and bought) souvenirs for home. After walking around for about 90 minutes, we settled down for a waffle, Korean style, complete with toppings that include green tea ice cream and a tomato:
I wasn't kidding about the tomato. For the record, this place, called "Coffee & Waffle," pulls it off.
After that, we took a cab to the baseball stadium to watch our Samsung Lions, who are battling for the fourth and final playoff spot in the eight-team Korean league, get destroyed by the Kia Tigers, who have won a league-best nine titles and are in first place.
Mom has already referred to the "stupid plays" at this game. She's probably referring to how Kia scored their first run. With a runner on third, the batter hit a ground ball to the third baseman. The runner on third decided now would be a good time to run home. Mistake No. 1. The third baseman saw the runner dead to rights and threw home -- a very smart play that would have been even smarter had the catcher been there. Mistake No. 2, and the opening run.
The rest of the game had nothing much different than (what I've written about about before -- except for this, one of the greatest promotions ever that has somehow slipped through the cracks of this blog. During the middle of an inning, four guys competed to see who could drink two glasses of beer through a straw first. Considering the beer is Hite, it's less glamorous than it sounds.
The Hite mascot poses with fans in right field.
We left in the eighth inning -- a sin, I know, but for good reason. Two more teachers are leaving. Brett Piggott and Cindy Boyes, an Aussie-Canadian couple headed back to Canada to continue their teaching careers, hosted a dinner, and my mom got to meet most of my co-workers who dutifully showed up to say goodbye to a pair of hard-working teachers that we'll miss. Mom also got to taste some Korean food, and she regrets it to this day.
Real-time update: My mom and I head back to Seoul tomorrow night, and she flies out of Incheon on Wednesday morning. So let me tell you what the next few entries will cover: our trip to Gyeongju on Day 4, navigating Seomun Market (and its 4,000 stores) in Daegu on Day 5, our day sojourn to Busan for the aquarium and Haeundae Beach on Day 6, and my mom's top five enjoyable parts of this trip. Hint: kimchi, jjigae and galbi are not among them.
Questions, comments, demands and suggestiong for the third "D" can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
I don't know if words can fully describe just how surreal the DMZ is. It's a tense war zone and a tourist stop. There is barbed wire and guards on the fringes, and preserved wildlife inside. Soldiers prepare for anything, and they do mostly nothing. It's tough to understand unless you go, but since most of you have not gone, I will do my best to put you there, starting with a photo of me and my mom standing in North Korean territory on Thursday:
Background
An interesting claim that South Koreans like to make is that Korea is "the only divided country in the world." Now, if you're like me, you're thinking, "It's not one country. There's North Korea and South Korea." But that's not how many Koreans think. They speak of "Korea" as one country, like it was before 1910 (when Japan took over). I have been here for more than nine months and I have heard a Korean refer to "South Korea" as often as I've heard a Yankees fan successfully count to 10.
So what divides Korea? A stretch of land that is 4 km (2.5 miles) wide, more or less along the 38th parallel, all the way across the peninsula, from the Yellow Sea to the Sea of Japan East Sea. The buffer serves as a no-man's land. According to Wikipedia, which is never wrong, it is one of about 10 DMZs in the world. (I mean, do you really want to count Antarctica?) Various publications say the Korean one is the most heavily fortified. The DMZ has existed since the cease fire was signed in 1953. I'll repeat the words "cease fire" to remind you that the war is still, technically, going on, and has been for 59 years now -- 56 after most of the shooting stopped.
There are also two villages inside the buffer. In the South's village, residents (most of whom are farmers) are exempt from paying taxes or joining the military, but they have curfews and cannot leave the village after dark. In the North, there is "Propaganda Village," so called (outside of North Korea) because radio broadcasts blared to anyone listening that they should come to paradise -- although South Koreans and UN forces will tell you that paradise is uninhabited.
Finally, in the middle of the DMZ is a Military Demarcation Line that divides the DMZ in half -- the northern and southern halves. The result is that South Korean and North Korean troops will watch each other from mere meters away. (You can see what I mean here.)
Getting there
My mom and I took the USO tour, which is considered the most complete. There is a dress code that can be summed up this way: Don't look like a bum because a North Korean will snap your picture and the government will tell its citizens how thuggish or poor they are over in South Korea.
We checked in at 7 a.m. The bus left at 7:30. En route, the tour guide, who is Korean, delivered a speech that was an odd mix of logistics ("We will tell you when you can take photos and when you can't"), opinion (South Koreans don't want unification because they don't want higher taxes to help a lagging Northern side -- a view that seems to run contrary to the party line I've heard) and humor ("Don't defect to North Korea.").
En route, to the left of the highway, we could see the buffer with a wooden barrier and barbed wire lining the road. About every 30 seconds or so we'd pass a watch tower that was always colored in brown or camouflage paint and sometimes occupied by an armed South Korean making sure nobody was crossing. I don't think we were looking into the DMZ, but just another buffer to protect Seoul on the other side of the Han and Imjin rivers. But I don't know for sure and am too lazy to look it up now.
After our second checkpoint we switched buses and arrived at Camp Bonifas, named after a U.S. solider who died in the Axe Murder Incident. We watched a 20-minute slide show on the history of the Korean War and various goings-on at the DMZ, then boarded the bus to head to Panmunjeom, home of the armistice talks in 1953 and other discussions the two sides have had since. On the way out we passed a 192-yard, par-3 hole that Sports Illustrated has apparently dubbed the World's Most Dangerous Golf Course because there are live mines on three sides of the fairway. (The course, along with other odd ones, can be seen here.)
Panmunjeom
We arrived at the site where North and South Koreans soldiers can stand within breathing distance of each other and not flinch. We were warned again: Your photos will be taken by North Korea. The orders were simple and stark: Stay in your group, walk in two lines, don't point at the North Koreans, don't gesture at the North Koreans.
The arrow is pointing to a North Korean soldier, who is watching us through binoculars. Another North Korean is in a window next to him on his right, also looking through binoculars or taking photos. For the record, our guide told us there are 700 troops from our side who can arrive at Panmunjeom within two minutes if something breaks out.
This photo is from the inside of the conference building, which is located atop the Military Demarcation Line that separates the two warring countries:
The microphone on the table is always on. In other words, anything that's said in that room, the North Koreans can hear. So my "What do I do with this hand grenade?" icebreaker was suddenly off the table. The microphones (you can't see the two others) also dictate where the military demarcation line is. That means the tourists you see on the right are in the North Korean half of the military buffer. And the South Korean solider, one of three or four in the room at the time, didn't flinch. None of them did. And I have no idea how they didn't, because once we were given the go-ahead, along with a warning that if we touch a guard, they're trained "to touch back," just about everyone posed for their "Hey Everyone, I'm With An Active Soldier In A War Zone!" photo, like this one:
Mom, in North Korea, next to a South Korean soldier. Don't touch ...
South Korean soldiers kept their fists clenched the whole time. It's part of their modified taekwondo stance that is meant to intimidate the opposition.
This guard is keeping a watchful eye on the North Korean building across the way. Half of his body is behind the building to protect himself from gunfire.
Dora Observatory
From there we drove up a mountain to the Dora Observatory, a working military outpost that doubles as a tourist site. North Korea is, after all, one of the most isolated countries in the world. Americans cannot get in right now. So if were going to see the place, we have to settle for photos like this:
On the public deck of the observatory, we were not allowed to take photos from the ledge. We could pay 500 won to peer through binoculars, but photos had to be taken behind a yellow line, which means all of my pictures had tourists in front of me. Then again, that speaks to the demand of the place -- we were not the only tour group there.
We were able to see both villages I mentioned earlier -- the South Korean village, with the 100-meter (328-foot) flagpole, and the North Korean "propaganda village" with the 160-meter (524.9-foot) flagpole carrying a 270-kilogram (600-pound) flag.
I have circled the flagpole. The combination of the photo restriction, a subpar zoom on my digital camera, and a nonexistent wind led to a rather anticlimactic view the world's largest flag stand.
Tunnel No. 3
After lunch we headed to Tunnel No. 3, which is one of four tunnels South Korean/UN forces have discovered. Once the DMZ was established, those wily North Koreans tried to dig tunnels that would enable them to capture Seoul. When the good guys discovered the tunnel, the North Koreans had dug 1,200 meters to the demarcation line and 435 meters into South Korea. In the interest of fairness, I should point out that North Korea denies they have built Tunnel No. 3 or any other tunnel but may have been careless while taking over-the-counter supplements.
No photos allowed in the tunnel, so this is all I can give you.
My mom passed on going down there, but I donned an ill-fitting yellow helmet and walked 358 meters down an 11-percent grade slope, a path built specifically for tourists (there are other entry points closed to the public). I walked 265 meters. It was cold and wet and I crouched most of the time. There were support beams above my head. Let's just say the helmet served its practical purpose.
The walls were black. To be fair, I will give you each side of the story. The North says it is an abandoned coal mine. The South says that's a fine and dandy story, except for the fact that there is no coal to be found in the area, so the North painted it black to use the old "it's-an-abandoned-mine" trick. The South also points out that the tunnel slopes slightly so water drains to the North, and that dynamite was planted facing south. The North counters by saying the U.S. started everything.
Misc. stuff and closing thoughts
** There were four opportunities to buy gifts and souvenirs. I couldn't help but think, "Wow, gift shops in a war zone." But there they were. Among the items: soju and beer made in North Korea and a T-shirt with soldiers from both sides smiling, looking happy and wondering when the dopey tourists would leave so they could finish their Madden 09 tournament:
Yep. I bought it.
** North Korea also offers DMZ tours. According to Lonely Planet, a plaque on the North Korean side celebrates the armistice signing thusly: "It was here on July 27, 1953 that the American imperialists got down on their knees before the heroic Chosun people to sign the ceasefire for the war they had provoked June 25, 1950."
** My mom initially did not want to go but her friends kept pestering her about going there. I am writing this five full days into her visit, and it remains her favorite part of this trip, although I imagine the Italian dinner we had tonight is a close second.
MORE BLOG STUFF
Real-time update: Later today (it's 12:24 Monday as I write this) we will head to Busan so Mom can see the beach. Upon our return I'll go to Hapkido class (not that you care) and post one or two more items (I hope you care).
Tuesday I work, which will enable my mom to sleep late, visit my school and, hopefully, pop in to my final conversation class I teach. (She's volunteered to partner up with a student if we have an odd number. Does she rule or what?) Then it's off to Seoul after work and to the airport just after dawn Wednesday. I apologize for not writing about these trips as they have all happened, but with her here for such a short time we've had a hectic schedule.
Weight update: 92.4 kg (203.28 pounds), the heaviest I have been this month. Once I am back in a normal routine I imagine it'll go back down. Still kinda sucks, though.
Happy time: I don't want to end on a bad note, so here is Mom and two smiling soldiers from two countries so close and yet so far apart:
Questions, comments, demands and requests can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
After four complete days, my mom and I have traveled back in time (Korean Folk Village), visited a war zone (DMZ), watched some really bad pitching (a Samsung Lions game, which they lost 9-2) and viewed one of Asia's most beautiful religious sites (Bulguksa) in one of the continent's most historically rich cities (Gyeongju). As you can see, I have typed exactly one full update. Such is life when you're traversing around trying to be a good host.
I will post about our trip to the DMZ and other places soon. But I figured now would be a good time to pass along my mom's thoughts on the place after four full days.
The KTX, South Korea's high-speed train system that tops 300 km per hour, received high marks from my mom, especially when I told her we were riding first class.
** "I love the scenery. It's absolutely gorgeous."
** "I really enjoyed the Folk Village. The DMZ was the best probably. I was amazed at the DMZ that North Korea was watching us. It was shocking to see those guys with the binoculars watching us, and knowing there was another guy somewhere with a camera, taking our pictures."
** I was amazed at the baseball game. It was weird -- watching them do stupid plays, the noise, the atmosphere was just totally un-American baseball." (Here is a post of the Samsung Lions' season opener, which goes into detail about the differences between presentation of a game in South Korea vs. the U.S.)
** "The temple (Bulguksa) was just absolutely gorgeous."
** "I don't like the food. I don't know why. I don't like the taste. I don't even know what kind of meat we were eating (Friday) night but i didn't like it. It looked like bacon." (It was samgyupsal. She also twice tried
jjigae, a Korean stew, and pulled an I-just-swallowed-Robitussin face each time.)
** "I love the salads we've had so far." (Editor's note: One was green onions with dressing. The other was lettuce with dressing. To quote Mom from earlier today, "I guess I wouldn't make a very good Korean." Although I must say she's got the height for it ...)
** "I'm amazed at the transportation. It's so swift and organized and probably totally different than anyplace in America, although I must say San Francisco was pretty good. The fact that (the subways) have designed places for elderly people or handicapped people to sit is utterly amazing. They make sure those people have a place to sit as opposed to Boston where it's first-come, first served."
** "I miss watching American TV. I would go absolutely berserk if I had to do this (watch TV in Korean) all the time."
The platform at the Seoul subway shows where the cars with seating for the elderly/handicapped/pregnant/mothers of infants will stop.
Questions, comments, demands and requests can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
Well, I don't know whether to exhale or to apologize for the imminent typos. It has been a busy three days. Right now it's 1:18 a.m. Saturday in South Korea, and my mom is conked out on the couch behind me as I type this by the light of a night light. We've been to the Folk Village, the DMZ and a Samsung Lions baseball game. But one at a time. Let's go back to Wednesday, my mom's first full day in South Korea, and our visit to the Korean Folk Village in Suwon.
Getting here required a 7:30 wake-up call (no easy feat considering my mom spent a day and a half getting here and hardly slept on the plane), an hour-long trip on Seouls' subway system, followed by a 57-minute wait for the next shuttle bus to the village, and a 30-minute ride to the place. When we got there, the rain had not let up. The bad news is, the normal performances, including horse riding, the traditional wedding and acrobats on a tightrope, were canceled. The good news is, we almost had the whole place to ourselves. Nobody wanted to come. So, enough of what we didn't see and on to what we did: a museum, a pottery maker, a cotton maker, replicas of peasants' houses and commoners' houses, souvenir shopping, and a traditional lunch.
The first stop was the World Folk Museum. I don't think I was allowed to take photos in the place, but by the time I saw the "no photo" sign in the eighth of eight exhibition halls, well ... oops.
Traditional home setting in Turkey.
My mom loved these two dresses. The one on the left is from Botswana. On the right, Morocco.
Here is a long-nosed goblin. Also in the picture is a thing on the wall. Kidding, Mom, kidding ...
From New Guinea.
Artwork from Mexico. This is made of yarn.
Brazilian depiction of Jesus. Hey, that's what the card said.
A quick funny story about the museum. En route, I left my umbrella on a subway car. So I bought two in an underground plaza before we headed to the village. In the third building of the village, I left my umbrella on a glass display case. I was off taking photos when I heard the sound of an umbrella falling behind a display case. Indeed, it was an umbrella falling behind a display case. I could not reach it. Neither could my mom. I tried moving the case, but all I could think of was breaking everything inside of it and then, when confronted by management, making up a story in which a bunch of robbers stormed into the place and broke everything1
From there, we walked up a muddy hill and entered a house where a man and a woman made pottery. They were gracious enough to let us show video. Here is the man finishing up his bottle:
And here is the finished product:
After that we headed to the actual village that included replicas of houses, gardens, shops and equipment. There's no way these pictures can show you everything but I have picked a few:
Totem poles often greeted visitors into a village.
And here is a woman making cotton:
Finally, it was time to eat lunch. Here's a story that reminds me how sometimes, I think people are being rude to me, but it reality there's something very minor getting in the way: the language barrier. My mom and I entered the "Korean Food Court" -- a tent with rows of tables and chairs under tents. These tents either had holes or allowed water to just roll off the edges onto the ground, so of the hundred-plus places to sit, about 10 were dry. Anyway, one woman at a meal ticket stand motioned us to sit, so we did. And nobody came. Then I realized, at the far end, was another meal ticket stand with a woman in it. Oh, I must go over. OK.
My mom ordered rice wrapped in seaweed. I ordered a meat and rice soup and a potato pancake. Total order: a reasonable 15,000 won. We were told to bring one ticket to kitchen 3, one to kitchen 4 and a third to kitchen 8, then to sit on a riser with no chairs and a small table. After motioning that my 67-year-old mom would find this arrangement difficult, we sat at one of the other 10 dry spots under the tents, while other workers brought the tickets to the kitchens for us. Meanwhile, I had to walk across the place to another store for two Cokes.
The only thing that could save this lunch experience was the actual lunch. For me, it was a home run. My mom and I both enjoyed the pancake. She was not a fan of her rice -- there were seeds in there she wasn't too fond of. This was her first actual Korean meal, her previous two being a donut and coke after arrival and a Western breakfast buffet at the hotel. She did, however, enjoy some of my soup I gave her. I don't blame her -- the meat was tender and the veggies were good. The broth was flavorful but not too spicy. Here, have a look:
We left at 4. The rest of the day involved getting to the hotel around 6, resting, and enjoying my mom's fourth meal in Korea: dinner at Outback Steakhouse. Up next: a 5:30 wake-up call and a trip to a war zone.
Bonus Seoul picture: From outside our hotel room after the rain finally stopped after a daylong downpour:
Stay tuned for my account of our trip to the DMZ. Questions, comments, demands and requests can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
1 I am referring to an episode of the classic British sitcom "Steptoe and Son," which was remade in the States as "Sanford and Son." Both shows are top notch, which is noteworthy considering what the U.S. usually does to British shows. The U.S. version did a faithful remake of the "Steptoe" episode I linked to in this blog entry. This episode provided one of the great exchanges in the show's history. Cop to Fred: "Were they colored?" Fred: "Yeah. White."
It's a chocolate frosted donut (with sprinkles) from Dunkin Donuts, with a Coca Cola to wash it down at the Incheon International Airport. Hey, if you flew nonstop from Washington D.C. (or, as Mom put it, "eight million years"), you wouldn't stick around for the perfect bibimbap, either.
Anyway, we are here, after a 95-minute bus ride from Incheon to our hotel in Itaewon, the area of Seoul geared toward foreigners. I picked the Hamilton Hotel because of its proximity to Camp Kim, the base we'll report to Thursday morning (at 7 a.m., ouch) for the DMZ tour. Internet costs about $5 for half an hour, so you'll excuse this brief post. To get ice, you can room service and they bring it to you. No tipping necessary. Right now we're watching CNN International, where the lead sports story is Michael Schumacher's non-return to Formula One racing. Maybe that's not your cup of tea, but hey, it beats the latest news story on the length of Brett Favre's toenails.
The plan for tomorrow: Take an hour-long subway ride to Suwon and visit the Korean Folk Village. From there, it's either the big fortress or Insadong for some shopping, or both.
Questions, comments, demands and requests can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
Later today, about 14 hours from now, I will meet my mom at Incheon International Airport. When she lands she will set foot outside of North America for the first time in here sixty-sev ... you know, in her lifetime. I have considered shutting down the blog while she's here, but one thing I didn't do well when I arrived is communicate everything that was just so darn new when I arrived here. So I will do that through her. I don't think my mom knows this yet. But she will, specifically after I tell her, "Oh no, of course not, Mom, I would never tell anyone you said that," and then put it in the blog anyway.
But seriously, this is going to be a great time. There are a few things that I will be seeing for the first time as well, including the Korean Folk Village in Suwon and the world's most hostile tourist trap, the DMZ. I'd publish links but I should really get off to bed. So stay tuned and I hope to post every day while my mom is here, even if it's just a brief summary and photos.
Questions, comments, demands and requests can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
I am all about national pride in sporting events. For example, during every Ryder Cup, I root for the Europeans. But the love that South Korea has for soccer hero Park Ji Sung continues to amaze me.
I was reminded of the Koreans' intense pride for the workmanlike midfielder on Sunday night, when his Manchester United squad faced Chelsea in the Community Shield, a game that kicks off the Premier League season with a matchup between the defending league champion and the holders of the FA Cup. Keep in mind that rooting for a winner in a Man U-Chelsea game is very much like choosing between undergoing root canal with only a single breath mint for anesthetic or jumping off a 12-story building with Manny Ramirez trying to catch you. So, naturally, I rooted for the Patriots.
Koreans, however, have an easy choice, and that's the club that employs their beloved unspectacular but bulldoggish Mr. Park. One station, MBC ESPN, shows every Man U match, and they know exactly what people here want to know: Is Park playing?
Indeed, he started. How do we know? That little box in the upper right tells us. Here's the close-up:
The first three groups of lettering spell out "Park Ji Sung" in Hangul. I don't know what the rest of it says, despite my best efforts to find the word in my Korean-to-English dictionary. But the gist of it is: He's playing. When Park was substituted late in the match, here is what the box said:
It reads: 09 Community Shield. Or, specifically, by phonetics, "Ceo-mu-ni-ti Shiel-duh." I suppose they'd lose viewers if they wrote, "Our hero has been benched." I have mentioned Park's popularity a few times on this blog, most recently here during the Champions League final.
Weight update
After a successful period in which I dipped under 200 pounds in three of four days, I have yet to dip below the desired barrier again since. Here are the scale's readings, in kilograms, since Wednesday, with 90.9 representing the magical sub-200-pound mark: 91.4, 91.2, 91.4, 91.6, 92.0.
The readings reiterate that my true goal needs to be 195 pounds, or 88.6 kg. Getting there would give me the breathing space to stop trickling over the 200-pound mark.
Questions, comments, demands and requests can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
Questions, comments, demands and other excuses for David Ortiz's positive test can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
For whatever reason -- and don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly thankful for this -- the unrelentingly hot and humid weather has given way to sunny skies and, heaven forbid, a slight breeze in South Korea's hottest city. So Sunday provided a great opportunity for another hike in the mountains behind our neighborhood.
Rather than a long hike in the same direction I took several months ago, I opted for a quicker, steeper hike that ended near a Buddhist statue at the base of the mountain. I naturally brought Baldy along, because when you think of hiking dogs, you think of a stocky Corgi mix with short legs.
As the title suggested, here are some photos and a video:
A nearby mountain peak. Not sure what the building is.
A peek at east Daegu.
Siji. Not a bad view, huh?
I've found the way down more challenging than the climb, partly because old sneakers with no treads and no ankle support is not the ideal footwear. And sometimes I just feel the momentum will send me headlong into a tree. However, as you are about to see, Baldy relishes the challenge of finding his way down a mountain. Right around the 0:45 mark you'll see Baldy stop and look down. At 0:58, you'll hear me tell him, "This explains why you stopped" -- a sharp decline that has a rather copious amount of rock. By all means, see how it ends ...
The Buddha statue at the base of the mountain. I searched the Web for more info on this but could not find any.
For my post about my first hike behind the Ghetto, click here.
For my post about a spectacular waterfall-filled hike in Pohang, click here.
Questions, comments, demands or suggestions can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. If you happen to live in Daegu, or if you've lived in Daegu, and know more about the Buddha statue, feel free to pass it along.
But today, I come not to bury me, but to praise me. I bought a scale this weekend. I vowed to weigh myself every day, first thing in the morning. And here are the results, beginning August 1: 199.54 pounds, 201.96, 199.87, 199.32. For you metric folk: 90.7 kg, 91.8, 90.9, 90.6. For you British folk who measure in stone: Go fist yourselves. Stone? Are you kidding me?
That's three days out of the past four in which I have been under the 200-pound mark. I peaked at 216 in my first month here, thanks to a lethal combination of very little exercise and very many fast-food burgers in California.
I will always remember speaking to a Korean man the first week I was here. I was walking Baldy at Daegu Grand Park, and the man, while petting Baldy, said of the world's cutest Corgi mix: "He is fat. Like the owner." Over the next many months, a combination of walking everywhere and eating less enabled me to drop enough weight so I was visibly leaner, but not enough to dip under the 200-pound mark, a barrier not seen by me in more than 10 years. The latest dip is a credit to my Hapkido master, Teacher Che, who has helped me become more flexible, stronger and slightly leaner.
This leads to one more anecdote about my newly found fitness level. Every Monday, the aerobic exercise is to run 10 laps around the gym in less than two minutes. My first attempt, I finished in 1:54. My next three times -- 1:47, 1:43, 1:39. Just think: If I keep up at this rate, by the beginning of next year, I will complete the 10 laps in 8 seconds.
British pop culture update: The title of this post refers to my favorite android, Kryten, from one of my top 10 shows, "Red Dwarf." He enters many modes, one of which happens to be "smug mode." The quip became a favorite between myself and former Yale teacher Derek Johnstone. Here's another we would refer to quite often:
I shall now return to self-deprecation mode.
Questions, comments, demands or your favorite Red Dwarf moments can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
I think I may have been the beneficiary of one of the easiest promotions a sports team has ever put on.
Saturday night I headed to World Cup Stadium for my first Daegu F-uh C match of the season. In a nutshell, Daegu F-uh C (real name Daegu FC, but in honor of the Kongelish pronunciation in which Koreans add a syllable at the end of F, S and other syllables, I called them F-uh C. In fact, if you're teaching English here and want to have a little fun with the students, have them spell "fish" out loud and they'll say "F-uh, I, S-suh, H-ee. Where am I going with this? I'll start again.)
Daegu World Cup Stadium, capacity 68,000. This is where the Koreans tied the U.S. during the 2002 World Cup.
In a nutshell, Daegu F-uh C is the local pro soccer team in South Korea's top league, the K-League. The good teams draw decent crowds and have strong followings. Daegu F-uh C, not so much. I do know we had one of the country's top young strikers, but I have no idea what happened to him because the English-language media doesn't cover the K-League, so you're stuck with a bunch of Kongelish jokes. Sorry. However, I think Saturday provided some insight as to why Daegu F-uh C does not have enough money to lure top players.
I walked up to the ticket booth. The game had just about started. A group of four people ahead of me had gotten their tickets, so I approached and prepared to pay 6,000 won for my ticket.
And the very nice woman tugged on her pants and asked, "Short pants?"
Um, well ... there's a dress code now? Should my shirt be tucked in as well? "Yes."
"Free."
I'll review this for you. If, on a Saturday night in August, you were wearing shorts in the hottest city in South Korea, you did not have to pay to watch Daegu F-uh C tie Daejeon Citizen 2-2.
And exactly how many people took advantage of this offer?
Bonus World Cup Stadium picture: There is a park located next to the stadium. Here's a shot of one of the sculptures lit up:
Questions, comments, demands or promotion ideas for Daegu F-uh C can be sent here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
