Here are two people playing badminton in the park where I take Baldy twice a day for a walk. Notice there is no net, nor are their lines. They're just batting the shuttlecock back and forth. Kids also will hit baseballs and kick soccer balls, just because. And finally, to the right you will see the blooming cherry blossoms, a sight I haven't seen in March since my days in D.C.
I was walking through the Beomeo neighborhood, where I lived for a few days before I got situated in Siji, this evening and passed this place:
When I first arrived here, I divided my time between getting to know South Korea and getting to know my school. I believe more time was consumed with the former.
In my first full day here, I had a short list of things to buy. Razors. Shampoo. Dishwashing liquid. Pens and paper. I was unfamiliar with the money system here and was rather intimidated entering a convenience store armed with two words (both hopelessly mispronounced) of Hangul under my belt. I had no idea what things were supposed to cost, or if I was being ripped off (which doesn't happen often). So imagine my relief when I saw the familiarity of an Office Depot.
Granted, I still didn't know Hangul, but the prices in there were clearly marked. I knew what I had and I knew what items cost. But my best memory comes from meeting the staff, who I presume was a family. Not only did I buy pens and paper, but they offered me coffee and a pastry. It was a nice welcome to my new home, and walking by the place today reminded me of that.
On Saturday during lunchtime here in Daegu, it was actually Friday night in the States – which meant the round of eight’s late games were in progress. Now seems as good a time as any to introduce you to the Internet sports culture in Korea, and it can be summarized as follows: If you care enough about a sporting event (here or anywhere), there’s a decent chance you can find it, perhaps even live.
My buddy Andy – if you don’t know him already, I introduced you to him in November – and I headed downtown in hopes of catching the aforementioned NCAA tourney game between his Jayhawks and Michigan State.
Here's Andy at the subway stop. "You see, I didn't even need you to tell me what stop to meet you at, because 'Jungang' means the center of town and ..." Oh, shut up.
When we arrived, the restaurant’s one TV was showing an NHL game between Vancouver and Colorado, live, as shown by the Avalanche’s local affiliate, Altitude. It’s worth noting that I could not always watch Altitude in Colorado Springs, but here I was in Korea, watching said channel thanks to the wonders of a slingbox.
Basically, with a slingbox, you can use the Internet to watch a TV you have set up at home. This enables many Westerners here to watch all of their American (or Canadian) shows while they are here. This is legal, although I do not know if this is legal in a restaurant, which is why I have decided not to name the place where Andy and I experienced our wonderful meal with incredibly friendly service. Nothing personal, Restaurant I Will Not Name. Just looking out for you.
So Andy and I watched the conclusion of the Canucks adding misery upon the poor Avalanche (while the Bruins remain in first, thank you very much, Annoying Avalanche Fans Who Think You Know Everything Because You Were Handed A Stanley Cup The First Year Your Team Arrived), followed by Michigan State’s rally over Kansas, which was part of what looked like a subscription package specifically geared for watching online. I don't question the legality of the stream. I just don't know if restaurants are allowed to show it.
One doesn’t need a slingbox to watch sports here, however. I’ve gotten by many a time with the Internet, thanks especially to this site and this one. I watched American’s first-round loss to Villanova on CBS, which showed all first-round games for free worldwide. I’ve stayed up until 6 a.m. to watch the Patriots throttle the future NFC champions. I’ve even been called upon twice at a pub to search for a game they hoped to show on the big screen (after much searching and installing, I found them).
It’s actually gotten to the point where you feel like a failure if you are unable to watch a sporting event anywhere, anytime.
Did you see both episodes when Madness was on "The Young Ones"? Didn't they kick ass? Explain why here.
Our school held a going-away bash for teachers Derek Johnstone and Joe Buscemi, starting with dinner on Wednesday night and ending at a Nuri Bang -- that's a singing room -- sometime around 5 a.m. (at least for me). This blog entry won't come close to documenting everything that happened. There are not enough words and pictures to do that. But rest assured, Joe and I did kick off our Nuri Bang session with "Born To Run," and rest assured you will have to let your imagination take over from there.
Here's a video of the party at Dong Moong Tigi, our favorite pork restaurant. I wanted to take a photo for you to appreciate how the Korean and foreign teachers all came out to drink, eat, drink, take photos, drink, pass along their well-wishes, and drink. But I couldn't fit all the tables in one frame. So you get video. Other than the people against the far wall at the 28-second mark, everyone there is from Yale.
And here's one of our tables, once Hurricane Yale passed through:
The first two teachers arrived around 8:45 p.m. At 1 a.m., we were still there, and almost all of our current staff (as well as a few former members) crammed together for a group photo:
This may surprise you, but I'm a little self-conscious about appearing in photos. So, yes, those eyes and nose between two Korean teachers in the middle back belong to me. Photo courtesy of Lia Ortiz-Koons.
Once we were "finishee" (a little teaching humor, sorry), we headed downtown to Commune's Lonely Hearts Club.
This is Jun, a Korean teacher who also is leaving at the end of the month. He joined the band at Commune's to play bass and sing on "Wonderful Tonight."
This is Jim, who once taught at Yale, playing drums. Unlike Jun, the band did not invite him to join in. But nobody was on the drums, so Jim just figured he'd get on up there and play. Sometimes he came in on time. Other times he didn't. He seemed to like it, though, and to their credit the other two musicians didn't appear bothered. Forgive the blurriness, but this moment is just damn funny -- the notion of a bar patron just walking up there and joining the band -- that I took a photo. Jim later told me: "I went up. For no reason, I ruined it." And he said it with a smile -- as well he should have.
Will you walk with me out on the wire? 'Cause baby I'm just a scared and lonely rider but I've got to know how it feels, so tell me here.
When I first arrived at my school in South Korea, and I asked around about that night's plans, most people directed me to Derek Johnstone.
So I approached Mr. Johnstone and informed him that he was the pledge representative to the social committee. He knew which movie I was quoting (although two of his favorite quotes come from this scene). And from that moment on, I figured things would click.
Photo by Thomas Finn.
Derek and I always found time to discuss football (and by that I mean soccer, but this is a tribute to Derek, a Scot, so I’m calling it football). We shared our favorite lines from “BlackAdder” and “The Young Ones.” He not only told me he didn’t like the Beatles, but he went on about how people always would assume he pretended to dislike the Beatles, which would only increase the exasperation levels to volume 11. And with Derek, that was always quite a sight – arms flailing, shoulders tensing, voice rising, and finally, a sigh, and it was over. On to the next argument. And can I buy you a drink?
Derek will be remembered for many reasons, but the highlight had to be the night he invited us to his apartment for a Burns supper. He made cock-a-leekie soup and a vegetarian haggis. Wait -- what is real haggis, you ask? Basically, a sheep's heart, liver and lungs boiled in his stomach. We had no sheep, so Derek used vegetables and lentils for the edible stuff. And instead of the stomach, he used a shirt. Trust me, it worked. He also bought a plaid shirt at E-Mart and converted it into his very own kilt. And I know what your next question is. I didn't ask. He put on quite the show that served all of our purposes well. It was his way of bringing a bit of home to Korea, and we got to experience something new and fun with friends.
I asked Derek to answer some questions so y’all get to know him a little better. On a personal note, Derek, my time in Korea has been better for meeting you. For all the worrisome talk about the Korean economy and the exchange rate against the won, the fact is, you can’t put a price on friendship or a bang-up hour in a Nuri Bang. You have completed your contract here and have more good times ahead of you. I offer nothing but the most sincere contrafibularities.
Why did you come here? I wanted to live in an Asian country and I also wanted to try teaching. Korea seemed like the ideal place to do both.
What are your future plans? My plan is to vacation for a week or so in Japan before flying to Malaysia or Thailand. From there I intend to spend 6 to 8 weeks getting myself to Vietnam, where I hope teach for a year.
Name something (or things) you're proud of doing during your time here that you could not have done anywhere else. Because of my love of the mountains, I've probably seen more of Korea than most visitors to the country do. (Editor’s note: We have several mountains overlooking our neighborhood.)
What was the most pleasant surprise about Korea? How much I enjoy teaching and working with kids.
What was the least pleasant surprise about Korea? How difficult it can be to get around if you don't speak Korean.
What does Korea do well that the rest of the world should pick up on? You cannot fail to be impressed with the value they place on education.
You will miss ... my friends, the kids at school, my favourite mountain runs and the friendliness of the Korean people.
You won’t miss ...kimchi.
Did it feel like a year? More like 3 weeks!
That's Derek performing his prize-winning limerick at the Yale Christmas Party. Photo by Cindy Boyes.
Did you think it was over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Tell me about it here.
That's my younger niece, Sarah, who is flaunting Uncle Mark's very late birthday gift back home in Keene, N.H. My mom says it's the hit of the Franklin Elementary School playground -- and moms never lie, especially about their grandchildren.
Teaching English in Korea, a business that is conducted almost exclusively on one-year contracts, is almost always going to be a temporary job for foreigners – and that reality is hitting me and my co-workers this week.
Tonight, I joined seven teachers for drinks and dessert at my former boss’ apartment. Patricia Edmonds has spent 2 ½ years in Korea and has been my boss at the Siji branch of
Yale Language School in Daegu. She has put together our schedules, ordered books, organized the Christmas party (while recruiting me to be Santa Claus), served as a sounding board and a neighborhood tour guide, and done at least 20 other things I’m sure I don’t know about. She kept things running smoothly. It was never about her, yet we couldn't do what we do without her. I wish her nothing but safe travels back to Vancouver and success in whatever she tries next.
And that's just the first of two goodbye get-togethers in a four-day span.
The two gentlemen on the right are Joe Buscemi (far right) and Derek Johnstone (middle). They are finished by the end of the month, and we’ll be dining in their honor on Wednesday night. True to their social acumen, the Korean and foreign teachers have been invited and I expect about 20 well-wishers to drink and scarf down kimchi on their behalf. Andrew Lancaster (left) leaves in early April.
This has been quite the reality check to listen to these guys talk about their plans for the upcoming weeks. Derek’s planning to meet Andy in Seoul for the World Cup qualifier between North Korea and South Korea – and while he’s there he plans on visiting the Demilitarized Zone that separates the north and south. Derek's also planning sojourns to Japan and Thailand, and he might end up teaching in either country. Joe's heading to Macau, Hong Kong and Thailand before he returns to the U.S. -- or maybe he and Derek will just meet up in Bangkok and open up their own English Academy for learning quality karaoke songs.
It’s worth mentioning that, in December, I enjoyed the Seoul trifecta of visiting an Irish bar, gay bar and tranny show in a two-hour span, and Derek and Joe were along for the ride. And unless you’ve heard a tranny sing from “Annie,” I wouldn’t scoff. Truly a life changing event.
Plans change, of course, but I’ll do my best to provide a fitting tribute to the lads before they head off. Until then, I’ll tip my hat to Joe with this video from one of his favorite artists:
Permission to enter smug mode, sir: Of his upcoming trip to the DMZ, Derek informs me that nobody in Europe says “Z,” instead saying “zed.” Diplomatic Scotsman that he is, Derek informs me that the use of “zee” is one of the few things the Americans have done properly to the language.
Recommended reading: Fellow American University alum and journalism vet Jim Brady is traveling throughout America with his wife and two dogs. And this being 2009, he’s blogging about it in Fred and Hank Mark America. If you want to learn about one dog’s irrational fear of windshield wipers, poignant stories about New Orleans, random encounters, Civil War history, Presidential nuggets, Jim's obsession with movie scores, and musings about the imminent disappointment that is the New York Jets (and that never gets old), it’s a great read.
Are you rooting for South Korea to win the World Baseball Classic? Me too! Tell me your reason here.
After reading my March 16 post about the air raid practice (not a raid, not the actual raid ... oh, never mind), my sister sent me this question: How do they know if it's just practice or if it’s a real air raid?
I posed that very reasonable question to my most reliable middle school reading/writing class. The answer was a simple one. There were notes posted on the elevators of their apartment complexes. And this being South Korea, the note probably was written in Hangul and not English. So chances are the note was on my building as well, but for obvious reasons, I would not have been able to read it.
Like the blog? You'd better. Email me regardless here.
I’m no world traveler, but after nearly five months here, I can’t imagine other countries' commercials can ramp up the camp like South Korea. I’ve seen singing toddlers give each other baths, co-workers dance by a vending machine, and a comedian recoil in horror at the price of his café bill while he sits next to a table that has a bomb lodged in it. I have seen the latter for two months now, and despite asking any Korean with 20 words of English knowledge for an effective synopsis, I have no clue what the hell is going on, but so help me I will find out before I leave, even if it kills me (and it just might).
One of the more popular commercials making the rounds now is a 15-second ditty for Hauzen air conditioners:
That is 18-year-old figure skater Kim Yu-Na, who is one of South Korea’s most popular athletes. She most recently won the Four Continents championship, which is the rest of the world’s answer to the European championship. (Actually, the event covers five continents, because North and South America are combined into “the Americas,” thus opening the door for all of those Argentine and Brazilian skaters who otherwise wouldn’t have a chance to win a medal at a major competition.)
It’s worth noting that Yu-Na is not only lending her dance moves, but her singing voice. You: “Yeah, but 90 percent of the lyrics are ‘sing’ and ‘Hauzen.’ ” Me: “Fair enough, so allow me to present Exhibit B.”
The song is “Can You Hear Me?” It's so popular that it already has two hit versions, one sung by a man, the other (and original) by a woman (not Yu-Na). Yu-Na performed this version at Angels on Ice, a charity show held in Seoul on Christmas that raised 140 million won (about $100,000 US give or take, given the exchange rate). The money, according to this report, will be used (or has been already) to help children suffering from rare diseases.
Kim Yu-Na: teenager, skating queen, vocalist, pitchwoman, philanthropist. Sing sing!
So can you explain that commercial with the bomb in the table? Or perhaps you just want to see David Ortiz sing "Puttin' On The Ritz." Either way, please email me here.
If there’s one thing I pride myself in, it’s using all available resources so I can teach English to Korean elementary and middle school students. This post will shed light on some of my secrets that, once they’re public, will cause scholars to convene and ask the question that’s bound to confound the English as a Second Language community for months: “Will this clown ever stop talking about the Red Sox?”
Yes, that is a Red Sox doll. And you’re probably thinking, “Oh, I get it. You’re teaching all of your students how to say ‘annoying’ and ‘insufferable.’ ” That’s not true. Only my middle school students get to learn “annoying” and “insufferable.” For my younger students, however, there is a much more practical purpose. Here is your hint:
Do you notice how Doll A is taller than Doll C? Can you point to which one is the shortest? Or the tallest? Which doll is fatter, A or E? That’s right – through the magic of Red Sox Bubushka dolls, Koreans learn how to use comparisons for two items, and also for more than two items. To quote one of my former fifth-grade students, “I am genius!”
I also can do what I did today. I put the largest doll on the desk. The other five rested on the blackboard shelf. To repeat: That doll is on the desk. Those dolls are on the shelf. I can hold one doll and tell them this doll is in my hand. I can walk to the other dolls and point out that these dolls are over here. Another lesson learned. Nine more Koreans smarter than they were 50 minutes ago. I am genius!
This is Spud – a Christmas gift from the world’s cutest nieces, Kate and Sarah. And yes, Sis, I agree now would be a good time to show them:
Spud is a hit among many students, especially those who like to turn his eyes, nose and mouth upside down or twist his feet backwards. More practically speaking, he helps them understand prepositions. Spud is on the desk. Spud is under the desk. Spud is between the books. Spud is next to the pencil case. And so on.
So there you have it. The Boston Red Sox: Helping the world’s youth speak English properly. Perhaps one day they can help Yankees fans do the same.
Do you have another use for Red Sox souvenirs? Send me an email here.
This is from Saturday night, when I took him for a walk around Daegu Grand Park, next to the World Cup Stadium. Hardly anyone was there, so it was a great opportunity for him to get his ya-yas out. Hey, what a great excuse to close this blog entry with some Stones:
On a day named for a saint, I visited the world’s largest Buddha.
Thanks for taking this for me, Lee Kyung Jin, Daegu City Culture Tourist Guide.
The site was Donghwasa Temple, about 22 kilometers from downtown Daegu. For those of you who can’t figure out kilometers, I’ll word it another way. It took a while to get there. A 12-minute walk to the subway station. About 25 minutes on the subway. Ten minutes walking around Chilseong Market, looking for the bus stop. Ten more minutes waiting for the right bus. Twenty minutes on said bus until it pulled over and the driver told me he wasn’t going to the temple. Three minutes walking to another stop. Two minutes tops to wait, although two Koreans debated if the approaching bus was the right one. It was. Are you still here? You’re not searching the Net for Heidi Watney pictures, are you? Good. Because in the time it took you to read this, I finally arrived at the temple.
I’m not an expert in Buddhism, nor will I become one in the next day. So much of this information has been double-checked online, or will be taken at the word of Lee Kyung Jin, who is without a doubt the most talented tourism guide in Daegu. She handed me an English version of the tour pamphlet, left her post and walked with me for at least an hour, and told me this: “My husband and son love all the Boston sports teams.” More on that later.
There are about 200 monks living on the grounds. They are, Kyung Jin said, studying in one of two ways. They are meditating, or they are studying to gain as much knowledge as possible and spread the word. I was allowed to take pictures of anything that was outside. Monks who were meditating or praying inside were off-limits for photos, but I could see some of them. One more rule: some steps were off-limits to me and other tourists as well. Monks only!
I did get to step in two halls – with shoes off, off course. In the main hall, there were three golden Buddhas and many other colorful ones, maybe 10 on each side by quick count. In another hall, there was a solitary Buddha of stone, no color, but dated to, I think, the first century AD. Monks knelt and bowed by candlelight. You don't want to interrupt the monks, but they may acknowledge your presence.
Now and then I’d pass a monk (or monks) in a grey robe (or robes). There was no vow of silence. They talked to each other. I learned after not bowing the first time that one must bow when one sees a monk – hands clasped, bending at the waist. And they smiled and thanked me after I showed how quick a learner I was (although they have yet to see me juggle).
Here is where I entered the ground. Amazingly, I missed the carving of a seated Buddha carved within a stone at the entrance. It’s no big deal, really. It’s just one of a half-dozen or so designated National Treasures – items deemed to have exceptional artistic, cultural and historical value – located at the temple.
The good news is, I saw this:
I really wanted a good story out of this, along the lines of, “Drink this water, and you will have a date by the end of the week.” Or, “Drink this and Lakers fans will stop bitching about Andrew Bynum’s injury.” Or, “One sip, and Alex Rodriguez will choke in the playoffs” – followed by another fountain 5 feet away with a sign that read, “Since when does Alex Rodriguez need help choking in the playoffs?” Alas, it was just spring water. Cold, clean and refreshing to be sure. But just spring water.
These two items are official National Treasures. The first picture is a three-story pagoda near the Geumdangam Hermitage. This was about as close as I could get. The other picture is of two flagpole supports used on special days at the temple; the supports date back to the later years of the Silla Dynasty (57 BC to 935 AD), which coincidentally is also the last time the Dallas Cowboys won a playoff game.
You are looking at the sounds of truth. For more about this, read here.
From the bottom of these ...
... to this spot here, just before another flight of steps takes you into the plaza with the huge Buddha statue ...
... there are 108 steps. As you can read in this article, as well as this one, this is no coincidence. And once you make that final turn, you get ...
I sure hope these photos do justice. The top photo is what I saw when I rounded the corner. It’s the most breathless I have been since I arrived in Korea, Monday’s hike notwithstanding. I just caught myself staring at this beautiful statue, which, for the record, is called the Tongil-daebul Buddha Statue. It stands 33 meters (108.26 feet) tall and measures 16.5 meters (54.1 feet) around. The brochure claims that this is the world’s largest Buddha statue. In front of the statue, there is a long pathway, again for monks only, but anyone is allowed to step onto the mat (shoes off!) and pray. Inside the statue, there are two pieces of Buddha’s bones – a gift from the Myanmar government. And to think, all Myanmar ever gave me was a fruitcake. People come here wishing for unification of the two Koreas. And the Buddha, nice as he is, keeps those wishes.
Here’s a video of 28 sculptures that arch around the Buddha. That female voice you will hear is of Kyung Jin, who lived in Lowell, Mass., for nearly five years while her husband received a doctorate degree. The 28 sculptures are of 14 Sinjang (on the bookends) and 14 Bosal (in the middle). Bosal are close to Buddha in the hierarchy, if I have my facts straight. The Sinjang are there to protect the Bosal and Buddha. (EMBARRASSING VIDEOGRAPHY NOTE: I thought if I held my camera on its side to get the full length of the sculptures, that angle would be reflected in the video. I was mistaken. Lesson learned. Meanwhile, humor me by turning your laptop on a 90-degree angle now. Or just crane your neck.)
This is a statue of one of Heaven's four guardians -- specifically the East portion. For the record, I asked him to play “Freebird.” He ignored me.
For more photos, check out my Facebook page. If you are not part of Facebook, look at these photos I have posted here, close your eyes and guess what my other photos look like.
Any questions about Buddhism? Do your own damn research. Any questions about my visit, or about my impending trip toward enlightenment? Email me here. Thanks for reading.
For more than four months, I have watched countless Koreans in their windbreakers on their backs and canes in their hands, heading to the mountains behind our neighborhood, which is nicknamed “the Foreigner Ghetto” even though Koreans live there too and it’s safe. But that’s another post.
Today, I finally decided to hike. This should have been a no-brainer within my first two weeks. Fresh air plus exercise plus bonding with Baldy plus no need to ask other people to join you equals just go already! So I did, and I wish I had done this sooner.
If the hike itself promised scenery, the lead-up to the trail is, well, whatever the opposite of scenery is (which I believe is “tailgating with Jets fans”). After I crossed the road, I walked through a bus parking lot. Then Baldy and I walked along a dirt road, behind some restaurants, and disappeared under a bridge.
En route to the trail I met an older Korean couple who were very friendly toward Baldy. (They’re pictured to the left, walking ahead of me.) I ran into these people throughout the hike, and by the end they were petting Baldy and calling him by his name.
I remember the first time I saw the couple once I was on the mountain. I arrived at the path. It was a steep son of a gun. (I would have photos of this, but my camera’s battery died, only to inexplicably recharge on its own, then die again just as I had this amazing view looking down upon Daegu World Cup Stadium.) Anyway, the initial climb was quite the workout. The out-of-shape runt was quite the trooper, though. And so was Baldy. Finally, I reached the path where the grade was significantly less – and saw the couple approaching me from a path that had started further down the road and was about four times more gradual.
Here is a video of Baldy during the hike’s early stage:
The hike was very nice. At times I felt like I was back in New England. It was serene. I was surrounded by pines. I was on a mountain. The weather was warm but not unbearable, enough to wear a long-sleeved, dry-fit hiking shirt and feel comfortable.
Whenever there was a semblance of a plateau, there were benches. Some were actual wooden benches, like you’d see in a park. Others looked like this:
The views, many of which I stumbled upon after my camera’s batteries died, were interesting. Some were of a vast valley with faraway peaks. Others were of apartment buildings sprouting like Legos. And there was the aforementioned view of the stadium, which I promise to get next time. I think there were some tombs as well (the bottom pic among these three).
Baldy was awesome throughout. He spent much of the time on his leash, but on the way down it was just easier to let him go on his own – except for one stretch that was so steep there were ropes on either side of the path, tied to trees. But when he went on his own, it allowed me to use my arms for balance. I underestimated the difficulty of walking down the mountain wearing well-worn running shoes and not having a cane. I’m telling you, it’s easy to make fun of people who bring canes to go hiking, but there’s a reason. There’s also a reason I had Baldy on a leash most of the time. The last time I let him go, he motored off the path, ducked his head and retrieved what looked like a thick twig at first, but instead was a hardened, foot-long fish with scales and eyes intact. Yep, that Baldy will eat everything except the food I actually give him.
So that’s how I spent my Monday off. Our school isn't open today and Tuesday because they are “Yale Days.” If I understand the policy right, hagwons (private academies) are allowed to be open a certain amount of days per month. Because we’re open on Saturdays, every now and then we would go over the quota unless we closed for a couple of days. So our teachers are enjoying a four-day weekend. Tomorrow, I’m off on a bus tour to catch parts of Daegu I have yet to visit.
Ask questions or comment by sending me an email here.
This afternoon, I was checking emails and looking forward to our upcoming upset victory over Villanova when a rather loud and surreal wailing rudely interrupted me. It sounded like an air raid siren, and for good reason. It was an air raid siren.
I wasn’t sure how to react. I’ve thought we were being invaded before, when I heard a man speaking even-handedly and matter-of-factly over loudspeakers. Turns out he was selling things and needed customers.
So I did what comes naturally -- I grabbed Baldy and we walked outside. I looked down my street. Nothing unusual – just three people walking calmly. I walked up to the busy intersection. There were a handful of older women, dressed in hiking gear, patiently waiting to cross the street, acting with all the urgency of Donovan McNabb in the Super Bowl. I surveyed the cars on the street. Nobody was doing their best Frank Burns, running around screaming "air raid" before plummeting into a puddle. So I’m thinking: There’s either nothing to worry about, or these South Koreans sure are accepting of their impending death.
The sound stopped. A few minutes later, while I was back inside, the siren wailed for a good 20 seconds. Then it petered out.
A fellow teacher later informed me that South Koreans practice air raid drills regularly, about every three months. Further research on the Internet yielded little. Apparently North Korea holds air raid drills as well. So, with a sigh of relief, I can honestly tell you that we weren't talking about the raid, not the actual raid, when it actually matters, we're talking about ...
Are you just talking about practice? Send me an email here.
En route to the trail I met an older Korean couple who were very friendly toward Baldy. (They’re pictured to the left, walking ahead of me.) I ran into these people throughout the hike, and by the end they were petting Baldy and calling him by his name.
