Chili!

That is NOT dog.

In fact, right now, the air in my apartment is pungent with the smell of chili, and not having tasted any even resembling Mexican food in the past 4 months, this is a real treat.

Before I go any further (and frankly, there isn't much further to go), I have to add that this was all made possible because of a wonderful care package that my Mom sent and which arrived today.


In short, she sent me, a big ol' bag of chili powder (not the super spicy Cayen type, but the more mild and sweet Ancho chili type that's used when making a big pot of chili), some taco seasoning, and Tumeric. And Mom, you should know, you just expanded my culinary horizons over here to the point that I don't think I'm ever coming home ;-) But really, with only these few key ingredients, I'm now going to go hog wild cooking.

Until moving here, I've always loved to cook, but I didn't realize how much I loved to cook. Today, as I excitedly tore open the box that arrived and had my nose filled by all the wonderful scents that had seeped out of the spice packages, I realized just how much I love to cook.

Well, that's about all. I can't wait another minute to eat! It smells sooooo good.

Thanks Mom, you hit a grand slam with this one :-)

Woof Woof

So, I ate dog soup (boshingtang).

It looks like this:




This is what they look like pre-soup. The breed is similar to Chow. It's called Nuerongi or Hwangu.
















In any case, the meat was quite gamey/musky, and frankly, I think it was a first-time/last-time experience all wrapped up in one. But you know what they say, "When in South Korea...."

And what else...

Nothing too interesting going on these days.

Oh, well, aside from my attempt to watch a movie in a theater. In brief, my friends Mark, Zach, Brian and I traveled about and hour to see a movie, and then we ended up at the wrong theater. So, we had to travel about another twenty minutes to get to the correct theater, which we arrived at with five minutes to spare, only to find out that they canceled the movie (due to under attendance) but neglected to update the English version of their website.

In sum, thank you SoKo for the delicious dog, but you can just keep your unreliable movie listings!

:-)

Thoughts...

The first step is ALWAYS the hardest.


Also...what do you do when you see someone not fulfilling their potential?
I think the answer is, do nothing. Yeah, DO nothing, but say something. Express to that person how you see her/him. Express to that person how you see her/him and how it's different from where they are now.

For example, you could tell the person..."I see you as successful, able to be happy, able to be comfortable..." etc.

I think helping someone to actualize their potential is similar to helping someone quit cigarettes. You can't MAKE someone quit smoking, just like you can't MAKE someone actualize their potential. The person has to quit because they want to quit. They have to actualize because they want to....And this applies in all regards. From the person in the dead end job to the person in the dead end relationship, you can't MAKE anyone DO anything. You help people gain the confidence they need to act on their own. MAKING someone do something is hollow, and regardless what that person DOES, their achievement will be built on a foundation upon which YOU have built, and thus once you get tired of maintaining that foundation, the persons achievement will crumble and fall.

For example, if you MAKE someone quite smoking, that person will go right back to smoking as soon as you stop positively supporting them. In fact, it is unlikely you could make her/him do it in the first place.

Sometimes, a person needs you to help the start to build their foundation of change, but if you comprise too much of that persons foundation, as soon as you pull away, again, they'll crumble.

In fact, maybe it's best to simply help a person build their own foundation, a foundation comprised 100% of their desire to change/achieve/whatever...yeah, that's the most sure bet for lasting change.

So, the question becomes, how do you get someone to desire that process? Well, I think you just have to tell that person your vision of how they will look post change/achievement/transformation. If someone is jobless, you'd tell them that you can see them gainfully employed. If you know someone who is depressed, you tell them that you can see them happy. If you know someone who is without direction, you tell them that you can imagine them driving forth with laser like focus. If you know someone who is in a dead end relationship, you tell them you can see them in a relationship w/ the potential to grow into something beautiful and fulfilling.


And all these ends...I think it's most important to remember the following.

NEVER GIVE UP...Especially, never give up on yourself, never give up on family, and never give up on friends.


Random stuff...I know...I hope you could bear w/ all that.


Distilled: Tell people what you believe they CAN BE and what they CAN DO and let them use that positivity as the activation energy for them defining and then actualizing their own personal growth.

Boo yah!

Skiing (T minus one month)

So, I'm surely not going to be getting in as many days on the slopes this year as I did last year, but frankly, I'm not worried. I think the days I do get in will be all that much more enjoyable. In any case, I'll be hitting the slopes on January 7th and 8th and then again on the 21st, and frankly, I can't wait.

In other news, I visited a goat farm last weekend, and it was pretty darn interesting. Wage Farm (a play on the word "waygook" which mans foreigner) is owned and operated by Doug Huffer and his wife Bonghwa. I never found out her last name, and since most Korean women don't surrender their maiden name, I'm assuming it's not Bonghwa Huffer, but frankly, that's completely tangential to this entire account. Moving on...Erik, Marc, and I, on a bitterly cold Saturday, all made the 2 hour journey to Sa-Ra (a small town outside of Gyongju) and got to see the farm. More specifically, we got to see the two goats (Stella and Rosa...blue and red collars respectively) that that Bonghwa and Doug own. In any case, I was under the impression that we'd show up, chat for a bit tour the "farm," buy some delicious goat cheese (which Doug makes by hand) and then head back to Eonyong. Suffice to say, due to Doug and Bonghwa's overwhelming hospitality, I think we spent nearly 3 hours in their house, drinking coffee, talking about Doug's job as a professor at Gyongju University and Bonghwa's past job of being a professor of sculpture at some school in Italy. We discovered that Bonghwa speaks fluent Italian, and that Doug is originally from Kansas. And if they sound eccentric from those two details alone, you've gotten the correct vibe.

To back up a little bit...

Doug has been living in SoKo for about 6 years. He married Bonghwa in the past year (I think). They live in a very traditional Korean home made of unprocessed logs and some old-school building techniques. Check out the picture.

















In any case, the place was super cozy, and seemed quite perfect for them. To briefly describe Doug (and I know this post is ALLL over the place), he is a very quiet but deeply intelligent and witty guy. He took a little while to warm up to us, but regardless of that fact, he puts off a very friendly vibe right away.

I don't know what else to say. Doug and Bonghwa are living that type of life that the New York Times would like to write some "Person of Interest" blerb all about.

And as romantic as their artsy/goat-cheese-cottage-industry/cross-cultural life seems, Doug did add that he'd like to move back to the states somewhere in the near future.

I guess only time will tell if that turns out to be true.

4:38:05

Season End Marathon in Seoul (42195 Race)

Fueled by granola bars, glucose tablets and the desire to make my three and a half months of training pay off, this past weekend, in fact, on Sunday the 27th, I completed my first marathon.

With a time of 4:38:05 I was by no means breaking any records, but I completed the entire 26.2 miles or 42.195 km, and that was exactly what I intended to do.

The course paralleled the Han River in Seoul. After running for 13.1 miles in one direction, the course simply turned right back around and retraced itself for another 13.1. From the entire course I remember seeing the North Seoul Tower, many bridge pylons (the course crossed under a bunch of bridges) and some canola flowers that were in full yellow bloom due to the uncharacteristically warm weather that we've been experiencing. The weather on the race day was a bit chilly and overcast. For running it was perfect.

The entire run was pretty uneventful. The hardest part of the course was the last 10km stretch. I could feel pre-cramp "twitches" in my left quad and my right hamstring, so it took all my mental energy to will my legs to keep from cramping, but all said and done, it worked, and I finished the race.

In the last few km I could feel my body running out of energy, so I was popping glucose tablets (the ones diabetics take) and I could feel my blood sugar rising. Specifically, I could feel the tiredness and tingling feeling disappear from my body w/ each of the tablets. It was very strange, but I was very glad I had them with me.

I finally crossed the finish line. I felt like I was in a bit of a daze, and it was almost hard to stand up. I also was having a bit of trouble balancing.

In any case, I did it and I feel really proud of myself.

I just re-read this and realized the post is somewhat hazy in the way it recounts the details of the race, but that's exactly how the race is in my mind. It's a bit hazy.

Well, that's all for now.

There's another marathon in March. I'm thinking about that one too!

Thanksgiving

In the picture to the left you can see 8 people. Behind the corner there is actually a 9th. About 15 minutes after this picture was taken a 10th person showed up, and about another 15 minutes after that an 11th and 12th and 13th person showed up. So just to make this crystal clear, in my one bedroom apartment I had the joy of very very cozily sharing Thanksgiving with 13 of my friends. Two of the the people, Jon and Rathi are from England, and five of the people, James, Esther, Won-Me, Hee-Jin, and Ashley are Korean, so more than half of our little "family" was celebrating their first Thanksgiving EVER.

Though we would have loved to have all the traditional foods (i.e. turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, etc.) they are 1) very hard to come by and 2) EXTREMELY expensive. Regarding the turkey, since no one we know owns an oven, had we wanted to buy a turkey, we would have had to fork over about $90 for a fully cooked 8-9 pound turkey. So, we decided to simply fill our feast w/ as many "American" foods as possible. The resulting feast consisted of, pizza, donuts, ice cream and potato chips. I ended up adding some Kimchi to the mix (most for our Korean guests) and my friend who is Korean, James, brought some Sundae (blood sausage) and pig liver. So, all told, we had quite the multicultural Thanksgiving feast.

We even went around the "table," or rather, we went around the circle and talked about the things for which we were thankful. Interestingly enough, I think my friends who are Korean were the most shy about the experience. My theory is that there were a couple of things at play. First, my friends who are Korean don't hang out w/ us expats as much as we all hang out w/ each other, so they shyness could be due to that. Second, though all of them are COMPLETELY fluent in English, maybe when put on the spot it made them a little shy, and third, I've noticed that in Korea many people do not show/express too much emotion in public. Talking about the things in life for which you are thankful is a pretty emotional thing to do. Regardless, everyone shared their thoughts, and it was really wonderful.

We finished the night w/ a game of catch phrase, and then around 11PM everyone headed home.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Friends, food, "family" (real and fictive) and the joy of community are all blessings, and I for one and extremely thankful to have them all in my life!

Farming and Kimchi

Farming and Kimchi

And Mr. Park does it again! Every time I hang out w/ this 69 year old man, I end up having a really enjoyable and culturally rich time.

In the picture on the left, starting from the left there is Mr. Park, Mrs. Kumi (Korean women traditionally do NOT take their husbands name), Me and my friend Amy. Behind us is a pile of just about 100 Korean cabbages, a.k.a. Napa cabbage. Regardless of what you call them, I cannot deny the fact that picking them and then wheeling them the approximately 500m to Mr. Park's house was sweat inducing work. But let me start from the beginning.

I have been enjoying copious amounts of chigae, and as you know from the recipe I included a couple posts ago, Kimchi is the key ingredient. In fact, the better quality Kimchi you use the more tasty chiagae you can make. So, in my never ending attempt to learn how to cook various different world cuisines, and just recently realizing that the Kimchi back in the states is not nearly as tasty as the stuff we have here, I figured I need to learn how to make the stuff. And that's where this all started.

Earlier this week Mr. Park told me that he and his wife had begun to make their annual batch of Kimchi. Keep in mind, their annual batch includes enough for them to sell to some distributors and to stock their shelves. This roughly translates to about 2000 cabbages. Again, the pile you can see in the picture above is just about 100 cabbages, so we're talking about a TON of Kimchi. In any case, as making Kimchi is something only married women (and older married women) typically know about, I was very excited to hear about Mr. Park's wife making her annual batch because none of my younger co-workers know the process. In any case, I asked Mr. Park if I could come watch his wife in action, and he was thrilled at my interest.

Yesterday afternoon we left Samnam, header over to Pangi Elementary to pick up Amy, and headed to Mr. Parks house. Mrs. Kumi greeted us and gave us a snack of sweet potatoes (also grown on their farm) as well as some sort of peanut tea. Mr. Park then showed us the approximately 4 trashcan sized bins FILLED w/ cabbage that would soon be turned into Kimchi. And keep in mind, these four bins will be filled dozens more times as they process a few tons of cabbage into Kimchi...all by hand.

In any case, I was excited to learn the Kimchi making process when Mr. Park suddenly asked Amy if we were ready to go pick some cabbage. Not wanting to be rude, we both obliged him and after gearing up w/ work gloves, as well as a couple borrowed coats and hats, we headed towards the cabbage field. Mr. Park lead the way since he had a big wheel barrow type device for transporting the cabbage and since he also knew the way. Seemingly effortlessly, Mr. Park dragged the wheel barrow at a very brisk pace and we finally arrived at the patch.

In less than 20 seconds, Mr. Park had begun slicing the cabbages right at their tap-root. Amy and I assumed we were supposed to fill the wheel barrow, so we did just that. A few minutes later we had filled the wheel barrow to capacity (about 20 cabbages) and then Mr. Park instructed Amy to "stay there" while he walked with me back to his home. This time, Mr. Park briskly pulled the filled wheel barrow.

We dumped the load near his front steps, and this time I got to drag the empty wheel barrow back to the field. I'm a bit embarrassed to say this, but I don't think I was able to pull it as fast as the 69 year old man. Regardless, we arrived back to the field and now it was completely dark.

Amy and I then continued to fill the wheel barrow and tote it back and forth until we had picked (and wheeled back to Mr. Park's home) about 100 cabbages.

Then, quite sweaty and surprisingly tired (we only worked for about 30 minutes) we washed our hands, headed inside, and enjoyed a super delicious dinner of dumpling soup and side dishes. To Amy's credit: She's a vegetarian and they served us meat dumplings. In the most subtle and thus polite way possible, Amy at everything except for the meat. She even at the dumpling rapper, and she didn't mention anything otherwise. (And to quickly rant about vegetarians, one of which I used to be...to be quite frank, sometimes they get preachy and expect everyone to cater to their needs. Amy's not like that at all. She rolls w/ the punches and makes the best of what ever meat is thrown her way. Mad respect.)

Finally after play farmer and eating dinner, we got to learning how to make Kimchi. It went something like this.

Mrs. Kumi dragged out two large round tubs. One was filled w/ cabbage and one was filled w/ the Kimchi chilli paste. She also got out a square container which we would use to store the finished product. In the middle of their living room Ms. Kumi, Amy and I put on rubber gloves and aprons and began the process of spreading the chili paste on the cabbage and then packing the cabbage into the square storage container. We worked for about 30 minutes and then were done.

Here's the whole process (only the last part of which we experienced)


How to Make Kimchi:
1. Take a Korean/Napa cabbage, remove and dispose of the outer leaves until you are only left w/ the whiter inner "heart" of the cabbage.

2. Cut the cabbage heart into quarters the long way.

3. Create a bucket of salt water. (I don't know how much salt to use in the mixture, but do it to taste...it shouldn't be CRAZY salty, but it also should not be too weak).

4. Dip the quartered cabbages into the salt water. Shake off the excess water and then put the "brined" cabbage into a storage container.

5. Sprinkle additional salt onto the brined cabbage.

6. Repeat steps 4 and 5 until you have used all the cabbage.

7. Let the brined/salted cabbage sit for 24-48 hours (the cabbage should look pretty wilted when it is ready. ) Make sure the cabbage is sitting in such a way that the water which is drawn out can drain off or at least not touch the cabbage. Ideally, put the cabbage into some sort of strainer and put the strainer over a bucket

8. Take the cabbage and rinse off the excess salt.

9. Rub the chili paste(yang-yome-jang)* all over the cabbage and pack the cabbage into an airtight container.

10. Let the cabbage sit in the refrigerator until it ferments to taste, or if you are in a hurry to get it fermenting, leave it out on the kitchen counter for 3-5 days (again, really judge when it is done by taste...the longer you leave it out, the tangier it'll get.)

11. Voila, you have Kimchi...this stuff can be eaten (provided it's been refrigerated) for up to a year after it's been put in the container. (In fact, I have some year old Kimchi that Mrs. Kumi gave me, and it's DELICIOUS!)

*Here's how to make the chili paste...and since Mrs. Kumi didn't give me an exact recipe, I'll approximate it here. The finished product is a semi-viscous dark red paste/soup. She said that all she uses is garlic paste and Korean chilli paste. The mixture was thin enough to spread all over the cabbage, but it was not drippy or runny. It was able to amply coat the cabbage. It was also just mildly spicy. In fact, it was not that spicy at all. If I were to make my own, I might try to use a stronger pepper. Regardless, it seemed like the mixture was about 1:1 chilli pepper paste to garlic paste w/ maybe a little extra water thrown in. I could imagine a Cuisinart would be perfect for making the paste.


Okay...That's all for now. To recap, Amy and I got WAY more than we bargained for, but I' super happy we got to experience this part of Korean culture. Everyone here gobbles up TONS of this stuff, and now, I have the secret to make it!

Standing in a Row

Occasionally, there are some kids that stand in a row in the front of the school during the morning. I never never realized until today (when one of my more fluent students told me) that those kids are being punished for some sort of wrong doing.

Part of me thinks it's a great idea, part of me thinks it's a horrible idea.

Regardless, before this morning, I used to try and talk to the kids, and I could never figure out why they wouldn't talk to me. Now, I just feel like a bit of a chump :-)

Anyway, I'm just gearing up for the marathon this Sunday, so I've been lying low, watching TV, getting to bed early, and well, that's about all.

I've been watching Breaking Bad. Be careful, it's addictive!


Tomorrow, a bunch of people are coming to my house for Thanksgiving...we're eating pizza. Details to follow!

On Newness and An Old Familiar Rhythm

I reap great enjoyment from trying new activities and going to new places, and I reap great enjoyment from doing things that are part of my good ol' familiar rhythm. In Denver, I had gotten stuck into only doing things that feel into part of my normal routine. I had lost balance between the same and the new. It takes more energy to seek out the new than it does to walk down the path of the familiar, and sometimes, at the end of a busy work week, all I wanted to do was head up to my condo in the mountains and ski. Without a single complaint, I can report that I skied and biked a ton of days last year. However, I did just that: skied and biked a ton of day. Where was the newness? There was none.

As I am always striving to better myself, a new part of my effort will be to remind myself that although it takes energy to seek out newness, the input is always almost less than the benefits that are output, and thus even though at the end of a busy week I understandably tend to do the same old same old, I need to muster up a little more energy to seek out the new and in doing so ensure that I don't let a place become stale or uninteresting.

In the future, I'll continue to do the things I love, but I'll seek out new places to ski, new routes to bike, and in doing so keep my surroundings fresh and exciting.

I am coming to realize the sense of staleness I felt in Denver, in largess, was due to my lack of seeking out the new.

Filler

Paragliding

I don't have much to say this week.

In a nutshell, I went paragliding last weekend. It was SUPER fun, and I'm now completely convinced that I eventually want to learn how to fly solo.

Last Sunday I ran 15-miles, and to that end, I'm running a marathon on November 27th. I'm really excited to run the race, and I'm really excited to take the month of December off from marathon-training and just go back to working out for sake of the enjoyment it provides me.

I'm in the process of figuring out what I am going to do for winter break. I'd love to come back state-side, but I'm trying to save some money, and though it'd be a true joy to visit both Denver and Boston, I think using my time off to come back to the states would prove to be anything BUT restful.

I found a small Asian-grocery store in my town. I know you're probably thinking, "Aren't all the grocery stores there Asian?" but they don't have the type of stuff I'm looking for, i.e. Thai and Indian spices, etc.

Eh, I guess that's all for now. If this came off as quite bland and uneventful, that's quite reflective of how this past week has been. Like I said earlier, I'm quite excited to run the marathon on the 27th, and then not have to devote so much physical and mental energy to that goal.

Chigae (again)

So, I just had some more chigae. Where as before last week I was only eating chigae from the equivalent of Korean fast food joints, I am now eating chigae from those same places but also a new little find right across from my house. I believe I wrote about the place before, so to quickly recap, there is this restaurant literally 20 feet from my house and the food there is TO DIE FOR.

Tonight I made the arduous journey over to the restaurant, ordered my usual, kimchi chigae. Being the only one in the restaurant, I figured I'd seize the moment and try to ask the chef (an approximately 50-60 year old woman who is insisting I call her "Mom") to watch her cook my favorite dish. At first I didn't think she understood what I was asking, so just sat back down at the table, but minutes later, she brought out all of the chigae ingredients to my table and using the burner that is in the middle of the table, cooked the chigae right in front of me. It was great!

Here's the recipe.

1. Get some good ol' stinky kimchi (the older/more fermented the better)
2. Add about 1 cup of kimchi, and about 1 cup of hot water to a pot and bring the whole mixture to a boil.
3. Once boiling, add about 4 ounces of pork. (I'm not sure of the cut, but it looks like thick cut bacon, and it cooks/becomes tender with only a little cooking, so I'm quite certain it's NOT pork shoulder...maybe it's loin, but loin is more lean than this stuff...again, I think something like thick cut bacon (minus the smokey flavor) would be right) Also add about 4 ounces of tofu, 1/4 cup scallions, 1/4 cup roughly chopped onion and about 1 tbsp of minced/pressed garlic.
4. Bring the whole mixture to a boil and let it cook on high for about 5 minutes. Add salt to taste, and voila!

If you're inclined to make the above recipe, keep in mind it serves about 2 people, and DON'T forget, the better the kimchi you start with, the better the chigae.

Anyway, I'm super excited to have received this little cooking lesson. I tried to leave a tip (tipping is not something you do in Korea) for "Mom" but she adamantly refused and then insisted on sending me home with a doggie bag of extra chapche (noodle salad). I'm totally blown away by her hospitality :-)

Sundae and Commitment...I know, a bizarre combination.

To the left is a picture (not one I took) of Sundae. Pronounced soon-day, it is the first food I have encountered here in SoKo that I'd rather not eat. Now, I won't go as far as to say that I don't like it, but I will say that if ever I find myself faced with Sundae and some other option, it is quite likely that I will take the 'other option.'

If you've yet to Google Sundae, than you don't yet know that it is a sausage filled with glass-noodles and pigs blood. Yep, as the sausage cooks, the noodles get saturated in the pigs blood, the blood itself coagulates, and voila, the sausage turns into a semi-solid mass.

An unsuspecting victim, or someone near starving might gobble down quite a bit of this Korean specialty before even thinking to ask about its contents, and admittedly, I ate a couple of bites before asking my co-teacher about what I had just consumed. However, and I'm somewhat embarrassed to write this, as soon as I knew what I was eating, I no longer fancied the dish.

The moral of this story is that mind can conquer matter. Quite simply put, had you told me that Sundae was made of something I considered appetizing, I likely would have eaten the entire dish and asked for more, but the notion of gobbling down loads of coagulated pig-blood sausage, well, just turned my stomach.

So, I'll check that off the list of "strange things I've eaten." I'm still trying to get my paws on some dog (pun intended), and I'll report back on that as soon as I've barked up that tree (pun intended again).

Also, and this next piece is totally unrelated to the above post, I've come to discover a pet-peeve I didn't realize I had: Flakiness. I'm not talking about the type that comes from filo dough, or the white ones that come from a dandruff ridden scalp, I'm talking about flakiness in people.

I think it is of the utmost importance to "say what you mean and mean what you say." And yes, I know that is super cliche, but it's also super important. I try to be a person of my word. If I say something, I do it. If I don't think I can do something, I don't say it, or at the very least, I'll always tend to under-promise and over perform.

In any case, I think being good to your word is the first way to communicate to the world that you are a dependable, trustworthy, mature, even-keeled, well put together person, and as simple as it may sound, I sometimes have to put in a concerted effort to not be a flake. Commitment, in any form, be it in a romantic relationship or friendship, be it about agreeing to meet your friend at a coffee shop, or be it about agreeing to take a hike, is something that takes work. By definition, actually DOING what you say you are going to do requires energy. Heck, doing anything requires energy. But, what I've discovered from trying to live by my own advice and doing what I say I'm going to do (and believe me, I have definitely broken some of my commitments before), is that it makes me happier, it makes me more confident in myself, and I think people around me pick up on that vibe too.

I didn't have a particular point to make but rather the desire to just express that thought. And now come to think of it, maybe this is the point. There's no to commit to anything to which you don't think you can come good on. The trick is knowing before you commit to saying something, and thus feeling obliged to follow through with action, your own personal boundaries and will to do the thing to which you have just verbally committed. Or, in more simple terms, you don't have to commit to anything you don't want to do.

I firmly believe that. And here might be the larger point. I think life is WAAAAAYYYYY too short to live for the next moment. I think life is way to short to commit to something that you detest right now with the hope of enjoying yourself later, and I'm not trying to argue against deferred gratification. In fact, I believe strongly in the notion that oftentimes enjoyable things come after some of the upfront "grunt work." But, I also believe that enjoyable things can also come after some upfront work that does not seem like "grunt work" and which is enjoyable in and of itself. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, I don't necessarily believe in the notion of "no pain, no gain." I think often times you can gain even more if along the journey you aren't in pain.

To try to tie this all up for your sake (and frankly, for my own), I think it is extremely important to realize that it is not necessary to commit to things that you do not enjoy. Avoiding such commitments will allow you to engage in activities and experiences that lead you down the road to more enjoyable experiences, and additionally will have given you a great ride along the way.

And I think the big realization I'm having is this. You are the only one who can decided to what particular path you are going to explore. Again, the trick is knowing before you commit to saying something, and thus feeling obliged to follow through with action, your own personal boundaries and will to do the thing to which you have just committed.

Completely distilled: Discover what you love, and commit to doing what you love. If you commit to things you love doing, it is easy to keep your word.

Snitches Get Stiches And End Up In Ditches

When during my first year at The Contemporary Learning Academy (CLA), the school at which I taught in Denver, I asked a student to identify who had thrown a paper ball across the room, he said to me, "Mister, snitches get stitches and end up in ditches." And if you've yet to figure out what that means, in other terms it means, if you tattle-tale on someone, you stand to get beat up or hurt in some way.

That was the ethic amongst the students (or most of them) at CLA. From affairs at school, to affairs in the streets of their neighborhoods, most of my students staunchly believed that 'snitching' was taboo. In practical terms, it meant that most of my students handled almost all situations without consulting any formal authority figure such as a teacher or a police officer. Sometimes, I'd hear about one kid getting jumped by a gang of other kids, and though had I been the one who was jumped, I would have immediately thought to call the police, that thought would have been one of the last for most of my students. So, to recap, at CLA snitching was taboo. Period.

Fast forward to today. In my classes, I often play instructional games with my students in order to facilitate them practicing the key phrases for the day. Often time I award the winning team with candy, or penalize the losing team by requiring them to clean my room for two-minutes after class. Today, I was not giving out any candy which meant that the losing team had to clean the room for two minutes.

As class came to an end, it became clear that team one had lost by quite a few points, so I excused team two and three, and asked team one to hang around and clean the room for two minutes.

Team two and three shuffled out of the room, and team one came rushing towards my desk. Exasperatedly, about five students, in the best English they could muster were trying to tell me something that seemed extremely urgent. For about 30-seconds, I could not figure out what they were saying. And then it hit me. They were telling me that two of the students from team one sneaked out of the room with team two and three. More over, the remaining members of team one went as far as to write done the full names of the two who had left, and they told me the name of their homeroom teacher.

I was totally taken aback. Not only had about five kids come forward to tell me about the two students who had left, but they had NO hesitation in doing so. Their ethic seemed to be one that openly acknowledged a wrong had been committed, and knowing they were on the "right side of the law" decided to come forward and point out the situation.

There are tons of thoughts in my mind as to why students at CLA are extremely unwilling to tattle-tale whereas my students at Samnam have no hesitation, but since I'm off to dinner, I'll have to get back to that later.

In short, I think my CLA students unwillingness is related to most of them being raised in a culture where they held minority status, where at least in part due to that fact, were socialized to distrust authority figures in general, and moreover have come from a history of oppression and subjugation from the dominant class. Though I do not yet know my Samnam students as deeply, I can at least say that here in racially homogenous South Korea, I'm sure many of my students are coming from a VERY VERY different place.

More on this later...Now it's time for some Chigae.

Chigae

Chigae is the word for "stew" in Korean. It is pronounced /chee-gay/. In any case, chigae is my go-to food when I'm not sure what else is on the menu, and I'd say that just about 9 out of 10 restaurants either have chigae on the menu or will make it even if it is not. In fact, I so regularly eat chigae, that my friend Eric has nicknamed me chigae. We'll see if the name sticks. Anyway, just last night I went to a small restaurant located 20 feet from my doorstep, and guess what I ordered?

Well, surprise surprise, I wanted Chamchi Chigae (or tuna stew), but they only had Gimchi Chigae (fermented cabbage and pork stew). So, I got the gimchi variety. Well, not only was the chigae the best I've had in Korea thus far (who knew this little hidden gem was right across from my house), but the waitress, a woman who looked as though she were in her late 40's or early 50's, brought me an overwhelming amount of side dishes. Now, banchan (the Korean word for side-dishes) are usually part of any Korean meal, and it's expected that for a single person dining out three or four different sides (all typically vegetarian) are brought to the table. Well, last night, the woman brought me about 12 different side dishes, as well as a second soup and fried pancake both of which I did not order. As she was virtually smothering me in food, she was also, from what my poor Korean skills could tell me, insisting that I call her "Mom." So, I guess you could say that I now have a Korean Mom. I think she was also trying to tell me that she wanted to make me her "fat baby" because those were the only words of English that she apparently had. Maybe she was just calling me fat. Regardless, about 45 minutes later, not seemingly even dented the food before me, I was incredibly full, and ready to leave. So, I got up, asked for the bill, and was totally taken aback by the fact that the entire meal cost a mere W6,000 (6,000 won) or as of 11/1/11 $5.38. Hot damn. In the words of my Poppa, I had just eaten at a total "find." I'll be back soon, but this next time, I'll make sure to first skip lunch.

A Twirling Marvel

Busan Firework Festival

Nate and I just arrived back in Ulsan after a raucous weekend in Busan during which we saw the Busan fireworks festival, celebrated Halloween, and pre-celebrated Danielle's birthday. Quite tired and hungry, we headed to a small noodle restaurant in the Ulsan University area. But first, a bit about the weekend.

The annual firework festival draws a croud in the thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, and is located on Gwaghali Beach in Busan. Similar to New Years in Times Square in New York, we reserved our spot on the beach around 2PM even though the fireworks did not start until 8PM, and I'm glad we got there so early. To cut right to the chase, as the beach got more and more filled with people, the night began to set in, and as the night began to set in, unfortunately, so did some rain clouds, and about 30 minutes into the show, I, as well as the rest of the group I was with, decided to hustle our chilled and sand-covered selves to the nearest place of refuge which just so happened to be a fried chicken shop called "The Frypan." Wearing my Halloween costume, or rather, the costume my friends bought me and the one with which they surprised me (a polar bear hat, a pink fuzzy tiara, an adult sized diaper and pacifier, and a magic wand), soaking wet, covered head to toe in sand, quite buzzed from our libations, and not having eaten in hours, the approximately 8 of us polished off 4 or 5 platters of fried chicken, and probably left an equivalent or greater amount of weight in sand on the floor of the restaurant. At the end of the whole ordeal, my costume diaper was too soggy to stay on any longer (thankfully I was wearing shorts underneath), so I excused myself to the restroom, tore off the diaper, returned to the table at which point everyone was splitting the bill, and a few minutes later was again walking in the rain, but this time, we were headed to the subway station and eventually to some bars to continue to celebrate Halloween and Danielle's birthday. At the last minute I decided to detour to my hotel in order to change before going to the bars. However, my detour turned into me feeling too cozy in my warm dry clothes and thus, I did not make it to any more bars.

The next morning, and keep in mind this is all hearsay to me, I was told that a person (who shall remain unnamed) was apparently streaking down the main street where all the bars were located. Though there are apparently pictures, I've yet to see them, and frankly, I don't want to.

In any case, a couple of the bar goers had put their bags in a locker in a subway station during the previous night, and now, quite hung over and tired were beginning the task of retracing their steps in order to find their bags. Though at first I decided to tag along on the journey (it reminded me of the movie "Dude, Where's My Car, or the more recent "Hangover #1"), at the last minute Nate and I decided to head home, and once arriving in Ulsan decided to get a bite at a small noodle restaurant.

As we were sitting at the table waiting for our food, the girls next to us received their dishes first. One had ordered some sort of fried pork cutlet, and the other, to our great surprise, ordered spaghetti with cheese and sauce. You see, noodles are quite common here, but I'm talking about Udon, or Ramen, or anything but spaghetti, so the heaping pile of spaghetti coated in red sauce and heaping with melted cheese caught both of our attention. More over, when the girl reached for a FORK and began to TWIRL it in the pile, both of our jaws hit the ground. And just as we were about to drool, the girl gave both of us a glance as to say "What, you've never seen a Korean use a fork?" and we realized that we were both rudely staring. On second thought, maybe we weren't rudely staring, but rather were just staring in the same way so many Koreans stare at us when we use chopsticks. Either way, Nate and I instantly realized the comic value of what had just happened, somewhat embarrassed stopped staring at the girl, and resume our conversation.

I guess two things struck me about the whole crazy weekend. First, when I was on the beach in Busan watching the fireworks, though by my American standards my personal-bubble had been popped about 50 times over, I didn't at all mind, and two, when I was back in Ulsan at the noodle restaurant, I caught myself marveling at a girl twirling spaghetti on a fork. The reason I mention these two seemingly insignificant parts of my weekend is because in retrospect, I think they are quite significant. They are significant because they are proof positive that my perspective is changing. They are proof that my sense of tolerable and intolerable, that my sense of normal and abnormal are shifting and changing and causing my entire orientation to the world to be different.

I've been in South Korea for just about 2.5 months at this point, and if you asked me, before I took this moment to write this post, "Seth, do you think you have changed at all by being in South Korea" I would have likely answered in the negative. However, I'm coming to realize that the changes I have already experienced and the ones I anticipate I will experience may not be as fundamental and drastic as I had imagined they would be, but rather, I think they will be more subtle, more mild, more likely to go completely unnoticed unless I take the time to introspect. So, what does this all mean? I don't know quite yet. I'll have to think about it for a while, and I suspect that I might not even realize all the subtle changes until I am back home and thus in a situation which may more starkly highlight such changes.

Hmmm...now I've got myself thinking. I wonder what other changes have taken place that are quite unnoticeable here in Korea but would be quite obvious back home.

Who knows, I think only time, and maybe the folks I interact with back home will be able to tell.

An Efficient Medical System? Must Be a Dream...

Yesterday, I had my first experience with the Korean medical system. In short, I have a little sinus infection, so nothing to serious (don't worry Mom ;-)), but just as the length of this post is pretty short, so too was my experience at the hospital, because to cut right to the chase, the medical systeme here is quite efficient.

So, I walked into a hospital. Doctors all work in hospitals, and private practices are very rare. Once you check in at the front desk they process your NATIONAL HEALTH INSURANCE card, and then escort you to the appropriate specialist. In my case, that was the Otolaryngologist. After waiting less than 5 minutes, the doctor brought me into his office, asked me about my symptoms, asked me if I had ever had similar symptoms and if so the diagnosis. I told him, it felt like a sinus infection and that I've had them before. I also told him I've been swimming quite a bit, getting quite a bit of water in my ears, etc, and that I was pretty certain that it was a sinus infection. To my surprise, he was very receptive to my self-diagnosis, and told me that it sounded like a sinus infection but that he should double check to make sure. So, he looked in my nose, ears and throat, and two minutes later agreed with me, wrote me a prescription, and then he sent me on my way. All said and done, I met with him for about 10 minutes. Then came the accounting department and my bill. As I'm used to the astronomical cost of health care services in the U.S., I was prepared to pay at least $50 for my visit, but when the bill came to only $5, I was blown away. So, I payed the woman behind the counter, took my prescription to get filled at a nearby drug store, and was done. By the way, the 4 medicines the doctor gave me all of which I have to take three times a day for the next 5 days cost $8. Come on America, get your act together.

And, aside from how amazingly affordable the experience was, I was also amazed at how much trust and value the doctor put in my self-diagnosis. Surely if his examination should many contraindications to my claims he would not have agreed w/ me, but at least he used my own feelings as a jumping off point for his examination. Back in the States, every time I go to the doctor I feel as though I tell the doctor my symptoms and then she/he basically has the attitude of "well let me check you out and see if what you are telling me is true." Hmmm...on paper I guess the two scenarios don't sound too different, but being in his office and feeling how much respect and consideration he gave my self-diagnosis, it was definitely different than home.

And just to play the devils advocate, maybe this doctor who gave so much creedenc to my self-diagnosis was only able to do so in the context of SoKo where illicit drug use is almost non-existant and where (at least as far as I've seen) drug abuse is minimal too. And...surely had I gone into the hospital complaing of pain wanting some super strong pain killers, I'm sure the doctor would have been a bit more skeptical too, but regardless, I felt respected, acknowledged, and valued as a patient in a way that I've never felt before.

So, that's it. If you get sick here, aparently, to get the medical care you require, you don't need much time or money, and when you meet with the doctor, you likely won't feel as though your self-diagnosis is worthless in comparison to the doctors years of medical school, but rather that your self-diagnosis is yet another piece of the puzzle which the doctor uses to piece together and answer to the question of, what's wrong with this patient.

That's all for now.

Oh, wait, one more thing. They have a brownie mix here in SoKo that you basically cook in the microwave. So, after taking maybe a minute or two to add water to the dry ingredients and then mix them into a smooth batter and then microwaving them for another 3 minutes, you can have fresh-baked, no wati, fresh-microwaved brownies (which taste FANTISTIC) in 5 minutes all said and done. Again, America, what's the deal? Not only does SoKo have a more efficient medical system, but they have a more efficient way of making brownies that taste just as good as the ones back home.

Aight, that's all for now.

No more America bashing, I really do love (and miss) the states ;-)

On Haeinsa (1000 years of history) and Spontaneity

Haeinsa

Last Saturday, Daniella, Nate and I finally arrived to Heinsa after a three hour bus-train-metro-bus journey. Stretching our stiff legs, we shuffled off the bus into the refreshingly cool crisp fall air and we were immediately greeted not only by hoards of Korean tourists, but also by beautiful mountains whispily-dabbled with misty clouds and blanked in tangerine orange, fire red, and sunshine yellow foliage. Fall has arrived here in Korea, and being one of my favorite seasons as well as the one that most reminds me of my family and childhood in New England, I am trying to soak it up as much as possible.

Heinsa is celebrating it's 1000 year anniversary this year, thus the crowds of Koreans. However, as a UNESCO World Heritage site, it's quite understandable. In short, Heinsa houses the Trippitaka Korana, a set of 80,000 hand-carved wood blocks on which spell out the entire Mahayana Buddhist canon. Over 1000 years ago when King _____ (I can't remember his name) commissioned their creation, that request essentially unified the Buddhist religion here in Korea, thus the are not only a quite impressive piece of history, but as they have survived in perfect condition over the past 1000 years, they as well as their storage facility are also an impressive feat of engineering. To say the least, in spite of the long journey, I found Heinsa quite fascinating.

After seeing the wood blocks, of which we were not allowed to take pictures but of which I snuck one picture, we headed back to the bus terminal, bought our tickets, waited about 20 minutes for the bus, and while we were waiting, met a group of mentally and physically disabled Korean people. More specifically, we were standing next to a deaf man and women as well as their two children who could hear and who could also speak basic English. The kids taught us how to say “Hello” in Korean. It was pretty cool to think about the universality of sign language. In any case, their bus arrived first, so we said goodbye since they did not teach us how to sign goodbye, and a few minutes later our own bus arrived.

In characteristic Korean fashion, once the bus arrived, I was moderately pushing in getting onto the bus, and just as I go on the bus, the woman who had pushed her way in front of me and Nate turns around and says, “You were quite pushy.” I was taken aback , but just let it slide because I was happy to be on the bus. Though, once I realized that there was only standing room and an hour and a half journey in front of me, I was, to say the least, not super happy, but I guess that’s the Korean bus system. To pass the time, I began to talk to Daniella and Nate, and about five minutes into our conversation, a middle aged Korean man turned to us and said “Please be silent.” At this point, I was tired from the day’s travel, a bit unhappy about having been pushed and then reprimanded for pushing and on top of it all having to stand on a bus for an hour and a half, so I almost go mouthy, but at the last second just decided to let it go, pulled out my Kindle and tried to read. An hour and a half later, we arrived back at the metro station, took the metro to the train, the train to the bus, and finally retired for the night in a DVD room (a for-rent room where you can sit on a nice couch and watch a movie).

In retrospect of this past weekend, I am coming to realize that my journey to Heinsa was not just significant because of the historical site I got to see, but also because, I did not hesitate to travel for three hours to a place which I have never been, using a public transportation system that is almost entirely in Korean, in a country that even now at two-ish months in, still feels pretty foreign. I guess what I’m saying, is that I’m giving myself some kudos for simply traveling so far with so little hesitation. In a large sense, I’ve overcome the discomfort of getting on busses/trains/metros and not entirely knowing where I’ll end up. It’s still a bit unnerving, but whereas when I first got here I was much more hesitant, now I am hardly at all.

I’ve come to realize that with that lack of hesitancy comes possibilities of endless dimensions. Of course each time I get on a bus or train or metro, one of the possibilities is that I reach my intended destination, but another one of the possibilities is that I end up somewhere completely unplanned, and in that second possibility lives spontaneity. I’m coming to realize that spontaneity is not something that just occurs but is something that you have to allow to occur, and to allow it to occur I’m coming to realize that all you have to do is let go of control if only for even a little while. I find that lack of control, or at least most control, to be on par with reaching the crest of a roller coaster right before the big drop. At that moment, though I’m full of excitement and anticipation and a bit of nervousness, I know that in the end, everything will be fine because I trust the roller coaster.

I guess what I am trying to say is that when I get on the bus without 100% control and understanding of where I’ll end up, I’m fine with that feeling of the unknown because I’m coming to trust myself here in Korea in a way that I’ve only had glimpses of before. I’m beginning to trust myself because, in almost purely out of necessity, I’m beginning to trust other people to a greater extent than I have ever before. My mantra here has essentially become that in the “worst case, we can just ask someone for help.” Had I not come to SoKo and been put into countless situations where I only have the capabilities of an infant, I’m not sure I would have learned the virtue and experienced firsthand the benefit of having to rely so heavily on others. It’s a nice feeling because it’s allowing me to let go of the reins so to speak, experience the ensuing spontaneity, and all the while know that things will end up okay.

I’m headed to the Busan Fireworks Festival this weekend. Details and pictures will follow :-)

And to anyone reading this, I miss you deeply, and I hope you are happy and well!

Do What Ya Wanna Do

Tongdosa and the Flogger

Put quite simply, do what ya wanna do. I think at times it is easy to focus solely on the expectations of others and in doing so lose track of the expectations to which you hold yourself. However, I believe, and I should add quite humbly believe, that meeting your own expectations is one of the most important and vital skills in life. Living to make others happy without first knowing your own requisites for happiness is an artificial existence and one which I can only imagine will lend to mediocrity in all regards.

Learn about yourself.

Learn about what you need to feel happy and fulfilled.

Learn how to blaze your own path without necessarily "reinventing the wheel," and I think, because I don't believe I've entirely done this quiet yet, that this will lead you to a live of happiness.

I know that was kind of random, but I wanted to include that thought.

Feeling the Rhythm of South Korea

So, the title of this post has both literal and figurative value.


Literally, I went to the Ulsan International Music Festival (UIMF) the weekend of October 8th and 9th. Though I don't have too much to write about, I will say that it was a totally free event in downtown Ulsan, and the music was great. Too many times I've been to a free concert during which the first two excruciating seconds gave me complete insight as to why the concert was FREE. However, the UIMF was a far cry from excruciating, and in fact was extremely entertaining.


Figuratively, I'm feeling the rhythm of Korea in the sense that SOME of the day to day activities that a mere two months ago felt extremely novel, no longer have the same appeal. For example, no longer does going to the grocery store or the open-air market or even walking down the street feel like an adventure, and frankly I'm really glad to be at this point. I can imagine that if the novelty of the everyday motions did not eventually wear off and thus so to the feeling of over-stimulation, that life here would be, well, quite overwhelming.

I am also in the rhythm of SoKo in that I have a couple friend groups with whom I meet and hang out with on a regular basis. In Ulsan live most of my orientation friends, and in Eonyong, my hometown, I've made yet another crew of friends. Typically speaking, I see the Ulsan people on the weekends, and I see the Eonyong people during the week. In fact, for the past 6 or 7 weeks running, my Eonyong-Crew (as I call them) and I have met for "family dinners." We just go to a cheap little Kimbap (Korean sushi) and Chigae (Korean stew) place, but the point is that it's become somewhat of a regular activity.

And though I have found a great rhythm over here, there are the occasional unexpected beats that add so much uniqueness to my life over here. One of those beats happened last weekend, (10/15/11) when Daniella and I visited Tongdosa (Tongdo Temple). To make a LOOOOOONG story short, in an unplanned twist of fate, we ended up meeting one of our Korean friends at Tongdosa. Heidi is her English name. Heidi is very friendly with a couple monks at this Buddhist temple because she is a practicing Buddhist.

Heidi skipped us right by the main temple and took us to two "branch" temples. On the way to the first, Heidi was ranting and raving about how excited she was to show us the "Flogger." Daniella and I could not figure out what she was talking about. Heidi tried to further explain that the Flogger is gold and is about 2cm long. Still, we had no clue. Heidi explained that the Flogger lived in a rock. At this point, Daniella and I just kind of nodded to make it seem like we understood, but we still had no clue. We finally arrived to the much talked about temple, and as Heidi said, people were peering into a small hole in a large rock. "That is the Floggers home" she told us. So, we waited in line, stepped up on to the little stepping stone and peered in. Nothing. We both saw nothing. Somewhat deflated, we walked away from the rock and around another corner at which point Heidi was almost jumping up and down with excitement pointing to a big picture of a GOLD FROG exclaiming, "This is the Flogger." Go figure. Apparently, there is a little auspicious frog that lives in the rock and if it shows itself, it is considered good luck.

Next, Heidi took Daniella and I to another temple and introduced us to one of the monks, and before he even asked our names, he asked us to sit and drink tea, and then for the next 45 minutes, he barraged us with deep philosophical questions such as "what is happiness" "what is the mind" "where is the mind." All the while, Heidi, who really does have great English skills was trying to translate. After out conversation ended, he invited us to eat dinner at the monastery. After a delicious (vegan) meal, Heidi drove Daniella and I back to the bus station. On the way to the bus station we asked Heidi if the monk usually talks about such deep topics, and she said he had never done so before. At that, we all just looked at each other and cracked up.

The oddest part of the day for me was this: Heidi, who was able to quite perfectly translate the philosophical conversation for 45 minutes, could not pronounce the word "frog." Gotta love good ol' south Korea.

Last but not least, last Sunday (10/16/11) Daniella, Virginia Jess and I went paragliding. Rather, Daniella and Virginia went, but by the time Jess I and were up, the wind was dangerous, so once I go, I'll write about it. For some pics of Daniella and Virginia going, check out my Facebook or the Mr. Lee's Ulsan Paragliding School Website (http://www.ulsanpara.co.kr/rgboard/view.php?bbs_id=bbs_c&doc_num=1796).

Travel Guide and Perspective

I finally got around to getting a travel book for South Korea.

And...If you've been reading my blog thus far, you are well aware of my ranting and raving about living in "such beautiful mountains" and how I feel like Eonyong is the "Boulder, Colorado of SoKo" blah, blah, blah!

Well, as it turns out, according to my travel book, the area in which I live is called the "Yeongnam Alps."

Go figure :-)

Getting into a Groove

Gyeongju

Mount Top Concert at Conwolche

I didn't blog about the above two events, but they both happened BEFORE the I wrote the text below.

So, I find myself less and less often sitting down and keeping up w/ the good ol' blog. However, I am still trying to make myself write at least one time per week. I think in a way, this blog has been my security blanket for home in the U.S. And...as I feel more and more at home in SoKo, I think I am letting go of this blog a little more each day. Regardless, I'm still committing to at least one entry per week!

In any case, here's where I'm at. This next section (in part) is taken from an e-mail I wrote to a friend.

I'm still marveling over things that back home would seem completely trivial. For example, yesterday I joined a gym and worked out (in a formal setting) for the first time since I arrived. I guess the language barrier makes even the smallest/most mundane accomplishments a pretty big deal.

Also, I'm beginning to cook some Korean food. For the first month being here I ate super simply, but I am now trying to put in more effort to making good food.

I'm also training for a marathon. I'm not going to enter into any formal race, but I am going to run 26.2ish miles around the first of December. The running has really become a great source of joy and release for me, and I look forward to it all the time.

And because my mind is jumping from topic to topic at this point...

I've been doing a lot of thinking recently about how I live back in the U.S., so here are some of my thoughts.

1. Why don't I carry my camera w/ me when I'm back home? Doesn't a camera "legitimize" a place as being particularly noteworthy? And what's to say that Denver is not?

2. Why don't I have a travel guide for Denver? I'm coming to realize that there is TONS of stuff right in my own back yard that I have yet to see/experience?

3. Why is it that being in a foreign country makes me feel more spontaneous/open to adventure being at home? Is it a matter of place, or is it a matter of mindset? (I think it's a 20/80 split respectively)

And here's some more mental vomit. I think the reason I'm so much more focused, career-oriented, less-spontaneous, more planned, more in the box, etc. back home in the States, is because I see everything in the states "mattering" in my "big life picture." I guess back home, I'm afraid to make a mis-step if you will. Back home I felt the need to make everything count. I guess in short, I was super focused on making sure that all of my actions somehow contributed to my career. For some reason, though being here in SoKo is contributing to my career, being here in SoKo feels tangential to my "at home" life, and thus it gives me the willingness to just follow my heart, do what I want to do, not worry about the big picture. It's almost like, the time here "doesn't count" in my "big picture" event though quite obviously EVERYTHING I do in life counts towards that end.

I guess my big take away is this. I'm feeling more spontaneous and less concerned about my "career" in the big picture sense because I am happy doing what I am doing. And surely I can have these same feeling back home, right? I think so. All I have to do is make sure I'm doing what I want to do.

So, when I get home (eventually), though I don't know specifically what I am going to do, I am going to choose something based on the same criteria I used to come to SoKo, and quite simply, that means I have to do something that excites me, intrigues me, and makes me feel a sense of newness and adventure. On top of it, back home I'm going to begin carrying my camera around a lot more (thanks mom for getting me that great little war-proof sony...I use it ALL the time), and I'm also getting a travel book for Denver.

I feel like life is too short to constantly be worrying about the big picture. I think life is like one of those dotist paintings. You know, the paintings that are made up of 1000's of tiny dots. I think if I just zoom way out to see the larger picture, I can miss the nuance of each and every dot. And, I also think that if I spend too much time only zooming in, I can get overwhelmed or burdened by some of the dots that have unattractive colors. So, I guess what I'm getting at is that I think it is all about balance. And I don't mean balance in the 50/50 sense, but balance in the sense of making sure I achieve the right amounts of both the zoomed in mindset and the zoomed out one. For me, I think it's about 80/20 zoomed in to zoomed out. I think as long as I'm enjoying what I'm doing right NOW, the sum total of my life experience, or the sum total of the dot painting will be one of pure joy and beauty.

So, to recap, I'm learning to focus more and more on the now, to be less concerned w/ the large picture (while still keeping so sense of it's formation), and overall just trying to continually engage in things that make me happy, excite me, intrigue me, and make me feel a sense of newness and adventure.

The more people I meet, the more I realize that day-to-day personal happiness is quite an accomplishment, and I'm also realizing that if I can't even accomplish that seemingly simple task, I'll have little to no chance of ever doing anything for others.

So, the conclusion I've reached just now, though being the same as countless other folks in the past, feels pretty new. I need to be happy with my own day-to-day personal existence BEFORE I can worry about the big picture, because again, the happier I am with the day to day, the less I have to worry about the big picture as it will necessarily and automatically be forming into one of happiness. In simpler terms, many many happy days all add up to a happy life.

Boo yah. That's it.

Brain barf: DONE

Costco

Hyundae Beach in Busan

I spent this past weekend in Busan. It's a beautiful beach town, and after soaking up some rays all day Saturday and half of the day on Sunday, Danielle, Brian and I all decided to venture to Costco. Yes, there are two Costcos here in SoKo. One is near Seoul, and the other is right in Busan. Brian has a membership, so he was kind enough to let Danielle and I tag along.

As we jumped out of the taxi at the store front, that old familiar pre-bulk-shoping feeling whooshed over all of us, and we were off to what turned into a 2-hour consumer extravaganza. From the seemingly endless Costco style samples, to the massive packages of EVERYTHING (including many Western products) we all felt right at home. I stocked up mostly on vitamins, protein powder, emergency-C and peanut butter. I also bought some cheap bulk candy to use as prizes in my class.

After dawdling up and down every aisle, we headed to the checkout line, rung up all of our $400 worth of items, temporarily split the bill evenly, and headed to the food court where we were going to have lunch and figure out exactly how much each person owed. We finally found a table, sat down with the receipt, and realized that the entire foot and a half long paper trail was ALL in KOREAN.

To make a long story short, we spent nearly 40 minutes trying to figure out the identity of each item on the receipt and thus which person owed what monies. We used everything from a Korean-English dictionary on a persons iPhone to the item numbers located on each item, to just plain guessing in a few cases, but we were eventually successful, and then chowed down on foot long hot dogs and cheap raspberry Sundays. So buyers beware. When you group-shop at Costco in Busan, sub-total bill after each person or get ready for a crash course in how to read/understand Korean.

Cows at Night

Night settles in the country side like a threadbare security blanket nestles comfortingly next to a sleeping child. As the swaths of rice patties, the orchards of apples and pears, the rows of lettuce and ever ripening garlic outside of Eonyong are blanked by nighttime, they are shrouded in a comforting sense. They are not smothered in a terror such as the entities of the city are when night rolls around. I know this because I've been doing a lot of night time running in the country side, and as I head out of Eonyong and the woosh of traffic turns into the sound of tractors on dirt roads, and as the smell of BBQ and fast food turns into wood burning stoves, and as the hustle and bustle that exists even in the small W. Ulsan suburb turns into crickets chirping, and as the sun sinks farther and farther below the horizon, I too an covered in the night time, and in those moments, I feel great comfort and peace. There is a magical joy that swirls around the countryside at night, and tonight, I got a special dose.

As I was heading back on my loop, I noticed a farmer a ways down the road running in the same direction. I picked up my pace to see what was going on, and as I neared him, he suddenly spun around and started running towards me. A second later, a massive cow came around a corner, so I too began to run in the opposite direction. As I looked back at the cow, the headlight I was wearing must have scared the cow, so it turned away from us, and the farmer gave me a quick glance almost as to say "Thank you." I marvel in those moments. Those are the spontaneous unexpected, random, natural, substance free moments that I believe are common in the country side, of which I only get glimpses of as I run. However, I am drawn to the more rural side of things, and through my life I have gravitated to the more rusticated, more pastoral, more wild lifescapes, and in this trend, I have discovered that my happiness is directly proportional to my proximity to nature.

One Month

Today marks one month since I arrived in SoKo. Not only did my buddy Dylan and I hike the highest mountain in Ulsan, Mt. Gaji (Gajisan), but I also got my first haircut.

In short, the hike took 4 hours of non-stop hiking (look at the pictures on Facebook...I'll put them up soon), and was not very noteworthy as we were socked in with clouds.

Regarding the haircut...Well, even back home in the states I have a hard time communicating how I would like my hair cut. So, with quite a bit of trepidation I went into one of my local salons and submitted myself to whatever might have happened. I was figuring, an awkward haircut is better than looking shabby, so I tried to communicate that I wanted the same style haircut but just shorter in length, and then I let the man do his work. Frankly, I think got one of the best haircuts I have EVER gotten in my life. It is perfect. And, my hair does this weird little thing on the right side, and this man, without me even asking, cut it in such a way as to take care of that spot.

I am super tired, looking super clean cut, and now I'm going to eat some dinner.

First haircut in Korea...done and done!

Cram

I was in the Hyundai Department Store today with my friend Virginia and Kristy. I was in a rare mood to just bounce around a mall, so I tagged along on their trip to this MASSIVE western style department store in downtown Ulsan. After having "window shopped" our way all the way up 13 escalator accessible floors of this consumer-heaven, we had finally reached the top of the building and needed to head back down. We started to descend using the escalators but almost immediately realized that descending 13 floors via escalator would be a tedious task, so we decided to use the elevator.

We entered the elevator on the 12th floor. The elevator had a 10 person capacity; however, by the time we reached the 6th floor, I was sucking in my gut, trying to not press my sweaty self into the four people around me, and more generally speaking, there were 16 people in the elevator. Suffice to say, the notion of personal space here in Korea is a bit different than what it is in the states. And just in case you have the chance to take the elevator in the Lotte Department Store in Ulsan, more seriously consider the escalator.

Water balloon

Just a quick blip....


So I am right in the middle of my after school lesson today, after school classes are essentially the same as day school, but they are called "after school," when all of a sudden I heard a loud gush of water. To my surprise, one of the students had been playing with a water balloon. To my even greater surprise, it popped in his lap (guess that's what you get for having a water balloon in school), and the boys face immediately displayed a look of "please don't hit me." Now, I don't hit kids, but in this case, I just back-handed him.


SIKE!!! I have never and would never hit a student.

Actually, I didn't find it to be a big deal at all, and I think this surprised all of my students. Ultimately, I think my calm reaction won me some points with this class, and after a quick dab with a cloth, the crisis was over.

Throughout my teaching experience both here and in the states, I continually have discovered that you essentially--get what you give. In other words, if you give off an anxious/annoyed/impatient/rude vibe, that is what the kids return, so today, I gave off calm, and in spite of the big trouble the students face told me he was expecting, I just moved on rather unbothered, and I think we were all the better after.

But sheeh, a water balloon in class? Really?

Gotta love SoKo!

Chousok in Seoul

Seoul
More Seoul
Even More Seoul

So, I just spent the past four days in Seoul. By the KTX (Korea Train Express) it took about 2.5 hours, and driving it takes about 4.5 hours. Suffice to say, I forked up the $47 or (47,000 Won) to get there right quick.

In any case, Seoul is a wild place, and I mean that both literally and figuratively. Literally, there are the same number of people in Seoul as there are in Los Angeles, but the are all crammed in to an area about the same size as Chicago. So, with so many people, the city is literally a crazy teaming froth of cars, trains, planes, people, bikes, pets, rivers, neon lights and of course Starbucks, McDonalds, Burger King and bad ol' KFC. Which leads me to the figurative reason Seoul is "crazy."

If all of the businesses signs and all of the street signs were not printed in Korean and I were dropped into the middle of the city blindfolded, as soon as I lifted the blindfold, I would be very hard pressed to determine if I were in New York, L.A., Boston, Bangkok, London, etc. So much of Seoul is just like any old city. In fact, while in Seoul, I didn't feel much of the Korean cultural difference that I feel in Ulsan or my actual town of Eonyong.

And with that said, Seoul is appealing in that it would afford me the opportunity to re-experience my freshman/sophomore year of college in which my primary focus was partying, hooking-up, and trying to figure out the perfect combination of Advil, water and sleep that negates a hang over, but then again, I'm not 18 any more, and though for this past weekend most of those old outlets proved still enjoyable, I would not want my time in South Korea to be on par w/ a "Jersey Shore" experience, but rather I want it to be, well, frankly, just what it has been so far: a relatively noticeable plunge into the UNKNOWN.

So, having seen the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone), having done a little bit of partying in Seoul, trekking along part of the Seoul Wall (a wall that surrounds the whole city), visiting King Sejong's palace, and countless other Seoul-esq things, I must say, it is really really really nice to be back in Eonyong, forced again to use my broken Korean, not able to simply rely on my crutch that is English, and again feeling myself growing and learning in a way that I don't think would be possible in an ultra globalized city such as Seoul.

And before I go, just a quick story about my trek along the Seoul Wall.

Let this be a long story made short.

So, Nate and I, the only other guy that was on this past weekend trip, decided that a shopping trip in Itaywon (Ee-Tay-Won) was not our cup of tea (Nate is British, so that tea pun was intended), and instead decided to wander around the city and see what we could get ourselves into. Surrounding Seoul are some amazing mountains, so naturally, I wanted to walk up one. So, Nate and I stared out in the general direction that seemed to take us upwards, and 40 minutes later, sweat drenched shirts and swam asses like you would not believe, we neared the top of what we initially thought would be a small little hill. Well, the view was fantastic and gave is quite a perspective on what 10 million people in the are of Chicago means, but we wanted to still walk higher. Little did we know, we were nearing the star of the Seoul Wall trail. Perfect. We hoped on the trail, walked for a while, and eventually reached a section of the wall that is still used as part of SoKo's military defense scheme. We could have taken a tour, but neither of us had our passports, so we were not allowed to sign up for the tour.

By now we were both pretty tired, totally soaked in sweat, stinking like something dead and rotten, and hungry enough to snack on our toenails, but don't forget, we were essentially in the middle of the forest. Now, this is an urban forest, so off in the distance Nate spotted what seemed to be a restaurant, and we both decided to head for the food.

Well, there wasn't exactly a trail to the restaurant, so we ended up having to jump over two barb wired fences, follow one dried stream bed, and finally made it to what we thought was a restaurant, yet there was only one small problem. The "restaurant" turned out to be a super Bougie country club, keep in mind, everyone there is dressed to the 9's because it is South Korean Thanksgiving, and here are Nate and I, now not only sweat and stinky, but also muddy and having just crashed through some of the country clubs barbed wire fences. Suffice to say, we were wildly out of place and everyone at the club noticed.

In any case, we asked to look at a menu, and discovering the entrees ranged from $35-$70, we returned the menu and simply asked the hostess about how to get to the place we started our hike. We were not expecting what happened next, but as it turns out, the club has a free bus that went exactly where we wanted to go.

The End.

Seriously, the moral of this story is, if you ever decided to jump a country clubs barb wired fences and show up super nasty at their club restaurant, make sure they have a free bus that will promptly remove your rif-raffy ass from the premises.

Gottal love the spontaneity of living abroad.

Map of My Home

Hey Folks,

The following link will show you a Google map of the coffee shop which is 1-minute from my apartment.

Why the coffee shop you may be wondering? It is the only place I can pick up wi-fi, thus the only place I can use my iTouch to determine my GPS location.

My neighborhood!

Old and New Pillars: Rachel and________ (I'm figuring it out :-)

I just Skyped with Rachel (my sister for those who may not know her), and in an instant the vast majority of my homesickness/longing for American comforts dissolved away. I should qualify that last statement by saying, I'm not feeling super-weepy homesick where I just want to cry and go home, but rather, I am feeling that type of homesickness where I just deeply realize how wonderful my family and friends back home are, and thus how much I am going to miss them over the next year.

And...with THAT said...I can also feel myself on the brink of really just letting go of "back home" to the extent that I now have people and places here in South Korea to which I can grab and use for support. I don't mean 'let go of' in the sense of completely forget about, but I mean 'let go of' to the extent that I free up the mental capacity I need to form meaningful relationships here in SoKo. Fostering positive and meaningful relationships in one location is challenging enough let alone trying to juggle two different lives, one of which is only accessible via electronic means. And I don't want you to read this and think, "Oh great, now I'm not going to hear from Seth anymore," but rather read it as, Seth is getting his roots a little more established in SoKo, and is feeling less of the need to "lean on" the folks back home.

Any now I'm just thinking about my decision to leave the U.S. Was that selfish? I mean, I realize that I am also a source of support to people in my life, and now I've just up and taken off? Maybe my decision was selfish. Damn...I never thought about that before. Well, I'll say this. If you need anything, and I can help you from abroad, don't hesitate to reach out. And even if what you need is just a quick bit of conversation or someone to vent to, don't hesitate. Surely communicating electronically won't be like an in-person conversation, but it'll be close, and using Skype, it could be very close.

In any case, Skyping with Rachel meant a lot. Though I am finding new sources of support over here, it is really nice to be able to feel the support of the people back home. So thanks Roo. I love you so much.

Anyway, enough of this rant...

Running and Cooking

I still do not have internet at my house, so I wrote this last night and am posting it today.

9/5 8:00PM

They mountains in Eonyong are intermittently shrouded in wispy gatherings of clouds, and for a fleeting moment ever so often, the clouds scatter revealing the steadfast and mighty mountains amongst them.

I just got back from a run, and as a matter of fact, I’ve been doing quite a bit of running in the past weeks. Part of it is for cathartic sake, and the other is simply because the area here is so darn gorgeous. The scenery here reminds me of a mix between Colorado and Vermont. The mountains are somewhat tall and jagged just as they are in Colorado, and at the same time they are lush and green like the ones in Vermont. Imagine Colorado’s mountains being a bit shorter, not bald on the top but covered with lots of deciduous trees, and you’ve just imagined Eonoyong.

I’m sitting in my kitchen now, Discovery Chanel Korea (the only one I get in English) is softly playing on the TV in front of me, all my windows are open, I’m sitting on one of my two chairs, and in the background, the scent of sautéed garlic is wafting around the semi-humid night air which is circulating in my apartment. I’m cooking for the first time. I’m trying to make some sort of curry concoction. Basically, it’s got broccoli, mushrooms, garlic, ginger and tofu as well as some premade curry powder. I’m just happy to be eating some green vegetables.

The food here is somewhat strange. I love all of it. Literally, I have not found a single food that I do not like; however, much of it does not seem to be wildly nutritious. There are not a lot of green veggies that I have encountered, and moreover, everything is super salty. That is my only complaint. The food is good, but SALTY. So, I’m cooking for myself tonight because I’m tired of going out to eat, and because I cannot read Korean, only being able to base my choice of a dish on price and not what I actually desire. It’s actually quite funny how I order. I simply consider how much I want to spend, and then randomly point to something on the menu, and then I hope for the best. I don’t mind because I eat everything, but at the same time, it will be nice to master reading and then learn some basic restaurant vocab.

Reading is coming somewhat slowly, but in fairness, I have not committed much time to learing Hangul (the Korean alphabet). I am traveling to Seoul this weekend because I have a few days off next week for Chousok (Korean Thanksgiving), and I’m planning on using the travel time to study up.

Infancy

I value an experience, job, friend, challenge, etc. based on the amount to which it causes to learn and grow. Thus I am finding my experience here in South Korea to be priceless.

In essence, I am taking a crash course in the one subject I least enjoy: dependency/asking for help. I would rather "do it myself" in almost all situations, and though in some ways I am proud of this part of my character, in another sense I see it as a huge flaw.

So, here is a BRIEF list of what I've needed help doing over the past few weeks.

1. Eating (there is a somewhat specific etiquite on how/when to eat)
2. How to hand people money (you always hand it with two hands)
3. How to open a bank account
4. How to get the internet hooked up (I STILL don't have it...kind of killin' me, but eh.)
5. How to throw away my trash (there are separate bags for trash, recycling, and a special box for compost. Though, my neighbor told me to just throw my compost on the street or in a field because "in country [sic] things are different."
6. How to register as an alien-resident in SoKo
7. How to buy a bus pass
8. How/where to buy hangers for my clothing
9. How to BBQ (Korean style)
10. How to dry my clothes without them molding (in SoKo there are washing machines, but no dryers and super high humidity, so drying clothes has been somewhat of a challenge...now I know to use a fan/put the clothes on the rack, and then put the rack in my room when I have the AC on...both work quite well)

And frankly the list goes on...Here's the point. For a guy who likes to do everything on his own, it has been humbling to have to ask for help to do just about anything. And it's been a perpetual lesson on learning to rely/trust others, something about which I really think I have a lot to learn. And thus, being here in SoKo, though trying as hell at times, is hands down one of the most priceless experiences I have had thus far in life.

One last thought. And I had this the other day while walking in the beautiful bamboo forest in Ulsan (here's a link to a pic) because I often do some of my best thinking on the go...But, living abroad as an immigrant is far different than studying abroad and is surely a far cry from traveling abroad. Living here as an immigrant/alien-citizen means having to ask for help from random strangers. There is no study-abroad coordinator whose sole job is to take care of you. In fact, here, you are essentially on your own, left to have the courage and lack of ego necessary to walk up to, in some cases, complete strangers, and try to explain that you have taken what you thought to be the downtown bus but clearly have not and now need to get to where you are going. It is moments like those that I am completely at the whim of another, and I'm coming to realize, it doesn't have to feel tenuous and full of the potential for the other person to deceive me, but rather is a moment where I can bask in the goodness (most times) of humankind and feel thankful for the support that so often complete strangers here are willing to give me.

And people are people everywhere, thus the lessons in trust I learn here, are lessons I will carry with me back home eventually, and thus will likely become yet another, or rather, more defined facet of my personality.

Much love to everyone back home,
I miss you all. Truly, I do.