Sorry For The Delay

I've been having some computer problems, which means I cannot access my pictures. Hence the delay in posting. I'll have the remainder of the posts up as soon as my computer is fixed (hopefully within the week). Thanks for your patience.

Episode 48: In Which DFM Waits Three Hours For A Train, And Makes The JWs Hate Homeless People

I had planned to sleep in and hang around Tyler's house on Wednesday, January 6th, until my scheduled train at 1:30 PM. However, I had forgotten that Tyler had to go to work early in the morning, so I would have to get up early to leave with him at 9:30 AM.

While I was at the station, trying to pass the three hour wait for my train, I made many new acquaintances, despite my best efforts to simply read a book by myself on a bench.

There was the homeless person who, despite my clearly not understanding anything he said, still sat beside me and kept trying to talk to me. Eventually I heard him tell me in Korean that he was hungry, so I pulled out a tangerine I had in my bag and gave it to him. With this he said "I'm happy" in English - possibly one of the few English phrases he knew. After this he tried to say more, but a Jehovah's Witness sat down beside me and told him to go away.

There was also the other homeless person who walked up to me, stuck his middle finger in my face and started yelling at me. He then kicked my suitcase with his boot and yelled some more. I took it all in stride and, after I let him calm down a bit, he stuck out his hand to shake mine and then walked off.

At the same time that the above ordeal was taking place, another Jehovah's Witness who had just been telling me how important it was to show love to my neighbour as Jesus would, told me not to talk to talk to the man and ran to call the police. She later told me that she really hated the homeless people around the station. I guess Jesus only loved white tourists and/or other "respectable" people.

This cloud did have a silver lining though, as the aforementioned JWs bought some lunch for me because I actually let them talk to me. I appreciated this a lot because I was too cheap to actually buy my own lunch, and was planning to attempt the entire 5.5 hour ride with only five small tangerines (mandarin oranges) to tide me over.

When I was finally able to board my train, I was surprised to find all of the cars packed with people. I had assumed the long travel time would have dissuaded most travellers, but I guess there are still a whole train load of Koreans as cheap as me. To make matters worse, at each subsequent station the number of people exiting the train seemed to be matched or, in some cases, even exceeded by the number of people on the platform waiting to get on the train. At the worst of times this meant people were standing in the aisle, while at the best of times I still felt rather uncomfortable. Oh well, with a ticket price of roughly $26, compared to the ticket price of an equivalent length bus ride in Alberta ($55), it's hard to complain too much.

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 46: In Which DFM Makes A Gold Coin, And Jesus Glows In The Dark

On Saturday I did something I haven't done since April - sight seeing.

First stop was the Bank of Korea Museum (above). I didn't even know this place existed, and neither did most of my Korean friends when I told them about it, but it's definitely one of those "hidden gems" (hiding on a major street, in down town Seoul, right beside the Bank of Korea).

The Bank of Korea is not actually a place where you can store your money. Rather, like the Bank of Canada, its main function is to control inflation by adjusting the interest rate. The Bank of Korea Museum, though, is designed to educate visitors about the history of the Bank of Korea, how money is created and protected from counterfeiting, as well as showcasing the evolution of money throughout history, and exhibiting various examples of currency from around the world.

The most interesting educational exhibit showcased what happens to bills once they are no longer usable.

(Stage 1: 100% cotton Korean banknotes are printed at the Bank of Korea.)

(Stage 2: Banknotes are used.)

(Stage 3: Banknotes become damaged and unusable.)

(Stage 4: Banknotes are shredded.)

(Stage 5: Shredded banknotes are pressed into rolls.)

(Stage 6: Banknotes turned into compressed flooring or sound insulation for cars. The floor panel on the left weighs about 4.8 kg, and consists of roughly $43 000 worth of destroyed Korean banknotes.)

(Here we have the official scale used by the Bank of Korea to weigh gold. The last time this was used was as recently as 1997, when the Bank of Korea bought gold from citizens in an attempt to stimulate the economy after many Asian markets crashed.)

(This is a working press used to make coins.)

(For a nominal fee one can buy a gold plated tin sheet and insert it into the press.)

(I assume that the real press would have punched this coin out, but here I am with a nice imprint of a yeop jeon "leaf coin.")

(A copy of the first banknote ever printed, in China.)

(Speaking of money from China, here we have horse hoof-shaped silver coins. I can't believe these didn't catch on.)

(Korea has had its own silly money too. This is a silver vase supposedly shaped like the Korean peninsula.)

(The shortest lived banknote design in Korea's history. 24 days after it was created, the design was changed. Additionally, if you look closely, and can read hangeul, you'll notice that the bill doesn't say 100 won. It's actually 100 hwan, which was the name of the currency in Korea for a short period between 1953 and 1962. 100 hwan would have equalled 1000 won at the time, which in turn would have amounted to anywhere from 1 2/3 USD to 8 cents, depending on which year this bill was printed - inflation devalued the hwan 2083% between 1953 and 1962.)

(During times of emergency, central banks are allowed to change the value on bills simply by stamping them, rather than have to take the taking the time and money to reprint them. Central banks are even allowed to use/change foreign currency into local currency in this manner if required.)

(A North Korean 1 won bill. I assume this is priceless, as in worth $0.)

(The Bank of Korea has samples of money from every country in the world. Switzerland has, by far, the best looking money of any country, although I must say that even judging impartially, the new Canadian bills compare quite favourably.)

* * * * *

After leaving the Bank of Korea I headed over to the Seoul Metropolitan Museum of Art (SeMA). Already having visited the Leeum Samsung Museum of Art during my first visit to Seoul, I should have quit while I was ahead. Despite the promising name, the Seoul Metropolitan Museum of Art was notably underwhelming.

For a mere $0.65 I was allowed to view the "Against the Sculpture: Three Dimensions of Uncertainty" exhibit on the main floor. This was one of those modern, "strange art" exhibits, where nothing inside actually looks like art, but you are told it represents something and that you should admire it because the artist, by virtue of being an artist, clearly knows better than you what makes something "art." I tried to keep an open mind, but generally consider putting the best piece of art first a bad business move, and that's what happened here.

After the amazing display of charcoal suspended from string to form four different water droplets in various stages of "free fall"/destruction, things took a turn for the worse (sorry for the lack of images, but I wasn't allowed to take any pictures).

The next exhibit consisted of some pyramidal shapes attached to a wall, and then I saw a Roman pillar on a metal track being pulled slowly back and forth by a motor. Apparently this was supposed to symbolize... actually I can't remember, but I assure you that it did not make any sense.

Unfortunately, the slow moving pillar was like bungee jumping compared to the plain, A4 white paper "building" that someone built. It may have been interesting if it had some doors or windows drawn on, or even any features at all. However, it was just the shape of a building made out of regular, unfolded, taped together A4 paper. It seriously looked like someone's Junior High art class project that he/she didn't finish.

The award for worst stereotype of a useless artist though, definitely goes to whoever made the display of tools (screw driver, hammer, etc.) hung on a wall. Fortunately I was then put out of my misery, as this was the last exhibit in the gallery. However, as I now felt rather disappointed (it may have been only $0.65, but that was an hour I'll never get back), I tried to salvage the thirty minute walk over by shelling out the $12 extra needed to see the two floor Andy Warhol exhibit.

Even though the majority of Andy Warhol's works seemed to be of either Campbell's soup cans, or pictures of famous figures he then painted, they weren't boring. That said, more or less nothing in the exhibit looked like it took any talent at all, but merely took the gall to call it art. Andy Warhol openly admits this though, and that's why I didn't feel like my intelligence was being insulted. "Art is anything you can get away with," and "An artist is someone who produces things that people don't need to have but he - for some reason - feels it would be a good idea to give them," were just two of Warhol's quotes painted on the walls around the galleries. The exhibit culminated in a black lit tent full of many glowing Jesuses, all drawn with Andy Warhol's urine.

Episode 45: In Which DFM Gets 8 Beds, And Then Protests Christmas

After a full and busy week, I decided to take a day off on Christmas. I barely ate anything other than a few tangerines, because I didn't want to help support a culture of working on Christmas by eating at a restaurant or buying anything or taking any form of public transportation. In fact to protest Christmas (er... I mean the "war on Christmas"), I didn't leave the house at all.

I did figure it was time to take some pictures of my new hostel though. The hostel at which I am now staying is run by a Mr. Lee, and he is helped out by his mother, younger brother, and to a lesser extent father. It's incredibly clean, and everything is brand new, so it all works. The location is almost right dead in the centre of Seoul, so it's very convenient too. Looks like I got lucky on this one.

Unbeknownst to me, when I moved to my new place it was the first day the hostel had been open. I was the hostels second customer ever, and so not surprisingly I was the only person in my room.

(I was told that I could use all eight of the eight beds in my room, but I was "nice" enough to just use two.)

(The clean and inviting common room, where free breakfast is served every day and where there's free cable, internet, DVD player access, plus a suitcase full of DVDs.)

(The patio just after I arrived. Yes, it's raining.)

(The patio later that night, after a "heavy" snow that forced many Koreans to put chains on their tires... unfortunately that wasn't a joke.)

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 43: In Which DFM Hears Wooden Bells, And Drinks $9 Tea

Today (Tuesday the 22nd) was my last day of work in Korea. As I mentioned in a previous post too, today was also the Christmas "song festival" at my school all all of the students and teachers have been busy preparing the last couple of weeks.

Here you can see all of the teachers dressed up as "Santa grandmother," as they get ready to play a fantastic rendition of "Silent Night" on the wooden "noise makers" they have in their hands. Each "bell" makes a different tone, based on how long it is. I'm not sure what they're called, but they sure were a complicated way to make music.

After I was finished for the day, the principal gave me a nice pair of gloves and announced over the intercom that all the teachers should leave their classes to come say good-bye to me. It was all rather touching, and almost makes me wish I wasn't finished... almost.

After work I went to meet Hyenii and some other friends from MEC. Hyenii told me that she would not be able to come to the fair well party MEC was holding for me next Tuesday, so she wanted one last opportunity to say good-bye.

I'm not sure why, but we went to some area in Seoul called Sinsa-dong. The area is famous for its many fashion stores, which in turn attract many women. In the summer, the street cafes are apparently filled with women, and the streets themselves filled with men driving expensive cars back and forth trying to impress those women.

Part of the problem with areas that fashion themselves on being "European," is that they bring with them European prices. The Korean restaurant we went to was still as cheap as any other, but the cafes were another story.

After our meal we decided to sit down and talk over a cup of tea or coffee, but at the cafe Hyenii chose, the tea cost $8-$9, and the water was more than $10! I assume being from Norway gives it an extra molecule of oxygen (but not hydrogen, that would make it hydrogen peroxide).

While initially reluctant to hand over my $9, I was later relieved when I receive an actual pot of tea, not just a cup. Even better, the tea was delicious and I received a refill of hot water for my tea leaves. That said, $9 is a ridiculous price to pay for something that probably cost 10 cents.