A "Friendly" Face

People are friendly here. There's no doubting that. Whether you are lost or just asking to buy a pack of cigarettes, they are more than happy to lend a helping hand most of the time. This is not true all the time and sometimes people are too busy to help a women with groceries and a baby into a cab, but that's where the chivilrous Westerners come into the scenario.

There is one man that goes beyond the call of duty. There is one man that is the center of office conversation and there is one man that has a way of making all of us feel downright uncomfortable and, often times, violated. This man is known only as he introduced himself to us after weeks of ambigous conversations and flirtings. He is Mr. Shin. He is the owner and pretty much only employee (by choice) of the 7/11 next to our school. He speaks English well, but chooses to only use the most serious tone when talking to us.

Mr. Shin has a way of taking something very innocent like the weather and turning it into something that is, well, weird. Here's a couple quick examples of how he navigates through conversations with his his two favorites.

I went in the there on a unseasonably warm day in mid-January and bought some yogurt. I was paying and making basic and simple talk with Mr. Shin and he looked at me as if something was really troubling him and with all his might he conjured up something quite odd.

"It is very beautiful outside...like you."

He looked down right away as if he had just confessed a horrible secret. I smiled and gave a polite yet dismissive, "Yeah." and walked out beaming with delight and excitement as I knew I would be sharing this revelation with my fellow teachers.

He has also taken a particular interest in my good buddy, Liam. Liam has a different relationship with him. Mind you, we both have girlfriends and I think I committed the sin of going in there with Go-woon, but had I known Mr. Shin would essentially shun me for the weeks to come I would have reconsidered the seriousness of such a move. So, I want to throw out a couple quotes that Shin has landed on Liam. They are creepy and, in my opinion, blatant attempts to make sure Liam knows that Mr. Shin is "interested" in him.

Liam works in the afternoon and one day he was getting a quick bite to eat in there. Mr. Shin knows all of our habits and diets and is always watching us very closely in there. So, Liam puts his intentioanlly light meal on the counter. Mr. Shin asks him if he had eaten lunch yet and Liam says that he had not, hence the sandwich he was attempting to pay for. Mr. Shin was visibly hurt by this ommission and wanted Liam to know.

"When you say these things...(pause for effect and to display his grief)...I feel regret."

I mean, that is an odd thing to say, but it's not homosexual by any means. Try these two though...

"I would like private time with you."

"Are you ever alone."

Those two came from innocent checkout scenarios. That's odd...

So, now Mr. Shin has become somewhat of a legend for what he says. Liam and I go there just to see what else he's going to say and see who and for what reaosn he's going to snub someone that day. Liam refers to him as our "Demi god".

While I did want to share the Mr. Shin story with you (He's married by the way, but we always joke that he tells his wife, "Why can't you be more like them.") the real point of this was that a lot is misunderstood here. If you recall one of my earlier posts when I was told I looked like a Canadian pop star, you can see that while they are trying to compliment you, it comes out a little odd. I've been told that I am handsome more times than I can count, but most of those were by men rather than women.

Then it made me think. Would Americans even try to compliment a foreigner in our country? Would they even make the attempt to talk to them and share in on a different culture or would they make a crude comment to their friend or think something bad about them to themselves. I know what I think Americans would do, but maybe I'm used the the honesty and genuine kindness that Koreans generate.

What do you think? -or Do you think Mr. Shin really wants private time with Liam or is he just trying to be folksy?

I'd like to share some favorites...

I was turned on to these poets in high school and while they are from different era's there are many commonalities. Howl is very long and hard to follow at times, but he wrote it in three parts. He addresses repressed 1950's America first and how some ingenious minds were alienated or overlooked. They could have helped shape a different America, but were never given the chance. Part II delves into the "industrial machine" and how the people in Part I were sacrificed to create the environment for an industrial civilization to take grips on the minds of the an unsuspecting and malleable society. Part III is a dedication to a man (Carl Solomon) that he met on his path. I have a hard time with this part. He closes by confessing that everything in the world is holy and nothing should be disrespected and overlooked.



Howl
Allen Ginsberg




I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
ery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene-
ment roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy
among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy &
publishing obscene odes on the windows of the
skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn-
ing their money in wastebaskets and listening
to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through
Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in
Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their
torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al-
cohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and
lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of
Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the mo-
tionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery
dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops,
storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon
blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree
vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brook-
lyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless
ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine
until the noise of wheels and children brought
them down shuddering mouth-wracked and
battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance
in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's
floated out and sat through the stale beer after
noon in desolate Fugazzi's, listening to the crack
of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to
pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brook-
lyn Bridge,
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping
down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills
off Empire State out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts
and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks
and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days
and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the
Synagogue cast on the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a
trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic
City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind-
ings and migraines of China under junk-with-
drawal in Newark's bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the
railroad yard wondering where to go, and went,
leaving no broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing
through snow toward lonesome farms in grand-
father night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telep-
athy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos in-
stinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking vis-
ionary indian angels who were visionary indian
angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore
gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Okla-
homa on the impulse of winter midnight street
light smalltown rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston
seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the
brilliant Spaniard to converse about America
and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship
to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving
behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees
and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fire
place Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the
F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist
eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incom-
prehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting
the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union
Square weeping and undressing while the sirens
of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed
down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also
wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked
and trembling before the machinery of other
skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight
in policecars for committing no crime but their
own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were
dragged off the roof waving genitals and manu-
scripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly
motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim,
the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean
love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose
gardens and the grass of public parks and
cemeteries scattering their semen freely to
whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up
with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath
when the blond & naked angel came to pierce
them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate
the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar
the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb
and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but
sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden
threads of the craftsman's loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of
beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a can-
dle and fell off the bed, and continued along
the floor and down the hall and ended fainting
on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and
come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling
in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning
but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sun
rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked
in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad
stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these
poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver-joy
to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls
in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses'
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with
gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely pet-
ticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station
solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in
dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and
picked themselves up out of basements hung
over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third
Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemploy-
ment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on
the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the
East River to open to a room full of steamheat
and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment
cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime
blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall
be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested
the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of
Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their
pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the
bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in
their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned
with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded
by orange crates of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty
incantations which in the yellow morning were
stanzas of gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht
& tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable
kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for
an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot
for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks
fell on their heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess-
fully, gave up and were forced to open antique
stores where they thought they were growing
old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits
on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse
& the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments
of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the
fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinis-
ter intelligent editors, or were run down by the
drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually hap-
pened and walked away unknown and forgotten
into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley
ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of
the subway window, jumped in the filthy Pas-
saic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street,
danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed
phonograph records of nostalgic European
1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and
threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans
in their ears and the blast of colossal steam
whistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying
to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude
watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out
if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had
a vision to find out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who
came back to Denver & waited in vain, who
watched over Denver & brooded & loned in
Denver and finally went away to find out the
Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying
for each other's salvation and light and breasts,
until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for
impossible criminals with golden heads and the
charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet
blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky
Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys
or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or
Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the
daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp
notism & were left with their insanity & their
hands & a hung jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism
and subsequently presented themselves on the
granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads
and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding in-
stantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin
Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho-
therapy occupational therapy pingpong &
amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic
pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of
blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad
man doom of the wards of the madtowns of the
East,
Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid
halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock-
ing and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench
dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night-
mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the
moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book
flung out of the tenement window, and the last
door closed at 4. A.M. and the last telephone
slammed at the wall in reply and the last fur-
nished room emptied down to the last piece of
mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted
on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that
imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of
hallucination
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and
now you're really in the total animal soup of
time
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed
with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use
of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the vibrat-
ing plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space
through images juxtaposed, and trapped the
archangel of the soul between 2 visual images
and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun
and dash of consciousness together jumping
with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna
Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human
prose and stand before you speechless and intel-
ligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet con-
fessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm
of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown,
yet putting down here what might be left to say
in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in
the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the
suffering of America's naked mind for love into
an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone
cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered
out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand
years.

II

What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open
their skulls and ate up their brains and imagi-
nation?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unob
tainable dollars! Children screaming under the
stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men
weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the
loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy
judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the
crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of
sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment!
Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stun-
ned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose
blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers
are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a canni-
bal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking
tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows!
Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long
streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose fac-
tories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose
smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch
whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch
whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch
whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen!
Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream
Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in
Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom
I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch
who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy!
Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch!
Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs!
skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic
industries! spectral nations! invincible mad
houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave-
ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to
Heaven which exists and is everywhere about
us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies!
gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole
boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions!
gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! De-
spairs! Ten years' animal screams and suicides!
Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on
the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the
wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell!
They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving!
carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the
street!

III

Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland
where you're madder than I am
I'm with you in Rockland
where you must feel very strange
I'm with you in Rockland
where you imitate the shade of my mother
I'm with you in Rockland
where you've murdered your twelve secretaries
I'm with you in Rockland
where you laugh at this invisible humor
I'm with you in Rockland
where we are great writers on the same dreadful
typewriter
I'm with you in Rockland
where your condition has become serious and
is reported on the radio
I'm with you in Rockland
where the faculties of the skull no longer admit
the worms of the senses
I'm with you in Rockland
where you drink the tea of the breasts of the
spinsters of Utica
I'm with you in Rockland
where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the
harpies of the Bronx
I'm with you in Rockland
where you scream in a straightjacket that you're
losing the game of the actual pingpong of the
abyss
I'm with you in Rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul
is innocent and immortal it should never die
ungodly in an armed madhouse
I'm with you in Rockland
where fifty more shocks will never return your
soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a
cross in the void
I'm with you in Rockland
where you accuse your doctors of insanity and
plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the
fascist national Golgotha
I'm with you in Rockland
where you will split the heavens of Long Island
and resurrect your living human Jesus from the
superhuman tomb
I'm with you in Rockland
where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com-
rades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale
I'm with you in Rockland
where we hug and kiss the United States under
our bedsheets the United States that coughs all
night and won't let us sleep
I'm with you in Rockland
where we wake up electrified out of the coma
by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the
roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the
hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls col-
lapse O skinny legions run outside O starry
spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is
here O victory forget your underwear we're
free
I'm with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-
journey on the highway across America in tears
to the door of my cottage in the Western night



The imaginery and beauty that this man conjures up is inspiring...

Kubla Khan
Samuel Taylor Coleridge






In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !


The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

I've been reading Ginsberg again lately...





So, I've been here for about seven months now and I will say that it has been an incredible experience. I want to talk about some highlights...

The job has been tremendous. I look forward to going in and teaching these kids everyday. I liked teaching last year at home, but I never had the same bond with those kids as I do with these guys. The kids see me as something totally different from them. They see me as a source of variety and, even at their tender age, an icon for what the Western world is about. We learn, laugh, play and listen to music together and together we have grow close. Last week we had our kindergarten graduation. It was a very big deal for the kids, the parents, the school and for the teachers. We were charged with writing and directing skits, songs and dances. You all know that the performance arts are not a speciality of mine, but I think my two classes did really well. My Bear class did a little eight minute skit and dance. It went so well. The dressed up in rain jackets, boots and had their little yellow umbrella's. They talked about the weather and then sang and danced to "Rain Drops Keeping Fallin on My Head". I was very proud to see them on stage with big smiles, dancing and singing just as we practiced. I had never been part of something like that before and although it's a silly little graduation for Korean seven year olds, I got a sense of accomplishment from it. We all worked so hard and to see them up there nailing it was great. Sadly, they all will leave at the end of the month and I will get a new class. I will miss these kids a lot. They have learned a lot and we have had so many laughs. My favorite, Victor, is pretty much a Korean version of me. He dances, laughs and acts JUST like me. He always tells me,

"Teacher, I will come to America and go to Tennessee and we will drink the Soju together."

I laugh and remind him that he will be in America next year and that he will not be old enough to drink Soju. Still, it's funny to hear a little kid say that. So, I will have a new class in a couple weeks, but until them I will cherish the time with this bunch...




I broke down and got a cell phone. I'm so cool. It was nice to not have one, but it was time. I also finally got a haircut the other day. It's okay. I was always scared to get it done in Korea since I had heard all these scary stories. Go-woon (Karie) went with me and made sure that I came out looking like a white guy rather than fashionable Korean male which really looks like a gay guy.

We have gotten two new teachers. One from Cleveland and the other from Missouri. They're fun, but I just don't know them well enough yet. Two other teachers just finished their contracts and that why we got new guys in here. Here's all that we have left from Pat and Dena. It's a movie short. It's filmed in our school and at apartments.





I have also met a girl that I'm very fond of. Her name is Kim Go-woon. She's lots of fun and we have been inseparable since we met. I'm very happy to meet her, so wish me luck!







I'm trying to plan some more trips for the next few months and we'll see where that takes me. I'm thinking Japan and China and maybe Taiwan or something like that. I don't have too much time and the planning is most of the trouble...

I have grown quite accumstomed to Korea. Besides family and friends, there are few things that I miss. Sure, the variety of food in America is nice, but I have enjoyed eating Korea food. It's healthy and generally pretty good. I do miss American bread a lot. I just hate the taste of it here.

So, I have five months left and I intend on making the most of it. I'm sad that I'm on the backside of my time here, but that's life. What's next I have yet to figure out, but I do know that I want to spend some good time with family, friends, nature, music and, most of all, Sadie!!!!


Here's another video that I find funny!!




Here's on for Kristin...



Here's on for Mom...




Here's a couple for Trey...







Here's a couple for Uncle John...









Here's one for Dave...



Here's a couple for Dad...

Temples

On the 26th of December we decided that it would be our tourist day. We woke up early, had breakfast at our guesthouse and walked out into the streets. Of course, we were greeted by a team of tuk tuk drivers wanting to bring us wherever we wanted to go. We negotiated the price and were on our way.

I was so excited to see all this stuff. You can refer to an earlier post if you want the history.

We paid our 20 dollars and were dropped off at the entrance.





Here's a monkey. There were lots of them around the temples.




Angkor Wat. It was beautiful. I have lots of pictures, but looking at stone is fun for only so long.




A lot of the Buddha's were missing their heads. It must have been the French!








Aaron is scared of heights and some of the temples had VERY steep stairs. The Japanese guys behind him got a kick out of it too.






This was a little village next to the temples. We were walking along the trail and this boy insisted that we follow him. He did not speak much English, but he repeated "Feet of Buddha" over and over again.




This man was slowly walking by us. There were many Buddhists sporting the traditional orange outfit. I tried to secretly take his picture, but it looks like he caught me.




The rest of these are Angkor Thom. I enjoyed this temple the most.










It was a fun morning and next we headed to the Tonle Sap (my favorite part of the trip).

En route rowdiness...

We had a school Christmas party the night before we left. It was in the school's playroom. The party was fine. We exchanged presents, drank, and we even got to gather around the piano for a little singing. I couldn't help but think about that great Saturday Night Live with Jan Hooks singing Silver Bells. The night ended relatively early which was a good thing.

I woke up busting and couldn't wait to get to the airport. We all met at school and made it to the bus station where we took the hour long trip to Incheon International. We made it through customs after a pre-customs beer and found our gate. It was too early to sit at the gate, so we found a bar and had a drink.



We sat there as we usually did, but all of us were very excited. At this point it was me, Dave, Joel, Aaron and Gina. Rhett had a later flight, so we were going to meet him in Bangkok. Finally it was time to board and off we went. We were flying to Hong Kong first. The flight was 4 hours, so we had plenty of time to make some enemies on the flight. We ate and took advantage of the free drinks on the plane. It was a fun flight...probably too fun.



We landed in Hong Kong to discover our flight had been delayed an hour. That was fine. The Hong Kong airport was huge. So, we walked around laughing quietly mimicking how the Chinese talked. We went to the duty free shop which was actually called "Free Duty" and bought a huge bottle of SKYY vodka. We headed to our gate after a little Hong Kong McDonalds and found a nice place to sit and rubber neck.








After the SKYY was gone and we were all in the Christmas spirit, our plane started to board. We had arranged it so Dave, Joel and I could all sit together. I'm sure they regretted allowing that. So, we took off from Hong Kong about the time we were supposed to be landing in Thailand. This would not have been a problem except that Rhett was waiting for us there. The plane took off and I watched beautiful Hong Kong slowly fade into the darkness of the night. We started up again with our antics. Ordering drinks, singing songs and laughing without much regard for those around us. It didn't matter, we always say we're Canadian anyways. I would occasionally look out the window and spot small villages in Vietnam and Laos. It was a neat feeling flying over the Gulf Of Tonkin and knowing that the French and American people had been so involved in the whole area. Of course, they didn't do much to help it, but still. The flight was fine and we finally landed in Bangkok. It was a new airport, only been open for a few months, but I was not too impressed. It wasn't anything compared to BNA. We weren't sure what to think about Rhett though. We were like 2 and half hours late. We had to change more money as well. That was fine. We got our Bath (Thai money) and got in line at customs. It took FOREVER. We were all so sick of being in airports and in transit, but it's kind of mandatory.

After an hour in that line, we were outside. There was Rhett, drinking a few beers and smoking his trademark Dunhill's. He was relieved to see us as we were him. He was concerned that we had left him and even made the comment that I would have been the one who incited that cruel abandonment. I wouldn't have though, I promise. Now all we had to do was find the cab that was going to take us to the bus station from where we would drive all night to the border.

Southeast Asians are very eager to help the Western traveler. So, a guy came right over to us and found us a couple of cabs that would take us the forty-five minutes to the bus station. We got in after agreeing on a price. The ride was full of us laughing and singing Christmas carols to our unsuspecting driver. He seemed more entertained than bothered though.

We arrived at the shady bus stop and bought our tickets for 2 dollars or something. We tried to buy beer for the ride, but they said they didn't seel beer for 30 more minutes. After some unsuccessful convincing we had to board. We got on the bus and again lucked out and got to sit next to each other. We were on there for a couple minutes when an armed guard entered the bus and started checking passports. After a few minutes of checking, five or so people were forced off the bus and led away into custody. Aaron assumed they were illegal Cambodians hiding out in Thailand. Then the bus was off, only to stop when the attendant demanded that Aaron show his ticket for a second time. He couldn't find it and offered to buy another one, but luckily it did not come down to that and he located it in his pocket.

The ride was rough. We constantly stopped and had police inspections and the bus itself was cold. I had Dave sleeping next to me and he has a bad habit of snoring and jabbing while he's under. To say the least, I got no sleep, but I did get to see the sun rise over the beautiful Thai landscape. That sunrise was full of colors I have never seen in the morning sky. It peeked out over the dense forest which was dotted with the mammoth palm trees. Morning finally broke and the bus seemed to wake up. People started laughing and getting ready for the new day. After one final police inspection that included a bathroom barge-in on Gina, we arrived at our destination. It was early and we hadn't eaten in hours and hours. We found a nasty little place to eat. It even had karaoke where we made a minor spectacle of ourselves. We ate, finished our beer and hopped on a tuk tuk.








We were about 20 hours into the trip and already I was loving it...

Lately...

I'm working on a series of posts about my upcoming travels, but wanted to throw in a few pictures for you to occupy youself for the time being. The first round of trip posts will be up tomorrow...

Life here is going well. I can't believe it's already December. I know it's close to Christmas, but the season hasn't really seaped into my thoughts. I've been occupying myself with other things. Last weekend was Dave's birthday. We had a lot of fun. Here are some pictures from my recent life...





Here are those crazy kids. They graduate in February and I'm sure going to miss them.




Kellie, Alice and I posing for you.





Dave had too much fun as you can see.

Here I am with my favorite bartender. She takes care of us...

There's some of the group. These people are great! I love them all...

Getting close...

Time seems to be flying by these days. Christmas break is almost here and that means that Cambodia and Thailand are getting closer and closer. I'm way too excited to even think about it though. We've been planning this trip pretty much since I arrived and now it's so close. At home, I am always the one who plans each detail of every trip, but not here. While I might have been in on the idea of where to go, I owe it all to Aaron. This guy can plan a mean trip. He knows where to find the cheap tickets, best places to stay and even what to do while there. He has been to Cambodia before, but that did not stop him from going again. We've planned out the trip pretty well so far and I know I've mentioned it before, but I'm going to give you a detailed itinerary. I believe we leave Seoul around 2pm on Saturday, December 23. We fly to Hong Kong where we have a two hour lay-over.

We won't be able to go into the city, but I've heard it's great. This picture does not look too hot though.

We leave the airport en route to Bangkok around 9pm and arrive in Bangkok at 11:50pm. Since we have an early train to catch there, we will just rock out that night and maybe sleep on the streets if we feel so inclined. I know Dave will, but that will be from drinking too much...like always. In fact, I'll tell you a great story later... We'll need to be at the Bangkok Hualamphong Train Station around 430am in order to catch the 500am train. The train costs 48 baht (around one dollar). That's right. Of course, it's all third class and the seats are wood, but that's all part of the experience. After a brief five hour ride through rural southeast Thailand we'll arrive at the border of Cambodia. The town is called Poipet.

Here's what wikitravel says about this rural Cambodian border town:

"Poipet is the gateway to Cambodia for many overland travellers coming from Thailand. It does not provide a very warm welcome. Gordon Sharpless notes that "Poipet more or less rhymes with toilet" and this caustic observation is, sadly, true. Poipet is a miserable huddle of touts, beggars, thieves and dodgy casinos for daytripping Thais, and spending any more time than absolutely necessary is not recommended. Other than gambling or whoring, there is no reason to stay in Poipet."

I thought this was classic...

Sounds fun, right? Well, I'm sure it will be an experience. After paying our 20 dollar visa fee we must split our group into two and get a cab driver to bring us down the dusty road to Siem Reap.

Aaron has informed that this is a very bumpy and rough road. Sleeping probably won't be an option. I know my eyes will be glued to the surrounding beauty.

The ride will take 3 and a half hours. It costs 45 dollars or so for the whole ride. That's not bad. Finally we'll be in Siem Reap. Here's a brief description of the city:

"Siem Reap, literally "Siam Defeated", commemorates a Khmer victory over the neighboring kingdom of Thailand. These days, however, the only rampaging hordes are the tourists heading to Angkor and this once quaint village has become the largest boomtown and construction site in Cambodia. It's quite laid-back and all in all a pleasant place to stay while touring the temples. It's a nice compromise between observing Cambodian life and enjoying the amenities of modern services and entertainment, thanks to the large expatriate community in Siem Reap. As business has increased, so have the numbers of people wanting your custom. Expect to receive almost constant offers for motodop and tuk-tuk rides, along with everything else which drivers may be able to offer to you. "

Once there we will go to our guesthouse and then start our trip out right...with a nice cold beer and a "happy" pizza. You can take a guess as to what a "happy pizza" might be. Here's a picture of it.

Then the next few days will be full of temples, jungles, elephant rides, floating villages, shady guides and plenty of beer and pizza. I don't want tot give the whole trip away before I even go, so I will not go into great detail.

The Tonlé Sap

The Tonlé Sap (meaning Large Fresh Water River but more commonly translated as Great Lake) is a combined lake and river system of huge importance to Cambodia. It is the largest freshwater lake in South East Asia and is an ecological hotspot that was designated as a UNESCO biosphere in 1997.

An old man rows a boat on the Tonle Sap Lake in Cambodia
For most of the year the lake is fairly small, around one meter deep and with an area of 2,700 square km. During the monsoon season, however, the Tonle Sap river which connects the lake with the Mekong river reverses its flow. Water is pushed up from the Mekong into the lake, increasing its area to 16,000 square km and its depth to up to nine meters, flooding nearby fields and forests. The floodplain provides a perfect breeding ground for fish.
The pulsing system with the large floodplain, rich biodiversity, and high annual sediment and nutrient fluxes from Mekong makes the Tonle Sap one of the most productive inland fisheries in the world, supporting over 3 million people and providing over 75% of Cambodia's annual inland fish catch and 60% of the Cambodians' protein intake. At the end of the rainy season, the flow reverses and the fish are carried downriver.
Among the national and local observers, and local people it is often stated that the Tonle Sap Lake is rapidly filling up with the sediment. However, recent long-term sedimentation studies show that net sedimentation within the Tonle Sap Lake proper has been in the range of 0.1-0.16 mm/year since ca. 5500 years before present (BP). Thus, there is no threat of the lake filling up with sediment. On the contrary, sediment is not a threat to the lake but an important part of its ecosystem, providing nutrients that drive the floodplain productivity.
The reversal of the Tonle Sap river's flow also acts as a safety valve to prevent flooding further downstream. During the dry season (December to April) the Tonle Sap Lake provides around 50% of the flow to the Mekong Delta in Vietnam.The lake occupies a depression created due to the geological stress induced by the collision of the Indian subcontinent with Asia.

ANGKOR THOM

The city lies on the right bank of the river Siem Reap, a tributary of Tonle Sap, about a quarter of a mile from the river. The south gate of Angkor Thom is 7.2 km north of Siem Reap, and 1.7 km north of the entrance to Angkor Wat. The walls, 8 m high and flanked by a moat, are each 3 km long, enclosing an area of 9 km². The walls are of laterite buttressed by earth, with a parapet on the top. There are gates at each of the cardinal points, from which roads lead to the Bayon at the centre of the city. As the Bayon itself has no wall or moat of its own, those of the city are interpreted by archaeologists as representing the mountains and oceans surrounding the Bayon's Mount Meru. (Glaize 81). Another gate — the Victory Gate — is 500 m north of the east gate; the Victory Way runs parallel to the east road to the Victory Square and the Royal Palace north of the Bayon.

A Gate leading to Angkor Thom
The faces on the 23 m towers at the city gates (which are later additions to the main structure) take after those of the Bayon, and pose the same problems of interpretation. They may represent the king himself, the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, guardians of the empire's cardinal points, or some combination of these. A causeway spans the moat in front of each tower: these have a row of devas on the left and asuras on the right, each row holding a naga in the attitude of a tug-of-war. This appears to be a reference to the myth, popular in Angkor, of the Churning of the Sea of Milk. The temple-mountain of the Bayon, or perhaps the gate itself, (Glaize 82) would then be the pivot around which the churning takes place. The nagas may also represent the transition from the world of men to the world of the gods (the Bayon), or be guardian figures. (Freeman and Jacques 76). The gateways themselves are 3.5 by 7 m, and would originally have been closed with wooden doors. (Glaize 82) The south gate is now by far the most often visited, as it is the main entrance to the city for tourists.
At each corner of the city is a Prasat Chrung — corner shrine — built of sandstone and dedicated to Avalokiteshvara. These are cruciform with a central tower, and orientated towards the east.
Within the city was a system of canals, through which water flowed from the northeast to the southwest. The bulk of the land enclosed by the walls would have been occupied by the secular buildings of the city, of which nothing remains. This area is now covered by forest.

ANGKOR WAT

Angkor Wat (or Angkor Vat) is a temple at Angkor, Cambodia, built for king Suryavarman II in the early 12th century as his state temple and capital city. The largest and best-preserved temple at the site, it is the only one to have remained a significant religious centre—first Hindu, then Buddhist—since its foundation. The temple is the epitome of the high classical style of Khmer architecture. It has become a symbol of Cambodia, appearing on its national flag, and it is the country's prime attraction for visitors. Angkor Wat combines two basic plans of Khmer temple architecture: the temple mountain and the later galleried temples. It is designed to represent Mount Meru, home of the gods in Hindu mythology: within a moat and an outer wall 3.6 km (2.2 miles) long are three rectangular galleries, each raised above the next. At the centre of the temple stands a quincunx of towers. Unlike most Angkorian temples, Angkor Wat is oriented to the west; scholars are divided as to the significance of this. As well as for the grandeur and harmony of the architecture, the temple is admired for its extensive bas-reliefs and for the numerous devatas adorning its walls.

The initial design and construction of the temple took place in the first half of the 12th century, during the reign of Suryavarman II (ruled 1113–c. 1150). Dedicated to Vishnu, it was built as the king's state temple and capital city. As neither the foundation stela nor any contemporary inscriptions referring to the temple have been found, its original name is unknown. It is located 5.5 km north of the modern town of Siem Reap, and a short distance south and slightly east of the previous capital, which was centred on the Baphuon. Work seems to have come to an end on the king's death, with some of the bas-reliefs unfinished. In 1177 Angkor was sacked by the Chams, the traditional enemies of the Khmer. Thereafter the empire was restored by a new king, Jayavarman VII, who established a new capital and state temple (Angkor Thom and the Bayon respectively) which lie a few kilometres to the north.


In the 14th or 15th century the temple was converted to Theravada Buddhist use, which continues to the present day. Angkor Wat is unusual among the Angkor temples in that although it was somewhat neglected after the 16th century it was never completely abandoned. Its moat also provided some protection from encroachment by the jungle.[2] Around this time the temple was known as Preah Pisnulok, after the posthumous title of Suryavarman. The modern name, in use by the 16th century, means "City Temple": Angkor is a vernacular form of the word nokor which comes from the Sanskrit word nagara (capital), while wat is the Khmer word for temple.
One of the first Western visitors to the temple was Antonio da Magdalena, a Portuguese monk who visited in 1586 and said that it "is of such extraordinary construction that it is not possible to describe it with a pen, particularly since it is like no other building in the world. It has towers and decoration and all the refinements which the human genius can conceive of".[4] However, the temple was popularised in the West only in the mid-19th century on the publication of Henri Mouhot's travel notes. The French explorer wrote of it:

"One of these temples—a rival to that of Solomon, and erected by some ancient Michelangelo—might take an honourable place beside our most beautiful buildings. It is grander than anything left to us by Greece or Rome, and presents a sad contrast to the state of barbarism in which the nation is now plunged."

The Cambodian flag includes a depiction of Angkor Wat.
Mouhot, like other early Western visitors, was unable to believe that the Khmers could have built the temple, and mistakenly dated it to around the same era as Rome. The true history of Angkor Wat was pieced together only from stylistic and epigraphic evidence accumulated during the subsequent clearing and restoration work carried out across the whole Angkor site.
Angkor Wat required considerable restoration in the 20th century, mainly the removal of accumulated earth and vegetation. Work was interrupted by the civil war and Khmer Rouge control of the country during the 1970s and 1980s, but relatively little damage was done during this period other than the theft and destruction of mostly post-Angkorian statues.The temple has become a symbol of Cambodia, and is a source of great pride for the country's people. A depiction of Angkor Wat has been a part of every Cambodian national flag since the introduction of the first version circa 1863—the only building to appear on any national flag.

We have five 4 camera's going one nice video camera. Assuming we don't get all of stuff stolen, I should be coming back with tones of great shots. I'm going for 500. That should be easy, especially since I can manage over 60 on a night-out here.

I'll continue the trip on the next post...

Thanksgiving in Korea

The table is set, the candles are lit, the wine is poured and the turkey is cut. It's time for the feast of the year. It's time for everyone to take a break from work or school and travel to spend time with family and friends. I've done it for the last 23 years of my life, but not this year.

Of course, each year has been a little different. I've eaten with family at home and I've eaten with family at close friends houses. Sometimes we watched football and othertimes we'd argue over how boring the Macy's Day Parade is. I never win that one, but everyone knows it's boring. At this point, Mom and Kristin have had the Christmas music in full swing for about a month and most of the shopping has been done for several months. It's a great time. It's a great break where we all get to sit, relax and enjoy being a family.

This year is different. Kristin, Trey, Hattie and Sadie (intentional omission of Esther) are dealing with an ever-increasing fussy Hattie. I guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Poor Trey, but he knew what he signed up for when he married her. Mom and David are entertaining his kids which I know is hard for Mom. Not because of his kids, but because we're not there. I think this is the first for her. That leaves me, here, in Korea on Thanksgiving night all alone. I am not sad though. I am not homesick or looking for pity comments. I am thankful.

The meaning of this day has been lost on me for years. It was always a time to hang out and mooch of the parents for the week. However, today I am thankful. Why?

I'm thankful that I have an audience who reads this and cares about me. I'm thankful that I have family at home that can feel the emptiness at the table because I'm not there. I'm thankful for those who have helped me get to where I am today. I'm thankful that my parents are all still alive and healthy. I'm thankful that I am the Uncle of a niece who has two incredible people for parents. I'm thankful that Trey had a band called Ezra and that they were better than "Better Than Ezra". I'm thankful for Emmie, Prince, Sadie, Boston, Pepper, Snipes, Snoops, Snaps, Hayden Fox from Coach, Sierra, Dottie Hen, Hayden, Amos, Lakota, Abbie, Barley, Gideon, Snappy, Berrie, Squeeky, Pookie, Marmalade, the love birds, the fish, critter cages and even Esther. I'm thankful for my friends at home who I love dearly. I'm thankful that they can be with their families and friends tonight. I'm thankful for the memories I've created with the scores of people I've met in this wonderful world. I'm thankful for the people I'll meet in the future. I'm thankful for the musicians who have played the music that has been the soundtrack to my life. I'm thankful for American and Korean women. I have learned a lot from them all. I've learned the importance of loyalty and honesty. I'm thankful for that even if they came at a cost. Still, that's a cost I would pay again any day. I'm thankful for the two most important women in my life. Without them I would not be here and I would not be the person I am today. I'm thankful that I can sit here alone writing all of this and not feel sad. I am so thankful for what I hold dear to me that I could never be sad on earth. I'm sitting here writing with a smile on my face knowing all of you are together and hopefully reflecting on what is important to you.

I'm thankful for you all. All of you have been part of this experiment as I have yours.

Most of all, I'm thankful for life. Thanks for being part of it...

I'm nervous...

Let's make it happen!

Tomorrow is the day. The polls will open and the people will choose. I think we (the Dems) will take the House back and possibly the Senate (although I doubt it). If we take even a few Senate seats, I think that will be enough to make Bush a lame duck since so many right-wingers are straying from the awful man.

Why am I nervous then? I'm nervous because the last two elections have been shrouded in fraud. The Diebold voting machines are so undetectably vulnerable to tampering that I can not believe we use them. I'm nervous because international poll observers can't even watch our vote because there is no uniformity in our systems (as the law calls for). I'm nervous that the American people might still be as out of touch with the world as they have been since 1994. I'm nervous that the world might again see us as supporters of a President who thinks he is a king. I'm nervous that more people will have to die. I'm nervous that I will not have the stomach to return to the States until this party is out of office.

I need this change. We need this change. The world needs this change...

Also, I was very unhappy to see that Saddam got the death penalty. Aside from the convenient timing of the verdict, using murder to punish for murder makes no sense. He was a state head who murdered people, right? Murder is the worst thing someone can do, but who's killing him? The State is, so can we punish the judges now?

We live in a crazy world and I'm not saying that this election will change it, but one thing is for sure: continuously applying the same method and expecting different results each time is idiocy. Let's not perpetuate this failed strategy...for the sake of the world.

Way too long

I have no excuse for not writing for two weeks. I apologize for my apathy.

However, life here is going well. I've been here for over three months and still enjoy everyday. School is great and I'm really getting to know the kids and finally I am seeing some of my mannerisms in them. It's funny. I play music for them and they all get really excited and pull out their air guitars and rock it along side of me. Their English is getting pretty good too. All is well on that front.

We are all planning our Cambodian trip and everday it seems to get better. Here's the plan:

We fly to Hong Kong and catch a flight to Bangkok. We're there for six hours. I'm not sure if we'll rock out for those hours or get a room. We'll be there from 23:50 to 5:00, so it might be best if we sleep. At 5:00 we hop on a train. The train is classic. It's all third-class and costs a mere one dollar. The seats are wood and we'll be on there for 5 hours. I'm excited though. I'll get to gaze out of those windows and see rural Thailand. It's going to be amazing.

Then we hit the Cambodian border. I've heard that it's a real shady place. I'm sure it's safe though. From there we get a cab for a three hour ride to our destination: Siem Reap.

We'll rock it there from the 24th through the 29th. We'll see Ankor Wat and Ankor Thom and check out a few other temples. We're staying in a guesthouse that is part hotel and part Irish Pub. It's cheap and looks rather nice. While there I think we're going to visit some land mine fields, ride elephants and go to the Tonle Sap lake. The Tonle Sap flows into the Mekong River which is the river that flows into Vietnam. On the lake there are floating villages that we'll check out.

After Cambodia, we head to Bangkok for New Years. That should be wild.

More to come...

Next weekend we're going to the Sea of Japan for a little getaway. I'm excited about this as well. It will be cold though.

I know this post was all over the place, but it's something.

I'm trying to save money this month, so hopefully I'll be writing more and going out less...