 | |
October 2009
OCT. 30: THERE ARE ONLY 38 HOURS IN A DAY Those of you who say there aren't enough hours in a day won't be in my shoes Monday. I'll have 38 of them -- and I'm not sure I want them all. My day will begin at Dongdaegu train station and end in Newark, Del. In between is a whole lot of nothing, during which I may or may not sleep. Let's start with my train ticket story. I took the subway to the express bus terminal last night, planning to buy two tickets for a bus that would take me from Daegu to Incheon International Airport, which no need to get off and wait for another bus to take me there. One ticket would be for me. The other would be for Baldy, who has ridden on trains twice before, as evidenced by this photo:
I approached the ticket window worried that I wouldn't be able to pull this off, but deep down I was confident. After, I tend to worry about things I don't need to, which means my worries about not pulling this off were unfounded. Follow? Anyway, I arrived armed with the date of the trip, a copy of the photo you see above, and my cell phone photo of Baldy. I handed everything to the woman behind the counter, and she responded by laughing hysterically and showing everything to her co-worker. I guessed she was amused by one of two things: Baldy's big ears, or the fact that I wanted Baldy on the bus. Either way, it wasn't good. Eventually she spoke to a driver (or someone who looked like a driver), and through the magic of sign language and words I could not understand, he told me he could place Baldy and the kennel underneath with the luggage. I told him, through the magic of sign language and words he could not understand, that Baldy more than likely would die under there. So the man told me, in no uncertain terms, Baldy would not be allowed on the bus. And I told him, in no uncertain terms, to go fist himself. Actually, I called the 24-hour tourist line. I knew Korean tourism probably would not convince a bus company to change its policy, but at the very least I'd talk to someone who understood English and could reiterate to the Koreans what I wanted. And perhaps the kind tourist worker could tell a fellow Korean to give the foreigner with the world's cutest Corgi mix a break. Again, the answer was no; specifically, the tourist woman told me the bus worker "didn't know" if Baldy would be allowed, so I took it as a no, thanked the tourism woman, and delivered an icy cold stare to the bus company employees to let them know their policy sucked. Koreans don't like it when a person shows anger. I am generally a compliant guest here, but this was one instance where I felt justified to express my displeasure. It's not directed at Korea; most people here are great and I'm thankful to feel at home here. But the bus company sucks and I had no problem letting them know it.
That bus would have been the most economical use of my time. It is scheduled to leave Daegu at 2:40 a.m. and arrive at Incheon Airport around 7. That would have given me more than three hours to drop Baldy off at quarantine and check in my luggage. Instead, I have Plan B:
You likely noticed that I'll have some time to kill. There's more! The flight lasts about 13.5 hours. And when I land in Dulles Airport, it will be 9:50 a.m. on Monday -- 50 minutes before my plane left Incheon. I'll collect Baldy at quarantine, and, after a check-up and inspection of the rabies certificate, it's off to a shuttle to pick up a rental car. I will drive for the first time in more than 12 months. My likely first stop: Bob and Edith's Diner in Arlington, Va., one of my favorite haunts back in the day when I thought I had a good journalism career ahead of me. I imagine Baldy and I will head to the national Mall after that, because nothing says Americana like Baldy posing next to Abraham Lincoln, before I drive north to Newark, Del., to spend the night with my cousin, his wife, their children and dog. Talk about your case of the Mondays. Ten and a half hours before I board a plane, 13 and a half hours on a plane, 14 hours after I land. That's 38 hours. If all goes well, I will stay up all the way to Seoul, doze on the bus to Incheon, and be so tired when I board the plane that I sleep for at least seven hours on the plane. A seven-hour sleep before landing at 9:50 a.m. would be a good way to at least make the jet lag tolerable, or so I think, which probably means I'm wrong. Don't be alarmed; I am usually wrong once or twice a year. Meanwhile, in honor of 38, here's a link to Mr. Bloody Sock's blog. I also have donated $38 to one of his pet causes, the ALS Foundation, which raises money to research and hopefully cure Lou Gehrig's Disease. So now you know what my Monday is going to be like. I wonder what I should call it ... Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. OCT. 28: I DREAM OF BILL AND IT ASSISTS IN LIFTING WHICH WORLDWIDE IS FAMOUS That headline probably makes no sense to you right now. After you enjoy this photo album, however, well, quite frankly, it still won't make any sense. But that's what we love about South Korea. The album was put together by teachers/happy couple Simon Wegner and Catherine Andrewes. It includes many things that don't really define Korea but certainly add to its charm: cars parking on sidewalks, heart-shaped windows to let you know that thingy is available, the Bee Man, a genuine-sort-of-but-then-again-maybe-not Western shop, and Kongelish menus that which you would corral delicious. Sorry. Very contagious. (Side note: I firmly believe a Kongelish essay writing contest would be gold. Who do I see to start this? And to charge an entry fee?) So anyway, the album is titled Ah, Korea, my nutty home, and I would like to thank Simon for giving me permission to link to it, so both of my loyal readers can enjoy it. Travel note: I leave here in less than a week. Still trying to wrap my head around that. For those who care, I will arrive in the U.S. on Monday, Nov. 2, and leave the U.S. on Dec. 7. That will be followed by a week off in South Korea, as a precaution to any swine flu I may or may not contract in the States, before I begin work on the 14th. More thoughts on my first year and my hopes for Year 2 when I feel like it, or when someone pays me 11 million won, whichever comes first. Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. OCT. 25: HOW THE TITLE WAS JI-WAN I've seen celebrations before, but never players dousing a home run hitter with bottled water before he reached first base. But then again, I haven't seen a Game 7 like I did Saturday. The Kia Tigers are champions of Korean baseball for the 10th time, after Na Ji-wan blasted a tiebreaking, one-out, solo homer in the ninth inning to give his team a 6-5 win over the two-time defending champion SK Wyverns in the winner-take-all Korean Series contest.
The game -- played at a neutral site in Seoul, because Kia's stadium is too small -- lasted more than four hours, and the teams combined to use 15 pitchers who threw 310 pitches. All seven of SK's pitching changes occurred in the final five innings, during which they blew a 5-1 lead. Five of the 15 pitchers exited after 10 or fewer pitches. All hands on deck, indeed. In a rather cruel blow, the winning homer came off Chae Byeong-Young, who started and won Game 4. He came in to start the ninth, recorded an out, and then, shortly after the Kia fans serenaded Na with their version of "La Bamba," this happened. By the way, each Korean team is allowed to have two foreign players on the roster. Each team's starting pitcher for the season-deciding game was an American: SK's Gary Glover (career 29-26, 5.03 ERA in eight MLB seasons) and Kia's Rick Guttormson (who never played in the major leagues and was 55-61, 3.76 in eight minor league seasons). UPDATE: Just read some English-language articles about the game and found four noteworthy nuggets. 1. This is the second time in the history of the Korean Series that a walk-off home run clinched the title. In 2002, it happened against the LG Twins, managed by Kim Sung-geon. Saturday, it happened against the SK Wyverns, managed by ... well, you probably know by my set-up, don't you? Kim Sung-geon. Thanks, JoongAng Daily. 2. SK pitcher Chae Byung-ryong had a rough postseason, pitching five times in about two weeks despite battling a shoulder injury since July. The 27-year-old is off to Japan to have surgery. And after that, he's returning to Korea for his mandatory stint in the South Korean army. Thanks again, JoongAng Daily. 3. This year's Korean Series was the first to reach a winner-take-all Game 7 since 2003, when the Hyundai Unicorns beat the Wyverns. But the record for the most games in a Korean Series occurred the following year, when the Unicorns and Samsung Lions played nine games in their best-of-seven series. You're thinking that you just read two typos, and I can explain them both. First, there actually was a team called the Unicorns. Second, in Korean baseball, if a playoff game was tied after a certain amount of innings or time, it was declared a tie and the teams simply played the next day. In 2003, the Unicorns won four games, lost two and tied three in the Series. Facts courtesy of Wikipedia, which is never wrong. Note: I know the replay rule was tossed in 2008 but I do not know if it has since been reinstated. 4. The Game 7 hero, Na Ji-wan, began his promising career as a pitcher but became a position player in 2001 because of elbow injuries. In 2008 he became the first player in Kia history to bat cleanup as a rookie in the season opener. And Saturday, the 25-year-old DH became a hero. Thanks again, Wikipedia, which, if it was never wrong 30 seconds ago, remains never wrong now. Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. OCT. 22: NOT QUITE 776.5 FEET OFF THE GROUND Your humble baby blogger is growing up. Saturday evening I conquered my fear of heights by traveling up the tallest tower in South Korea, the N Seoul Tower. That's right -- it is the N Seoul Tower, with the N standing for "not high enough to scare the bejeezus out of Fitz." Actually, it stands for the new Seoul Tower, which was completed in 1980.
N Seoul Tower stands at 236.7 meters, or 776.5 feet. I viewed Seoul from the comfort of the third- and second-level observatories. I scoured the Internet to find the height of those observatories, and like any true journalist, I quit after a minute to check out the latest news on Balloon Boy. Here are some pictures looking down upon Seoul in all its grandeur:
Baseball playoffs update: I mentioned a few posts ago that the Doosan Bears, who needed only one win at home to clinch a best-of-5 semifinal playoff series against the hottest team in the league, was on the verge of choking. Well, they choked big-time. And they didn't take it lightly either. A Bears pitcher drilled one of the SK Wyverns in the seventh inning of a blowout loss. The batter retaliated by spiking the catcher as he tried to score. A blog post about it is here. The best-of-7 Korean Series between the Wyverns and top-seeded Kia Tigers is tied 2-2. In other baseball news, the Yankees ... well, I don't want to talk about it. Get your muscle rehab and batting practice here: My physical therapy on my calves ended on a fun note today. A few clients decided to kill time in one of the gym rooms by playing baseball with a spongy ball and a plastic toy bat. I watched from the massage table until one of the young men gave me the bat. A few swings later, Dr. Cho decided that our behavior wasn't suitable -- he took the ball, sent two guys across the hallway to the weight room, and threw pitches across the hallway. So we had doctors throwing pitches from in front of a treadmill, across a hallway, to the weight room, where patients swung as hard as they could to hit the ball. Have I mentioned they like their baseball in Korea? Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. For a few hours Saturday, I lived like a king -- except for the part about actually making decisions to impact Korea, or marrying a queen, or throwing lavish parties, or actually living in a palace. But I did visit the largest palace in Seoul: Gyeongbokgung, home of the rulers of the Korean peninsula's last royal dynasty.
Gyeongbokgung has had quite the history over its six-plus centuries. It was founded in 1395, expanded over the next 197 years, and then burned to the ground by the Japanese. After 273 years of being left alone, the palace was rebuilt in 1868. A king added a palace within the palace in 1873. The Japanese invaded Korea in 1910 and five years later decided to clear some land for an expo by tearing down 90 percent of Gyeongbokgung's buildings. Restoration of the palace began again in 1990, and most of it is in place again. The main gate is scheduled to be completed in its original location next year; meanwhile, a watch tower that was part of the main gate remains standing in its original place, now in the middle of a busy intersection. This is where a language was invented, a queen was assassinated, and I paid a visit. I will leave it up to you to determine the order of importance. The palace regularly re-creates ceremonies from back in the day -- I caught the Elders Banquet and the changing of the guard.
I have posted 88 photos on Facebook, and you can view them here, even if you are not on Facebook. I've included more info about the palace in captions for those photos. So don't be shy -- click on the link, see the sights and learn more about the topsy-turvy history of Seoul's largest palace.
Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. OCT. 16: PHOTOS: COLORFUL DAEGU FESTIVAL Just in case you didn't know, Daegu is colorful. Last weekend the city celebrated by holding its Colorful Daegu Festival along the river. I dropped by on a sunny and lazy Saturday, and true to my nature, I spent as much time heading to the place than actually staying there. Part of the reason is, I had to walk to the subway and take the 15-minute ride. Another reason is, once I exited the stop, I did not know where to go. I stopped by a Dunkin Donuts -- you know, to get directions, and it had nothing to do with loading up on donuts or anything -- where the very nice people behind the counter had no idea what the Colorful Daegu Festival was. And it's not because of the language barrier; the festival's pronunciation in Korean is, pretty much, "Colorpul Daegu Festibal." The good news is, I met a couple of very cool families, as five kids held a contest to see who could high-five me the hardest. My instincts told me to head toward the bridge and walk along the river. My instincts were right -- unlike, for example, my instinct earlier this week that the Red Sox had the Angels right where they wanted them. Oops. But enough about me; let's talk about my photos ...
Bonus cab story: In our neighborhood we have "taxicab corner," a place where nine times out of 10 a cab will be waiting outside a stationery store to pick up a willing passenger. For the second time in three days, I met the same driver to take me to the hospital for physical therapy. Before I could tell him where to go, he told me. And then, for the second time in a row, he switched the radio to a station geared for the U.S. soldiers stationed in Daegu without any prompting from me. I thought this was an awesome gesture, and certainly one he didn't have to do -- in part because it's his cab and he should listen to what he likes, and in part because the station he changed to plays a lot of crap. So I told him, in my best sign language and friendly tone, that he could listen to the previous station. And to no surprise whatsoever, he had no idea what I was saying. He eventually switched to a classical music station, which was fine by me. Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. OCT. 16: THAT'S WHAT I GET FOR ASKING A quick anecdote from today. I'm teaching one of my favorite classes, a fifth-grade reading/writing group. I'm teaching the future tense. The book has broken down future tense into various scenarios, including plans ("I'm going to meet friends tonight"), predictions in which there is evidence ("It's going to rain") and predictions in which there is no evidence ("You will run into an alien someday"). I asked the class to provide an example of a future tense statement where there is no evidence. The answer ... "You will marry." More about schooling: Koreans attend school for 12 years after kindergarten. They have six years of elementary school, and they're called E1, E2, etc. So the fifth-grade class in the above anecdote is, in Korean terms, an E5 class. Then they have three years of middle school and three years of high school. The latter three years are considered the hardest; students often quit academies at this age because high school gives them everything they can handle. Students even stay at high school to study, sometimes, pushing midnight, before they grab 4-5 hours of sleep and start the next day. I've also been told that some children attend kindergarten for three years before they begin elementary school. Bonus Siji nightlife photos
Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. OCT. 14: THE DAY I CONDEMNED A STUDENT TO DEATH (AND OTHER KOREAN SUPERSTITIONS) Several weeks ago, after I finished correcting a student's fifth-grade writing homework, I thought it might be prudent to actually know whose work I was grading. Upon learning that the book belonged to the new student in class, I took the liberty of writing her English name (Emma) on the inside cover of her workbook. I returned the book to her, only to see a dumbstruck and somewhat horrified look on her face. She pointed to her name. "Red," she pointed out. Well, yes, I wrote her name in red. I corrected the homework with my red pen so the students could easily see them. And when it came time to write Emma's name on the book, I didn't bother changing pens. Turns out I should have. In South Korea, when a name is written in red ink, it means they are about to die. (In a related story, U.S. right-wing talk show hosts have asked their listeners to send postcards to South Korea with Barack Obama's name in red ink.) You'll be pleased to know that Emma remains alive and healthy. Perhaps that's because our class is on the third floor. The situation might be different a floor above. Four is bad luck in South Korea, because the Korean word for 4 -- at least for dates, money, minutes, addresses and phone numbers -- is sa, which also happens to sound like the word for "death." Witness the elevators at Yale Language School, where the fourth floor is marked with an "F":
Other superstitions include ghosts coming out at midnight looking for something to eat, waiting until a baby is 100 days old to properly celebrate their birth (many parents won't let babies younger than that go outside), and not keeping a fan on in a room with the windows shut. More superstitions can be found by clicking on this link and this one. And enjoy this YouTube clip of Stevie Wonder performing "Superstition" live on, of all places, "Sesame Street":
Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. OCT. 9: TODAY'S BREAKFAST: EGGS, TOAST, RED SOX I have blogged before about watching North American playoffs games here in South Korea, as well as the ability to watch most sporting events on the Internet in general. But the baseball playoffs seem to be a different animal. MLB is protecting its officially licensed TV broadcasts, as is its right, which means I am listening to the Red Sox-Angels ALDS opener as I write this. For the first day of the playoffs, only the Dodgers-Cardinals game was available on my favorite Internet streaming site, and the stream I had paused every six seconds or so. So I resorted to buying MLB's postseason Internet package, which, in a perfect world, shows every game on the Internet internationally. However, there is this small, teeny, somewhat significant caveat. Live showings are blacked out in South Korea. I learned the reason is that South Korea has its own rights issues, which presumably means Korean TV will show the games. And yet Sox-Angels is not on my TV at this point. The fourth showing of last night's Korean playoff game, however, is. (More on that below.) But enough of what I don't have. here is what I have: The radio feed featuring the Sox's official broadcast team, video highlights of key plays shortly after they happen (has Torii Hunter's home run landed yet?), running stats, and the ability to follow things as they happen. And given that the starting times allow me to listen when I am not at work, I should be able to follow every game, although I'm looking at staying awake past 4 a.m. Monday for Game 3. Korean playoff update: So much for playoff baseball favoring the hot team -- or is that a myth anyway? I feel it's the latter. Here in Korea, the two-time defending champion SK Wyverns closed out the regular season unbeaten in 20 straight games. Nineteen were wins. One was a tie, which happens in Korea after 12 innings. Their reward was a second-place finish and the chance to set their rotation for the second-round series. And right now they are a game from being eliminated. The Doosan Bears have won the first two games of the best-of-5 series and will host the next two games in Seoul. Read more about it here. Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here. I suppose I could tell you that the four days I spent in Sokcho, and specifically the two days in Seoraksan National Park, produced the most beautiful scenery I've witnessed. But I don't know how much weight that would carry, considering I've been to four countries, have yet to visit the Grand Canyon, and had "Yankee fans staring hopelessly and tearfully into space in October 2004" atop my list until the past weekend. So I shall defer to no less an authority than The Guvnor, Steve Moore, who has visited 35 countries. On Sunday, the final day of our trip, he informed me that the peaks, valleys, foliage and waterfalls at South Korea's absolute gem of a park were the most majestic and stunning images he'd ever witnessed. Now, he may have since changed in mind, or just been reacting to the moment, but the point is, a man who has climbed Machu Picchu and hiked trails all over the world thought enough of Seoraksan, which I'll venture to guess doesn't make any non-Koreans' Top 20 list of venues, to place it atop his list.
We both agreed that the term "hidden gem" applies. Anyone with the money to travel to Asia and the hiking gene hidden somewhere in them should go out of their way to visit Sokcho and this national park. I have backed up these words with an unprecedented (for me) photo haul on Facebook; I posted 245 pictures there within three hours of my return home Sunday night, and links to those albums are on this blog entry.
That is the official mascot of Sokcho, a city that lies above the 38th parallel. Note that the mascot's hat is a pair of mountains, and the tail of the hat is an ocean wave. Sokcho is one of those rare cities that has beach and mountains (see the photo below), and I took advantage of both.
Day 1: Arriving in Sokcho. The journey began in Daegu with a 5:30 wake-up call, after a tripleheader of Black Adder, The Young Ones and Fawlty Towers on DVD. Our group -- fellow Yale teacher and experienced climber Jen Wright, fellow Yale teacher and hiking enthusiast Anne Hendler, and fellow Gyeongju Marauders and world travelers Steve Moore and George "Soju" Woods -- boarded the bus before 7 and left at 7:10. We traveled east to Pohang and up the coast, and dare I say that aside from the three times the bus began in forward gear instead of reverse leaving the terminals, and the hiccuping gear shifts, that the drive was quite pleasant. Eight hours later we arrived at our hostel, where Yoo, as he does to every guest, pulled out a map and showed us various hiking and eating possibilities. We then explored the nearby port area, ate at an all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue joint (7,000 won -- the best bargain by far I've experienced here) and watched two more "Blackadder" episodes before turning in for my second straight sub-four-hour night of sleep. Photo album
Day 2, part 1: Climbing the mountain. I woke up around 5:30, ate breakfast, caught a bus and was ready to ascend the mountain before 8 a.m. I woke up around 5:30, ate breakfast, caught a bus and was ready to ascend the mountain before 8 a.m. Yes, I just wrote that twice -- I had to, in order to believe it. There was no entry fee at the gate to the trail, only a small cabin and a helpful sign telling us how to stretch. Our climb up Daechongbong Peak -- the tallest in the park at 1,708 meters (5,603 feet) -- would cover about 5 km of steep stairs and rocky paths. At some points I climbed hard for 30-45 seconds, only to stop, look up and wonder when the climb ended. Other times we heard, but could not see, running water. The Guvnor, George and I made decent time, reaching the summit in a little more than three hours; the park tells climbers it will take about four. Photo album
Day 2, part 2: The descent into the valley. Cruelly, the descent included another peak shortly after the summit. Not so cruelly, the 5 1/2-hour, 10-kilometer descent provided the best scenery of the trip. It seemed that I celebrated every turn by reaching into my pocket for my camera. Photo album
Day 3: Beachee! The only reason I left bed before 11:30 was to take advantage of the hostel's free breakfast (cereal, toast, coffee, Internet). While Anne and Jen decided that the weekend would not be complete unless they strained every muscle fiber in their legs, Guvnor, George and I headed to Sokcho Beach. This lacked the wall-to-wall umbrellas and noise of Haeundae, which was fine with us. Random sight of the day: As the three of us walked down the main drag, we heard a rustle and a gasp. I turned around to see two older women wince as a live fish attempted to escape the plastic bag they were carrying from a market. Photo album Day 4: Cable car. We returned to the mountain for a rather less strenuous trip to a peak. This time a cable car would carry us 670 meters to the Gwongeumseong Forrtess and more stunning views of Sokcho and the park. Here is a link to the photo album, and here is a video I shot of the descent: Questions etc. can be sent to me here, or leave a comment on the Mark Fitzhenry's "Korea Blogging!" page here.
|
|
