Only, it wasn't a dream

So, after I break my foot falling out of the bathroom in the "special nore bang" on the "special step" that magically appears when you expect to put your foot on ground, I ate a live prawn and took another step toward being Irezumi Ona before we ventured to the psychadelic rock festival in the woods where paintings express eternal love and oneness with everything while Sato Yukie rocks out with his fox tailed bandmates and the next morning walk down a mountainside farmer's trail to a bus stop near flower beds, and am picked up by a friendly japanese man on the way...it's too bad my friend broke something in the back seat...and then we went to the minbak in the valley and I played H-O-R-S-E, but we stopped at H-O-R and I was winning.

We went to the train station and on the way I left my friend on the side of the road but we found each other at the train station and I didn't know where I was going and couldn't move because my legs wouldn't work and I cried and wanted to be alone, but it was too late, I wasn't alone anymore.

After a week of silence, I got on a train and then took an elevator to the 37th floor. There was an empty apartment and a tiny dog who scratched at my astro-turf green cast and begged to be held. I held her.

Soon after, I chopstick-picked up octopus tentacles with the suckers still suckering to the plate, then they suckered to my teeth and tounge, but it was nothing compared to the wriggling prawn-legs of the past, so I liked it and ate another. We went to FUZZY NAVEL and watched a lady make BLUE SKY and set them on fire. 2 cups were drained with straws while alcohol burned blue flame. We decided to sit outside and a man came to disturb our peace so my friend broke a potted plant over his head and I asked him for my bag back and then we went and hid out at the gangster's house until we were sure we wouldn't have to slip out of the city unnoticed. After dawn, we were sure we were fine except for my friend's maybe broken hand and slept for a few hours before getting back on the train to the quiet town.

I spent another week speaking slowly and then went to the city where I could speak quickly and a REGGAE PERM was performed, but not on my head. On my head were 6 eyes and feathers, and I hopped to reggae music, and misplaced an umbrella cane before singing lullabies with my voice multiplied. In the morning I was back in the place where I speak slowly but communicate.

and I called a friend.

It seems like it was dreaming, but I'm not asleep, and it wasn't a dream. It was a run-on sentence.

PROOF

I Un-Quit

Day 240
I take back the "I must leave within a month" notice that I had given my boss. Actually, the conversation I have with her is "I would like to finish my contract, if that is still possible."
The conversation she has with me is more like "will you stay longer than your contract? Maybe not? Okay, will you come back?"

We conclude that I will be here until September, perhaps October, then I run off to join Owen and Lindsay, a couple of my English-speaking companions, at the Hof. We somehow join forces with 5 or 6 Koreans and change booths, then establishments. A woman in the group is my fitness center buddy. There is much enthusiasm about meeting the next evening for pocketball.

Highlights from Days 241-246

Rain prohibits monster hike.

I am a recipient of fine dining, some wining, and gangster phone for 2 months.

A pit-stop in an outdoor market under black netting and colorful awnings, the likes of which I hadn't seen - grains, vegetables, live seafoods, meat. All usual, but there is something special about this one.

A moderate hike including:
a full creekside dinner which emerges from backpacks Mary Poppins style.
a detour through a bamboo stand to a small waterfall and pool where the ladies take off their shoes and wade while most of the men go for a full dip.

The arrival of a beautiful letter, perhaps from the highest post office in Asia, has the other teachers asking why I'm so happy all day.

The purchase of a practice amp and mic cord will probably drive my neighbors crazy, but make me very happy. I try to keep polite hours - generally sound happens from 10am-12pm.

My missing phone and ID card return to me after approximately 2 weeks. How? Who knows. It's Korea. In any case, I am ecstatic.

Sun Young's prediction of changing luck comes true. There is more rain and new flowering trees constantly come into season.


** Forecast Fox is currently telling me that Friday will be a Sunny -999 °F

One Month to the Day

What's the news? well, let me think...

- Paik Nam June Gallery in Yonggi-do provides a revitalizing music/art experience. Bulgasari at Yogiga Gallery in Hongdae, Seoul, sustains the revival for an extra day.
- Costco pesto makes me sick and quesadillas are all I eat for a week after a visit to Seoul.

- A new crowd of foreigners move into Gimcheon and we invade the Bowling Alley for an evening meet'n'greet.

- Buddha's birthday rolls around and with it come colorful lanterns, free bibimbap from temple volunteers, and a stroll through lovely Jikji-sa.
- Books arrive from the states and are devoured by me.
- The refrigerator noise continues to grow louder by the night.
- A bicycle some might have considered semi-abandoned is stolen. (I didn't consider it abandoned. I thought it could take care of itself.)
- I join a gym and flail around to K-pop with very coordinated middle aged women.

- A long weekend leads to the loss of several important items and a trip to Busan, a port city on the southeast coast of the Korean peninsula.
- The daily evaluation of pros and cons of breaking contract and leaving early begins to get pretty weighty in the pro-go column.
- A return trip to Busan, a search and rescue attempt on my foreigner ID, is a failure in one respect and a total win in the "random adventure" category.

THE RANDOM ADVENTURE (in short)

After failing to obtain my ID from the hotel I'm sure I left it at, I go to the beach for people watching and evening sun. I also happen to find 3 Korean rasta-reggaes spinning records on the walkway. I seat myself near them to observe and listen...a kitemaker is showcasing his wares with a tiny dot in the sky.

- I befriend the reggaes
- I am offered a new phone in exchange for English lessons. Let's call it "gangster phone"
- I go hiking with and am dubbed girlfriend by a tattoo artist and his friends.
- I have an interesting night out with Koreans...kind of the first time for a Korean night-on-the-town.

BACK TO REALITY...

- I give my boss a month's notice...she asks for two.
- I consider taking back the notice and staying for the duration of my contract after a major issue to be dealt with turns out to be virtually unsolvable, regardless of the country I'm in.

That brings us up to date. Basically. Stay? Go? Any input? Lately I've been feeling that my life is a series of short stories that have no common link aside from the fact that I'm a central character. Korea has pushed these stories further into the realm of surreality than I'd forseen. Someday, Someday maybe you'll read them.

. . . and on, and on . . .

Day 197

Flashback to Christmas Eve: I'm sitting at a table with kimchi pancakes, moccoli (traditional rice wine) I don't need to drink, and a co-worker, and a friend. We've already had more soju than I anticipated and I'm not too excited about the moccoli. I excuse myself to go stand outside for fresh air, and when I come back, there is a red-faced man in a shiny pin-striped suit, smiling, nodding, smelling strongly of cologne, and pouring moccoli into my bowl.
"I saw you and, you know, I just want to speak Eng-uh-lish with you, you know? Is that okay, I blah will blah not blah take blah a blah hint..."
Young Mi and I exchange "who the hell is this guy??" looks, and simultaneously raise eyebrows at Ted, who has invited him to sit down, assuming that the man knew Young Mi. He stays with us for quite a while. I think of him as "Bluster Man"

Flash forward three months: shiny pin-striped suit man Bluster Man is sitting at the desk across from me. He is the new teacher at the Hagwon. Now we will be talking alllll the time.


Day 200

After Korean class in Daegu, I invite my friend to the Kitty Cafe. With a fennec fox in the window, grown cats lazing about, and siamese kittens playing 'round our feet, we sip banana shakes and eat lunch.

Follow this with hunting for strange parks filled with cherry blossoms, wandering the herbal medicine market on a slow day to find stuffed fanged deer cousins in windows near an albino mongoose fighting an albino snake, and there's my day, basically.





Plus the fox thing in glasses...


and a very convincing rice-cake octopus.


In the evening, another friend serves as my guide on the bus to the University district. We meander the campus amid blossoming trees of varying sorts, and sit at a park bench. It's amazing how familiar the smell of the Student Union cafeteria is. We finally complete a full circle of the campus. The final building we pass is called "Useful Building". It is spelled in a brick pattern on the side.

Day 201

I spend much of the afternoon harvesting wild mugwort from the bank of a lake outside of town. The sun is out, and a kind breeze keeps us insect-free. There aren't many, but I've noticed that they're coming. Oh, they're coming.

This week's reading has been (in order of appearance): The Red Dragon, The Exorcist, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Not my first choices. In fact, I've been avoiding reading the first two all year, but my options in English literature are severely limited. Donations of the published kind are happily accepted.

Where In the World is Carmen San..I mean..Candida Pagan???

Well, to answer that question, I am in The Bywater, in New Orleans, Louisiana. The past week has been spent here and there running errands, making phone calls, sending messages. Previously, I was in the suburbs: family emergency time. A pretty wild time.

DAY I CAME INTO THE CITY

Sitting with "The Nose Knows (TNK)" girls at a meeting spot in the Treme, we order beer and each receive a free styrofoam box of crawdads with a corn cob and a turkey neck. While attempting to unlock the mystery of "the mudbug", I try to:
1.) figure out an order of protocol for errands I must do tomorrow
2.) absorb this new atmosphere

By the time I finish, the ladies of TNK have finished their pages for the weekly zine. It is good fun. Good fun, indeed. For a copy of TNK, email nasalknowledge@gmail.com or write
The Nose Knows, PO Box 19483, New Orleans LA 70179

So many things are different than they have been over the first week in Louisiana. First of all, my general environment feels secure and caring rather than intimidating or threatening. That's a plus. My father's close friends are back in Texas and I took my mother to the airport this morning. I was very sad to see them go, but I am among other friends now. I also have clean clothes again. I have been so busy and under so much stress, that I adopted the "cycle the dirty clothes you're wearing, and no one will notice" policy. Of course, that's not totally true. People notice. Even I notice, but let's just pretend, shall we? I did laundry today, anyway. Those days are over now. AND, no more rental car, which may be a good thing, as I did slightly damage the car I had. Slightly. It's back to a bicycle and a borrowed truck, for me.

DAY I WRITE THIS POST

"Candida! What is going on?!? Why do you have so many errands?? Why are you being so cryptic??"
Well, sweet readers, if I seem more cryptic and less accessible than usual, it is because a very painful event has happened. I encourage you all to make advance directives, make a legal will, and although it may seem morbid or uncomfortable, share these wishes* with your loved ones.

Soon I shall return to Korea to resume teaching my loose-toothed students, and making my special tea, and climbing my mountain. In the meantime, I am here, running into friends I haven't seen for years and waiting for the mail. Attempting to navigate the weird world of those who survive their loved ones... blocks from the Mardi Gras Zone.




*The 5-Wishes Booklet is a simple living will document that you can fill out at home and with signatures of two witnesses, is legally valid in 40 states and the District of Columbia. Just so you know.

Return of the Numbered Days

Day 125
After waiting over the weekend, I go see Bruce, the Traditional Medicine doctor at the clinic near my home. Unsure of a diagnosis, he sends me downstairs to someone who specializes in Physical Therapy and stroke patient rehabilitation. This someone speaks English well and has wanted to meet me. According to Bruce, this is good for me, good for him.

Day 126
Nothing special, really.

Day 127
Morning tea follows a stroll on the mountain. I am inspired to wake early.
i n s p i r e d
Cloud-cover in the sky looks as if it could be the top of an ocean; the city below, on the bottom of the sea.

Day 128
"Accupuncture? No? No accpuncture, okay. Then what? I don't want to take pills if I don't know what they are." Bruce the Traditional Medicine doctor puts me on the phone with several of his 'specialist' friends. I'm not sure what they specialize in, but it doesn't really matter. Bruce has already referred me to someone who told me to take medication for a (possibly) pulled muscle.
"I think he likes you. hmmmmm...I think you are a very smart person to not take pills." Bruce told me when I showed him his friend's recommendation.

Regardless, Bruce has turned me over to someone else's care. He doesn't seem to feel comfortable taking charge of that care again. But he cannot bring himself to treat me unless I try at least one dose of the medication. He cannot undermine his colleague. "Maybe you eat the pills once and you will be better. I think that is it."

He invites me to lunch without telling me that lunch will also be with the dentist downstairs and another doctor from Seoul. I get another "Pills are okay, eat them," speech from Dr. Seoul and the dentist is so shy about his English that he can't bring himself to look at me....until he discovers we are the same age.

By the end of lunch, Bruce has convinced me to set the dentist up on a blind date with a teacher at the Hagwon. At the Hagwon, it is business as usual; I set up a blind date, I teach some English, I accept my DongWong Tuna Seollal gift pack, I catch the bus. I come home at the end of the day to a surprising email.

Day 129

I spend an absurd amount of time in front of the computer wearing a madonna mic. I am alternately moving the microphone away from my mouth so I can make exclamations and adjusting the mic so the listener can hear my probably-too-soft voice. Pink plug-in Green Plug-in Microphone Headphone. In the morning, I am transferred from one office to another as an attempt is made to purchase a plane ticket online. The mission is finally accomplished and I steel myself to face a day of Pre-Teens on Friday.

In the evening I find myself pacing the apartment, sitting down, standing up, pacing some more, putting the mic on to make a skype-call, forgetting to take the mic off after the call is finished, realizing that the mic is still in front of my face as I absentmindedly twirl my hair. In a non-linear turn of events, I will be taking advantage of the National Holiday time coming up in order to visit the USA. The visit will last longer than the holiday, and the circumstances are quite the opposite of joyful, however, my answer to the question "What are your plans for Soellal?" is no longer a shrug of the shoulders to accompany "Mo lai yo".

Un-defeatable Plan for Jet Lag Defeat
No sleep for "before flight" night: stay awake! Write. Clean. Shower. Pack. Write.
The goal is to sleep over the Pacific and wake up over California to be wide awake upon landing. I can't really sleep, anyway, so I may as well pretend it's intentional.
Defeat Being Beat!

This is my self-cheer. Koreans have a special kind of cheer. It is this: They clench a fist, and do a 1/4 fist pump in the air and at the same time say "insert name here, fighting!" It can be considered appropriate for nearly any situation. Spirit Lifter. Class running wild? "Lindsey, fighting!" Feeling blue? "Jane, fighting!" Coach put you on the bench? "Anna, fighting!" Kind of great, right?

Day 130

1. Car to Gumi
2. Airport Limousine" Bus to Incheon
3. Airplane to USA: The Rocky Horror Picture Show will be singing "Time Warp" in my head as I fly for 19 hours through 11 time zones. Maybe I'll get lucky and that will be the in-flight Entertainment.

CONTINUED...

...Hiro notices people starting to climb the stairs and line up at the bell pagoda. He looks at Hideki and I before giggling again and skipping away to sprint up the stairs. We follow shortly...
We climb the stairs and watch the stage-crowd for a while. We are freezing. As part of two (soon to be three) shivering rows of people, we are surrounded by a unified chanting. Midnight is drawing near. For maybe five to ten minutes, the chanting continues and then the countdown begins. Stage lights flash a new color every second as we count down from "SHIP" to "GONG!!!"

Fireworks flash!!! CONFETTI!!! STREAMERS!!! Simultaneously, the huge bell is struck with a log swung by important monks and local politicians (they take turns giving the bell 13 strikes), AND a serious loudspeaker system blasts a triumphal symphony, to announce the New Year's arrival. We are all one year older.

As quickly as the burst of energy erupts, it is dispersed into the fresh New Year air. The die-hards among the crowd are atop the stairs and I find myself being hearded with them toward the entrance to the bell's housing. Military men are barking at the crowd and push/pulling them through the roped-off entrance eight at a time.

I feel a particularly sharp elbow from one side and hear a faint continued chant on the other. I look behind me to see a group of 4 feet tall grannies chatting trying to make their way to the gate. I attempt to shield them from the elbows and shoving as we are pushed ever-closer to the Seokguram Bell. It occurs to me at this point that I have lost sight of Hiro and Hideki.

As I am realizing this, I also realize that I am at the front. The grannies shove past me and are through the entrance. Hideki is shrugging at me as he walks out, and the soldier herding the crowd looks at me and says "OKAY?? YOU UNDERSTAND???" I nod and follow the women to the mini-battering-ram which serves as a bell striker. Together we strike the bell , now singing without symphonic accompaniment and are rushed away. Bewildered, I scan the crowd for my scarf, and finding it, weave my way out of the crowd.

The three of us seek the shelter of Seokguram Grotto. In order to reach it, we must follow the lantern-lit path. Snow and the dusty path are underfoot and muffled, cheerful groups make their way up the mountainside.
Reaching the top, I cross paths with the grannies again. One performing her bows while another prepares to do so. She is caught in her backpack and I help her out of the tangle. Seokguram, I must say, is magnificent. Wholly beautiful. We stay inside the statue's housing for a time, then head out into the dark. I want to stay. I want to descent to a warm tent and stay until sunrise.

My resolve to do so is strong. Then I look over at Hiro. Shoulders hunched, he hops from loafer to loafer, his bare hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looks back at me and grins. Hideki cocks his head to one side and asks "Are you going to stay until sunrise?" I smile and nod. He and Hiro exchange a quick, surprised, pained look. "Really?" I understand then that they consider it their duty to stay as well. I suggest going to the warming tents. Walking in to one automatically puts us in line for warm bowls of ddukguuk which we accept and eat standing near as possible to the heater. Another 20 minutes later, we head down the mountain and return to the Hostel.

Library Time
Two days later I am in the Gimcheon Library for a 5 hour study session. I discover that that is the thing to do in Gimcheon. There are rooms, previously unknown to me, filled to capacity with studious youth.

At Gimcheon Mac-chang
An orange vendor, an ommuk/fish bread man, and a foreigner walk into a Hof.
The orange vendor says something and the forigner hears: "waeoirjawe;lajsdf;lkdseyo?"
the foreigner nods and says something and the orange vendor hears: "asl;kerja;oiewjr ;kasdflkjdsa?" The ommuk/fish bread man nods and glances up to make sure the crowd at his cart is putting money in his "be right back" box before he pours a healthy round of soju.

Soon the three are laughing with the owner and his wife. Everyone hears "sal;kja;oihedf; seyo? ANNEEYO! eego eego aljdsf;jas;a!!!" and they all laugh again and again. The orange vendor finally puts down his glass and looks at the foreigner's bike to ask if it will be ridden home. The forigner shakes her head emphatically. "nowaeflkasfwalkdafjofjbikeaskdfjjajang!!"

She tilts her head from side to side and lightly stomps her feet to let them know she'll be walking. This brings another round of laughter and "walaslkjhas; anneyonhigesayo anneyonheegaseyo!!!" Goodnight goodnight and I hope your headache tomorrow isn't too terrible.

The Un-Numbered Days

Special Coffee (or tea)
This all began when I made afternoon coffee for a friend. He, shocked at how it was actual coffee, not the instant mix so often found in homes and offices, dubbed it Special Coffee. I have taken to preparing "special tea", i.e., any tea that is not from a teabag, for us frequently. Sometimes he brings oranges or an individually wrapped cookie snack pack. No romance, so scratch that thought. It's nice company and a good way to finish the day. Somewhat similar to my homeland habits. Thus far, Rosemary-ginger tea is in the lead. I am open to suggestions.

3 days in Gyeongju
Solo SSAM BAP in the Knick-Knack Room
I arrive in the ancient city, Gyeong-ju, in the evening on Dec. 30. Alone, I first locate the bus station where my tour begins in the morning. I then proceed to give myself a walking tour of the Tomb Park area, hoping to find the restaurant that Lonely Plant says is filled with an "Eclectic collection of birds, rocks, figurines, pottery, and other folk arts..." Although unaware of exactly what Ssam Bap is, I don't really care. I just want to be in that atmosphere. So, I walk. And I walk. I come across many things: an ancient observatory, an eerie ice-house, a tempting path into the forest, a series of canals and wooden docks, a royal pond...but no such restaurant.
I pass a place along the way that piques my interest. There are two large masks on the outside, and as I pass, I notice that the rear windows of the building are filled with plants. I redirect my route from Lonely Planet's map to my own mental map and re-find the building. It is indeed a ssam bap restaurant, and I go inside.
First I pass traditional drums, then a closet sized room filled with stab-bound books, a piano-esque instrument, and plants. Then comes the antiquated machinery...spindles, mills, farming implements. Finally I reach the area where I must de-shoe. I place my shoes among the others and step into a room filled with mid-20th century newspaper clippings, stamps, postcards, old etchings, mini-masks, fishing gear, china plates, a spoon collection, plants, and on and on and on. I had ordered for one when I entered the room and I arrange my things while I am served. First, the leaves; one plate steamed, the other raw: lettuce, sesame leaves, chard, seaweed, and cabbage. Next come the soups; two kinds. Then the side dishes. One after another, she set dishes in front of me, until there were perhaps 16 side dishes on the table. I sneak glances at other customers in order to figure out how to eat this feast. They take a leaf and lay it in one hand. With their chopsticks, they scoop up some rice, a side-dish or four, and place it inside the leaf. Setting the chopsticks down, they fold the leaf into a little package and place the whole thing in their mouths. I follow suit and eat my fill.

In Hanjin
That night I find Hanjin Hostel. As I walk in, an old man beckons me into the room behind the glass. I enter to see that he is warming his knees in front of a heating fan. He motions for me to sit down on the blanket next to him, and I do so. He then hands me 5 or 6 photo albums. "Photos," he says, "Look," then turns on the TV. I spend the next 45 minutes flipping through pages, watching him age with each new album. At one point, he erupts with laughter, and I look up at the TV to witness members of Parliament leaping over tables, fists clenched, murderous looks on their faces. One man is caught by the ankles and dragged through a hallway out of Parliament. Another is carried by his arms and legs, furiously thrashing. This is almost as good as the time I was watching TV at E-Mart, and saw them chopping through a chained door with a full sized ax. Korean government seems to be rather dramatic. I'm not sure what they're so upset about, but the old man next to me is definately getting a kick out of it. Soon, I ask about getting a room and am shown upstairs.

Candida, the Midnight Bell Ringer
New Year's Eve Day passes without incident. I go on a bus tour of Gyeong-ju, and see the major sights over 8 hours. There are three other foreigners on the bus and we are seated together. Two of the three girls are visiting their friend who is teaching for a year in Daegu.

I return to the Hostel and take a nap. I wake and attempt to solidify my plans. I want to visit Bulguksa Temple at midnight for the bell ringing, and then sojourn to Seokguram Grotto to see the sun rise over the East Sea. I have been told there are buses, so I must find one. While I sit in the common room, pouring over my guidebooks, two Japanese men who are staying down the hall come upstairs. One sits down on an opposite couch and motions to ask if I mind if he smokes. I let him know I don't. Through gestures, visual aids, and simplified English, I tell him of my plan.



10 pm - He and his roomate decide to join me, and soon we set out in search of a bus. We search, only to be informed that there is no such bus. Two Korean tourists, eager to practice English, invite us to share a taxi. I get the front seat, and the price is nearly the same as the bus would have been. Fortune i smiling. Upon reaching the Bulguksa parking lot, we are told that Bulguksa is closed, but there is a free shuttle bus to Seokguram. The three of us decide to see for ourselves, and traipse up a moonlit path to the gates of Bulguksa. Trees line the path and dot the hillside as we approached a chained entrance. Hiro, in his white loafers, starts to hop over the chain, but halts and gives a sheepish bow to the security guard on duty. He giggles his way back to us, and the three of us start back along the path to the shuttle buses.

11:30 pm - We step off the bus in front of a trailer where people are handing out hot ommuk in bowls of broth. To our left, a stage is set, and a rock group is performing. Wind is blowing, snow flurries, hair and artificial smoke whip around the faces of the rockers. "YEEEAAAAHHHHHHH YEAH ooohhh yyyyeeeeEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!"

We join the huddling mass of people. As the rockers finish, three monks take the stage to deliver speeches and motion to the large bell in its housing, some 100 meters past the stage and up the hill. Hiro notices people starting to climb the stairs and line up at the bell pagoda. He looks at Hideki and I before giggling again and skipping away to sprint up the stairs. We follow shortly...

. . . TO BE CONTINUED

Reconnecting in....3....2...1

Day 116

Today is computer buying day! I check my bank account and discover I have not been paid.
Today is not computer buying day. I head to the library to meet Ted and his cousin. I text "Kate" and ask if I can cash in that rain-check for the library tour she offered last week. 3 hours pass without a reply and Ted is nowhere to be found. I track him down in the computer lab then head to the stacks. Maybe I can find something of interest in the Art section. I am immersed in a Korean Embriodery book when Ted sends me a text message: "it's time for lunch where are you??"
라
I go to meet him on the second floor. Where is Kate? he asks. 모라요 is my reply.
mo lai yo. It's a frequently used phrase...ranking third after "annyong haseyo" and "kansamnida".

I don't really feel like staying for lunch. I'd prefer to sulk my way home, but Ted talks me into having a spicy soup with him and his cousin. After lunch and confusing but amusing conversation with the two of them, I leave the library. I am walking on the bridge over train tracks (the second longest walking bridge in Asia, I later learn) when I see Myung Hee. She asks if I have had lunch, and I have, but I tell her that I will join her while she eats. She is currently staying in Daegu, but has come back to Gimcheon to tutor students for the weekend.
It is a fortunate meeting. We are excited to see one another.

We part ways after her lunch, and I am immediately hailed by an off duty salesman from Samsung. I walk past the store frequently and have become familiar to the staff. He offers me a ride and I hop in the car. He is older, sort of the "big brother" for the rest of the Samsung sales team. He asks me the usual: "What do you eat?", "Do you like Korean food?", "How old are you?", "Are you married?", "Do you have a boyfriend?", "Do you live alone?", "Do you make a lot of money?", "Where is your family?", "Do you have siblings?" you know, casual questions. I laugh and try to answer as tactfully as possible with my limited vocabulary. He tells me that
he is now my friend, my "old friend" and drops me off at an intersection near Samsung.

His questions are not meant to be intrusive, he simply wants to find out information. I am something of a curiosity to many people here, and my answers usually garner a nod and a look of concern for my well-being. A woman alone? Make sure you are safe, you know, that sort of thing.

I return home and pace for a while. I eventually decide to double check the bank; maybe I have been paid today, just later than I expected. True enough, It is computer buying day after all!

I withdraw money and happily stroll to Hi-Mart Electronics Store.

They are having a sale: LG Xnote? How much? okay, a little expensive...Windows in English? No? Okay, see you later.

I walk through the doors of Samsung Plaza: Hello friendly sales team! It's Candida. Thank you for the ride earlier. Where is the one salesman who speaks nominal English? Ahh! There you are, hello! Hi-Mart is selling an Xnote with these specs for this much. Can you beat that? Also, can you get English Windows? Maybe? Okay. This one is good. I will take this one. Oh. You can't sell it today? Come back in 2 days and I can have the display model for less? Okay. See you later.

I stop by E-Mart just because it's on the way home and it is cold. I may as well check their computer selection. Oh Ho! What's this?
Excuse me, Yes, I know you don't speak English..but...일 마이요? You'll call and see? Okay. Thanks, and um, how much memory and how much space? Specs, yes. I don't know. Oh! Okay, thank you. And what about Windows in English? What if I want to use Photoshop? Indesign? Adobe Acrobat? Photoshop okay? Okay. I will buy this computer.

Two days later, the computer is delivered to the Hagwon with English Windows and Photoshop installed. Half of the programs are in Korean, but that's okay. I'll figure that out later. For now, I'm excited to get the monthly postcards back on track. Maybe I can download Skype or something and call a few of my friends and relatives...whenever I figure out the password to the internet at home.

Day 119
Chicken drawings, tea, and oranges conclude a day wherein I am told a technician must come to the apartment to give me the password.

Day 120
I make my first Animated .GIF after wanting to do so for over a year.
I call it "The Fruits of Isolation" or "Life in Korea" or "My New Friends".
You can choose.




My adult students get a laugh when they find out exactly how bad I am with numbers and I teach them "I have something on my mind".

Day 121
Remember on Day 119 how I was told a technician must come to the apartment? Change that to I must go to their office and then it's correct.

Day 122
Mission Accomplished. The night is concluded with Nore Bang that lasts too long. I come home, stab the roof of my mouth with an almond, take a shower, and go to bed.

The Un-numbered Days are coming.

Actual Conversation

Day 96

There is no snow, but a damp cold. Warm floors oh, you warm floors. Temporary PC rejects printer drivers and then decides to reject me. Mystery ports can't find mystery hardware. Windows will not to open.

Day 97

Young Me and I go out for Golbenggi Noodles after work. She needs to tell me something, she says. She's leaving for good in exactly four weeks.
You, Young Me? The only person in the Hagwon who can acutally hold an English conversation?? You're leaving???

Day 98

Christmas Eve is like Valentine's Day in Korea. It is a day for couples. I remain nearly unaware of this fact until the day-end conversation class.

"Ted, how are you today?"

"Oh! Teacher! I am so sad! I am solo."

"Huh??"

"Yes, today, I think we are all solo in this class. Maybe those who are not here are with their girlfriends."

"HA! Yes, Raphael, you're probably right. Well, hah, okay, we can call ourselves 'The Lonely Hearts Club'. How's that?"

"Teacher! Oh! That is good, that is funny. But Teacher! I NEVER have a date for Christmas Eve"

"Well, Ted, it's not really the end of the world, right? You will someday."

"Ted maybe will, but Teacher what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"HA! No. I don't. But, that's fine. I don't need a date for Christmas Eve."

"But you must be the loneliest! You have been solo the longest!"

"Raphael, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Okay, well, I think it works a little differently in the United States. Let's go to paaaagggge 38!"

Day 99

I reach for some deep thoughts while biking next to the river. Egrets flock the gravel road ends. I turn back to find another route. I drink "Decent Coffee Blood of Southern French Style" at "Hands Coffee". This is Christmas, and I am delighted with my bicycle - a present to myself.

9 pm - Waiting in the train station for a friend.

9:30 pm - Student calls to see if he can join us. I inform him that the "us" is "me" for now and there is no need to hurry. I know his main motivation is actually to meet the korean women I am friends with.

10 pm - He shows up with his cousin, I recieve a "sorry, maybe next time" text from her. "Ted" and his cousin try to hide their disappointment and Ted takes me to his favorite Hof (pub) for a Christmas Beer. A fruit plate is served, we snack in near silence (Ted's cousin speaks next to no English) and dutifully finish a pitcher. We are all ready to go home. It is a good thing Ted is hilarious.

Day 100

Back at the Hagwon, I breeze through the day holding onto the knowledge that I will have all next week off. FREE!!! FREEDOM!!! Now what to do? I start making loose plans, I know what my "plans" are actually like and decide to keep it non-comittal. A couple days in Seoul perhaps, maybe a trip to Daegu, I'd really like to visit Gyeongju, and Pohang has been suggested to view the New Year's Sunrise over the East Sea (Sea of Japan).

The Longest Night

Day 91

I think about how I should get up early. I think about it before pulling the covers back over my head to block out sunlight.

Day 92

The season is stuck in November weather.

Day 93

I raised my voice at the students today. It was unexpected, and I felt as shocked as they looked. But at least they stopped screaming. Not many classes are badly behaved, but there are one or two that show next to no respect for me as a teacher. It's not their fault, I think. They can't understand my instructions, they're in classes all day, and the precedent of foreign teachers is to play games and let the kids run wild for a half hour. I've changed that slightly. I try to create a fun learning environment, but I am not a babysitter. That's never been my disposition.

Day 94

Handstands in the kitchen

Roots in my soup.

Over dinner, I learn that Winter Solstice lore includes eating red-bean soup to ward off evil spirits and a superstition that one's eyebrows will turn white if one falls asleep overnight.

Day 95

Today is the shortest day of the year. I use the brief light to venture to Daegu. Walking through the parking lot, I see a student standing outside. We chat and discover that we are headed to the same place. I decide to wait for him, and soon we set out together for the station. With standing room only, we head for the cartoonish cafe car. Multiple shades of green and various saturation levels of hot pink surround us as we discuss whatever comes to mind.

Arriving at Daegu, we set out for Kyobo. A Korean textbook and a brief conversation with a Chinese-Canadian who drills me on Korean numbers later, we are back out on the street. It is the Christmas season and shoppers are out in full swing on Dec. 21. A stage holds a passionate singer backed by a dedicated rock band. We stop for Ommuk between the stage and a cell phone store, struggling to lure customers in with pop songs while the rock blasts from across the pedestrian street. He heads for his family's house, and I head for the station. Today's company was a pleasant surprise.

I return home to the question once again: what is a good activity for 12/13 year olds? This time the answer is making Christmas cards, watching a Charlie Brown Christmas, and the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer animation. Oddly enough, I find myself longing for candy canes and tinsel as Charlie Brown's creator tries to remind me of what Christmas is all about.

one, two, skip a few...

Day 81

The 111 Bus stops in front of my apartment building. The 111 Bus goes to Jikjisa. I put two and two together and wait for the 111 Bus in front of my apartment building. When it stops, I ask..."Jikjisa?" "anneyo (no). haha! anneyo!" Is he serious? Why is he laughing. I don't understand. I just want to go to the damn park! Take a breath. It's not that bad. This has happened before.

In fact, the reason I believe that it is possible to go from my apartment directly to Jikji-sa, is because the ONE time I took the bus, I ended up going halfway out to Jikji-sa before the bus driver stopped and told me to get off. (See Special Edition Post)

I have a plan. I will go get the 111 Bus at a different stop. I don't know what the difference will be, but I will try it. It works. 20 minutes later, I am dropped off at Jikji Park. A short walk past resturaunts and green space filled with weird sculpture, I am in the peaceful temple grounds. The air is cold and fresh, wet snow crunches softly underfoot, the occasional cat crosses my path, and then there's the chainsaw. I'm not sure where, but it is present. A chainsaw.

After a couple hours, I make my way home. I upload photos to flickr. I say goodbye to my computer. I go to bed.

Day 82

What does one do on a day of rest? What is rest?

The battery has finally died on my Mac. I keep trying to plug it in and see if it will charge or if the computer will turn on again. Ever. My trusty Mac. It kind of survived a drop...a screen breaking drop early on in life. And it's been with me since the end of 2002. It's old. It's like an old dog. It was like an old dog. Now it's like a dead dog. A dead dog that contains information.

Angela left a laptop when she left Korea. She had purchased a new one to replace her old DELL Inspiron. The keyboard has a mind of it's own. CAPS LOCK goes on and off at will, generally staying on for numbers and punctuation...which eliminates numbers and proper punctuation. I'm shocked that it's working now, but maybe it has decided to be kind. In any case, I'm thankful to Angela and the keyboard right now. So thankful.

Day 83

one...

Day 84

two...

Day 85

skip a few...

Day 86

Attempt to sign up for pottery at Gimcheon Women's Center. Fail. Thwarted by complete rudeness. Am so frustrated, I struggle to hold back tears and one or two escape as I stand at the curb waiting for a taxi. Young Mi makes an attempt to comfort me, but she is also shocked at our reception. It was nearly their lunchtime, I tell myself. They don't want things to be difficult for the teacher, I tell myself. They don't know he knows I want to take the class. These things are true.

Must work now. I try to forget about the morning's setback and build up my energy to match that of 8 year olds. In comes a package! It's from my Grandmother! My heart is warmed. I decide to open it right away...and the gifts inside...even though it's not Christmas. I unwrap a quilted wall hanging made by her, and looking at the stitches, I am overwhelmed. I feel a knot form in my throat and my eyes well up. I frown and try not to cry again, but I can't help it. TWICE!!! Twice in 3 hours! I hate crying. This is ludicrous. I must pull myself together! I can and do so.

10 minutes later I am teaching. During class, the secretary interrupts to ask what she should do with a second, larger package I have received. CHRISTMAS! It is Christmas for me on December 12th.

Day 87

Morning train. Seoul station 11:30. A short wait and I am greeted by Myeong Hee, who happened to be coming to Seoul separately. I get lunch with her then leave to meet the friend of a friend I've exchanged a few texts and a phone call with.

The friend of a friend is great. He has two visitors aside from me and he's decided to be tour guide. Our first destination is not open, so we wander the crowded streets of seemingly endless Namdaemun Market. Knick-knacks, kitchen ware, pants, shoes, sweaters, slippers, ginseng products, candies, food stands, people, coats, repeat. Post Namdaemun, we wander some more and head to 'Seoul Int'l Photography Festival 2008' which is taking place in the former Seoul Station. Wallpaper crumbles, paint peels, concrete and pipes expose themselves next to crystal chandeliers and chamber ceilings with painted motifs. I love this place.

Hongdae follows, bringing a wild bus ride, a graffiti filled park, an atmospheric hookah lounge, and a (delightful) club (of sorts) that resembles a Dr. Seuss village minus all color aside from red and white. Santas on a bar crawl make their way in and add to the bizarre nature of the moment. Wandering, dancing, people watching, more dancing...we wrap up the night in a club that seems more like an 80's movie than real life. I really wouldn't have been that surprised if Emilio Esteves and Judd Nelson had shown up with Molly Ringwald between them.

Day 88

I part ways with my new acquaintances in the early afternoon, and after a day of not quite aimless wandering of the streets of Seoul, I catch a train home. I arrive, make some soup, and sit down to type.

Synchronic

Day 76

Half of postcards #2 go out in the mail. The other half must wait until I can get a new ink cartridge and more stamps.

Synchronicity in action:

One day I look up "blue people" on the internet a.k.a. "Googled it". My hands are turning blue, is it the cold? I find the Blue Fugates. A strange genetic occurrence in the Appalachian Range results in a family line of blue-skinned people. Huh, who knew?

10 days later, I find out who knew. Writers of an English education book series in search of something interesting enough to hold the attention of a 12 year old for an entire hour.

Day 77

New books and new classes provide a new wall for my students and I to climb.

The Dictionary Quandry:
In looking up a word A, one must occasionally look up words B and C to fully understand the definition of word A.
Change "occasionally" to "almost always" and you may know the problems my students face. When a word like "wrap" is defined by the book as "to roll or fold" even I am confused.

Day 78

A new student joins the golfer and I. He happens to live in the same apartments as I do, and so I have company on the walk home. Fortune smiles!
In other arenas, I attempt to organize a book swap, with tentative results.

Day 79

Mental block for numbers and days of the week in Korean. WHY??? Why does it seem so impossible to memorize and retain numbers and weekdays? I need to tell time, I need to know what day it is, this shouldn't be such an insurmountable task. I fight frustration and struggle to remain the kind of person I'd like to be around. This shouldn't be so difficult. I close the book and stop the lesson early.

Myeong Hee and I turn the discussion to what to do for a weekend away.

Day 80

Friday night:
Popcorn, sweet potato, T.V. on the internet.
then I make a drawing and go to bed. It's nice and quiet.

Short and...Short.

Day 71

The Hagwon is freezing. I must master the art of layering. I MUST. Children wear their coats, electric heaters are in many classrooms, but not all. A hot cup of tea is constantly in hand. The new student in my Conversation class is preparing to take the test to become a Professional Golfer. A Test! His English is fairly good, so it is a pleasure to have him join us. Classroom conversation actually flows a little more like...well, conversation.

Day 72

I go to the Waegook Cook in Gumi, briefly, to watch a friend eat the mountain of turkey he is served. I re-embrace technology and update my Skype account. I speak with family for the first time since my arrival. I print several test postcards and address them. Sort of a family activity, right? It involves others, albeit unawares.

Day 73

Cold. Why is it so cold? Printing, cutting, and addressing postcards until the printer runs out of ink...which happens all too soon. An early evening capped by The Daily Show.

Day 74

The weather of the day is one weird metaphorical mix of foreshadowing for the evening to come. Unprepared for inclement weather, I step out into a warm sunny afternoon, which changes into cold quick rain, which is followed by thick wet snow. The pattern repeats itself and is in the warm stage when I reach the train station.

Day 75

Day of Rest

Advancements

Day 62

Sneaking sentences of new books between classes, I finish the day.

Day 63

Post-yoga coffee leads to lunch.
"It's delicious soup, I just won't tell you what's in it, okay?"
"Um...okay." I'm pretty sure we're going to eat intestine or liver soup.
We walk into a restaurant near my home and are seated by the owner, who seems quite amused at my presence.
"Smells like liver! Right?"
I sniff the air and the 6 year old inside me screams "OH NO!!!" recalling a chicken liver and okra episode. "Right."
My friend orders and says something to the owner, gestures to her own body, then looks at me. "I was asking him...what part exactly is this soup? Becaauuussseee I don't know how to say it." This is a surprising statement, as her English is better than perhaps anyone else I've met.
"Intenstine?" I ask, "Liver? Small intestine? Gall Bladder? Stomach?..." Each guess earns a tilt of the head, this way or that and something between a smile and a grimace.
"No, that's not it. It's good, anyway. I promise you'll like it."
Broth boils in hot pots as the owner brings our soups to the table. The meat is very dark and it looks as if there are sections of a deep purple sausage amid green onions and spice.
"It's vegetable," she says. Are you kidding me? Why is it so dark? "Yeah, you know, the sweet potato noodles and vegetable stuffed inside the uh...intestines." I'm not sure I totally believe her, but I will tell myself I do. (Some internet searching later adds blood to the recipe.)
"western sausage is intestine stuffed with meat and spices," I reason. When the soup cools a bit, I nearly finish the bowl and she is laughing.
"You love it!" Maybe love is a bit strong, but I do like the soup and it is a meal I can have alone, although I'm not sure I will. It's a possibility.

As I walk home after work, I pass the orange vendor. He smiles and walks me over to the Odeng vendor by the elbow. He gestures toward the skewered fish cakes in their broth and walks away. An old man next to me asks, "Where are you from?" I point to myself and reply "Meegook. America."
"Soju!" he says, and I nod. "Odeng!" he says, and I select a skewer. "Odeng, Japan. OMMAK, Korea," He corrects himself. We sort of chat as the vendor insists I stay close to the warm cart. I watch as he pours batter from a teapot into fish-shaped cast iron molds, adds red-bean paste, and pours more batter on top before closing the lid, flipping the fish over, and rotating to the next empty one.
People are starting to crowd around the vendor and his warm food. He is laughing, filled with happiness from soju and good business. I hear the Hagwon mentioned and a woman looks at me as she says "Oh! My son!" I smile and nod at her.
"It's snowing" I say to the old man beside me. "AHH! Ahh, Chung Noon. First snow. C H U N G - N U U N." "Chung noon," I repeat his words. I nod and finish my soju, allowing a woman with a baby strapped onto her back nearer to the cart. The vendor catches my eye and hands me a red-bean fish as I leave to continue my walk home.

Day 64

Attempt at new technology: denied

Attempt at learning Hangul numbering systems: limited access

There are so many ways to say a number in Hangul it baffles my mind. There are numbers for mathematics, which apply to money. Numbers for counting objects, numbers for counting in general, different numbers for telling time. Perhaps I will understand in time.

work work work

Day 65

Going downtown to buy a new cell phone leads to a walk, which leads to the market, which leads to an herb man, and then to the library, which leads to a library card. Leaving the library, I stop to buy sweet potato for lunch and head to the Hagwon. Students notice my new phone. "Oh! Beautiful!" They open the phone to hear the sounds it will make. "BEEeeautiful! Good phone, Candida, Oh, SKY." They give each other nods of affirmation. Great, I'm glad they like it. I prefer it to the other, but I can't really figure out how to do anything with it. Eventually. Maybe. Maybe not.

7 days

Day 55

Really? I have to go to work again? New schedule. Our classes are shifted around and around. We have a new secretary.
I open a bank account and am PAID!!! I finally get a full paycheck.
Leaves are falling off of trees, and I wear a coat on my walk to school. I don't need it during the day, but after work it is cold.

Day 56

After a failed attempt at financial transfer from South Korea to the U.S.
I buy a camera and rush to class. Something positive will happen today.

Day 57

After yesterday's pointless hour and a half at the bank, I decide to translate phrases I will need, and hopefully that will help. It does. After only 50 minutes, financial transfer is successful.
I go for a long walk. Into the woods again, out. I take photos of the trucks I see.


I decide to go to Bruce, the Traditional Medicine doctor. I will ask if he can do anything for sadness.
He calls the dentist from the first floor up to his office on the second. He hands me an orange. The dentist speaks English with more fluency, and he can help Bruce understand the nature of my sadness. I try to explain that my meloncholia is caused in large part by the high percentage of misunderstanding and miscommunication in my daily conversation with the world around me.
He prescribes Moksa treatment. I lay down on the table and he places small clay pots filled with burning mugwort on my skin. It is related to accupuncture in that stimulation of key points on the body will help the flow of energy in the body. I don't know exactly, but I'll try it out. He also give me herbal teas. I vow to find a book in English on Korean herbs.


Day 58

Yoga, coffee, and Sam-Gye Tang (a small chicken stuffed with white rice, ginseng, and a daechu berry sits in a bath of broth. Mashisayo.) with Myeong Hee before I teach.
Work is going okay. I feel that I've reached a good balance. I am strict enough to keep them from going crazy, easy-going enough to play games and have fun. The new secretary is kind of delightful. Not kind of. Delightful. "Candida!" she says, "Your hair! Like Hagrid!" "Candida! I LAh-Vuh YOU!"

Day 59

The students are trying to get me to read in Hangul for them. Every syllable I utter, no matter how stilted, earns a "WHAAAAaaaooooow". After work I walk to Bugok Dong, the other side of the city. It's not intentional, I just keep walking. Eventually I turn around. I'm restless.

Day 60

A walk to town precedes my 5 o'clock date with Sally, a Korean teacher from the Hagwon. She picks me up promptly in her small white car, and we head to a restaurant. She treats me to barlbap, a mixture of barley and rice served with soup and side dishes. I treat her to coffee at a nearby coffee-house. It is a sweet place. I would take my mother and grandmother there. Sally helps me read from a magazine, but we only get through about two or three sentences before it is time to go.

We drive up to a large building with strange architecture. Strange in its cubist shape style. We climb stairs to the entrance and wait for doors to open.
Walking inside, I am transported to 1998. The auditorium is structurally identical to that of the Community College in my hometown. Perhaps the only difference is that there are Korean characters on the seats denoting row and number, rather than English.
We listen to music until the electronic gong tells us that the show is starting. It is exactly like waiting for the Mohawk Follies to begin.

"Dalgona" is a dramatic musical that uses popular songs from various decades to evoke nostalgia in the audience. It works. The audience around me was clapping to the beat as teenagers ran from their teachers, singing along softly with ballads as a young woman waits for her sweetheart's letter, watching in silent reverence as song accompanies video footage of protests in the 1980's. During intermission, I reassure Sally that I understand what's going on, even though I don't understand Hangul. We go back and finish the show. I am kicking myself for not buying a tape recorder earlier on in the day.

She drops me off at home around 10:30 and I decide that my night is not over. I will go to Gumi. I met the new owner of a bar a few weeks ago, and the official opening is tonight. I can go have a beer, maybe see some people I've met, and come home in a couple hours.

Where is the bar?
I follow the directions, but I am unsure. I had counted on seeing people standing outside (forgetting that smoking is allowed inside). There is a foreign woman approaching. I ask if she knows where "Corona" is. As it happens, it is just across the street and she is going there herself. We walk in together and shortly decide to leave to see if anything is going on elsewhere. Neither of us are familiar with the crowd in Corona, both of us were hoping for more dancing. We head to Psycho, and linger in the doorway, as the bar is nearly dead. We are cajoled inside, and hesitantly step in. Once those few steps are taken, we are being watched over by a giant man, who apparently wants us to come all the way in and go to the bar. Okay.
We go up to the bar.

What do you want to drink? Do I have to? I feel a little uneasy.
She and I ignore the others and talk with each other. We eventually decide to dance by ourselves. As I turn around, the Giant hands me a pool cue.

"A Game! Pool, you play pool. What do you want to drink? A Budweiser?"
I look at her and shrug. I'll play a game, then dancing. The game proceeds with the usual amount of talking down the opponent, but I win.
"He let you win."
I am feeling more at ease, and the dance floor opens up. Impromptu synchronized dance with the giant gets the bar laughing, and I am having a good time. Oh no! What time is it? Okay, I have a few more minutes. OH NO!! TIME!! I HAVE TO GO!
I grab my bag and jacket and sprint out the door. The Giant runs down the stairs after me.
"Where are you going? Why you have to running??"
"TRAIN! I have to catch my train!"
"Catch next!" He catches my hand to slow me down.
This continues to the train station, where he assures me that I won't be able to buy a ticket. I shake my head and quickly walk down to the platform. I will just not buy one. A bus! take a bus! There are buses from Gumi to Gimcheon, take a bus!

I narrowly miss the train. NARROWLY.
"This is your fault," I say. Of course it's not entirely his fault, I could have left earlier. I should have. But maybe I can take a bus. I'll take a bus. We run into someone I know, who informs us that yes, there is a bus, but it won't run until 4am.

There is a collective gasp as I walk back into the bar. An upside to this turn of events is that I can get the woman's phone number. There wasn't time before.

Chat chat chat chat...is it 4 yet? no? not even close? chat chat I am tired. chat. I am going to get a hotel room. chat chat. You will get me a hotel room? I will have a SINGLE hotel room, which I will stay in, ALONE. You understand? ALONE. Me. Alone. Nice to meet you, Goodnight.

In the middle of the night I hear screaming outside of my window. I walk over and look out to see a Korean woman wildy waving her arms in general drunken rage. Her friends cannot quiet her, others cannot quiet her, police arrive and cannot quiet her, in fact, at the arrival of the police, her outburst reaches a level of hysteria and continues for an amazing amount of time. I see three men taken into one police car, and eventually she and another are placed in another. Whoa. Rolling Stone Western Bar...what kind of place are you? I go back to sleep, shaking my head at the weirdness of this existence.


Day 61

I wake, prepare for the day, turn in the key, and head for Daegu. Standing room on the train is a falsity, there are plenty of open seats.
I wander through three foot alleys lined with vendors preparing for the day. I have arrived early and few stores are fully open. Not wanting to be the first customer to enter any store, I am a true window shopper. I read somewhere that the first customer in a store sets the tone for the day. Whether or not that's true, I don't know...regardless, I don't want the responsibility. Purchases will eventually occur.

More footsteps lead me to Kyobo, a large bookstore. There is a reasonably sized English section and I head over to find something new. There is another perusing the wall. He looks about my age and I notice that the books he looks carefully at are good, by my estimation. I go out on a limb and ask if he would like to go for lunch.

Over coffee, I learn that although he is newer to Korea than I, he knows about some arts districts in Daegu. Specifically, he knows about a photography show at the Daegu Art and Cultural Center. This is thrilling. We go and I thoroughly enjoy the show. I thoroughly enjoy the fact that some involvement in current art/culture in Korea is possible. It has been a difficulty; not knowing how or where to view or show art. The show itself is very good. It is the Daegu Photography Biennial, featuring new digital work, older photos of North Korea, work by Chinese, Japanese, and Korean photographers.
Outside the station, I pass an old man playing Venture's style guitar through a portable amp. He is accompanied by an old woman, singing into a microphone. I wish again that I had a tape recorder in hand.
New clothes, new books, new friend. Great day. I board the train at 18:54.

From a Distance

Day 46

8 am wake up
9 am train
Wandering around the streets comprising Gimcheon market, I find the first pair of pants that actually fits me. Probably the only pair in this city.

More wanderings bring me eyes full of dried squid stretched on wicker hoops next to fish speared in groups of 7. An old man sleeps inside his storelet in front of a static T.V. An old woman lays on her mat, waiting for a customer to ask about the fabrics she has on display. Vegetables, grains, side dishes, kimchi, goods, appliances, outerwear, inner-wear, it all awaits the buyer in the market.

I smell like stale smoke.

During the day, I build myself up for another night out. Which scarf braids best into my hair? Draw the eyebrow on now or later? Lipstick now, lipstick later?

Among people I don't know so well, I suppose I operate best if there is something to do. A small project, if you will. I meet with New Orleans once again. The city, really, it knows its daughter, no matter how far I go. Once dressed as Frida, I busy myself with face-painting others. The comic nature of the situation is quietly addressed once or twice.

We go out.
Live music! Covers, but still, Live Music! Drinking, smoking, dancing, shouting to be heard, more drinking, more dancing, some climbing, some shouting, some fighting.
We go in.

Day 47

9:30 am wake up
10:41 am train
On my way to an Outlet Mall in Daegu. Perhaps I should've asked for a raincheck. I need a coat though, it's getting cold. Standing room on the train. Should've eaten something. Myeong Hee gives me her seat. Thank you, oh, Thank You.

Moda provides a coat immediately, along with browsing, browsing, browsing (Did I wash off the eyebrow?), browsing (Yes.), browsing. LUNCH! Dukbokki, mandu, something else? I'm sure there was, WHY oh why didn't I eat before??? SHOPPING CENTERRRRRRRRRRRRR. I am a zombie, and poor company, I'm sure. Worn out from the day, we get coffee. Myeong Hee and I walk back to the subway. Ahhh, yes, Moda Outlet, you've done it again. Two satisfied shoppers.

Day 48

The dissipating smoke in the bar's atmosphere took my voice with it.
Attempting to sound dignified at all when one sounds like an 80 yr old ajuma is impossible in front of 8 year olds. This sucks. Immune system down, the Cold wins a major battle and captures my voice and most of my energy.

On the way work, I stop to buy some mandarin oranges. The vendor is a relatively large Korean man. "Chingu, Matt?"
"Yes! Me, Matt, Friends!" Is this the farmer I heard about? He points toward Prime. "Matt teacher?"
"Um...no, no. Changee. I am Meegook, Matt Meegook, Anglea Meegook, chingu chingu. All Iowa. Matt go, Angela go, only me."
"AHH..okay, okay. Martin?"
"Ehhh...Martin...yes, Martin sem. Here."
"Ahh, okay okay," he motions for me to go, then grabs my hand for a firm handshake. He points to himself, "Opa, okay? Opa."

Work. Sleep.

Day 49

I find Maangchi and her online Korean cooking guide. This takes up my day until work. On the way, Opa is at the Odeng vendor across the street.
"Ahh!! Anneyong Candida! Here, odeng!"
"uhhh...ahhh..." I prance around like I have to go to the bathroom and point to my wrist, as if I wear a watch. He nods and indicates that he understands, but he won't take no for an answer.
"Odeng," he commands. "Hana, one." He tells his friend I am an American, goes to the truck's cab and brings back two persimmons to put in my bag. I finish the odeng and he shoos me away.

Work. Sleep.

Before bed, I chat with a friend who is on his way to vote. In the morning, 8 hours of day will have passed and the United States will be 8 hours closer to tallying the votes.

Day 50

My voice has returned, the election results are coming in.
Please, oh, PLEASE, do not let McCain win. Obamaobamaobama, the name is running through my head like a mantra. I recall my whereabouts in 2004, huddled around a radio with friends on the Mississippi River.
2008 has me seated in front of my computer alone, running back and forth from the kitchen to the living room of my apartment in South Korea. Streaming video from MSNBC and DemocracyNOW keeps me on top of the latest happenings including McCain's concession speech, Obama's victory speech. The crowds are cheering on a portion of my computer screen. I see New York City and Chicago, I hear about the streets of West Philadelphia, I celebrate vicariously. I am thrilled at the turnout, elated that Barak Obama is the President Elect, hopeful for the future of the country...and I express these sentiments over the computer to a friend who is also online. 4 years brings me into a very different reality.

Fire Flowers

Day 31

GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!!! Get out of the house before 10 am, I say to myself. That is the goal. Nearly, 10:10 and I lock the door behind me. A morning walk into downtown past old women squatting on the street shining persimmons and thrusting bags of peeled garlic into the air for me to see. Someone is behind her metal cart filling small dips in a cast iron pan with oil, dough, and bean paste. The sun is shining and I climb the stairs to step onto train yard bridge. I complete my errands and chat with Im You Hee, who wears dark blue contacts. I am back before noon and quickly out again. Werrrrrkkkk.

Day 32

Train station 10:35. I'm late. 10:40. 10:50. Mark highsteps past me asking "Did you buy your ticket yet?" on the way. I barely utter "no" and he's 10 feet away. Nicole walks in explaining that the train we're catching leaves at 10:54.
Our seats are separate and I end up next to "Freddie", a businessman from Ghana. He gives me chocolate bars and offers to buy me an international phone card so I can call my grandmother. "Give me your phone number, I will call you with a phone card number."
Uh...thanks, Freddie, but I don't know..."You will come to Seoul soon?" No.
Haeyundae Beach and Pacific Shells. Coral? Too Beautiful.
I draw them in the sand, making patterns, getting wider wider.
Away from shore, Korean Krishnas (?) drum and gong their way along the walk. No one pays them much mind.
Subway into Busan. Destination: Gwangalli Beach. People People it is 5 p.m. the beach is half full. The streets are half full.
4th Busan Fireworks Festival. Fire Flowers is the Korean term.
7 p.m. peoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeo
peoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeop
lepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepe
oplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeople
peoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeop
This must be what it is like to be a blood cell. Veins of people are striving to reach their destination in time. Must. Sit. Before. First. Fire. A crowd of 1.5 million people is on the beach. Or trying to be. I am one of them.

8 p.m.
Notes from the show:
Busan Bridge grows a glowing vine first red, then slowly colors cascade to the water.
Battleships or fakes. Shoot, they're shooting at one another with gold and red and smoke and the gold moon hangs low over a cityscape and WHAT are these flying flames?? Bird Kites!!! Glow gold red and stream green flying flaming over crowds and water. Phoenix. Phoenixes? Pheoni? The gold moon climbs higher slightly and stays large. A globe. Lazers? Do you see those lazers in the smoke? On the building! Oh! Light show!
What is this music? I can ignore it. I will listen to the story these "fire flowers" tell with my eyes.

Later...wander, wander, subway, wander, sleep.

Day 33

A morning train takes me home with Standing Room Only.

Taxi! Gimcheon Science Festival, please. I point to a street-lamp with a flag indicating the dates and times of the Festival. A student has a booth, I told her I would go. Too bad I don't know where it is or how to get there.
The driver nods and drives in the opposite direction. I figure he knows where he's going...until he stops at an intersection near my house and asks Right or Left? Stunned, I shake my head neither. He lets me out and gives me a W300 discount. Thanks, Driver.

What do thirteen year olds like? I try to figure it out and end up watching Hannah Montana, Jackass, Funny Home Videos, and Mr. Ed...some clips of Faith the Two-Legged Dog, and finally decide to look into some Mad Libs. I think that's pretty close to what they like. I think.

Day 34

Address postcards. Gluestick stamps to postcards. Post postcards.

Day 35

On the way to work, I remember that today, parents are coming to watch my class. No sweat. They're a good class, I'm a good teacher. It's fine. Until Mrs. Lee appears and is a flurry of nervous energy and Yuna, my co-teacher, is trying to explain to me the lesson plan, but can't fully and so enlists the aid of Cindy.
"What is going on?" the 3 o'clock "bell" goes off. It actually sounds more like a cell phone alarm. I ask for the folder I'm to teach from this hour.
"Mrs. Lee didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"You're supposed to..ahh...ummm...you watch students. They have.."
"Practice? I'm supposed to listen to them practice for this weekend?"
"Yes!"
"Where??" I am guided by the elbow by Sally to a room downstairs. She leaves and students file in. What is going on? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I ask students in the room to start their presentations. Mid-presentation, other teachers file in and sit down, other students come in and sit down...15 minutes into it all, Mrs. Lee comes in.
"Candida! sit sit sit come come come come, sit." What??
She rapid fires words at the room, sets up a fake podium bustles through the front of the room and instructs students to start over. She motions to me and asks me to go upstairs to practice for the 4 o'clock class.
"Very important day, today." Okay, I'll go practice.

How did it go? Oh, fine. It went fine. Fine...it's fine it's fine, slightly awkward, I mean just fine. great! fine. The kids are great. Timing is a little off and there's extra time in which Yuna and Mrs. Lee are mouthing "Speaking Time again Conversation Time again Sing A Song again" Okay.

After class, I think about the fireworks again. I wish for a camera. I wish for...I want to...the flaming kites. I can't believe they were real. Luckily, total strangers Sheri & Trav were there, too. And they made a video.

Room 1 Room 2

Day 26

What I learn:
Dokbuki
Kimchi-jigae
insight as tooooo...well, nearly arranged marriage. Insight as to what "Seon" is.
Seon, as per my understanding, starts out kind of like a blind date, with family involved. Two people get together, see how things go, report back to their families...if there's a second date, there's essentially an agreement that the relationship will result in marriage. It's possible that the marriage won't take place for a long while. The romantics will get to know one another, but it's unlikely to be called off.
The woman who teaches me how to make dukboki and kimchi-jigae does so while telling me about her seon date the day before. I (and a multitude of others) had accidentally called her while she was on it.
She's perhaps 3 years older than I am, but there is definite societal pressure on her to be married. Him, too. He's 4 years her senior. People get married, have children, remain extremely close to their families. The families of both are eager for their kin to be wed. And create more kin.

For the rest of the day "seon" is on my mind, until I accept that I just won't understand it. A walk with a friend at the base of Gumosan brings us past a zip-line among the trees. model traditional houses are passed by; clay pots, clay floors, clay walls, wood roof. they're beautiful. so simple.

Day 27

It is rare that I fully wake before sunlight. More common is a bleary eyed stumble to the bathroom at dawn, followed by a second look out the bedroom door at the light splayed across the floors of "room 1" and "room 2". It is yellow yellow yellow. I can go back to sleep now.

Day 28

Giving a presentation at my full time job? Who Am I??? WHO???
I am Candida and I bake apple pies for Korea.

s-u-c-c-e-s-s

The pie I brought to school is gone before I am back from my lunchtime errands.
I still can't remember which student is Weenie and which is Rudy. Jeniffer and Ansoni I have down. It's okay.

Day 29

Sirens are a-wailing at 2:03 p.m. I don't know why and have no one to ask. I just hear dogs barking and assume it's a test, even though it seems like a long one, and as soon and I write that it seems long, the sirens die down. Tornado sirens...Nuclear Plant warning sirens. Not police or fire department sirens.

printing printing postcards and the ink won't dry on one side.
The paper is not two-sided.
I didn't think of that.

Day 30

In the morning...I can READ! I Can Read. I can read the words. I cannot tell you what they mean. But I can read.

I discover how to use the floor heating system. I turn it on in "Room 1" and "Room 2" in order to figure out which rooms are which. Quite kind, the warm floor.

Later that evening...
Potato Sticks and Pizza snacks.


Both items are actually "potato chips". A friend brought them over. Really. I'll show you. It's like this is the snack bowl at our party.

What's in them? I don't know...outside of enough MSG to make my tongue numb in 5 seconds.

Monday's Child

Day 16

My work day starts around 2 p.m. most days. I take my shoes off, put on slippers, and walk into the school.
Classes are 1 hour long. Either I teach for a full hour (later in the day), or I teach for half an hour (earlier in the day).
I have 7 Korean full time co-workers and one Australian part-time co-worker. He and I are the Native Speakers on staff. Mostly, our duty seems to be to facilitate conversational ability. Korean is nearly an exact opposite of English. Learning English is difficult, and most Koreans start in early Elementary. Primarily, the focus is on the rules of grammar (as there are MANY), pronunciation, reading, and writing...but not necessarily comprehension or conversational ability.
I teach people from ages 8 to adult. Not speaking Hangul is a real handicap with the younger students. Luckily, I like to draw. So do they. I've seen a pretty priceless P-U-P-P-Y. it was quickly morphed into P-I-G. "P" words.

Sometimes the kids kind of sound like little robots because Hangul stresses every word equally, unlike English, where there is a cadence to speech. It's strange for them to learn the cadence. Although to be fair, if I even get to the point of speaking Hangul, I will probably sound like a slam poet all the time.

Day 17

Today is day one of a three day weekend. It is the National Foundation Day of Korea. The story of National Foundation Day follows, as told to me by Mercy, a co-worker:

"Hwan-Woong was the ruler. There was a bear and a tiger who wanted to become human. Hwan-Woong said go into the cave for 100 days and eat garlic and mugwort. They went into a cave but Tiger became impatient and left. Then...ahh...defecation? defecation?? is that the right word?? auhh...defecation! (Mercy says with a slight grimace) so..the bear! auhh, yeah..not pretty! but Bear (she moves her hands over her face) and stayed in the cave and came out of the cave a woman. Beautiful. She marries Tan-gun's father and has Tan-gun. His children are the people of Korea, but I don't really believe that. All people are really made by God."

"A myth? Korean mythology."

"Yeah."

"It is good."

"Yes."

On this day I go to a traditional resturaunt with a co-worker. Bibimbap followed by a stroll around a pond of lilypads reaching to the sun. A true spectacle. She also takes me to an art store to help me get what I need. I've approached this art store before, and not speaking Hangul, was shooed out. In the evening I eat blowfish.

Day 18

Please see "Special Edition" blog.

Day 19

I feel like leaving the apartment.
No move is made to do so.
Except at 5. Badminton date is canceled.
Rained out.
Try to download The Host...a Korean horror flick.
I go to dinner with Badminton friend.
And we make a date for the morning, instead.

I experience a very "Lost in Translation" moment in the late evening. I have gone to E-Marte, and while being lifted to the second floor on the angled moving walkway, I am struck by the surreal nature of midi-muzak, florescent lights, yellows, and pinks.

Day 20

Monday's child seems as if it has had too much coffee.
If going to shows has not wreaked havoc on the workings of my inner ears, certainly these sweet voices will.

A new adult class in the evening. They are teachers. Milton, the oldest, after learning "Miss, Mrs, Mr, Ms" calls me Ms. Pentagon.