Loving Every Rise and Fall

"Man, Hitler sure knew how to ruin a good thing," that's all I could say after learning about the swastika symbol and it's original meaning. Chris explained how the symbol, also the symbol for Buddhism, depicts the cycle of life, the coming and going of things- the Buddhist' philosophy. Any Buddhist temple here is surrounded by Swastikas of all sizes and now it makes sense. We got up early Sunday morning and drove about an hour to Sangisan mountain for my first hike. I got in Chris' car and was immediately jarred by hearing Red Hot Chilli Pepper's "By the Way" playing. This was the very album I distinctly remember listening to on a drive to a hike in Colorado- the last time I was in the mountains. Good omen, I thought. Entering the foothills, we passed a tree that was fenced off and on display. As the legend goes (much of Asia is founded and relies on such legends), this tree was in danger of being cut down when a King came to the mountain and couldn't fit his transportation under it. But, a miracle occurred and the tree grew taller, the branches extending longer and the King was able to pass without cutting it down. Early in the hike we passed a creek, one of many in this forest, but this one, like the tree, was fenced off and guarded. June, Chris' girlfriend and our Korean translator, explained that another King is said to have bathed in this very stream and the water cured him of some injury or disease. The Koreans were embracing this fine 60 degree Sunday as we were. Chris and Darryl explained that the Koreans we see on the mountains will be much more welcoming and nice than those in daily life because, as we hike, we are participated in one of their most honored and culturally ingrained pastimes. As June put it, "if they see you on the mountain, they believe you cannot be wrong." This proved true. They smiled, said hello and shed the usual reserve Korean people posses. The hike was taxing, the sun devouring us and, after about 4 hours of strenuous hike, we reached the peak; drenched in sweat and famished. About twenty people were sitting on the top, observing the view which a King from the Shilla dynasty is said to have made holy through his poetry writing there. I sat down to rest and bask in the glory of nature's sprawl from above when an elder Korean gentleman offered me a shot of Soju- Korea's national, and very harsh liquor. I guess she was right, on top of this mountain, our white complexion is shed and we are one in the same. On the way down I was given a banana and some kimchee. Then, 6 hours after we first started out on the trail, I was finally on the ground again, sore and starving when another Korean man offered me a victory smoke. We ignored our hunger and rushed to the temple to observe the nightly drum ceremony at 6pm. You could feel the drum's reverberations as we approached the grounds. It sounded like a dinosaur, or maybe the gigantic Buddha, was walking through the hills. By now the sun was almost gone, and so to were most the Koreans. The sight of the Buddhas in front of two gongs and other drums was awe-inspiring to say the least. I'm not sure if we were allowed to take pictures, but I felt much too insignificant to even dare interrupt this spiritual tradition. We rested in front of the temple for a while and I must admit to feeling more religious yearnings on a Sunday than I have in quite some time. The tradition, the solemn nature of the scene was very heavy. We went to a restaurant in the town outside the foothills and ate some "mountain vegetables" in mostly silence. By this time, everyone had been properly starved, we chowed, dragged our weary bodies to the car and headed back towards Daejon as the sun reluctantly said goodnight. I thanked Chris for taking me out here and (dejavu #2), he repied, "no worries"- a phrase used daily in one place............Colorado.

The temple grounds and what's left of the sunlight. 

I'm giving Buddy Buddha a high five- thanking him for an incredible Sunday. 

Watching the mountain traffic- grand gold buddy buddha. 

I've seen many Buddhas since I landed in Korea, but none as impressive as this. 

This gigantic bowl once served 3,000 monks. 

The sun going down over a Buddhist temple. 

A well deserved break. 

Amazing how, in a land of so much unhabital land, Korea manages to pack 50 million people in. 

Notice the shirt; Elgin- never truly away from home. 

As you can see, I will never run out of mountains to topple. 

Perched ontop with Koreans, SoJu, and the finest Sunday view. 

The rewards of a four hour hike up. 

One hour drive from my apartment. 

Book Reviews

I figured as I related the stories of my adventure, I should also include some words on the books that illuminate my nights.

First book: "A moveable Feast" by Ernest Hemingway. This was a Strackany recommendations and white it was appropriate for my situation, I was disappointed. The novel differs from other Hemingway I've read because it's autobiographical. The book is written in Ernest's classic simple prose that goes down easy and is light on the stomach. He relates his experiences of being a young writer in Paris. That much talked to me- trying to find time to write- managing his personal experiences while exercising his memory and writing of his past life. I never anticipated the fervor this online journal would create and I'm performing a balancing act of living and logging (or, I should say, blogging). I want to keep all of you with fodder for our community forum. The book chronicled one of the more joyous, carefree periods of Hemingway's life and perhaps that's why I found it less authentic than his other works- certainly less structured.

Book 2: "Villa Incognito" by Tom Robbins
I'm running out of TRob novels and I had planned on saving this one but when friends told me it was set in Asia- I felt the time was right. The story focuses on GIs during the Vietnam War who crash in Thailand and find it more enchanting than America. They hide there and create a commune, a Villa. As always with TRob, it's not so much what he writes about but how he writes it. The book served as an inspiration to write but ended much too soon; abandoning what appeared to be an ambitious story in it's initial form. I know he's getting old and I figured he decided he's proven his point, (arts should be worshipped, creativity, individuality and magic should be perpetually sought), and decided to end the novel prematurely and retire to the beach. If so, I hope the beach babes keep you company TRob, you deserve it.

Book 3: Sexus; The Rosy crucifixion by Henry Miller
If I wasn't aware that this is only volume 1 of 3, I'd be severely depressed that I'm only 100 pages from the finish. This is my fourth Henry Miller novel and definitely the best- probably because it's the longest. Like Mr. Robbins, Henry Miller is a certified genius and I could care less what he writes about, just keep writing, never stop the legendary type-writer. I urge my fellow fans of the English language to start this one and learn, as I am, why so many countries are trying to make their citizens fluent in our native language. That being said, any who are squeamish in the slightest- stay far away. As the title indicates, this book, like Henry Miller's desires is unusually seedy and provocative. His sexual escapades ignite the book and, like everything else he writes about, are in telescopic, graphic detail. Beware.

A view from the stage. This is kindergarten in it's entirety. 

Field Trip

It's funny that I enjoy fieldtrips now as much, maybe even more, than I did as a child. This morning we packed the kindergarten kids onto our four Swaton buses (equiped with tvs playing cartoons for the kids) and left for Say Department store. I know, a field trip to a department store doesn't sound very educational (unless we're trying to teach the kids to be material monsters), but this isn't like a department store in the States. Actually, all the big stores here are much more than we come to expect from a department store. Korea, with it's focus on practical usages of space, manages to turn every store into what we would call a mall. This Say Department store was equipped with a theatre where they were putting on a Korean folk tale play for us and a couple other Hagwans. We arrived first and filled about 1/4 of the auditorium and I was impressed by how uneventful moving the kids from Swaton to the play was- they behaved well, stood in line, held one another's hands, and were seated without a fuss. As the other schools arrived, I felt very proud to be working for Swaton. Kids were running everywhere, crying, fighting for seats and the teachers looked drained. After everyone was packed in, the lights shut off and the kids went nuts. The play was in English and a little Korean as well, but most the dialogue was English. It was cute, simple. A story about karma and the benefits of being a humanitarian. At one point, the hero was rewarded a payment-free credit card and he broke into this rediculous song, "I am rich, I am rich, I have a credit card." Myself and the other foriegners were falling out of our seats laughing. I wonder if this educational message is going to be the ruin of these children in the future...The play ended with the words, "open up your hearts, open up your hearts and love everyone." Sweet. We lined up, held hands, packed back in the high-tech buses and returned to school.

And this concludes Virtual Korea. This is my apartment. It's been about a 10 hr day, time to sit down, eat and try to appease all of you. 

A view from my daily walk home. 

You say good morning and I say good night. Good Night, Good Night. I don't know why you say good morning, I say good night. 

My posse- always getting my back in this strange land. 

This is a good example of the average Swaton lunch. Rice, Kimchee (upper left) and soup are staples to the meal. Today we had some beef balls and green beans. Always a bit more spicy than what you'd eat back home too. 

The cafeteria: At first I would attack the buffet with my college mind and take more food than I could ever eat. Wasted food is a big no, no in Korea and I've since learned how to portion my meals correctly. Also I learned it's smart to sit with your back against the wall, away from the kids, or they will hound you and you'll have no time to eat. 

Compared to many of the horrer stories I've heard from other Hogwans, I am extremely lucky to have stumbled upon Swaton. The paycheck arrives on time every month and we're paid in full. 

I get jealous everytime I see the kids going wild in this room. I never had anything like this in kindergarten. They have five minute breaks where all the kids go in here and lose their minds. 

My desk. Proof; I'm a teacher!!!!!!! 

Here is the teacher's room. The kids are allowed to run rampant through this room, so you have to hide any snacks and eat when no one's looking. 

I'm an equal-opportunity Superman creater. Dennis wants to fly now.