Meg Survived Japan!

First and foremost, I am alive!!!!!!!!! I seriously thought that Japan was going to kill me. I am deathly afraid of traveling alone in a country where I don’t know any of the language. I am rather comfortable in Korea because I can stumble through directions with the minimal Korean that I do know. But Japan… a completely different story, like Korea would be Green Eggs and Ham and Japan would be The Iliad in the original Greek text. Actually, once I got out of the smaller cities, communication eased up a bit. And, Japanese people are exceptionally friendly. I thought Koreans were really nice, but oh baby; every Japanese person I asked for help went really far out of their way to help a foreigner out. Maybe it was the huge sign I had on my forehead that said “I’m about to have an anxiety attack if I don’t make it to my train on time,” but I can recall about 14 situations where the rules were bent or someone went about 17 miles out of their way to help me. Color me the most appreciative shade of gratitude possible.

Mimicking my first blog post where I had anything and everything to write about, I’ll break this down into easy to find/read/browse sections.

1. Kyushu (the southern island that I explored with Kathy)

2. Hiroshima

3. Kyoto

4. Mt. Fuji

Interesting sidenote: I kept track of my different modes of transportation and I’m pretty sure the only one missing is a paddle boat. From start to finish (leaving my apartment and arriving back in my apartment) I took a total of:

5 taxis

7 trains

2 ferries

16 buses

4 cars

1 streetcar

1 bike

7 subways

2 scooter/moped/motorbike type dealios

Public transportation and cell phones are two things that Asia kicks our butts at.

1. Kyushu – is the southernmost 4 islands of Japan.

Moving on… So, I left my apartment last Saturday morning at the crack of 6:15 in order to catch the train down to Busan where I caught the ferry to Fukuoka in Japan. Everything went smoothly. I met up with Kathy that night in Kumamoto and we did what friends do. The next day we explored a little bit of Kumamoto, which is the small town where she lives and teaches English, charming little place. The first thing I noticed about the difference between Japan and Korea is that the buildings are shorter in Japan. Everywhere you go in Korea there are dozens upon dozens upon dozens of high-rise apartment buildings. Japan, I guess, is a little bit more spread out. Now, compared to America, everything is still miniature but Japan has just a little bit more elbow room.

Anyway, after that, we rented a car and took probably the most beautiful drive I’ve ever experienced around a small island named Amakusa. There is a small coastal highway that traces the edge of this island and we spent a good few hours following it. The land itself was full of lush green forests and outlined by steep tree-covered cliffs along the water. Breathtaking. The island was dotted with quaint little rural hamlets. We finally found a very small, very private beach where we enjoyed a dip in the water and watched the sunset over the water. Probably the coolest thing about the day was that on the drive home, we pulled over to the side of the road to stargaze for a good 15 minutes and the sheer number of stars we saw was staggering. It very much reminded me of clear nights in the Mile High city.

Also on the drive back, we stopped at a restaurant to grab some dinner. Neither of us is that picky so we just randomly chose a place where the lights were on. Looking at the menu, Kathy can read some Japanese and she keeps saying, “Fugu this, fugu that. What the hell is fugu? This is fugu something, that’s fugu something. It’s all fugu. What is this fugu?” So we ordered something that looked tame off the menu and Kathy looked up “fugu” in her iPhone. As luck would have it, fugu is blowfish… As in, the stuff you can die from if it’s not prepared carefully. Suffice it to say, we survived to tell the tale.

2. Hiroshima!

The next day I set off for Hiroshima.

I got into the Hiroshima train station and put my bag in a coin locker and went off around the city. There is a very large park along the river that runs through the city and there were zillions of memorials, statues, plaques and commemorations for/about the victims of the atomic bomb.

The Peace Memorial Park rendered me lost in an incredible mixture of inspiration, heartbreak, sadness and guilt. It would be a rare thing indeed if you saw a dry eye anywhere in the park. I am afraid to cheapen the experience with words of my own, but all I can say is that this beautiful city was once utterly devastated by the worst weapon that man has ever created. Instead of jumping to retaliation, the city has rebuilt, recovered and still stands as a modern beacon of survival. This city has become devoted to the pursuit of peace and the entire park is centered around the idea of dismantling these weapons. The Flame of Peace (couldn’t get a picture of it) burns around the clock and will only be extinguished when the last nuclear weapon is destroyed. To the right pictured here is the Children's Peace Monument. The top is a statue of Sadako Sasaki holding a folded crane in her hands. Sadako was a young girl who died of radiation from the bomb. She believed that if she folded 1,000 cranes, she would be saved. There was so much to see and I took too many pictures to post here, but track me down when I return to the States and I’ll be more than happy to share more.

After I wandered around the Peace Park for a few hours I headed back to the train station to meet up with my couchsurfing host. Now, some readers may need an explanation behind couchsurfing. Couchsurfing is a social networking website for travelers seeking a night or two of cost-saving accommodations. It works on a “give and take” principle, meaning that if you travel and use couchsurfing.org then you should offer your couch to other travelers who may need it. Now, since this was my first time using it and I pretty much planned my entire week of Japan literally days before I went, I have yet to “give” my couch to any travelers. But, it’s a great way to get off the beaten path, mingle with city folks, get away from the touristy places and see a bit of the real Hiroshima, or wherever it is that you’re traveling to. Of course, one has to be extremely cautious about safety and there is a system on the website that allows travelers and hosts to leave comments, references and feedback about fellow couchsurfers. I was very careful about choosing who my hosts were and I can honestly say I have zero regrets about using it. I recommend it to any adventurous, money-conscious traveler. It was especially helpful for me because I was traveling alone and being able to “touch home base” with someone who spoke fluent English was immensely comforting.

Anyway, my host in Hiroshima was a kindergarten teacher from Indiana (I chose a fellow hoosier on purpose) and was extremely hospitable, nice, clean, generous and so on. We ate a few Japanese dishes that I had not been introduced to. One was fermented soybeans called natto (spelling to be confirmed, but that’s how it sounds.) I’m not in any rush to have these again. It’s not bad, but it’s definitely an acquired taste type thing, like coffee, beer and salt and vinegar chips. We also had some spicy fish egg, and this was my reaction. Again, I’m not in any hurry to have that again.

I slept fantastically that night and woke up early to catch my train to Kyoto!

3. Kyoto! Famously recognized as the cultural center of Japan, Kyoto is saturated with history, culture, temples, shrines, museums, old buildings and cobble-stoned streets. The people in this city are so friendly.

I arrived in Kyoto and again left my bags in a coin locker at the train station and set off exploring. The picture to the left is the Kyoto train station. It was humongous. The stairs I took a picture of go up 12 flights; there was a stage there at the bottom for some sort of concert; there was a department store to the left there; and then the actual train station. My first stop was the information desk where an extremely helpful and fluent English speaking lady pointed me in the right direction. Now, before arriving in Kyoto I knew that I wouldn’t have lots of time, but that I didn’t want to overwhelm myself with whatever I chose to see. I had received a tip from a friend about something called the Path of Philosophy that goes between two temples. Back to Meg-ucation 101, would Meg pass on something called the Path of Philosophy? Enough said. So the path started at Ginkakuji Temple and meandered down south a bit, past numerous shrines and smaller temples, and ended at Eikan-do Zenrin-ji Temple.

Ginkaku-ji Temple, at the start of the walk, was sadly under extensive renovation. However, the grounds around it were still open. The Zen Temple and surrounding gardens are built into the side of a mountain. This is one of the most famous landscaped Japanese gardens and it was just breathtaking. Its sand garden is famous, and huge. Here are two pictures of the garden, the one that looks like an upside down bowl is supposed to resemble Mt. Fuji. The other is a wishing pond, the bottom of which was glittering with coins. The rest of the wooded grounds were covered in different types of Japanese moss, carved with little streams and ponds and outlined with a small wooden-planked walkway. Beautiful.

After spending about an hour here, I began the Path of Philosophy. It sounds more epic than it was. It is named so because a famous Japanese professor of Philosophy would walk up and down this path and just get really smart. Or something. I felt slightly profound after my walk, so maybe it’s true. But the treasure that waited for me at the end of the walk was by far the best part of my lone exploration of Kyoto.

Eikan-do Zenrin-ji is a Buddhist temple and there was no one else there. No one. Not a single tourist. This was phenomenal. Amazing. Awesome. Lucky. I removed my shoes before entering the maze of wooden walkways connecting about a dozen buildings and the woman who was greeting people told me I could go watch the Buddhist monks perform a ceremony. I said, “Wow, are you sure it’s okay?” She said, “Hai, hai. Go go. No sound and no picture.” So, timidly, I stepped into a massive one-room wooden building with thick, tall wooden pillars, incense burning, candles winking, golden tapestries and ornamentation and about two dozen monks. Their ceremony was like a perfected, well-rehearsed dance of low, restful chants, light methodic taps on gongs and perfect movement around this huge room. I watched for a while and then continued to explore the grounds completely alone with the monks’ chants accompanying me in the background. By far, this definitely was the best part of Kyoto.

My couchsurfing host in Kyoto is absolutely the most hospitable, generous, and sharing man. His name is Tomonori (Tomo) and he runs an English kindergarten, speaks fluent Japanese, English, Spanish, Italian and he’s learning Chinese. He also owns a backpacker’s hostel in Kyoto. That night we commandeered some bikes from the hostel he owns and rode to Gion, the district that’s famous for its really old, small streets and buildings. This is where people come to try and spot geishas too. And guess what, I saw one! She was gorgeous and moved like a swift breeze through a forest. I wasn’t too quick with my camera, but I’ll never forget it. This picture is Kyoto at night.

Tomo’s friend owns an antiques shop and this is the second coolest thing that happened in Kyoto. His friend’s wife let me try on an old-fashioned style kimono! Of course she picks the hot pink one, which as you all know is totally like omg my favoritest color of like, all time. Anyway, she was so nice. Extremely nice. Like suffocatingly nice. She kept asking me if I wanted her to buy me coffee or if I wanted her to find me a boyfriend. You know, typical hospitable nonsense. I did manage to get some good pictures of me in a kimono. I attracted a small crowd of passersby who stopped to stare at the crazy foreigner in a hot pink old fashioned kimono.

After I tried on the kimono, we went to have sushi for dinner. The fact that it was delicious goes without saying. It was incredible.

I slept fantastically on Tomo’s floor with a few blankets and a crazy textured Japanese pillow. It seriously felt like someone was constantly tickling my face with a feather that night. The next day we visited one of the more famous temples in Kyoto, the Kiyomizu-dera Temple. It’s one of the most famous Buddhist temples in Japan and in 2007 it was one of 21 finalists to be chosen as one of the New Seven Wonders of the World. It was beautiful but Tomo and I only had about 45 minutes to explore it and there were hundreds of school kids there on field trips. I still got some great pictures though.

Aaaaannnnnddddddd for the grand finale we’ve all been waiting for… It wouldn’t be a complete Meg-venture if there wasn’t some sort of hike involved. Go big or go home right? I decided to as big as you possibly could in Japan – MOUNT FUJI!

4. Mount Fuji! After leaving Kyoto, it took a train and 2 buses to get to the base of the mountain. Well, technically it’s not a mountain; it’s a volcano. I met up with my college buddy Dan and his friend Amelia at Mishima and then from there we took a bus to the base and arrived around 8:30PM. Now, you can imagine the planning I did for this. All I had was hiking gear that I’ve used in Korea. Dan actually researched recommended timelines and whatnot. As it turns out, we were supposed to leave in the early afternoon and get halfway up, stop, sleep a few hours and finish the hike the next morning in time to see the sunrise. You can see where this is going; I don’t even have to say it. We hiked the entire night. To be quite honest, the hike going up wasn’t that bad. Since we had decided to forego sleeping at all, we took our time getting up the mountain. We took breaks, ate granola bars, chocolate; at one point Dan and I got some ramen at one of the stations. Before we knew it, the path was thoroughly congested with other hikers who had been smart enough to stop and rest and joined us in the wee hours of the morning to reach the peak.

Once everyone emerged to join the hike, it was pretty slow progress. I got a smidge frustrated, but slow and steady wins the race, right? At any rate, we reached the top with about a half hour to spare before sunrise. I took about a billion pictures of the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen. Mount Fuji is 3,776 meters, which is over 12,000 feet for those of us non-metric Americans. I think being up that high and seeing the sunrise over a horizon that’s so far below you was incredibly breathtaking. This was one of those moments when I was reduced to childlike awe of what I witnessed.

The way down zigzagged through dusty volcanic ash and was extremely harsh on the knees. I actually thought the way down was much more difficult than the way up and I was breathing in all of the ash that people were kicking up. Most unfavorable. But when all is said and done, I looked back at the peak I had just conquered and I simultaneously felt uninhibited pride and humility.

The way home was a blur. I had to take 2 trains back to Fukuoka. Even though I left the mountain at around noon that day, I got into Fukuoka around midnight. The hostel I had made a reservation at had a midnight curfew so I was locked out. Consulting my trusty dusty Lonely Planet Japan, I found a 24 hour internet café where I paid the 1500 yen (about 15 USD) for 8 hours of internet, free food and beverages, a shower and if I had wanted to do laundry, there were even laundry machines! Quite the bargain. So I paid for my cubicle with a small bed and computer, caught up on some correspondence, drank some tasty pineapple-mango juice and got a few hours of sleep. I woke up early to catch my ferry back to Busan and then it was a peaceful 2 and a half hour KTX ride back to Seoul.

I highly recommend Japan to any traveler. But my caveats follow here: don’t rely on credit cards. If you go, make sure you exchange all you need before you enter the country. Japan has a cash based economy and it doesn’t take an Einstein to get used to how the money works. Secondly, traveler beware, Japan is the most expensive place I’ve ever been. I tried not to take any taxis, but I had to take one from the internet café to the ferry and a 10 minute ride was about 25 USD. Thirdly, learn the basics of the language before you go. I’ve said this elsewhere in my blog about Korea, but locals are far more likely to help you if you attempt to “participate” in their language and culture instead of just assuming the “visitor” role that many tourists embrace. This is one aspect of living in a foreign country that I will never stop preaching. Even if you are just traveling, part of respecting a different culture is attempting to understand it. Even just learning how to say “thank you” and “where is….” goes so far when you need to ask someone for help. This is the difference between being a visitor and a participant. Many Koreans don’t understand why I want to learn Korean so badly because everyone in Seoul can speak enough English to get me by, but that’s not the point.

Officially stepping off the soapbox.

Once I was back in Seoul Station, I found a taxi driver who was willing to drive me all the way to Jamsil and we started haggling about the price. At the end of it, he told me that my Korean was “bery good!” It was then that I really felt relieved and like I was back home.

Just a few gems that my students have recently produced. One from the infamous Greg, who deftly penned the pirate anecdote, and one is from Jina, probably the sweetest child in Korea. She consistently doesn't do her homework and pretty much the only reason she gets away with it is because she smiles at me.

A journal entry about what Greg has seen in the news:

I saw news. A world highest money watch were 2300000000 doller. I can't believe it. There are stopwatch timer. I wan't to bye it. But I don't have money like that.

I looked up at news. A adult is 51 cm. I saw it's real!!! It's real! He is 4.5 kg. Doctor look and said brain broke so his too short. He liked to sing and dance. I has amazing to see that.

And now a paragraph from Jina, the assignment was to write about someone who is helpful to you:

My helpful Person is Mrs. Megan. She have some earrings on her ears. Also she have long brown and black hairs. She have some freckles on her face. She have some brown eyes. She is from south Amarica. She is our english teacher. Mrs. Megan is strong. She has curly hair too. She is kind teacher and she is pretty and she is very cleaver person. I like her a lot!!!

In other news, I've been spending quite a bit of time on the football pitch. I've been having some dreams in English accents because everyone I play with is British. I finally scored twice last night in the season ending game of our Wednesday night league. Everyone I play with says "fellas" and "lads" and a few have now started calling me "fellette" and "ladette." Happy to be included says I. Although I love playing and I'm playing at every chance I get, it's been really challenging to hold my own out there. Reasons include but are not limited to the facts that: I haven't played regularly in ages, I'm the only girl on my team and everyone else is a few years older, stronger, faster and male. Nonetheless, I'm pretty sure I'd qualify as clinically insane if I didn't have this healthy release of stress.

I have also decided for my week of vacation at the end of August to visit a ladyfriend, Kathy, who is teaching English at a small school in Kumamoto, Japan. There is a ferry that goes from Busan (at the southern tip of Korea) to Fukuoka which is pretty close to her. Cost effective and hey, who doesn't like ferries?

Apologies for the scant post, but to all, I love you and miss you.

America, the Beautiful and MUDFEST!

Holy Crap! It's been a looooong time. Let's assume that I've apologized for and explained my absence from the blogosphere.



Now, on to the goody goodness.


Between the last post and today, a great many things have transpired. Not the least of which was a trip to the land where everyone speaks English and charades is not a prerequisite for communication, where you can walk into restaurants with your shoes on, where the national food does not look like someone violently slayed a cabbage, the land of Chipotle, and best of all, where I am just another average American and no one stares. How joyous! You can probably, and correctly, guess that I was more than ecstatic to go home for a treasured 7 days and see my family, friends and my nephew Alex. The flights from Seoul to Atlanta and then from Atlanta to Chicago lasted for about 17 years in Meg-time, but were thankfully uneventful and safe.



Sidebar: If you haven't guessed, I love America, however, it has to be said that America sometimes seems to operate on a principle of counter-productivity. Exhibit A: the Atlanta airport where there are menial tasks being done for no reason or purpose other than to waste my precious minutes in America. Upon arrival in the Atlanta airport, all international travelers (there were hundreds of us) had to go through a passport/visa checkline type dealio. Literally, streams and streams of people were lining up to get through this checkpoint. The hordes of people in line stretched out of the immediate waiting area, around the corner, down the street, across 4 tarmacs and all the way to Alabama I'm pretty sure. When I got to the front of the line, I found that there was no shortage of checkpoint desks, but there were only three open. Three. Out of about 40. America! After that I had to proceed to a baggage claim area, even though I was not at my final destination, go through customs where they didn't do squat to my bag and put it on yet another conveyer belt located approximately 20 feet from the first one. Yay exercise in futility. Luckily, I made it to my connection with about 14 seconds to spare. Thanks Atlanta!


I arrived in Chicago, safe, sound and exhausted. Mom, Dad, Chris and Hannah were there waiting for me and my eyes have never been happier to behold such a sight. After some leftovers from Ditka's restaurant as a midnight snack, I crashed hardcore in hotel-pillowy-blankety-goodness. The next morning we had a delicious lunch at Maggiano's downtown (savory meal in America#1; also, pictured to the right, me and Daddy on Father's Day), hit the outlet mall in Michigan City on the way home, got a flat tire (yay AAA!, also American, if you didn't know), and made it home for dinner with Annette and Alex, who is running and crashing all over the place. Booger be curious!

The remainder of break consisted of lunches and dinners at my favorite places around South Bend (savory meals in America #2-23, approximately). I visited the old stomping grounds on campus, went to the bookstore for the sole reason of buying The Shirt and discovered that it looks like someone vomited, ate peas and then vomited again. I stopped by FYS to say hi to Elly, Mrs James and the new front desk workers. I almost reverted back into my "First-year-of-studies-office-can-I-help-you?" ways when the phone rang, but then again, maybe not. I met up with good friends, ate good food, and even made it to Oyster Bar and Corby's.

I saw everyone I wanted to see (Pam, Marty, that most definitely includes you two, Ju, Bryan, Mike.) I ate everything I wanted to eat (feta, Chipotle, but not together, Maggiano's, Five Guys, Mommy's cooking *sigh* and more). I did everything I wanted to do (shopped for jeans because everyone in Korea weighs about as much as a toothpick, so jeans that fit my rather curvy curves are hard to come by and fitting rooms even harder to come by). I even went to Target and got shoes on sale! yay meg.

The flight back was direct from Chicago to Seoul and I made friends with a Chinese man next to me who was trying to learn Korean and English at the same time. Knowing what battlefields learning Korean as an American and learning English as a Korean are, I responded with, you are most brave good soldier; I tip my hat and best of luck to you sir.

Operation Visit America, Eat Chipotle and Smother My Nephew With Kisses: SUCCESS.

Now, back to Korea. Some have told me that culture shock doesn't really register when you first immerse yourself into a new country. Rather it hits when you go back home. Some say that you don't come back the same person to your native land and people expect the same Meg, but they get a different Meg. I don't know about all that, but I do know that returning to Korea after being pampered in luxurious Englishy comforts for a week was a bit difficult. I know that living here is challenging what with the whole not speaking Korean thing, but I discovered that I had grown very habituated to daily life being an uphill battle. It was not until I had gone home and subsequently returned to Korea that I realized how much I missed effing English. English that sometimes doesn't make grammatical sense, English-speaking people who get my terrible jokes, picking up bits and pieces of dumb peoples' conversations and having a private chuckle to myself. I am immensely enjoying my time here, but home is home and I don't think I'll ever belong anywhere else.

Joking aside, it's time for the serious stuff: MUDFEST. Read: literally a festival of mud. No, really guys, it's a festival of mud. A fest o' mud. Hence, mudfest. This wondrous event, it appears, was concieved upon the notion that if you make mud, zillions of foreigners will come play in it. And that's exactly what we did. We boarded a bus from Cheongju at 8am Saturday morning, by 1030 we were covered head to toe in mud and splashing around in the ocean. Besides the DJ Festival, best time in Korea so far. Literally, throngs of foreigners and Koreans come together and engage in mud centered activities. Painting yourself with mud, mud wrestling, mud obstacle courses, mud throwing, mud slides, and most important: MUD. Mudfest is held at (보경)Boryeong Beach and this little ocean-side town on the west side of Korea opens its doors and turns on its hoses for thousands of muddy, irresponsible young'ns. Oh, to be young and at Mudfest in Korea. Seriously if you're going to come to Korea, plan your vacay around Mudfest. Mudfest mudfest mudfest. Get the picture? (but really, the picture is of one Philip George Drendall with one polychromatic peabrain sporting not only mud, but a bonnet and dress as well.)

I was skeptical about how much fun it was going to be. The cost was a bit more than I was willing to pay and I wanted to make sure I got my money's worth. Let's just say I was reimbursed in fun-dollars with interest.

Besides these diverting activities, I've been teaching (DUH), playing some futbol (which is a subject for another blog post, perhaps very soon or when I happen to get pictures of my team), eating lots of kimbap and just living the life in Seoul.

Until next time lovers, friends and lovers of friends.

Acupuncture??? and Seoraksan!

Hello all! My, my, it has been quite a while. After a few requests of an update, this is what I've come up with.

Subheadings for your perusal ease: 1. Funny anecdotes, 2. Acupuncture, 3. The Adventures of Seoraksan

1. Funny anecdotes:
Creepy old drunks exist in Korea too!
So, being in Korea automatically elevates Americans to some sort of freak celebrity status. People stare at my light skin and light eyes constantly, everywhere I go. This of course is exacerbated when a bunch of Westerners are in a bar. I was in Cheongju a couple of weekends ago with some friends and we went out to a bar where there were darts, foosball and general diversionary indulgences. Somehow we managed to attract the attention of some sufficiently sauced old Korean men at our highly spirited foosball game. Now, I'll just come out and say it: I'm terrible at foosball and I never claim to be otherwise. However, the powers governing our merry activities graced me with some baffling foosball-savvy skills, but just enough to keep the game interesting. Eventually, it was more than evident that anything good I was doing was an arrant accident, which in turn, caused one of the aforementioned inebriated old Korean men to edge me off the table. I must also point out that I'm pretty sure the only word he knew in English was "Hey!" So, berated by waves of "Hey!" I ceded my place on the table and faded into the background to relocate with friends at another table... Only to find that 3 minutes later he.. surprise! had found us again at our new table in the bar. Unable to shake this cheeky bozo, we deferred to our Korean friend to tell him to leave us in peace. When this didn't work, he started yelling "Hey! Hey! Hey!" at me and emphatically pointing at random things in the bar. Despite repeated efforts to distract him away from us, we ended up just running away with an old man screaming "Hey! Hey!" at our trail of dust leading away from the bar. Good riddance.

This next story comes from one of my juniors' classes and it has to do with my 남자친구 or boyfriend. In one of our classes we were reading a persuasive paragraph about why kids in school should read Johnny Tremain. This life-changing paragraph was accompanied by a picture of Paul Revere riding a horse through town. This, clearly, screams Napoleon, or it does to an 11-year-old Korean boy.

"Teacher! Napoleon! He is your boyfriend!"

To which I responded, "Eddie, first of all, that is NOT even close to being Napoleon. You have the wrong time period and wrong country. Both forgiveable mistakes since you've probably never even had a history class. Secondly, Napoleon is dead, it is impossible for him to be my boyfriend."

"Teacher, it is ok that you don't have boyfriend. You are inexhaustible* romantic; you will find someone someday."

.... Thanks for the gems of wisdom Eddie. Everyone close their books. Pop quiz.

2. Acupuncture???

First off, I have decided to put my body through hell and train for a marathon this coming October so naturally I've been doing a good amount of running a few times a week. A few weekends ago, my foot started to bother me and it was around the arch of my left foot, which made me favor my right leg quite a bit. My director at school noticed that I was swagging around and suggested "traditional Korean medicine." And conveniently, we have a "traditional Korean medicine" clinic on the fifth floor of our building. Yahoo for me. So I'm thinking to myself, there has to be some semblance of "traditional Korean medicine" to "proven, scientific, legitmate medicine" and they're not going to kill me... right? so, why not?

So I head up in the elevator with my Director with me to translate and I'm led to a little bed made of heated, steaming tiles. They make me lie down and "relax." Before you know it, I've got needles in my foot, shin, right hand and head.

Now, it was all pretty tolerable.. except for the needles in my foot. (Sidebar: do you know why you're so ticklish on your feet? It's because there are about 17 bajillion nerve endings down there. End sidebar.) Can you imagine needles in your body? Stomach, back, thigh.. perchance, maybe, all right, perhaps, okay. Now, needles where you have approximately 17 bajillon nerve endings?!?!?!

To which I replied, "Expletive**! That expletive hurts!"

Here comes the comic twist: I actually found it pretty relaxing and therapeutic. I have no idea if it actually helps or whatever, but it was dirt cheap with my health insurance so I went back a few times. No big deal.

3. Seoraksan!

OK, here comes the fun part. Drumroll please: ..................... ANOTHER HIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before you stop reading, please advise: This one was no run-of-the-mill hike. Normally, it's pretty formulaic; ie., base of the mountain, find the path, hike, pictures at the top, and back down the way we came. go home. yahoo for meg. To this I heartily scoff, "Child's play! Couch change! Candy from babies!" You get the idea.

So, on the fly, Phil, Lucci and I decided to hike up 설악산 (Seoraksan). We made this decision Friday night. By Saturday morning at 7am we were on our way to the bus station to hop a 5 and a half hour bus ride to a town where we'd take another bus to another town where we'd stay the night in a minbok where we played hours of gin rummy where Meg was the sole contender for third place. I'm getting off track.

Anyway, we got the bus out of Seoul, no problem. But there was oodles of traffic to fight through and we made it to 양양 (Yangyang) at around noon-ish. We stopped for some lunch and then caught a bus to 오색 (Osaek), the town at the base of Seorak where we'd be starting from. The plan was to hike up Saturday, and stay the night at the shelter at the top of the mountain and then hike down the other side of it on Sunday. However, when we got there, there wasn't enough daylight to be able to finish the first leg of the hike that night. What was the backup plan? I'll tell you, eager reader: Find a minbok in Osaek, sleep for 2 hours, get up at 2AM and do the entire hike on Sunday.

buuhhh.... what?

It seemed like an epic plan doomed to epic failure, which for some epic reason was destined for success. That doesn't make any sense. I know.

The timeline is as follows:

1:47 AM- awake from our slumber, arise from our sleep, the new day is NOT yet dawning, and no one was weeping. (if anyone understands that, I'll give you a cookie.)

2:15 AM- leave minbok with eyes barely open

2:15-2:45 AM- wander around in the dark with tiny, but powerful, flashlights trying to find the entrance of the park

2:53 AM- commenceth the hike of death with about 50 of our closest Korean friends. Apparently we were not the only ones with the bright idea of getting to the peak to see the sun rise.

2:54 AM - Phil and Lucci charge ahead in lieu of being weighed down by the womenfolk. This actually turned out pretty well for me because I decided to keep pace with a nice man and his girlfriend for the rest of the way. We went pretty slowly but didn't take any breaks, save one where the woman gave me about a bottle and a half of 막걸리 (Makkeoli) which is an alcoholic beverage that hikers like to drink. It's not very strong and actually tastes pretty good. It's rude to refuse something that's offered, so I merrily accepted.

4:00 AM - The man I was hiking with explained to me that he was hiking slowly because he had injured his knees and ankles while golfing and politely inquired, "Why are YOU hiking slowly?" I had no response.

4:30 AM - He theorized that when I was young I got very sick and because of this sickness I had a smaller than normal heart, and that this is why I was hiking slowly. (nervous laugh/doubtful gaze...)

6:00AM - I reached the top! I found Lucci and Phil almost alive at the shelter at the top; ate some tuna and rice, rested for about a half hour... and then began the descent.

Now, the rest of the day was actually very pleasant and scenic. The 5km ascent was pretty steep, which is why it was so hard for me. However the 8km descent was just lovely. The beginning of it was almost straight down but before very long we were following waterfalls through a gorge the rest of the way down. I was dead tired, but I managed to take some pretty good photos and a video. You'll notice from the pictures that it looks as though someone doused us with buckets of water. We'll just pretend that's the explanation.

The way home was a bit of a blur; I was not even close to using coherent thoughts, speech or logic. It's two days later and I'm still in a haze. Nonetheless, let it be known that I, Meg Paladino, conquered Seoraksan, crippled by a smaller than normal heart by a debilitating childhood disease and plagued by Korean alcohol! Against all odds, I took some damn good pictures!

Greg's Story

A story from one of my best students:

Me and my friend is subordinate. When we was going to look for tresere land, one pirat said "A land! A land!"We were suprized because we saw an land at 9999,9999 days. I was so happy. But when we arrived tribe come and killed captin and my friend. I was so sad but we need to go so we goed. Finally we found real tresear land. I founded that first. But I don't gave people. Finish.

Things I Miss About the States

My dear readers, it has dawned upon me that if my blog is your only source of what the score is in the game called "Meg's Life" then you most likely think that I spend all of my time hiking and teaching. Admittedly, this is not a bad guesstimate. I do enjoy the time I spend on the mountainside and I love to share it with you! However, another hiking post would just be bore-0-rama. "Oh great, she went up a mountain, oh look a picture of pollution. How wonderful, a picture of a sweaty, tired Meg."

I have realized that I've left out my favorite part of my posts, the part where I talk about things I miss about the states.

We begin with T-9: Now, for anyone reading this post who is over eehhhh say, 35 years old? You might not know what T9 is. In a nutshell, T9 is little man who lives in cell phones who magically finishes words that you start typing in a text. For example, if you wanted to type the word "cosmic," you start hitting 267624 and somewhere along the way, the little man figures out that you want "cosmic" and he finishes it for you! This little man has the entire dictionary memorized and when used correctly, he's a brilliant timesaver. He's also only brilliant, I imagine, in English-speaking countries. My cell phone here in Korea knows Korean as its first language and the little T9 man is nowhere to be found. But what can be found is a frustrated Meg struggling to see what's on her screen and quite deliberately hitting the wrong buttons on her Korean cell phone. A text that took me 15 seconds to type out in America now takes me about a year.

Waiters: The food industry here is so different than in the states. First, there is no tipping, which I've discovered to be mostly fantastic. I say mostly fantastic because when you take tipping away from the playing field, you also remove the motivation for extra-ordinary service. In America, it's all about the eyes. You have to catch your waiter's eye and go from there. In Korea, it's all about the "YOGIYO!" "Yogiyo" means "here" in Korean. You literally yell that to get someone to come over to your table. At first it was a bit jarring to just see people yelling at the wait staff. I don't know if I'll ever be completely comfortable with it, but it's not as odd now. Koreans also aren't too big on beverages. Cups for water are itty-bitty and they never give you refills unless you do the "YOGIYO!"

Not being stared at: I know, readers, I know. I've mentioned this about 17 times. The fact remains; I will never ever get used to being stared at.

Salad: Salads here are like Fazoli's interpretation of Italian food. Pathetic. And you don't even get free breadsticks.

Root beer: Actually, the soda here generally tastes better than in America. I think I've heard that it's because they use better sugar to make it. I have no idea if that's true, but it sounds legit. But soda choices are limited and my favorite soda that makes me feel like I'm still 11 years old is nowhere to be found.

My nephew: Little booger just turned 1. and he has teeth. I canNOT believe I'm missing the chompers.

Spring at ND: I realized that one of my most favorite feelings is waking up and realizing that the winter freeze is over and the thaw of spring has been working its magic on Notre Dame's campus. There is nothing quite like walking down North Quad to Tom Petty blaring out of someone's dorm window and joining your pals playing frisbee or juggling a soccer ball. Being able to don short sleeves and shorts, or seeing one of your friends racing to class on a scooter just makes you feel like Bookstore Basketball is in the air.

Things I do NOT miss:
Allergies: Seoul is roughly comprised of about 80% concrete and 19% pollution, which leaves approximately 1% for anything that could make me sneeze. Meg's allergies are pretty severe so my sinuses are in heaven over here.

I leave you now with a video that I took of my kindergarten a few weeks ago:

Dobongsan

About a month ago (I know, timely blogging, Meg!) I went for a nice little hike with Sarah at Dobongsan, which is a mountain in the same range as Suraksan, just a little north of Seoul. You can see Suraksan from the top of Dobongsan. It was a crisp 50 degrees and zero chance of rain, a perfect day for a little hiking. I went out in my oh-so-lame hiking “gear” of course attracting skeptical up-down gazes from expertly tricked out Korean hikers. I feel like a rookie in the big leagues, still using the baseball mitt my dad gave me and all of the veterans are chuckling to themselves, “I wonder how long she’ll last in those… (snicker snicker) New Balances. Ha ha ha! Let’s watch!”

But really, Koreans who you find on the trails of mountains are the nicest ones you come across. Everyone in the city is always on task, has an agenda, has to be somewhere, busy, important and most importantly, busy. Everyone’s checking their cell phones, yelling in Korean, shuffling around to make sure they’re on the right bus, subway, or stealing taxis and the best part is, they all do it in heels. But out on the mountain, even though you feel like you’re in the middle of a hiking apparel fashion show, you find the people most willing to say hello, ask where you’re from, if you like Korea, if you like hiking, etc. If you’re wondering where all the friendly Koreans are, they’re all hiking.

Anyway, as mentioned earlier, Dobongsan is in the same range as Suraksan and it’s really close to the city so all we had to do was take the subway there and walk to the park. We stopped at the information desk to get a trail map and the woman mapped out a trail for us that took us up to one landing and past a temple.

The temple was absolutely breathtaking. It sits on a cliff that is nestled into a fold of the mountainside. I’m really hazy on the details of the temple but I do know that it is Buddhist and just absolutely beautiful. It was about halfway up the mountain and there was a “grotto” type place that you walk through to get to the actual buildings. There were tons of candles and people praying. There were three buildings, that I could see, and a very big balcony with a “ceiling” of lanterns above it. Sarah and I were nervous about disturbing solemnity of it so we didn’t take too many pictures or linger for very long. We stayed long enough to make wishes and toss coins into a fountain and then we moved on.

The rest of the hike was pretty uneventful. We reached a vista about ¾ of the way up the mountain, rested, and ate some kimbap. The top was similar to Suraksan, just bare-faced rock with a metal railing to hold onto in order to teach the top.

The last 100 meters or so were precariously steep and there were a few people who were warning us about ice on the rocks. At the time I was young, foolish and invincible so I charged on. Sarah was wise, cautious and sensible and didn’t make it all the way to the top this time. But! We went again the weekend after and she was determined to make it up the last bit, and she did. Yay Sarah!

All in all, Dobongsan is one of my favorites. It’s easy to get to; there are many different trails to choose from and it’s as easy or hard as you decide to make it.

Hiking in SK!

The geography of SK is pretty mountainous and South Koreans love hiking so much that they’re married to it. But seriously, the hiking here is really popular and South Koreans are the best dressed hikers you will ever see. They all look like ninjas powering to the top with their expert hiking gear. Most are really friendly and they all like to chuckle when they see an American hiking in tennis shoes and a long-sleeved tshirt. This picture to the right is the view of Seoul from the top of Suraksan.

I've been up three mountains now, one is called 송리산 (Songnisan) and is about 2 hours outside of Seoul by bus; and the second is 술락산 (Suraksan) and located in Seoul about an hour away from me on the subway; and the third is 도봉산 (Dobongsan) which is in 북한산 (Bukhansan) National Park right next to Suraksan and you can read about Dobongsan in the next blog post.

A big group of us went to Songnisan from Cheongju the night before we hiked it. This was a few weeks ago I think. It’s in a different province about two and a half hours out of Seoul. We took a bus into the little village at the base of the mountain and found a nice little minbok to spend the night in. A minbok is comparable to a hostel in that it's extremely affordable, but it's basically just an extra room in someone's house. We ventured off the beaten path and wandered around until we found it. I think I was spoiled in my first minbok experience because I'm pretty sure this was the most clutch* minbok ever. It was a big room with a heated floor, two huge wardrobes full of blankets and pillows (no beds, so we all slept on the floor), a TV and a VCR which I wasn't sure still existed after 1998 and more than an ample amount of terrible American VHS tapes with Korean subtitles. If memory serves, a couple of the treasures were Sister Act II and Roadhouse with the Swayze.**

Sunday morning, we woke up at the crack of noon and began the journey. The walk up the to where the hike starts was interesting. I saw lots of families, people selling hiking gear on the side of the street, street food vendors and lots of kids running up to us yelling "Hi! Bye!" which I've now grown pretty accustomed to. It's now really unusual if that doesn't happen to me in public. The best part of it was simply the fact that I wasn’t surrounded by pavement, concrete, neon lights and people trying to sell me a cell phone. There were actual trees! Grass! Granted, it’s too early for there to be any significant growth, but seeing dead trees and grass was enough to give my spring-loving hope a kick in the ribs. At the base of the mountain is a famous Buddhist temple called 법주사 (Beopjusa) and many people come here to pray. This picture of the big golden statue is part of Beopjusa at the base of the mountain. The statue is gilded with 80 kilograms of gold. The atmosphere at the base of the mountain was very solemn and respectful. However, once we started the hike, I witnessed quite the egregious 180-degree turn.

The hike itself starts about a mile or so from the village at the base and I'm not even going to try to sugarcoat how it went: Meg. Got. Her. Butt. Kicked. Big time. Our group was four guys and two girls and the two girls were quickly abandoned behind. I was more than exhausted when we made it all the way up. I think it took us about 2 and a half hours to reach the top, but ooohhhh boy, once we did, it was absolutely breathtaking. I think I took about a zillion pictures; I've posted a few of the better ones here. This picture is of my friend Chris buying our tickets.

Now, describing the hikers who we were sharing this beautiful mountain with is going to be fun and herein embodies the aforementioned “180 degree turn.” Think of the tiniest Korean man you've ever seen. Then give him some tiny Korean friends. Put them in black ninja gear and give them backpacks about 10 inches taller than their heads, huge hiking boots, rosy cheeks and then feed them lots of alcohol. That's your average fellow hiker on these mountains. Evidently, it's pretty normal to go hiking with one or two buddies and once you reach the top, you share a few (read: 17) bottles of soju. For all of you curious readers, soju is Korea's interpretation of vodka. It is weaker and tastes a lot smoother than actual vodka, but makes you feel like death the next day. To everyone reading this who I call Mom and Dad: this information does not come from personal experience. I hear tell of this mystical beverage but have yet to partake, so rest easy.***

Thus concludes the part about Songnisan and we move on to Suraksan.

Suraksan is a mountain located in Seoul, quite a bit north of me. I met up with Sarah and Phil and we took the subway to the base of the mountain. This one wasn’t nearly as steep as Songnisan so Meg did not get her butt kicked. It was a beautiful day, just a bit chilly. About three quarters of the way up the mountain there was a woman selling popsicles from a cooler and I may or may not have professed my undying love to her. I told her that we would be back after making it to the top and that she’d be giving us our victory popsicles, of which I’m sure she understood diddly-squat. Suraksan is near the northern edge of Seoul, so there was only so much I could see through the pollution. Nonetheless, a pretty remarkable view of the city.
Captions for these three photos:
The first was taken from the top of Suraksan and it is a temple that sits atop another peak of Suraksan. The foggy mountain behind that one is Dobongsan, which I hiked with Sarah just this past weekend.
The second is of me and Sarah before we started the hike of Suraksan. And the third is Sarah trying not to fall down the mountain. Pretty much the last 100 meters of Suraksan was just barefaced rock with a rope guardrail to hold on to and pegs hammered into the rock to step on. Not for the Average Joe seeking a leisurely stroll.

It makes me laugh how seriously Koreans take hiking. I mean, they literally all traipse around decked out in the sharpest North Face gear they can find, huge hiking boots, walking poles that look like cross country skiing poles and backpacks full of goodness knows what. Their backpacks are stuffed, but I’ve never seen a Korean with anything but kimbap, water or soju on the mountains. I feel like the best way to describe Koreans is that they’re always dressed as if they are ready for a spy photographer to pop out of the shadows and just start snapping away. Decked out head to toe on the street is one thing, but even when they’re exercising, they just look dapper as ever. This explains why they look at me and just think I look as silly as a baby holding a newspaper.

* Clutch - used to describe situations that have the potential to completely disintegrate but somehow become exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. For example, one might overhear during football season: "We snuck in 14 bags of marshmallows and just when everything started flying, this usher comes over and puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Excuse me, young lady." I turned to see what he wanted. "You dropped this," he said as he handed me a bag that had dropped out of my sweatshirt. Totally clutch." (Also, to the ones I call Mom and Dad, not a personal experience. People talk. I hear things.)
**Patrick Swayze, nicknamed “The Swayze,” (pronounced “sways.”)
*** wink! But really, it’s a death sentence.

An Elite Update

IT WAS 72 DEGREES IN SEOUL ON SATURDAY!

Anyway, hello friends and family! It certainly has been a while since my last post. My apologies; I've been putting in a lot of time at Elite lately. We officially opened the kindergarten on March 1st and since then it's been a non stop debacle around the office. A simple word of advice to anyone thinking about working abroad for any period of time: In addition to the language barrier and obvious speedbumps that you will encounter along the way, keep in mind that much like the variance between cultures, there are also differences in managerial styles of different countries which will no doubt frustrate your socks off. For example, there are three "secretaries" working at Elite and each one has a different job but none of them know what their actual duties are. This leads to a lot of confusion about who has superiority in certain situations and who is supposed to do what. And to add to the chaos, in South Korea there are strict social hierarchical undercurrents that have to be taken into calculation whenever you're in a situation with people of different ages. To add to the muddle, my interim director speaks pretty terrible English and she exhibits no teaching experience, which I would think should be two dealbreakers when you're hiring someone to run an ENGLISH SCHOOL. But hey, let's just hire wrenches to throw at our teachers, that seems to be the theme in Korea. Lesson learned: bring lots of socks.

Now, kind readers, I don't want you getting the wrong impression about my experiences in SK. The actual kids I am teaching are precious, adorable, a joy, wonderful, smart and always nonstop entertainment, if nothing else. Starting with the Kindergarten, let's play a game, raise your hand if you can see Meg Paladino being a kindergarten teacher. If your hand is raised, you need to go back to Megucation 101. The idea of me teaching kindergarten is like imagining a cat trying to sit in a rocking chair. I've got no idea what I'm doing and I basically just make up how to keep my balance every day. I thought this would be a bad thing at the very beginning, but as it turns out, if you are patient, funny and are willing to make a complete buffoon of yourself teaching Big B to little munchkins, hard work pays off. This week, my kids successfully read their first words in English.

Buh... Ahh... Duuhh. Ok, put it all together! "Teacher! Bad!"

Most of the kids already know the alphabet, but reading and sounding out words is foreign (haha! get it? foreign? cuz it's English!) to them. Pretty awesome and rewarding to see them forming words from letters.

You also need a certain "roll with the punches" attitude. This past week I had a kid put a booger in my hand. She evidently picked her nose in class and wanted to share the fruits of her labor with me. "Eacher! Eacher! Yogiyo!" (read: Teacher! Teacher! Here!) I totally lost my "Kindergarten teacher" facade and ran to the bathroom to wash my hands.

Moving on, teaching the older kids still remains to be the high point of my day. I have six classes and three private lessons. Obviously, you are always going to have a kid here and there who just wakes up wondering what he/she can do to just really push Meghan Teacher's buttons. But more often than not, they're good kids who make me smile every day. Even though I am putting in a lot of hours the most difficult part of my day is dealing with my director. The kids themselves are little Asian bundles of joy who sometimes do their homework.

Pictures of my students are on the way.

Spending a Day with Kids from an Orphanage

This post is dedicated to mothers and fathers.  Stop panicking, you haven't forgotten Mothers' or Father' Day; and no, I'm not jumping the gun.  This post, more specifically, is dedicated to my mother and father.  (insert collective "aww" here.")  The definition of foreign is "strange or unfamiliar," and nothing is more opposite from foreign than your own parents.  This is not as non sequitur as it appears and here is why:

Last week, my school played host to about 20 kids from an orphanage in Pyongtaek, a city close to Seoul, for about four hours.  These four hours made me laugh, almost cry, gasp in shock and basically jolted me back to recalling a few different memories.  My interim director's church is very involved with this orphanage and a few times a year each child is matched up with a mother and her family and spends a few days with them.  This time, she decided to volunteer the services of her English-speaking employees and had us "teach" them English for free for a few hours.  This quickly turned into how much can we think of to distract them from beating each other up.  Two teachers from another branch of Elite joined us and we spent every minute of the four hours either completely overexaggerating the gestures of "head, shoulders, knees and toes" or breaking up fights or playing rock, paper, scissors.  I will elaborate on a few of the more poignant moments of this experience.

First, this brought back memories I didn't even know I had of when Annette, Sarah and Hannah came from Korea.  I was itty-bitty back then, but I do remember a bit of what it was like when they came.  Along with finding a new friend in "My-Age" (what I called Annette when she arrived), I remember the rough, aggressive and possessive tendencies.  And I saw all of the same last Tuesday.  I am guessing that these kids were between 7 and 12 and I've never seen kids more rough or scrappy.  They fought continually over the smallest things with not just loud screams, but with hits, punches, kicks and slaps.  If the Paladino kids had a tagline throughout their childhood, it was, "Hit NO! Geeeennnnntttllllee" and this is where it came from.  

Secondly, their concept of possessions is utterly redefined from ours.  We had a snack time and it was like seeing a ham hock thrown into a cage of starving rabid hyenas.  There was no sharing and a lot of "Mine! Mine! Not yours!"  Survival of the fittest appeared to be the only governing principle.

Lastly, what really struck me was a girl named Jiwoo who was 11 years old, the same age as Daniel*, the boy with whom I worked very closely during my summer in New Orleans.  Backstory: Daniel is an incredibly sharp and bright boy.  He was a resident of Boys Hope Girls Hope, the academically focused group home that I was a proud and fortunate intern/member of for one summer.  Daniel joined BHGH because a family friend recommended him for the program after he was found going door to door asking for canned food for his family.  At the time, Daniel was only 7 years old and the only hearing member of his family.  The point of me sharing this is that not just Daniel, but most kids who don't have a steady, stable and loving family environment often easily cling and attach themselves with surprising ease and eagerness to anyone who gives them attention.  Daniel was a huge part of my life that summer because during the months I was there, I was a motherly figure for him.  This young girl, Jiwoo who came to Elite last week, clung to me for the duration of the four hours like I was home base.  It was amazing that all I was doing was laughing and playing rock, paper, scissors with her and in the span of those four hours she reached out and touched my heart in such a unique way.

This, my good reader, is why this post is dedicated to my parents.  The absence of my safety net for 23 years became so real last week as I was spending time with these children who have no parents.  They behaved with no fear of punishment and as if they had no hope for a better future.  My wildest imagination could never conceive of such a mindset existing in my own head, which is a reality that I will boldly blame on my parents.  It was like someone threw a bucket of ice-cold water at my head and I realized how close I was to being in Jiwoo's place, clinging to anyone who gave me attention.  Suddenly, a reality that I have been living with for 23 years gave me a kick in the ribs, was redefined and a profoundly deep appreciation for my parents settled in.  For those of you who know me well, you know my parents are amazing people and I am who I am because of them. Thanks Mom and Dad. oh, and Happy Birthday Dad.

*Daniel is a fictitious name given to protect his identity.

Seoul Tower

Greetings readers!  My, my, it has been quite a while.  There is much to tell and little time before my eyes start to droop and I find myself asleep with my face on the keys.

A few weekends ago, my friends, Amber, Tiya, Rachel and I decided to visit the famous Seoul Tower.  Seoul Tower, also known as Namsan Tower, is a tall communications construction on top of a mountain in the middle of Seoul.  It stands a little over 2,000 feet above sea level and gives a spectacular view of the city at night.  The pollution is too thick to enjoy anything during the day, a sad reality, but the view at night is breathtaking.  We met up at a restaurant at the base of the mountain and had some delicious bulgogi and bibimbap.  Then, we caught a cab to take us up the mountain and apparently we were pretty lucky because the taxi driver told Tiya that cabs were not allowed to take people up the mountain unless they were foreigners.  So, for once I found myself more useful than a Korean.  The road up the mountain winds around it a few times and we finally got all the way up.  

One pretty interesting tradition that is observed at Namsan was nauseatingly adorable.  Let me explain.  Couples hike the mountain together with a padlock.  There is a fence at the top that guards one of the observation decks and once they make the hike they put the padlock on the fence together.  The hike symbolizes the long journey and the padlock is the permanence of the relationship.  There are thousands and thousands of these locks on this fence.  I say "nauseatingly adorable" because this was right before Valentine's Day and I was, yes shocking, without a Valentine.  But, nonetheless, the fence was quite a sight to see.  Literally, thousands of locks all with love notes scratched on them were on this fence with an amazing view of the lights of Seoul just beyond them. Pretty amazing.

There was also a laser show, but it wasn't as cool as the fence.  

Lotte World and Gyeongbok Palace

Lotte World:

Chuck E Cheese* is where a kid can be a kid; Lotte World is where adults can be kids.  This gem, located just one subway station away from me, is absolutely humungous.  Let's begin with the basics: 

a grocery store

a JCPenney-type store

a bigger Nordstrom's-type department store

3 food courts that I'm aware of

dozens, and I mean dozens of shoe, purse and clothing stores

a replica of the Trevi Fountain (not really a basic, but it's still there)

Inquisitive Reader: Well, Meg, that's pretty standard, what's so special about Lotte World?

Meg: Ah, young grasshopper, try these on for size:

an ice rink

a bowling alley

arcades

movie theaters (that's plural, not a typo)

a bookstore

Still Doubting Reader:  All right, above average at best, but is this really worthy to be mentioned in your golden blog?

Meg: Yes. For this reason: Lotte World, in addition to being your one-stop shopping spot for groceries, clothes, books and a stroll around the ice rink, also hosts the largest indoor theme park, an outdoor amusement and water park and the whole shebangabang** is connected by a monorail.  It's a playground for grownups!

Convinced Reader: Wow, I wish I had a Lotte World down the street from me. 

Meg: Not all of us can be Meg.

Gyeongbok Palace:

This past weekend, Phil and I went to one of five palaces here in Seoul.  Gyeongbok has a grisly history that doesn't accurately reflect its name.  Gyeongbok means "shining happiness" in Korean.  The palace was built in the 1390s and originally, the complex had hundreds of buildings.  During Japanese occupation in the 1500s, it was burned down.  It was

rebuilt in 1865 only to be to be torn down again in 1910 and, again, by the Japanese.  What stands now is a reconstruction in progress that began after WWII.  The front gate is called Gwanghwa-mun, seen here to the right.  After passing through the main gate, one crosses a courtyard to the biggest wooden structure still standing in South Korea, Keunjeong-jeon.  Keunjeong-jeon served as a royal throne hall.  We could walk right up to the entrances but could not step inside.  There were quite a few authentic artifacts inside the hall, like pillows on the floor for secretaries to the king.  There are three pictures here, the outside, the inside and the

 ceiling.

(If you have a magnifying glass, I'm sitting on the stairs of the first picture.)

Next, we saw Kyeongho-ru, the largest pavilion in South Korea.  It was used by the king to entertain visiting dignitaries.  It is supported by 48 stone pillars and surrounded by a man-made lotus pond.  Kyeongho means "joyous meeting" and the pavilion is still used today for special occasions.  I imagine my pictures would have been better had there been leaves on the trees, but now I have a reason to go back.  

The last building to be noted is another pavilion, much smaller than Kyeongho-ru, called Hyongwon-jeong.  This pavilion is hexagonal shaped and is two stories tall.  It was often used as a place of relaxation and meditation by the kings.  It is built on an island in the middle of a pond with a narrow bridge that connects it to the mainland.  Below are two pictures of it.

Things I miss about America:

-the International House of Pancakes

-Grass.  Space is a commodity here in S. Korea.  There is not any spot of land that isn't being used here and an absence of space means civilization reaches up into skyscraping buildings.  Every inch of space is occupied and treasured, which necessitates obsessive and unwavering efficiency here.  But at the same time there probably isn't a word for "spacious" in Korean, and if there is, it's quickly falling out of their vernacular.  To add perspective, explaining the word "lawn" to my students was incredibly difficult, because there are no lawns in Seoul!

-Super Bowl Commercials.  I've managed to see some online, but it's not the same as watching them live and laughing while my face is covered with wing sauce.

-Street signs.  Besides the only signs here being in Korean, there just aren't that many street signs here.  So, even if I did have a map, I'd still be cazed and donfused most of the time.

-Not being stared at.  I know, reader, I know. This was in my last post, but I've been here two months, and I still hate being stared at.

-Bigger shoe sizes.  When I walk into a shoe store here, I waste no time and go straight for the rack with the biggest shoes.  Who would guess that a 7 1/2 would be Sasquatch-sized here?

-Driving.  I guess not using public transportation while I was growing up made me irrationally selfish with my modes of transportation.  I intuitively itch for a mode of transportation that I don't have to share with strangers. 

And now I leave you with three videos taken at Gyeongbok Palace.  I'm not sure what they are or why they were performed, but it's not your every day experience. Enjoy!

*A masochistic parent's paradise.

** Shebang - (noun) the whole enchilada. Shebangabang - (noun) superlative of shebang (enchilada with rice and beans).

My First Month in Seoul

First and foremost, I must sincerely apologize for being so slow with getting my blog going. I know that some have been clamoring for pictures and updates. Between teaching, adjusting to jetlag and coping with the everyday struggle that comes with living in a country that speaks a different language, it has been difficult to put all of this into words.

Apologies aside, I am safe and sound in Seoul. I arrived not only after months of delay, but also after spending more hours delayed in airports than actually traveling. However, one might conjecture it was worth the wait because somehow the gods smiled upon my poor soul and I flew the 13 hours here first-class from San Francisco.

There is so much to tell, so to create a "reader-friendly" blog, scroll for headings of topics you might be interested in.

My Apartment:

is located on the 10th floor of a 20 floor building that is literally a stone's throw from the Olympic Park in southeastern Seoul. It was fully furnished when I got here which means a bed, table, chairs, tv, tv stand, bathroom, shower, laundry washer (no dryers in Korea), a gas range stovetop, a small convection oven and basic cookingware.

The tv gets basic channels, nothing fancy. This translates into: I have turned it on twice since I have been here and once was to see if they were broadcasting the Inauguration. TV in Korean, while entertaining in its own right, just isn't the same. I have a magnificent view of the apartment building next to me and off to the side is a pretty neat view of Jamshil-dong, my neighborhood.

My bed came with a comforter that says "Cozy Room" on it, and I'm doing my best to make it so. Also, to anyone who will listen, I will sing the praises of the heated floors here in Korea. They are without a doubt the best thing to happen to mankind since Michael Bolton.* My toes are never cold anymore, which actually was an issue for me and it's incredibly efficient and affordable. My co-worker, Bethany, lives up on the 12th floor and her aparto is exactly the same as mine but with a view of the apartment building on the other side of us. All in all, I am really happy with my aparto, and with each day that I return from work, it's starting to feel more and more like "home."

My Neighborhood:
is called Jamshil-dong and we are directly east of the Olympic Stadium/Park. The street that I live on is internationally themed with different flags from all over the world displayed in the median. There are also Olympic themed statues and art sculptures close to me.

Behind my aparto is a little maze of streets that harbor a slew of restaurants, bars, clubs, stores, boutiques and an outdoor market.

Each day I walk home through the market and I see something new. You can buy anything you could want fresh from vegetables and fruits to poultry, seaweed, fish and octopus. And then you turn the corner and find such western wonders as Outback Steakhouse, McDonald's, Coldstone and Baskin Robbin. Every few hundred feet there is a clothing store or a shoe boutique that serves as a friendly reminder of my skinny wallet.

The Subway:
is amazing. Public transportation in Korea vs. America is like comparing ER with and without George Clooney (Korea being on the side of George). I live about 5 minutes from the nearest subway station, Sincheon, which is on a line that goes in a loop around the city and connects to every one of the other 8 subway lines. The subway is extremely navigable, reliable, affordable and I love it. I was nervous at first, but after using it more than once, anyone can become a pro. It costs about 900 won per ride, which is roughly 60 cents. I’ve been down to Cheongju to visit Phil a few times by bus. There is a bus station across the street from the Gambyeon subway station, which is just 3 stops away from me. The bus costs W6000 ($4.50) each way and it runs about every 20 minutes. The highway reserves the center lanes of traffic for buses so the trip is never impeded by traffic congestion.

My school:
is named Elite Education Institute.
It is a new branch of the larger Elite web that has sites in such cities as Bangkok, Ankara, Tokyo, and a slew of branches in California, Texas and even Canada. Elite is famous for SAT preparation tutoring in both the states and here in S.Korea. Since we are a new branch, there have a few speed bumps getting started, but the winter intensive session is almost over and the next semester will begin soon. The students I am teaching now are between the ages of 7 and 15 and they are non-stop entertainment. I really don't feel like I'm "working" at work because my job basically is to speak to these kids in English, and besides that they are both hilarious and eager. I have a class of boys in which one, Jason, quite the hooligan, asked me to be his girlfriend and when I call on him to answer questions he just smiles and says "teacher! so pretty!" when he doesn't know the answer. After I told him I wouldn’t give him answers on a test, he broke up with me. Another boy, Matthew, has twice now brought in pastries for me, once when he was late for class and again when he hadn't done his homework. I’m not quite sure if he actually thought that bribing an American with tasty treats would work.
There is another teacher with me here and she started only a week before I did. Her name is Bethany and she is from the Chicago area. She is extremely nice and we get along great. It’s really nice to know that I’m not the only struggling American here and to have a partner in my Korean adventures.

Sample of one of my students' writing:
This student will remain anonymous, but this story brought more than a few smiles to my face and I'm sure you will have a similar reaction.
There were 25 people who want to go to space. 1 test 5 person out. 2 test 7 people was out. 3 test 2 people was out. 4 test 5 people out. Last test 3 people was out. There were 3 people left. In the Bangkok there has spaceman. Today was spaceman go to space. They go into spaceshuttle. 1 man was very important. 2 man is important. 3 man is not important but good.
When it was started they were hard to stand. It was almost space. 1 man saw out winder was fire. When they go to space they don’t believe that they come to space, but when they were out, 1 man died so 2 man do very important and 3 man do importent thing.
They called another people and do, not importent thing. When it was over they were almost in the Earth. When they come Earth they saw 1 more time fire. They go ground and people cheerd.

The food:
Like public transportation, is done right, all the time. I loved Korean food before I came here and now I love it so much we’re getting married. There are so many types of Korean food and it would be hard to describe them all, so here are a few of my favorites.

Kimchi is fermented/pickled vegetables, usually cabbage and flavored with red chiles. There are many different kinds, all with varying vegetables, spices and tastes. It is served with almost every dish here. Koreans are big on side dishes; there are about 3-5 small side dishes that come with every meal in a restaurant. Another favorite food is galbi. Galbi is also referred to as Korean barbeque. It can be beef, pork or chicken and the restaurants have little grilles or hot slabs on which to cook your meat in the middle of the tables. The meat itself is marinated and the meal is typically served with about 70 thousand side dishes. That’s an exaggeration, but it comes with dipping sauces, slices of garlic that you can grill and eat, vegetables, kimchi, seaweed, tofu, fried bread, leaves of lettuce and much more. It’s almost like Korean fajitas. You take a piece of the grilled meat, put it on a leaf of lettuce, add whatever side dishes you want and fold the leaf over the bite and enjoy. I apologize for not having pictures of it, but when I do, I will post them. It’s a really fun meal with friends. Lastly, another go-to favorite that is both cheap and delicious (insert distasteful joke here) is mandu. Mandu are little dumplings stuffed with beef or pork or kimchi or vegetables. They are very similar to pierogi or potstickers.

Things I miss about the States:
-Walking on the right side. Even though most Koreans just go wherever, however, whenever they want, if there was a shadow of a governing principle here, people walk on the left side. Sense of “personal space” here is quite different than in the States and there are no qualms about bumping into people, shoving them out of your way on the subway or playing sidewalk showdown.** I’m pretty sure everything except tackling is accepted here.
-Chipotle.
-Simply put, being able to communicate with other people. It’s very difficult to communicate effectively because of the language barrier. I am slowly learning simple things like how to order in a restaurant and how to ask for the bathroom, but each time I interact with someone who doesn’t speak English it becomes an issue of how much I am willing to play a tiring and and oftentimes unsuccessful game of Charades.
-Not being stared at. There are very few Americans in South Korea and the people here are not accustomed to seeing white people. More than once I have been stopped because of my light eyes and hair. Sometimes kids come up to me and say things like, “Hi! Bye! What time is it?” just to show how much English they know. Once when I was walking home an old woman came out of a furniture shop and stopped me and just pointed at my face, astonished at my light eyes. She kept saying, “pretty eye! Pretty eye!” And then she had her husband take a picture of us with his cell phone. I have also played peekaboo with a youngster in the mall while I was eating. Children stare unabashedly at foreigners, it was novel at first and now it's just annoying.
-Lunchmeat.
-Cheese. (yes, separate from lunchmeat. Feta and mozzarella, 2 of my favorite things in the world, besides 35 cent wing/4 dollar pitcher night at Legends,*** are very rare and expensive.)
-Obedience to traffic laws and pedestrians having the right of way.
-Taco Bell.
-Wearing sweats in public. Literally everyone here is always dressed to impress. Women are always wearing heels and carrying designer handbags. I don’t think men here have ever heard of “jeans and a t-shirt,” and there are more than 3 men who live in my neighborhood who I’ve seen carrying Louis-Vuitton manbags. Even mothers at the supermarket with babies A: have no baby weight from being pregnant and B: are wearing 4-inch heels.
-My friends and family. (1, 2, 3... aawww.) When plans were demolished to join Phil in Cheongju, I don’t think I realized how difficult it would be to make friends in a city full of people who don’t speak your language. I have managed to visit Phil in CJ three times since I’ve been here, which has been really fun. But my hopes are high for when Sarah comes to join me, which should be pretty soon!

In conclusion, I really miss everyone who is reading this blog and if by confusion you are reading this and I don’t know who you are, if I did know you, I probably would miss you too. Please update me with how you all are doing. I really miss seeing everyone!

* Underappreciated pop-star of the late 80’s, early 90’s. Arguably his best contribution to humanity is the smash hit of 1990, “How Can We Be Lovers (If We Can’t Be Friends)?”
** Sidewalk showdown is mode of amusement, popular among myself and Bryan Stanistreet. Simply walk at someone instead of avoiding his/her path and see who yields first. Different tactics create varying degrees of entertainment. Head down and a fast pace is the most boring. Direct eye contact and a leisurely saunter offers many different reactions. Absolutely try this at home.
*** Probably the best-kept secret at Notre Dame, aside from if the Irish Guard wear boxers under their kilts, every Tuesday night Legends runs a special: 35 cent wings and 4 dollar pitchers of domestic beer. Hop to it, young'uns.