Last weekend, after spending the entire week stuck in the Korean mountains with the most insane batch of bastards in the country, I needed to let off some serious shvitz. So myself and like 10 people, some I knew and some I didn't, decided to go to Hongdae, a crazy ass party town about an hour and a half subway ride away from my home town.
I had a great feeling as I jumped on the subway that it was going to be an epic night. I had my trademark Gatorade and soju by my side and was looking forward to hanging out with some good buds. I even wore my lucky underwear! But the night just kept getting progressively worse and worse, it came to a point where by the end of the night it felt like I had a mouth full of crazy pills and was being sucked down into the twelfth level of psycho...
But don't get me wrong, the entire night wasn't that bad...
I did get a tons of compliments from random Korean people. All of them were not what I was expecting but I've found that expectations and Korea are definitely mutually exclusive.
Some compliment's I've received so far are:
"Ohhhh, You're so Handsome!!!" ( I think this is taught to everyone in this country as a standard response to American men. )
"Your arms, they are furry, so beautiful!!!"
"You have a Majestic Nose." (Really? Majestic?)
Everyone tells me I look like Bruce Willis or Vin Diesel. (At least they don't say George Costanza...)
The first like hour of the night was pretty cool... We started out drinking in the park right next to the University in Hongdae. It was filled to the brim with Korean college kids, Korean motorcycle (Scooter) gangs and a random mix of people from all over the world. We were listening to this student alt-rock band that was actually pretty awesome. I remember this one song...
Dock-bol-ki is this Korean dish that is like a marinara sauce with white stuff and little squid floating in it... It's pretty awesome and even more awesome because it's one of the few Korean words that I can remember. So I was listening to the band and I thought they were singing a song called 'Dock-bol-ki'... So I was super into it and actually sang along... It turns out they were singing Get Funky...
I liked my version better...
Then we went to this one bar that was super chill. There was an 8 piece, all girl Korean punk band playing... These chicks fucking rocked... We got there a little late so we only heard like 4 songs, but they were pretty awesome. This club also served one of my favorite beers, Hoegarden. So with awesome beer in hand, good tunes to listen to, lucky drawls feelin fine and hotties on the stage, four of my seven or eight senses were feeling pretty bomb... Maybe a little too bomb... It's like that old joke... Everyone who thinks that they're going to have a great night take one step forward. Not so fast Alex...
So now please follow me as I step down into the depths of Hell...
Step 1:
So the night started to slide when I met everyone on the subway platform. The usual people were there, all cool people whom.. Is it who or whom? Whom seems too formal but I think it's right. Anyway, these people are my friends. But there was this god damn British guy there who proceeded to piss everyone off more and more throughout the night. It finally ended in a few of us sprinting towards the subway and jumping on Indiana Jones style just before the doors closed in order to get away from this tool.
Step 2:
I think the main thing that bothered me about Hongdae is that it's like a shitty Korean version of a bar in like Tallahassee, Florida. Complete with the cock-smoker westerners who scream "Party" like they're an extra in a movie about that one last party before the end of high school... One thing that I fully appreciate about Korea is all the Koreans, naturally. I've found all the Korean people that I have come into contact with are super chill and stuff. They're always super glad to meet you and always tell you how epic they think America is, which I fully appreciate. But there was a different vibe in the air this night, I mean, how could you love America when all of it's worst representatives are in the same place?
Step 3:
Remember a few blogs back when I got the kabob from the Pakistani guy who was picking his nose? Well I saw his exact freaking twin in Hongdae selling kabobs, sans nosepicking... So I decided to get a kabob from him and see what was what... I wonder why these guys all sell kabobs? I didn't know that kabobs were like the standard way of life for Pakistani Ex-pats. Like prostitution for Russians or drinking for Australians, you never really see one outside of their own country doing anything else but... Weird... But ya I got a kabob and told the guy to make it extra spicy... Bad idea...
So we all walk into this club called GoGo. While we were walking up the steps to the 2nd floor bar, this guy came running out with a bloody face and his buddy was right behind him saying "Police-a"...
Quick side note...
Koreans always put either an "a (uh)" or an "ee" sound after every English word. I try to get my students to stop but it's like fucking everywhere. And to make thing worse, most Koreans don't understand you if you don't put that last little sound on the end of English words. Like with the word Bus... It's fucking Bus... One syllable... It's not like a crazy medical word or something that everyone in the fucking world hasn't heard... I say Bus to a Korean and they look at my like, "What the Fuck, dude?" But I say Bus-a and their like, "OOOOOOOOhhh, You should have said that in the first place". Like I said a completely different word... Taxi-a, Alex-a, Beer-a, Finish-e, Candy-a... It makes me laugh whenever I hear it...
Quick SUB-side note...
Whenever my kids say something that sounds hella funny, am I allowed to laugh? Some of the higher level kids laugh when the other kids say finish-e, or candy-a... I think it sounds hella funny. It sounds like Monica Seles or Serena Williams grunting whenever they hit a tennis ball, funny right? I know part of my job is to like not laugh at the kids and encourage them or whatever, but isn't ridicule the best way to learn NOT to do something?...
End Sub Note...
End Regular Side Note...
Continuing Step 3:
So this guy comes out yelling "Police-a", I guess his buddy got hit in the face or something, he looked fine to me... Kind of a pussy if you ask me. Pussy-a... When we get into GoGos there's like 2 psycho ass old British guys shaking it up with each other and this SUPER haggard Korean chick dancing by herself with a come hither look on her face... Hither-a... I paid like 5,000 won for a hot ass beer and went to go find a bathroom...
Quick Side-note #2...
Why the fuck are there no paper towels or garbage cans in this whole god damn country?... I mean this place is great, but why no paper towels or garbage cans? What if I want to throw something away? What if I want to wipe off my hands?? Let's bring this full circle... What if I want to wipe off my hands then throw the paper towel away???... Whoa...
End Side-note #2...
So I get the bright idea to try and get everyone to go to another bar, I mean, how much worse can it get, right?... Famous last words my friends... Famous last fucking words...
Step 4:
The whole crew walks down stairs to a basement club called FF. I think FF stands for Fat chicks and Freshmen, because that's all that was there. Don't get me wrong, some of my best friends are the latter and former, but on this night, with the good times souring faster than the milk in my sometimes working, sometimes not, refrigerator, I took the crowd in FF as a personal insult. So I bought another 5,000 Won hot beer (maybe all refrigerators in Korea are like mine?), and made a lap around the dance floor to see if I could find a diamond in the rough... Very rough I might add...
Then I got this strange sensation. Think when you bite into a York Peppermint Pattie, but the exact opposite. I started to sweat... I got a tingly sensation, I started to get that feeling that is altogether familiar and scary...
I needed to hurl...
Step 5:
There is nothing sketchier than having to puke and being in a hot, cigarette smoke filled, gnarly people infested bar... There was no way I was going to blow chunks in this club full of people. I needed to gracefully exit this place.... And Fast
So I walked towards the exit sign on the other side of the room. DAMMIT! The door was locked! I had to think fast, I had like a minute tops... So I pushed my way through the dance floor straight to the door in which I had entered. Up a flight of stairs, past the bouncer (who was like 135 pounds, but he probably knows Kung-Fu or something...), through the upstairs bar and out onto the street. I could feel it coming, I knew I had 30 seconds or less... Like when people who are in car accidents say that everything right before the accident was in super slow motion... It was like that, only with vomit...
There were tons of people on the street this night, I needed to find a shady spot, quickly. I looked in all directions and all I saw was people. I walked one way for like half a minute, still more people... Then I saw a little walkway that looked like it was asking to get puked in or peed in or something... So I walked down the alley...
I fully spewed right in front of this bum, I think I woke him up... But who the hell was he going to tell, right?
Wow, I didn't think I would see that kabob again so quickly. That damn thing must has been cursed! I guess the only safe people to buy kabobs from in this country are those who ARE picking their nose.
So I ate my last piece of gum, took a deep breath and walked back to club Sketchy. I actually felt way better. I had only had like 2 beers at this point so I'm pretty sure the kabob was tainted... That kabob became a metaphor for the entire night. What was once so delicious and promising became nothing more than stomach bile and pieces of chewed up chicken dripping off of the side of an apartment building.
Step 6:
So by this time I was super over it... But I knew there was no turning back...
It was around 1 A.M... The subway in Korea doesn't run between the hours of 12A.M. and 5:30 A.M. So if you don't go home before midnight, you have to wait it out until the early morning...
There are several options at this point...
Take a cab, I guess, but pay for an hour and a half cab ride? Fuck that shit.
Sleep on the side of the street... No way, people throw up there...
Sleep in the train station... I would have been up for this, if I knew where the damn thing was.
Or just ride out the shitstorm... But on this night, it was a full on shitocane!
Step 7:
Have you ever met someone who just oozes something that pisses you off? Not like puss or anything gnarly, but just like a stanky aura. This god damn British guy... What can I say about him that already hasn't been said about North Korea? I've never met anyone who was so full of themselves, and at the same time contained so little actual substance... He was like the exact opposite of a Buddhist monk...
...Fast forward through people and cars and neon lights and stuff...
Step 8:
The clock was ticking by very slowly at this point... 4:31... 4:32... 4:33... 4:32...HEY! As Tom Petty once said, "The bad nights take forever, and the good nights don't ever seem to last." Very true, and since this night was a fucking disaster, it was crawling by slower than a suicidal, drunk bum with a broken leg in a burning crack house...
Step Whatever, I want to be fucking home already:
So at 5:31A.M. there was about 6 of us still together. We walked in the direction of the subway station, and the god damn Brit started running his mouth again. Asking questions, answering them, wondering aloud, screaming... This guy was more annoying than fucking Fran Drescher with a megaphone.
...
So I got home at 8A.M., just as normal, red-blooded Koreans were getting up to go to work... Damn what a night...
Post Script:
Here are some more Engrish shirts, worn by students, that have been seen, by me and others, at schools in Korea:
"I'm a Happy Slut"
"U Bring the Ass"
"This is just to let you know that later I will be FUCKING"
(It's funny, I was wearing the same shirt that day... How embarrassing!)
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Trick Ass Marks and Mark Ass Tricks
Last week I hit the road...
Wednesday through Friday I went to GEPIK (The company I work for) orientation in Osan, about an hour and a half away from my home. There were about 150 teachers from all over Korea at this thing. With ages ranging from about 23 to 65. The maturity level reached only half of that while the insanity level reached very very high, almost to dangerous levels.
Several people in particular stood out...
The first time I got a taste of the craziness was in the hallway right outside of my dorm, right when I got there. The first guy came walking up like a pirate with 2 peg legs, or like a Japanese woman who's had her feet bound... He was wearing sandals. In the dorm rooms, there were 2 pairs of slippers provided, one per person as we had to share a room. They were all around a size 6...
This psycho comes tip-toeing up in shoes WAY to small for him and says "Hi there". The entire time he was talking his eyes were watering like an emotional chick watching a Barbara Walters special. Like super heavy tears were dripping down this guys face, he casually wiped them away like it happens to everyone... I asked him if he had allergies and he said "No, why?"... I decided not to push the issue.
The conference was about 35 minutes of information stretched into 3 days of cafeteria food and pretending to like people. There was an older women from Canada that had "been teaching for 30 years and has seen it all"... Great... This bitch had a huge scowl on her face the entire time and asked questions like she was the queen of England talking to a homeless person. Another great quote from this wench was, "I teach like a bullet coming out of a gun"... Whatever the fuck that means... Gun?... I wish I had a gun...
And while I'm on the subject, Canadian's fucking LOVE Canada. The only thing they love more than Canada is telling other people about Canada. They love to tell about all the great shit that Canada has and why it's better than what your country has. Maple syrup and mounty talk only goes so far one would think, but these people can stretch it out into a 3 hour rant... As June Calwood said, "The beaver, which has come to represent Canada as the eagle does the United States and the lion Britain, is a flat-tailed, slow-witted, toothy rodent known to bite off it's own testicles or to stand under its own falling trees."
Moving right along...
There was another old guy who dressed like Johnny Cash, looked like Hagar the Horrible and smelled like a rotting corpse. He had worked "in the casino business" for some-odd years, and decided to become a teacher because... Well I didn't really give a shit why... But he proceeded to tell me, for about an hour... You know when you try to find an out from a conversation, and can't? Every time this guy would end a sentence I would look to another person and try to start a convo with them, but he kept talking. Like Michael Corleone said in the Godfather, "Every time I get out, they keep bringing me back in".
I employed several tactics to try and get away, such as:
The Gross Out-
I tried to gross him out by telling him that my stomach really hurt and that I had to go and drop a deuce... This just gave him something to talk about... It made things worse... Didn't work...
The Fake Out-
I then tried to feign an injury... I told him my side suddenly hurt, I might need to go to the hospital... At this point he tried to examine me, I suddenly felt way better... Didn't work...
The Refill-
I then told him my drink was empty, and I was going in search of another... He offered to buy me another one and sit down and talk, I became very full at this point... Didn't work...
The Last Resort-
Then I remembered my old stand-by... The yelp! I let out a loud "Yelp"... And then another..."YELP, YELP"... Then walked away. IT WORKED!... The shocked crazy bastard didn't talk to me again for the rest of the conference. I've found that, in life, the only way to fight crazy is with more crazy...
People tended to get very annoyed during the the classes, like an old man trying to return soup in a deli. They would ask rude, random, sometimes very personal questions, like "Is there a psychiatrist on hand, I need to talk to someone"... Why the fuck would you ask this in a room with 150 people in it, while we're talking about lesson planning? I felt like screaming, "Shut the fuck up you god damn psycho!" But I restrained myself. This kind of response is usually frowned upon at these things.
Another gem came during the class on Korean culture... "Wouldn't it be easier if everyone just spoke the same language, I mean, COME ON, you have to learn a new one in every country you go to!" I thought she was joking but she then looked around for affirmation. I can't believe this woman's gene pool didn't go dry thousands of years ago. The native Korean lady who was teaching the class was super nice and tried to play it off like she didn't understand. Fucking idiot.
Aside from the craziness, the conference did have it's bright points, I guess it was like being in prison. Those 2 hours on the exercise yard seem pretty awesome after being spooned by Bubba all night. There were some cool people, I guess.
I did learn a lot as well. The book they gave us should be called "Teaching for Dummies". Which is pretty accurate... It contains stuff like how to write a lesson plan, how to control a class (Step 1 - Roll up book and hit students)... It gave us some cool websites to go to and examples of games and stuff like that. I'll definitely use it the rest of the year.
On the way back, I was actually kind of sad. Eating the mayonnaise sandwich they gave us and listening to the conversation going on behind me about how Ireland has the best military in the world, I was reminded of all the unique people I had met and the interesting and useless information I had learned. Sitting on a super gaudy bus, like I was one of the Indian Beatles or something,
I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Crazy Red-haired guy, Old Canadian Bitch, Crying Man... Like a suicide bomber, they all left a little piece of themselves with me... And I will never forget them...
Wednesday through Friday I went to GEPIK (The company I work for) orientation in Osan, about an hour and a half away from my home. There were about 150 teachers from all over Korea at this thing. With ages ranging from about 23 to 65. The maturity level reached only half of that while the insanity level reached very very high, almost to dangerous levels.
Several people in particular stood out...
The first time I got a taste of the craziness was in the hallway right outside of my dorm, right when I got there. The first guy came walking up like a pirate with 2 peg legs, or like a Japanese woman who's had her feet bound... He was wearing sandals. In the dorm rooms, there were 2 pairs of slippers provided, one per person as we had to share a room. They were all around a size 6...
This psycho comes tip-toeing up in shoes WAY to small for him and says "Hi there". The entire time he was talking his eyes were watering like an emotional chick watching a Barbara Walters special. Like super heavy tears were dripping down this guys face, he casually wiped them away like it happens to everyone... I asked him if he had allergies and he said "No, why?"... I decided not to push the issue.
The conference was about 35 minutes of information stretched into 3 days of cafeteria food and pretending to like people. There was an older women from Canada that had "been teaching for 30 years and has seen it all"... Great... This bitch had a huge scowl on her face the entire time and asked questions like she was the queen of England talking to a homeless person. Another great quote from this wench was, "I teach like a bullet coming out of a gun"... Whatever the fuck that means... Gun?... I wish I had a gun...
And while I'm on the subject, Canadian's fucking LOVE Canada. The only thing they love more than Canada is telling other people about Canada. They love to tell about all the great shit that Canada has and why it's better than what your country has. Maple syrup and mounty talk only goes so far one would think, but these people can stretch it out into a 3 hour rant... As June Calwood said, "The beaver, which has come to represent Canada as the eagle does the United States and the lion Britain, is a flat-tailed, slow-witted, toothy rodent known to bite off it's own testicles or to stand under its own falling trees."
Moving right along...
There was another old guy who dressed like Johnny Cash, looked like Hagar the Horrible and smelled like a rotting corpse. He had worked "in the casino business" for some-odd years, and decided to become a teacher because... Well I didn't really give a shit why... But he proceeded to tell me, for about an hour... You know when you try to find an out from a conversation, and can't? Every time this guy would end a sentence I would look to another person and try to start a convo with them, but he kept talking. Like Michael Corleone said in the Godfather, "Every time I get out, they keep bringing me back in".
I employed several tactics to try and get away, such as:
The Gross Out-
I tried to gross him out by telling him that my stomach really hurt and that I had to go and drop a deuce... This just gave him something to talk about... It made things worse... Didn't work...
The Fake Out-
I then tried to feign an injury... I told him my side suddenly hurt, I might need to go to the hospital... At this point he tried to examine me, I suddenly felt way better... Didn't work...
The Refill-
I then told him my drink was empty, and I was going in search of another... He offered to buy me another one and sit down and talk, I became very full at this point... Didn't work...
The Last Resort-
Then I remembered my old stand-by... The yelp! I let out a loud "Yelp"... And then another..."YELP, YELP"... Then walked away. IT WORKED!... The shocked crazy bastard didn't talk to me again for the rest of the conference. I've found that, in life, the only way to fight crazy is with more crazy...
People tended to get very annoyed during the the classes, like an old man trying to return soup in a deli. They would ask rude, random, sometimes very personal questions, like "Is there a psychiatrist on hand, I need to talk to someone"... Why the fuck would you ask this in a room with 150 people in it, while we're talking about lesson planning? I felt like screaming, "Shut the fuck up you god damn psycho!" But I restrained myself. This kind of response is usually frowned upon at these things.
Another gem came during the class on Korean culture... "Wouldn't it be easier if everyone just spoke the same language, I mean, COME ON, you have to learn a new one in every country you go to!" I thought she was joking but she then looked around for affirmation. I can't believe this woman's gene pool didn't go dry thousands of years ago. The native Korean lady who was teaching the class was super nice and tried to play it off like she didn't understand. Fucking idiot.
Aside from the craziness, the conference did have it's bright points, I guess it was like being in prison. Those 2 hours on the exercise yard seem pretty awesome after being spooned by Bubba all night. There were some cool people, I guess.
I did learn a lot as well. The book they gave us should be called "Teaching for Dummies". Which is pretty accurate... It contains stuff like how to write a lesson plan, how to control a class (Step 1 - Roll up book and hit students)... It gave us some cool websites to go to and examples of games and stuff like that. I'll definitely use it the rest of the year.
On the way back, I was actually kind of sad. Eating the mayonnaise sandwich they gave us and listening to the conversation going on behind me about how Ireland has the best military in the world, I was reminded of all the unique people I had met and the interesting and useless information I had learned. Sitting on a super gaudy bus, like I was one of the Indian Beatles or something,
I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Crazy Red-haired guy, Old Canadian Bitch, Crying Man... Like a suicide bomber, they all left a little piece of themselves with me... And I will never forget them...
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Poppin and lockin with the one eyed Korean gangstaz
This weekend I traveled about 45 minutes from my house to a place called Anyang, and it was fucking awesome...
One thing I noticed right away was that people were all taking pictures with one eye covered by their hand... What the hell was this all about? At first I thought it was like blind awareness day or there was a pirate convention in town or something, but the more I looked, the more eye covering I saw.
(This guy was super faded)
Old, young, men, women, hotties, notties and fuglies alike... All one eye covered. I'm familiar with the peace sign, which is standard in every other picture on this continent, but this one was completely new for me. Maybe it has something to do with being drunk or something... But it was super bizarre. I asked around and no one seemed to know what it means. I even asked my co-teachers the next day and they said something to each other in Korean and then told me they didn't know... I think they do know, dammit, but they're just not telling me...
I was in no mood for beer on this night, I needed strong drink. So we hit the nearest 7-11 (Good old sevy) and posted up right outside to discuss a game plan. I decided that Gatorade and Soju would both keep me hydrated and make me look more athletic, while at the same time making me look like less of a raging alcoholic drinking right on the street. I usually steer clear of Soju, drinking the stuff is like ringing out a bar towel at the end of the night into your mouth, and the hangover is worse...
Right outside of the 7-11 was a little stand selling kabobs. Me and my buddy were discussing whether the owners were from India or Pakistan. I said Pakistan. But the odds are definitely in his favor I guess... Anyway, the guy would take off his plastic gloves and pick his nose every like 2 minutes... It was pretty revolting... But I still got a kabob... It was fucking great, and super spicy. It gave me the hick-ups it was so spicy. I wonder why that happened?
We decide to go to this bar called "Hip-Hop Bar". It was in the basement below a KFC and a place called "Elvis Bar".
The Elvis bar looked pretty cool, so we made a slight detour. They had a poker table (Gambling is legal for foreigners in Korea, but illegal for natives((or is it the other way around?))), tons of great beer and even a karaoke machine with all of the king's hits. The best thing about the Elvis bar was the hot waitress who was talking to us. She started out by saying "I love America", which I've heard like a million times here already. She then attempted to pretend like she was drinking out of this huge corona bottle at the edge of the bar, but instead of look cool she proceeded to knock over like 15 beer glasses and shatter them all over the ground... She walked away and didn't talk to us again after that...
After soaking up enough Korean Graceland, we headed downstairs to the Hip-Hop bar. The first thing I noticed when we got into the place is that there was a fucking baby in the DJ booth. Like a 1 year old. This place was hella loud too. I'm not sure... This kid will either be super awesome or a deaf psycho when he grows up. The second thing I noticed was all the Korean gangsta wannabes. These guys were decked out in the douchiest items American culture has to offer. Backwards hats with the stickers still on the bill, huge ass white tee shirts that go past the knees. And they all were busting this little Pop and Lock dance with one eye covered. But they would do it for like 5 seconds and then stop, like they were compelled, and then depelled at an incredible rate.
Korean Gangstaz turned out to be very different than their American counterparts. They're hella nice! These guys are super friendly and even open doors for you. I was pretty surprised. They even tried to teach me their dance, which I butchered pretty badly but they seemed pretty impressed and were giving me high-fives the rest of the night. I guess the old Japanese proverb is right, "We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance".
The rest of the night?... Well.. I'll let the good Dr. explain it... "If I'd written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity"
The funniest part of the trip came on the subway back. My buddy, who is straight, got a text from an unknown number at like 10:45am, it read, "Hey let's fuck, Ron"... No one knew who the hell Ron was, I tried to tell him it was short for Ronda or Veronica or something, but in the back of my mind I kind of laughed...
No thank you Ron...
No thank you...
One thing I noticed right away was that people were all taking pictures with one eye covered by their hand... What the hell was this all about? At first I thought it was like blind awareness day or there was a pirate convention in town or something, but the more I looked, the more eye covering I saw.
(This guy was super faded)
Old, young, men, women, hotties, notties and fuglies alike... All one eye covered. I'm familiar with the peace sign, which is standard in every other picture on this continent, but this one was completely new for me. Maybe it has something to do with being drunk or something... But it was super bizarre. I asked around and no one seemed to know what it means. I even asked my co-teachers the next day and they said something to each other in Korean and then told me they didn't know... I think they do know, dammit, but they're just not telling me...
I was in no mood for beer on this night, I needed strong drink. So we hit the nearest 7-11 (Good old sevy) and posted up right outside to discuss a game plan. I decided that Gatorade and Soju would both keep me hydrated and make me look more athletic, while at the same time making me look like less of a raging alcoholic drinking right on the street. I usually steer clear of Soju, drinking the stuff is like ringing out a bar towel at the end of the night into your mouth, and the hangover is worse...
Right outside of the 7-11 was a little stand selling kabobs. Me and my buddy were discussing whether the owners were from India or Pakistan. I said Pakistan. But the odds are definitely in his favor I guess... Anyway, the guy would take off his plastic gloves and pick his nose every like 2 minutes... It was pretty revolting... But I still got a kabob... It was fucking great, and super spicy. It gave me the hick-ups it was so spicy. I wonder why that happened?
We decide to go to this bar called "Hip-Hop Bar". It was in the basement below a KFC and a place called "Elvis Bar".
The Elvis bar looked pretty cool, so we made a slight detour. They had a poker table (Gambling is legal for foreigners in Korea, but illegal for natives((or is it the other way around?))), tons of great beer and even a karaoke machine with all of the king's hits. The best thing about the Elvis bar was the hot waitress who was talking to us. She started out by saying "I love America", which I've heard like a million times here already. She then attempted to pretend like she was drinking out of this huge corona bottle at the edge of the bar, but instead of look cool she proceeded to knock over like 15 beer glasses and shatter them all over the ground... She walked away and didn't talk to us again after that...
After soaking up enough Korean Graceland, we headed downstairs to the Hip-Hop bar. The first thing I noticed when we got into the place is that there was a fucking baby in the DJ booth. Like a 1 year old. This place was hella loud too. I'm not sure... This kid will either be super awesome or a deaf psycho when he grows up. The second thing I noticed was all the Korean gangsta wannabes. These guys were decked out in the douchiest items American culture has to offer. Backwards hats with the stickers still on the bill, huge ass white tee shirts that go past the knees. And they all were busting this little Pop and Lock dance with one eye covered. But they would do it for like 5 seconds and then stop, like they were compelled, and then depelled at an incredible rate.
Korean Gangstaz turned out to be very different than their American counterparts. They're hella nice! These guys are super friendly and even open doors for you. I was pretty surprised. They even tried to teach me their dance, which I butchered pretty badly but they seemed pretty impressed and were giving me high-fives the rest of the night. I guess the old Japanese proverb is right, "We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance".
The rest of the night?... Well.. I'll let the good Dr. explain it... "If I'd written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity"
The funniest part of the trip came on the subway back. My buddy, who is straight, got a text from an unknown number at like 10:45am, it read, "Hey let's fuck, Ron"... No one knew who the hell Ron was, I tried to tell him it was short for Ronda or Veronica or something, but in the back of my mind I kind of laughed...
No thank you Ron...
No thank you...
Monday, September 14, 2009
Hello Ladies and Gentlemen! My Name is Fuck.
Today I had to give a "speech" in front of the entire faculty at my school. I was told 20 minutes beforehand that I was to go upstairs for something, I thought it was food. So I walk into this auditorium and there are 50 - 60 Korean teachers looking at me and all smiling. I was ushered up to the very front and sat down. A minute later the principal of my school walked over to me and motioned for me to stand next to him. He pulled out this microphone...
But it wasn't a normal microphone, it was like the one that Bob Barker used on The Price is Right. Super thin with a gray little bubble on the end.
He proceeded to talk about me for a good 5 minutes. He was reading a fact sheet about me. The only words I understood were "Aricks", "Hobble" and "University of Americuhhhhh San Diego". He got a wide range of reactions from the crowd. They laughed a few times, one time they all oohed and aahed and said "Gentleman" and "Warrior"... What the fuck was he saying? So then they all clapped and I was handed the Bob Barker microphone and my speech was to commence.
For a second I thought about saying "I have a big one"... Or "Hi, my name is fuck"... But I decided against it... Here is the transcript of my speech.
"Hello Sigok (My school's name), Anyonhaseo (Hello)"
At this point they all clapped like I was juggling chainsaws in a speedo.
"I am very happy to be here and am very happy to be in Korea."
(They all looked around and laughed to each other like they had no idea what the fuck I just said... Should have gone with something awesome)
"Thank you, Camsanida (Thank You)"
They all erupted in applause again and I was quickly ushered out of the hall and back to my waiting class that were given an unsupervised break. I got back to the classroom just in time to see a boy hit a girl in the head with a ball from about 20 feet. And most of the candy was gone...
I thought is was a bad Idea to leave the kids unsupervised. I remember the kinds of things I used to do in class when the teacher wasn't looking.
Projectiles were all the rage growing up. A kid who knew how to make something that shot something was like a nuclear powered Iran, a formidable opponent. School became not a academic competition, but an arms race.
What started out as simply throwing a crumpled up piece of paper became a very sophisticated science. In Junior High we used to use rubber bands and connect like 3 together. Then you would fold a piece of paper into a V shape, then put one staple into the point of the V. The rubber band would then be strung between your index finger and your thumb, with the V going in the middle and then pulled back like a bow and arrow. These things fucking hurt! You could probably take down a small rodent with one of these bad boys.
Speaking of rodents. I was walking along the sidewalk yesterday and saw something in the distance. I thought it was a wallet at first. I've seen like 5 wallets on the ground so far in my short stay here, but I never pick them up because as my mom used to say, "Someone could have peed on it"...
So I get up to the wallet and it's a fucking rat vomiting blood. And not just a little, but a shit load of bubbling blood. It even was steaming. Mind you I was on the way back from the store with dinner and was super hungry... It was pretty gnarly. It made me want to spit up. But instead I created a whole story about how this rat lived and died. I began to wonder if he had accomplished all he had set out to do in life, or if his life was cut tragically short by poison, swine flu or a bike tire...
Last weekend I went to Hongdae, which is a super awesome college town about an hour and a half from where I live. And I went to Osan, which is equidistant from my house. Osan is where there is an American military base. I went there in search of a phone, and to spend my remaining American money. They sold many things here. I was also searching for Nun chucks and a sword. I feel these things would add a touch of class to my apartment... I'm kind of glad I didn't find any, I would probably be tempted to break everything in my apartment.
On the way back there was a classic guy on the subway. He had like 5 bags of the most random shit with him. He had like 4 little bags full of like electric shavers, nuts and bolts, cotton panties and like 5 Dice, dices... Die... No, dice is right. The 5th bag was a huge trash bag full of lettuce. Every time the doors of the subway car would open, the bag of lettuce would fall into the station. My friend would pick it up for him at like every stop. We finally realized that this guy was hella fucked up, and it was like 3pm on a Sunday. He had this hazy smile and slurred his Korean words. Every time she would pick up his garbage bag of lettuce, he would bow and say, "You're number one, I'm number 2". But his bows weren't regular bows, they were like super bows. He would almost touch his head to his knees (No easy task on a super crowded subway). This went on for like 7 or 8 stations. When we got off the train I kind of missed him, I kind of wondered his story and wanted to find out why the fuck he was drunk at 3pm on a Sunday traveling such a long distance in search of lettuce... I hope to see him again...
But it wasn't a normal microphone, it was like the one that Bob Barker used on The Price is Right. Super thin with a gray little bubble on the end.
He proceeded to talk about me for a good 5 minutes. He was reading a fact sheet about me. The only words I understood were "Aricks", "Hobble" and "University of Americuhhhhh San Diego". He got a wide range of reactions from the crowd. They laughed a few times, one time they all oohed and aahed and said "Gentleman" and "Warrior"... What the fuck was he saying? So then they all clapped and I was handed the Bob Barker microphone and my speech was to commence.
For a second I thought about saying "I have a big one"... Or "Hi, my name is fuck"... But I decided against it... Here is the transcript of my speech.
"Hello Sigok (My school's name), Anyonhaseo (Hello)"
At this point they all clapped like I was juggling chainsaws in a speedo.
"I am very happy to be here and am very happy to be in Korea."
(They all looked around and laughed to each other like they had no idea what the fuck I just said... Should have gone with something awesome)
"Thank you, Camsanida (Thank You)"
They all erupted in applause again and I was quickly ushered out of the hall and back to my waiting class that were given an unsupervised break. I got back to the classroom just in time to see a boy hit a girl in the head with a ball from about 20 feet. And most of the candy was gone...
I thought is was a bad Idea to leave the kids unsupervised. I remember the kinds of things I used to do in class when the teacher wasn't looking.
Projectiles were all the rage growing up. A kid who knew how to make something that shot something was like a nuclear powered Iran, a formidable opponent. School became not a academic competition, but an arms race.
What started out as simply throwing a crumpled up piece of paper became a very sophisticated science. In Junior High we used to use rubber bands and connect like 3 together. Then you would fold a piece of paper into a V shape, then put one staple into the point of the V. The rubber band would then be strung between your index finger and your thumb, with the V going in the middle and then pulled back like a bow and arrow. These things fucking hurt! You could probably take down a small rodent with one of these bad boys.
Speaking of rodents. I was walking along the sidewalk yesterday and saw something in the distance. I thought it was a wallet at first. I've seen like 5 wallets on the ground so far in my short stay here, but I never pick them up because as my mom used to say, "Someone could have peed on it"...
So I get up to the wallet and it's a fucking rat vomiting blood. And not just a little, but a shit load of bubbling blood. It even was steaming. Mind you I was on the way back from the store with dinner and was super hungry... It was pretty gnarly. It made me want to spit up. But instead I created a whole story about how this rat lived and died. I began to wonder if he had accomplished all he had set out to do in life, or if his life was cut tragically short by poison, swine flu or a bike tire...
Last weekend I went to Hongdae, which is a super awesome college town about an hour and a half from where I live. And I went to Osan, which is equidistant from my house. Osan is where there is an American military base. I went there in search of a phone, and to spend my remaining American money. They sold many things here. I was also searching for Nun chucks and a sword. I feel these things would add a touch of class to my apartment... I'm kind of glad I didn't find any, I would probably be tempted to break everything in my apartment.
On the way back there was a classic guy on the subway. He had like 5 bags of the most random shit with him. He had like 4 little bags full of like electric shavers, nuts and bolts, cotton panties and like 5 Dice, dices... Die... No, dice is right. The 5th bag was a huge trash bag full of lettuce. Every time the doors of the subway car would open, the bag of lettuce would fall into the station. My friend would pick it up for him at like every stop. We finally realized that this guy was hella fucked up, and it was like 3pm on a Sunday. He had this hazy smile and slurred his Korean words. Every time she would pick up his garbage bag of lettuce, he would bow and say, "You're number one, I'm number 2". But his bows weren't regular bows, they were like super bows. He would almost touch his head to his knees (No easy task on a super crowded subway). This went on for like 7 or 8 stations. When we got off the train I kind of missed him, I kind of wondered his story and wanted to find out why the fuck he was drunk at 3pm on a Sunday traveling such a long distance in search of lettuce... I hope to see him again...
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Cigarettes and Whiskey
I'm nearing the end of my first week as a real life teacher. And I have to admit, I'm feeling pretty great. I'm still kind of waiting for the other hand to drop and nail me in the head with something crazy. Everyone I have talked to says that the honeymoon period will end soon and I'll hate it here, but most of the people over here who write about teaching seem like kind of angry little bastards, so...
But... Their points are semi-valid. I was speaking to someone the other day who told me a true horror story. They work at a Hagwon, a private study school that many Korean children go to AFTER they go to regular school. These places are super intensive and all the kids in my class that go hate it. They have a reputation as being really sketchy at times and even criminal at worst. I guess there is a real problem with children having to go to the hospital because their hair is falling out due to the overwhelming stress. This happens to kids as young as 4! It just makes me glad the I have a good school and great co-workers... So far...
I am still fascinated by the shirts with English phrases on them. Today a girl, probably 11 years old, walked into my classroom wearing a shirt that said in big red letters, "Cigarettes and Whiskey", I was kind of shocked at first but then I had to stop myself from laughing. I wonder if she, or anyone else in the school for that matter knows what it means? Probably not, it was like a little joke just for me. Another kid was wearing a shirt that said "NBA - Boston Feltics", yes, with an F. Also, when I was in Seoul, I saw a girl that was no more than 12 or 13 wearing a shirt that said "Rock out with your Cock out". Good stuff... And good advise. I really want to start my own line of clothing, at least shirts.
Some phrases would be:
"One in one's hand is appropriate for 2 in one's house"
"How can she play American cool football, with passion and fashion"
"It's a piece of cake to procure a severe tarter problem" ( This one's pretty clever I thought )
"How much for the alligator?"
"My viscosity will increase with honor and equivalence, Monkey Balls"
But I digress...
Because all the students and teachers have to take off their shoes inside the school, the floors are super nice. And because the students have to clean them for 1 period out of the 8 every day, they are super clean and slick. I just found out today that I can slide, Risky Business style, a good 15 feet (I wasn't wearing tighty whities). It's pretty fun. No children were in the room of course, I have to maintain some kind of professionalism.
But this got me thinking.
Were my teachers in the past really the boring, mundane people that most of them pretended to be? As Woody Allen once said, "My education was dismal. I went to a series of schools for mentally disturbed teachers."... Or were my previous teachers really super massive insane party animals that just put on a short sleeve shirt and pocket protector to give them something to do while the clubs were closed? Furthermore, this makes me wonder if all of my teachers in the past have been thinking some of the same things that I have been thinking this week.
For instance:
If all 35 of these kids attacked me, could I defend myself, and defeat them?
Could I jump from desk to desk, lilly pad style?
Just as I was writing the last paragraph my co-teacher came into my room and handed me an envelope, It contained my Alien Registration Card. I am now an official alien. And I got my passport back. I thought it was kind of sketch that they kept it. I would like to be able to dip out of this place if some crazy shit goes down, but I'm not anticipating any James Bond stuff to happen, I hope.
One question I have heard from multiple sources is, "Are you an announcer or a newscaster?" I guess my voice really carries and, compared to other voices here, I can project like that soccer announcer on the Mexican channel. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL". So if this teaching thing doesn't work out, look for me on Korean TV!
But... Their points are semi-valid. I was speaking to someone the other day who told me a true horror story. They work at a Hagwon, a private study school that many Korean children go to AFTER they go to regular school. These places are super intensive and all the kids in my class that go hate it. They have a reputation as being really sketchy at times and even criminal at worst. I guess there is a real problem with children having to go to the hospital because their hair is falling out due to the overwhelming stress. This happens to kids as young as 4! It just makes me glad the I have a good school and great co-workers... So far...
I am still fascinated by the shirts with English phrases on them. Today a girl, probably 11 years old, walked into my classroom wearing a shirt that said in big red letters, "Cigarettes and Whiskey", I was kind of shocked at first but then I had to stop myself from laughing. I wonder if she, or anyone else in the school for that matter knows what it means? Probably not, it was like a little joke just for me. Another kid was wearing a shirt that said "NBA - Boston Feltics", yes, with an F. Also, when I was in Seoul, I saw a girl that was no more than 12 or 13 wearing a shirt that said "Rock out with your Cock out". Good stuff... And good advise. I really want to start my own line of clothing, at least shirts.
Some phrases would be:
"One in one's hand is appropriate for 2 in one's house"
"How can she play American cool football, with passion and fashion"
"It's a piece of cake to procure a severe tarter problem" ( This one's pretty clever I thought )
"How much for the alligator?"
"My viscosity will increase with honor and equivalence, Monkey Balls"
But I digress...
Because all the students and teachers have to take off their shoes inside the school, the floors are super nice. And because the students have to clean them for 1 period out of the 8 every day, they are super clean and slick. I just found out today that I can slide, Risky Business style, a good 15 feet (I wasn't wearing tighty whities). It's pretty fun. No children were in the room of course, I have to maintain some kind of professionalism.
But this got me thinking.
Were my teachers in the past really the boring, mundane people that most of them pretended to be? As Woody Allen once said, "My education was dismal. I went to a series of schools for mentally disturbed teachers."... Or were my previous teachers really super massive insane party animals that just put on a short sleeve shirt and pocket protector to give them something to do while the clubs were closed? Furthermore, this makes me wonder if all of my teachers in the past have been thinking some of the same things that I have been thinking this week.
For instance:
If all 35 of these kids attacked me, could I defend myself, and defeat them?
Could I jump from desk to desk, lilly pad style?
Just as I was writing the last paragraph my co-teacher came into my room and handed me an envelope, It contained my Alien Registration Card. I am now an official alien. And I got my passport back. I thought it was kind of sketch that they kept it. I would like to be able to dip out of this place if some crazy shit goes down, but I'm not anticipating any James Bond stuff to happen, I hope.
One question I have heard from multiple sources is, "Are you an announcer or a newscaster?" I guess my voice really carries and, compared to other voices here, I can project like that soccer announcer on the Mexican channel. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL". So if this teaching thing doesn't work out, look for me on Korean TV!
Monday, September 7, 2009
First day on the job
Today I woke up at 7:20am, a new record for me. It was my first day at my new school. I was super excited. My school is about 2 blocks from my apartment and as I stepped out of my apartment around 8am it was already like 90 degrees, and it looked like rain.
As I walked up to the school there were 3 teachers wearing surgical masks and holding thermometers. Because of the Swine Flu "epidemic" they have to take everyone's temperature before they enter the school. They have those ear thermometers but they don't have any plastic protective covers for them... In a school of over a thousand kids and only 3 thermometers... Carry the 2... Thats over 300 kids ears that this thing has been in just today. Imagine sticking your finger in 300 kids ears and then sticking it in your ear, not what I wanted to do my first day. People are super afraid of Swine Flu here in Korea. Never mind the fact that they all use the same thermometer and eat out of the same soup bowl with their own spoon (talk about double dipping...)... There is a handy swine flu chart all over Korea.
I will translate as best I can...
1 - While washing your hands, gray faceless people may accumulate outside the bathroom.
2 - Little girls and boys should hold hands and sneeze directly into their surgical masks and handkerchiefs.
3 - While wearing a tuxedo, try not to think about the gray faceless people.
4 - Doctors and nurses in Korea have special powers that can be used to levitate huge horse pills.
5 - While camping, have 2 glasses of water right next to you.
6 - If you are sick, only sneeze on the elderly and pregnant women.
...
So I rushed past the thermometer people without using the community thermometer and quickly ran to the shoe cubbys. In Korea, all children and teachers take their shoes off indoors and wear either socks or slippers. I have to do the same. I have a pair of shitty black plastic sandals that I was given, they are the largest size available in Korea without a special order and my feet hang over the edge a good inch. I look like a German who just hit a mean growth spurt. Socks and sandals isn't really my forte but it turned out to be pretty cool. It brings a more homey, less formal vibe to everything. All the female teachers have plastic sandals with heels in them... I even saw a guy today on the street today wearing heeled sandals... He was still like 5'6''.
My first class started around 9:10am. The bell to signal classes is some soundtrack from a video game, it's pretty cool, I feel like I'm about to save the princess. About 35 kids came running into the classroom and now I know what an animal at the zoo feels like. They were all staring at me with a look of wonder in their eyes. So they sat down and the teacher said something in Korean and they all OOhed and AAhed at the new foreigner. They asked me to prepare an introductory PowerPoint presentation about where I come from and about my family. The ppt I made was super stereotypical. I showed some pictures of the fam and of my college that I took. I made a few pages about some popular cities in America. For the New York page I had taxis, the statue of liberty, a hot dog stand and a shot of the skyline. For Dallas, Texas I had a picture of J.R. Ewing, some guy rasseling a rattle snake and a pic of some delicious looking BBQ. For Los Angeles I had Brad Pitt, the Hollywood sign and a picture of bumper to bumper traffic. For San Francisco I had a pic of the Golden Gate bridge, and a skyline shot. I wanted to put a gay guy but didn't think it was appropriate and didn't really want to explain that on the first day to a bunch of fifth graders...
All the kids were super nice and all bowed to me at the end and said "Bye Teacher!"... Holy shit, I'm a teacher, the tables have finally turned. I'm about to be paid back for all the pain and suffering I have inflected on countless teachers over the past some-odd years. I think I'm going to do what countless creepy guys and the witch in Hansel and Gretel did, give them candy until they like me. That always works.
I only worked a half day today. I left school after lunch to go to the immigration office in Inchon to get my Alien Registration Card. I am now a registered alien. Sweet. Tomorrow I jump into the mix and work a full day, definitely going to drink more coffee tomorrow morning.
As I walked up to the school there were 3 teachers wearing surgical masks and holding thermometers. Because of the Swine Flu "epidemic" they have to take everyone's temperature before they enter the school. They have those ear thermometers but they don't have any plastic protective covers for them... In a school of over a thousand kids and only 3 thermometers... Carry the 2... Thats over 300 kids ears that this thing has been in just today. Imagine sticking your finger in 300 kids ears and then sticking it in your ear, not what I wanted to do my first day. People are super afraid of Swine Flu here in Korea. Never mind the fact that they all use the same thermometer and eat out of the same soup bowl with their own spoon (talk about double dipping...)... There is a handy swine flu chart all over Korea.
I will translate as best I can...
1 - While washing your hands, gray faceless people may accumulate outside the bathroom.
2 - Little girls and boys should hold hands and sneeze directly into their surgical masks and handkerchiefs.
3 - While wearing a tuxedo, try not to think about the gray faceless people.
4 - Doctors and nurses in Korea have special powers that can be used to levitate huge horse pills.
5 - While camping, have 2 glasses of water right next to you.
6 - If you are sick, only sneeze on the elderly and pregnant women.
...
So I rushed past the thermometer people without using the community thermometer and quickly ran to the shoe cubbys. In Korea, all children and teachers take their shoes off indoors and wear either socks or slippers. I have to do the same. I have a pair of shitty black plastic sandals that I was given, they are the largest size available in Korea without a special order and my feet hang over the edge a good inch. I look like a German who just hit a mean growth spurt. Socks and sandals isn't really my forte but it turned out to be pretty cool. It brings a more homey, less formal vibe to everything. All the female teachers have plastic sandals with heels in them... I even saw a guy today on the street today wearing heeled sandals... He was still like 5'6''.
My first class started around 9:10am. The bell to signal classes is some soundtrack from a video game, it's pretty cool, I feel like I'm about to save the princess. About 35 kids came running into the classroom and now I know what an animal at the zoo feels like. They were all staring at me with a look of wonder in their eyes. So they sat down and the teacher said something in Korean and they all OOhed and AAhed at the new foreigner. They asked me to prepare an introductory PowerPoint presentation about where I come from and about my family. The ppt I made was super stereotypical. I showed some pictures of the fam and of my college that I took. I made a few pages about some popular cities in America. For the New York page I had taxis, the statue of liberty, a hot dog stand and a shot of the skyline. For Dallas, Texas I had a picture of J.R. Ewing, some guy rasseling a rattle snake and a pic of some delicious looking BBQ. For Los Angeles I had Brad Pitt, the Hollywood sign and a picture of bumper to bumper traffic. For San Francisco I had a pic of the Golden Gate bridge, and a skyline shot. I wanted to put a gay guy but didn't think it was appropriate and didn't really want to explain that on the first day to a bunch of fifth graders...
All the kids were super nice and all bowed to me at the end and said "Bye Teacher!"... Holy shit, I'm a teacher, the tables have finally turned. I'm about to be paid back for all the pain and suffering I have inflected on countless teachers over the past some-odd years. I think I'm going to do what countless creepy guys and the witch in Hansel and Gretel did, give them candy until they like me. That always works.
I only worked a half day today. I left school after lunch to go to the immigration office in Inchon to get my Alien Registration Card. I am now a registered alien. Sweet. Tomorrow I jump into the mix and work a full day, definitely going to drink more coffee tomorrow morning.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Anyoung Haseyo Korea
Over the past few days I have begun to settle into my new home and have been pleasantly surprised by the general attitude and style of this place. I've begun to see that in order to truly appreciate life one must take time to stop and smell the flowers.
Before I came to Korea, my view, and I believe the typical American view of Korea is that of a nation of Kim-Chi eating people who all work in rice patties or fireworks factories. Although there are a lot of rice fields and they do serve Kim-Chi with every meal, that's not really the mood that is produced over here. I haven't found any cool fireworks yet, probably for the best.
Korea is VERY clean, sometimes fanatically. Everywhere you go there is someone cleaning something. Old ladies cleaning the subway steps, old men cleaning the sidewalks and bus stops... But why is it only old people? I haven't seen anyone under 60 cleaning now that I think about it...
I was in Seoul today and found it hard to find a piece of trash on the ground, anywhere. I also only saw like 2 bums the entire 2 days I was there (And they seemed pretty calm and zen, unlike the insane bastards that we have back home). I was comparing Seoul to San Francisco the entire time and found Frisco to be an angry, rushed shit-hole in comparison.
Speaking of shit-holes, one thing I don't really appreciate about Korea are the toilets in public places, literally a hole. Really? I'll wait til I get home...
But other than that I've been super stoked the entire week. I'm nearing the end of my "Quarantine" week and am sad that I can't have another. I've had a great week and have had ample time to embrace my new home. I even took the time to strike a traditional Korean pose. (I think the chick on my right appreciates it)
I've also been cooking all of my meals Korean style, which is no easy task. They've mainly consisted of rice, meat, soy sauce and wasabi. I threw in a red pepper yesterday to switch things up. But they've all been super awesome so far. Going shopping is kind of difficult, everything is in Korean! I can buy fruit (Super expensive, $13 for a bunch of grapes) and meat and stuff like that, but the packaged stuff is a crap shoot, literally. But everyone is pleasantly surprised to see me as I'm one of the only westerners in my town. Some people even know a few Engrish words and try to communicate with me. I answer them back with my few Korean words and we proceed to completely confuse each other.
Seoul, as I have previously reported is awesome. One would think that because it's a major international city that it would be kind of global and lose some of it's roots, not at all. There are some English speakers and a few Western establishments,
but the vast majority of the city is very "Korean" and remains awesome. Walking down the street there are tons of street vendors selling some stuff that looks... Different. Giant smoked squid tentacles and flattened grilled stingray's that I didn't try. Hot dog shishkabobs and red stuff with white stuff floating in it that is actually pretty good.
(What is that?)
So I start school on Monday and will definitely have some great stories. I guess a kid at our school tested positive for swine flu so all the teachers have to wear surgical masks throughout the day. Between that and my indoor slippers I'm going to look like a doctor that just got out of the shower, I'll get a picture and you'll see what I'll have to deal with, should be an interesting week...
Before I came to Korea, my view, and I believe the typical American view of Korea is that of a nation of Kim-Chi eating people who all work in rice patties or fireworks factories. Although there are a lot of rice fields and they do serve Kim-Chi with every meal, that's not really the mood that is produced over here. I haven't found any cool fireworks yet, probably for the best.
Korea is VERY clean, sometimes fanatically. Everywhere you go there is someone cleaning something. Old ladies cleaning the subway steps, old men cleaning the sidewalks and bus stops... But why is it only old people? I haven't seen anyone under 60 cleaning now that I think about it...
I was in Seoul today and found it hard to find a piece of trash on the ground, anywhere. I also only saw like 2 bums the entire 2 days I was there (And they seemed pretty calm and zen, unlike the insane bastards that we have back home). I was comparing Seoul to San Francisco the entire time and found Frisco to be an angry, rushed shit-hole in comparison.
Speaking of shit-holes, one thing I don't really appreciate about Korea are the toilets in public places, literally a hole. Really? I'll wait til I get home...
But other than that I've been super stoked the entire week. I'm nearing the end of my "Quarantine" week and am sad that I can't have another. I've had a great week and have had ample time to embrace my new home. I even took the time to strike a traditional Korean pose. (I think the chick on my right appreciates it)
I've also been cooking all of my meals Korean style, which is no easy task. They've mainly consisted of rice, meat, soy sauce and wasabi. I threw in a red pepper yesterday to switch things up. But they've all been super awesome so far. Going shopping is kind of difficult, everything is in Korean! I can buy fruit (Super expensive, $13 for a bunch of grapes) and meat and stuff like that, but the packaged stuff is a crap shoot, literally. But everyone is pleasantly surprised to see me as I'm one of the only westerners in my town. Some people even know a few Engrish words and try to communicate with me. I answer them back with my few Korean words and we proceed to completely confuse each other.
Seoul, as I have previously reported is awesome. One would think that because it's a major international city that it would be kind of global and lose some of it's roots, not at all. There are some English speakers and a few Western establishments,
but the vast majority of the city is very "Korean" and remains awesome. Walking down the street there are tons of street vendors selling some stuff that looks... Different. Giant smoked squid tentacles and flattened grilled stingray's that I didn't try. Hot dog shishkabobs and red stuff with white stuff floating in it that is actually pretty good.
(What is that?)So I start school on Monday and will definitely have some great stories. I guess a kid at our school tested positive for swine flu so all the teachers have to wear surgical masks throughout the day. Between that and my indoor slippers I'm going to look like a doctor that just got out of the shower, I'll get a picture and you'll see what I'll have to deal with, should be an interesting week...
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