Mountain Shots

Alone at the top

We were off school this Tuesday for a 'Swaton Day' (whatever that means). I decided to use this time for some adventuring. I hopped on the bus for Geryoungsan around 2PM. This was late for mountain climbing. Most folks were working so the foothills were noticeably empty and quiet. Plus, it was a cold and occasionally rainy day. Like an idiot, I forgot to bring a watch with me. I began the hike along a seemingly endless creek covered with trees that made the day even darker than it was. Along the path, I saw many Buddhist temples with women monks doing their daily activities. I'd been practicing the very strict method of praying at these temples and, after a while, I worked up the courage to give it a try. No amount of confidence can really prepare me for the awe of these solemn temples. I took my shoes off at the entrance and entered the dimly lit prayer room. There are lit candles adding to the mystique. I centered myself in the middle of a Buddha statue with a red mat at my feet. I was the only one in the room but I could see a Buddhist praying on the floor in the room next to me. And, as she watched me, I lost all composure and quickly went through the praying motions thinking less of the balance in the world and more of how I could get out of there without exposing myself as a fraud. From all outward appearances, I am more of a tourist in the temple than a true Buddhist, but it is exhilarating to enter those temples and bow to that jovial statue. I continued my hike and the only people I saw were coming down from the mountain. I had no idea how soon until nightfall, so I opted to run up the mountain and get as high as I could before the paranoia set in. Normally, I like to hike leisurely so as to take in the entire scene, but I was on a mission. Goal: Great Heights. Every now and again (I had no concept of time), I would have to stop to listen to my heart beat like Lars Ulrich's kick-drum. I hadn't been scrambling up for long before I was drenched in sweat. Eventually, my body was threatening to give up and the darkness was setting in. But I REALLY wanted to reach the peak, if only for a minute. I saw the orange staircase to heaven signifying the peak and I ascended.

After a few hours of Asian culture intake, we left in search of a hotel. I knew which hotel I wanted but, in an effort to test my Korean, I came unprepared and lost. Every ten minutes or so I'd have to stop someone for directions. Learning Korean hinders as much as it aids. After a few complete sentences, the Korean figures I'm fluent and begins to fire Hongul at a rapid, normal speed. Although I can ask the right questions, I can't understand the answers and I would usually resort to pointing. "This way? ->" "blah, blah, blah" "Oh, this way. <-" We walked for about an hour before we found the hotel, ate at one of the few open restaurants, had a drink, watched one of the old VHS the hotel offered (Cutting Class- staring a 12yr old Brad Pitt), ya da ya da ya da, and called it a night.

Stumbling into the Palace

I've known it to be true before and this weekend in Seoul reinforces my belief that the unexpected events in a vacation are often the most rewarding. Emily and I planned on finding the book store, but wandered into a chases festival at the Folk and Palace Museum. We saw an impressive temple hovering over the highway and decided we HAD to walk towards it. Inside the first massive gate were hundreds of Koreans dressed in their ornamental and colorful henpeck. There was a line of guards dressed in red cloaks with bright head-dressing. They remained motionless, austere, as families posed next to them for pictures. It's so refreshing to see Koreans acting like tourists in their own country. I read that this was the palace of a famous King some 500 years ago. Of course, everything had been torn down (including many relics) by the Japanese and they turned this land into a parking ground to suppress a rebellion. Thankfully, it had since been restored. These reminders do nothing to soften Korea's opinion of Japan but since much of their history was destroyed, pictures and writings of the past are all they have. We walked through miles of temples enclosed in a small wall of protection, I presume. We were allowed to peer through walls and see the simplicity of decoration and lifestyle. Judging from the homes I've been fortunate enough to visit, I believe they still live with much less clutter, utilizing the limited space the apartment affords. [Remember, the majority of people live in apartments. Most these apartments don't have couches or chairs- the people prefer to sit on mats instead.] The sun was brutal and I found myself pondering whether I really did enjoy the lack of consumerism in this collection of palaces. Everything certainly felt more authentic without Pepsi sticking his ugly face into the picture, but I was very, very thirsty.

A Yearly Bow

Chusok is only a few days away. This means a Swaton party (see the photos) and a mini-vacation for Daniel Teacher. Chusok is the Korean Thanksgiving but celebrated differently with more traditions than our own. Sunday, all the families will travel to wherever the grandparents reside. This is similar to our own but, in a country so dependent on public transportation, there will be no available trains or buses so I'll be stuck in Dajeon for a few days. Ok, Emily and I are planning on getting lost in a mountain for a day or two. Yesterday, we had our Chusok party and the children wore the traditional Korean clothing; the Hanbok. I was told they would, but I had no idea how cute it would be. I've seen older Koreans wearing the Hanboks going or leaving church, but this was something special. I really want to buy one but they're rather expensive (100+). Would ya'all like to see me rockin a Hanbok upon my return? I'd probably get shot in a minute. Anyway, on Chusok the families will visit the graveyards and bow before their deceased ancestors. I've been told this isn't somber though, it's more of a thank you. They have games they play (one is very similar to hack-y-sack) and they give gifts. Also, one student told me that women hold hands and walk in a circle around a tree. I thought this was odd, but, after further prodding, someone told me the entire story. Some 500 years ago, when Japan was invading, the Korean army was tiny compared to the Japanese and they wanted to do something to deceive the Japanese. They had their women accompany the soldiers, dance around and it worked, the Japanese thought they were a greater force than they actually were. Of course, Japan took over Korea in the end, but it's a nice story and it makes a nice tradition.

Here it goes again

Oh yeah, a quick Bears prediction. 5 and 11. Ouch, I know it hurts but we're going to need a miracle defense to do anything this season. Plus, I think Lovie Smith is a joke and, with a rookie QB and RB, the circus should be in full swing all season. The games are on at 2 am Monday mornings here, so I'll just have to wait till I wake up to read the outcomes. I hope I'm wrong.

Clash of the countries

I just noticed the date and thought I should first conduct a international moment of silence for dear America. It was four years ago today that we were knocked off our pedestal and we're still trying to regain balance...

Once gain, I've been given a healthy dose of perspective. As I had anticipated, having Emily here has allowed me to wipe away my theories about Korea and form them anew. I'm falling in love with this country again and falling harder than previously. Before she came, I knew that my Korean experience had been entirely positive but, with little previous travels, I could only compare Korea to my home- and that's not fair because just the word, 'home' implies a fondness unmatched. Unlike me, Emily has been everywhere (France, Italy, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Guatemala, El Salvador, etc.) so her opinion of Korea has a basis of comparison and holds more weight than my own. I was nervous about how Korea would fair against such formidable competition, but she loves it here! Her first few days were spent battling the intense jetlag that comes with crossing the Pacific. This week, we've been almost reliving my first few days but it's so different now. I can do things with a certain confidence now. Watching her face, I could once again feel the excitement that comes with this life: a beyond-capacity grocery store with go go dancing employees, a downtown gaze yielding 100 faces, every one of them Asian, the guilty pleasure of eating a 5 course feast for $3.50 (no tip) and, although this one never truly left, the constant admiring of the world's cutest children. I've tried not to bias her opinion as best as I could. It's difficult though because Korea continues to surprise and endear itself to me every day. I feel such pride and satisfaction when I hear Emily uttering the exact same phrases of praise that I did six months ago. Korea has stood up to Europe's ancient aura, and she's still standing.

Tree Garden

Once every month, usually on a Friday, we take a field trip. Yesterday, we packed up the kingergarteners and went to a tree garden in Dajeon. The children had been learning about trees and grass this month so the sights were good for vocabulary practice. But, as I've learned now, it doesn't really matter where we go, the children see this as a chance to be outside, free, and run untill their little bodies tire. After walking around the paths for a while, we found an open field and let them go wild. I always feel responsible for running and playing with them because I'm younger than the other teachers and maybe a bit more playful. I played hide n' seek, tag, raced, lifted and tossed until I was soaked in sweat.

Some say the end is near

This is dangerous water I tread, but I'm diving in. Like many of you, I'm sure, I've been watching CNN before bed and suffering sleepless nights. Having been to New Orleans, I am saddened all the more by the knowledge of what is lost. The city, as I experienced it, had the magestic qualities that so many speak of. This being said, I believe something sadder than natural disasters has come to light. In the wake of the destruction, seeing how we humans reacted to nature's fury, I could not help but feel that Mother Nature (Katrina) was vindicated. I know I share this feeling with others. With brethern lost, dying or grasping for life, the people of New Orleans celebrated the lawless ruins by re-creating anarchy- and it wasn't a romantic anarchy. There was nothing to rebell against and many died by the hands of their fellow sufferers. This is the saddest of all. And I agree with those who challenged the international community and accused them of abandoning us. The facts (receipts) are there to show that the US has responded overwhelmingly to other disaster-struck countries and the philanthropy isn't being reciprocated. Are our political follies of late enough to erase the many examples of goodwill? I'm sure Europe and the others underestimated the damage and our need. The most powerful country in the world can handle this without us, they thought. But, I'm thinking this isn't so. Through tragedies, misuse of power and now, disaster, the Empire is declining and we need actual help. I'm praying that this vulnerability might endear us to all those who, long-ago, decided we were not among the pack, the bretheren. The economy is in danger, oil crisis seems to be imminent and our collective naivity is over. At least, this is what the news tells me and, unless this is another fear-motivated media tactic, I will be watching attentively to see how we recover. With this international disapointment in mind, I was relieved to see goodwill donation jars in many of the downtown bars this weekend. I contributed and earned the right to criticize and expect better from the rest.

Standing on the edge...

I cannot ever describe this feeling, I don't think there's an author with enough lingual arsenal to capture my anxiety, but this is a blog, so I'll do my best. In a matter of minutes, Emily will call me from the 711 and I will run to find her. It's been over six months since I saw her, or anything else that reminded me of home, for that matter. I feel as if, until I see her face, this entire experience feels more like a joke, a dream than reality. There's no doubt her 2 and 1/2 weeks in Korea are essential, vital to my existence here. And this "vacation" will alter my view of Korea as well. Sometimes, something seems so thrilling to you, and you cannot impart that same excitement to a listening ear. This is often how I feel. Only when she observes the same manic city life, indiscernible tongues lashing out in unison, and the unique purity of children, will this experience be shared. She will be working at Swaton with me so the way is paved for a full cultural transfer. All that which my vocabulary cannot reach, she will see, feel. This is a healthy anxiety and I'm growing too nervous to type. I think I'll do this the Zen way and just picture our reunion in my head over and over until I'm prepared for its magnitude.