We are leaving tomorrow for a temple stay. We are going to be Buddhist monks for twenty four hours. While living with the monks we'll learn some zen martial arts, live in a cave, wake up to the gongs at 4:00 am and eat alms. All of it except the shaved head. It's going to be one of two things...really cool or really crappy.
Will keep you posted when I get back to this consumerism-driven world we call home.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Mmmm...tastes bitter.
Work hates us. More than the normal "You're white, so automatically not welcome...and while we're at it we are also totally jealous of the fact that you get to travel, even though if we were given the opportunity we wouldn't take it anyway" kind of way. The Korean teachers at work were so pissed at us for missing our flight. We got completely ignored on Monday, despite our futile attempts at Asian-style groveling and humble-pie-eating. I've been eating humble pie for the past eleven months and truth be told, I never really liked the taste of it. The mere thought of anymore makes me gag.
I'm all for respecting cultural differences but somethings are just ridiculous. The idea that our missing the flight was directed at any one person as an individual is ridiculous. What is more ridiculous is the idea that we should be shunned and shut out for some unknown period of time until the unnamed powers that be decide we are forgiven. It's one week since our "incident" and we are still being ignored. I mean point blank "Hello's" being greeted with stony faced "Humphs" and followed with a pivot and walk away. Jeez.
Retaliation also seems to be a favoured technique here. We've been publicly embarrassed and reprimanded, forced to carry a heavier teaching load than normal and basically mistreated. The worst part is that we have three weeks left and they have their hands around the purse strings...which contains our bonus. Our whole reason for being.
I'll swallow my pride...and wash it down with some more humble pie.
I'm all for respecting cultural differences but somethings are just ridiculous. The idea that our missing the flight was directed at any one person as an individual is ridiculous. What is more ridiculous is the idea that we should be shunned and shut out for some unknown period of time until the unnamed powers that be decide we are forgiven. It's one week since our "incident" and we are still being ignored. I mean point blank "Hello's" being greeted with stony faced "Humphs" and followed with a pivot and walk away. Jeez.
Retaliation also seems to be a favoured technique here. We've been publicly embarrassed and reprimanded, forced to carry a heavier teaching load than normal and basically mistreated. The worst part is that we have three weeks left and they have their hands around the purse strings...which contains our bonus. Our whole reason for being.
I'll swallow my pride...and wash it down with some more humble pie.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Lowest Lows on High
There is an old Japanese proverb that says: "He who climbs Mt. Fuji once is a wise man, he who climbs twice is a fool." Personally, I think climbing it once makes you a fool, or at the very least a glutton for punishment.
Since June is outside of the official climbing season, the Japanese government makes it next to impossible to get out the mountain. Our group (consisting of Brian and I and our friends Dennis and Andrea) were hell-bent on getting there so we took a bus to the first station, Kawaguchiko and then hired a taxi from there to the base of the mountain. When we first approached the taxi-driver he said "No." No? What do you mean no? What he meant was that the gates to the fifth station were closed (of course they were - foiled by the Japanese system once again. They're smart.) "But..." said the taxi driver. But what? "But the other station is open. It is on the other side of the mountain." At this point we were stranded in Kawaguchiko and determined to see the summit of Fuji. We piled in and rode for an hour or so up to the base of the mountain. He dropped us off (at about 10:00) in absolute darkness and pointed up..."That way." We paid him $120 for the ride and he left us. We turned on our headlamps in an attempt to cut through the pitch black and started up the mountain in good spirits.
The first hour or two was great. The trail (although it kept disappearing) was decent and we were excited by the big adventure we were on. Everything we had read estimated the climbing time to be about 4.5 - 5 hours and we were making good time. We could feel how high we were getting when our ears started to pop and we made it above the clouds. The white peak was off in the distance and although it was chilly, we were well-dressed. After about hour 4 things took a turn for the worse. The climb was steep and the air was getting thinner. We started to get a little light-headed and dizzy, and took a break so we could adjust to the altitude. We were getting tired but had passed a few stations so we knew we were on the right track. It wasn't long after that we started to get sick. The altitude sickness was making us nauseous and we were puking our way up the mountain. Too determined to stop but too sick to go on, we stopped and tried to rest in the dark. But every time we stopped moving the cold would set in and we would keep pushing, partly warm up and partly because we didn't know what else to do.
By the 8th station we were way above the clouds, over 3000 metres up. The sun was starting to rise and it was beautiful. It would have been more beautiful if we weren't so sick. We were close to the peak when the sun rose over the clouds and Brian and I had to stop and rest. We hunkered down against the station and tried to get some warmth from the sun. My toes and fingers had long ago gone from painful to numb and I tried to warm them up under Brian's arms. At that point, I seriously thought that we might not make it off the mountain. We were physically exhausted and had altitude sickness. Everything we had eaten had been "ejected" and we were shivering. Mentally, we weren't all there. Things weren't making sense and I felt stoned. We managed to fall asleep in the sun for about 20 minutes before melting snow began dripping on my arm and woke me up. I have to say that waking up to a sun over the clouds is am amazing experience.
We knew that the only way off the mountain was up the mountain so we pushed on. The last part of the climb was really steep and covered in ice and snow. We would take three steps and stop. The climb had been cut into switchbacks so we would try and so one switchback and then rest. It took us hours. It also took everything I had mentally, physically and emotionally to keep going. It was a vulnerable but empowering feeling to know that the only person who could get me home safe was me. Nobody was going to help us. At this point Dennis and Andrea had gone on ahead of us while we slept. It was just Brian and I, the sun and that goddamned mountain.
Hours later, we reached the summit of Mount Fuji (3,776 metres). The mountain is a volcano, so at the top there is a giant crater. We walked around the crater and found Dennis and Andrea who still hadn't found the trail down. There were cold, exhausted and as mentally unstable as we were. The whole experience felt like a dream. The silence, the snow, the sun, the wind and the full feeling in our heads contrasted with the emptiness of our lungs. We decided to head back down the mountain and started to stumble our way down the trail.
Going down is supposed to be easier. It wasn't. The snow made for treacherous conditions going down and at one point I fell and cut up my arm. After the snow we reached the descent trail and it looked like the fires of Mordor. Red volcanic rock and sharp cliffs. It was horrible...nothing like what we had imagined. It was steep, dry, barren and rocky. We were all in survival mode and powered by sheer instinct at this point. Every station seemed further away then the next and as the hours dragged on we started to doubt (again) if we would ever get off the mountain. It took us more than six hours to get to the fifth station (where we could catch a bus) and 10 hours to get to the top. All together we had been on the mountain for close to twenty hours. Without sleep and without food. We were wrecked. I couldn't walk, I couldn't talk and I couldn't think.
We eventually made it and managed to get on a bus bound for Tokyo. I slept on the bus, on the subway and as soon as I lay down in our bed. If I had done the climb alone I would have doubted any of it really happened...the altitude sickness gave it all such a surreal dream-like quality.
The next morning I awoke to find myself and Brian badly sunburned. His face was actually blistering and we had to bandage up my right hand. It was the worst sunburn I have ever had and climbing Mount Fuji was the hardest thing I have ever done. But I did it.
Since June is outside of the official climbing season, the Japanese government makes it next to impossible to get out the mountain. Our group (consisting of Brian and I and our friends Dennis and Andrea) were hell-bent on getting there so we took a bus to the first station, Kawaguchiko and then hired a taxi from there to the base of the mountain. When we first approached the taxi-driver he said "No." No? What do you mean no? What he meant was that the gates to the fifth station were closed (of course they were - foiled by the Japanese system once again. They're smart.) "But..." said the taxi driver. But what? "But the other station is open. It is on the other side of the mountain." At this point we were stranded in Kawaguchiko and determined to see the summit of Fuji. We piled in and rode for an hour or so up to the base of the mountain. He dropped us off (at about 10:00) in absolute darkness and pointed up..."That way." We paid him $120 for the ride and he left us. We turned on our headlamps in an attempt to cut through the pitch black and started up the mountain in good spirits.
The first hour or two was great. The trail (although it kept disappearing) was decent and we were excited by the big adventure we were on. Everything we had read estimated the climbing time to be about 4.5 - 5 hours and we were making good time. We could feel how high we were getting when our ears started to pop and we made it above the clouds. The white peak was off in the distance and although it was chilly, we were well-dressed. After about hour 4 things took a turn for the worse. The climb was steep and the air was getting thinner. We started to get a little light-headed and dizzy, and took a break so we could adjust to the altitude. We were getting tired but had passed a few stations so we knew we were on the right track. It wasn't long after that we started to get sick. The altitude sickness was making us nauseous and we were puking our way up the mountain. Too determined to stop but too sick to go on, we stopped and tried to rest in the dark. But every time we stopped moving the cold would set in and we would keep pushing, partly warm up and partly because we didn't know what else to do.
By the 8th station we were way above the clouds, over 3000 metres up. The sun was starting to rise and it was beautiful. It would have been more beautiful if we weren't so sick. We were close to the peak when the sun rose over the clouds and Brian and I had to stop and rest. We hunkered down against the station and tried to get some warmth from the sun. My toes and fingers had long ago gone from painful to numb and I tried to warm them up under Brian's arms. At that point, I seriously thought that we might not make it off the mountain. We were physically exhausted and had altitude sickness. Everything we had eaten had been "ejected" and we were shivering. Mentally, we weren't all there. Things weren't making sense and I felt stoned. We managed to fall asleep in the sun for about 20 minutes before melting snow began dripping on my arm and woke me up. I have to say that waking up to a sun over the clouds is am amazing experience.
We knew that the only way off the mountain was up the mountain so we pushed on. The last part of the climb was really steep and covered in ice and snow. We would take three steps and stop. The climb had been cut into switchbacks so we would try and so one switchback and then rest. It took us hours. It also took everything I had mentally, physically and emotionally to keep going. It was a vulnerable but empowering feeling to know that the only person who could get me home safe was me. Nobody was going to help us. At this point Dennis and Andrea had gone on ahead of us while we slept. It was just Brian and I, the sun and that goddamned mountain.
Hours later, we reached the summit of Mount Fuji (3,776 metres). The mountain is a volcano, so at the top there is a giant crater. We walked around the crater and found Dennis and Andrea who still hadn't found the trail down. There were cold, exhausted and as mentally unstable as we were. The whole experience felt like a dream. The silence, the snow, the sun, the wind and the full feeling in our heads contrasted with the emptiness of our lungs. We decided to head back down the mountain and started to stumble our way down the trail.
Going down is supposed to be easier. It wasn't. The snow made for treacherous conditions going down and at one point I fell and cut up my arm. After the snow we reached the descent trail and it looked like the fires of Mordor. Red volcanic rock and sharp cliffs. It was horrible...nothing like what we had imagined. It was steep, dry, barren and rocky. We were all in survival mode and powered by sheer instinct at this point. Every station seemed further away then the next and as the hours dragged on we started to doubt (again) if we would ever get off the mountain. It took us more than six hours to get to the fifth station (where we could catch a bus) and 10 hours to get to the top. All together we had been on the mountain for close to twenty hours. Without sleep and without food. We were wrecked. I couldn't walk, I couldn't talk and I couldn't think.
We eventually made it and managed to get on a bus bound for Tokyo. I slept on the bus, on the subway and as soon as I lay down in our bed. If I had done the climb alone I would have doubted any of it really happened...the altitude sickness gave it all such a surreal dream-like quality.
The next morning I awoke to find myself and Brian badly sunburned. His face was actually blistering and we had to bandage up my right hand. It was the worst sunburn I have ever had and climbing Mount Fuji was the hardest thing I have ever done. But I did it.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. " - Mark Twain
More Than Just Good Sushi
We're back from the edge of the world. After being stuck in Tokyo for 4 extra days, we're back in Daegu. What a ride. By Friday we had run out of underwear (the old rumour that you can get extra wear by flipping them inside-out is true), clean clothes, and patience. We showed up for our flight on Tuesday and were running behind. We were there nearly an hour before our flight left but we were too late. I've never heard of anywhere closing the gates an hour prior to takeoff. We couldn't believe it when they told us that the next available flight was on Friday. We tried to get on standby and of course, couldn't. By the time we got in line for our Friday flight they were offering voluntary bumps because they had overbooked the flight. So we took it. After being in Tokyo for that long, what did an extra day matter? The airline put us up in a fancy hotel and fed us all you can eat seafood and breakfast buffets. And gave us a free flight voucher. Not a bad ending to a long trip.
So, lets get to the good stuff. Tokyo is by far, the coolest place I have ever been. As the world's largest city (34 million people - can you believe that!? That's 12 million more than Mexico City) I expected it to be crowded. It wasn't. It was beautiful, modern, exciting, easy to navigate and unbelievably clean. I fell head over heels in love with the city. The food was delicious and we saw so many cool things. Here are some of them:
1. Asakusa: The area where we stayed, first in a guesthouse and later in a capsule motel. Capsule motels are what they sound like, little pod-like things arranged in rows and columns. They are cheap and you check-in by buying a ticket for the night. Very futuristic but cozy.
Asakusa is also home to Kappabashi Street, 800 metres of kitchenware and fake plastic food. It was awesome. I bought more ceramics (gulp) and some neat binto boxes. I could have stayed there all day, but Brian dragged me away while I was still flinging money at the merchants.
Senso-ji, Tokyo's oldest temple, was just around the corner from our pod. It was really beautiful and much bigger than its Korean counterparts.
2. Harajuku: The fashion district is famous for it's strange trends and "out-there" costumes. It was really amazing to see all the girls dressed up in goth gear (including blood and trailing bandages) standing next to other girls saturated in pink lace, ribbons and parasols.
3. Shibuya: Home to the world's busiest intersection, where every three minutes the lights turn green and the crosswalks are flooded by pedestrians. Also home to the Lost in Translation Starbucks, where you can watch the madness from the second floor. We also hit the world's biggest Tower Records where I managed to scoop up some English magazines. A small but missed luxury in my life.
4. Tsukiji Fish Market: Wow. This was incredible. You have to get there early, but it was well worth it. This fish market is the world's biggest (noticing a tend here?) and was more chaotic, exciting and visual than anything I've ever seen. Everywhere I turned there was a picture, and someone pushing me over so that I couldn't take it. It contained every kind of fish, eel, tortoise, crustacean and squid you can imagine. And many more that you can't.
We also visited Ginza (the haute couture capital), Shinjuku, the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum and Tokyo Tower (a copy of the Eiffel Tower). The people were unbelievably friendly, the subway was incredible, and not once did I feel swarmed or overcrowded. It also wasn't nearly as expensive as I had been told. Most of the prices were comparable to Canadian or American prices, which is a shock after living in Korea, but they weren't prohibitive.
I want to move to Tokyo and I would highly recommend that if you get the chance, you should visit. It's like the cool comic-strip cities of the future only it's cleaner. And it's real.
So, lets get to the good stuff. Tokyo is by far, the coolest place I have ever been. As the world's largest city (34 million people - can you believe that!? That's 12 million more than Mexico City) I expected it to be crowded. It wasn't. It was beautiful, modern, exciting, easy to navigate and unbelievably clean. I fell head over heels in love with the city. The food was delicious and we saw so many cool things. Here are some of them:
1. Asakusa: The area where we stayed, first in a guesthouse and later in a capsule motel. Capsule motels are what they sound like, little pod-like things arranged in rows and columns. They are cheap and you check-in by buying a ticket for the night. Very futuristic but cozy.
Asakusa is also home to Kappabashi Street, 800 metres of kitchenware and fake plastic food. It was awesome. I bought more ceramics (gulp) and some neat binto boxes. I could have stayed there all day, but Brian dragged me away while I was still flinging money at the merchants.
Senso-ji, Tokyo's oldest temple, was just around the corner from our pod. It was really beautiful and much bigger than its Korean counterparts.
2. Harajuku: The fashion district is famous for it's strange trends and "out-there" costumes. It was really amazing to see all the girls dressed up in goth gear (including blood and trailing bandages) standing next to other girls saturated in pink lace, ribbons and parasols.
3. Shibuya: Home to the world's busiest intersection, where every three minutes the lights turn green and the crosswalks are flooded by pedestrians. Also home to the Lost in Translation Starbucks, where you can watch the madness from the second floor. We also hit the world's biggest Tower Records where I managed to scoop up some English magazines. A small but missed luxury in my life.
4. Tsukiji Fish Market: Wow. This was incredible. You have to get there early, but it was well worth it. This fish market is the world's biggest (noticing a tend here?) and was more chaotic, exciting and visual than anything I've ever seen. Everywhere I turned there was a picture, and someone pushing me over so that I couldn't take it. It contained every kind of fish, eel, tortoise, crustacean and squid you can imagine. And many more that you can't.
We also visited Ginza (the haute couture capital), Shinjuku, the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum and Tokyo Tower (a copy of the Eiffel Tower). The people were unbelievably friendly, the subway was incredible, and not once did I feel swarmed or overcrowded. It also wasn't nearly as expensive as I had been told. Most of the prices were comparable to Canadian or American prices, which is a shock after living in Korea, but they weren't prohibitive.
I want to move to Tokyo and I would highly recommend that if you get the chance, you should visit. It's like the cool comic-strip cities of the future only it's cleaner. And it's real.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Stranded
I'm in the Tokyo airport. We missed our flight back to Korea. Mount Fuji nearly killed us and I'm as sick as a dog. We can't get out of here until Friday, although we are trying to make standby, and we are nearly out of cash. At least there are lots of cute robot puppies to hang out with. Will write when we get back...if we get back.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Off to Nippon
Off to Tokyo on Saturday morning. I can't wait to eat Japanese food, walk on clean streets, take pictures of dogs wearing haute couture and climb Mount Fuji. Climb Fuji? "What a minute! Isn't that a big mountain?" you ask. Yup and I'm a little nervous. It's not a hard climb (says Brian), "Just a steep incline most of the way up..." but it will take us four or five hours. And we're doing it in the dark and it will be cold on top. And it's technically illegal since it's off-season...and did I mention it's 3,776 metres tall?
Despite how it sounds, I am actually quite excited to do this climb, if a little cautious. It's my first real peak and Fuji sure isn't a bad place to start!
So, if I don't blog again for the nest few weeks it's because I'm in traction in a Japanese hospital paying 5,000,000 yen a day and being force-fed miso soup.
Despite how it sounds, I am actually quite excited to do this climb, if a little cautious. It's my first real peak and Fuji sure isn't a bad place to start!
So, if I don't blog again for the nest few weeks it's because I'm in traction in a Japanese hospital paying 5,000,000 yen a day and being force-fed miso soup.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Spring League
Spring here has been beautiful so far, and today was no exception. The sun was shining and it was a balmy 27 degrees. We headed to the Daegu World Cup soccer stadium to watch a soccer game. The stadium is really beautiful and is nestled in the valley between two mountains. The open air seating was practically empty and for $7.00 we had the pick of any seat in the house. At home you go to a game (soccer, hockey, whatever) and you have a choice of hot dogs, chips, beer, soda and other assorted junk food. Here you can choose between rice cakes and ramen noodles. (Be warned that if you choose the noodles, you may just have to wait in a long line for the hot water.) And beer of course...some things cross all cultural borders!
The game was good, though I spent most if it chatting with my friend Chelsea, and our team won 4-3. Every time the home team scored, blue streamers and sparkles would shoot out from somewhere above our heads! It was cool. Like most things in Korea, the normal event of a soccer game was made foreign by the strange foods, the different smells, the constant staring and the language barrier. We didn't know what we were chanting most of the time but we were chanting alongside the rest of the fans, and it was fun.
The game was good, though I spent most if it chatting with my friend Chelsea, and our team won 4-3. Every time the home team scored, blue streamers and sparkles would shoot out from somewhere above our heads! It was cool. Like most things in Korea, the normal event of a soccer game was made foreign by the strange foods, the different smells, the constant staring and the language barrier. We didn't know what we were chanting most of the time but we were chanting alongside the rest of the fans, and it was fun.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Today was a strange day. I woke up early and went to my friend's house for a couple of hours. My friend is nine and very cute. She's a mini Korean version of me at that age and she amazes me every day. She's smart, creative and funny. I love her so much and I never leave her house feeling sad...until today.
I've been in a slump the past couple of days...hormones I figure. I decided to walk home from my friend's house and listen to Brian's iPod. It was a long walk home but I loved every minute of it. I started off listening to really mellow music which didn't help me feel much better but did give me the opportunity to wallow. Wallowing is good...but only for so long. About 45 minutes into my walk I switched over to my music from the 60's...the Doors, the Four Tops, the Beach Boys. Before you know it I was singing my way through downtown Daegu. I loved being outside and took the time to smell the roses...literally. This actually turned out to be a big mistake since the roses in Daegu are all growing along side the stinky, garbage-filled river. The smell of rose only lasts a few milliseconds before it's overcome by the smell of stench. That'll teach me.
In the evening we went to a DVD bang (bang is Korean for "room") which I think might be one of the coolest things I've ever seen. You go in and pick your video, much like a videostore at home. You hand it to the guy at the counter and leads you through a maze of dark hallways and into your own little mini-theatre. In each room there is a huge movie screen (about 7 feet by 5 feet), a big comfy-couch and a table for drinks and food. You can bring in anything you want - a pizza, beer, popcorn...you name it. It's great. It's private, cheap and comfortable. Like going to the movies only better. They're technically illegal here (can't imagine that the movie theatres like the competition) but they are on every corner.
We watched Motorcycle Diaries and loved it. It's based on the journals of Ernesto Guevara, before he was "Che Guevara". It was filmed in Argentina, Chile and Peru and the scenery was unbelievable. It was really interesting to see how many of Guevara's revolutionary ideas first developed. It's amazing to me how chance encounters and discussions with strangers can affect a life as profoundly as it did Guevara's. Before his travels across South America he was an Argentinean medical student. After his travels his destiny was much greater and he eventually became a pop culture icon. In hindsight, maybe he should have stayed home.
I've been in a slump the past couple of days...hormones I figure. I decided to walk home from my friend's house and listen to Brian's iPod. It was a long walk home but I loved every minute of it. I started off listening to really mellow music which didn't help me feel much better but did give me the opportunity to wallow. Wallowing is good...but only for so long. About 45 minutes into my walk I switched over to my music from the 60's...the Doors, the Four Tops, the Beach Boys. Before you know it I was singing my way through downtown Daegu. I loved being outside and took the time to smell the roses...literally. This actually turned out to be a big mistake since the roses in Daegu are all growing along side the stinky, garbage-filled river. The smell of rose only lasts a few milliseconds before it's overcome by the smell of stench. That'll teach me.
In the evening we went to a DVD bang (bang is Korean for "room") which I think might be one of the coolest things I've ever seen. You go in and pick your video, much like a videostore at home. You hand it to the guy at the counter and leads you through a maze of dark hallways and into your own little mini-theatre. In each room there is a huge movie screen (about 7 feet by 5 feet), a big comfy-couch and a table for drinks and food. You can bring in anything you want - a pizza, beer, popcorn...you name it. It's great. It's private, cheap and comfortable. Like going to the movies only better. They're technically illegal here (can't imagine that the movie theatres like the competition) but they are on every corner.
We watched Motorcycle Diaries and loved it. It's based on the journals of Ernesto Guevara, before he was "Che Guevara". It was filmed in Argentina, Chile and Peru and the scenery was unbelievable. It was really interesting to see how many of Guevara's revolutionary ideas first developed. It's amazing to me how chance encounters and discussions with strangers can affect a life as profoundly as it did Guevara's. Before his travels across South America he was an Argentinean medical student. After his travels his destiny was much greater and he eventually became a pop culture icon. In hindsight, maybe he should have stayed home.
Friday, May 27, 2005
I need to write a manifesto...I'm just not sure what I want to say. Sometimes I get so filled up with frustration that I want to scream but I can never really verbalize what frustrates me so much. This generation...the black hole of revolution. The complacency that surrounds me, despite plenty of things to get worked up about. Human rights abuses, the erosion of the separation of church and state, not to mention our planet which needs to be under death watch. The Bolsheviks had their revolution, the hippies had theirs...we're just too damn lazy. Forgetting everything else, the environment should be enough to unite the whole world into a frenzy. It should cross cultures, languages and age barriers. It should (gasp) leave the fringes behind and become a mainstream cause. But it hasn't...not yet anyway. It's wilting in the melanomic sun and people are going about their everyday lives.
What makes a "cause" well up and pour out into a revolution? Soldiers are dying in Iraq at the same rate (if not worse) than they were in Vietnam and nobody is marching on Washington. War medals are not being thrown into chanting crowds. People in Africa are dying by the millions...the famine that swept Ethiopia in the 1980's hasn't disappeared, just shifted course. And there is no Band Aid. Women are still treated as second rate citizens in many parts of the world (some would argue all parts of the world) and no one is burning their bra. What happened to the revolution?
What happened to not living by default?
What makes a "cause" well up and pour out into a revolution? Soldiers are dying in Iraq at the same rate (if not worse) than they were in Vietnam and nobody is marching on Washington. War medals are not being thrown into chanting crowds. People in Africa are dying by the millions...the famine that swept Ethiopia in the 1980's hasn't disappeared, just shifted course. And there is no Band Aid. Women are still treated as second rate citizens in many parts of the world (some would argue all parts of the world) and no one is burning their bra. What happened to the revolution?
What happened to not living by default?
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Now, call me crazy, but is it possible that this Newsweek story might actually be true? After all the fallout from Abu-Ghraib I am quite sure the US government would go to great lengths to silence any similar type of story. Even as far as paying off/threatening its biggest national news magazine?
Al-Jazeera claims it has separate sources that support Newsweek's claims. Something tells me that we will never know the truth. We can just flush that hope right down the toilet.
Al-Jazeera claims it has separate sources that support Newsweek's claims. Something tells me that we will never know the truth. We can just flush that hope right down the toilet.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Love in the Rain
Tonight it was raining and Brian met my taxi at the market. I stepped out of the cab and under his awaiting umbrella. The air smelled like rain and strawberries and it was just about the most romantic thing I had ever seen.
Monday, May 16, 2005
A hodgepodge...
I cannot believe this Newsweek thing. "Ooops, we made a mistake, sorry about the 15 people killed in riots over our story." And our journalism profs thought we we were bad fact-checkers. Ha!
Brian and I each got a Tamagochi...and we're addicted. I thought I was immune to the expired Japanese craze. Apparently I am not.
Sunday was Teacher's Day and on Friday I got bombarded with presents...good ones. (No repeat of the Christmas seaweed set.) Body shop gift sets, candles and even a Tiffany and Company jewelry bag. Brian got a giant bottle of Johhny Walker Black label, which is sort of an odd gift for your teacher, but still very considerate. It was a good day.
We booked our tickets out of here!! Wahooo! We fly out on July 9th into Singapore. We are making our way from Singapore up into Malaysia and then on to Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and then into China and Mongolia. We are so excited! We have time, money and no real itinerary...could I ask for anything more?
We leave for Japan in "18 sleeps" (as Brian says) and that will definitely make the last few months fly by. We have our accommodations booked and have the climb planned. Now all I need to do is save the money for the medi-vac to get me off the mountain. I'm a little worried about the climb but Brian says it will be fine...hard but doable. It will be worth it when I get to the top of Mount Fuji and watch the sunrise over the crater.
Went bowling last week and I loved every minute of it. Now, some people may not know this about me but I love ten-pin bowling. Enough that I have looked into joining a league when we move to Calgary. I have priced out balls and shoes on line and I am determined to be the best bowler I can be. Brian thinks this is ridiculous and insists that bowling is for "white trash". Guess I won't ask him to be my bowling partner. I will admit that every team I looked into joining was named after either a beer or a Nascar driver. What I need is a bowling team/political discussion group/secular humanism and skeptic association all wrapped into one. Maybe I can start one...any joiners?
Only 36 work days left...not that I'm counting.
Brian and I each got a Tamagochi...and we're addicted. I thought I was immune to the expired Japanese craze. Apparently I am not.
Sunday was Teacher's Day and on Friday I got bombarded with presents...good ones. (No repeat of the Christmas seaweed set.) Body shop gift sets, candles and even a Tiffany and Company jewelry bag. Brian got a giant bottle of Johhny Walker Black label, which is sort of an odd gift for your teacher, but still very considerate. It was a good day.
We booked our tickets out of here!! Wahooo! We fly out on July 9th into Singapore. We are making our way from Singapore up into Malaysia and then on to Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and then into China and Mongolia. We are so excited! We have time, money and no real itinerary...could I ask for anything more?
We leave for Japan in "18 sleeps" (as Brian says) and that will definitely make the last few months fly by. We have our accommodations booked and have the climb planned. Now all I need to do is save the money for the medi-vac to get me off the mountain. I'm a little worried about the climb but Brian says it will be fine...hard but doable. It will be worth it when I get to the top of Mount Fuji and watch the sunrise over the crater.
Went bowling last week and I loved every minute of it. Now, some people may not know this about me but I love ten-pin bowling. Enough that I have looked into joining a league when we move to Calgary. I have priced out balls and shoes on line and I am determined to be the best bowler I can be. Brian thinks this is ridiculous and insists that bowling is for "white trash". Guess I won't ask him to be my bowling partner. I will admit that every team I looked into joining was named after either a beer or a Nascar driver. What I need is a bowling team/political discussion group/secular humanism and skeptic association all wrapped into one. Maybe I can start one...any joiners?
Only 36 work days left...not that I'm counting.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
269 Ermine. With the emphasis on MINE.
My parents are moving out of my childhood home this weekend and I feel really upset by it. Here I am, in Korea, living my grown-up life with my new husband and all I can think about is my house in Fort McMurray, Alberta. We moved into that house in 1981. I was a toddler and only one of my brothers had been born. We grew up in that house, were teenagers in that house and visited it once we had left for University. My parents are retiring to Okotoks and I am really excited for them but I can't help but feel like a part of my childhood is gone forever. All that stuff that people say about "home is where the heart is" is only partially true. Home is also where the house is.
Friday, April 29, 2005
A Leap of Faith
Getting a haircut in another language is always an experience. After getting a Korean friend to write down what I wanted in hangul I headed off to the local beauty salon. The place was crawling with people. Mothers, fathers and little boys getting perms. I waited for about half an hour until I was instructed to "come 'ere" by the shampoo boy, who couldn't have been more than sixteen. His broken English was cute though and he gave me one heck of a head massage. They also put this creepy green Freddy Krueger mask on your face when you are getting your hair washed so your makeup isn't ruined. I kept wanting to sing "Music of the Night" but I managed to refrain.
After I was seated in the chair, the Korean scissor cowboy sauntered up behind me, armed with three hip-holsters full of scissors. He said a quick "Hello" and proceeded to cut my hair in a frenzied blur. When he was done he flicked up the back of my hair with a grunt of accomplishment, threw his hands in the air like a flamenco dancer and pranced off. It was fantastic.
And my hair looks pretty good too.
After I was seated in the chair, the Korean scissor cowboy sauntered up behind me, armed with three hip-holsters full of scissors. He said a quick "Hello" and proceeded to cut my hair in a frenzied blur. When he was done he flicked up the back of my hair with a grunt of accomplishment, threw his hands in the air like a flamenco dancer and pranced off. It was fantastic.
And my hair looks pretty good too.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
The Saddest Zoo in the World
Today started out great and went downhill. I woke up this morning and Brian had bought me the coolest Swatch watch for our 8-week anniversary! It's really nice and was a great surprise. How good is Brian?!
We had to be at Ding Ding Dang early today because we were taking the kids on an outing to Dalseong Park, Deagu's oldest park. We arrived at school and got the hundreds of kids into the school buses and on our way. The weather has been really beautiful here lately and when we pulled up to the park (after 6 rounds of "The Wheels on the Bus") I was happy to see that all the flowers were in bloom. It was really beautiful.
How was I to know that nestled among the beautiful flowers and greening grass was the saddest site I have seen in a long time? In the park there is a zoo. That is apparently the main reason we were taking the kids to this park and so I had to be a part of parading the little kids past the animals. Animals in small, dirty cages. A lone elephant, eating what appeared to be dust. Three mangy seals in an empty pool. Lions and tigers with no space to roam, eat or find shade. A chimpanzee lying in the fetal position in the dirt. It was horrible. Even the kids, who tend to show a typically Korean lack of feeling for animals, were disturbed by what they saw. One of my students, Peter, remarked that all the animals were old and sick. Or suicidal I silently added.
Seeing the zoo made me so sad and I eventually gave in to tears standing across from the lions. Having seen them in the wild and the majesty with which they carry themselves, I couldn't handle staring and taking pictures of the sad, scrawny, tired cats.
It made me wonder a lot about humanity. On most days I have a lot of faith in people and in our capacity for compassion and kindness. But there are days, and today was one of them, where I can't believe some of the things we have done. How anyone could stand across from a primate, look into it's eyes that look so much like ours, and then laugh at their miserable condition escapes me. As a scientist, I know that humans are animals much like chimps, elephants or lions. Today I realized that we are sometimes more animal than human.
We had to be at Ding Ding Dang early today because we were taking the kids on an outing to Dalseong Park, Deagu's oldest park. We arrived at school and got the hundreds of kids into the school buses and on our way. The weather has been really beautiful here lately and when we pulled up to the park (after 6 rounds of "The Wheels on the Bus") I was happy to see that all the flowers were in bloom. It was really beautiful.
How was I to know that nestled among the beautiful flowers and greening grass was the saddest site I have seen in a long time? In the park there is a zoo. That is apparently the main reason we were taking the kids to this park and so I had to be a part of parading the little kids past the animals. Animals in small, dirty cages. A lone elephant, eating what appeared to be dust. Three mangy seals in an empty pool. Lions and tigers with no space to roam, eat or find shade. A chimpanzee lying in the fetal position in the dirt. It was horrible. Even the kids, who tend to show a typically Korean lack of feeling for animals, were disturbed by what they saw. One of my students, Peter, remarked that all the animals were old and sick. Or suicidal I silently added.
Seeing the zoo made me so sad and I eventually gave in to tears standing across from the lions. Having seen them in the wild and the majesty with which they carry themselves, I couldn't handle staring and taking pictures of the sad, scrawny, tired cats.
It made me wonder a lot about humanity. On most days I have a lot of faith in people and in our capacity for compassion and kindness. But there are days, and today was one of them, where I can't believe some of the things we have done. How anyone could stand across from a primate, look into it's eyes that look so much like ours, and then laugh at their miserable condition escapes me. As a scientist, I know that humans are animals much like chimps, elephants or lions. Today I realized that we are sometimes more animal than human.
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