Homeward Bound

An airport lounge is not the place for a lengthy blog post, so I'll just say this:

Go to Singapore. Go. Go now. Trust me. You'll love it. Go.





















































Why are you still here? Go!

Malaysia

beaches
sea turtles
sharks
curry
towers
birds
caves
Chinatowns
Little Indias
fruit shakes
mangosteens +

awesome.

Next up: Singapore.

Overload, pt. 2

Cambodia. Kampuchea. Land of the Khmer.

Best surprise to date? The food. Coconutty. Curries. Ridiculously fresh fish. It's quite similar to Thai food, and just as delicious.

Most sobering moment? S-21, Tuol Sleng. The special prison (formerly a high school) where Pol Pot's police would interrogate (torture) prisoners before bringing them out to the killing fields to kill and bury. I've visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC, and while that brought about many of the same sentiments and questions, there's something particularly powerful when you're standing in the places where the atrocities were committed, and not all that long ago.

It seems that every place I go these days raises more question than it answers, which is probably a good thing. One of the things the genocide museum at Tuol Sleng emphasized is that the techniques used by Pol Pot's regime were not all that different from those used by Stalin's or Hitler's- or, I think it's safe to say, by the North Koreans today. when you create a culture of fear and mistrust, people tend to comply to protect themselves or their loved ones. I'm interested in learning more about the specifics of Cambodia's civil war, but I'm also curious to learn more about the patterns in general. Any reading recommendations would be appreciated.

Best place in Cambodia to get a sunburn? Rabbit Island, which is either in the South China Sea or the Gulf of Thailand- our map is a bit sketchy on this point. At any rate, Rabbit Island is a 20 minute boat ride from the town of Kep, which itself is on the coast, about 3 hours by bus from Phnom Penh. 3 hours, of course, assuming your bus doesn't break down on the way there, in which case your 3 hour bus ride will become an 8 hour bus ride. Just a little something to keep in mind. I suppose it's equally possible for your bus to break down on the ride back, but this is not something that's happened in my (admittedly limited) experience, so I'll caution you instead about the ride down.

Rabbit Island itself, though, is a beautiful little island with some nice beaches, warm water, and even a little bit of snorkelling. There are a couple of small restaurants on the sand, where the proprietors will be more than happy to stuff you with fresh shrimp and fish (eyes still on!).

Most jaw-droppingly, eye-openingly awesome place to visit? Angkor Wat, Siem Reap. The remains of old temples and palaces, Angkor Wat was the foundation of the Khmer Empire, which had a million people when London had roughly 50,000 (thanks, Lonely Planet!). If you've seen Tomb Raider, you've seen some of Angkor Wat. Moss-covered buildings, stunning rock carvings, giant tree roots wrapping themselves around 1000 year old statuery...my words cannot do it justice.

We have one more day in Siem Reap, during which we intend to explore the town itself, then onto Bangkok.

L'aventure continue...

Overload, pt. 1

Where to begin? The past two weeks have been strange and fun and emotional for a million different reasons, but I'll try to start from the top and work through them. Bear with me.

North Korea: scary, fascinating, indecipherable. I didn't know much about the country going in, and I feel like I left it knowing even less. It was a one-day tour to the town of Kaesong, North Korea, with a population of 350,000 people, apparently. I want to stress the ostensible nature of the population count because, to my inexpert eyes, the town was considerably smaller than North Bay, Ontario, which has an estimated population of 70,000 people. Even if we assume every residence in Kaesong is crammed to the brim with occupants (not an unreasonable assumption, perhaps), it still seems unlikely to get anywhere near the stated total.

I'm focusing on the population figures here, not because they're necessarily all that important in and of themselves, but because they show one of the problems inherent in visiting "The Last Stalinist Regime" in order to learn about it: you have no idea what's true and what's not. In addition to Kaesong, we also visited a small Buddhist temple, at which we saw a Buddhist monk. Since I was under the impression that all religion is banned in the country (Kim Jong-Il and his father, Kim Il-Sung, are the only worshippable entities), however, I asked my (South) Korean tour guide about it, and he confirmed my suspicions, saying that the "monk" was actually an actor there to give the appearance of freedom of religion. Interesting, no?

It's difficult to infer too much from one day, but here are some other observations/speculations:
-all the North Koreans we saw were very thin, likely a consequence of the famine of the late 1990s, early 2000s, in which hundreds of thousands- if not millions- of people are said to have died.
-other than our tour buses, the government cars escorting them, and a few army vehicles, we saw almost no motorized transport at all. A few people had bicycles, but the vast majority of North Koreans seem to get around exclusively on foot, not that there would often be much cause for them to travel distances that require anything more than that.
-due, no doubt, to the scarcity of motor vehicles, the air was crisp and clean.
-we saw very few businesses at all. A movie theatre, a department store (with two or three articles of clothing in the display window) and a barber shop are all that come to mind right now. It's most definitely not a country operating on an open capitalist model, not that that should really surprise anyone.
-It's a scary place, not that that should really surprise anyone either. At the border, returning to South Korea, the guards checked everyone's digital cameras to ensure nobody had taken photos of things they shouldn't. I had taken a couple of pictures of a traffic cop and some of private residences- these were deleted from my camera. By not even the wildest flights of imagination could these have been construed as security risks or containing sensitive information, yet the guards acted as though I had taken compromising picture of Kim Jong-Il himself.

Recommended reading: The Aquariums of Pyongyang. Chol-Hwan Kang spent 10 years in a North Korean prison camp before being released. He later escaped to South Korea, then wrote a book about his experiences. Check it out.

334 down, 31 to go

It seems a little strange, but my year in Korea is very nearly up. This time one month from today, I'll be zipping up my backpack and preparing to go to Cambodia and other magical places.

So now, 11 months since my arrival in the Hermit Kingdom, I once again find myself in the position of figuring out what to do next. Fortunately, for the moment I've made my decision: procrastinate. I'm putting off most thoughts of the future until my triumphant return to Toronto two months from now.

This past weekend was spent in Seoul. We had Monday off for Children's Day, and I have a friend visiting from home at the moment, so the timing for a three-day weekend was most opportune. You can also expect a guest column from Sara-Jane later this week.

Random thoughts on Seoul:

I've been there a few times now over the course of the year, and it's always been an enjoyable experience. I like the opportunity to get out of Busan for a couple of days, and Seoul has a cosmopolitan vibe that my "hometown" doesn't. It's not just more international, though that's certainly true. Rather, Seoul as a city emanates a certain confidence lacking in Busan. There's a vitality, a vibrancy to the city which makes it a great place to visit. Museums, restaurants, palaces...I like it.

Having said that, I do like Busan, and in some ways I'm pleased not to live in Seoul. For all its attractions, it's much easier to live a Western lifestyle there, and I suspect I would have fallen even more deeply into that trap than I have in Busan, where one is forced to practice rudimentary Korean regularly, and where Korean food is about all one can eat in many corners of the city.

On a different note, one of the sites we visited in Seoul this weekend was the Seodaemun Prison Museum. During the Japanese occupation of Korea, it's where the political prisoners would be taken, tortured, and often murdered. It is, as one might suppose, a sombre site. However, I left it feeling dissatisfied because of the overall tone of the museum. It's clear that the museum founders and curators have striven to convey an understanding of the horrors committed there and what it was like for the prisoners. This does come through, but not always in the manner they might have intended. I found there to be a certain low-budget theme park feeling to the museum at odds with the respectful tone they might have intended. Many of the cells have animatronic figurines sticking bamboo spikes under fingernails, or screaming mechanically, and one is not allowed to forget, even for a second, that the Japanese were the ones committing these atrocities. One of the cells has been reproduced as an execution chamber, which isn't a bad idea, but visitors are encouraged to sit on a stool which suddenly drops four inches. Presumably, this is to show what it might feel like to be hanged, but instead it gives more an impression of a house of horrors in Niagara on the Lake. So that was a little strange.

We also went to a microbrewery which featured the best beer I've had in Korea. The most popular Korean beers are OB, Cass, and (s)Hite, and are generally even less flavourful than the Molson/Labatt/Budweiser stuff one might find back home, so it was a great relief to try a nice brown ale and a stout that actually had some colour and taste. Hurray for microbreweries!

Oh- and I learned recently that (apparently) Koreans weren't allowed to travel outside of Korea until the late 1980s. I intend to investigate this further; the results will be published here as they become available.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 9

Our questions today come from Carrie in Québec City, who wonders:
a) If Koreans have something similar to a boite à chansons,
b) What feminism looks like in Korea, and
c) If "ethnic" food in Korea is American style food.

The Waeguk Responds:

Those are all good questions, Carrie, and each is worth answering, so let's start from the top.

a) For those readers who haven't spent much time in French Canada, a popular place to spend an evening is a boite à chansons. It's usually just a small pub or bar with live music. It's often just a solo guitarist who plays a selection of traditional French Canadian tunes and contemporary (And classic) francophone and anglophone hits. The crowd is often encouraged to sing along (especially during the chorus), and frequently requests songs as well.

While there are venues here which feature live music, there isn't anything that quite resembles the above, even if one were to substitute the word "Korean" for "French Canadian." However, Koreans do have their own form of musical entertainment: the 노래방! Pronounced "norae bang," this translates literally into "song room," and is the Korean form of karaoke. Although reasonably popular in Canada, Canadian karaoke bears little resemblance to its Korean cousin. Typically in North America, karaoke is held in generic bars, perhaps once a week, every second Sunday, or somesuch. Western karaoke involves singing to the entire bar: friends, strangers, and whoever else happens to be within earshot. By contrast, the noraebang is an establishment devoted exclusively to karaoke, and is broken into small rooms, each of which is equipped with its own karaoke machine and sound system, and seats roughly 5-15 people. In other words, one sings exclusively to and with one's drinking mates, which can make for a considerably less daunting experience for those who are not musically inclined. Even your humble waeguk correspond has taken the microphone on occasion to belt out some Human League or Offspring, despite his low self-esteem.

Karaoke is almost infinitely more popular here than in Canada. I would estimate there are at least half a dozen noraebangs within a 10 minute walk from my apartment, and my neighbourhood is by no means unusual in this respect.


b) My initial reaction to the question of feminism in Korea was that it's kind of like Canada's 1950, 1975, and 2008 all rolled into one. This isn't a question I feel overly qualified to answer, but since I'm the only waeguk many of my readers know, I'll do my best to at least give you an idea of the status of women here, if not the state of feminism per se.

Domestic violence is quite common here, sadly. On more than one occasion I've been at a bar and seen a man either hit or threaten to hit his wife. It happens fairly frequently, and also quite openly. I was talking about it one day with a Korean friend, who acknowledged that it's a big issue. She also said that her first reaction when she witnesses it, and that of many of her female friends, is to wonder, "what did the woman do [to deserve being hit]?"

I want to be careful not to overstate the case - I'm by no means suggesting that all Korean men beat their wives. However, I think there is an implicit acceptance, especially among the older people, that has fortunately fallen by the wayside in Canada.

Based only on my own anecdotal evidence, I can tell you that my male and female students seem equally interested in gaining a university and education and becoming doctors and lawyers- the prestige professions. From what I have seen, women are generally encouraged to go into post-secondary education, but are just as encouraged to quit their jobs once they marry or have children.

The U.S. Department of State notes that Korean

"law forbids discrimination on the basis of gender, religion, disability, age, social status, regional origin, national origin, ethnic origin, physical condition or appearance, marital status, pregnancy and child delivery, family status, race, skin color, thought or political opinion, record of any crime for which punishment has been fulfilled, or sexual orientation or medical history, and the government generally respected these provisions. However, traditional attitudes limited opportunities for women, persons with disabilities, and ethnic minorities. While courts have jurisdiction to decide discrimination claims, many of these cases were instead handled by the National Human Rights Commission."

Furthermore, there existed until 2005 a law which made women "legally subordinate to the male household head." 2005! Studies indicate that a woman typically earns 64% of what a man does in a comparable job, and polls show that "79% of women have experienced some form of discrimination in the workplace."

I think one needs to keep in mind that Korea is a country which has seen enormous change in a very short period. The economic progress has been remarkable, and the country once known as the Hermit Kingdom is opening itself up more and more to the rest of the world. Homosexuality, once completely unthinkable, is now "merely" taboo, and women have gained and are gaining more rights and legal protections with relative frequency over the past decade. I suspect there are more to come.

c) Western food (pasta, pizza, hamburgers, etc.) is prevalent in the large cities- as I may have mentioned in a previous post, there are far more Pizza Huts and Baskin-Robbinses in Busan than in Toronto. Because of this, I would hesitate to classify it as "ethnic food." Although my students don't eat burgers or spaghetti at home, they are very familiar with them. By contrast, the average Canadian ten year-old is unlikely to be able to identify bibimbap or kimbap, two of the most popular Korean dishes. Even beyond the fast food places, American chains such as TGI Friday's and Bennigan's are common here, and have arguably found a niche within Korean culture, rather than simply existing as outlets for when consumers want to eat "exotic" food. Japanese food is quite popular as well. On the other hand, there are a handful of restaurants of other countries or regions. In Busan (a city of over four million people), I know of two Thai restaurants, three Indian restaurants, a couple of Turkish restaurants, and that's about it. I haven't had tzatziki in almost a year now. This saddens me.

Year in Review: Solipsist Edition

I'll be brief.

2007

Six Countries
Four Continents
Degree Earned
Students Taught
People Met
Friends Made
Language Learned
Beer Drank
Rice Eaten
Words Written

Ups Downs Etc.

May your oh-eight be a good one.

And I remember Shanghai

How I wasn't sure just what was safe to eat
The chickens pecked and wandered at the barefoot ankles of the children hawking figurines of workers smiling
What's the Chinese word for cheese?

Thanks to Bishop Allen for the above lyrics. As it happened, I didn't see any live chickens, but I do, nevertheless, remember Shanghai.

In my previous Shanghai post, I mentioned the architecture downtown, which is radically different from that of Beijing, Seoul, and Busan. The guidebooks had made mention of this, however, so I wasn't completely unprepared. What I wasn't ready for was the traffic.

Oh, the traffic. The dizzying, exhilarating, anarchic traffic.

Shanghai!
A city where stoplights are suggestions at best.

Shanghai!
Where flocks of bicycles and scooters roam the streets.

Shanghai!
Where pedestrians defy death with every step off the sidewalk.

Springfield!
Where skateboard-riding youths urge you to eat their shorts.

Er, moving on.

Given my reputation, not as an expert economist, political theorist or even as a PhD. candidate in Sino-industrial history, but as someone who has spent more than eight days in China (four in Shanghai, five in Beijing), I feel particularly qualified to comment on the socio-political situation in contemporary China.

As I understand it, it's like this: China is still "communist" in much the same way that Stephen Harper is a "good prime minister." Between the condo developments and the Ferrari dealership, Shanghai does not show many signs of being a society in which property is shared equally. I think it's probably fair to say that communist China has never had such a society, but now there's isn't even any pretense of such a thing.

Historically speaking (or so we were told in Mrs. Findlay's Grade 13 Mod. West. Civ. class), revolutions have come from the middle class. When you're struggling to get enough food to feed your children, it can be hard to worry about more abstract issues such as voting. The reason Great Britain managed to avoid the equivalent of the French Revolution was that the nobility wasn't as rigidly hierarchical: those of sufficient wealth were able to buy their way into some form of power.

In China, the middle class is growing rapidly (though still dwarfed by those living day to day), but it's uncertain just how much power they have. At what point does one decide the Porsche isn't sufficient compensation for a lack of free speech? Is China's economic growth sustainable environmentally, economically, or socially?

I did enjoy the dumplings.

Interesting...

In attempting to update this blog from Shanghai, I seem to have run afoul of China's notorious internet censorship restrictions. At any rate, I am unable to access blogger in the usual manner. However, I have vague memories of setting up "blog by email" at some point in the past. So if you're reading this, it's because

a) Not only did I set up the blog by email (bbe) feature, I also
b) remembered the email address by which I can can use it.

If you're not reading this, of course, the point is moot, but since hope is the foundation upon which all creation must be built, I will proceed under the assumption that the blogging is proceeding as planned.

So...Shanghai.

First impressions? London mixed with Gotham City by way of Metropolis. The principal tourist area, known as the Bund, is filled with imposing Neo-Classical structures which date back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This gives the city (or parts thereof, I should say) a decidedly Western feel, most reminiscent to me of London. Across the river from the Bund, however, is the Pudong area, the exaggeratedly modern skyscraper district which seems like something out of a cheerful optimistic and future-looking comic (Metropolis). Yesterday, though, was dark and damp and foggy; the buildings loomed through the clouds as though screaming for Commissioner Gordon to shine the Bat Signal on them.

Today? Still cloudy, but no rain as of yet, fortunately. I've returned to the hostel for a mid-afternoon rest after much walking ce matin. The Shanghai Museum was interesting enough in its way, and comforting in the familiar museum-smell that seems to permeate all such institutions. I also took the time to meander through various roads and sidestreets, stopping only to sample an occasional steamed dumpling- which are, I am pleased to say, as exquisitely delicious as I had been led to believe. The Yuyuan Gardens, though not at their most floral in late December, were pleasing in their verdant, labyrinthine way, and I also made acquaintance with a most loquacious young man named Jimmy, who spewed forth a semi-prepared speech in such a manner as to turn Aaron Sorkin green with envy.

"Hello my friend where are you from? Oh, Canada! Canada is a very nice country. It rhymes with banana. I like to meet new and interesting foreigners and make conversation with them. You are very interesting looking with your blue eyes and many mustaches and big nose. You look very funny, don't you think? Anyway I am sixteen years old and I like to learn English but I cannot live at home anymore because my father beats me and my mother very much so I have had to leave home but under Chinese law children are not allowed to work so I have no means of supporting myself and I ask you my friend for some small money to help me feed myself-"

I gave him 5 yuan (roughly $0.60) and wondered, as I always do in these circumstances, whether I should have given more or nothing at all...

But now the city beckons once more. If nothing else, there are postcards to be written and street vendors' wares to be sampled.

Kansas, Toto, and all that

After a while, life begins to consist of routines, patterns and habits. Every day in Korea is no longer to the filled to the brim with glorious epiphanies, touching moments of intercultural understanding, and moments of intense revelation. This is not to say that these do not occur, merely that the quotidian living is, perhaps, less exotic than some might imagine it to be.

Having said that, I do often experience many things which remind me, subtly or overtly, that I am no longer living in the shadow of the CN Tower...

On Saturday, one of the secretaries at our school got married, and all the teachers were invited to the wedding.

As I waited for my coworkers before heading over to the wedding, a group of boys aged 12 or 13 passed by. Despite my wearing sunglasses, they were somehow able to deduce my anglophone nature, and called out to me, "very handsome!" with thumbs raised to underline their approval. On the one hand, it's simply a case of kids seizing the chance to practice their English outside of class, but on the other, it's an instance of young males commenting favourably (and without sarcasm, I assure you), on the appearance of another male. It must be said, of course, that I do look damn good in a tie.

Korea is a very conservative and homophobic country- there are very, very few openly out people here, and paradoxically, it may be for this reason that men are much more affectionate towards one another than they would be in Canada. It's not at all uncommon to see teenage boys sitting on each other's laps in the subway, or holding hands as they walk down the street. Being gay is so unheard of that one is able to engage in such affectionate activities without the fear of being called gay because being gay isn't even an option...but back to the wedding.

In many respects, it was a fairly Western affair: the bride wore a white dress, the groom wore a tux, and it was held in a wedding hall not hugely dissimilar from ones one might find in Mississauga or Don Mills. A major difference, though, was evident before the wedding, as the bride sat in a small room off the lobby and guests were invited in to pose for pictures beside her. During the actual ceremony, the parents of the bride and groom sat in big chairs on either side of the happy couple, who bowed to each set of progenitors (I do love me some big words every so often) at the conclusion of the nuptials.

I had my first Korean lesson today. It's mightily exciting, after four months in the country, to be finally learning the language in a formal, organized manner. It was even more exciting to learn that Korean verbs have only three tenses, and that there is no conjugation as such- the ending is the same for each person- I am, you am, he am, we am, and so on. Furthermore, Korean is largely a contextual language, so "are you going to Seoul" is written the same way as "you are going to Seoul" would be, with the only difference being the inflection at the end of the sentence to indicate a question.

Apart from the obvious advantages of speaking the language of the country in which I live, I think that learning will also be give me a better grasp of the perspective of my students, a from the general sense of learning a new language, but also of the differences between English and Korean specifically. I look forward to learning more.

As you may be aware, the leaders of North and South Korea have just completed another summit- the second since the end of the Korean War. Unfortunately, my grasp of Korean politics is not much stronger than my grasp of the Korean language. It isn't something which my coworkers discuss at all at work, or at least not in language, and I'm perhaps too careful when asking about it, because the relationship between the Koreas does fascinate me so.

As I touched upon at the beginning of this post, Koreans and non-Koreans may be distinguished from one another by purely physical characteristics, at least 99 times out of one hundred. There is a not inconsiderable number of Westerners in Busan, but I would venture to guess that at least 90% of them are English teachers. This is interesting because, a) it means that almost all white people (and the vast majority of English teachers here are white) in Busan are between the ages of 22 and 3o, and b) there isn't the same level of integration or assimilation as would occur under more conventional immigration patterns. It's not at all rare to be stared on the subway or the street, especially by children. This puzzled me for a little while because the number of Westerners, while only a tiny fraction of the overall population, is still substantial enough that I generally see another waeguk or two every time I go downtown.

But while a small town in Northern Ontario, for example, may be (and here we'll pick some numbers out of a hat), 10% Native Canadian, with the rest of the town being Canadian of European descent except for "that one Chinese family," the point is that even in that small town, the Chinese family is a family. There will be Chinese-Canadian kids in that family, and they will go to school with the other kids, and hang out with them, and so on. There may be racism and suspicion and so on, but there is also a level of interaction that is unusual here. The Western teachers and the Korean teachers may and do hang out, but there are no family picnics or family softball games, for the simple fact that there are almost no Western children here. It isn't rare to see white people (as mentioned, almost always between the ages of 22 and 30), but it's almost unheard of to see white children. A few months ago I was at the beach and hanging with a couple from Oregon who had their two small, blonde children with them. The kids fell asleep under a beach umbrella, and more than one Korean came up and asked to take their photo.

We are migrant workers, though more by choice than by necessity. Most teachers here will leave after a year. Some will stay on for a little while, but the vast majority will return within 3 years to Canada, the U.S., or whatever other corner of Anglophonia from whence they came.

And those are my thoughts for the day.

The waeguk is wondering if he's already answered all the possible questions you could have. If no, feel free to ask.

Attention, Comrades

Warning: This entry may be a bit of a ramble.

How to describe the Beijing trip?

The easiest way might be by comparison. Today (Monday), I spent the day teaching English to children.

Last Monday, I climbed the Great Wall of China.

Of course, the comparison isn't fair, since vacation time outranks non-vacation by definition alone.

To evaluate the trip, then, we need to break it down into its base components:
the tour and the city.

Let's start with the tour.

As most people who are reading this probably know, I am not entirely bereft of experience in the group travel industry. Most of that experience, however, has come from the tour guide perspective, rather than that of the customer.

Anyhow, the tour was good. Not great, but very good. The essence of group tours, though, is such that to a large degree very good is the best you can hope for, in the sense that there will always be questions of time allocation and sights to see, etc, so you aim to please as many of the people as often as you can. Had I been on my own, I wouldn't have gone to the tea shop or the jade factory, but then neither would I have been staying in a 5 star hotel out in the suburbs of Beijing. I've always been happy with hostels- they're cheap, centrally located, though they don't have the swimming pools and bowling alleys our hotel did.

It was fun meeting new people and making some friends, but I've decided to prefer make my own through a new place, exploring at my leisure and at my own pace. While it's convenient simply to be told to be back at the bus at a certain time, it also removes a considerable of the chunk of the free-spirited wanderer mythos with which I strive to imbue myself at all times.

Beijing, then. The Forbidden City (home of the Chinese Royal Family for countless years) reminded me a lot of Versailles simply because of the sheer size and arrogance of the operation. "L'état, c'est moi," indeed. The thing that has often amazed me about monarchies is not so much the fact that people throughout history have proclaimed themselves definely superior to the masses, but that the masses have acquiesced and agreed with them. And while I realize that a large part of this was determined by which hand was holding the sword, let's face it- there was (generally) only one Emperor at a time, but he (and on occasion, she) controlled a hell of a lot of sword-holders.

But yeah. Setting aside the political thoughts (I've always maintained that standing in front of Versailles is the easiest way to understand the reasons for the French Revolution), the Forbidden City is fascinating because of its size...and here I was going to offer some thoughts of dubious originality and interest, but I've just come to the decision that even if it is possible to eliminate politics and social philosophy from the picture, to do so would be absurd and/or irresponsible. The entire palace complex (all 720,000 square metres) was constructed to hold the source of absolute power, and if you fail to acknowledge that when beholding, you are missing out on human history at its most basic.

The Great Wall of China can be viewed through much the same lens, but offers more panoramic and astoundingly scenic photos. Lots of stairs, and a definite highlight of the trip. For me, at least, the Wall was symbolic of an empire with all the positive and negative connotations therein, while I found the Forbidden City to offer more food for thought on human hierarchy and our willingness to subjugate ourselves to others, or have them do so to us. But what do I know.

The Great Wall of China goes on forever, if not in the literal sense then in the figurative. We didn't climb it for very long, but it was enough to get the slightest glimpse of the immense time and effort that went into its building.

From a tourist point of view, the Great Wall and the Forbidden City are the two structures that will remain at the forefront of my memories, but a conversation I had on the last night definitely bears mentioning.

A few of us tourists were making our way to the hotel bar when we noticed our tour guide at the front desk, and so we invited her to have a beer with us. It wasn't a particularly long discussion, but it meandered well, as all great discussions do. We were asking her for her thoughts on the present and the future of China, and in a nutshell this is what she said:

"when you look at China, you see a lot of problems. We don't have free speech, and people are thrown into jail for criticizing the government. But for us, we see that this is the best it's been in a thousand years."

It's an interesting way of looking at the situation. Not to look at it history in terms of years or decades or even centuries, but millennia. It's a slow, gradual, process. That day we had taken a rickshaw tour of a hutong, a traditional Beijing neighbourhood, and we had met a septuagenarian who lived there. I asked what was the greatest change she had seen since she was a child, and she replied that now food is plentiful and affordable.

Is this Mao's doing? Would China have better evolved under free-market capitalism? I have no idea.

I've picked up a biography of Mao, though, and hopefully that will give me some clues.

I'll try to come back to this and add more thoughts and commments over the next couple of days, so if you come back to reread this don't be surprised if it's been changed in some way.

Chuseok is all around us

The kids are busy writing their lists for the Chuseok Bunny, and getting ready to go from house to house collecting teeth to stick under the pillow, while the parents stay home assembling the Chuseok pole in preparation for the Airing of Grievances.

In truth, I still don't know exactly what Chuseok entails. It is, essentially, the Korean Thanksgiving, and a time when most Koreans will return to the home of their parents or grandparents, pay homage to their ancestors, and eat a lot- including Songpyeon, a traditional Korean rice cake. Beyond that, though, it's all a big mystery.

It's just a couple of weeks away now, and the biggest indicator of an impending holiday is found, of course, in the supermarkets. There are a great number of gift baskets for sale, each one offering a selection from a given grocery aisle: fruit, cosmetics, spam.

Soon we'll start doing Chuseok activities with the students, and I'm curious to discover the local equivalent of Santa napkin rings or Turkey placemats. Gift baskets aside, what I've seen of pre-Chuseok Korea makes it seem a lot more low-key than Christmas or even Thanksgiving, but it may also simply be less commercial, though no less intense. I am given to understand that virtually everyone goes home for the week, and there are very few exceptions.

As for me, I'll be in Beijing. Assa!

Hills and Apartments

Every so often, I'll set out from the Jeffpad and meander through the streets of my neighbourhood. It's at these times that I am most aware of the fact that I am in a very different place.

Busan's main streets are very large, wide thoroughfares. It's rare that one can cross the street directly; most often pedestrians either take bridges over the road or tunnels underneath it. It's not uncommon to have two levels of road on the main strip, with a raised highway running more or less on top of a street. Usually I'll walk along one of these for a little bit, but I prefer to move off the main drags and meander through the side streets, which are fascinating. They're small, narrow, and curvy, frequently without sidewalks, and are almost invariably sloping up or down.

I'm reminded a little bit of the Flintstones travel parts, wherein the scenery loops as they drive along, because there seems to be a specific number of types of business establishments in the residential areas of Busan. These are as follows:

-the corner store: purveyors of Fanta, snack food, and the like, these can be quite tiny (the size of a walk-in closet) to relatively spacious (the size of a large bachelor apartment)

-the optician: apparently, there is a very high demand for glasses and glasses-related paraphernalia in Busan

-the bakery: these often have French names and serve Eurasian fused baked goods. Fresh bread (but not, sadly, baguettes) vie for space with red bean donuts, cakes, and buns.

-the pizza place: In addition to the not infrequent Dominos and Pizza Huts, most neighbourhoods have a local pizzeria or three as well. These are generally given names similar to ones which might be found in North America: Pizza Time, Mr. Pizza, and Royal Pizza are all within a short walk of my apartment

-the Korean restaurant: barbecue-, soup-, or bibimbap-oriented, Busan has many, many, many eateries. As I may have mentioned in previous posts, the cost of food in restaurants is quite cheap (a solid meal can be had for $3), while the supermarkets are relatively expensive.

On a given street, then, the order is often something like this:

variety store, barbecue restaurant, optician, barber, variety store, bibimbap restaurant, pizza place, bakery, barbecue restaurant, optician.

All of this, of course, is set against a backdrop of apartment buildings, which are themselves framed by the green mountains of Busan. It sounds scenic, and it in its own peculiar way I suppose it is... the city has a sort of old- modern feeling to it. Think of The Fifth Element. It looks like the City of the Future, but twenty or thirty years later. I'll need to put up some photos to do this description justice. For now you'll have to trust me.

mud-luscious and puddle wonderful, and a temple too

Thanks to e.e. cummings for part A of the title. Sadly, though, Mud Festival didn't quite live up to its billing. I had been led to expect a sea of mud stretching as far as the eye could see, with myriad opportunities to frolic and bathe. Instead, we found a nice enough beachtown, two little sections of which had been converted into mud-slides and mudwading pools, around of each of which was a line of people. Boryeong, the town in question, has a rather nice sand beach, but the region is well-known for the ostensible curative properties of the local mud, hence the impetus for the festival, and also my mild surprise at the relative lack of mud. The distribution of free bars of mud soap was a nice touch, though.

Upon rereading the above, I realize that you should be forgiven for inferring there was almost no mud at all, but that wasn't exactly the case. The mud was there, but only in such quantities that an effort had to be made in order to be muddy- the advertising for the festival gives the impression that great effort is needed in order to stay clean, and this is most definitely not true. Still, a valuable lesson was learned about forming expectations based on advertising, so not all is lost.

Beyond the mud was an excuse for thousands of people, waeguk-in and Koreans alike, to pass a weekend on a beach. As such, it was successful, though I was somewhat discomfited to find myself in what could, in many regards, have passed for a frosh week celebration at Wasaga or the like. I was also saddened that it took me most of the weekend to find a store selling frisbees- these generators of awesomeness do not have nearly the same ubiquity in Korea as they do back home. I'm further amused by the fact that I've just paired a comment on the surfeit of North Americans with one on the scarcity of North American beach toys, but so be it.


Today being Constitution Day, our pedagogical efforts were unneeded, so a colleague and I decided to explore Beomeosa, acclaimed by Wikipedia as "one of the country's leading urban temples."

After a short subway ride and an even shorter cab ride, we found ourselves high up a mountain and in a completely different world. One of the characteristics of Busan of which I'm less fond is the lack of green space, but the temple is essentially in the middle of the forest, and absolutely stunning to boot. It was originally constructed in the 7th Century, but has been destroyed and rebuilt a number of times since then.

The term temple is a bit of a misnomer, at least insofar as I have generally understood the term. Like the other Buddhist temples I've seen, Beomeosa isn't one single building, but is instead a collection of shrines, pagodas, statuary, and the like. For this reason, it makes an excellent place to wander around in slack-jawed awe, always a good state to be in, especially in a place of religion. It also makes one (meaning me) more conscious of the connection between people and the rest of nature. As impressive as, say, Notre-Dame de Paris is, when one enters into it one is definitely stepping into a human creation and leaving the rest behind. Beomeosa, while still obviously and inarguably a construct of humanity, is a part of its natural surroundings in a completely different way. The trees, the water, and the bamboo all form (to these Western eyes, at least) a part of the experience. That's a good thing.

Seoul Train

Firstly, let me apologize for the obviousness of the titular pun. Unsubtle or not however, it is appropriate, given that I paid a visit to Korea's capital city over the weekend.

The city that jumps to mind most quickly, interestingly, is Athens. Seoul is much bigger than Athens, obviously, and has the whole Modern Asian Metropolis (MAM) thing going on, but what the two of them do have in common is the pieces of antiquity scattered in a seemingly random pattern throughout the city. Seoul has five (five!) palaces and various other shrines, pagodas, and other bits of history around every other corner.

There's something almost intoxicating about being let loose in a large and unfamiliar city. Every step teases with the promises of wonders as yet unseen. There's a rush of realizing you're going through what is, for you, uncharted territory. Even the mundane holds a special allure. You're not just riding the subway, you're riding the subway in Seoul. Awesome. I love new places. When that new place happens to be the second-largest city in the world? Double-awesome.

I don't think I'd quite realized it until arriving there, but Seoul has long held a special place in my...not heart, as such, but at least my consciousness. My memory of global events from the 1980s is sketchy at best. The first News item I remember is the Challenger explosion in '85. Sitting in the waiting room table at the dentist's office was a magazine (Time, I'd guess, but I really have no idea) with the astronauts on the cover. So that's the first thing I remember from outside my immediate sphere of reference. I also remember, albeit vaguely, the ascension of G.H. Bush to the U.S. Throne, and the 1988 Olympics. The Winter Games in Calgary were a big deal, obviously, taking as place as they did just to the west of Canada, but it's the Summer Games that stick out. You can attribute this to the fact I was eight months older by then (7 and a half years old), but I think it has more to do with the fact that a sprinter by the name of Ben Johnson happened to be stripped of his gold medal for steroid use. Remember that?

It's not to say that I only remember the Seoul Games because of our man on the track, but I think that what Johnson did do was give me a reference point for a city that would likely not have featured very prominently in my mind at all.

I just hope he got to see some of the sights.

The Streets of Pusandelphia

I have a theory, which is still being refined, but the essence of it is as follows: anything one needs in Pusan can be bought from a street vendor. As I've been here for less than a week, I can't yet state it conclusively, but a short list of items available for purchase on the street would include:

-books
-vegetables
-sandals
-kitchen utensils
-puppies
-umbrellas
-fish, live
-fish, dead
-clothes
-songbirds
-CDs
-octopi, dead
-octopi, live

Rest assured I will remain vigilant and keep you, my faithful readers, apprised of any major additions to the above. Any city in which one can purchase both octopi and puppies without having to set foot in a store is a city worthy of the name.

안 녕 히 치 서ㅣ요!

The First 48

First impressions of Pusan? Big, noisy, a little smelly, but more or less what I expected. If anything, that's what has surprised me most of all so far- the lack of any major surprises.

When it comes to minor surprises, however, there have been several. When using a shower in a Korean love motel, always check to see where the drain is. If you find that it's outside of the shower stall, you're better off not using a shower mat, as it will become submerged in no short time.

If you want to be able to watch episodes of last year's American Idol, turn to Korean TV. The same applies for Home Alone (in June, at that!), Star Wars, Jean-Claude Van Damme movies, and various other seemingly random selections of American cinematography. All in English, with Korean subtitles.

Stay tuned for further updates...right now, my stomach is growling to the point I suspect an aide is running straight to Kim Jong-Il to warn him of strange sensor readings.


안 녕 히 치 서ㅣ요!