Who's a Canadian pop star?

Work had ended and the evening was young. We had been planning to go to the sauna and relax for a couple hours before we went out, but since we all seem to get off work at different times we never got it together. Don't worry, I'll go soon and report back to you. Since the sauna was not happening, I left work and went home in hopes of napping for awhile. The night before was Liam's first night, so we were out all night. He's another new teacher from Wales. Unfortunetly, I did not get to nap and, shortly after arriving home, Mike called. He and Joel were getting a drink down the road from me and wanted to know if I wanted to come out. So I grabbed my things and started the short walk.

The night was really pleasant with a cool summers end breeze that always reminds me of football season at UT. The smell of fish was in the air as usual, but it was not as potent. We met on the sidewalk and weren't sure what to do. The rest of the group was not answering their phones, so it was going to be the three of us. Joel suggested we go to Gangnam. Gangnam is a wild place with way too much going on much like everywhere in Seoul. We flagged down a cab and piled in. Joel had bought a few beers while they were waiting for me to arrive, so we drank them in the cab. That's right, in the cab. People do that all the time here. The ride was short but neat. It was a new part of Seoul for me so I was wide-eyed. We arrived at our stop, paid the driver and started our walk to the bar.

This area is different than mine. My area is more geared toward older wealthy people with kids. This area was more like a college town. The woman wore some pretty racey clothes and all the men were trying to look pretty sleek. We manuevered our way through the masses and arrived at our destination. The bar was on the third floor. We marched up the three flights of stairs. Joel and Mike walked right in, but I was amazed as I looked out the open window. There were bars and hofs and restaurants and clubs everywhere. They were on all floors and all of them were swinging. It was quite a site to see people eating on one floor, people drinking in a bar on the next and then people dancing in the club on the top floor. Imagine a doll house with an opened face displaying each room. That's what it was like, except there were balconies and open doors and windows. I turned to walk in the bar, but foolishly pumped into a young Korean girl with the acne of a typical fourteen year old. I apologized and she laughed and walked in the door. The bar was called Woodstock. It was a small dark bar with very loud music playing. The walls were lined with records and cds. Dave Matthews Band was playing when I entered. The song was Don't Drink the Water. Not a bad song, but I really do not like Dave Matthews. The neat thing was that they had all Western music in stock and you could write down a song and if they had it, they'd play it for you. The three of us sat down and ordered a pitcher. Next to us were these two older Korean men. They were 36 and 41 and very friendly. They, too, were ready for a night of fun.

They introduced themselves with a round of drinks on them and that started our evening with these guys. One of the guys was talking to Mike a lot since Mike can speak Korean. He was telling Mike what he did, what his friend did and all the small talk basics. At one point, he looked over at me and then went back to talking to Mike. I asked Mike what that was all about.

"He thinks you're very hansome and is wondering if you have a girlfriend" Mike translated.

I looked at Mike with a disgusted look on my face.

"What!? Why would he say that to me?"

"I think he wants to set you up with his daughter" Mike replied.

I was relieved that was his intention, but still thought it to be a bit odd of an interaction. Now, the man switched seats with Mike and came over to discuss things further.

"Where are you from?" he started to say, but stopped.

He sat there for a second just looking at me. I didn't know what to do except smile and drink my beer to ease the akwardness.

Then he shouted, "You look like a famous Canadian pop star! Are you from Canada?"

I told him I wasn't from Canada, but thanked him for the apparent compliment. So the night continued. We requested awful songs and had a great time there, but soon the older Korean guys wanted to go eat and offered to pay for us, so we left the music behind, walked down the steps and followed them to the next watering hole.

We walked around for awhile. The streets were packed. There were huge screens on the buildings that were playing music videos. There was this one great one. It was this popular Korean pop-star and he was doing this odd dance on the beach, waving his arms around with these young girls throwing food products at him. It was a serious video too. I haven't grasped the apeall of K-Pop yet. I hope I never do. So we made it to the restaurant and I noticed it was one of the places with the small tables. That meant I got to take my shoes off. So we ate, drank and carried on until about two or so. I have put their pictures up on webshots.

I went home before the other guys did and was excited about the possiblity of good nights sleep.
I got in the cab, got out at Hanti station and on my walk home I asked a guy for a lighter. What happened next will be the next post. Nothing violent or anything, so don't worry.

A day in the park...

I'm going to the park by my place this aftertoon to observe and eventually write about. Don't worry, I'll finish the "Walkin Man" post too. Sleep well...

Walkin' man...(final)

When I started getting ideas for this post I did not realize how much it would entail. Upon further thought, I realized that I will have to address a few major points: the demographic makeup of Korea, the layout of the city and the overall more discreet culture of Koreans. I'm sure I will hit on all sorts of other subjects, so this might be a long one. Also, it might take several nights to write. I will start with the more scientific aspect of this subject and then I will delve into my own experiences walking through these streets.

First, I will talk about the population of both Seoul and Korea as a whole. Korea has a population of over 48,000,000, half of which reside here in Seoul. Of that population, less than one percent of that is non-Korean. If I compare that to the States where immigrants, minorities and other aliens account for over half of the population, a major difference is already obvious. Does that mean that a multi-cultural society means crime rates rise? Maybe, but I don't think that is the reason why I feel safe to walk down dark alleys here. We all know that racially motivated crimes in the States are not the norm. If that was the case, then "hate crimes" would be occurring at an alarming rate and they're not. They do happen, but most crimes, in my opinion, are committed within a certain proximity from the criminals' home or neighborhood and since, geographically, America is still very segregated, this is why so many crimes happen to the people they do. So, without going into criminological theory, I believe that the homogeneous characteristic of Korea does not have to do with why I feel safe. If it were that, then I would stick out like a sore thumb and be the target for many crimes. However, maybe this aspect of Korean life is the answer to my query. Maybe Koreans are so accustomed to having "their own" people here that it is instilled in them not to hurt each other criminally. Korea has not had the easiest path to get where they are today. They had to really unite for the many wars, invasions, occupations, dictatorships and economic crisises this country has suffered through in the very recent past. It could be that, but I say again, I do not think think the population has anything to do with this. By the way, Itaewon has the highest crime rate in Seoul and if you remember, that is where the highest number of foreigners, specifically Americans, work, live and play.

The layout of the city here is interesting. We all know when in New York City not to go into some areas that are more poverty stricken or that have a reputation of being rough. I live in a very nice area of Seoul luckily, but this city is so huge. It's over 630 square miles. Imagine that for a second. That is huge. I won't see way over half of this city this year and even if I was here for ten years, I doubt I would see half of it. So, with that in mind, there might be some areas that have a higher rate of crime, but that still doesn't really provide a reason. I don't think I'll ever really know. Even in my numerous criminology courses in college I never got the feeling that anyone really knew what makes a person devious. Sure, we can study theory, but a theory can be applied to so many things and if you look at a crime or a community with a specific theory in mind, chances are that it will make sense. Still, one could apply another theory to the same crime and come up with a whole new set of causes. This is the challenge that plagues social science. I said I would write about the culture as I did with the two other topics, but culture is not numbers. It's experience and only by immersing yourself in a culture can one get a true and possibly accurate idea of why it operates the way it does. I have not been here long enough to be able to characterize these beautiful people in a way that makes sense and I am not sure one year will not be enough. Sure, I'll pick up the basics, but culture is ingrained in people, it's not learned that easily. So I will stray now from shallow theorization and tell you how I experience these unique people when I walk on their streets.

Walking here is a real treat. I've walked on all sorts of streets and in all sorts of cities. I've walked in all sorts of climates and on all sorts of terrains, but walking here is different. To experience life on foot is the most natural thing a human can do. An interesting perspective was brought to my attention by Rory Stewart in his wonderful book, The Places in Between. Humans evovled from a lesser species to a bipedal species. This, obviously, is one of the reasons we were so successful as an animal and ultimately why we are still here and in this form. The world was conquered over and over again on foot. The greatest terrestrial explorers in history first experienced their new discovery one step at a time. It is the natural speed for humans, the speed at which we were designed for, the speed that allows us to truly experience all of this amazing world. I must admit, I used to love walking, but as time passed I forgot how nice of a feeling it was to walk. Now, I insist on walking everywhere.

As I mentioned before, I've walked in a lot of places, but there is something about the streets of Asia that captures my soul and bonds me with this place. It is hard to describe, but if any of you have the oppurtunity to travel to Asia, do yourself a favor and buy that plane ticket. I'm going to detail a couple walks I have been on while here. My favorite time to walk here is at night. There are people everywhere just like during the day, but at night, people are out for themselves, not for work or school. I hope you enjoy.

My phone rang, it was Aaron. He was telling me that we are grilling out on the roof and that the meeting time was 8:30pm. I glanced at my battery operated bedside clock that I purchased before I came here. It was 7:25pm. I gathered my camera, Ipod, put on a shirt and slipped into my sandals and with a big gulp of bottled water, I was out the door. I walk down the stairs slowly as I noticed that the marble floors had just been mopped. The floor shined like new and I hated to leave my print on it, but what can you do? Outside my apartment building were two Korean men smoking a cigarette and arguing. I knew it would be better if I avoided this, so I swiflty walked past them and one to my little road. My road is very small (see webshots) and is lined with apartment buildings. The one across from mine is very nice, a lot nicer than mine, but then again they all drive Saab's, so I guess they earned it. An old woman with a wrinkly face and liver spots came into sight. She was carrying her groceries and, by the looks of her posture, had been carrying them for some time. I gave the customary smile and bow. She returned the bow and the smile. Her grin would cheer up anybody. In the near distance I could hear children laughing and playing on the playground at the park. I stopped for a second when I reached the park to see what was going on there. It was a bit late for that many kids to playing there. It was birthday party. I was happy to see it too. If you remember an earlier post, I mentioned that Koreans usually don't celebrate their birthday. Well, this little boy of maybe nine years certainly did. I quickly spotted him. He was wearing nice clothes and the traditional birthday hat. He was having a great time with his friends. They were playing what I guessed to be freeze tag and he was unfreezing everyone. I mean this kid was fast. I gave him a "happy birthday" to myself and walked down the road.

In front of me stood the infamous watermelon truck. Luckily his recording wasn't playing, so I didn't resent him too much this time. A horn beeped behind me. I turned around to see the source. It was an old KIA truck. Behind the wheel was the fattest Korean person I have ever seen. He had double chins and a mean furrow. His fat arm darted out the window, not to yell or anything, but to knock the cherry off his cigarette. Koreans do not throw their butts on the ground. Instead they do what should be done, they flick the cherry off and place the butt in a trashcan. Wouldn't that be nice if smokers everywhere did this rather than treating the earth as their own personal ashtray. The truck passed and I continue on. A mother with her two young children walked in front of me. The younger one decided to walk into the middle of the street. Of course, my first instict was to grab the child and pull it out of harms way, but I'm not Korean, so I figured it would be best if stayed back and didn't grab this child. I would have felt bad if something happened but nothing did. The mother casually strolled on as if nothing was wrong and the child continued on his quest to the center of the busy street. All the cars did was slow down and carefully manuever around the child. I crossed the street and waited to see what reaction, if any, the mother would have. Finally realizing that her child was not next to here side she reacted.

"Yeogi." she calmy said as she turned back around and continued walking away from the child.

The child galloped ahead and finally caught up. I told you this story not because of the danger the child was in, which was not any really. I told you this because here, everyone walks in the middle of these smaller roads. Everyone walks without any thought or regard for oncoming traffic or anything. My first few days here I would often stop and allow the car, taxi or scooter to pass. Now, I act just as that boy did.

I pressed on. It was a hot evening as it has been every day. I could feel a bead of sweat gathering momentum on my forehead. I wiped it away. I saw a very cosmopolitan looking couple who looked like they just returned from work, exit their nice car. Koreans work a lot. For instance, at my school, they arrive at work close to 7:30am and will not be done until 8:00pm. Yeah, they have more work, but a twelve hour day is hard, but they take it in stride. The mentality is different here. In class today we were discussing our book, Treasure Island. I was talking about wealth and how people become wealthy.

"How do people become wealthy?" I asked the class expecting an answer besides the one I got.

A boy named Rob raised his hand immediatley. I called on him.

"They work very, very hard and save their money." he said with a serious tone in his voice.

Of course you and I know that this is correct, but an eight year old? This is what I'm talking about, they work all the time and whether they like it or not, they will do it. Props to Koreans.

I turned onto a different street. One block ahead of me was an open-air market. The umbrellas and little stands always give them away. They sell all sorts of things there: meat, fish, vegetables, juices, fruits and so many other that I'll just have to write a post on what one can get at a Korean market. They're wild. I left the apartment district of the area with my last turn and now I was heading into the restaurant and bar district. The vertical and colorful signs on the highrises dominated my view. Hundreds of signs, all saying things that I'm slowly learning how to read were attached to every business. Usually when I walk I look forward or down, but this time I was looking up a the beauty of this city. How are signs beautiful? I don't know, but there's something majestic about them. Maybe it's because I still can't believe that I actually moved to Korea. This was a hard thing for me. I had to say bye to family and friends for a year. I had to leave knowing that I wouldn't be there with flowers for Kristin when my niece is born. I had say good bye to a sister who has been so great to me my whole life. She has always been right there with me on everything and I am so lucky that she is my sister. To all of you reading, if you do not have a sister, I am sorry. You are missing out on bond that nothing can compare to. If you do have a sister, call her, tell her that she's great. Love ya sis...

Back to it. While I was looking up in amazment at these signs I kicked something. I looked down and there was an old woman with all of her crops laid out on a small legless table. I felt really bad. How did I not see her? In fact, there was a row of old women selling their crops. I felt stupid and pretty bad. I looked at her tired sun-withered face and knew I had to do something for her. I pointed to some vegetable that I'm still not sure of its identity.

"Igeoseul eolmamnikka (How much is that)?" I said in embarassingly broken Korean.

She said something I couldn't begin to understand. I panicked for a second and then just handed her 2000 won. She smiled and handed a vegetable to me. I smiled back and accepted it with two hands (that's proper in Korea). I later threw it away. Nothing against the unknown vegetable, but my mother always taught me not to buy unidentifed food from old Korean women on the sidewalk. I continued my trek.

I looked in the windows of the restaurants as I passed by them. I didn't slow down from my increasing pace, which was being fueled by my craving for chicken and Korean beer, or anything. I just caught little glimpses of what was going on inside. Some of the places had the shoe holder thing that you must put your shoes in when you enter. A lot of places require the shoe thing, but those are only the places that have the short tables and are more traditional. I have not gone to one yet, but hope to very soon. I saw bars with the televisions playing movies. The two that I could identify were Good Morning Vietnam and some Jackie Chan movie. I laughed to myself when I saw both of those. What choices for an Asian bar. I turned off the main road and with that turn I was a Rhett's.

We had a fun night, but it was coming to an end and it was time for me to walk home. Dave and Ben opted for the cab ride home.

"You riding George?" they asked.

"No way man, I'm walkin' it." I reponded.

I turned away and headed down the hill. On one side of the steep road there was a group of men and women that were very raucus. They were wrestling around and laughing and carrying on just like anybody does, but again, this was a Tuesday at 3:00am. I walked passed them. I approached the mainroad and was greeted by the familiar site of several taxi's waiting for a customer. On the side of the grey taxi read: FREE TRANSLATION. This means that you can get in there and say "Free Translation" and they will give you a phone that connects you to a translator who will be able to understand where you need to go. They will then tell the driver and you're on your way. It's convient, but I have not yet used it. The drivers here are always dressed very nicely. In fact, the picture they have of themselves in the taxi that tells the passengers the drivers' credentials is very formal. They are wearing nice suits and have a very dignified look on their face. It's classic. I guessed the site of a foreigner suggested to the driver that I would be in need of a ride. He looked at me and then rushed from the relaxed position he was sitting in outside of the car to the front seat. I turned down the road. He got back out of the car, lit a cigarette and resumed waiting.

The road was lined with ginko trees that were well above forty feet. They're beautiful trees. Most of the stores had closed by now, but it looked like they kept their lights on all night. I passed a sunglass store, shoe stores, designer clothing stores and a pet store sporting two kittens. It reminded me of my old college cat, Snipes. Aunt Snipes would love Korea, but then again she was a refined alley cat, so she'd like it anywhere. She was a great cat. Ahead of me I saw a couple of cafe's that were still open. They had their doors open and old orange tables on the sidewalk. I could see two older men sitting and drinking outside. They were were wearing suits too. I wondered what they did for a living that allows them to dress like this and go out drinking all night. The increasingly familiar smell of a Korean cigarette crept into my nose. It smelled like burning trash.

I was listening to my Ipod as I frequently do when I walk. The song was Sledgehammer by Peter Gabriel. I decided that it was time to play a little air guitar. I rocked it pretty hard. I then decided that singing would also be a good idea. I laughed at the image of myself. I laughed because there were Koreans seeing me do this. I knew that I would eventually write about it and the thought of you guys trying to picture it made me laugh again. Never did I think that I would be in Seoul, peacefully walking down the ginko and highrise lined road playing air guitar and blissfully singing Peter Gabriel.

I had to cross the major road and there were only two ways to do this since there was no crosswalk at this street. I could walk all the way up another street and then cut back or I could walk down the steep stairs to the subway and walk under the busy street. Without hesitation, I decended to the subway. The subway stops running at 1:00 am and after that you have to take a taxi. There were two older women mopping the floor. They looked at me and with a puzzled look on their face said something I couldn't understand. They started waving their hands around and I knew they were being friendly, I just couldn't figure out what they were trying to convey to me. I just looked at them as I walked past and kept pointing in the direction I was going. I was almost out when the freshly mopped floor got the best of me. I fell, but it was more like I was doing the splits and when I split too far, I tipped over and landed on my side. The older women saw this and, without hesitation, ran over to me while risking the same fate. They were pro's and glided over the slick floor. I had made it to my feet by then, but they still gave me a pat on the back and a handful of smiles.

"Floor is very slippery" one of them said.

"Yeah, I guess so." I said with a snicker.

They waved me on and made sure I was on the steps and on my way out of danger before they got back to their task. I assumed they were telling me that the floor was slippery the whole time. It was worth it though. I got to see the kindess of these people first hand. You might be saying to yourself that any decent person would help in that situation. That might be true, but how true is it in a big city subway terminal at 3:00am? I climbed up the stairs and decided it was time for a new song.

I searched through my Ipod library. I cruised through AC/DC, Ah ha, Al Green, Allman Brothers, America, Beach Boys, Beatles, Big Brother and the Holding company, Billy Joel, Billy Ocean, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley and then I spotted my selection: Bob Seger. I knew what song I needed. It's a song that I hold so dear to my heart. It is probably the song that my college friends and I listened to more than any other. I selected it and the guitar started playing. I sat there for a second and waited for the lyrics to start.

I was a little too tall, could've used a few pounds
Tight pants, points, hardly renowned
She was a black haired beauty with big dark eyes
And points all her own sitting way up high
Way up firm and high

The drums picked up and I walked to the beat. The guitar in hand. The song is Night Moves by the way.

Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy
Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy
Workin' on mysteries without any clues

Workin' on our night moves
Tryin' to make some front page drive-in news
Workin' on our night moves
In the summertime, in the sweet summertime

I sang along with it, bellowing out the the lyrics like I had a decent voice.

"In the summetime, in the sweet summertime" I sang.


We weren't in love, oh no, far from it
We weren't searching for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
Living by the sword

And we'd steal away every chance we could
To the backroom, the alley, the trusty woods
I used her she used me, but neither one cared
We were getting our share

Workin' on our night moves
Trying to lose the awkward teenage blues
Workin' on our night moves

And it was summer time, sweet summer time summer time

And oh, the wonder
Felt the lightning
And we waited on the thunder
Waited on the thunder

I woke last night to the sound of thunder
How far off, I sat and wondered
Started humming a song from 1962
Ain't it funny how the night moves
When you just don't seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in.

The song continued and I didn't miss a beat. I wasn't walking alone during that song. I was walking with a wealth of memories of some of the greatest people I have ever met. I was walking with them and they were walking right along side of me, singing, playing, dancing and reminding me what is important and truly priceless in this world.

The song ended and I realized that I had a small audience. They didn't follow me or anything, I'm no Pied Piper, but the people I walked by would smile, laugh, and one guy even humored me with a series of clapping. It was really interesting that they were that amused to see a foreigner singing on the sidewalk. Don't think that I was acting like a wine-o either. I wasn't staggering, just loving life. I usually don't do that sort thing in public, but the moment was there and I felt like it was the best thing to do. That reasoning of course sounds like the reasoning of a wine-o, so let's just get back to the walk.

I turned from the mainroad and chuckled a little when I realized I was in the same spot that the vegetable incident occured. What was that vegetable anyways? From here it was a straight shot. I past the dog resaurant (that's right... dog), past the Starbucks, past the CCR bar, and while walking past a local elementary school, I saw a bunch of flashlights that were moving in all directions on the soccer field. I moved closer to the fence to get a better look. There was about eight or so people playing soccer. It was 3:15am on a weekday and these guys were playing soccer. I watched for a couple minutes and wanted to take a picture, but decided that the flash probably wouldn't win me any friends. I walked on and arrived at the park near my place. There were three groups of older men playing some sort of card game. They were laughing and having a grand old time. I watched them as I walked to my building, but didn't want to stop. After all, it was three in the morning...

Music...

I'm not sure how describe what this post is about. I want to somehow express myself and how I am feeling here through songs of the past. There is no need for me to analzye each song, for I feel that each song has defined me in a way. Bare with me on this one guys...


Beatles: "Across the Universe"

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box
they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world

Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing through my open ears
inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe

Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Jai guru deva

Depeche Mode "World in My Eyes"

Let me take you on a trip
Around the world and back
And you won't have to move
You just sit still

Now let your mind do the walking
And let my body do the talking
Let me show you the world in my eyes

I'll take you to the highest mountain
To the depths of the deepest sea
And we won't need a map
Believe me

Now let my body do the moving
And let my hands do the soothing
Let me show you the world in my eyes

That's all there is
Nothing more than you can feel now
That's all there is

Let me put you on a ship
On a long, long trip
Your lips close to my lips

All the islands in the ocean
All the heaven's in motion
Let me show you the world in my eyes

That's all there is
Nothing more than you can touch now
That's all there is
Let me show you the world in my eyes


Ekoostik Hookah "Loner"

Out on the road for the first time. A virgin running to the sun.
Thinkin' 'bout my folks in a world so far from mine,
Worrying about the eldest son.
And they're asking me, "How will you survive boy?"
And i say that I'll get by.
And they say to me, "Don't forget to write boy."
And I say, "When i have the time you know I'll try."
'cause I'm a loner. I'm a loner. I'm a loner.
Won't you please leave me alone.

As time went by I finally had a chance to visit. I almost
wished i hadn't come
When we sat down to eat the questions started coming.
Interrogation had begun.
They started asking me, "Where'd you get that tan boy?"
And I say, "Out on the beaches of life."
And they say to me, "Why don't you get hitched boy?"
And I say, " The last thing I need is a wife."
And they say to me, "You better go to school boy."

And I say, "When it's my time I'll know."
And they're asking me, "What if you get drafted?"
And I say, "If that's the case, then I won't go!"
'cause I'm a loner. I'm a loner. I'm a loner.
Won't you please leave me alone.

And they say to me, "You don't need three dogs boy."
And I say we all need a friend.
And they're asking me, "Don't they give you hard times?"
And I say, " Yeah, but they'll be there in the end."
And they're asking me, "Who you look like Jesus?"
And i say, "It ain't because I try."
But when they're asking me, " How much do you party?"
I say, "I just like to get high, and high, and high, and higher!"
'cause I'm a loner. I'm a loner.
And I'm a loner. Won't you please leave me alone?

Louis Armstrong "What a Wonderful World"

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?"
They're really saying "I love you"

I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll ever know
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world Oh yeah


Michael Franti "Bomb The World"

Please tell me the reason
behind the colours that you fly
please tell me the reason
you want us to unify
you say you're sorry
you say there is no other choice
but how can you feel sorry
when you kill people with no voice

You can chase down all your enemies
bring them to their knees
you can bomb the world to pieces
but you can't bomb it into peace

You may even find the solution to hunger and disease
you can bomb the world to pieces
but you can't bomb it into peace

The earthquake of anger
simply brings more of the same military madness
the smell of flesh and burning pain
so I sing out to the masses stand up if you're still sane
to all of us gone crazy I sing this one refrain

I say, power to the people
power to the peaceful

Pictures...

I've been busy taking pictures for you guys and trying to get this webshots thing going. Right now there are only a few pictures up from my walk to and from the roof last night. Some might be a bit blurry, but most of them are not. I think I've discovered a way to put pictures on here, but it doesn't allow for an album. So, I will put the pictures that coincide with the story on here and the others will be found at:

http://community.webshots.com/user/gromeiser

It's very easy to navigate that site, so I don't think you'll have a problem viewing the pictures. As a disclaimer, I have not done much work with it yet so it's pretty simplistic at this point. Have a nice day!

Thanks for reading too guys! I gives me a real reason to keep them coming. The detailed description isn't coming from me, but from you're desire to know how I'm doing. I love you all and will post as soon as I can.

It's great to be teaching again...

Vacation was winding down and the rest of the teachers were preparing themselves mentally and physically for the return to school. Traveling in Asia is pretty cheap, so that is usually what they opt for during their time off. Aaron and Gina traveled down to Southeast Korea to a beach town called Busan (or Pusan). They had fun, but were upset that they couldn't swim because it's still monsoon season. Suzanna, another teacher who I will write about on the "Fellow Teachers" post, went to Bejing. Pat and Dina, a slightly older couple who live together here, went to Guam for the week. I anticipate that I'll be doing a lot of traveling as well.

My last day of vacation was spent reading, writing and sleeping. I wanted to make sure that I was well rested and prepared to make a good impression the next morning. I set my alarm for 8:30 am and drifted to sleep early. I'm finally getting over jet-lag and the time difference, so I probably didn't need to go to bed that early, but I didn't care. I woke up at 5:30 the next morning. I was mad at myself, but knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, so I decided to read the news. I still read the news very often as I did there, but realized that since I am not bombarded with the 24 cable news cycle, I am starting to see things a little different. Don't get me wrong, I will not ever change from the bleeding-heart that I am, but being away from television and radio punditry is nice break. I don't have to hear what Rush, Hannity and O'Reilly think. I don't have to get mad at FOX News or Pat Robertson anymore. In a way, I'm beating them. I have escaped their tiring and repetitive opinions and it's great. Of course, it goes both ways and when the mid-term elections near I'd get just as tired of both sides of the aisle, but for now, it's great to be away from that.

I watched the small time display in corner of the computer screen change from six to seven and then to eight. I thought it was time for breakfast and then a shower. 9:00 am rolled around and my telephone rang. It was Rhett making sure I was up and ready for work. I was, and with that push, I was out the door. School doesn't actually start until 9:45, but it's always good to get there early on your first day. I walked out of the apartment and headed up the small street that I live on. I turned my IPOD on, put in the headphones and I was ready to roll. The volume wasn't loud and I could here what sounded like a man yelling over the song I was listening to. The song was Christopher Cross' "Caught Between" (theme from the movie Arthur). I immediately assumed that the yelling that interrupted me was a result of something I had done. I removed my headphones and turned around to examine what it might have been. I have not done anything to make anyone mad yet, but you never know. And there, about twenty feet behind me, was a truck full of watermelons. There were people all around the truck too. Why would this many people buy watermelon from this guy? There are literally hundreds of markets within one mile of here. I waited for a minute to see if I heard the noise again. There it was again in broken English.

"Watermelon cheap, watermelon good, watermelon from farm!" said the voice.

I had no intention of buying a watermelon, but wanted to see what was so special about this guy's watermelons. I headed towards the truck and away from school.


The voice repeated, "Watermelon cheap, watermelon good, watermelon from farm!"

It sounded just the same as before. It even had the same pause between words. By the time I got there some of the people had gotten over the hysteria of his watermelons and had walked on. The man was outside the truck helping people with their purchase when the sales pitch repeated itself. I quickly learned that he had an audio recording of a man's voice in his truck that he would play over a PA. Then I realized that it was this guy who wakes me up several times in the morning with his obnoxious watermelon truck. This made me mad, so I decided not to support this guys business in my neighborhood and I turned around and walked back towards school. I sure stuck it to him.

Let me give you a very brief history of my school. It called The Wonderland Junior English School. It is the second most expensive English School in Seoul and it's been voted The Best by the Korean Times for Kindergarten education. The school recently moved to a new location, and believe me, it's very nice. I was only hired here because I taught last year. Who knew?

Waiting for the traffic light to tell me to cross the street, I was thinking about my students from last year. (By the way, a voice literally tells you to cross the street.) Where are they right now? How was their summer? Will I ever know how they turn out? I miss them, and I think that is a very hard part of teaching. You are put into a room with twenty kids and told to teach them. You are told to be the first to show them the world. I love this feeling, but it's sad you don't know how much you really meant to them. I guess that come the territory. So I crossed the wide street that has two crosswalks, so that pedestrians don't run into each other when walking in the opposite directions. I look up at the modern looking building that said in bold letters, WONDERLAND JUNIOR ENGLISH SCHOOL. There I was, at my new school, where I would be for one full year. I wasn't standing there but a minute when a chubby little Korean girl tapped me on my leg. I looked down at her with a smile.

"George Teacher?" she asked.

I knew teachers had told the kids that a new teacher was coming soon, but I couldn't believe she picked me out.

"Yes, I am George Teacher. What is your name?"

I spoke slowly and just assumed that they put a "teacher" after their teachers name.

"My... name... is... Grace."

I could tell she was happy with nailing that introduction. She did too. I guessed she was about five years old, but I'm still having a hard time gauging age here. Actually, I am twenty-five years old here. In Asia, they do not start at zero, like we do. They start at one. That gives them one of their extra years. The other one comes from the Chinese lunar new year which if it falls on a certain day and you are this old blah, blah, blah, you get the point. People usually don't celebrate their birthday either. They recognize it, but on New Years Day, everyone becomes one year older. I'll be 26 in October (my birthday). Watch out Kristin, here I come.

So little Grace scurries inside and I, not knowing where to go, follow her. The school has four floors. The bottom floor is where Mr. Won, the director, and other Korean teachers park and have their offices. I slowly walked up the first flight on stairs, acknowledging how modern the school was. The steps alternated between colors: three red steps, three yellow steps, three blue steps, three green steps. It does that all the way up to the roof.

On the walls, there is wallpaper with classic Warner Brothers cartoon characters saying different things in English. It actually looks nice. I'll try to put a few pictures of the inside of the school on webshots. The second floor is the main floor. This is where all the action is.

I walked up to the very nice glass doors that separated the stairwell from the classrooms and teachers offices.

"Here we go." I thought.

I was greeted by Annie, who is the Korean equivalent to an assistant principal. She smiled at me with her big shiny braces that, judging by the shape of her teeth, were just put on recently. She introduced herself and led me to the offices. We walked past the front desk where three women diligently answered phones. We came to a door that read: Teacher's Offices. It swung open and there I saw Dave and Mike covered in kids. They were everywhere. I looked at Annie and noticed she was not too happy about this.


"Out, out, out!" she yelled.

The kids left right away and we pressed on. She showed me to my desk.

"You will be here."

She pointed to my new desk. I was happy with it. It was loaded with supplies, a computer, textbooks and a nice new chair. It was secluded too and, best of all, it was right next to the window. Annie walked off and I went to sit down. It was comfortable and the air conditioning vent was aimed right at me. I looked around my desk and after deciding that I was satisfied, I did a little three-sixty spin in my chair. This was going to be great.

Next to my little space was Rhett. This will be good, after all, he's been here for four years and he can kind of take me under his wing and show me the ropes.

Rhett leaned over towards me.

"You want to help with morning warm-up?"

I didn't have a clue what that was, but didn't want to be a pain on the first day, so I agreed.

I followed him out of the office, past the front desk and into this room that was surrounded by glass. It kind of looked like a racquet ball court, but without the high ceiling and this room was furnished with a huge screen for the kids to watch movies on a rainy day. In the room there were kids everywhere. They were jumping, running, screaming, playing and just being kids. I followed Rhett to the front of the room and, once there, the kids knew it was time to start and they all sat in rows with their own classmates. Rhett pointed to what would be my class. I eyed the kids with stern but playful look. The looked back and laughed. I returned the laughter. Rhett looked at me.

"Are you ready?" he asked with an odd smile on his face.

"What have I agreed to do?"I whispered back with a suspicious eye.

He just smiled and gave me his goofy chuckle. The music started and then, without any warning, all those kids started singing. The sound bounced off the wall making it even louder. I couldn't tell what the song was, but I pretended to know it. The first song ended and then they started "You are my Sunshine", which led to "Head, shoulders knees and toes" and to more English classics. Kay (the Korean teacher who was playing the piano), Rhett and I danced, played, sang and even acted out a couple of impromptu skits.

It was fun and when the twenty minute warm-up was over, Rhett smiled at me and said "You're doing this with me everyday." I said okay. School had officially started.

The bell rang and the kids ran off to find there classrooms. I found where I would be teaching and peaked inside. The classroom was small. It had only a felt board, a huge blackboard with the Wonderland logo on it, and a large table. The kids were all sitting around the table and quietly talking. I opened the door. The kids looked confused, but interested.

"Good morning guys!" I said clearly.

"Good morning George Teacher!"

I smiled and walked to the front of the classroom, their eye's glued on me the whole time.

"That's right. I'm George Teacher and I'm your new teacher."

Of course, I didn't know any names, so I had them tell me their names while I wrote them on the board. I asked each child their name and while I was writing their name, I would intentionally misspell it and look back at the kids. They loved it. The room would erupt in laughter when each name was spelled wrong. I would have them tell me the correct spelling, but the seed was planted. They liked me, knew I was fun, but understood, as all Korean children do, that school is for learning. I'll get into specific teaching methods and styles later as I learn more about each child's abilities and needs.

I taught that class for two forty minute periods and then they go to my Korea partner for an additional forty minutes. I originally thought that the Korean teacher was in the class with me, but she's not. Communication will not be a problem because they are not allowed to speak Korean in school. After that class, I went to my other Kindergarten class. I did the same thing with them and it went over just as well. I didn't know what was going to happen with lunch. In my contract, it says that I must serve lunch to the kids. I wasn't sure if that was going to be in a lunchroom, or like it was last year, right there is the classroom. I was in the middle of the class and all of a sudden, an older worn out Korean woman with wild grey hair and a mean look opened the door. That's right, lunch ladies are the same everywhere. She was carrying a tray with our lunch on it. She looked at me like I was supposed to be doing something, but soon realized I had no idea what she was looking at or what I was supposed to be doing. She sighed and put the tray down in the center of the table. The bell rang and the kids rushed out for their five minute break they get after every forty minute class.

I inspected the food. It was rice, boiled fish, fried tofu, a soup, some onion thing, a fruit and vegetable paste, bananas and water. It looked alright. The bell rang again and the kids rushed down the halls and returned to their rooms to eat. They all sat down very quickly, reached into their colorful Wonderland bags and pulled out their Wonderland trays, spoons and chopsticks. The kids had their own cups and some opted not to use the Wonderland chopsticks and had brought their own. Some had bunnies of their sticks, while other sported Sponge Bob Square Pants sticks. It was cute. I walked around the room serving the lunch to them and, when they had all they needed, I served myself. It was very good. When they finish lunch they are free to go play until the bell rings. This is when most of the teachers go get something else to eat, or go smoke, or do anything they have not had time to do.

I watched the kids run around. They are wild and very affectionate. The bell rang again. This was the bell for the final class. I was 1:00pm and their day was almost over. Class ended at 1:45 and after lining up, I said they could go.

"Thanks George Teacher!" they all said as they left the room.

"Have a nice afternoon kids!"

Who says you can't float the Han River?

The Han River is not a scenic river. It is not a river that people swim in and it is not a river that people float down, until now. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we're the first or that we'll be the last. All I'm saying is that it is not done... ever.

During the course of my first few days here I was trying to feel everyone out. You know, do you like to do this? Do you like to go here? Really, I was looking for a backpacking buddy. After all, I brought my gear in hopes of this, so I figured I should find out who is in and who is out. My list of potential packers was getting low and I was getting a bit frustrated when I overheard Rhett and Joel discussing a recent trip they had taken on a river. Being the nosey person I am, I butted in and demanded to know what they were talking about.

"Eh? Oh yeah, we're talking about floating down the Han River again." responded Rhett with his thick Canadian accent.

I couldn't have heard right.

"You mean a tributary don't you?" I chimed back.

He shook his head and explained to me what they had done on their previous trip. I was shocked. Why would anybody float down a river that is 1km wide and probably as dirty as the Tennessee, if not worse. We would float down the Harpeth River in Franklin in a canoe or tube the gulch in the Smokies, but this was insane. Knowing that there are limited options in a city this size, I decided I would do it.

So, that morning I rose early, as I often do, to discover that a heavy rain had descended upon Seoul. I called Rhett to see if we were still on. He laughed and dismissed the rain as if it were an early summer shower that would soon pass. I know it's monsoon season, or the end of it I should say, but getting on the Han in the rain does not sound safe. So I went against my better judgment and started the trek to his place. Joel had decided to sleep their the night before after a wild evening of Risk. Seriously, we played Risk and drank way too much. He drank the most, like always. So I got there and was greeted by Rhett getting out his rubber inflatable boat with camouflaged coloring and Joel passed out face down on the floor. Typical. At least he was face down.

After a few minutes of coaxing Joel to get a move on, we were off to Walmart to buy more boats. Each boat is equipped for one child. That's right, one child. Still, we were dedicated. After shuffling through an assortment of boats that had Barbie and My Little Mermaid decals all over them, we spotted ours: The Well Life 808. It had it all. Two paddles, a pump, a rope and its own handy carrying case. I was getting excited. We used to do this all the time and now I was getting the chance to do on the largest river in Korea. Now all we needed was beer and snacks.

The Walmart here is different. Remember, this city is built up, not out. So we found the escalator and made our way to the food section. Scanning over the Korean beers I realized that I had yet to find a preference. I defaulted the decision to the pro's, as I so often do here. They went with Cass, a cheap Korean beer that I'm told is the equivilant to Pabst Blue Ribbon. I asked if there was an equilavnt to Steele Reserve here. They laughed and made some hurtful comment abut my favorite American beer. I decided to let it go. After we had our chicken and beer, we headed to the subway for our day of fun.

This was to be my first subway ride in Seoul. I was excited as I always am and didn't know what to expect. We started walking down the long steps from the main road to the large underground train. It's a huge system. As we walked down, there was a common sight in large cities: a homeless man with a hat siiting in front of his slouched body. This has always been a weakness of mine and I reached into my pocket to fetch some won. Rhett saw me doing this.

"No, don't give him any money." he ordered.

I thought this was cold and somewhat odd too. A Canadian telling an American not to help the poor seemed a little backwards.

"Why?" I asked.

"Do you see his hands?"

I didn't quite understand what he was talking about, so I moved to the opposite side of the stairs to get a better look.

"Now do you see his hands?" he repeated.

The poor gentlemen did not have any hands. This made me feel awful. Why would I not want to help someone who has lost their hands? I was still perplexed why Rhett told me not to give him anything, but with all the people walking up and down the stairs I had walked past the man. It was too late to help him.

I asked Rhett what he thought happend. He told me that usually, in Korea and Japan, when people have no hands or fingers, it is a result of a debt that could not be paid back to the mob. Gruesome huh? He told me not to pay the guy because that money would go to the mob and not to better that man. I didn't care though. The poor guy has no hands. I made a promise to myself that if I saw him again, I'd drop some won into his hat.

I realized that I have yet to tell you about the currency. It's the won and it's about 1 USD to 1000 KRW. Easy as that.

So we arrived at the subway terminal, paid our 1000 won for the ticket and waited for the train to come. I looked around the station which is called Hanti-yeok or Hanti Station. It was so clean. Not any graffiti, trash, bad smells or homeless people. I noticed that the Koreans were becoming increasingly interested in what we were up to. They looked at us and saw four foreigners with shorts, sandals, beer, sunglasses and inlfatable boats. No one asked as it is rude to invade others' privacy here, but I know they wanted to. Our train came and on we went. The inside of the train was normal: Seats, windows and those things to hold on to. We had been moving for about three minutes when the train left the underground world and darted onto a large bridge which spanned the whole Han River. We all looked at the conditions of the water and the sky. It was starting to get sunny. The water was still a thick brown brackish color with a fast current, but the promise of a pretty day in Seoul seemed to override the water conditions. We reached our stop and exited the train.

This was my second time to be across the Han, the first being the Itaewon evening. We started looking for access to the river and were having trouble. We decided it would be best if we asked a local merchant. A 7-11 was spotted (yes, a real 7-11) and we headed that way. As we approached I heard loud music. When we got closer to the source I realized it was Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock". I laughed to myself. We reached the other side of the street and literally tripped over the large stereo that had been set up. In front of the stereo was another hat and another gentleman perched behind it. I looked at his hands and fingers. They were there. Then I looked at his face, he had down syndrome. A guilty feeling washed all over me again, and without hesitation I dropped 200 won in his hat. I joked to myself that the mob couldn't have done that, but realized quickly that that was pretty tasteless. Oh well.

After little luck with the 7-11 guy we decided to just get into a taxi and tell them to stop when we saw a good place to get out. We piled in the car and the driver, who was an older man with gray hair dismissively laughed and lit a Marlboro Red. I thought this to be odd, most Koreans smoke Korean cigarette's. Still, I've only been here a little while. We were dropped off at a huge park that was equipped with pools, soccer fields, baseball fields and basketball goals. It was right on the banks of the Han. In fact, while I was on the bus from the airport I noticed that all of these parks were flooded, some up to the backboard of the basketball goals. We were about three hundred yards from the river still and had to walk the rest of it.

There were people picnicking, practicing dances for school or some other performance, skateboarding on the small skate park and doing anything else people would do at a park. When I say park though forget American parks with grass and trees and instead imagine a mall parking lot with all the above amenities. We made it down to the water, but decided that the attention we were getting at the park was not a good thing, so we walked on. We walked for twenty minutes until Joel had to stop and use the restroom. The restroom was next to a bridge and under that bridge, like most large bridges here, were hundreds of older men drinking, gambling and socializing. Their bikes were parked in long rows next to them. At first I assumed these men were of low social status. In the States most people who hang out under the bridge didn't exactly just finish playing the back nine at the club. These guys might have. Since you can do anything you want in Korea, we figured it was time for a beer. We sat down, still waiting for Joel, and cracked a nice cool Cass beer. Joel finished only to be greeted by the three of us yelling at him and wondering what had taken so long. We chug the beers and I ran to use the restroom too. Luckily I did not have to relieve myself in the same way that Joel did. Upon entering the restroom I saw the toilet... or should I say lavish hole. I believe this is the Turkish bathroom that Uncle John referred to in an earlier comment. I held my breath and was in and out in record time.

After a quick survey, we decided the other side of the Han would be better to enter the current. We climbed up the stairs and walked the 1km to the other side. Of course, we couldn't get down to the river from there, so we cracked another beer in frustration and walked back to our original side. The men under the bridge snickered a bit, but who were they? They were drinking under the bridge, we were drinking on the bridge. Finally we reached our landing where we were to inflate the boats and start our voyage.

As we were inflating our boats with these awful pumps, about twenty kids approached us and started talking to us in broken English and very fast Korean. They thought that if they asked us enough in Korean that we would finally understand.

"Hi, hello, annyeong, hi, bye, hello." they said in what seemed to be in unison.

Still, we just made playful faces at them as we tried to get these boats up and running. Soon adults came to see what we were up to. They did not bother to speak to us, instead they just laughed and smiled. They might have been making fun on the four crazy foreigners, but laughter never makes me feel bad. The boats were ready and we were off.

Dave, Joel and I had no problem getting started. We were like De Soto on the Mississippi, navigating that river with authority and a keen eye. Rhett, on the other hand, is a bigger guy and soon realized that he was going to have a wet day. After a few frustrating attempts to get his boat moving, he too was off. Our day had started after three hours of preparation.

The river moved swiftly and we didn't really need our paddles for propulsion, but rather for steering. After reaching the center of the river, we could start relaxing. People still remained at the landing where we took off and a lot of the kids were riding their bikes along with us shouting and waving the whole time. Kids love foreigners here. Soon a large group of South Korean military men came into view. They were running and shouting as so many military companies do when exercising and just as quickly as they came, they were gone. Only faint shouts could be heard as they ran down the road. We'd hear them a lot that day, but unlike the other Koreans on the shore, they did not look at us. They knew better. I really got to take in the city on that boat. The high rise apartments reaching way up into the sky, the hundreds of beautiful churhes showing their crosses to the heavens, it was all so pretty. The city's architecture changed very little during the course of our day, but the landscape did a lot. There are hills, mountains and valley all over the place. Lush rolling hills ran into rigid and rocky mountains which would give away to the hills only to fall into the calm valleys. I love the scenery here.

We laughed, joked, talked and sang all the way down the river. We would switch between classic rock and great eighties music. "We Built this City on Rock and Roll" by Jefferson Starship, "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor, "Born on the Bayou" by CCR, "Winds of Change" by The Scorpions and "Where the Streets Have No Names" by U2 were all in the repetoire. I think those bands would have appreciated the effort. I know we did.

The sun started to set and we decided to call it a day. We saw an island ahead that had access to the road and we headed that way. A local fisherman with a tired, sun-dried face and brown teeth told us with a smile where the subway was and that concluded our trip. I thought it would be appropriate if I gave a cheers to end our day on the Han River...

"To new friends in Korea... Cheers!"

A night in Itaewon...

Oh Itaewon.

This area of Seoul was once geared exclusively to the foreign crowd, but in recent time has seen a rise in Korean inhabitants, businesses and anyone looking for a wild night. It's located across the Han river from where I am (southeast Seoul) and it flows west and empties into the Yellow Sea. As you know, the Yellow Sea is east of China and south of North Korea. It's a huge river and I already have a great story to write about it. Hopefully I'll get to it today.

It was rumored that we were going to go to Itaewon and honeslty I wasn't too thrilled. Kristin had done some research on Seoul prior to my departure and read that it's not a place to go because of all the obnoxious foreigners. She was right about the obnoxious foreigners, but wrong that it's not a place to go. The only thing I didn't like about it was all the US Military personnel, but they have to go somewhere right?

So we walked over to Rhetts place as usual. It looks as though his place is the central meeting point. Aaron and Mike also live close and there is a great roof we sit on and grill out. It also has a great view of the city. I've never lived in a city before, let alone a huge city like this, and I am shocked by the beauty of it. I never thought I would say that and during the day it's different, but when those stars come up and the moon lights up the Asian sky, I can't help it. It's gorgeous. I've never seen the moon reflect so beautifully in a city. The way that the buildings project the light to the streets below is just incredible. I imagine I'll be writing a lot about this city's beauty as time goes by.

So the six of us get into a cab, split up three in each and are on our way to the obnoxious foreign district. I decided I'd tell the cab driver where we were going.

"Itaewon." I said with confidence.

He gazed at me with a grimace. The kind of look that I'll be getting a lot here. It's the look of confusion. Did I say something wrong? I looked to Aaron and Gina with wide eyes hoping they'd chime in and help. They didn't though. They wanted to see me struggle a little bit, and I was fine with that. Then I remembered that you must put a "yo" after you say pretty much anything here. It's the respectful thing to do. It's like a please, or a sir.

So I fired back with confidence, "Itaewon-yo."

He nodded his head and repeated what I said but with the trademark Korean "oh" before. I nodded back to him and we were off.

It was late in the evening when we got started, but you wouldn't have known it. Traffic, both pedestrian and automobile, swallowed the taxi. Imagine a big game at Neyland Stadium when everyone is walking in or out of the stadium before or after the game and then you have an idea of what it's like here. This was only a few minutes from my door too. People were shopping, eating, drinking and doing anything else they could do on the streets. It was wild. The driver maintained his cool and even though cars, people and scooters were darting in front of him he never raised his voice or even honked. He just calmly drove, inhaling is long thin Korean brand cigarette all the way down to the butt, throwing it out at about the same time I recognized the familiar smell of a burning filter. He lit another one immediately.

We made it across the bridge and approached our destination which happened to be a Poncho's Mexican restaurant. (Don't get excited Memphis folk, it's not the chain. By the way, Mom, I didn't get a Cheesy Weenie Fun Cup.)

"Yeogi-yo!" shouted Aaron. (That means "here".)

We had almost past the restaurant and gone into heavy traffic. I looked at the what we owed. It was W 2100. That's only two dollars and ten cents. I couldn't believe it, so I asked Gina how this is possible. She gave me that trademark phrase, "This is Korea..." And with that I understood. In case your wondering though, the base rate in a cab is one dollar and twenty cents and it takes awhile for it to go up from there.

I'll admit it, I was excited about Pancho's. I wanted the cheese dip and all sorts of things I was accustomed to at the Mexican places back in the States. We walked up the stairs and entered the dark smoke-filled restaurant. The music caught my attention right away. It was The Buena Vista Social Club, a great Latino band of our time. The song was the Chan Chan. We were directed to our table which was right next to the bar. Behind the rows of American Whiskey and Tequila were two televisions that were turned to the the Armed Forces Network (AFN). This is the station that that plays all American shows. It was playing Friends. I had seen the episode before, but still enjoyed seeing familiar faces. All of a sudden the televisions were turned off and the music was turned up. One of the male employees, a Latino and possibly even Mexican, cleared a little room for himself. We all knew what was coming. This guy had greasy hair that was slicked back and a tight pair of worn out blue jeans. The music took him over and he went wild on that impromptu dance floor. He moved his hips to the beat while clapping his hands almost frantically. He went from table to table trying to convince the women to get up and dance with him. No one did and I felt sort of bad for him. I don't blame the women though, he was creepy. When he saw that this wasn't working he tried to get the men with women to assist him. He tried a few tables, got no takers and retired to his post behind the bar. The music was turned down and the televisions turned back on.

The menu was so limited that I got a burger. It wasn't bad, but I wouldn't do it again. I asked the others if they enjoyed their meals. No one did. We drank a pitcher and decided to go to another bar. Poncho's will not be at the top of my list in Itaewon.

As we left I noticed two GI's walking into Poncho's. They were in uniform. I asked Rhett why and he told me they go from bar to bar making sure no soldiers were still there. Then I realized that they have curfews and have to be in at 11pm on the weeknight's and 1am on the weekend.

"So that's why we didn't come out until now." I said jokingly.

Rhett looked back at me and said, "You got it."

We walked down the road for a couple minutes then made an abrupt turn straight up a long dark hill. I assumed there was a neat bar up there, so I didn't think anything about it. As we made our way up there we passed a couple dance clubs, at which there were two very large black men working as bouncers outside the door. They were the only black guys that I had seen since I'd been here and still are the only black guys I've seen here. We walked on and then there was an influx of GI's and scantily dressed Korean women congregated outside some small bar-like businesses. I guess the curfew inspectors hadn't made their way there yet. Can you guess where we were? That's right, outside of the mini red light district. There were about fifteen or so brothels along that road. It was odd. The woman wore very tight vinyl clothing and their skirts were so short that you could hardly see them. They would approach real quickly and say something I couldn't understand. I didn't want to get too close to them. To their defense, drugs are not a problem in Korea. People simply don't use them like they do in the West. These prostitutes did not look unhealthy, they were not street-walkers and did not do it to support a drug habit. Still, it was creepy and we continued up the road and eventually down a large flight of stairs where we met the main road again.

We ended up at The Rocky Mountain Bar. It was a small two-floor bar filled with Canadian and America teachers. There we drank Western beer and played great drinking games. It was nice to be playing the same games here as I do at home with my friends. We played Drunken Jenga, Circle of Death and even a little beer bong. We have also played flip-cup here, but that is another story. I met people from Quebec, Ohio, Idaho, Florida and Michigan, just to name a few. The female English teachers here do not date the Korean men. The male teachers date the Korean woman, but never the other way. With that in mind, you can imagine how happy the female teachers get when they see an English teacher. Some of them were good-looking at that bar, but the typical female English teacher is an overweight Canadian. Don't worry about it though, I'll be figure something out.

So we stayed there until the wee hours of the night, made our way home without incident and went to bed with the plan to go on the Han River in the morning. That post will come next though...

To my friends at home...

I hope you are all doing well and I'll try to do my best to write often and update this as much as possible. I do want to know how everyone is adjusting to their new settings.

Sid, how is ATL? I want to know all about it? Your house, your job, your CPA, Amos Dog, Sara and anything else you want to tell me. I'd even like to hear about the Braves. So keep me updated.

Byrns and Danz, how is the new place? Are you lonely without Danz? When does he return? I want to know about it all, including your Pnuma Trio incident. Was the show good though? When school starts I'll hear about that too. Have you chosen a professor to study under yet? Are you two going to FUNK Fest? Next year, we'll all go. Are you taking care of the Splash? When does B-Randon and Tyler get there? How was Germany? I miss you guys. Let me know.

Roger, is Nash ready for your return? Will you move home for a few months before you get your own place? Who else will be there? How's Meg-O? When do you start work? Will you miss Knoxville? When are you going to visit ATL? Fill me in.

Cougar, you smell. How is the job? How is K-Town? Are you getting tired of it yet, or sinking in deeper? Is Ryan O doing well? How's the music scene doing there? Any new ladies? How's the slippery slope doing? I want to know.

D-Ray, when does your job end? How is the place? How does it feel to know that my place here is bigger than yours plus I have a balcony and washing machine? Feels bad doesn't it? Are you excited about your final year at school? Where to next? How's Daddy-Ray? Say F, say A, put a R in the middle, and you've got FRA... Let me know some new ones.

Mutton, how's San Fran? How was the move? Where do you live? What are you doing? Do you know a lot of people out there? Are you thinking about Thailand? How long will you stay in Cali? Are you traveling around that region? I gotta know.

MB, are you ready for a little Grad school? Where are you living these days? Have you gone to Nash recently? Still at Copper Cellar? Casey? Are you going to any STS9 shows soon? How will Knox be without the recent bunch that left? Talk to me...

Splash, Ramell and H-bag, I'll just email you lovely ladies...

If I forgot you, that means I do not like you. Only kidding, but do fill me in.

I love and miss you all very much. Have fun! Go deeper for me, I'm not sure I'll be able to convince these guys to do so.

Fellow Teachers...

First of all this post was messed up because I tried to add a picture to it. That is why Rhett's description was deleted. Sorry, I'll try to fix it


I guess I should introduce the other foreign teachers who are here with me. We're a mixed bunch, but get along great. It's a new experience for me to know people from all over the country, let alone the world. So I'll briefly describe them:

Aaron is from Chicago. He's 24 and just recently signed his second year contract. He graduated from the University of Chicago with a Philosophy degree. He too has been very helpful. At the end of my first night he and is Korean girlfriend Gina stayed up and walked me home. Thank God, because I would have been wondering around all night with no idea what to do or where to go for help. I still don't know my address. Aaron is stocky, but not meant to be. He might be enjoying the Korean food too much, but he carries it well. He's going to be the one that I discuss politics with here and all other world affairs. As Uncle John put it, "we'll solve all the world's problems." He likes to read non- fiction and listens to similar music. In fact, when he told me he was from Chicago I immediately asked him if he listened to my personal favorite (or second favorite according to Danz and Byrns) Umphrey's Mcgee. His eyes lit up and said that he has seen them and really enjoys them. Actually, he had a lot a friends who have gone to Summer Camp (a music festival that I went to this summer) in Illinois. He also likes Sound Tribe Sector Nine, another favorite of mine. Plus, he'll be able to fill in for Chris Byrns while I'm here. No one can replace Byrns C though...that would be impossible.

Joel is next. This guy is outrageous. He is a 28 year old foul mouth history major from Baton Rouge. He was graduated from the University of New Orleans and has since traveled around the world and taught all over the place. I'm talking Guatemala, Spain, Honduras, China, Thailand, and now he's here. This guy has seen a lot. He's got interesting ideas about xenophobia, homogeneity, and racism too, but I'll post several times about that as the year progresses. He has a very interesting world view. It's different and I don't always agree, but he's a smart guy and he's always willing to debate, especially after a few drinks. He does not actually teach at my school though. He did last year, but went home for grad school only to find that New Orleans was not the same city that he once loved. On a side note and I thank Kristin for this fact, South Korea gave more money to the Katrina effort than any other country. Maybe they know one day with all this monsoon activity over here Seoul will need their help. Back to Joel... He says he'll return after this year, but who knows. I think he's had a hard time shaking the world traveler ideals he has held so close to him for the past six years. We'll see. He's a good guy.

Dave Lohman is another great guy. I know his last name because he is on facebook. He's got dark skin, dark hair and looks rather Jewish, but is actually German. What a great breed we are. My first night here I was with Rhett at his place waiting for all the other teachers to come over before we went out and they kept on referring to somebody as "Nosey". This is a nickname he has earned here. I also have a large nose as you all know and assumed that it was only a matter of time until it is discussed. Of course my nose has always been a topic of discussion, so I am not offended or anything like that. Within a minute of thinking that to myself, here comes Joel, "Well, you might be able to give him some competition. You two should have a nose-off." The room erupted in laughter as did I, so they knew no line was crossed. It was funny, and I was happy that they felt comfortable enough with me to joke like that. That's how friends joke. So Dave comes in and, yeah, he's got a large nose too. It's different than mine though. Kristin would understand when I say that his measurements are little larger. Dave went to Dickinson College in Pennsylvania for Music. He loves classical music and from what I understand, has a beautiful baritone singing voice. I tried to get him to sing me a little number, but he refused claiming he would be embarrassed. I'll get him to do it and I'll report back. Apparently, he sang "My Heart Will Go On" from the Titanic movie in a wedding a few weeks ago. I bet that was funny. He's a great guy too like the rest of them.

Mike is from Chicago as well and studied international business at the University of Chicago. He is a quarter Japanese and has been in Asia on and off his whole life. He speaks Japanese and Korean very well. He is actually taking classes here to improve his Korean. Rhett is also doing that. I prefer to use my hands when my taxi/restaurant vocab runs out. Mike likes basketball, American football and working out. However, he is not defined by that. He is a very smart, very friendly guy. He'll be a lot of fun here and he has probably helped me out the most with my broken Korean vocab. I'd be lost if these guys weren't around and ready to help out.


Ben is from Wales. Unfortunately, I do not know a lot about Ben since he's only been out with us once since my arrival. He does seem nice and very loyal, but beyond that I just don't have much to say yet.

There are a few more teachers, but many of them have been traveling the past week since we've been on vacation. I'll meet them and update this post.

What a first night it was...

After being picked up at my place by Rhett, we cruised over to his place via motorcycle. Rhett has been here for four years and is about to sign on for another year. He'll be here for life. He's working on his Korean in hopes of going to grad school here. He speaks very well and I've been lucky that he, as well as the other teachers, have helped me with the language barrier. It is going to be hard for awhile, but I'll pick up the language soon.

I have not been here long, but trying to speak Korean and think Korean is slighly alterting my accent, or lack there of accent I guess. Speaking Korean requires one to use their tongue differently than when speaking clear English. This synthesis is making my voice sound more like a northern mid-westerner. You might be thinking that's because there are a lot of Canadians here teaching (not at my school though) and that's why. You might be right, but it doesn't sound Canadian. Who knows? Back to the first night...


As I said we were on a motorcycle, which to me is funny to imagine anyways. I never thought I'd be on the back of a motorcycle in Korea. I had no helmet and was a little concerned anout my safety and legality. I asked Rhett about this and he dismissively replied, "This is Korea." That attitude is prevelant with the teachers I think. There doesn't seem to be much we can't do. I'll go into detail on that concept as time goes by. So on the way there I was still shocked by the traffic. There was so much of it and it was clearly evening by then. There were people cruising in and out of traffic on motor-scooters and motorcycles without any regard for their own safety. The Koreans mostly drive the scooters and all of the delivery drivers drive them. Some have pizza on the back, some have chickens and other have toilet paper. They are all different.

So we arrived at Rhetts and that's where I met the some of the teachers. I walked in the door to Rhett's apartment and, without thinking, forgot to remove my Chaco's (sandals for those of you who do not know). I was corrected quickly. This suprised me. I didn't think that the other foreigners would adhere to the customs that much, but they do. So I sat down on the couch that Rhett told me he had scavenged from the garbage. Gross right? I know I think of the bums in the fort when I hear "scavenge", but it's different here. The Koreans throw out furniture that is still in great condition and since there is no Goodwill here, they just chuck it out. So, sitting in this apartment full of second-hand furniture which seemed to contain no bed, I waited to meet the people who would be my friends for the year. First came Joel.

Joel is from Baton Rouge, LA. He is 28 years old and planned on being in the States this year for grad school in New Orleans, but was turned off when he went home to a hurricane devastated city. So he came back, but made it clear that he wants this to be his last year. He went to The University of New Orleans and studied history. He walked in the door wearing reasonably nice clothing: a white buttton down, nice jeans and black leather shoes. Don't let his clothes fool you. He does not act as proper as it may seem. He has a foul mouth and loves to use it. He also does a great Mayor Ray Nagin impersonation. It's hilarious.

Mike walked in the door next. He is a quarter Japanese. He has been in and out of Asia his whole life. He also is planning on staying here for life. He has not yet made his mind up whether he'll stay in Korea or go to Japan. I think he likes it here more, but knows there are more oppurtunities in Japan. He studied at The University of Chicago where he obtained his degree in International Business. He is also fluent in Korean and Japanese, so he has a leg-up on the rest of us.

Then came Aaron and Gina. Aaron is 24 and from Chicago. He went to The University of Chicago as well, but did not know Mike. They are of a different breed. Aaron studied Philosophy there and just recently signed another one-year contract. Gina is Aaron's girlfriend of nine months. She is Korean, but lived in Australia for ten years during her middle school and high school years. I'm not sure if I can tell whether her accent was altered by her time there, but I'll keep my ears open. These two have been very helpful so far. They have shown me around, called me a lot and kept me informed on what is going on. They are great people.

So we were drinking for a few minutes at Rhetts place while we were waiting for the rest of the people to get there. Rhett had given me a beer called OB. From what I hear it is like the Natural Light of Korea. Mmmmm right? They were drinking Cass. I prefer Cass to OB. So while we were drinking they kept on referring to another teacher who was on his way by the name "Nosey". I assumed they were referring to his nose and knew that it was a matter of time until the size of my nose became the topic of conversation. Sure enough, that came next. "Well, you might be competition for him." joked Joel. I didn't care. The size of my nose has always been something to joke about with friends. I'm glad that they felt comfortable enough to joke like that with me already. So in comes "Nosey", but his name is Dave Lohman really. He is from Pennsylvania and studied Music. He loves classical music and claims to have a beautiful baritone singing voice, but I have gotten to hear it yet. He sang at a wedding a few months ago. He was not proud of it though because he sang "My Heart Will Go On" from Titanic. I'm not sure where he went to school, but he is on facebook, so I'll find out soon. Dave is the youngest, but only by two months. Next is me and then from there I'm not sure.

So the six us headed out to the bars, walking in the middle of the road and being loud as can be. We reached our destination. It was a local bar and restaurant filled with loud and drunk Koreans. I heard that these people were discreet and that might be true during the work week, but when that alcohol gets to them they get wild. The entrance of the bar was at the bottom of some steps. We walked up them, passing drunk and soon-to-be passed out Koreans. They were swaying back and forth and using the wall for support on their way down to the street. We found our way to our table and, without hesitation, ordered beer and liquor to the table. Next came rice, squid and some vegetable dish. Those of you who eat with me on a regular basis know that I don't really care for spicy food or really anything like that, so you can imagine my apprehension, but I didn't really have an option. The food came and was placed in the middle of the table. I looked around to see how everyone else approached it. I didn't want to make any errors. They grabbed their chop sticks and ate right off the communal plate in the middle. The drinks are communal as well. If you get a liqour of some sort it's in a bottle and you pour shots for yourself when you want. The beer is served in huge pitchers. Luckily, you get you get your own glass for that. The rice wine, which is white and served in what's called a kettle, is gross. If you haven't had it before I can't explain it to you. I will not be drinking that this year. The water is served in a dog bowl, literally. It's a metallic bowl that has ice and water in it. Everyone at the table shares it too.

So more teachers came as the night progressed. Ben, from Wales and Nate, from Ottawa slipped in during the course of the night. They are great guys as well. We stayed there until around 4:30 or so that morning and had a great night filled with arm wrestling, talking, arguing, shot after shot and much more. Dave actually passed out in the bar and Rhett decided to put his own underwear on Dave's passed out head which would be accompanied by an opened umbrella. Pictures were taken and when he woke up he laughed it off. We left at this point and most of us went home. I, however, continued on with Ben, Aaron, Gina and Jase (a korean teahcer) for a little more drinking and eating. I was suffering from jet lag and was not tired. After a couple more hours of beer and Sake at a Japanese restaurant we walked home. I did not know where I lived so Aaron and Gina walked me there in the early morning rain. On the way there, we came across a very well-dressed Korean man who was face down in the street, soaking wet, waving his phone around and yelling something that I couldn't understand. Later I heard he was put in a cab by the police.


My first night was a lot fun and these people made me feel good about what I'm doing. If I did not have them I'm not so sure I'd be able to do this. Of course, they are not comparable to my friends at home whom I love and miss...

Living in style.

I'll take a break from storytelling and let you know about this little apartment where I live and the area around me.

It is the second most expensive area to live in Seoul. There are department stores, electronic stores, book stores, make-up stores, sunglass stores, designer clothing stores, pet stores and every other kind of store you can imagine. I live parallel to a very large street, of which I am not sure of the name. I think it is Gangnum St (pronouced Kognam), but it's written in Korean, so who knows. There are many Western Restuarants close to me as well and over one-hundred Korean bars and restuarants within two minutes. I'm not exagerating either. There is a Subway, Burger King, Dunkin Donuts, Outback, Tony Roma's, Pizza Hut, Papa Johns, Kraze Burger, TGI Friday, McDonalds and a handfull of other western chains. The WalMart is within ten minutes and has most of the same stuff as they do back home. As much as I have always hated Walmart, it was nice to see the name. Let's just hope they provide insurance to their employees here.

My apartment is a three story complex with only eight tenants. It is smaller and less crowded because we are in what they call the "Manhattan of Seoul." Only Americans call it that actually, but still. I am in Apartment 2-1 on the second floor. There is a code to get into the building as well. There is no elevator, only nice marble stairs. Don't get ahead of yourself. Everything is made of brick or marble in Korea. No one uses wood or anything else. It's still very nice though. My actual apartment is one room. Most of the places here are one room because they are so expensive. I'll put pictures up soon enough, but I'll explain it too you because I'm sure my family would like to know what it looks like. You walk in and there is an area a couple inches below the main floor where you take your shoes off. This is very important to understand. You are expected to remove your shoes right away when entering someone's home. Even my friends here to it when we go the each others homes. In the area there is a closed-door shelve for storage and I guess my guests' shoes, but I'm not sure yet. You turn left and there is the main room. I have a desk with this computer on it; a movable wardrobe closet; a chair; an ottaman; a single bed and aTV. They also provided a phone and a neat video phone that allows me to watch the camera's in the building. It's not bad really. The bathroom is large and has a toilet, sink and shower. The shower is odd though. The bathroom floor slopes towards the center of the room where a drain is located. The shower head is detachable and is mounted on the wall. So when you shower you're just in the bathroom, there's no separation. Odd, but charming. The kitchen is small, but larger that you might think. My friends will know the size when I say it is larger than Laura's Shelbourne kithen, but smaller than my old kitchen on 13th street. The refrigerator is small, but not as small as dorm fridges. To my suprise I have a balcony and a washing machine. I'll eat on the balcony in the morning, but it's not a good view, just other apartments. Koreans do not sit out there though, they all seem to dry their laundry out there instead.

Oh yeah, there is a park and playground right next to my place as well. Nothing too exciting, but the Koreans like to sit out there in the early mornings or late at night and drink and smoke.

So that is my home. I do like it and will be happy here for the year...

A Rainy Arrival...

I got off the plane not knowing what to expect. I didn't know where to go or how I would even leave the airport. It was an odd feeling. So I followed the herd and ended up at customs. They questioned me in Korean and broken English. They were not happy that I didn't know my Korean address or phone number, but after seeing that I had no idea what to tell them, they stamped by passport and sent me on my way. The next task for me was finding my bags. Luckily I saw Robert and located my bags without any trouble. Now I was ready to go through another checkpoint where I was to declare what I was bringing into Korea. "Guns, knives, explosives, biological and chemical weapons, fruit, vegetables, pornography, and books about North Korea" were all on the list. I checked "No" for all of them and handed it to the Korean military man. He barely glanced at it and pushed me through. I should have packed my Agent Orange. Only kidding, but it struck me as odd to ask such questions, especially with the rigorous security measures taken by the US and Korea.

Once again, I followed the masses and ended up standed in front of a large crowd of happy cheering Koreans. They had balloons, placards, camera and huge smiles. This was not for me, but what a welcome! After panning the crowd I saw a tall Korean man in a nice suit holding a small sign that read "Mr. George Hogan". I had told my mom that I wanted to take a picture of this moment, but when it came time to do so I was too late with the camera. Plus the batteries were dead. Typical. So this man came over to me with a huge smile and helped with my bags that I was clearly struggling to navigate through the masses. He went and purchased our bus tickets and told me to wait where I was. I peered at the other people around me and was amazed my the amount of smokers. Everyone was smoking. In the States you can't even smoke within 30 m of the door, but here it seems you better light-up right next to the door. (Don't worry mom, I didn't smoke there.) So the man returned and both of us boarded the rather modern looking bus. After the long flight I was not happy to be on the bus, but I didn't really have a choice.

The bus was nice and loaded with TV's and all sorts of other useless amenities. At this point I was still not sure who this man was. I thought maybe he was my schools' director, but didn't know for sure until he handed me his buisness card. His name was Yong Jin Lee and he was the President of the recruiting company I used to get over here. So we continued down the traffic-filled highway and I looked out the window during the pauses in conversations with Jong. He told me what I was looking at and tried to make small talk, but there was only so much the two of us could talk about.

The airport is only 15 km from the bus station, but this ride took us an hour and a half. The bus driver weaved in and out of traffic without any regard for the other vehicles on the road. I don't know how he didn't hit anybody, but he didn't. Interestingly enough, the drivers who came close to being hit never expressed any anger or aggression. I looked hard too. They wouldn't hit their steering wheel, raise a hand or a certain finger, yell or even honk the horn. I thought that these people must be the calmest people in the world. In that kind of traffic I would expect some emotion to be displayed, but not here.

The city of Seoul is hard to describe. It doesn't really have a city center. It's spread out in between mountains and literally is developed wherever the space allows. There are rows of huge apartment complexes that reach hundreds of feet into the air. They are stacked on top of each other, squeezed in between each other and built right behind and in front of each other. It's hard to describe, but if you can picture this, than you can understand Seoul. Of course, different areas were built at different times and each district has its own style. I'll explain mine later.

Finally we make it the bus station in what most would consider to be the downtown area, but as I said there are many areas one could consider downtown. One place that I saw that might be considered downtown was an area where the focal point was Trump World. Even in Korea you can't escape The Donald. Either way, in the bus station I needed to use the restroom, so I told Jong to hold-on for a second. I spotted a sign that said "Restrooms >". I walked towards the sign and stopped when I saw the Korean symbols on the door. I figured I'd peak in and see if there were any urinals. Of course, I chose the wrong one and was greeted by an older Korean woman yelling at me and pointing towards the door. Perfect start right? I went out the door and studied the two symbols to make sure this wouldn't happen again.

Finally we arrived at my apartment and were greeted by my supervisor Rhett and one of the Korean teachers named Terry. Oh yeah, it's about 8:00 pm by now. My flight landed at 5:40pm. (Alot of younger Koreans have Western names.) Rhett is a bigger guy with wild shaggy hair and an unshaven beard. Terry on the otherhand was neat and clean shaven. Rhett is 26 and from a small town in Sasketchewon (my mouse doesn't work yet and I am having trouble using the spell check). He was very friendly right away and helped me carry my stuff to my new place. I said good-bye to Jong, thanked him and extended my hand in hopes of shaking his. He looked down at my hand with a puzzled look on is face and then back at me. I immediately recognized the cultural error I just made and proceeded to the infamous Asian bow that I've seen in movies and TV. I wasn't sure how low to go so I was conservative about it. He bowed to me, so naturally I bowed again. Of course, he bowed back, so I bowed again. This continued for a few more rounds and if Rhett didn't take me out of the bowing repetiore I'm sure it would have continued for several more rounds. I couldn't believe that they will continue bowing if you do.

I finally had made it to my new home in Korea. I was so tired and when Rhett asked if I wanted go out I knew what I should have said, but alas, I accepted the offer. He lives less than a ten minute walk from me, but had rode his mototcyle over there in case of rain. (July is monsoon season, so it rains all the time.) I hopped on the back for my first motorcycle ride ever and started my first night in Korea...

The Flight...

I know I'm behind on this, so now I am going to catch up. As the title suggests, I'll start with my flight over here...

Leaving the States initially didn't seem to be a big deal. Afterall, I had never been anywhere before, so I wasn't sure how to react. I guess no reaction is a reaction in itself though, right? So I did my best and casually strolled through the airport security and after one more look at Mom and David, they were gone and I was off on my journey.

After a brief flight to San Francisco with inluded a Bruce Willis movie ("16 Blocks" I think) I had landed in the U.S. city which was to be my last for a year. I managed to find international flights and my gate with an hour and a half to spare. I was the second person there. I looked ouside the huge airport windows and was awe-struck by the size of the 777 I was getting ready to board.
My plan to teach in Korea was suddnely becoming very real. I wasn't scared because I didn't know what to expect, but I was nervous. As my flight time seemed to get closer, more and more people were at the gate. Military people, Korean people, Japanese people, families and from what I could tell, other English teachers. Calmness washed over me when I saw those who I assumed were English teachers. They too did not know what excpect. They too had to say bye to their family and friends and they too knew that they could do this.

Finally they started boarding us. Of course I was in section 4 which meant I boarded last.

"Great." I thought to myself.
"Now I'll be waiting forever to get off the plane in Seoul."

I walked down the corridor and was shocked to see how large the plane was: spiral stairs; two large ailes; eight bathrooms that I could count; and huge seats. First class was upstairs so I didn't get to see that.

I came to my seat and was greeted rather pleasantly by a soldier from Southeast Colorado. His name was Robert Duran. (That is his real name. I'm using all real names because this is a blog, not a book.) He was Latino and sported a thin and poorly grown mustache. He was very friendly and I was happy to have somone to talk with. He told me he had been on leave for what was supposed to be 40 days, but with North Korea's recent missle tests he had been called back early. I could tell he was not happy about this, but he understood that it was his job. He said he had graduated from The University of Maryland, but as the flight contiued I gathered he had not yet gone to college and was a little embarrassed about it. Periodically he would nudge me and let me read some of his poetry which he would then turn into a rap. If I can remember correctly, he let me read one titled "Superman". It started like so:

"People always ask me why I train so hard, but they'll understand when they see I'm in charge..."

Not too articulate, but who cares. He liked doing it and it gave him an outlet. After two meals and a countless number of snacks and beverages served to us by the Korean staff, the female captain told us we were starting our final decent. Robert was sleeping, so I manuevered my way around is body and opened the window. Below us was Japan. It was beautiful. The land was so lush and green. The mountains were different than those in the States, but soon the mountains faded into a plateau which gave way to Tokyo. We were still pretty high in the air, but the size of it was obvious even from there. As fast as it came, it was gone and then we came to Busan (or Pusan), South Korea. That is the southernmost city in Korea. It is the second largest city, but nothing compared to Seoul. We finally reached Incheon (or Seoul) International Airport. The plane landed in the heavy rain. Robert gave me his number at the end of the flight. I think he felt obliged to do so, but both of us knew I probably wouldn't call and that we would never see each other again. So there I was, after weeks of planning, packing and good-byes, finally in Korea.