Episode 52: Busan Day 5

On Sunday, January 10th, I woke up in Jeong-pil’s house, just outside of Busn, after Ji-hyun and I had spent the night there. When I exited my room, I found Jeong-pil’s fiancé hard at work making an incredible “fusion” breakfast - as Jeong-pil called it.

The breakfast consisted of the traditional Korean side dishes like kimchi, rice, and yellow bean sprouts. However, it also contained a delicious fruit salad with red and green peppers, apples, tangerines and some other fruit, mixed together in a pineapple sauce; and there was also a green pumpkin (smaller than the orange variety) hollowed out, then filled with mushrooms, some meat (probably beef), with some other vegetables, which had all been cooked together like this and then topped with melted cheese.

(Fusion breakfast'd! Oddly enough, Jeong-pil didn't like it.)

After breakfast I sat down to watch some TV, and Yeon-gyeong (Jeong-pil’s fiancé) made me some delicious, freshly-juiced apple/carrot concoction. This was then chased with a homemade apple tea. Both were delicious.

The show I was watching on the telly that morning featured a group of young Korean men, called “The Dream Team,” travelling around Vancouver/Whistler, trying a number of Olympic sports and challenges. It was obviously a promo for that TV station’s upcoming coverage of the Winter Olympics, but it was also rather interesting from a cultural perspective.

The members of The Dream Team proceeded to dance, scream, fall down, and generally make a hash of whatever sport they were trying to do (not necessarily on purpose). As I watched, I wasn’t sure what it was that I was feeling. It could have been embarrassment for The Dream Team, or it could have been the bitter taste of indignation at seeing such buffoonery in my home country. However, I soon remembered all the times a Canadian comedian has traveled to another country during the Olympics to make a fool of himself on TV for the entertainment of Canadian viewers, not to mention all the Western English teachers here who tend to make a mockery of Korean customs on a regular basis, and that helped put things in a different perspective.

After we had packed up, Jeong-pil drove us out to one of the easterly most points in Korea. I'm not sure exactly what the name of the place is, but it was definitely a popular destination, and a giant mail box and tiger existed as if to show evidence of that.

(See the mail box? You don't get to build something that big unless you're already a big deal. Right? I mean, it's not like a town would build a giant statue of an animal or other object just to attract tourists unless the tourists already wanted to come there. Everyone knows that.)

(Apparently you can push letters in the small slot at the bottom. I'm not sure if they actually get sent anywhere though.)

(Psst... Jeong-pil, Ji-hyun, don't look behind you...)

After soaking in the fresh sea air (I had forgotten how pollution free air tasted by this point), Jeong-pil, Ji-hyun and sat in one of myriad cafes lining the parking lot. These cafes were basically wood shacks, with a plastic tent attached to them. However, despite the less than five-star interiors, at the Black Cat Cafe where we ate, the hot chocolate was some of the best in Korea (and I know my hot chocolates) so I was filled with a deep satisfaction.

(Cafes by the sea.)

After our snack, we all went to Yonggungsa - a temple in north-east Busan. Unlike most temples in Korea, which are built high in the mountains (to protect them from Japanese invaders bent on arson), Yonggunsa is built right beside the sea. Hopefully my pictures will say a thousand words for me, because I seem to be having trouble sufficiently describing the experience in my own words.

(This is a big Buddha statue. A normal person's head would come up to around the its toes.)

(Ha! You didn't believe me, did you?)

(In the bottom of the picture is a stone bowl, on the lower terrace. I'm not sure why, but many people were attempting to throw coins in it. It probably means they'll have a son, who in turn won't be able to get married because every other couple threw a stone in a bowl to get a son too.)

(Looking down from the top of the temple.)

Episode 51: Busan Day 4

In the 7th Century AD King Taejong Muyul of the Silla Dynasty used to practice his archery in a forest on an island near the East Sea. On Saturday, January 9th, 2010, Ji-hyun and I walked through the same forest on the same island, now called Taejongdae.

The obvious highlight of Taejongdae is the magnificent white light house, and the cliffs on which you can walk, to get as close to the sea as good sense will allow. I of course, walked out on the cliffs, but I also attempted to get an even better view of the sea by walking to the top of the light house. Unfortunately, once I got there my view was obstructed by the dirty safety glass keeping me from jumping over the rail and killing myself and so alas, the best view of the sea and Oryukdo - a collection of five islands that sometimes look like six, depending on the level of the water, hence the name, which means “five or six islands” – is only from the cliffs beside the light house.

(The lighthouse at Taejongdae, complete with old man waiting to take your picture on a Polaroid camera.)

(Another view of the lighthouse, from below. The red hoop with the needle sticking out of it has a placard describing the meaning of the structure. However, like all representative art, it made absolutely no sense.)

(The cliffs.)

(One of the many stunning views from the cliffs around the lighthouse.)

(The rainbow tent on the rock at the bottom of the picture is home to a restaurant which I assume sells fresh fish caught from the sea right beside it. At one point a wave was so big it came crashing over the edge of the rock and covered about half the top. It's tough to tell from the image, but everything on this rock is actually raised up to avoid getting soaked when this happens.)

After touring all of Taejongdae Park with Ji-hyun, Jeong-pil picked us up, and we drove to another beautiful cliff area called Igidae Park. Igidae is perhaps even more scenic and peaceful than the famous Taejongdae, but because there’s no lighthouse, very few people come to visit. (Even Jeong-pil had to admit that despite its beauty, this was the first time he had ever been to Igidae.) Come to think of it, the fact that no one goes to Igidae is probably the reason it is so scenic and peaceful, so I shouldn't complain too much. After visiting all the major cliffs of Busan, we drove back home for a raw-fish dish called sashimi. (Sorry, it was too dark by this time to get any decent pictures.)

I had first eaten sashimi during my visit to the Ulsan area back in April/May. At that time, I had already eaten a few crabs and three other sea food courses, so when the giant platter of raw fish came I just didn’t have the stomach room left to down too many of the large rubber-like fillets without first half cooking them in my bowl of maeuntang.

This time though, the cuts were much smaller and so I was able to wrap them with garlic and other sauces in ssam (any lettuce-like food stuff used for wrapping other food stuffs) thus adding some much needed “oomph” to what I can only describe here as small, cold, pink pillows, with the "chew-ability" of a pencil eraser, but containing much less flavour. In one of the great mysteries of Korea though, despite my relative aversion to sashimi, most Koreans (especially those from the Busan area) can't get enough of it. Considering Korea is the home of that most delicious of dishes - bulgolgi, the fact that more than zero people would rather eat raw, tasteless fish is something I'll never understand.

Episode 47: In Which DFM Goes On 7 Dates, And A Bell Rings 33 Times

Some readers are probably wondering what happened to me last week. Last week was a continuous blur of meeting friends to say good-bye for the last time (this trip). To compound matters, my access to Internet has been sporadic. To make up for my absence, here is the entire week in recap, in one post.

On Monday, December 28th, I met Mitja, my Slovenian friend, for dinner in Itaewon. We went to Don Valley (the same place I went with Tae-young back in March) to have some galbi. Despite Don Valley being a Korean restaurant, it was obvious that no Korean would be caught dead coming here twoice.

Mitja has a Korean girlfriend and he has been living in Korea off and on for about a year. He says he has eaten more than his bodyweight in galbi in that time, and so he could tell that we were being ripped off - the lettuce was unfresh and the ssamjang minimal. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little bit of justice when I could tell that the restaurant owner was disappointed that Mitja understood Korean dining culture and demanded his side dishes refilled. Mitja, for his part, felt not the least bit embarrassed about constantly calling the waiter over to give him refills. He later told me, "if they had a cart at which I could refill my own side dishes like the other Korean restaurants, then I wouldn't need to bother the waitresses so much."

* * * * *

On Tuesday I went to Insadong to meet Elise. She took me to a restaurant called Koong, which is famous for its North Korean mandooguk (dumpling soup). The founder of the restaurant is Mrs. Lim, who has made the Kaesong recipe traditional dumplings for 75 years (Kaesong is a city in North Korea).

The restaurant is now run by Mrs. Lim's granddaughter, but I assume the mandoo still tastes the same. If I'm honest, mandoo of any variety doesn't look that hard to make, so I'm sure Mrs. Lim's granddaughter couldn't have messed up the taste too badly. Unfortunately, I've never tasted the original mandoo of Mrs. Lim, so I have no basis for comparison. Consequently, I could have been sold horse manure wrapped in dough, told it was "award winning," and I wouldn't have known the difference. A free meal is always delicious though, so I'm not complaining.

* * * * *

On Wednesday, December 30th, I went back to Jeungsan at 7:00 PM to meet Shin Seung-hyeun (formerly known as Sin Seung-hyeun, but I changed his name to make it easier to pronounce). Mr. Shin, The Fruit Guy, has been wanting to take me out to dinner for the last two months, and so even though I had to move I told him I'd come back, and we made the arrangement for this night.

We walked a few blocks to a local gamjatang (pork ribs and potato stew) restaurant with his two young sons who came along. I couldn't stay too long though, and so after stuffing myself on giant pork ribs, potato, and ice cream for desert, I headed over to Ace Climbing Centre where Choi was waiting to take me out for yet another good-bye party. And so, for the next two hours I tried to find every spare cubic inch of stomach room left over after my first supper to fit in even more galbi.

* * * * *

On Thursday I visited Woojin at the newly built Times Square mega mall near Yeongdeunpo station (near Ace Climbing Centre). Woojin later helped me ascertain that banks in Korea will buy my Korean won back at rates roughly 25% higher than those of Royal Bank in Canada. With this information I went back to my hostel to rest up for the New Year's Eve festivities.

A couple of days ago Mr. Lee (the manager of Jin Guesthouse) told me that 8 teachers from Daegu were coming in and had wanted to book one room. Since I was staying in the only 8 bed room, I volunteered to move to free up the remaining bed.

My new room had six beds, and I was sharing it with two Norwegian blokes, currently on a break from studying in China, and Klaire, an Australian teaching in Japan on holiday in Korea. With nothing much to do inside the hostel, we all decided to check out the "famous" bell ringing down town at Bosingak.

(Left to right: Harald, Klaire, and Joe.)

(Harald was very popular with the locals, and these high school boys fell all over themselves with excitement at the chance to have their pictures taken with a foreigner.)

(There it is, the bell that all the fuss is about. The bell in Bosingak gives Jongno and Jonggak - the nearby street and subway station respectively - their names, as "jong" means bell in Korean. Every New Year's Eve, and only on New Year's Eve, the bell is rung 33 times to represent the 33 Heavens of Buddhism.)

From the above picture you can see that there were many people there (the Internet says the crowds sometimes number in the 10 000s). However I must say Seoul needs to work on its fireworks presentations. The lone streak you see on the right of picture X is from a handheld stick that revellers could buy at the site, and which shoots really weak mini-fire works about twenty five feet in the air. Joe agreed with my negative evaluation of the fireworks, saying that in Shanghai, where he is studying, there are fireworks every night that defy description.

After the freezing cold "party" that involved watching poor Korean pop stars having to dance and perform in significantly less clothing than is advisable for -13 degree centigrade weather, Harald, Joe, Klaire and I went back to the hostel, where Klaire fell asleep, and Joe, Harald and I watched Rambo 4 - one of the few movies that is over 50% killing and gore, but still needs more.

* * * * *

On Friday I went to see Ms. Yun in Sillim-dong. After some kimbab and a movie I said good-bye, and went to Ji-hyeun's place (near by), where she had invited me to try some of the delicious ddeokguk (rice cake soup) she had made for me.

In the mean-time I had been told by my friend in Ulsan that she was in New Zealand, so I couldn't stay with her the next week, like I had planned. Furthermore, my friend in Busan told me that I couldn't stay with her until Wednesday, so for the next five days I was without a home.

At least I wouldn't have to worry about that for the next two days, because I had already arranged to meet with James from Suwon and spend the night at his house, after a park workout of course. Before I left though, I had to drag my luggage across town to store it in Tyler's house (the other "foreigner" climbing at Ace, who was nice enough to let me sleep on his couch for three nights after I came back from Suwon).

And that brings us to Tuesday, January 5, where I'm now sitting in Tyler's living room, watching his movies, trying to live as cheaply as possible until I head to Busan tomorrow. Check back in a few days for a full update of the journey.

Episode 44: In Which DFM Becomes A Victim, Helps A Victim, And Eats A Coincidence

On Tuesday I was told that I needed to vacate my former premises by Thursday (just two days later, for those of you doing the maths). As a result I was forced to spend most of Wednesday cleaning up the pigsty that used to be my room.

Over the course of the last four months I had managed to amass a rather large amount of excess supplies that would not fit in my suitcase. During my last stay in Korea the same thing happened to me, as well, but I was actually able to cram everything into my suitcase. However, the consequence of my efficient packing was that I was charged an extra $100 at the airport for a suitcase that tipped the scale 20 kg over the limit. Looking to avoid a similar blow to my wallet, I took some advice from a friend and decided to send a package home ahead of time through the mail.

As seems to be the norm with government sites in Korea, the Korea Post website is awful. Oh sure, there are lots of colourful boxes, and buttons to press, but very little real information is given, and as usual there seems to be no way to actually find out how to get to any one of the buildings for which the website was designed.

Again I had to use independent websites to find the location of a government building in Seoul (in this case, my neighbourhood's post office) and set off to find it. Once I found the post office, I got set packing all of my things into the largest of the boxes you can buy there for a nominal fee, with the intention of sending it to my house in Canada via the ultra slow, but relatively cheap "surface mail." However, since I lacked the necessary Korean language capability to request what is probably a rarely requested service, I was charged over $100 to send it through the air (AKA the money I was hoping to avoid spending by going to the post office in the first place).

* * * * *

Later that night I went to Hongdae to meet Scarlett and her friend (not Liz, the other one, I feel horrible that I keep forgetting her name). When I reached the station I tried to find the exit at which she told me to meet, but it didn't seem to exist. After a few phone calls, and a game of hide and seek, it became apparent that in all the stress and confusion of the last few days I had forgotten that she changed our meeting place last night, and so I was at the wrong station.

Eventually we met up in Sillim (I think I know the streets of Sillim better than my own neighbourhood I've been there so often), and Scarlett decided to take me out for naengmyeon. I was pretty excited because at that time, I had been asked about a dozen times if I had tried naengmyeon, and I would finally be able to say yes.

When I got my bowl, I was expecting something really spicy. Everything in Korea is hot and spicy it seems, and I kind of like that now. Much to my surprise though, naengmyeon is a bowl of buckwheat noodles in a tangy soup that has a bunch of ice floating around in it, but it's definitely not spicy.

I still can't believe it, but up until that point I had just thought it an ironic coincidence that the word for refriderator is 냉장고 - "naeng-jang-go." I had wondered on more than one occasion why something designed to keep food cold, would sound so similar to a hot, spicy Korean dish, but as soon as I saw the ice in the bowl I felt kind of stupid. (냉 "naeng" - mean cold.)

* * * * *

On the way home I had my first experience with a subway drunkard. This particular man had spread himself out on the bench occupying two seats for himself. A third and fourth seat were occupied by a combination of alcohol bottles, a bag, the sugared candies that used to be in the bag, and a bag of kimchi that the man had been eating with his hands. I'm not exactly sure what he had been drinking (and still drinking), but it had an incredibly strong camphorous scent, and the eyes of the poor guy sitting beside him were watering pretty badly.

As well as breaking the law, the drunkard was obviously breaking a strict sociatal code of ethics, or so I gathered from the looks of disgust and distain most of the older Koreans were throwing his way. He couldn't be bothered with that though, and so chose to try and pick a fight with theth the only guy kind enough to sit by him and put up with his state.

I'm not sure what was said, but the drunkard first started talking to the guy next to him, who was listening to music on his headphones and reading a book at that time. When the man couldn't hear him, the drunkard starting yelling at him, until he noticed the drunkard's voice and looked up. He was quite patient for some time in listening to and responding to whatever the drunkard was asking, and one would think the drunkard would have appreciated the man's kindness. Apparently that's not how drunkards think though, for he then started to get beligirent with the kind man. This especially offended a gentleman in his mid-sixties, sitting on the other side of the kind victim, who then became quite stern with the drunkard for his lack of manners. However this only served to spur the drunkard on more, and he once again directed more of his annoying behaviour towards the unfortunate young man literally caught in the middle.

At this moment, what I had been waiting to happen finally did happen, and the kimchi covered hand that the drunkard had been waving around started coming closer and closer to the young man's white shirt. Finally the young man's patience had worn too thin, and he stood up in disgust. The older man told him he should call the police, but the younger man said it was alright, although it was plain to see that he was rather upset. I smiled at him and asked him if everything was all right, which I like to think helped distract him enough so that he could calm down.

And with the show over just in time for me to get off at my station, I headed home to try and get some sleep before my big move the next day.

Episode 39: Sin Seung-hyeun, "The Fruit Guy"

I've made references in the past to getting discounts from a local fruit stand operator because of my Korean speaking "ability." Since that time we've become friends, and he even gave me a small bucket of kimchi his wife had made (and which I'm eating as I write this now). His name is Sin (pronounced "sheen") Seung-hyeun, and in honour of his kindness I have decided to dedicate an entire post to him.

Now, everyone who has read more than three of my posts over the last 9 months knows that I have made a lot of Korean friends. I am pleased with and grateful for each and everyone of the Koreans who have befriended me on my two journeys, but my real goal for coming to Korea in the first place was to live in a neighbourhood and get to know the local people there; in short, to become part of the community.

Finally I can say that this has come true. I recently watched TV with the cashier at the local food mart I frequent, my hair dresser doesn't even need to ask me what hair style I want any more because I have been in three times, and now the fruit guy's wife's kimchi.

Mission Accomplished!

(Mr. Sin lives in this home and travels all of three metres out his door to his fruit stand every day. It's a nice job, but probably a bit boring, as all he seems to do all day is sit around waiting.)

Episode 38: In Which DFM Gets Kicked Out Of A Restaurant, And Visits A Korean Doctor (Fish)

With less than a month to go, and essentially only the weekends to meet people, the race is on to try and see all of my friends one more time before I leave Seoul for Ulsan at the end of the month.

Back in September I leant Charles a couple of my favourite books and I wanted to get them back, so I figured I would start with him. Since I had planned to meet some friends in Gangnam at 6 PM, Charles suggested we have lunch there at 1:30 PM. Conveniently, he only lives a 5 minute walk away (I, on the other hand, live about an hour and twenty minutes away by subway).

(The Samsung corporate building in Gangnam. Or at least that's what Charles told me it was.)

I can't remember what Charles and I ate exactly, but it involved mixing a package of store bought ramyeun noodles into a stew of vegetables, ddeok, and some sort of mashed up meat scraps sausage that tastes a little bit like pepperoni.

Charles told me that back when Korea was poor (about 60 years ago), its people were forced to eat anything they could find. One of those "anythings" involved collecting leftovers from the American soldiers, and that's how this soup (I can tell you it's budae jjigae, now that I've looked it up) came about. Apparently, in one of the first budae jjigaes, or "ham and scraps stew" as its also known, there was even a used tissue from one of the soldiers. Funny story aside though, I'm continuously impressed with the resourcefulness of Koreans when it comes to making food.

As far as I can tell, the traditional Korean diet consists of little more than cabbage, pepper, seaweed and rice/ddeok. With these few ingredients, and some minor tweaks (like adding ramyeun noodles), there have grown unlimited combinations, tastes and textures. I will surely miss Korean food when I return to Canada.

After finishing the budae jjigae, we went to have ice cream at my favourite ice cream chain, The Cold Stone Creamery. I told Charles to order me a medium, but he came back with the large size. When I finished I was stuffed full, but then the girls working at the front brought us a couple of small sample cups each, and asked us to fill out a taste test questionnaire. If there's one phrase that summarizes my two visits to Korea most completely, it's "getting free food."

Stomachs overflowing with ice cream, we slowly waddled our way to the Kyobo book store nearby (can you tell I love books?). I bought about $50 in books, although I'm not sure why because I don't have time to read them right now, but I guess your DFM buys books like some women buy shoes.

More notable though, I also managed to get wrangled into getting a Kyobo book club card. I had been trying to avoid getting any "points cards" of any kind while I was here, but this one was free and would give me 10% off my first purchase (the one I just bought). I suppose now I'll have to come back to Korea a third time to redeem my points. "Darn!"

A couple of weeks ago I talked about meeting Seung-bok in Sillim and naming some of his friends. Last weekend, while I was waiting for Mitja to phone me, one of those friends, Elizabeth, called me to set up a date this week. When I showed up though, I was surprised to see Scarlett too.

(Scarlett, on the left, and Elizabeth.)

I was still full from the ice cream, but neither Scarlett or Elizabeth had eaten supper, so we set off in search of some dalkgalbi (sacrifices must be made I suppose).

In the past I have told people that I liked dalkgalbi, but I now realize what I meant was, dalkbokki (the barbecued chicken on a skewer). It wouldn't really matter either way, because both dalkgalbi and dalkbokki are Korean food dishes, so they are equally delicious.

While the food was delicious, the restaurant at which we were eating was very busy this night, and we were asked to leave shortly after finishing. So again we braved the wind that was blowing blustery to find another place to chat.

In Korean Cop's sister blog, Kindergarten Cop, I wrote about a cafe in Edmonton called Block 1912 Cafe. Actually I didn't write about it at all, I simply said that I went to a cafe. That cafe though is called Block 1912 Cafe, on Whyte Ave, but apart from Indigo Restaurant in Haeboncheon, nothing else in Seoul had come close to it. I had even been led to believe that Seoul exists entirely of Dunkin' Donuts, Paris Baguette bread shops, and expensive Starbuks-like cafe chains.

This night though, we stumbled upon a wonderfully large and bright cafe. I can't remember the name of it, but you could buy waffles and dangle your feet in a pool of doctor fish. I couldn't believe it! Waffles and hot chocolate, and doctor fish all in one place (you can see from the picture that the chairs are soft too). This could be the best cafe in the world. It's too bad I'll never be able to find it again on my own.

Episode 36: In Which DFM Goes Bouldering In Bukhansan

During this visit and my last visit I only managed to make it out to the mountains to climb twice (once each trip). I was hoping that I would be able to make it out at least two times this visit, but all of the Ace trips since my leg burning fall seemed to be multiple day camping trips, and I have been too busy lately to be able to afford to lose a weekend climbing. Fortunately, Ji-hyeun brought to my attention a half-day bouldering trip to Bukhansan (the large Park just North of Seoul that I used to hike frequently my last visit, and where I ran the half-marathon) that Ace was planning to take, and I jumped at the chance to not only get a second climbing trip in, but also my first serious outdoor bouldering experience.

Apparently the Ace climbers had just recently heard about the bouldering at Bukhansan a few weeks ago from a foreigner. I was rather surprised since I had known about the bouldering there for some time.

Speaking of KOTR, back in May I went to the outdoor climbing wall at Boramae Park with Perry. Just before I was about to leave, an American from Idaho came to the wall. His name was Tyler (I think), and he told me he was on KOTR as well. Just this week Tyler decided to start climbing at Ace, so it was quite a surprise to see him again on Monday. But I digress...

Obviously I had a good time bouldering, but my words could not do justice to the wonderful afternoon, so instead I'll show some pictures.

(Choi setting up the crash pads, while the other climbers have a "safety meeting." This reminds me of unionized road crews back in Alberta.)

(I know some crazies tried to climb up that mammoth boulder on the left, because I could see the chalk marks on all the "hand holds," or at least where someone thought there should have been a hand hold. Thankfully decided to stick to the baby boulder on the right.)

(Some of Ace's veteran climbers on a V2/V3.)

(A break for lunch. What would a Korean climbing trip be without a feast?)

(I hate when the hardest move is the first move.)

(Choi and Rina sending a V3.)

(A fun, overhanging V3.)

(Not even Choi could figure out the finish of this route.)

(Here, Perry's friend who climbed with me and Perry in the Boramae Park post, and whose name I still haven't learned, shows classic bouldering form on yet another V3.)

(Of course we all went out for a big meal afterwards. This is the same restaurant I've been going to with Ace for some time, but I finally figured out the name of this meal: Dalkhanmari.)

And thus ends another great day in Korea.

Episode 29: In Which DFM Brings Out The Dark Side In Korean Girls, And Chews The Heads Off Fish

The first couple of days of this week were marked by a "severe" cold snap. Severe that is for the Koreans, who were wearing winter coats inside, but I must say that 1 degree centigrade doesn't quite make for Arctic conditions where I usually live. That said, compared to the temperatures in the high teens we've been getting the previous week the change was still unpleasant. It also made me realise that I have a "clothing gap" between my light shell of a coat that doesn't really keep out the water when it rains, and my ski jacket that will probably be too warm even for the coldest of Korean winters. Luckily I noticed my local Korean sweat shop sells fleecy jackets that I might be able to get for a cheap price if and when the need arises.

With the cold weather, some Koreans have gone seemingly crazy. A Korean friend even told me that the two Seoul subway companies have a mental health counsellor on staff now because employee stress has risen as a result of dealing with the ever increasingly stressed out passengers.

How does this directly effect me? Well, the hard work the two Seoul subway companies spent to help create a respectful environment during my four month absence from Korea, seems to be for naught. On at least three separate occasions on Tuesday, an old Korean woman tried to sneak in to the subway train before even one person had left.

To put this in perspective, the behaviour of a fair number of Koreans in subways is rather rude by "Western standards," but a pet peeve of most of the "foreigners" I talk to is the fact that the people waiting outside the train will try to sneak in before everyone coming out of the train has left. I have to admit that I also get annoyed by this, but usually they only try to sneak on just before the last two people leave, so I can forget about it. What really irks me though, is when an old Korean woman (it's always an old Korean woman; they're the rudest of all Koreans, I'm sorry to say) gets paranoid and tries to push people out of the way to get to an empty seat that doesn't exist. It irks everyone else too, because most people would have given her their seat anyway (not me though, because they annoy me). On the subway on Tuesday though, I saw an old Korean woman try to sneak onto the train before the one person leaving had even taken a step. This man put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back off the train, and gave her a short lecture on not being rude. This man is my hero, and this moment was definitely the highlight of the week so far for me.

Another funny story involved Sticker Girl at my school (everyone remembers Sticker Girl, right?) The story involves a new teacher from Paris who I had to show around my school to give her an idea of what to expect and how to teach for my company. Since I knew it would be tough for her on her first day, I tried to get her to sit by a friendly child so that she could feel welcome. Unfortunately, I didn't think things through clearly because Sticker Girl was quite cold toward the new teacher. Afterwards she (the teacher) asked me what she had done wrong. I told her, "nothing, Sticker Girl has a crush on me, and she views you as the enemy because all the boys said you were pretty." The new teacher said "oh yes, I didn't realise that, she must really hate me." She's only 6 years old, but she's already mastered the Western female art of being overly jealous. Good work Sticker Girl.

In other exciting occurances, I met Perry again on Tuesday (Tuesday was a good day). He had been on a trip for the Korean government, leading a team of Korean youth up mountains in Italy, apart as well as being overly busy with his booming public speaking/personal motivation business. As a result he had not been climbing since July, but when he returned, it was "business as usual" and I went over to his house after climbing for some delicious food. This time his wife was not home, so we were forced to make do the best two "bachelors" can do. Perry bought some Korean spicy ramyeon noodles (which aren't so spicy for me any more) and tofu. He then mixed this all together with an egg and microwaved some fish that we ate head, bones, skin, tail and all, which is ironic since Koreans will peel all of their fruit before eating it because it's either sprayed with "chemicals" or "not delicious."

Episode 27: The Rest Of The Week

This week has been one of the busiest yet for me. I'm so tired I couldn't even come up with a clever title for this week. (I invite readers to suggest clever titles in the comments section.) That said, since I'm almost a week behind on my blogs I've decided to include the remaining three days of the week in this one post.

* * * * *

Wednesday:

Typically the Ace Climbing Competitions are held on the third Thursday of every month. However, for some reason this month's climbing competition was moved to this Wednesday.

When I used to attend Ace climbing competitions back in March and April, there were a significantly larger number of people there. Both last month and this month though I've noticed that the number of people attending the competitions seems to be getting less and less. Perhaps this is the "climbing season" and everyone is off in the mountains, and in winter the numbers will pick up again? Either way I'll keep coming even if I'm the only one.

Readers may remember that during the last competition I won fairly easily in the Intermediate category. This month I was "volunteered" for the the top Expert category by Choi. I wasn't that concerned however, since I was thinking of going in the category anyways.

My biggest worry about entering the Expert category this month though, was that the Expert problems from the last competition were impossibly difficult for me, and even after a month of practice I could not finish more than even two moves on any of the five problems. Choi must have realised this, because this time around the difficulty of the Expert category problems was much easier, and more or less right where it should have been considering the calibre of climbers in the category this time. Long story short, I had a very good competition and managed to tie for first place in the Expert category (I later lost on a tie-break for having one more total attempt than the eventual winner).

* * * * *

On an unrelated, but personally exciting story that I will include here, I met Jenny from Summit at Ace gym on Monday. I had no idea she would be at Ace, and in fact I was planning to go to Summit this Friday to see her there. When I first saw her though, I said to myself "wow, that woman looks a lot like Jenny," but was thrown off by what appeared to be a three-inch growth spurt she experienced over the last six months (she's older than me though, which is why it's so surprising). I tried to go over and get a closer look, but at that time she was climbing on a wall and I could not get a good look at her face. I decided to put it out of my mind and went back to climbing, however later we crossed paths again and she seemed more surprised than me to be meeting up again in this gym. Apparently her business had relocated to the area, and I may get to see a lot more of her in the near future. (Don't go reading anything into that statement though, I know how you readers think!)

* * * * *

Thursday:

After class on Thursday, Elise and I went for our regular, weekly trip for coffee. On our way to the coffee shoppe, Elise mentioned that she knew of a store where I could get my favourite Korean snack, waffles. At first I wasn't that impressed because I can get a waffle in almost any subway station. However, Elise insisted this place was special.

I don't know what the store was called, but in the picture you can see a large number of signs plastered to the window. The two large, full window yellow sheets on the left side of the store front is the nearly 100 choice menu. Keep in mind, this store only sells waffles.

I'm not sure if this is unique, or if other places in the world offer the same kind of deliciousness, but when you ask for a "wapple" in Korea you are not eating an Eggo on a plate with a knife and fork drenched in maple syrup. Rather, in South Korea the round waffles are quickly reheated in an iron, slathered on one side with a sweet apple syrup and then with whipped cream on the other. The waffle is then folded in half, wrapped in a small piece of paper and handed to the anxious, hungry customer to be devoured (click here to see this process in action). All of this is wonderful, and it takes place for less than a dollar.

Back to the story though. As I mentioned, this store in particular sells nearly 100 variation of these folded waffles including green tea ice cream and coffee flavours. Furthermore, there is a sign on the window that says "do not talk to us." You can't ask any questions, nor can you give any compliments. You are merely permitted to call your order into the microphone. You are handed a token with the number of your order on it and then you wait for you number to show up on the sign. Even when your number does come up you aren't allowed to say "thank you." The employee inside opens up a small window, holds out a basket and you put your money in the basket. Of course, when I first heard about this it sounded ridiculous, but when I saw it in person it was really quite funny. I will definitely be coming back here in the future to sample some of the other choices.

* * * * *

Friday:

This morning I woke up completely exhausted (that's not new though), but when I looked in the mirror my eyes were completely blood shot (that was). My eyes looked like an Interstate road map there were so many red lines; it was actually a little scary. While I have been working less than your average Korean, it seems the stresses of big-big city living (about 14 million people in the greater metropolitan area) and trying to teach over 120 students a day who don't actually speak the same language you do have started to take their toll. That said, I've managed to make it two months working around walking virus factories without getting seriously sick, so I think I am still doing alright.

As I mentioned earlier, I had planned to go to Summit Climbing Centre after work today to see Mr. Chang and everyone else. However, the night before, my room mate Lee told me that Aeri, Hyeun-a's manager whom I met in March, was getting married today and that she had invited me. The incredibly short notice and disappointment about not being able to climb aside, I figured it was a rare opportunity for a foreigner to experience a Korean wedding, and so I agreed to come along.

Obviously I can't speak for the rural areas in Korea, but weddings in Seoul weddings seem to happen as quickly and efficiently as just about everything else. This wedding hall could only be rented for a maximum of two hours, so to save time the bride was on display in her wedding dress for individual pictures with guests before the wedding. There were no bridesmaids or groomsmen at the wedding, nor was there even a best man or maid of honour. (Correction: there were none that I could see taking part in the ceremony, they may still have existed.) The groom walked down the aisle first, followed almost immediately by the bride and her father. The wedding process itself lasted only 18 minutes (I timed it), and even that probably could have been trimmed down a bit more - I heard the old man in charge of the proceedings say "happy" more than once, so he may want to work on that in the future. After the whole ring thing and the official pronouncement, the immediate family took a group photo with the bride and groom, followed by a group photo with friends in which I took part.

Now some notes on everything else. The groom looked particularly handsome in his tuxedo, but the bride chose to wear the standard Victorian style white wedding gown that almost every woman seems to wear to their wedding. For the record I hate these dresses and consider wearing one to a wedding as a justifiable grounds for the groom walking out before he even gets marriage. They're ridiculously expensive, and show a lack of judgement that could severely put the family and its children at risk in the future. Not only that, they look hideous. The trail was so long on this one, that the bride needed a personal assistant to pick the tail up and carry it around and then replace it for every photo if she moved even a step. Do I feel bad for making fun of the bride? Sure, she is my friend, but I just really hate wedding gowns (and weddings). To be honest though, I was a little surprised that she wore the dress, since I figured this would be one of those weddings in which the direct participants all wore hanboks (remember those colourful outfits the kids wore for Chuseok?), but that must be a family choice and not necessarily a cultural norm.

After the wedding there was a massive catered banquet. This was the real reason I think I was invited along in the first place (by Lee, not by Aeri). While I was told not to take part in the tradition, every guest is expected to pay money to the bride/groom as their gift, usually in the form of $50 to $100. If you don't pay you don't get a ticket to the buffet. The rationale is that on your own wedding day you will be repaid by your guests and so everything will work out. Lee is not necessarily happy about this custom, and told me the night before "don't eat a big lunch tomorrow because I need you to eat lots of food at the wedding so I can get my money's worth." I did my best and went back to the buffet table three times (not including desert). Lee later thanked me for my "sacrifice."

* * * * *

On Saturday (today for most of you reading this blog in Canada) I was supposed to take part in a blind date. However, the young woman in question apparently got sick and had to back out. I wasn't that worried though as I really just wanted to spend all day watching The Young Turks radio show on YouTube (which I did).

Koreans seem to be afraid of interacting in a friendly manner with strangers (I really have heard Koreans say they're afraid of it), so one of the few acceptable way for them to meet members of the opposite sex to marry is to be set up on a blind date by a mutual friend. These blind dates are actually called "meetings" by the Koreans. I only mention that because it leads to a funny story.

For my work I have to attend bi-monthly "tutorial" sessions in which I am given the materials to more effectively teach my lessons for the next two weeks. (Actually, during the time frame for the context of this story I was attending them every week.) The meetings are rather long, and until this week they took place in a completely different city called Bucheon. Consequently I could never climb on a day in which I had a tutorial. When asked why I couldn't climb by the members of Ace I used to tell them that I had a "meeting." For a few weeks until the misunderstanding was cleared up, all of the members of Ace thought I must be the most popular playboy in Seoul.

Episode 26: In Which DFM Goes To Heaven And A DVD Bang

One of the advantages (or disadvantages, depending on how you look at it) of studying my Korean textbook on the subway, is that on a regular basis some Korean will ask me if I'm studying Korean and try to start a conversation with me (typically those over thirty, the younger Koreans are too busy listening to their mp3 players or sms messaging).

A couple of weeks ago I met one Ms. Yun in this manner. Ms. Yun teaches kindergarten like me, but at a school for black children (Nigerian or American immigrants, etc.). It's the first time I found someone with a teaching job more rare than mine.

We were going to meet for her birthday later last week, but scheduling conflicts arose, so we decided to meet this last Saturday for kimbab (note: posting delays have made this event a week old now). I have, of course. had a lot of kimbab in my four total months in Korea. However, Ms. Yun took me to a special restaurant whose name translates into Kimbab Heaven. At first I felt this was just some more optimistic advertising, but I must say kimbab at Kimbab Heaven is every bit as delicious as the name would suggest.

Up until this point I had thought there were only two kinds of kimbab: The kimbab I can buy on the street with some vegetables and mayonnaise-like sauce, and the kimbab I eat at home which is only rice (bab) and seaweed (kim). However, at Kimbab Heaven there are well over thirty varieties of kimbab from which to choose. On this particular day I chose the tuna kimbab and the beef kimbab rolls and they were delicious. To be completely honest I never knew I could combine my love of tuna with my love of kimbab; it was amazing.

(At this point I should probably explain for those of you who forgot my last explanation seven months ago, that kimbab is basically sushi with the seaweed on the outside and the rice on the inside. I believe this is called a California Roll in America.)

I had thought that Ms. Yun would eat the kimbab with me, but she said she was already full so I was tasked with finishing off everything by myself. While I love kimbab, one roll (about twelve pieces) is a essentially a meal in itself, so I was quite pleased when I was able to stuff down twenty pieces and finish the soup and kimchi side dishes at the restaurant. I made sure to bag up the remaining four kimbab pieces for an evening snack.

After kimbab we went to find a DVD bang (bang is Korean for room, and is actually pronounced "bong") to watch a movie. Ironically Ms. Yun does not like Korean movies, so the DVD bang is her best opportunity to find the American films she do enjoy.

Ms. Yun had originally wanted to see a comedy, but there were no comedies there that I considered to be of any value, so I convinced her to watch The Bourne Supremacy instead (one of the finest American films ever made in my opinion). Since Ms. Yun had not seen The Bourne Identity (the first film in the trilogy, of which The Bourne Supremacy is the second) I had a fair bit of work to do at the begining, catching her up on the back story and all the references to characters from the first film both dead and alive. However, it was all worth it, as she now wants to see The Bourne Ultimatum on our next visit. This particular DVD Bang did not have The Bourne Identity for some reason, but luckily DVD bangs are a common as mosquitoes in Seoul (especially around the university areas) so I'm sure I can find it somewhere.

A few of you may be wondering what one gets as a reward for paying $12 to watch a DVD... not much. You get one free 200 mL beverage, and the luxury of sitting on a couch in a room the size of my first gosiwon, while a movie is projected in LD (low definition) on to the opposite wall, and the sound is buzzed through blown speakers. That said, the couch is quite comfortable, and you do get a matching ottoman on which to rest your legs.

While Saturday started out quite warm, by the time I reached Sillim-dong (you may remember this as the place I went to have sundae with Charles, Woojin, and Seong-bok some time back) the wind had picked up considerably. Most of the Seoulites have been wearing scarves and coats for a few weeks now, but my blood still had at least some of its formerly high Canadian living induced thyrosin levels and I was able to manage quite fine. However, on Monday I finally bit the bullet and put on a jacket. Some of my friends were quite surprised and thought I "would not wear a coat even in winter." (Note: Since this event I have gone back to wearing short sleeves again.)

One last exciting note: tangerines (mandarin oranges) are back! These have been really expensive since my return, but the season has started and Jeju island is pumping them out by the thousands again. Like buying clothes for less than the price of a cup of coffee (at Starbucks) in Korea, because they're made right in the store's own sweatshop in the basement, I never get tired of buying a bucket of fresh fruit shipped in that day for less than it costs me to buy 2 Litres of synthetically created "milk."

Episode 25: In Which DFM Feels As Though He Is Stuck Inside Of A Hollywood "Body Switchers" Movie, And Receives Mana From Heaven (Jjinpang Too)

With the "daily grind" starting to wear on me, this Friday I received "mana from heaven" in the form of a much needed day off from work. I'm still not sure exactly why I received a day off, but it had something to do with a teachers' convention type activity the school was holding.

Hyenii (the English teacher at the school with the convention) invited me to see a movie with her and her friends. Since long time readers will remember I've been trying to see a Korean movie in a Korean theatre since I first came here, I of course jumped at the chance.

The movie was called Season of Good Rain (well, that was the English translation anyways). It was about a Korean business man on a trip to China for his construction company. The company had a contract to rebuild part of the country, after a devastating earthquake the year before. While there, he runs into a woman he used to have feelings for while they both studied in America. Over the course of the film, the man tries very hard to rekindle the possibly romantic feelings they both shared while studying in America. However, in a cruel twist of fate the woman is constantly riddled with guilt over having feelings for her old friend on this, the one year anniversary of her husband's death in the very earthquake that brought the man there in the first place.

We had chosen this film because I said I wanted to see something Korean. Ironically though, since the Chinese woman could not speak Korean, and the Korean man could not speak Chinese (in the film anyways), all of the dialogue between the two characters was carried out in English.

The Chinese woman's English was not overly strong, but she managed alright. I could tell though that the Korean man had studied quite a bit, as his timing and pronunciation were almost "fluent." Unfortunately some of the scenes lost a bit of their emotional value, since the "timing" and stressing/accenting of the phrases were just a hair off, and consequently did not quite convey the same meanings they should have. Knowing it would be an utter disaster if just about any Westerner I knew were to try and act out an entire movie in Korean or Chinese, I still had a lot of respect for the actors for trying.

After the movie Hyenii and her two friends (both females) asked me about my thoughts on the film. They were a little disappointed though, as my strongest feelings revolved around the use of a panda in the obligatory montage scene. Pandas, as I explained, are in my opinion the most pointless animals on Earth (from an evolutionary perspective), in that they are more or less unwilling to defend themselves, and eat a diet of nutrientless bamboo. They still remain on the planet almost solely because of human intervention, and will probably be welfare mamas for the rest of the species' time on Earth.

* * * * *

I also had made plans to go back to Namhee's church this night. In-hye had told me on Sunday that Scott Brenner (a famous American Christian musician) was coming to give a performance at her church this day, and I told her I would come.

I wondered about the wisdom of inviting an English speaker to sing to a congregation consisting entirely of Koreans. However, continuing with the day's theme of irony, Scott Brenner sang about 85% of his songs in Korean. He has a Korean wife, and his ministry has been based out of Korea for over ten years. I really didn't see that one coming.

The Scott Brenner event was exciting, and the church band and back up singers were really impressive as they had no problem playing any of Scott Brenner's songs. Furthermore, I have yet to see normally quite reserved Koreans make that much noise and approximations of dancing at a church. Indeed I have been to a Van Halen concert in Edmonton, Alberta, that was a funeral compared to tonight.

The first hour was really lively, but since the concert started at 8:00 PM at the end of a long week, it was inevitable that the overworked Koreans would start to die out after that. The whole event lasted until 10:30 PM, by which time most of the once lively audience members (including myself) were sitting down and trying not to fall asleep.

I had hoped to get something to eat with In-hye after the concert, but it was quite late, and I had still had to get back to the subway station before the trains stopped running from there (it was at the end of the line, and would be one of the first stations to end service).

At home I knew I only had some rice and an apple to eat, and I had not eaten this day since lunch, so I was pleasantly surprised and relieved when I saw a jjinpang merchant in my neighbourhood on the way home.

As I've mentioned in the past, street vendors seem to offer specific food with the seasons - every season will see a new fruit and/or snack becoming popular. Since my first taste of the sweet mashed up maggots-like bean paste inside a steamed bun back in March, I have been having withdrawals. But tonight I was able to get three Pizza Pocket sized jjinpang buns for about $1.50, making this one of the best days yet.

Episode 15: In Which DFM Meets A Movie Star, And Goes To A Place Where Everyone Knows His Name

In Canada I go to church every Sunday, but in Korea I find it a little intimidating to find a new church when I'm not even sure what is being said. However, last week and this week I have been fortunate enough to be invited to different churches by some new friends I have met.

Last week I was invited to Sarang Church in Gangnam by the English teacher at one of my schools. Even though Gangnam is more than an hour away from my home I felt that a month without going to church might be hard to justify to even the most liberal of Christians (which Korean Christians are not).

During my last visit I went to the largest church in the world. While Sarang Church is not as big as the Yeouido Full Gospel Assembly, it still has a large enough following to host five services. It also has a large "foreigner" population and holds three English(ee) services in a separate church down the street.

The English sermon was delivered by a guest pastor from California. Himself a Korean emigrant, he was apparently Jim Carey's Korean dialect coach for the movie Yes Man, and even had a small, one-line part in the film as a professor, but Jim Carey stole his one line.

While most Korean sermons deal almost exclusively with little more than the basic Christian principles (trust God, don't worry, be happy, etc.), this guest pastor made a concerted effort to deliver a message that was well researched and actually practical to the lives of the Christians in attendance. It was also chalk full of funny jokes, but experience has taught me Christians generally lack a sense of humour, and this congregation definitely supported that theory.

This week I had the privilege of attending the church of my friend Namhee. Namhee is a Korean I met in Canada while he was studying English. He is still in Canada, but wanted me to visit his family in Korea at his church.

I was picked up at the subway station by two of his friends. They drove me to the church and introduced me to the pastor, who already knew my name (apparently I had been expected). During the service, Namhee's two friends tried to translate for me as best as possible. I also knew enough Korean to figure out on my own that the pastor, at least at one point, was trying to suggest that Christians are supposed to be happy, but many Korean people are not happy but instead continuously walk around looking and feeling tired (probably because they don't sleep more than three hours a night).

One of the highlights of the experience was being able to sing along to the songs. During my past visit I went to April's church and was not able to follow along even to the slower hymns - my reading speed was just too slow. Today though, I was able to just barely scrape by, and could usually pick up enough of the words to sound like I knew what I was doing by the third time through the chorus (the words are on a large video screen at the back of the stage).

After service, I finally met Namhee's sister and her husband. Namhee's brother-in-law had studied English in my home town a few years ago, and it was he who had recommended the place to Namhee (I'm not sure why). Both Namhee's sister and brother-in-law were very nice, and after church they took me out to try some jjimdak.

(Namhee's sister is the one on the left.)

Jjimdak literally means "steamed chicken." The dish includes large chunks of steamed chicken mixed together with various steamed vegetables and red gochu pepper. Namhee's brother-in-law warned me that the red gochu peppers were exceptionally spicy, but after having burned off my taste buds with the green gochu peppers at Thursday's climbing competition these red peppers failed to even make my tongue tingle.

Next Sunday I will go back to the Sarang church to experience what a regular sermon is like (with the usual pastor preaching), and also to buy a Korean/English dual language Bible with which to follow along in the sermons and study Korean. However, I really enjoy the friendly atmosphere at Namhee's church and will probably go there most Sundays - it's closer, and saves me from having to ride the dreaded No. 2 Line that is always packed.

Episode 14: In Which DFM Kills 3 Birds With 1 Stone, and Eats Pig's Blood And Liver Loaf

Since my weekdays are invariably spent going to work meetings or climbing, that leaves only the weekends to try and catch up seeing all of my friends who keep asking me to have lunch with them.

Last week I went to Gwanghwamun with my Korean friend from Canada, Charles. This week I had promised Charles I would meet him again, but I also needed to meet Sung-bok and Woojin (not the Phys Ed teacher) for the first time since coming back, too. So I hatched a grand scheme to try and have all four of us meet in the same place for lunch. However, getting four people together at the same time, in the same place, in a city as big as Seoul is no easy task. We finally did find an agreeable time and location, but ironically I was late for the meeting, as I had forgotten where we had decided to meet and at what time.

Sillim-dong is an administrative district of Gwanak-gu, which is home to Gwanak Mountain (where I went hiking with Perry back in March). In Sillim-dong, there is a special neighbourhood called Sundae Town, which is famous for its many sundae restaurants. Now, before you get the wrong impression and think we went for ice cream, I think an explanations of sundae is in order.

Sundae (pronounced "soon-dae") is an ancient Korean dish made by stuffing pig intestines with cellophane noodles (made from sweet potato), barley, and pig's blood. At our meal there was also some liver cut to look like a small meat loaf, and I was told there were even some "sausages" made from pig's stomach too. All of these ingredients were fried together at our table (what else would you expect in Korea?) with some sauces, spices, and various vegetables. Ample ssam - lettuce leaves for wrapping the meat, as in eating ssamgyeupsal - were provided, along with some ssamjang (spicy red paste in which to dip the already spicy meat).

As usual, the waitress was worried the food would be too spicy for me, but compared to gochu pepper or maeuntang (the soup with the fish head), it did not even register. At the end of the meal I had made a pig ("hero") of myself by finishing off the whole pan.

The experience was also beneficial in that it allowed me to repay Charles, Seong-bok (I've been calling him Sung-bok, but that's not exactly correct), and Woojin for having paid for the last meals we had together either together or separately (I've owed Seong-bok and Woojin a debt since April). In Korean culture, bills are rarely split, and friends will take turns buying meals for each other under the assumption that things will work out evenly in the end. Granted, it's not a fool proof system, but when in Korea...

After the meal I had to head over to Home Plus at the World Cup Stadium again and pick up some more necessary supplies. (If you remember my visit here in the first adventure I mentioned that since Koreans don't watch enough soccer to make the multi-million dollar stadium profitable, someone gained permission to put a two-floor mega-market inside under the bleachers.)

On this day, the Stadium happened to be host to the Asian Song Festival. At first I thought the hundreds of people exiting the station were for a soccer match, but there were no ticket booths set up, and the 10:1 ratio of high school and middle school girls to men seemed to suggest otherwise. I felt it might be something worth seeing, since it definitely seemed large, but soon remembered that I hate modern music and while some Korean pop songs are catchy, it couldn't possibly be worth giving up an entire evening to watch.

I was, however, intrigued by the mobile phone game convention set up in front of the stadium. Hundreds of Koreans were standing in long lines to have a chance to play a game on a TV screen using their "hand pones" (cell phone). Playing games on a four square-inch screen with tiny control buttons seems pointless. I am also fascinated by some Korean hand phones' ability to pick up TV channels, but not when the people watching them are walking slowly in front of me, blocking the hallway to head to my next subway train.

Lee (my roommate) and his wife, however, made the mistake of actually going to the Festival. When they came home, Lee complained about how far away the seats were (on the other side of the football stadium from the stage), and his wife complained that nobody was dancing. Lee later explained that twenty to thirty years ago people used to dance, but then the police could not control the crowd and someone died, so now no one dances. Essentially then, just another in a long list of Korean over-reactions to non-threatening situations (refer to the escalator story from one of my earlier posts, and don't even get me started on Electric Fan Death).